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Ride, captain, ride! Upon your mystery (space)ship!

I strangely find myself with way too much free time at work today and nothing to write about. I’m days ahead on the old bloggity blog here, which is good – this week’s going to kick my ass, time-wise – but I have no topics! No topics at all. What will a person talk about. Listen, I wrote THREE BLOG POSTS yesterday. THREE! That’s like seven straight hours of writing. Well, not straight. I stood up sometimes and did other things. Bought some clothes. Walked around a little. Went over and paid the rent. Spent a little time with Dumbcat. But mostly, typing until my fingers almost fell off. Whoo! 

I have some Dad conversations for you. I think you’ll enjoy. You like such things, right? Sure you do. 

Oh, some background: so Dad’s class reunion is coming up. Dad was a popular kid in high school. Or at least he’s a popular kid now. He says he wasn’t that popular in high school but he sure looks awful smiley in all the photos I’ve seen and there are a lot of lay-deez hanging around with him. He says they were not HIS lay-deez but they were hanging around with him because his brothers were popular so they thought that’s how to get in good with his brothers but I think that’s what a person says to their daughter because what are you going to say to your daughter, “I was a total stud in high school?” Ew. Brain bleach BRAIN BLEACH. 

I tried to find a picture from around when Dad was in high school. This is close to the year he graduated. WHOO! Look at these hep cats getting DOWN!

Anyway, so he’s on the reunion planning committee with a bunch of ladies and it seems he’s the only fella. I think he enjoys this because he feels like the only rooster in the henhouse. And there’s a crazy person. Well, that’s mean. I don’t know that she’s CRAZY. She’s…religious. Let’s just say she found Jesus. Because he was apparently playing hide-and-seek. And she found him! Winner! Olly-olly-oxen-free, Jesus! Oh, Jesus, you so crazy, hiding behind the gardening shed! 

This seriously made me snort-laugh. Sorry. I have a really, really juvenile sense of humor.

So this woman – she has a nickname which makes me laugh but I don’t want to use it, that’s rude, so let’s call her…um…Super Sarah, it’s close to the nickname – Super Sarah wanted everyone to know about how she found Missing Jesus. So she wrote a book about it. There seemed to also be something about aliens in it. And spaceships. And how she was a FALLEN WOMAN but Jesus forgave her trampery. 

But no one wanted to read the book. Super Sarah was sad! So she took the list of names and addresses of all the people she graduated with and mailed them all a copy. As you do. 

Well, Dad didn’t like that. Dad didn’t like that AT ALL. (This all happened a couple of months ago. These are two different conversations. I don’t want to confuse anyone.) 

Dad: Remember I told you Super Sarah tried to give me that Missing Jesus book at the planning committee meeting but I was like, I don’t think he’s missing, so I told her I didn’t want it?
Me: Yes. I still think you should have taken it, I want to read about the aliens. I think I could have written an excellent review of that on my blog. Like, Where’s Waldo for the religious types. Only, with aliens. And also Jesus.

Oh, you knew someone already did this, right? A two-second Google search found me this.

Dad: She mailed me a copy this week.
Me: What? In your really real mailbox? How’d she get your address?
Dad: She told the woman in charge of the mailing list she needed it for reunion purposes. But that was a LIE. She needed it for MISSING JESUS BOOK PURPOSES.
Me: I am SO EXCITED. You mail that to me right now. I’ll reimburse you for the postage.
Dad: No. Can’t.
Me: Can’t? Why?
Dad: I wrote “unwanted solicitation” and “illegal use of the U.S. Postal Service” on the envelope and mailed it back. Did you know you don’t even have to pay for mail if you do that? It’s FREE.
Me: You DID? First, BOO, Dad, I WANTED that, and second, HA! I hope the Postal Cops arrest her for sending Jesus through the mail.
Dad: Nah. They won’t. Your Uncle G. read it. He said it reads like she went off her medication.

(Note: my “Uncle G.” isn’t my uncle, but my cousin. But he’s the same age as my uncles, so when we were kids, we were encouraged to call him Uncle G. and it’s kind of stuck. I sometimes call him G. now, which he encourages, and it sounds weird to me because I grew up calling him Uncle G. I also have an Uncle R. who isn’t my uncle but my Dad’s best friend. It’s an Amy’s-family thing, I don’t know.)

