Nerding My Wife 3

Let’s start with a side note.

One of my dear friends wrote a tearjerker about the passing of her family dog.  Krya, the great dane, passed away this afternoon and was remembered on Tricia’s blog in a beautiful epitaph that will make you think about just how much your pets mean to you.  Go give it a read.  If you’re like me and childless because your body hasn’t yet decided it wants to work properly and create more humans, your pets are your children.  I can’t imagine a world without my dogs and know that someday saying goodbye to them is going to be as painful as losing any member of my family.

Tricia also just became an editor for C. S. Splitter, so you can throw some celebratory ham at her as a congrats.  If you’re into celebratory ham throwing.

Also on a second, self-promoting side note… I’ve written a guest post for another good friend Alexis (Bunny Ears & Bat Wings) that will be posted on her site early next week.  Yay!  Stay tuned.

Now – to the action!

Oh, that’s right.  Not much happened.  Bummer.

Hey hold on a second, I hear someone outside stealing my trash…

Ok sweet, they took my old burned grill and mostly-broken patio chairs.  Score!

Oh yeah!  This is a public blog where I’m trying to come across as a semi-professional writer of entertaining things.   Ha.  My apologies.  Here’s an emu:

Good, now your mind is wiped.  Staring into that thing’s hilariously goofy eyes is nature’s equivalent of the noisy cricket from Men in Black.

The weekend before last, I made a few goals for Nerding My Wife:

  • Nursehellamentary School: A Screening of Nerdcore Rising to Examine MC Frontalot, STD, MC Chris and Others
  • NPR in the Car: Honestly, Before I Stab You, Trade Jason Derulo for Ira Flatow.
  • Look Dear, The Guild is Streaming on Xbox!

All we accomplished was the first one.  I know, worst week yet.  And I was informed the second is never going to happen, so that’s a big brown box of bummers.  At least I tried to enrich my wife with the wonders of public radio.  Turns out she can’t get enough of that Adam Levine to switch to the realm of calm educational chatter.  She’d rather have LMFAO than the sweet lullaby voices of Steve Inskeep and Neal Conan.  I will just have to listen to Terry Gross on my own time and continue to revel in the hilarious number of fart jokes that can be made when you consider Terry Gross hosts Fresh Aire.

Rawr!

Red button earrings are so hot.  I work with a guy with that same haircut.

To accomplish the Nursehellamentary task, I achieved a number of things.  My wife not only watched the entirety of Nerdcore Rising (and only fell asleep once), but she jammed with me to a number of MC Frontalot and MC Lars songs while we were folding laundry.  Yes, I realize the lameness of that sentence.

She also eagerly sat us down in the living room to marathon watch a few episodes of Torchwood: Miracle Day.  Which, I must add, is so so completely sexy that I want to undress it and lick its shins.  I’ve loved Torchwood from the start but holy shitrockets, what a fantastic series.

Perhaps the most excellent bit of nerdiness my wife demonstrated this weekend came in the form of her being obsessed with a computer game.  Now, many people know it’s as easy to get my wife to game with me as it is to get my poodle to help us fold laundry while we listen to MC Frontalot.  Needless to say I was surprised when my wife said:

“Do you remember Hover?”

Yeah son B, THAT Hover.

Hover was a game buried on the Windows 95 disc along with some other random crap that made no sense to be there, like Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” music video.  My wife suddenly remembered it existed and said she “used to spend hours playing hover on my dad’s laptop and not bothering to get out of my pajamas all day.”

What? 

It was only a few minutes after she remembered the game that she found a website hosting the file, downloaded the executable and started playing.  That was the last I heard from her.  Even when I wanted dinner.

Especially when I wanted dinner.

So, despite many failures to reach the goals of nerdiness set forth by myself in the previous entry, my wife gets a certificate of accomplishment for exhibiting nerdy ambition by enthusiastically remembering, downloading and playing Hover with ardent quantities of zeal.  The glasses go up a small bit.

Last time:

This time:

Yeah.  It’s just a peep.

But hey, I bet YOUR wife doesn’t play Hover.

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