Charlie’s brain went on holiday briefly the other evening and she asked me this
“Are Flamingos birds? I’m just checking in case they were mammals or something.”
I’ll give her a break as she’s been ill and what with the post wedding blues and all, although I may have to keep her away from the cats for a few days.
Charlie’s latest rant
“I’m gonna have to put up with you for like 50 years! You’re gonna have to stop being a prick! I’m gonna get that put in my vows.”
Awww thanks babe!
Me and Charlie were watching/listening to this Youtube video of some of Karl Pilkington’s stupidest moments last night, and when we got to the part about the infinite typewriting monkeys; Charlie decided to transmogrify into a female Karl and start saying how she didn’t think they could knock up the complete works of Shakespeare.
I decided to try and explain that as there are a finite number of characters used in a book, and therefore a finite number of combinations in which those characters can be placed; it’s a mathematical certainty that given an infinite number of monkeys, at least one would hit the correct combination to produce Shakespeare. Charlie responded with this:
“But what if he slips and lands on the ‘Z’?”
Once I had regained my breath and wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes I decided to try a different tack and explained that it didn’t have to be infinite monkeys, but that it could be a single monkey with an infinite amount of time, and somewhere in there you would get the correct character combination. Charlie again responded:
“Aww, that poor monkey, he’d be really tired!”
When someone is pitying a hypothetically immortal monkey its definitely time to give up.
I thought this picture would be funny, but now I’m just disturbed.
As I was brushing my teeth this morning, Charlie’s voice drifted up the stairs:
“You cats are such pricks sometimes!”
Needless to say the mirror got covered in toothpaste.
Last night after reading a book about a particularly devious abusive husband Charlie said this to me.
“I’m glad you don’t use your intelligence for evil.”
Thanks babe, it’s good to have my choice to not be a supervillian reaffirmed. Although I think you may be overestimating my genius.
“Sixteen Twenty Six!”
“You’re either angry or you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sixteen Twenty Six! That’s when the train is arriving on Sunday, you need to pick me up from the station.”
“You seem to think its odd that I didn’t immediately get that. You basically just shouted a number in the middle of eating a mince pie and I’m supposed to know what the hell you mean.”
“You could have at least given me a fighting chance by saying twenty-five past four. At least then I wouldn’t think you were yelling random years out.”
Charlie also seems to believe that words such as “he” and “she” are magic, and that if she changes the person she’s referring to when using one of these words, you will not need to be informed and will know psychically.
Be careful not to annoy Charlie or she might say to you what she said to me last night.
“I’m going to thump you in the heart”
I surprised myself with my ability to annunciate whilst sleeping with this one!
“They spell really well.”
Hear it here.
Here’s a good one, not only is it weird, it’s complete gibberish.
A while back Charlie and I were discussing birthdays and she mentioned that unfortunately she shared her birthday with Adolf Hitler. Interested I looked up if there was any Celebrity/Fascist Dictator I shared a birthday with and the search came up with Marvin Gaye. When I told Charlie she responded with this:
“I’d rather be Marvin Gaye than Hitler”
No shit, babe.