First, I came home last week and in my living room, upon my fireplace hearth to be exact, was a small FISH TANK! You guys, that makes three goddamn tanks in my house. Three! Who needs three tanks?!! You know how many fish live in this new tank? One! One fish, yes. Not only that, this fish has a name. His name is Madmartigan. He was named after Val Kilmer’s character in Willow, naturally. Because when I look at this deep royal blue and navy fish flowing gracefully in the water, I immediately think Val Kilmer in Willow. Not only do we have a rogue fish tank and fish, Val Kilmer fish also has its own separate food from the other tank dwellers in the office. Those fish in the infamous fish tank have been spoiled and now receive a premium mix of three different foods during mealtime. They are fish, and are pampered more than I am. Am I the only one who sees this as a problem?
Second, I had to look this word up: daguerreotype. Fun fact: It’s not an STD but rather the process of producing a photograph on a silver plate, the first of its kind. Thanks, Internet!
Third, my husband every now and then packs up his laptop, my laptop, a microphone and a soundboard to put his DJ skills on display. Over the weekend, they were in full force. He was asked to DJ his cousin’s wedding, and of course he said yes.
My husband’s only DJ issue would be, what he thinks people should dance to is not always what people want to dance to.
To solve this issue, I always make sure the couple or person he is DJ-ing for gives him a list of songs in advance. That way there is some structure. Otherwise, you are going to get Zapp and Roger’s Greatest Hits, Video Game’s Greatest Hits and the score of The Lord of The Rings. Seriously, you guys, he once filled in for a DJ at a friend’s wedding for two songs — while said DJ went to the bathroom and to smoke — and the dance floor went from packed to empty. Not even a child would dance. But behind the booth, DJ Oldstein was back there busting his freshest moves to the goddamn Imperial March or some shit.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen on Saturday. In fact, he even played Ke$ha when it was requested by his cousin’s daughter. I know you all thought I was the only one who would want to hear that shit, but apparently it’s a thing for 8-year-olds. Sounds about right. I mean what 8-year-old doesn’t want to Die Young while waking up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy?
Fourthly … that isn’t a real word is it? Just go with it. Finally, (much better, non?) Michael Vick went and got himself hurt last week, and since he is my starting fantasy football quarterback, I was doomed. Or so, I thought. I have Tom Brady as my backup. How sad is it when Brady is your backup and he only is averaging 13 points a game? Blurgh. So I had to do something, and what I did was drop Vick since he’s still injured and too much of a wild card — but a wild card with mucho points — and picked up Sam Bradford from St. Louis, who is also getting mad points each week. Like at least a 20 spot for sure. I had this all set to go when my husband, who I should point out is only 1-3 in our league, told me how dumb of a choice that was. Basically he Inceptioned me into thinking Sam Bradford was going to ruin my rally week. I suffered my first loss last week, and I refuse to have a repeat, okay?! I was Inceptioned so %#@$-ing hard that I freaked out and went rogue with Robert Griffin III — who, spoiler alert, loves him some Subway (hail to the Redskins or whatever we are maybe going to be calling them in the future). He did not disappoint. I even had 16 points at one time. But you know, like Vick, the dude is a wild card and some interceptions later I was at 13-point-something, which was just a point below Tom Brady. So, again, TOM BRADY… COME ON! You know how many points Sam Bradford had? That’s right, at least 20. I blame my husband for this slight error in quarterback judgment. Thankfully, I still won my match.
There you have it. Four fun facts (debatable) for you to start your week off with. You’re welcome.
Kacie Baum is a professional partier, mother of two pugs, and the wife of Matt Baum. She tolerates the constant presence of the Two-Headed Nerd in her home each week. She did not write this bio. Pre-THN entries of Girl Meets Nerd can be found here.