Thursday, May 10, 2012

hilarious. maybe.

 Sometimes I think that I'm basically the funniest person alive. But then I worry that I'm the only one that gets my jokes and appreciates them fully. It's a conundrum. Here are a few examples from yesterday.

After the gym and dinner, I threw on a t-shirt to go mow the lawn. Then I got chilly, so I threw on a fleece as well. 

As I passed by the mirror, I thought to myself, "Wow. Way to wear fifty shades of gray, Erika."

And then I almost had to die laughing. FIFTY SHADES OF GRAY??!!

OK, OK. So I haven't read it. But it's come up in conversation (both real life and bloggy) more than a few times lately, so obviously the title is lurking there, somewhere in my subconscious, just waiting to jump out and be an awesome joke. In my...head. That no one but me could appreciate. But now you can, too! So not all is lost.

At any rate, I'm not sure that that fine ensemble, multi-shaded gray though it may be, is the kind of thing the characters in those books are wearing. If, in fact, they're wearing clothes at all... ;) But it was perfect for what I was about to be doing, which was mowing the lawn.

And as I mowed, going around the backyard in an oval pattern, I found myself going faster and faster-- let's see how fast this puppy can go!!!! WOOOOO!!!! Pedal to the metal, girrrrrl!!!! And then I had a quick moment of revelation, and the revelation was this: You are making a race car face. Like the one little boys make when they're racing their matchbox cars. Or like when people ride in go-karts...actually going fast. You are substantially less mature than every other 29-year-old woman cutting their grass.

But I was also probably having more fun, so...whatever. This whole scenario also struck me as hilarious. But it also made me self-conscious, so I had to stop racing my lawnmower. Ugh. Lame.

PS. But before I became self-conscious about the lawnmower racing, it had occurred to me that I should ask my next-door-neighbor, who was also cutting her grass (the girl who gave me the shorts, remember?), if she wanted to race. Wouldn't that be AWESOME?!! Drag racing our lawnmowers? OK, next time we're both out there I'm totally going to maybe do it. If our husbands aren't out there. Because they might make fun. Oh, and also the elderly couple across the street who watch us 24/7. They will probably tell the rest of the neighborhood about it...but who cares, it would be so fun!! OK, but be honest-- if your neighbor asked you to race lawnmowers, would you? Would you say "no," even though secretly deep in your heart you wanted to? I need to see how this thing might play out...


  1. Our neighbor is older than us, and he always puts on a show for my children if we are outside.

    He makes crazy loops and whoops and hollers... People who are super serious all.the.time age faster than those of us with a sense of humor. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.

    But yes, I'd race ya!

  2. If this happens, I'm thinking maybe you need to make sure your husbands ARE home... so they can take you to the ER after you both crash your lawnmowers because you were racing on them.

  3. Okay, the 50 Shades of Grey reference totally had me laughing! I could see myself doing that exact thing! Also, my husband just started letting me mow the yard (he's very particular about the lines and apparently I don't get them straight enough) and I think it's SO fun! I just zoom around and around until I hit something (like last week and not on purpose of course). So funny!

  4. hahaha cracking up at you. You're not crazy!!

  5. You = funniest human alive. "Fifty Shades of Grey". AWESOME. I'm like number 50 on the library list waiting for it. We can be ashamed of ourselves together, after we read it.

  6. Hahahaha! I always think your blog jokes are funny and I bet your real life jokes are even better (although I do find myself wondering...'is it possible to be funnier than Erika is on her blog?!'). Seriously, sometimes I read excerpts from your posts to my husband and I am giggling so uncontrollably that he has to ask me to read them again so he can understand me.


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