Me: I AM SO MAD I DON’T GET TO READ IT. Will Uncle G. send me his copy?
Dad: No. I don’t want you making fun of Jesus on the internet, even if he is in a spaceship.
Me: FINE. You’re totally a joykiller right now.
Dad: If you go to hell for making fun of Missing Spaceship Jesus I’m going to be really sad.
Me: I know. I know. It would be a sad turn of events if you come to find out Super Sarah was on the right track and Jesus was totally a missing alien, like E.T., and the loaves and fishes were really Reese’s Pieces.

E.T. would like you to know he does not approve of this message. He would NEVER make fun of Missing Spaceship Jesus.

Dad: You’re totally going to hell for saying the loaves and fishes are Reese’s Pieces.
Me: I’m going to hell for so many other things than that. That’s just delicious peanut-butter-flavored icing on the burny hellcake, Dad.

So this past weekend, Dad had a reunion party. It wasn’t the REUNION, but a PARTY for the reunion. The reunion’s in July. These people have a LOT of events. I can’t even imagine wanting to hang out with the assholes I graduated with once, let alone a gajillion times. But this party was for everyone who’s ever graduated from his school, and then in July there’s the actual reunion. It’s exhausting just thinking about it. I wonder if, as you age, it’s like “any excuse for a party because most of us are dead anyway?” (I’m KIDDING. They’re only SOME of them dead. Not at ALL mostly.)

Me: So how was the party?
Dad: Fine. Your Uncle G. was the hit of the party. He talked to everyone, even if he didn’t know them.
Me: He’s pretty friendly, that one.
Dad: He made Super Sarah cry.
Me: He DID? Why? Did he tell her the Jesus Spaceship crashed?
Dad: He told her I hated her because she sent me that book, and she started CRYING and WAILING and saying “I CAN’T BELIEVE HE SENT IT BACK TO ME” and then ran to the bathroom. I don’t hate her, I just didn’t want that stupid weird Missing Spaceship Jesus book.

YOU GUYS I FOUND THIS ON THE INTERNET FOR YOU WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE

Me: Ha! What did you do?
Dad: Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t there. It was in another part of the room. G. told me about it. I didn’t see any of it. She stayed right away from me. I think because I don’t believe in Jesus Spaceships. So I’m probably a heathen.
Me: What did Mom think?
Dad: Your mother said, “that woman was always a drama queen” and rolled her eyes.
Me: Good call. Also, you’re probably already pretty emotional if you’ve got one eye on the sky for Missing Jesus in a Spaceship. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.
Dad: No, probably not.
Me: I’m still really mad you didn’t keep that book and mail it to me.
Dad: I think someone said she has a website.
Me: WHAT? I LIVE ON THE INTERNET. What’s the website. What’s her last name?
Dad: I’m not telling you because you’ll make fun of it on your blog.
Me: Of course I will. Anyone would.

PS – I totally just found her website using a combination of her first name, the town where she went to high school, and the word “Jesus.” That’s worrisome. She was the FIRST RESULT, too. Wow. She’s really got a niche market. 

I won’t link to it, because that’s really over the top mean. It’s not her fault she believes in Missing Spaceship Jesus. But I have to put in the book cover. Listen, I HAVE to. It’s – it’s got dolls on it, you guys. DOLLS. With DEAD DEAD EYES. And one was in a FIRE, or possibly needs a BATH.

The “pretty” doll in the mirror has a wonky eye. Couldn’t Missing Spaceship Jesus fix that? That’s kind of rude of him.

Also, per Dad, she was the salutatorian, but her online biography says she barely graduated high school because she couldn’t read. So that kind of means that either there were only two people in the graduating class (there weren’t) or she was REALLY GOOD AT PULLING THE WOOL OVER PEOPLE’S EYES. Or she’s a liar. 

And also, on her website, it shows that she seems to go around doing talks about Missing Spaceship Jesus? And she puts on SKITS. Using PROPS. And COSTUMES. One of which is her dressed like ONE OF THE DOLLS ON HER BOOK COVER. And laughing with her mouth really wide open while wearing crazy-person-on-the-subway-who-doesn’t-know-how-to-color-within-the-lines lipstick. This is just horrifying. And also kind of hysterical. 

I wonder if anyone I went to high school with became a crazy? Well, MORE of a crazy? I’m not going to the reunion to find that out, but it’s an interesting idea that never crossed my mind. 

Also, Dad has NEW TECHNOLOGY NEWS for us! We all like technology so I thought I’d share. 

