Dear MF Diary

I have so many things to tell you! What a weekend. The weekend started with a stupid amount of cooking. My companion made this beautiful cake for no reason, for which I award him the prize of “Best Cake with My Name on It for No Reason, 2005.”

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On Friday, I conducted an experiment in which I fused together my companion and my sister to form one terrible T. Rex-like beast.

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I dub thee Companster.

Alas, the T. Rex-like beast went wild and broke up another of my discoveries, a Barbie King, which I had discovered slithering into a Seattle sewer last year and was clever enough to capture and shove into a jar. Barbie Kings are similar to Rat Kings, but they accessorize better, and leave a pink sparkly trail of effluvium, rather than a trail of rabies.

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I must pour out a Cosmopolitan for my dead Barbie King homies.

Then we force-fed the baby arugula to keep her happy during dinner on Saturday night.

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Moo.

Startlingly, I also discovered that, for good or ill, Franny is developing a bizarre sense of humor. I am relieved about this, because her father doesn’t really exhibit any sense of humor. I used to gibber around the house all the time, doing the funky chicken, making puns, and trying to engage in ordinary wordplay with the monkey robot I was stuck with. Reaction? None. I might as well have been a ghost.

Yesterday we were sitting on my bed and were joking about something while playing with the baby and Franny looked thoughtful for a moment.

“You’re really funny. Dad isn’t that funny,” she said.

“Is your dad serious?” I said.

“Yeah.”

I think he’s trying to concentrate on making sure all of his circuits are lubed, in my humble, unassuming opinion.

Later yesterday we were getting out of the car when Franny suddenly said, in front of my sister, “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Yeah,” I said, amused at the adult-like expressions that have been coming out of her mouth this weekend, such as “can I ask you a favor?” and “while you’re at it….”

“Can I pee on your head?” Franny finished.

“What?” my sister said. “WHAT?” I could only laugh.

“I’m just going with it,” I said.

Finally, Frannie and I played Lady Beauter Shop last night to a marvelous result. Then, we met Manuel for dinner at Super Bowl. Delicious!

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Sassier!

11 thoughts on “Dear MF Diary

  1. I was intrigued at your about asshole page.
    I was in a similar state.
    My ex wife threatened to bring all my websites into court to prove I was an unfit father.
    I am glad I didnt lose the connections that I made and have been making over the years.
    You and your family look very happy, I wish you the best and hope to come back an read some of your earlier darker writings.
    Peace
    ~JT

  2. Frannie is fantabulously beautiful with blue hair. Unfortunately after age 30, blue hair isn’t too cute anymore. I thought the baby was eating spinach, but then again I wouldn’t know what it looked like. You have a very happy-looking family. Congrats…

  3. “Unfortunately after age 30, blue hair isn’t too cute anymore.”

    Oh, I know it. I am approaching 30, and I have vowed to give up a few things then–dopey pigtails, certain types of jewelry. Le sigh.

  4. Well, I’m glad it’s only BLUE hair that’s not ok after 30, ’cause I turn 30 in a few weeks, but I’m NOT giving up the pink….

  5. My kid is suddennly busting out with the sayings as well. One of my favorites is “Speaking of (whatever we’re talking about…” We also had a little panic because her hair was practically fushia. You probably don’t remember but I already had the whole School uniform debacle. She’s gorgeous!

  6. Well, SJ and et al, there are other things to give up after thirty…
    sex in public places, snarling at other adults, cute cars (yes, minivans are the thing for 30+ers), and screenprinted too-tight t-shirts. Enjoy your youth while you can. I do wish I could be a tealhead. sigh…

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