Random Historical Facts With Dorian

Note: This was said very loudly and clearly, in such a matter-of-fact tone that I thought he was awake.

"That's right! The ancient Egyptians thought that the brain just made mucus."

A Cat Named Bacon

Hello again!

So Dorian and I finally had our legal, official wedding last month (and I'm finally getting around to catching up on this), and I wanted to start off by sharing something from that. We got married out of town, and arrived a day earlier than we had the hotel room reserved. Fortunately, we have lots of friends and family there, and my close-friend-like-a-sister Sascha and her roommate Veronica (who is also a close friend) let us crash at their place for the night.

They have two cats: Sascha's is an enormous gray Maine Coon that may or may not have some bobcat in him named Spike. Veronica's is a shorthair tabby that was a mangy, skinny, flea-infested kitten at adoption. Because of the cat's appearance back then, Veronica named her "Bacon." (Bacon is a very healthy looking, slightly round, cat now.)

So Bacon woke up in the morning around six. I woke up around six thirty. Dorian was still sleeping at seven. I'm not sure what Bacon thought of the two people lying out on the futon in the living room, but she apparently wanted us up, and so shuffled over next to the futon and  began meowing loudly. This was just enough to rouse Dorian, but not wake him up.

He rolled over, pointed an accusing finger at Bacon, and, his fingertip an inch away from Bacon's nose, shouted, "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, DO YOU?"

This stunned Bacon into confused silence. Dorian grunted in satisfaction, and began to snore contentedly again.

And now for quotes that don't require context:

"Sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make everyone gay narwhals."

"Coconuts. Coconut jam. Stick that up the calibrator. Boom!"

"Did everyone feed the giraffes? Are they still in their cage?...Oh, good, they can't come in...ceiling's too low."

Dorian: "Adom."
Me: "Mmmf."
Dorian: "We need to get more expendible friends. We're running out."
Me: 0.o

(Said in a cool, matter-of-fact tone) "There are scorpions dancing on my face. Please remove them."

"I didn't know about the orangutangs!"

Dorian: "Adom."
Me: "Uh?"
Dorian: "Adom."
Me: "What?"
Dorian: (Beatboxes, squirms rhythmically.)

Ganondorf

"Would you say that there is a brown tie...floating in water?"

"For your cake, you should make a nativity scene with Mary and Joseph and the three wise men all holding forks and knives."

"Don't believe in him...just don't...he's not Ganondorf...Ganondorf...Dannongorf..."

"Um. Why don't you have it on the shuffleboard court? Hmm?"
"Uh...it's raining."
"Ah. Hmm. Handjobs it is."

Lemon Pepper Jelly

Sometimes, when Dorian sleep talks, it seems his (considerable) vocabulary is set on "word salad." Tonight, as he fell asleep on the couch, was one of those times.

Dorian: "I got them to stop using the two liters. Now they're using parts of some guy named Logan.  The kids were...nonplussed...lunar...you don't have to be surprised when we get home...Adom, I figured it out...how you can be robust in public...pay taxes to the black guy...he took all the cashews. I'd do the same, come to think of it...Lemon pepper...jelly...Morocco...Adom, don't, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not done. Don't listen to that fool, Adom! Gamestop is bad, no free tacos...ever. When you're out on the bridge with your friend, you don't turn on the weather, right? No good. Not nearly enough tartar sauce...Got to let 'em tie it. Does the name Lord Dunsany mean anything to you?...Dun-saney. Lovecraft read Dun-saney. That's where that name comes from. Ok, mystery solved. I can have a bit of wine, now..."
(He stirs and realizes he's fallen asleep on the couch.)
Dorian: "I think I'll go to bed, now..."
(He drifts off again, and startles awake, alarmed, a moment later.)
Dorian: "Uh! Do we have figs?"
Me: "Um, no."
Dorian: "Ok, then, I'll just go to bed."
(He falls asleep again, and the song on my early music Pandora station changes. He awakens again, startled.)
Me: "You okay, sweetie?"
Dorian: "Yeah, fuck flutes, dude. This flute song is incongruous with my idea of a brat."

What?

