Sunday, February 27, 2011

Lift my spirits.

This is a post about the eternal joys of life and an inspirational story that involves the healing power of friendship and the love between pets and their owners. If there is one thing I've learned in life, it's to always be positive, never say anything negative, always support a dream, and tomorrow will be better. These are ideals I try to live my life by.



(Cough kind of sounds like hehe)



If I lived my life like this I'd jump nose first off a cliff, how boring would THAT life be. It'd be like eating plain oatmeal for every meal, wearing only beige and living in a world with an always slightly overcast sky. Like mac with out cheese! Cookies without chocolate chips! Days without naps! Cliches without eye rolls!

What I really want to say is, I would like some balloons. It's cold and rainy out and everything's grey. I would like some bright colored balloons to look at, and then when no ones expecting it ( next door neighbor) to POP THEM!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Why the kids on "Toddlers and Tiara's" have it coming.

To some people, this might sound a little harsh. I understand, I used to be of the same school of thought (my comma button is broke, but not there, what the fudge? Why can't I put one at the beginning of this tangent?) that those poor little girls (and sometimes little boys) were being pimped by their parents for attention and "glory".

I sat and watched and wondered how NO ONE from the Department of Social Services had never seen/heard of this show. Why had these kids not been taken from their unstable, abusive parents. They SPRAY TAN their babies and wax the eyebrows of 4 year olds!!! I didn't get my eyebrows waxed until I was like 15 (I'm now 23 and I still break into a cold sweat when I sit down in the chair, take of my glasses, and brace to have the hair ripped by the roots out of my FACE).

They force children to sit FOR HOURS ( as sedentary as I am now, I'm pretty sure if I sat still as a child for more than five minutes, the world would have imploded and I took the worlds safety VERY seriously) in a stuffy stale hotel room breathing in hairspray toxins, while they have extensions sown into their heads and have their make up caked on and eyelashes glued in place. Then they're expected not to move for another hour or 12 while they wait to go on stage and walk like they don't have any joints (because they don't anymore! They've sat still so long they've atrophied).

And I thought all this and wondered how anyone could do this to a poor innocent child, a child who hadn't been on this plant long enough to doing anything horrible enough to be punished this way. That was, until I turned on TLC an hour early and watched "One Born Every Minute" a show about women giving birth.

The horrors, THE HORROS, I miss the days I had trouble falling asleep because of imaginary would be murderers. This is real, this is real what these children did to their mothers.

They ripped their mothers to shreds, SHREDS ripped them apart from the inside out, and the gore, so much gore, they look like little shriveled demons slithering around on their mother's chest.

And this is after hours of causing their mothers EXCRUCIATING pain.

I get it, I totally get it now, it's payback. It's payback and I approve. 

New post under Guest babblers.

My next post.....why the toddlers on "Toddlers and Tiaras" had it coming. 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Performance Interview

Myself(Boss): I suppose you know why I called you in here.

Me(Employee): Because I'm an existentialist so it's not weird at all that I'm talking to myself.

Myself: This is no time to get cute (STUPID OLD NAVY commercial), your performance as of late has been lack luster to say the least, disappointing, unfunny, unimaginative, irregular, and late to say the most.

Me:  Does that mean you can now only make sentences between 2 and 5 words now?

Myself: If you do not take this seriously, you will force us to find a replacement, and that's not going to be easy as a change in personality is usually brought on by a psychotic break or the use of chemical alternatives (Booze, drugs, excessive amounts of sugar), and both are hard to arrange so close to the holidays (Mashramani-Republic Day?).

Me: Yes, ma'am

Myself: Good, now let's start at the beginning, why did you start a blog?

Me: To make money at a job where I didn't have to wear pants, get off the couch, or feel weird for eating a whole bag of chips for lunch. Also, I couldn't find a job, with or without pants, so I decided to make one (I've never been on an interview pantless).

Myself: We feel (how many personalities do I have, and how many are talking about me behind my back?!) that lately you have been unhappy in your work, based on the quality of your work. Your piece on Old Navy? Very uninspired, did you let a cat walk on your keyboard, add some punctuation and call it a post? 

Me:Um, no, I've had a lot of school work and you know the economy, interest rate fluctuation and the housing bubble. Bird flu (has not been a relevant reference in like 8 years)  and um global warming, I also had a hang nail, which is very hard for typing.

Myself: Angry look, not at all impressed with the concrete evidence I have presented.

Me: I also think I may have developed Lupus.

Myself: Hans Christian Anderson was dislyexic. Lord Byron had Epilpsey

Me: Lord Byron had opium.

Myself:  Do you have dyslexia or opium?

Me:Not as diagnosed by a licensed doctor. 

Myself: Henry Winkler is dyslexic and look at his fine body of work.


Myself: Please note that we have already added several other categories to your blog and have been making arrangements for "guest writers", nothing is permanent yet, but we are looking to bring some fresh new ideas to the table. Bring back some the readers you've lost.

Me: You can't do that! I AM random. This was my idea?

Myself: Was it really?

Me: UM YES, you try to take me off this and I'll get on anti-schizophrenic medicine!

