My pal Tom commented, “A lie wouldn’t be half as crazy as truth in our case though. Lmfao.”

It’s true. Then I started thinking about how I met some of the awesome people in my life (aside from the blood relatives, because it’s pretty obvious how I met most of them!). In many cases, the truth is damned near stranger than fiction. Just a few examples:

My best friend/roommate Lyse — Back before the Internet, we both belonged to the Mercedes Lackey fan club and I put an ad in the fan club’s newsletter asking for pen pals. Our first letter exchange included me describing my kids as “larvae” and her asking if they were going to pupate anytime soon. Based on mutually-compatible sick senses of humor, we soon bonded into soul-siblings.

My best friend from high school Brenda — We were in the same French class in high school, and bonded over the fact that when French-English dictionaries were handed out, we both looked up the dirty words first.

My husband Geoffrey — I had just finished braiding his then-girlfriend’s hair at an SCA event, and she was giving me a thank-you kiss. (It was a little more involved than what you might normally expect from a typical thank-you kiss.) He walked up with a rather annoyed look on his face and said something like, “Who are you and why are you kissing my girlfriend?”

My ex Robert (the World’s Best Ex) — He was an assistant manager at a restaurant where I’d just been hired. I took one look at him and thought, “That’s yummy! I’d like some of that!” Two months later, he moved in with me. A month after that, he got fired for “fraternizing” even though we did our best to keep it a secret, and I had already found another job and given my two-week notice.

My Number One Internet Fanboy Karel — We both collect tag lines. One of us (I think it was me but I’m not 100% sure anymore!) sent a thank-you note to the other for posting a text file of tag lines for fellow aficionados to plunder. We started an email pen-pal thing, which led to online chat-pal thing, and eventually arranged a meeting and realized we had great in-person friend chemistry too.

And just how did I meet my friend Tom? He was a band member for a group that was playing a gig at a hotel where Brenda & I were guests at a sci-fi convention. She & I thought he was hot, so we invited him (and another guy I was hitting on at the convention) to join us in the hotel’s hot tub that evening. It turned out to be an awesome weekend. *grin*

9> “Dude, either get some Viagra or invest in tomato stakes.”

8> “Did I tell you how much you remind me of my mother?”

7> “That reminds me, I need to clean the toilet.”

6> “Mrs. Gallagher, this gets me out of next week’s quiz, right?”

5> “Well, that was, ummm, interesting.”

4> “You know for an old broad, you sure can sweat!”

3> “Uh oh, that looks infected.”

2> “Hey! My rings are gone!”

1> “Whoa, you have a prosthetic leg?! Wait’ll I tweet THIS!”

Final page told me:

You placed #5363 with a time of 02:38:50
Your achievement’s been immortalized on the Dropquest Wall of Fame!

(I felt bad about being #5363 until I discovered that the winner only completed it in 2 hours. Then I wasn’t so bummed.)

It wasn’t easy. I earned that adorable knight-defeating-dragon drawing on the last page!

Of course I fraking cheatedtook advantage of helpful souls online providing answersclues. Duh.

Seriously, I would so totally make the Bass Boat, and I think the Dog House is a clever use of re-purposed materials.

None of my relatives were featured in those photos, honest! (Well, my daughter may have taken the Pet Carrier pic, and I used to have a smaller version of the Weather Station. But that’s all.)

I really, truly did — reading this.

I’m never going to forget this phrase: “there’s a little F-16 in my pants.”

Wendi Aarons is my new hero. I would read her blog at work for the stress relief, but I’m pretty sure my manager would call in Animal Control to deal with the hyena in my cubicle.

(I know it’s been 4 days since my wedding and I haven’t blogged it. I will, I promise. Just waiting for My Number One Internet Fanboy and Official Wedding Photographer to get me some piccies. Also my stress levels need to be brought down by at least a few nights on the luscious 500-thread count sheets that Geoffrey’s awesome aunt got us, which are finally going on the bed tonight.)

Silly me overlooked the fact that Sebastian was in hunting mode, and decided to take her out of her cage. (That’s not a typo; Sebastian is female — Anxiety named her before we found out her gender.) When she first bit me, I honestly didn’t feel it. I mean, her entire head is about the size of the fingernail on my ring finger, so you can imagine how tiny her teeth are. But she’s got quite the bite pressure! I tried wedging a fingernail between my skin and her teeth, and absolutely could not do it. So I had Lyse take some pics with her cell phone while I waited for Sebastian to let go.

As I waited, Sebastian decided to subdue her prey’s squirming by grinding her little teeth, which I definitely did feel. Still, it didn’t exactly hurt, it just wasn’t comfortable. And Sebastian showed no interest in letting go! Remembering how I got the last snake that bit me (which was a 5-foot boa constrictor) to release its bite (they stop biting when they figure out that you’re too big to eat), I gently shook my hand — and Sebastian — a few times. Presto, she let go.

