friday night sex mitzvah

yay hell!

2006-02-01T22:01:00.000-06:00

According to this quiz, supplied by my lovely and talented intern Erica, both Beth and I will be hanging out after death in Limbo, the first level of hell, with a bunch of philosophers and possibly that bad limbo song they always play at parties and stuff.

Also of note, while I also scored high in lustfulness (Level 2) and being heretical (Level 6), Beth's other high score was in violence (Level 7) . . . despite only answering one of the violence questions "yes" or "true". Or so she claims. . . . (And, okay, she also got a high score in "repenting believers," but that's so less cool.)

because we like beer! (especially if it's fruity!)

2006-01-14T16:08:00.000-06:00

Beer Trouble Shooting Guide

(leah and bethy officially apologize for the wonky html action. we tried to fix it and can't)

SYMPTOM	CAUSE	ACTION
Feet cold and wet.	Glass being held at incorrect angle.	Rotate glass so that open end points toward ceiling.
Feet warm and wet.	Improper bladder control.	Stand next to nearest dog, complain about house training.
Beer unusually pale and tasteless.	Glass empty.	Get someone to buy you another beer.
Opposite wall covered with fluorescent lights.	You have fallen over over backwards.	Have yourself leashed to the bar.
Mouth contains cigarette butts.	You have fallen over forwards.	See above.
Beer tasteless, front of you shirt is wet.	Mouth not open or glass applied to wrong part of face.	Retire to restroom, practice in mirror.
Floor blurred.	Your looking through bottom of empty glass.	Get someone to buy you another beer.
Floor moving.	You are being carried out.	Find out if you are being taken to another.
Room seems unusually dark.	Bar has closed.	Confirm home address with bartender.
Taxi suddenly takes on colorful aspect and textures.	Beer consumption has exceeded personal limitations.	Cover mouth.
Everyone looks up to you and smiles.	You are dancing on the table.	Fall on somebody crushing-looking.
Beer is crystal clear.	It's water, somebody is trying to sober you up.	Punch him.
Hands hurt, nose hurts, mind unusually clear.	You have been in a fight.	Apologize to everyone you see, just in case it was with them.
Don't recognize anyone, don't recognize the room you're in.	You've wandered into the wrong party.	See if they have free beer.
Your singing sounds distorted.	The beer is too weak.	Have more beer until your voice improves.
Don't remember the words to the song.	Beer is just right.	Play air guitar.

why one should beware speaking on behalf of one's pets

2006-01-07T10:43:00.000-06:00

Beth (speaking for the kitten): 'Oh naked babyman, your legs are always open to me!'

magnetic poetry

2005-12-01T22:16:00.000-06:00

Given the frequency with which we've had to drag Kitten down off the top of the fridge lately, we thought it was wise to go ahead and document the magnetic poetry that has accumulated over the last year.

The more graphic stuff, unfortunately, was sacrificed for the sake of decency before Jesse's wedding shower. Here are the highlights of what's left, with authoring noted via initials, if known (LW=Leah; BK=Beth; TH="Travis"; JB=John, Fortress visitor):

thick juggernaut
nude to my tongue
thine taut paragon of protuberance
doth manipulate my mound of beauty (LW, BK)

produce diamonds as though places suck

swim with luscious breast for him (TH)

languid love
like a ship
come in (LW)

lust is an ersatz breast
brazen priapism
sizzle purple for eternity (JB)

hell has languid hair

she floods wet from bare meat

chain you to the watching moon (LW)

a delirious mother
did two men in a
club by the sea
with a tiny apparatus

And the very sage advice:

never please when driving

Purity Test Update

2005-11-24T19:03:00.000-06:00

Despite our best efforts in the "arena of impurities" (as Bethany has deemed it), us full-time inhabitants of the Fotress have somehow, in the last few months, become more pure.

Bethany: 69%
Leah: 66%
(Compare to August 29th.)

On the upside, at least I am still the dirtier whore.

