My husband was helping me with a Cosplay, and I couldn't remember the word, so I asked him for some "Shoe Ziplock."
I meant "velcro."

Some excerpts from my inspirational leadership last week (or, "What I say when I don't plan too much what to say"):

"Well, that's just tears under the spilled milk."

"Don't shoot yourself in the foot to spite your face."

I couldn't remember the game "Assassin's Creed," so I told my husband to play "Ninja Knight Who Hops Up Buildings."

Same thing.

I couldn't think of "Philip Morris," so I told my friend my conspiracy theory that the Anti-Smoking Campaign was being targeted by Wilson Phillips.

Hang on for one more smoke!

Trying to summarize the plot for "Argo" to a friend, and I couldn't remember the word "embassy." All I could come up with was "Ambassador house."

I just called "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade": "Legends of Indiana...The Hidden Temple."

Tyler: Paul McCartney was in the East Coast feed of "30 Rock," but West Coast got someone else.
Lauren: Let me guess. Art Garfunkel.
Tyler: Paul McCartney, not Paul Simon.
Lauren: Oh, yeah. As in Simon and Garfunkel.

In the theater, during the intermission of Miss Saigon, Tyler was talking to me about something that happened when he acted in Macbeth. I replied saying, "So, in Macbeth -- ooh, bad luck! I mean 'The Denmark Play.'"

(For not theater types, I meant "The Scottish Play." OR, maybe I just think Hamlet is bad luck. Ever think of that?)

Today, Tyler and I were talking about girlfriends from various movies, and I named Adrian, from "Rambo."

He very carefully tried to point out my mistake by saying, "Rambo?" To which I said, "Yes, Adrian from Rambo." Then he said, "Rambo." And I said, "YES, RAMBO! When he's shouting it on the stairs! Whatever, I haven't seen the movie."

Then he laughed, and I got it several minutes later. Boy movies...

Told my friend AunJuli over skype that there were too many cooks in the pot.

Bless her heart, she didn't even correct me.

Yesterday, I told my friend Melissa that you shouldn't kick a gift horse in the mouth.

I think it's still good advice.

I just told someone that "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" was written by Harry S Truman.

We can't stop in Washington DC! That's bat country!

Just called toothpaste "dijonaise." No idea.

I always mix up Stockard Channing and Channing Tatum.

While playing a coworker in chess, I decided to trash-talk him by taunting, "You're falling RIGHT into my trap, like a spider in a web." He did not seem threatened. (Also: I lost.)

Tonight, I told my friend earnestly not to put all his fish in one basket.

Today I mixed up John Lennon and John Denver. Come on! They both have shaggy hair and circle hippie glasses.

I got really confused when my guy-crazy cousin was going on and on about how cute Jessie Metcalfe was until I realized she wasn't talking about Laurie Metcalf. I'll still take an episode of Roseanne over Desperate Housewives.

Once I was out at dinner with my friend, and I told her if something didn't go right, I was going to get so mad, teapots would come out of my ears.

The other night at dinner, my boyfriend started talking about the movie "Shanghai Noon," and I exclaimed, "I love that Chris Tucker!"