So That Happened

This week on So That Happened:

"I'm just trying to be copacetic with my digestive system." -My mother

Michael: I'm just sayin'. Maybe the apostrophe is only 73 years old.
Me: Michael, Shakespeare and the Puritans used apostrophes.
Stuart: Man, I don't think you're going to win this argument.

Michael: This is cooked perfectly, Mom. The seasoning is delicious.
Mom: It came seasoned.
Michael: Oh, well then the seasoning isn't delicious.

The other day I was riding the bus, minding my own business, listening to Wait Wait in the midst of a random group of high schoolers. This last detail may seem needless, but believe me--it contributed a great deal to my imminent shame. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. So I was on the bus, Wait Wait buzzing happily in my ear, and host Peter Sagal mentioned that in California it is no longer legal to trademark new names for marijuana. The following conversation took place between him and Adam Felber, a panelist:

Peter: The patent office was just overrun with confused potheads submitting patents not for their pot but for ideas they'd had while using it. For example, patent for method of just, like, thinking of a food, and then you can taste the food and all you had to do was think of the food.
Adam: TM.
Peter: And then there was this idea that just came in, it was in a patent form: Did anyone ever patent getting a patent, 'cause then anytime somebody gets a patent you get money? But then when I get the patent for patenting patents, do I just have to give the money to myself? Whoa.
Adam: I'm here to patent toes.
Peter: Look at them.
Adam: Look at those. Everybody has 'em. I own 'em.

When Adam Felber interjected, "I'm here to patent toes," I LOST it. On the bus, in the middle of a group of judgmental teens. As Wait Wait is my designated bus soundtrack, I'm used to handling my laughter by converting it into deep exhales and what I call "severe smiles." Not this time. No, this time I straight-out cackled. I'm sure it didn't help that right after the "incident" I immediately turned my head toward the window, as if to accuse the shrubbery of an inappropriate outburst. At this point I should just own it. But seriously: "I'm here to patent toes." Where do these people come up with this stuff?

My brother and his best friend/business partner Pasha have been spending a lot of time at night downstairs in their winery, prepping the new room. They installed one door, are in the process of installing another, and have put in a handful of new light fixtures which requires them to...let's just say finesse the electric cords. I always have a hard time waking up on Mondays to face the day, so I as I was falling asleep last Sunday I made a mental list of all the great things I would accomplish the next day. At the top of my list, where it is every week, was House (8pm on Fox). I woke up on Monday, took a shower, had a long day at work, came home, ate dinner, and sat down on the couch to watch my favorite show. About halfway through, in the middle of an intense scene, the power went out. Downstairs in the kitchen I heard Pasha yell to Michael in the basement, "You blew the kitchen!" I sat in the dark for a moment, hoping that if I was really really still the lights and TV would come back on. They didn't. I got up and went downstairs. Pasha took one look at my face (which I'm sure was NOT pretty) and shouted, "You blew the upstairs too!"

Update:
Because I am notorious for writing down everything I hear, my mother wants to buy me a shirt that says either "Watch your mouth," "That's going on my blog," or my personal favorite, "I heard that!"