Sloganpalooza

2005-11-15T21:12:00.000-06:00

Men Can't Help Acting on Bethany

It's How Leah Is Done

---

Strangely dirty slogans courtesy of: http://www.thesurrealist.co.uk/slogan.cgi

FIRE!!!!

2005-11-15T20:07:00.000-06:00

heh. fire! much like butthead.

so, yes. we lit a fire! we are the almighty fire lighters! we require no foreknowledge of firelighting practices or techniques. we know of the starter logs and the tiny tiny flamethrowers! and we cause only minimal smoke damage with our lack of flue-opening. hereby, know all that we are as gods of firestarting!

travis, you should consider extra insurance.

We are as gods!

2005-10-26T21:22:00.000-05:00

so, um, monday night, leah and i declared ourselves gods, and decreed various godhoods upon/amongst ourselves. so there. you can't have any. pblpbl.

leah: god of...
british things
cat sick
grammar
disappointments
non-god logic
purple
hair with criminal intent
irrationality
taking out the trash (only non-stinky - see below)

bethy: god of...
good sex
bad sex
changing the cat box
loading the dishwasher
spelling
shoes!
tea
god-logic

anya:god of...
pretty
thwopping

kitten: god of...
mischief
knocking shit over

travis: god of...
stinky things

chicago...cont'd

2005-10-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

things we have learned in the last 4 days:

1. there's a HUGE difference in 311 & 3111
2. everyone gets skinnier when they graduate college
3. bus stops are more confusing than train stations
4. even serenity fans are less openly friendly in the north than they are in the south
5. oranges & eggplants are the best foods ever
6. sequins are almost as good as diamonds

so, re: issue #1. we rock. we've frickin' mastered the chicago transit authority website and have the process of getting places down. we find an address, pop it in, and get wherever we're going like "that". until yesterday. yesterday (saturday), it all fell apart. we got on the train going the wrong directions, got off, turned around, got back on, and went past our stop. then, in our attempt to go to dinner, the street deadended where it should have kept going. so, we wandered around downtown chicago in an almost vain attempt to find the restaurant. we did find it eventually, but there was much going out of the way to get there. it involved stairs. up and down a bunch of stairs. dallas doesn't have stairs in its streets. then, the piece de resistance (see the numbers referenced in #1). we found the bus fairly easily, though it came about 10 minutes later than we would have liked. took it to the proper intersection, and walked south, like the instructions said to do. we were in the sketchiest part of chicago we'd seen thus far, all decked out in our "cute girls going out" clothing, and all of a sudden, the numbers went from 319 to 275. so, we call jill who informs us that we're about 30 blocks too far south. YAY! watch the 2 girls in heels walk/run north for about 6 blocks in the hopes of catching a non-existent cab. we finally caught a bus that took us to the right part of town and we had seats saved for us, so everything was fine. this, however, did not prevent us from walking manymany blocks to find food/coffee afterwards. then, the bus we tried to take home only got us about halfway there. so, we ended up walking, again, about halfway across chicago, until we finally saw the promised land of 2850 N Sheridan Road. we're tired. yay for pretty flats with sequins.

chicago! (day one)

2005-09-29T17:02:00.000-05:00

So far, what our trip to Chicago has taught us is that we are very, very smart. I managed to book my flight for TOMORROW instead of today (apparently they frown upon you showing up more than 24 hours early and trying to fly standby; what's up with that? my bank account, of course, being what's down with that, and not in the good way), Beth got stuck in the turnstile getting off the El . . . . It hasn't been our Best Day Ever.

However, you have to balance against that the fact that: a) we're in CHICAGO; b) it's like sixty degrees here; and c) we aren't at work.

Our thrilling plans for this evening, after nearly a full day o' travel, are dinner at a Mediteranian place, the season premiere of Alias (hurrah! though we will miss partner-in-Alias-watching Kristen), and sleeping. We are very, very tired.