Dad: You can cancel your Facebook now.
Me: I can? I always could, probably. That option is available to me. Why now, though?
Dad: You don’t need it anymore. There’s a new Facebook. It was on the news.
Me: Oh? What’s the new Facebook?
Dad: Google Plus Something.
 Me: It’s not Plus anything. It’s actually Minus something. Members.
Dad: What? You’ve HEARD of it? But it’s brand new!
Me: No, it came out last summer or something, I think. I’ve been on it for a while.
Dad: No, it was on the news!
Me: Well, that’s good, Dad, but I assure you it’s been around for about a year. Maybe it was telling you it’s been around for a year and people should sign up because it COULD be the next Facebook, were anyone to sign up for it.
Dad: It said it’s better than Facebook! Because it’s from Google!
Me: It’s not bad. But no one’s on it. It’s like someone telling you, “stop going to the most popular nightclub in town, this one’s better!” and you show up, and it’s nice, and it’s shiny, and it has good music and drinks and stuff, but there’s no one there. You’ll eventually go back to the first nightclub because you’re bored out of your mind and there’s no one to talk to but the bartender.
Dad: There’s music and drinks?
Me: No. It was an analogy I just made up just now. It wasn’t very good. If I’d had notice, I could have done better.
Dad: Why did the news tell me it was better than Facebook if it’s not? I don’t understand.
Me: I think the people at Google are very sad their master plan didn’t work out. They do so well with so many other things. I imagine the Google people very perplexed about the failure of Google Plus to take off. Also, it’s all very subjective. It MIGHT be better than Facebook, if people were to join it. There’s no one to talk to right now.
Dad: I feel tricked. I got an email from Google telling me I should sign up for it the other day. I should reply and give them a piece of my mind for lying to me on the news.
Me: You could. But I don’t think they’d care, Dad. Also, it’s not a lie. It’s an OPINION.
Dad: I WOULD CARE.
Me: OK. Well, then feel free to email Google and take them to task for giving you their opinion about the superiority of their social media platform.
Dad: I MIGHT JUST DO THAT.

Man, Google Images is winning today. PENGUIN COMPLAINTS!

Me: Were you even going to sign up? You don’t even have a Facebook account. You hate Facebook.
Dad: No, of course I wasn’t. Those places are where the government spies track you.
Me: This is really all a moot point, then, isn’t it?
Dad: DON’T LIE TO ME ON THE NEWS.
Me: OK, Dad. OK. No lying on the news. Wait, was this on Fox News?
Dad: What other news do I watch?
Me: Oh, yes, then I can see how you’d get upset about a lie being on Fox News. You write that letter. Can’t have lies being on Fox News. 

There’s the latest in Amy’s Dad-land. Much DRAMA! 

Don’t forget – you have about 36 hours to comment on this post in order to enter the drawing for a box of as-yet-undetermined awesomeness! 

And…for today’s Bloggiversary celebration…your THIRD MOST POPULAR POST! This post is one of MY favorites, too. Because it was a group effort, and we all coordinated and laughed and had the best time and it was a whole WEEK of awesomeness and people STILL find my blog be searching for “Sneaky Fuckerism.” I love that you’re all still reading this. (Caution, little kiddos who might be reading, there’s a LOT of cussing in that post. But it is sciency cussing.)

I’m a Lover, Not a Fighter, and I’m Really Built for Speed 

Happy Thursday! Look how the week is almost over. I have rehearsal tonight. Then I’m going to go home and schlump on the couch all exhausted-like. WHAT A WEEK WHOO!

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About lucysfootball

I'm not the girl with the most cake. Someday. SOMEDAY. View all posts by lucysfootball

36 responses to “Ride, captain, ride! Upon your mystery (space)ship!

  • Jericha Senyak (@JerichaSenyak)

    Everything about this post is awesome. The quotes. (“delicious peanut-butter-flavored icing on the burny hellcake”? STEALING IT.) The Jesus lady. (Who I am NOBLY REFRAINING FROM GOOGLING even though I REALLY WANT TO because it would be solely for the purposes of mockery, and that is not nice, and I am nice.) The epic failure of Google +. Which, by the way, is so neatly summed up by your nightclub analogy that nobody ever needs to talk about it again and we can just sit around waiting for it to get sold and turn into a laundromat.

    Like

  • Andreas Heinakroon

    Amy, I just found this video and felt I needed to share it:

    Like

  • Caron ET (@runreadrant)

    Once again I am cracking up…and I too want to read about Jesus/aliens..I think my husband knows this woman. I love your Dad!

