Atlantic Assault 2009

I had a whole post planned and actually written about the serious weather shit we just went through, but I deleted it. It was boring and wordy. I will share some pictures, however, because they are kind of funny (you should see the ones I refuse to put online. I may e-mail them to you for the right amount of Robporn).


But first, several things.


1. Have you written your Twiangle twiku yet? Yeah, me either. But you must! Go here for more info.


2. Matt Bushell wants YOU to join his Phantatic Phil Phanclub. There's no official site (yet!) but it's coming. Oh yes, it's coming. Trend him on Twitter. #MattBushell .


3. Have you seen The Haunted Airman? Wanna watch it and then write down your thoughts in a special Haunted Airman journal? RobsSwissMiss and I are sending that bad boy across the world, and you're invited to join in on the fun. Just e-mail or DM either one of us for details. I'm @donnersun, by the way.


4. Who the fuck is excited for Thursday? Me! And you, I'm sure. I cannot wait. I am going to be a puddle of mushy goo by the time I leave work on Thursday. Fun fact: Did you know that when Snow White first came out, they had to replace the seats in Radio City Music Hall because so many kids wet themselves when the wicked witch came onscreen? I wonder how many seats will need to be replaced after this weekend ifyouknowwhatimsayin! ;-)




So without further adieu, I give to you the past four days. They were filled with rain, alcohol, crazy newscasters, flying sheds, and Twilight (natch). I did go out in the middle of a hurricane to buy a Vanity Fair and beer. How's that kind of dedication for ya?

The reason Brad and Leighann evacuated to my house. Flying Shed.







Jager in a Hurricane glass? Yes please.

And I'm good. Got my baby, my Mama Bear, and a beer.

Bubbly? Why not!

That's the leak. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Brad lost his mind around day 3 and started reading my magazines.

A Parakeet With a British Accent....

Wait for it....

I'm having what I've started referring to as PTRD (Post Traumatic Rob Disorder). I'm on Rob overload. I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't eat. Eh, who am I kidding...I'm eating. But yeah, it's bad. I mean, how about that new trailer? Holy fuck! That shot where he's standing there with his shirt off and it looks like he doesn't have any pants on (we call that The Man V around my house)? I need a cupcake, right now!!! And then last night at the VMA's when he was all happy drunk and slurring his words? Adorable. We celebrated the adorable with shots of Jager and me blowing an airhorn inside the house. I am not going to be able to sit still during that movie. Hmmmm...maybe I should take an airhorn to the movie....

And then there was the season finale of True Blood. How fantastic was that? I seriously got tears in my eyes when I thought they were going to kill Sam. I was on a bit of an emotional overload, but still...it was too much! And then the way he totally rammed his horn into Maryann. Sick. My only complaint is Bill. I cannot freaking stand him. The whole second half of the episode, I was chanting, "Eric come kill him, Eric come kill him, Eric come kill him." And then he proposed? What the hell, yo? I wanna see Bill tortured. By Eric. Naked.

The Redskins did lose, which sucked, and my fantasy football team (Cracker's Crushers, named after my super totally cool parakeet) is in last place. It was not a good weekend for football. Meh...at least McNabb cracked a few ribs.

And speaking of parakeets....I read somewhere that the bird who had the world record for saying the most words was a parakeet. Soooooooo...after eating year old, moonshine soaked peaches on Saturday night, we decided that we needed to teach Crackrock to talk like Rob. How cool would that be? We started a list of phrases and I'm going to send Rob a tape recorder and ask him to repeat the list so that I can play it over and over for Crackers. Think it'll work? If you have any suggestions for Rob phrases my parakeet should learn, send 'em my way. My ultimate goal is that Rob will realize how totally perfect we are for each other and show up at my house one day (since my return address will be on the envelope). My psychic said that I was going to meet the man of my dreams this month, so I need to get on this shit, stat!

I had an annoyingly Non-Twilightly Labor Day weekend. I did purchse New Moon tickets, which was totally squee-worthy, except that I was in a hotel room with my grandmother and aunt and they really didn't appreciate the complete and total glory. I also made the mistake of offering them a chocolate Edward, and my aunt actually said "Who's Edward?" GASP! They didn't deserve Edward. They got a Jacob, but I even felt kinda slimy giving them him. Hate to waste chocolate and hot men-boys.

Then I made another mistake. Started reading smutty fanfic before going to sleep. In the hotel room with said aunt and grandmother. It was almost entirely undbearable, but I couldn't stop reading. Luckily, I had procured a jar of moonshine and was able to knock myself out pretty quickly. Ain't nothin' like a little shine and little Robward porn.

Me Exploding

After I got home on Sunday, I spent the next two days on the couch reading as much fanfic as I could. I stopped briefly to go buy a parakeet (long story...his name is Crackrock McSpongey) and to take my mom to have an endoscopy.

Crackrock McSponey aka Crackers

My Robward flask did ship, though sadly did not arrive in time for me to put moonshine in it and drink myself stupid. Overall, it was kind of a meh weekend. I could have used a pick-me-up, like Rob standing naked on my doorstep or a winning lottery ticket. I guess there's always next week...(which happens to include the MTV Video Music Awards and the season finale of True Blood and the first Redskins game of the season).