Tomorrow: dinner and Serenity premiere with the Chicago browncoats, while wearing our extremely spiffy Jayne hats, lovingly knitted by Melissa.

blast from our whorish pasts

2005-09-02T17:27:00.000-05:00

we had a request to re-post this most amusing anecdote from the earliest stage of our relationship. have fun. we did. ^_~

originally posted 2/29/04:

well, the intention was to go to northpark with leah, hit clinique for bonus time, and do a little innocent window shopping in the pretty mall (it really is, and there aren't a lot of malls that can say the same). after browsing our way through several very girly stores, we decided to have the silly fun in victoria's secret. fun was had. we discovered electric bright pj's that don't have to match, underwear that's really more under-why? and lots of things with cherries on them (i swear, from a distance, they just look like pretty flowers). we were happily making our way to the front of the store to leave as a manager type asked us if we were doing all right and leah made the mistake of saying, "oh yes! everyone has been very helpful." this, of course, prompted the woman to say, "well i assume, then, that you've had a free bra-fitting". well, apparently neither one of us had our get out quick radar going, because we said, "well, no." appalled she was! appalled i say! she fitted us very quickly and pronounced us both 2 cup sizes larger than we would have claimed for ourselves. it was our turn to be appalled. with this perplexing declaration hanging above our heads, how could we not go into the fitting rooms (which have some strangely fancy name there now) and have "the most entertaining 30 minutes, maybe even an hour, of your lives"? in we went, one room to the both of us, in order to guarantee the bonding. the girl came in with boxes full of bras, all sized to make us blush at the thought of so much boob on one person. leah, surprisingly, fit quite nicely into her gargantuan bras. i was left skeptical when there seemed to still be room for another boob in there. the girl, who i understand is very well trained to do this, explained that with mine being set fairly far apart, it was likely the right size, just the wrong style. she showed me several more which i proceeded to wear on my head (just to demonstrate the unneccesary largeness of them) and then wear on my chest. after going through 3 or 4 that all had the same strange extra-ness to them, we finally convinced a second girl to go get a smaller size. tada! it fit. my boobs are weird. i could have told them this, but i've learned that it's better to let people learn things by experience. the first girl was astounded and offered to bow down to me. (no really, she did!) i found that the "very sexy" bra did indeed make me look very sexy. but, as i had just spent a good chunk of money at the clinique, i did not buy it. leah, however, came away with a very nice, if perplexingly large, addition to her collection. (no worries leah. your boobs still look proportionate. it's just the bra away from your boobs that looks so huge).

i hope we didn't rush this part of our relationship.

Purity Test Scores

2005-08-29T21:23:00.000-05:00

Bethany: 66%
Leah: 65%

Proving once and for all that I am, in fact, the dirtier whore.

---

Can you beat me? Probably so. Try it with the original, long-ass 500 question version here. And then come tell us what you got, because we like the comments. They make Bethy all giddy. :)

why doug stays on the suck list

2005-08-28T09:44:00.000-05:00

'cause, dude, you just can't recover from this...

so, last night, leah and i are at this restaurant (oh, and, by the way, we've moved to this really killer house on the m-streets. just happened. sorry about the no heads up.) and we RANDOMLY run into doug and some chick whose name i never caught. i don't know, she had an attitude and WAY too much curly blonde hair. anyways, we talked for a bit, but leah & i were headed out. so, they kind of followed us out to the front of the restaurant and doug announces that they're going to take all of our credit cards! wtf?! so, i gave doug a "look" and continued to walk, leah following suit. as soon as we're out the door of the place, though, the chick pulls out one of those tiny guns and holds it up to leah's head! of course, no one notices because of how it's too fucking busy and it's a tiny fit in your purse gun. doug didn't even look at her funny. just said, "sorry guys." so, we set down our purses on an outside table and rifle through for the credit cards. he was "nice" enough to let us do that, rather than just taking the whole purse. apparently, that's what they do normally, but he was having just a little guilt over the whole issue.