I now have several pinprick-sized bite holes that did actually bleed a few drops, and a small but significant amount of bruising around them. Since over 90% of reptiles do carry salmonella in their system, the treatment for a non-venomous bite is pretty simple: wash the hell out of it, plus Neosporin to prevent secondary infection. I’m sure all the marks will be gone in less than a week (unlike the bite from the 5-foot boa, which left small scars that didn’t fade for a few years, since the skin was actually slightly torn).

Also today, I got a much better birthday gift, from Kylanath! She got me a couple cookbooks from my Powell’s wishlist (that I really wanted but probably wasn’t ever going to buy for myself), and a pair of kick-ass drinking glasses: a gorgeous blue one that says “Bitch” and a beautiful purple one that says “Slut.” Woo hoo! I’m seriously envious of both her ability to choose amazing gifts, and her phenomenal gift-wrapping talents. (Due to my extra-special birthday migraine, I forgot to take her pressie over when I dropped in on her this evening, so she’ll get it this weekend.)

Australia has more terror per capita than Elm Street, so if something looks like a nightmarish monster, odds are it’s probably a household pet in the land down under.

Australia: Even though nature vomited monsters all over this barren isle of Lovecraftian horror, we fucking live here anyway, because we just don’t give a shit.

See, Geoffrey having an Aussie girlfriend totally makes sense to me now.

I may be a fangirl, but I’m not this bad.

BTW, it’s all Geoffrey’s fault that I saw either of those.

Now then…

Best blog for a laugh I’ve found in ages — be sure to read the readers’ comments, too, as many of them are easily as funny as the actual articles. I especially recommend the review of Clocky, which is a product I’ve been tempted to get myself. Don’t miss the accompanying video for the Hula Chair! (And hey, Lyse, I told you the Kinoki Foot Pads were a giant scam.)

On the less-impressive side, I’m rather horrified that Cathay Pacific Airlines actually apologized to the stupid bint who was embarrassed by a video posted on the Internet that showed her throwing a temper tantrum over missing a flight. Anyone who is “wailing, throwing herself on the floor, banging on an airport counter and trying to barge through a closed boarding gate” in public DESERVES to be embarrassed on the Internet. For all time.

Many thanks to Breda for introducing me to Steven Crowder, who made me laugh so hard that I had to try to explain it to my Saturday coworkers. I really loved this one:

Wondered what, exactly, the lovely stimulus package that the POTUS has suckered us into actually looks like? The $787 billions (or is that a few trillion?) of dollars isn’t a concept I could really wrap my brain around. But this will show you. I was impressed (or do I mean “aghast”? go ahead, check that dictionary…I’ll wait). We need one of those cute educational films, the kind they used to make schoolkids in the 1950′s watch, titled “Public Debt, what does it mean to you?”

Speaking of the gub’mint, I really enjoyed this list of suggestions for Alternate Names for the “Assault Weapons” Ban — also a great idea to read the readers’ comments in this article! (Do you even know what an assault weapon is? There is no make or model of gun called “Assault Weapon,” after all. It’s a propoganda term — Americans already can’t legally own machine guns, AKA fully automatic firearms, and several other weapons classified as “Title II weapons” without fulfilling the following: obtain permission from the ATF, obtain a signature from the county sheriff or city/town chief of police, pass an extensive background check to include submitting a photograph and finger prints, fully register the firearm, receive ATF written permission before moving the firearm across state lines, and pay a $200 tax.)

Sadly, I did not know about the passing of a great American until a whole week after it happened. I grew up listening to this guy on the radio; those segments are what began my enduring fascination with history:

And because it’s an oldie but a goody, here’s a letter my mom sent me, that my grandma might have written. (Didn’t, mind you, but might have!)

Dear Grand-daughter,

The other day I went up to our local Christian book store and saw a “Honk if you love Jesus” bumper sticker. I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling choir performance, followed by a thunderous prayer meeting. So, I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper. Boy, am I glad I did, what an uplifting experience followed!

I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn’t notice that the light had changed. It’s a good thing someone else loves Jesus, because if he hadn’t honked, I’d never have noticed. I found that lots of people love Jesus! While I was sitting there, the guy behind started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed, “For the love of God, go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, GO!” What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus!

Then everyone started honking! I just leaned out my window and started waving and smiling at all those loving people. I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love! There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach. I saw another guy waving in a funny way, with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my young teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant. He said it was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something. Well, I have never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign right back. My grandson burst out laughing — why, even he was enjoying this religious experience!!

A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray with me, or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed. So, I waved at all my brothers and sisters grinning, and drove on through the intersection. I noticed that I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the Christian love we had shared. So I slowed the car down, leaned out the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.

Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!! Will write again soon,

Love, Grandma

In other news, my high-risk factors for skin cancer (being light-skinned, freckling easily, most of my older relatives have had skin cancer) means that I now have a medical reason to drink coffee!