    Like

  • elaine4queen

    “I can’t even imagine wanting to hang out with the assholes I graduated with once”

    THIS. THIS. AND THRICE THIS.

    i was on google+ for a bit because there were some crippy people i was hanging out with there, but there was also this thing where somehow some people there could direct mail you and there seemed to be no way of unsubscribing. so i unsubscribed BUT GOOD because i didn’t like what turned out to be quite an annoying method of direct mailing me a lot of crap about expensive “cures” for fibro. bugger off, lady! SHAZAM!

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      Well, that’s annoying. No one ever direct mails me. Unless they are and I don’t know it or something. Huh.

      Like

      • elaine4queen

        it’s boring and annoying, if that’s any help to ya!

        i’d have hung around with my g+ peeps otherwise, it was a little group of painys, which i didn’t have anywhere else, but the aggressive marketer pissed me off too much and i really couldn’t see how to stop her.

        Like

        • Kelly Naylor

          AH! Yes, yes! That might have been the woman who found me too, because I was talking to one of my fellow fibro sufferers, and all of a sudden all this obnoxious stuff was coming from some nut. I can’t remember what I did to get her to stop. I either put her in a circle called People to Ignore or reported her as a spammer. Probably the latter, because I’m just used to doing that on Twitter.

          Like

  • sj

    Well, I already told you that I tried googling her. Now I feel like an ass, but I would have been A LAUGHING ASS.

    [sigh]

    I have friends at google that sent me an invite, like, the day g+ went live and I haven’t used it since about September of last year? It’s not a whole lot of fun, especially because I don’t want to follow famous people or use my real name for public posts. [shrug]

    Another wins the internet post, Amy. How do you do this?

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      You’re never an ass. You’re my fave.

      I don’t use it much. I post my daily posts on there. And about once a week, I read what everyone else has posted, which is really just THEIR posts. Which I’ve already read. It’s really a non-starter.

      I don’t KNOW how I do it! Am I made of magic?

      Like

      • sj

        I think you must be made of magic. MADE OF IT!

        I found this under a google image search for Made of Magic, which is APROPOS OF NOTHING AT ALL, but made me laugh:

        Somehow I get new followers every week. I think I was up to 175 last time I checked, which is pretty funny since I haven’t posted since [runs to check] November 7th. Why do people keep following me? I HAVEN’T BEEN THERE IN SEVEN MONTHS, I ONLY DO HANGOUTS OCCASIONALLY LEAVE ME ALONE!

        Like

  • becomingcliche

    Hey, I’m on Google +, which makes it the coolest thing since sliced bread. Seriously. Sliced bread. While everyone else is buying artisan breads at Panera, I get the sliced Wonder Bread. Look me up. I’m awesome.

    Like

  • Heather

    Your conversations with your dad are fantastic. Hahaha! I laughed through the whole post, but I LOST IT COMPLETELY at the very end over the Faux News bit. I’m still laughing.

    Like

  • jbrown3079

    When I was a window clerk at the Postal Service one day an older guy came in with his wife. He had an unopened package from Book-of-the-Month Club. He wanted to know how to stop these books.”They just keep coming.”. I gave him the advice your father used. But the guy was so worked up over this unwanted book. I mean, his wife kept patting his arm as if she was preventing him from having a stroke or worse.

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      Aw, I can just imagine it! Poor guy. Those things DO keep coming, too. I was in that in college, just to get the free books, then I cancelled, but they ignored my cancellation and kept sending them. Jerks.

      Like

  • lahikmajoe

    I have a high school friend who went off her rocker. Actually, I went to a weird school. There are a handful of doozies scattered through the graduating classes.

    Wish I could write more about them, but they seem to be web-proficient enough that they just might happen upon my blog. Too bad. They really are such wackos that it would be immediately obvious about whom I was writing.

    We’ve talked about you doing an advice column. But now I have an even better idea.

    Let us send your dad queries through you. We could get the wisdom of the ages if you’re only willing to be the conduit. What do you think?

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      Oh, boo. I want to hear about crazies. I do so love crazy stories.

      I would be happy to ask Dad anything. Ask away. I don’t know how much “wisdom” you’d get, though. I think most of his answers would fall under the following categories:

      –hippies
      –dirty hippies
      –the government is tracking you
      –killers
      –commies
      –dirty hippie killer commies that somehow work for the government tracking program

      and

      –delicious meat products.

      But yes, sure. Ask away.

      Like

  • blogginglily

    awww, i love the Dad Dialogues, as you know!

    Have you ever been to the timecube website? It reads like insanity. It’s really something. I’ll have to look it up: http://www.timecube.com/. You should read it.

    It’s this weird thing where everything is SO CLOSE to making sense and tying together, but it very obviously does not, and you just watch his rambling dissertation get longer and screwier and marvel. Go there. Read up!

