Letting a blog go quietly into that dark night, well it’s kind of like breaking your diet for a gluttonous go at a big, juicy burger. The prickle of sesame seeds on the tongue, the mash of too much meat and cheese between the teeth—it’s at first satisfying, but ultimately disconcerting as it leaves that heavy place in the pit of your stomach.

The burger is noshed but not forgotten.

Perhaps the same could be said about this blog …

Post from: Hannihaus

Abandoning A Blog Is Such An Egregious Thing

Had they been run-of-the-mill parents the response would’ve been, omg! what the hell happened? is he ok? are you ok?

Instead our conversation went like this:

Dad: So I heard you hit your boyfriend with your car.

Me: No Daddy, I hit someone else.*

Dad: You didn’t hit Andrew?

Me: No I hit a stranger.

Dad: Oh … so how’s work been?

—-

*For the record, no strangers were (profoundly) harmed in the bumping of my car into said stranger’s ass. Apparently the man with the brass balls–who decided to stand between incoming and outgoing traffic lanes–also has buns of steel.

Post from: Hannihaus

Not So Dramatic Portrayal Of Actual Events–A Hannihaus Snippet

Yes, apparently when practicing at the driving range, it is highly advisable that the golf club be used for hitting golf balls, instead of –say – the ground.

It makes sense really. I mean, the irons, they’re called golf clubs, not ground clubs or divot sticks ….

Except, of course, when your name happens to be Hänni.

If your name is Hänni, any club that makes its way into your hot, little hands, can’t be called anything BUT a divot stick.

Trust me (and my repetitive -golf-induced- strain injury) on this one.

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Anyone else injured themselves slamming a club into the ground 15+ times in an hour? No? Just me? Ok. Well I’m sure you all have had some kind of misadventure this week. It’s Friday, so why don’t you share your truth? C-O-M-M-E-N-T and come clean.

Post from: Hannihaus

The Truth

Now why would anyone say that about Mimi?

My only guess is it has something to do with this unfortunate picture that’s been circulating on the Internet:

Fake you say?

Agreed. That last pic was obviously *not* Mariah Carey. It was missing a critical component:

Now that’s the Pillsbury Doughboy Mariah Carey!

For more Mariah Madness, (and photoshopping that doesn’t suck) click here.
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In (seemingly) related news my glasses are M.I.A. I bet Mariah ate them.

Let it be known, that from now on when something goes missing, the reasonable explanation will be that Mariah has placed these items, like so many innumerable amounts of pork rinds, in her eager pie hole.

My lunch – my kittinks – my organic raisins, nothing is sacred. Mariah will eat them all.
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In other news, Season 5 of American Idol starts tonight and I’m so totally stoked. I think I’ll christen the occassion by playing a drinking game wherein I toss one back any time Paula pouts, Randy says “dawg,” and/or Simon rolls his smarmy little eyeballs.

Something tells me I’ll be drunk and vomiting by the first commercial break.

Post from: Hannihaus

Tell Us Something We Didn’t Already Know

Now, every time I hear a teen girl lamenting her chastity, I say “Cheer up, being a virgin is cool. Besides, I’m sure it’s not you. It’s probably just that your boyfriend of two years, the guy you’d consider spending eternity with, well, he likely prefers steak to tuna, because he is gay – really.”

At least that was my experience.
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Dear hannihaus readers, have you dated a boy who likes boys? Share your truth at Hänni’s Friday confessional. C-O-M-M-E-N-T and come clean.

Post from: Hannihaus

The Truth

Post from: Hannihaus

The Truth

Two things:

1. Wash (if applicable)

OR

2. Close your browser already, pervert!
(… That one’s subtle folks).
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Help our designer – Vote For Chris

This is the last day to vote for Chris’s t-shirt on Threadless. Vote 5 for Chris b/c a vote for Chris is a vote for your personal protection. Merci Beacoup.

Post from: Hannihaus

We Interupt Our Vacation Time To Let You Know

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Dear hannihaus readers, care to share your truth? C-O-M-M-E-N-T and come clean.

Post from: Hannihaus

The Truth

So let me show you how it’s done.

The Truth

I acted all nice when you sweetly inquired if my treadmill was broken, but the truth is, inside I was mad, mad, mad. I’m fairly sure, before I entered the gym, that you tried “my treadmill”, found it wasn’t working, and picked the other one for your morning speed walk. Then, when I came in, looking like a dolt in my booty shorts and pink sweatbands, you let me fiddle helplessly with the broken treadmill for a few minutes before addressing me, pretending not to know that it wouldn’t start up. I’m fairly certain you did this, because I did the very same thing to some other girl last week.

Post from: Hannihaus

The Truth Unveiled

“diapered bride”.

That’s just nasty.

But you know what’s not nasty and actually very cool? My secret. And guess what? I just might reveal it. Very soon. Til next!

Post from: Hannihaus

This One’s The Worst