Bucking the system, the Kuj Tribe way

Brother and I are thinking this is a prime piece of living room furniture. So much so that we're considering reassembling his old bunk bed (upper decker only) my dad made for Brother when he was little, and buying a decent looking futon bed/couch thingy for under it.


Thirty-somethings (three of them), who have been spotted--more than once--outside in their stretchy clothes, living in a house with a bunk bed/futon combo in their living room. Outside the norm? Most definitely. Funky? Or just creepy? You decide.

Btw, we actually went to this store to check out the couch behind this contraption. When we attempted to take it down off the rack it was perched on, the arm on the side I was lifting popped off and clocked me in the jaw (it was upholstered and cushy). I had to lay down on another couch and wait for the laughing/crying jag to pass. We get the couch to where we can sit on it and mess with it (in the aisle, likely blocking fire routes). Brother flattens it out into a bed (it's one of those cheesy klik-klak things), proceeds to lay down across it and I watch as it tips to one side and nearly ejects him. The look on his face and the position (picture trying to push a cat into a toilet...limbs splayed): more laughing jag. And some drooling. And definite flood of tears. Never mind when Brother tried to vault himself up onto the top bunk and instead managed to crush his junk when he slammed into the front of it.

We've decided to blame all this store hijinks on the two of us working 10 hour days all this week. Brother+slap happy=destruction of property. Me+slap happy=fits of hysteric laughter. This has been proven in the past, such as the late night run through Milwaukee before the Indy car race. That is another story, however.

*****

The CVSC has a funny pics thread and this one has been in there for a while. But it's taken on a life of its own as of two days ago during our pre-dawn commute.


I had recently posted new funny pictures on the thread and you have to scroll down past the Gothopotamus shot to get to the new pics. I even dwelled on it for a while once again before going to the newest post. As previously stated, Brother and I have been commuting to work together. We work within a mile of each other and the 20 minutes together saves us gas, and my boss is gracious enough to allow me to adjust my schedule (and get overtime...never bad). I'm excessively groggy first thing in the morning, Brother is fairly quiet at that time too. As we ride up to Chippewa, he sighs and says quietly, "Gothopotamus." To which we both begin to chuckle softly. And it builds into laughter.

That night, as we are driving home, we're trying to figure out the gender of the leashed one. I argue that it's a dude. Brother, and later, Mostly Naked, both believe it to be a female. The unfortunate (yet hilarious) side effect is that now Brother and I have started to add "opotamus" to the end of nearly any word we speak. Which, much in the way of farts, makes me giggle audibly. Every time....opotamus.

*****

I nearly forgot our stop at Menards prior to the sofa bed debacle. Brother was in the market for 3 8-foot pieces of 2x4 lumber. He handed me one and took the other two. As we were walking to the cash register I'm carrying my piece under one arm, Brother the two over his shoulder. Like a comedy we are...just waiting to happen. I keep poking him in the rear with my piece. He keeps saying "Stop shoving your wood in my ass." Well, now I'm having fun. It's not often a girl gets to walk around carrying her very own wood. I say, "I'm putting my wood up on the conveyor belt." Brother says to the dazed young cashier, "My good man, ring up my wood." I say, "Yeah, ring up his sister's wood too." Dazed young cashier giggles and rings up our collective wood.

Lack of sleepopotamus, I tell you.

*****

Lastly, a few nights ago, we were waiting at Papa Murphy's for our Steak Gorgonzola pizza (note: Mostly Naked does not favor Gorgonzola cheese in large chunks...I nearly jumped out of the way as it appeared he was going to vomit the one bite he took; needless to say, the remainder of the pizza was ours). I watched an elderly man nearly fall over as he turned around and shifted his weight dramatically to avoid this hole in the flooropotamus.

Trapped in a small space with nowhere to run, it took all the fortitude I could summon to not laugh out loud at himopotamus. I merely turned to my brother and managed to whisper, "That man nearly fell in that hole." Brother said, "There's a blog post." Indeedopotamus.

I'm glad I'm out of thoughts for this post. My stomach hurts from laughing...more...again. Cheers!

...opotamus.