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      What IS that? Is it a real thing, or is he trying to mindf*ck us? I could only read a little before my head started to hurt.

      More Dad fun tomorrow! But you are not here on the weekends. Well, more Dad fun for you to come back to on Monday!

      Like

  • ProfMomEsq

    Damn, damn, damn! I wrote a comment yesterday but I did it on my phone, which hates me, and is not here. Now I don’t even remember what I said, but I had a whole story about Sam the Eagle. Plus, I said Happy Blogiversary (4). :-( *sniff*

    Like

  • Kelly Naylor

    I’m not sure, but it’s very possible that your dad and my dad could have been besties if they’d ever met, except it seems like your dad is WAY nicer than mine, so maybe not. And also? My dad’s already dead (and really, I keep telling everyone this, it’s totally ok because he was an asshat).

    But other than all THAT, your dad and my dad would have had a good time talking about Super Sarah and her silly book. Mind you, my dad was totally into being religious and stuff, and had at least 742,891 reasons why I was going to go to hell, but forcing your religion on anybody except your own kids was kind of against his rules. (I think that was reason #2 that I was going to hell… I gave up Catholicism for Lent one year and never took it up again, a joke I find HILARIOUS but he failed to find any humor in whatsoever, poor guy.)

    But that whole Finding Jesus thing? So, when I first moved out here to the New York place, we lived over in Niskayuna for a while. (Ugh. SUPPOSEDLY they have awesome schools, which I thought was important for the Offspring. Let’s just say, if I knew then what I know now, we’d have moved right on into Albany and I’d have send her to a nice Montessori school.) So, the point: the wandering missionaries would come and ring our doorbell WAY TOO EARLY every Saturday morning. This really torqued me, because Saturday is a DAY OFF (usually), and it’s ok to sleep until 9am if I want! But nooooooooo. I had to have wandering missionaries ringing my doorbell at 7:30am. (Isn’t there a law against that? There should be.) The first couple of times, I was polite, because I am a polite person. Until you piss me off, then… well, let’s just say all bets are off, eh? So. The third or fourth time, they came by, I was mildly mocking. “Oh! Goodness, you’ve lost the poor boy AGAIN? No, I haven’t seen him, but if I do, I’ll tell him to call you.” That just confused them (bonus round to me, yay!), but it did not deter them. So the next time they came back, I had to kick it up a notch. “Yes! I did find him! He was hiding behind the sofa the whole time! Can you believe it? I told him he should go find you. He never showed up? Gosh, do you think he’s directionally challenged?” (YES, AMY!! THAT IS A THING!!!) Now, you’d think this would give them a clue, wouldn’t you, that they should leave those crazy people in the yellow house alone? I would think so, but nope. So the next time they showed up, I — ahem — pulled out the big guns. I was RUDE. “Yes, gods damn it! I found Jesus, and we were having AMAZING SEX AND YOU INTERRUPTED US!!” I swear, they ran so fast, I’m not sure their shiny black shoes ever touched the ground. Also, they never came back. A note must have gone out to Missionary Headquarters because even after we moved into Albany, they never came by the house. I win!

    You know, commenting on your blog is making me want to start writing my word blog again. Hmmm.

    And about Google+? Hee hee. Yeah, I signed up. And it is TOTALLY like an empty, shiny, beautiful place. Poor Google.

    In related news, they put an Ice Cream Sandwich on my Xoom yesterday. I’m not sure I’m pleased… mostly because they moved the position of the OK button where I have to type my password to get to my stuff, so I keep pressing the zero instead. Dorks. Stop trying to be like Microsoft.

    I’m off to see Prometheus with the Spousal Unit now, but I have squeeee to squeeee on your post about meeting Susie. But later.

    Like

    • lucysfootball

      Google Plus doesn’t really stand a chance, I don’t think. I hoped it would take off at some point, but it’s not doing anything, and it’s been a while. It’s sad.

      Hope the movie was good!

      Like

      • Kelly Naylor

        It is kinda sad about Google+. I had hopes, I had dreams… dashed and destroyed. The weird thing is that I can’t quite put my finger on why I wasn’t as enthusiastic about Google+ as I’d thought I’d be.

        Ah! If Prometheus doesn’t win an Oscar for best cinematography, I will suspect those people who vote on such things have lost their collective minds. Also, the story was good, the acting was good — some of it VERY good — there was action, adventure, heroics, and gross, creepy monsters. I can continue to declare, “I have never seen a bad Ridley Scott film!”

        Like

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