Myself: You're not schizophrenic, you're dreaming, you've just been feeling guilty about your inability to communicate and your lack luster revenue stream. Also, you ate pepperoni before bed and finsihed that really distrubing book for Modern British Literature, hence the Lord Byron reference. Didn't you notice the giant floating pink elephant?

Me:Yeah, but I'm usually the cause of the Elephant so I didn't want to point it out (Bada bing!).

Myself: Also, tell hello to John Krasinski on your way out.

Me: I thought I recognized your receptionist.

And now I've woken up. Hope it's not to weird for everyone.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

CUTE (barf)

I HATE those new Old Navy ads with the Bollywood singing and the self centered little chit that is really involved with herself. (At least everyone knew those plastic people ad's were ridiculous, they were supposed to be.)

I don't know how she could possibly believe the world revolves around her like that (when it obviously revolves around me because I have a blog and 1500 readers (O yeah, i went there, I may only have 11 followers but I have a lot of readers)).

IT'S NOT CUTE TO BE narcissistic like that, it's disgusting. At least pretend to have modeisty. That whole commercial makes me sick to my stomach, uuuuuuuuggggggggggggggggg, I need to go lay down. 

Monday, February 21, 2011

Executive Decision

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is now spring. I don't care that it is February and the forecast is calling for possible snow later in the week, it is now spring. I will be wearing T-shirts (under heavily lined jackets) and flip flops (around the apartment with the heat on) and no one can stop me.

I will be planting my spring flowers (I colored a picture and taped it above a vase) soon and will begin cultivating my summer vegetables ( I'll buy a tomato at Harris Teeter and pretend it's home grown, most vegetables stay in my refrigerator long enough that they start growing other plants and instead of deciding I'm a lazy individually I have decided I'm an urban farmer).

O how I've missed the the beautiful cheerful chirping of birds in the morning (Why don't they just STAY south?! Why go back and forth? I mean they can stay if they can be quiet in the morning then they are MORE than welcome to my tree. Other wise I'm gonna start quacking at them at 11 o'clock at night and see how they like it.)

This post is a little (A LOT) late because I spent the vast majority of the afternoon sun worshiping in the park (I watched a National Geographic documentary on the Virgin Islands, while wrapped up in a blanket, praying the base board heaters would HEAT, on my couch).

My skin is absolutely glowing from a slight early spring tan and I can already  feel the vitamin D lifting my spirits (glowing from spiked Sunny-D)

Well, I must be off, the neighbors and I are planning a late evening cookout and I must light the bug-repellent Tiki Torches ( It's already dark so I have to turn on every light in the house, look for extra blankets and stick the frozen meals in the microwave to heat up).

Happy Spring ( I hate this place).

Sunday, February 20, 2011


I have babbler's block. While I enjoy stacking blocks and knocking them down, I believe when someone has writer (babbler's) block, it's only one block. I'm not sure of the size of the block, can you have a little babbler's block or a big babbler's block? Does it depend on the size of the project?

If I lose my train of thought on a post-it note, is the block the size of the post-it note (but you know, 3D and cube like)? If was trying to write a novel ( I swear I'm not, the library of congress would die a little if it had to hold my train of thought) would the block be the size of  a milk crate? Can I sell it to a frat house as a chair for $10?

If I was trying to draft a piece of important legislation, what would it look like? Would it be blue or red? Hopefully it would be red, WHITE, and blue, but maybe it's polka dotted or animal print (it would make since if it was an environmental/animal rights piece of legislation). Hey, Shrek's on!

If you're writing a screen play, is it a virtual block? Can you even touch it?

If someone was writing a new novel that would last the age's, something prolific, something that captures and captivates the human spirit, like Snooki's book "Sure Thing" (BAHAHAHHAHAHHA, just kidding, the library of congress cried for a month when they found out about that one) would the block be big enough to block out the sun? (This is different from just a normal novel, while fantastic, not everything written is as important as something else).

If a bunch of people with blocks got together, could you build things? Or if you're a loner, could use it to balance a table? As a paper weight?

Here's my last question that is either really really smart and I'm proud of myself, or is so dumb I made the cast of "Jersey Shore" ( man i'm all about the "Jersey shore" reference today, maybe the TV has rotted my brain and that's why I can't accomplish anything) shake their heads in disappointment.

Can you write on a Writer's (babbler's) block?

Friday, February 18, 2011

When tone is stuck in caps.

I have the unfortunate problem, of a phone with a caps button that routinely gets stuck in caps, so I have a hard time conveying an appropriate response about 35% of the time, enough to be extremely annoying but not often enough for people to remember that my caps gets stuck. The following are times it has been unfortunate that the caps was stuck and I forgot to add at the end that "caps is stuck, sorry".

Conversation one:
Friend's text: Want to go get mexican for lunch?


Friend's text:  Have a traumatic taco experience?


Friend's text: I'm not trying to force anything on you, are you okay?

My Response: FINE (cause I never remember to put I'm in front of a condition, when the world revolves you and people can read your mind, I's redundant (and repetitive!) to use such words).

Conversation two:
Friend's text:  I need to do laundry


Friend's text: not, that much, geez, have you been over lately?


