Be Wary of Pluralization

He Who Shall Not Be Named (through the wall): Hey, Jo Bob, got a sec?

Emerson (sarcastically): No, I have no secs.

Méli: You have no sex?


And then we proceeded to die laughing. A ghost is typing this. I hope you're happy.

-Sexless Emerson

North of Pastorville, south of Shamantown

He Who Shall Not Be Named keeps on talking about a place called "West Minister".  There is a strong possibility that he means to say "Westminster" (as in, we're 100% sure of it).

Anyhow, we were wondering...if the West Minister gets his own city, where does the East Minister live?

And are either of them wicked?

Why we love us

Everyone needs a reason to like themselves, right?  Well, this is one of the many reasons why Emerson and I think we are just the coolest people on the planet:


M: "So I went in and said 'Hi' to Scissors."

E: "Oh, yeah?  What'd he say?"

M: "Eh, just asked how I was doing.  I told him I was awesome because of the lunch in my tummy."

E: "I'm sure he liked that."

M:  "Of course he did.  He asked how I was and I said, 'Oh, man, soooo good, because I just ate this steak quesadilla, and it was like, you know, Chuck Norris and a magical unicorn got together and decided to make lunch, only they made too much, so they gave me their leftovers and now...now life is just fantastic.'"

E: *she laughs*

M: "And then Scissors said that he hopes Chuck didn't make the quesadilla out of the unicorn.  Which makes me wonder, what do you think a unicorn steak quesadilla would taste like?"

E:  "Rainbows.  Duh."




*Please note that no magical unicorns were harmed in the making of Méli's steak quesadilla, but if they were, they tasted like glorious rainbows and deserve monuments erected in the honor of their tasty qualities.

We Don't Know Either

What we really, really want to write right now:

"Hey, fat pants! Move your bum and buy this so you will be beautiful.  We have no idea what it is and no one will find out for us, but that's OK.   It's a mystery purchase that will make you as pretty as an abalone shell on the non-polluted beaches of the Caribbean."


What we will most likely actually write:

"Feeling glum in those old pants?  Get an excuse to buy some new skinny jeans blah blah blah blah..."

Lavender and Vanilla

Helga just walked into our office, grabbed our room spray, ran out and sprayed the rest of the office with it. She, apparently, had been craving the smell of it all night. When she returned, we asked if the entire office was going to smell like that spray now and she started giggling.

Then she snorted and walked out. "On that note...."

Viva la  room spray.

A Day To Remember

Today is a day to remember.

Today...sigh.  Today all we did was create this blog.

Sometimes the life of a writer is so hard, we just don't know how we survive. 

Here's what to expect from us in the future:

1. Craziness (lots and lots of craziness)
2. Hilarious typos (from Emerson)
3. Awkward coworker and client stories (which all actually happened, we promise)
4. As many parentheticals as we can come up with (fer totes)
5. The best things we write but can't publish (because sometimes we just can't help it)



And so we begin.  Méli and Emerson welcome you to The Hamster Wheel.






Mwahahahahaha.