Jason spent almost the entire weekend at work, supporting a round-the-clock launch of multiple Very Important Website-y Things or Something Or Other, I Dunno. Like, they booked him a hotel downtown and everything, although they probably shouldn't have bothered, as I got a text message announcing his arrival (and intention to grab a couple hours of sleep before heading back to the office) at 5:35 a.m. on Sunday morning.
Thus the boys and I were left to our own devices, and given some Recent Events and Experiences, I mostly opted to not venture outside, or attempt doing anything at all, besides a shit-ton of laundry and Netflix.
(And a water balloon/water pistol fight. WHICH I WON.)
Specifically, Orange is the New Black, which I KNOW came out like, five million Internet weeks ago but I was trying to patiently wait until Jason's job allowed him to join me on a binge-watch session.
Unfortunately for poor J, I reached the end of my patience rope this weekend and texted him the following warning shot:
And even more unfortunately for J (and several other people who are all probably very sorry they ever gave me their phone numbers), I'd ALSO hit some kind of stir-crazy wall of ultra-easily-amused boredom, when this happened:
Something went awry with the episode's Spanish translation subtitles, and this one just...stuck around. And naturally, instead of being a grown-ass adult who would maybe reach for the remote and figure out how to fix it, I proceeded to take four million photos of every scene, every character, captioned with IN MY VAGINA TO MAKE A BREAD STARTER.
I'm putting the rest of this post behind a break because 1) minor spoilers for the first episode of the newest season of OINTB, I suppose, but mostly 2) I'm aware this is not nearly as funny to anyone else, and seriously, it's just a bunch of blurry photos of my TV captioned with IN MY VAGINA TO MAKE A BREAD STARTER. That's it. That's the whole joke. I've got literally nothing else.
"Just a casual confession here, man."
"You heard me. Suck it."
Alex gets it. The struggle is real, tho.
(Not such a non sequitur with this one, honestly. Moving on.)
At this point, no, I wasn't even paying attention to the real plot, but was fully invested in my own original storyline about a prison-wide yeast infection.
Obviously, it was all Chapman's fault. Christ Chapman, you suck.
And you know dis bish ain't gonna stand for it, either.
Did it become less funny to me once the blood and gore started? No, it absolutely did not, but I realized I was entering spoiler territory for my poor, long-suffering texting audience and decided to STFU.
In summary, it doesn't matter if I leave the house or stay home. I am clearly a disaster either way.