Archive for the “The Hunk” Category

On 7/8/2016, Tom, my friends and I got to meet our favorite author. We were almost last in line (on purpose; see also: anxiety issues) and got to get our books signed, and talk with Jenny. Tom got his Rory card signed and I gave Jenny the Knitted Knaughties. If you don’t know about these, you’ll have to put that in my search box and enjoy a really good story about Jenny matchmaking me (in Iowa) and Louise (in New Zealand; see also: possible place to move if Trump becomes President, because if so, I’m Audi, dude) to come up with a knitted vagina and penis to show women where to find their clitoris in a totally non-skeevy way. Seriously; some women have to be shown. My sons learned a lot from this pair, and to their future wives, I say, “You. Are. Welcome.”

That was kind of a long stream of consciousness type of ramble, and I blame my phone. So I’ll just tack on the pictures and call it good. 

Yesterday, I worked from 10am-11pm on my website. I went to bed and couldn't sleep so I got back up and worked from 12am-3:30am. Still couldn't sleep until around 6am. I've gotten ZILCH done today (I did manage to shower, brush my teeth, and put on clean clothes) and I'm almost okay with that.

Jenny doing a totally kick-ass reading

Jenny and Tom

Jenny and Tom


Jenny accepting the adoption of the Knitted Knaughties

Jenny accepting the adoption of the Knitted Knaughties

Jenny and I and the Knitted Knaughties

Jenny and I and the Knitted Knaughties

Jenny combining a couple of her gifts so things could get even weirder, if possible

Jenny combining a couple of her gifts so things could get even weirder, if possible

Jenny and Kenzie  conversing intently

Jenny and Kenzie conversing intently

Jenny and Kenzie

Jenny and Kenzie

And they all checked one thing off their bucket list and lived happily ever after. Amen.

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This is a very real Saturday morning for us.

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(Scene: All Asbee’s are watching a DVD together. And no one is abusing each other. Go figure.)

young son, Mika: Mom, what’s ‘ironic’ mean?

Dory: *thinks about it a moment* Well, it’s kind of hard to explain. … It’s like, when you’re working at your job, and there’s a “No Smoking” sign on the wall when you take your cigarette break.

Mika: *completely confused and bewildered*

Tom: Son, it’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.

Mika: You are both. SO. WEIRD.

Dory: My laptop’s open. Dictionary.com is your friend.

Tom: While you’re at it, look up ‘weird’ and see if our picture is up there.

(End Scene.)

Our children are going to be SO warped.

(FYI… I used to use the name The Dinosaur, or Dino, for the younger son. 1- He’s no longer obsessed with dinosaurs and memorizing entire encyclopedias on The Jurassic Period. 2- I also gave the sons weird names so people can’t google them later and find them here. So I’ll just misspell their names instead from now on. Plus, I never use our real last name on here because I don’t want The GirlBeater googling back here.)

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Sometimes I can’t even believe how incredibly blessed I am.

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