anyways, being that we now live just a few blocks away from the restaurant, we walked back home and doug and the chick just invite themselves to come along and hang out! W! T! F! i was too fucking pissed to talk at this point, but leah was trying to make like it was all normal and shit. so, we walk home and they follow us upstairs and we all sit around talking like nothing's fucking happening! after, i don't know, about 15 minutes of this, i lost it. i stood up and jumped on top of dear old doug on the couch and just started whaling on his face. my exact words were something like, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE FUCKING DOING THIS, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!! YOU 2 (pointing at leah) HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER, LIKE, FOREVER AND YOU'RE ONE OF HER BEST FRIENDS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?!" and i punctuated about every other word with my fist. doug and leah managed to restrain me long enough to point out that i was going to make this bizarre brain thing happen if i kept hitting the same place, so i stopped. i was still pretty worked up, so i don't have the details about the brain thing, but they seemed pretty insistent. whatever.

at this point, genius man and his bitch of a girlfriend (?) decided it might be a good time to take their leave of us. brilliant huh? we walked them downstairs (didn't want them stealing any more shit, did we?) and as they're walking out the door, i had a brain wave! "hey fucker! you know what i just thought of? every single person you know reads your blog and a lot of them know about ours! i'm gonna post this and everyone in your life is going to know about this fucking situation! ha!" at which point, he had the good sense to look at least a little perturbed before he turned around and walked off.

they, having parked just behind the afore mentioned restaurant, and me having followed them down the street with me berating, and leah having followed along behind still trying to pretend it's all normal, we suddenly found ourselves standing where they'd left the car. but guess what! someone had stolen it! HA!!!! and i said pretty much that. "HA!!!!" i was pretty thrilled, until bitch girl just let herself into someone else's car and hotwired it! doug the spinally-challenged just looked at my incredulity with a "what're you gonna do?" kind of face and got in. then they offerred us a ride back! fuck a whole lot of that shit. we let them drive off and went home to cancel all the cards the fuckers stole. the rest of the evening is pretty much a blur since i woke up at that point.

doug is so not getting a christmas present this year.

we were touched by His noodly appendage!

2005-08-09T22:30:00.000-05:00

praise 'sketti from whom all meatballs flow!
praise 'sketti all creatures here below!
praise 'sketti above ye midgety hosts!
praise 'sketti, sauce, and holy ghost!
yay balls!

we have chosen a religion. never let it be said that we are unfaithful to our food.

we're guest blogging

2005-07-09T00:12:00.000-05:00

go check it out.

security guards and poop...

2005-07-05T22:26:00.000-05:00

from tonight...

l: it's worse than firefly!
b: and we don't get a movie!
pause
b: i'm so sad my hair is brown.
l: i have the head of your cat.
b: it's like we're in a dadaist play
l: the peacocks! the peacocks!
b: baah! baah!

no really. that's verbatim.

then there was yesterday, when we tried to watch fireworks but got kicked off of the building in highland park village. but we didn't put poop in anybody's drawers. so, we managed to catch about half of the highland park fireworks show...

...the top half. stupid buildings.

david made a meme (and we love buffy)

2005-06-10T22:28:00.000-05:00

so, maybe it's not a meme in the official sense. but most of you (who include me) just consider a meme to be a quiz posted on a blog. so, meme away we will. the questions come from "inside the actors studio", but the answers come from depths you have yet to delve.