"I'm thinking about chickens with...math things."

"Sweetie...Adom..."
"Yes, love?"
"...Bananimals."

He also slept for a while in the "Child Pose" position

Dorian hurt his back at Dagorhir practice today, so he lounged out on the living room floor, and, eventually, inevitably, fell asleep there. At one point, he sat up, but fell asleep again, and Akhim walked over to see what the hell he was doing.
"Sweetie."
"Uh?"
"Sweetie!"
"Uh."
"Dorian. Dorian. DORIAN!"
"Uhhh."
"Logus!" (Dorian's Dagorhir character name.) "DORIAN!"
"Uuuh...what?"
(As Akhim climbs into Dorian's lap.) "I didn't want you to get spooked by the cat."
(Falling back to sleep.) "Oh...he's a cannibal, you know."
"It's about seventeen feet tall, with seven legs...don't talk about your pregnancy, Java."

"Nope! You lose your armor!" (Swings his arm repeatedly, as though holding a sword.)

"See, now you have to consider, what about you're on the roof?" (Pushes someone or something, waves, and giggles.) "It flies! Whee!"

"If I were Batman, I'd sneak into people's houses and clean their bathroom mirrors. And that'd be the first thing they saw in the morning. They'd be like, 'oh, shit, this place is clean, what else happened?' and I'd be like, 'BAM! Took your couch!'"

The Bed

Ragnarok was last week, and so Dorian and I spent the week camping. Dorian, having served in the military, has a much greater commitment to Spartan living and minimalist camping than I do. Furthermore, the week leading up to Rag (and throughout most of Rag itself), I was very, very sick, and wasn't able to contribute much to the packing venture.

So let me tell you about our bed.

Our bed at Rag this year was a thick 5x6 floor rug, upon which was laid two layers of polar fleece. I had a pillow, because I insisted upon it, but Dorian used folded up clothes. This was a very economical use of packing space, but also incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable. And also far too small for two people who are not what you might call "lithe."

As I was ill, I frequently had to sit up in the middle of the night to accommodate a coughing fit. Each and every time I did, Dorian would sense there was suddenly more room in the bed, and roll over to take advantage of it. One can hardly blame him for wanting to be comfortable, but that's how this conversation ended up taking place:

"Dorian, you took my part of the bed again."
He continued to sleep. "Uhhng...no, I didn't."
"Yes, you did, love. Could you please move?"
"I didn't! See, I'm on the edge," he said, still not rousing.
At this point, Dorian reached to the right and tapped his hand against the edge of the rug...then did the same with his other hand, on the left hand side.
"You're on both edges, sweetie. I need some space."
"Uuuhhhhhhnnnnhhh...."

This continued like this for a while, until I just grabbed my pillow and laid down on top of my cloak, which had until this point been pulling double duty as my blanket. After a while, I was able to fall asleep again.

Until Dorian elbowed me in the eye.

"Ow! Dorian! That was my eyeball!"
"I need the pillow!" He shouted, wedging his arm in under my head as I sat up. "My arm will break!"
"...What."
"My arm's breaking," he insisted in his sleep, stretching his arm out over my pillow, his face buried in his cloak, which served as his pillow that evening. Sighing in irritation, I attempted to move his arm. "No! Don't! You'll break it!"
"For fuck's...Could you please move your arm."
"Can't, it'll break if I don't elevate it."

I waited a moment, then tried to lie down with my head on top of his arm--one of our cuddling positions, something I was reasonably certain he wouldn't object to.

"Noooo! Your hair will break my arm!"

And that's when I shook him awake.

We have agreed that a more serviceable bed is required for next year.



The rest are just random quotes from the week:

"It had eight months of banana, but the caltrops were too much for the raquetball administration."

"William's got to get the fire going, if he doesn't, the spoons will go hungry...he's got this...he's got this."

"Hmm. I love you."
"I love you, too."
"What time is pants?"
"...One o'clock."
"Hm...I have to...zzz..."

"There is just too much bacon...going to have to make bacon lamps."

(Long, angry groan) "I'm hot to trot."

"One brain bubble. Gotta fix. TV fix. Brain fix."