My Baby’s Got Sauce

Black heart graffiti on wall at local pizzeria.

”Got a sharp mouth a sharp tongue” —G. Love

My wife is the best.

Yeah . . . Yeah . . . Yeah. . . I know. Your baby’s got sauce. But your baby ain’t SUH-WEET like mine.

You’re incredulous. I get it. You’re wondering, out of all the 70 hundred million billion wifes out there, how can I make such a bold claim? Cause this happened:

I was having a bad day. Full disclouse (assuming you don’t want to read the link provided), the shituation was completely my fault. I even realized it at the time. Regardless, a shit storm’s a shit storm and as much as I’d like to be a stoic master, I am not. I went full Hulk over some minuscule entitlement that was being denied me: Popeyes was out of chicken, for the moment, and I was going to have to wait for a full 15 minutes to get a freshly made batch.

(travesty!)

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Shitty Movie Detail: Captain Marvel

FT, Fartiste Theater's frankenthing mascot.
FT, Fartiste Theater’s frankenthing mascot.

Mar-Vell’s cat is a crossover from Lovecraft’s universe of Elder Gods. In fact, Goose is an anagram of Cthulhu, which is a subtle nod to my inability to spell and ignorance of what, exactly, an anagram is.

Journaling June: Bad Bunny Primer

Bad Bunny Butch watching from the corner of my desk.

My name is Butch. I’m a bad bunny. I’m Aeryk’s bad bunny.

(what’s a bad bunny?)

You know Calvin & Hobbes, right? Specifically, Hobbes, the toy tiger/imaginary friend? Well, that’s me, except I’m not an imaginary friend, though Aeryk does have a cute little stuffed doll of me (see the featured image). It doesn’t come to life like Hobbes does for Calvin. Rather, Aeryk sees his doll as a physical manifestation of me. He thinks of it as a kind of totem in which he can capture my essence after some hocus pocus ritual, or some such derivative Stephen King crap.

Continue reading “Journaling June: Bad Bunny Primer”