As you know, I recently found an apartment for my friend, SFiasco, who is moving to Chicago from San Francisco. Last night she pinged me on G-chat:
SFiasco: Damn you for making me look at hot apartment guy’s Facebook profile today. Which one is he?
Me: The hot one! Second from the right.
SFiasco: STOP.
Me: I TOLD YOU
SFiasco: I just got pregnant looking at him.
Me: with twins.
SFiasco: Duh. That’s too much man for just one embryo. Ugh, why was I crazy on the phone with him? fml.
Me: How old is he?
SFiasco: Stalker survey says … Graduated in 2010, so 22 unless he “helped on the farm for a few years” or was held back because of a tractor-induced brain injury.
Me: hahahaha. confession: he may actually be the reason you’re living in your new apartment building … but he’s a VERY, VERY good reason.
SFiasco: figured
Me: Ok, so I have to write a post for tomorrow, but my draft is bordering on pathetic. I’m venting about spooning with a gassy rescue dog who grinds his teeth. I don’t know how much more of this readers can take.
SFiasco: That’s not bad. I woke up hugging my laptop last night. I almost ruined the screen with drool.
Me: oh god.
SFiasco: P.S. Did I tell you the best part of my call yesterday with corn-fed? I was trying to pick my unit over the phone and we kept debating the dumb $400 they’re making me pay in pro-rated rent for the week I’m not even there. He justified it by saying “but, think what you’re getting. we’ll be here for you to talk to all the time.” Given the number of times I’d called him this week, I thought he might be joking … do they have sarcasm in Iowa?
Me: Nope. Dude, you guys are so gonna bang!
SFiasco: Don’t dip your nub in the apartment ink.
Me: 1) What’s a nub? 2) That’s EXACTLY how a porn movie starts.
SFiasco: I’m not banging my 22-year-old building sales guy.
Me: Whatever, I dated the cafeteria guy in my old office. We met when he catered our holiday party. What can I say? I have a thing for uniforms.
SFiasco: #disaster. Dude, why don’t you just post our gchats on the blog?
Me: That’s the best thing you’ve ever said.
Related Disasters:
Tonight I received the SECOND message from the Happy Humper. Only this time, it was minimalist. It arrived via gchat: “Happy Hump Day!”
Did I miss something? Is there some deliciously rich dark chocolate Hallmark holiday happening and I’m clueless?
I didn’t know how to respond. So I did the best I could. I said: “I don’t recognize Hump Day. I’m Jewish.”
Related Disasters:
Subscribe Via Email
Become A Fan
Categories
Recent Posts
- I Heart You Rachel Dratch, From Your BFF, Disaster
- The Genius
- This Is The Pits
- The Write-Off
- A Return to Roots
- One Glove, One Heart
- I’m a Fraunt!
- Sugar Coated
- How to Shake a Stage Five Drunk
- A Disaster’s Guide to Fixin’ Shit
- Sea Biscuits
- Guess Who’s Not Coming to Dinner?
- Finally, A Fairytale I can Believe In
- High San Francisco!
- Scent of A Woman
My Twit Feed
- RT @jgolden3: Sometimes I love the people I work with... other times I hate them. Now is the latter... http://t.co/gxf60mC7 #, 2012/05/03
- The daily verbatim: "Im just looking for a understanding women. I work with Computers. Im stable and well Ground.... http://t.co/q1IWE00l #, 2012/05/03
- @heidiskinner Absolutely! Do not take this lightly. It's the role of a lifetime. #Disasterella #, 2012/05/03
- @gloss48 so good talking to you yesterday. I can't wait to get glamorous. #, 2012/05/03
- @heidiskinner yes! You can be my Disaster Fairy Godmother. It will be easy. I already have the shoes! #, 2012/05/03

