My new favorite thing: Playing dumb when it comes to all the fucked-up shit in my house.
Plumber: Wow. That’s…huh.
me: I know, right? We have a stupid amount of comic book boxes. Stop judging us.
Plumber: That’s not what I was-
me: No. It’s fine. I do realize we have a problem.
Vaguely related: Beyonce has made the move and is now on the back porch. He is also missing a leg.
The good news though is that twitter is a magical money machine and when I asked everyone I know to paypal me $2 a couple hundred people actually did it because they are amazing and care too much. So then I called a custom welding place and was like “Hi. I need to get an estimate because my giant cock is broken and I need you to weld it back together.” And then I called another one and I was like “Hi. DON’T HANG UP. This is not a joke. A piece of my cock recently broke off and that’s not weird because it’s made of metal and I need someone to help me reattach-Hello? Hello?” And then Victor said that he would just rent a welding thingie and weld it back together himself so I’m pretty sure that means that our entire house is going up in flames. In brighter news, I’m donating the several hundred you sent me to the ASPCA (because they once helped me when my dog ate too many egg rolls) and the local no-kill shelter. I’m also asking the ASPCA to earmark it for “cock rescue” if possible. I can only imagine this will be another phone call that ends with just me on the phone.