key: question: my answer; leah's answer

What is your favorite word? i don't know. i kind of like "conspire".; "splish"
What is your least favorite word? "icthyologist". it's too frickin' hard to say.; "poop".
What turns you on? polo in the blue bottle and good mess-withable hair; i'm between turn ons at the moment. that's exactly what i want you to type. (bk: i tried to get more out of her. really)
What turns you off? trying too hard; lack of decency, tendency to criticize.
What sound or noise do you love? cat purrs, my cell phone ring, bnl; rain, but only the real kind. none of that fake shit.
What sound or noise do you hate? okay, i'm not horrible, but this is honest. all of the far asian languages except japanese; telephone ring
What is your favorite curse word? fuck has become so ubiquitous, but i still like it.; fuck (is that unoriginal?)
What profession, other than your own, would you like to attempt? personal shopper; when i was 3, i wanted to clean the oil off of ducks (bk: we assume she meant after oil spills and such)
What profession would you absolutely not want to do? mine. um. or prison guard. especially on death row.; teacher.
If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? welcome; hi. sorry about the mess down there on earth. our reception is pretty lousy down there.

take from this what you will. um. are you british? did you almost die once? cause i want to quote a brilliant man.

"cup of tea. cup of tea. almost got shagged. cup of tea."

leah? anything? she feels this...(ooh! i know this one!)

"blah blah bliddy blah, i'm so stuffy, give me a scone."

um, we're having a difference of opinion here. there was some reference to this being better than sex. she claims she didn't mean it. whatever. i think there's a vortex around condo 18, i.e. the fortress. we should have known better with that name. my coaster is doing a lot of shit. so, now we sign off. g'night.

we may be tough, but we're on your side

2005-05-16T20:36:00.000-05:00

the primarily plaid duo. be afraid...at least a little afraid.

matzah-tov!

2005-04-26T22:50:00.000-05:00

um, yah, i don't have a good passover narrative at the moment. there were plagues, and a pharoah, and ben-hur was moses. but then there's wine that tastes like grape juice and einstein argued with frederick douglas...can you tell i'm a bit lost on this?

anyways, my main point was to mention how matzah balls look a little like aliens, but with tasty all-spice centers. and the wine tastes like grape juice. elijah's not as big of a lush as i thought he was.

*this post has not been approved by leah*

Headline news

2005-04-15T22:07:00.000-05:00

Deet deet-deet-deet deet deet deet, deet deet-deet-deet deet deet deet . . .

This just in: Doug is of the suck.

In other news, Bethy is dead.

On the upside, she will be available for posthumous interviews at an undisclosed later date. After the rejuvenating power of death works its magic.

And the monkey is prettttttttty.

March Holidays Part Deux: The Easter Story (with guest appearances by Eddie Izzard)

2005-03-27T00:41:00.000-06:00

We thought it was only fair that since Beth got to tell the Purim story, I should be the one to give a summary of the Easter story, which is apparently a lot longer, but has names that are way easier to spell. Mostly. Damn Romans. So here goes:

Easter: The Original Zombie Story

Once upon a time there was a guy they called Jesus who was the king of Jews and the messiah and after his bar mitzvah he disappeared for, like, 17 years, and came back able to walk on water. A brief disciple-gathering period commenced, after which he announced it was time to go to Jeruselem. (Beth had to tell me how to spell that. I'm a bad Jew.) Coincidentally, it was time for Passover-- and since at the end of every Passover seder we're all like "Next year in Jeruselem!" it seems fitting. (Though maybe that's only since we got kicked out last, and went all diasporic. I don't know. I'm losing my Jew points again. The hamantaschen are all for naught.)

So they get there and Jesus is like, I need a donkey. And the disciples are like, You need a what? And he's like, Donkey. If you go to the gate, there'll be a guy with a donkey. I need him. Go, shoo. (Cause what else are disciples for if not to fetch your donkey, right?) So they go, and there's the donkey, and they're a little dazed, but they get the donkey and bring him back and Jesus rides into Jeruselem on the donkey . . . where there are all these very excited Jews gathered with palm fronds (because it was Palm Sunday), all like, Yeah! Messiah! Yeah! (Jesus, as it turns out, had an excellent PR firm.) And they're all, You've come to free us, right? There's gonna be fighting? And we're gonna be free? And Jesus, all sidesaddle on his donkey, is like, No no, I'm here to free your hearts. And the Jews are like, Qua? (Us Jews are a little literal. See my future post on my livejournal.)

