Bevvy G

Bev is somewhat of a “wellness coordinator” at work and this means that I instituted a book club this year. I’ve never participated in a book club before, so in true Bev fashion, I went from 0-60, dove in headfirst, and started hosting one. Well, organizing one. I can’t say I hosted it because I live in a small apartment that’s not very conducive to hosting large parties (when I write my best-selling book, the first thing I will buy will be a house made for entertaining, guys. Don’t worry, there will be buffalo chicken dip. Obviously).

So, basically, I choose the book and send out all the information, but my gracious coworker lets us have the parties at her house. Her house that is all the way across town from my house. And, I know you’ll find this really hard to believe, but I like to have a few cocktails at book club, so I sometimes arrange for my friends/coworkers who live in my neighborhood to pick me up before work so that I can Uber home from weekday happy hour book club and have my car to get back to work in the morning. You guys do this too, right? I mean, book clubs are like the speakeasies of parties, right? Nothing to see here, officer.

ANYWAY, after one particular book club, I was getting ready to call my Uber, and my coworker (and more importantly, good friend) Lara offered to give me a ride home. I had gotten crazy and mixed up my party fare for this particular event and brought some Reuben dip instead of the BCN- I mean BCD (you really need to read last week’s Sunday Punday to get that reference). This cheesy and cream cheesy dip was also a big hit, so the Crockpot was empty and I threw it in the back of Lara’s Jeep and we were off.

Well, a ride across town + one slightly inebriated passenger = forgotten Crockpot of Reuben dip remnants in the backseat of Lara’s Jeep. This is no biggie because we work together, so I just grabbed the Crockpot the next day. Her car may or may not have smelled of sauerkraut and Swiss the next morning, but I think she forgave me.

Mostly because this Venmo exchange went down. (I tossed her some money for the ride home, but her payment really turned out to be this whole thing)

And now I want Reuben dip.

-Beverly “I Don’t Know Why Reuben is Always Capitalized and I’m Too Lazy to Find Out” Goldenstein

So, one of my blog rules is to not talk about poop, and yesterday’s post brought me dangerously close to a line I don’t want to cross, but I feel like I need to follow up with these. Especially in these dark times. I’ll keep it short and sweet and let y’all fill in the blanks…

So, I think a lot of people who speak the English language are lacking one of its most important vocabulary words. I’m not going to say I coined or created it, but I will say I’ve never heard anyone use it before I did… and it gained poopularity quickly amongst the crowds with which I’ve used it.

Anyway, like I said, I don’t want to give details or anything, but I do want to drop this truth bomb on you and let you be sure to work this wondrous word into your vocabulary as you see fit.

The word?

shituation

I mean, it’s not a word that is used daily, or even often, but when you need it, you need it, ya heard?

Your phone might even start auto-correcting it to all caps. At least that’s what I heard.

-Beverly “You (Probably) Heard It Here First” Goldenstein

Please, oh, please carefully read the caption on this Instagram photo

I don’t know if I’m a 7th grade boy or what, but this makes me cry-laugh. Like, this poor man was just tryna get that Fresh Cut Friday look goin’ on. And is now just roaming around the world with his photo attached to this caption from his barber. 

I can’t.

I just can’t.

But I also can’t… talk too much shit because remember this? It really happened.

-Beverly “Working on Gaining that Online Poopularity” Goldenstein

Oh, your uncles don’t drink cheap tequila and Coke Zero? (Like, together) And send you Snapchats of said concoction in the middle of the day?

Oh.

-Beverly “I Get Goosebumps Looking at This Picture” Goldenstein

I saved this headline from 2015, which means this woman would be nearly 105 years old now. I have no doubt she survived the ‘Rona.

-Beverly “Not All Heroes Wear Capes” Goldenstein

Often times when I go to a party (remember parties?) or bring something for a work potluck (remember work potlucks? [less fondly than we remember parties, amIrite?]), I bring buffalo chicken dip. It’s fast, it’s easy, and (most importantly) people love it.

A few months ago (you know, when we were going to offices and such), I brought some buffalo chicken dip to a work potluck lunch. It was one of the first things gone as usual, and I didn’t think much of it as I carried on with my day.

Carried on with my day, until I was chatting with three other coworkers in one girl’s office and I was – very animatedly – telling a story, looked down when my arms were both far out to the sides, and saw a little speck of buffalo chicken dip directly on the right nipple of my lightweight gray sweater.

And you can bet your sweet ass I made all three of those coworkers change my name in their phones from Bev to BCN or… Buffalo Chicken Nip.

Happy Punday, y’all.

-Beverly “The PUNisher” Goldenstein

I know I told you I don’t have a Spot Sue Saturday post for you, and this is still, disappointingly, true.

I do, however, have a funny Sue story to share with you- one I hadn’t heard until recently. In the midst of all this crazy quarantine business, I recently tried out press-on nails. Long ones… well, long for me. In the midst of a bit of an identity crisis, I FaceTimed ol’ cousin (in-law) Keith to talk me down from the “Do I look like a drag queen?” ledge. Keith happened to be with Bessie, and they both assured me that the nails weren’t bad and that I’d get used to them. (I have.)

But after discussing nails and joking that I hoped my press-ons didn’t fly off into the Chrissy Teigen banana bread I planned to bake the next day, Bessie remembered a joyful Sue tidbit.

Basically, a few Easters ago, Aunt Sue was cutting a dessert of some sort and putting it onto plates for the family (it was Aunt Sue’s side of the family so I wasn’t there). A few minutes after dessert was served, Sue’s brother-in-law, Kent, made a curious face that got the attention of those at the table.

Because there was a fingernail sitting atop his dessert.

And it wasn’t his.

And I think you know whose it was.

OPI Bubble Bath and all.

I’m not sure how a full nail pops off (I think Sue gets dip nails) but apparently, one did without anyone noticing through the slicing or serving of dessert.

Classic Sue. Kind of like the time she chipped her tooth over a holiday weekend and couldn’t get in to an emergency dentist. She’s walking content.

Happy Easter, Kent!

-Beverly “Do These Nails Make Me Look Like I Tucked A Dick?” Goldenstein

P.S.- Other Sue Story content can be found here. And here. 

I don’t currently have any Spot Sue Saturday posts for you but I can do you one (maybe?) better.

As you know, Uncle Bart is an avid Snapchatter (which is why you all get to enjoy Spot Sue Saturdays). What you might not know is that Bart doesn’t always/only Snapchat pictures and videos of Aunt Sue drinking beer doing various things.

Oh no, his Snap content is as diverse and varied as Snap content can be! And I’ve been hoarding it all for you and saving it for a global pandemic where we’re all imprisoned in our homes rainy day.

And, it seems that rainy day has arriveth. That’s not a word but I kinda think it should be.

Yes, there’s a man whose nickname is Hot Nuts. Regrettably, I haven’t mentioned Hot Nuts before and I’m really sorry to tell you that he has recently passed away so I don’t want to tell many stories about him.

But really, you’ve seen all you need to see. His nickname is Hot Nuts and he sells cars on the side of the street by Bohman’s house.

-Beverly “Uncle Bart’s Favorite Niece” Goldenstein

Willie Nelson: The Michael Jackson of country music?

-Beverly “16? Really, Bro?” Goldenstein

Guys, I mean… I don’t wanna say I called this, but… I called this.

Check out this post. Specifically, bullet point a and footnote 1. 

-Beverly “The Tipsy Gypsy” Goldenstein