But they're digging it, until he goes into the temple and sees the moneychangers and the tabledancers, and has a holy fit (literally, presumably), despite Judas' discrete elbowing of him in his side.

Meanwhile it's Passover, and so they're all hanging around having seder and doing big arms, and Jesus starts going on about the matzoh (and you know it was matzoh, cause nobody has leavened bread at Passover, I mean, really) being his body (Jesus' body, it turns out, is kinda flat and white and tasteless), and says somebody's gonna betray him, and tells Peter he's going to deny him three times. And Peter's like, Nuh-uh. And Jesus is like, And that one doesn't count.

So then Judas excuses himself to go to the "bathroom" (probably the four glasses of wine) and Jesus heads out to the garden to pray with Peter and some other disciple-guy, cause of how he's going to die, and Judas betrays him, and Jesus gets taken, and Peter and the other guy run away, and Peter plays dumb a couple of times (three, if you must know), and Jesus is brought before the High Priest, whose name rivals "Ahashuaras," who was Jewish and pissy about the whole fit-in-the-temple thing-- as apparently a lot of the Jews around there had gotten since the whole palm frond incident-- and tried to get him to confirm or deny the whole "son of God"/messiah thing, but he hadn't seen any Eddie Izzard tapes yet (or maybe he had-- there's that whole omniscient thing to contend with) and so he refused. So the High Priest passed him over to Harod, who made his money in the casino industry, who isn't sure what to do with the guy either, and he hands him over to Pontius Pilate, who literally washes his hands of the whole thing (with a silver bowl-- which is some SERIOUS handwashing), and passes him back over to the Jews, who demand they kill him (cause who doesn't like a good crucifixion?).

Next there's the whole carrying-the-cross, crown-of-thorns thing that goes on, and then the actual crucifixion--

(Leah types and erases "blah bla--," observing, "That's a little irreverent."

Beth comments: "Yeah, we don't 'blah blah blah' the crucifixion.")

--and then the whole tomb and big stone thing, and then a couple days later Jesus rises from the dead with a major brain-craving, and gives new meaning to the whole "living will" concept by bequeathing the church to Peter (who is too dazed by the whole Jesus not being dead thing, one would assume, to go "Nuh uh"), and then invents chocolate, and rises physically up into heaven, much like Methuselah, except not from the middle of a deserted vinyard.

And several thousand years later, for some reason, everybody's still talking about it.

Mostly, I figure we should just be glad we aren't eating crucifixion cookies.

Thank you, and good night!

purim! prunes! yay!

2005-03-24T23:24:00.000-06:00

um, so, it's purim. or tomorrow is? leah says from sundown tonight (so, like, 4 hours ago or so) to sundown tomorrow is. and there are cookies! yay cookies! now, this is the important part. (listen as the unjew tells the story).

there was this king who didn't like his wife, so he got a new one, but she was jewish, but he didn't know that because her uncle said not to tell him. and then this guy who didn't like the jews, but talked to the king a lot, said, "let's kill all the jews!" and the king said, "yah! dead jews!". and so the wife is all, "um, i'm kinda a jew. so, kill me too." and the king said, "well, that sucks. i'd rather kill this weird guy who wanted to kill all the jews." and then there was a three-cornered hat and then we had cookies. haman-taschen. those are the cookies. cause the weird guy was a haman. and his hat had jelly in it.

there's a song. do you wanna hear the song? of course you do!

"my butt is hot! l'chaim! oy!"

and leah has to go to work tomorrow (which is, coincidentally, good friday as well) because, um, glenn didn't know about jesus? i don't know why. leah, do you know why?

(good friday...cause we like dead jews? or, i don't know again. crazy jewish based religions)

it's Friday night . . .

2005-03-11T20:04:00.000-06:00

. . . and we're not in the mood

inaugurality or take that ego mongers!

2005-03-08T22:14:00.000-06:00

there's far too much cool in this one condo. travis needs to come home and balance it all out for us.