Friend's text: I never implied that you didnt?




Conversation three:

Friend's Text: hey

My Response:  HEY

Friend's text:  what are you to?


Ok, i give up on this post. During this process which has now spanned somewhat like FOUR HOURS I have been fighting with technology. Apparently they like to stick up for each other, I have inadvertently changed the screen size from minuscule to Eye chart four times, each time taking me about  15 minutes to try and figure out how to fix it then 10 minutes working up the nerve to ask neighbor how to fix it (yes, I had  to ask EVERY time). I have partially deleted the text three times and wholly deleted it twice.  Let the battery run out once.

For a time I wrote in all caps, so that it made no sense, wrote half in bold, and started a new paragraph in the middle of another already finished paragraph. I also have broken the highlight function. I can't turn it off and I spend an hour playing a game of tag with the cursor.

Also, every single letter "R" on the SCREEN, not just the space I'm typing THE WHOLE SCReen, is highlighted in yellow. Except for that last one, and now I've broken the caps and shift buttons. I give up. Have a happy weekend, I'll be rocking in a corner, ranting about how the light switch is out to get me.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Why Hello,

Why hello, rogue chunk of hair, we meet again. It seems like it was only last week you wouldn't blend in with the other hairs and behave as you have been painstakingly taught. As a matter of fact, it shows in your file that it was last week.

You have been trained since an early age to behave, you know what happens to hair that disobeys, that's right, you stand up Alfa like in the air, proud and smug while I end up cranky and frustrated .

Today nether heat nor cold, nor threat by scissor, could make you get back in line. What caused this sudden and unexpected rebellion? You were fine last night when I last saw you before bed, was it all an act? A clever rouse to get my guard down?

Have I not been good to you? Was the constant enriching conditioning to much for you? Or not enough? Was it that I spoiled you with my sacrifices of letting you air dry instead of drying you out and making you brittle with a blow drier?

Are you mad because I haven't died you in over three months? Do you not like "the natural" look? I can change, if you'll spot me $60.

Are you mocking me for using to many exclamation points in my writing? Because sometimes I get lazy and instead of showing enthusiasm through vocabulary ad beautiful verse, I use punctuation, it's my fundamental right as a babbler.And I like the way they look on the screen, as long as they're not coupled with all caps and/or bold it makes a page look happy (other wise it's loud and mean and I don't want to read it).

I promise to cut back on exclamation points if you promise to lay back down, I'll even let you do it in privacy,  while I sleep. I will also cut back on side notes in parenthesis as I would hate to see what you would do to show your displeasure that literary device.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Stupid Small Cars in Parking Spaces

You are a jerk. I don't like you and your tiny automobile that you hid in a full parking lot behind a slightly larger car. That's sick you know that, right? Don't make me all excited that I found a spot, and have already started to turn, when I come bumper to bumper with your stupid little mushroom car.  Sometimes you even make me speed up a little so I can snag AN ALREADY TAKEN SPOT before someone else gets there. Then I'm embarrassed and people think I'm drunk driving. I am not. It's all your fault.

I would like to petition for a law that says if you drive a clown car you MUST park at the outside edge of the space. Stop toying with my emotions. I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, I'm feed up, I'm just gonna start parking in the space behind you. Take that. I don't care if I stick halfway out the spot. If you're not gonna use the whole space I'll use the part that's left, hope you don't have to go anywhere.

Ok, I'm not going to do that, mostly because getting towed is even worse and if I was going to get towed for a parking space, I would just go ahead and drive into the place I was trying to go to.

And, random point, this is America (pronounced in a hick like accent (MER-KA-UH) since when did we start buying appropriately sized vehicles? How else are we supposed to display dominance and superiority on the road? Really, your answer is "when gas started being $3 a gallon"? PISHHHHHHHHHHH, the America (MER-KA-UH!) I know and love would put it on a credit card and worry about it later. PRIORITIES PEOPLE! How are you going to compete up with the Jones if they can't see your big honking shiny new gas guzzler?

What will the rest of world think of us when start showing responsibility for the environment, we're just asking to be mocked and taken advantage of.

And all this could have been avoided if those petite little hot wheels cars would just park at the back of the spot!!!

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy National Ulcer Day!!!!!

Today in history,on this date, in (Caution: babbling is at the end of this post, with small tangents in between):

1076 – Pope Gregory VII excommunicates Henry IV, Holy Roman Emperor (Oh Henry....tisk tisk)

1556 – Thomas Cranmer is declared a heretic (Not like declaring thumb war) 

1778 – The United States Flag is formally recognized by a foreign naval vessel for the first time, when French Admiral Toussaint-Guillaume Picquet de la Motte rendered a nine gun salute to USS Ranger, commanded by John Paul Jones (Long name, amazing results)

1803 – In the decision for Marbury v. Madison, Chief Justice John Marshall declares that any act of U.S. Congress that conflicts with the Constitution is void (what up legal system!(I've been saying "what up" WAY to much, it stops now!))

1876 – Alexander Graham Bell applies for a patent for the telephone, as does Elisha Gray (Spoiler alert, it's not Elisha Gray)

1899 – Voting machines are approved by the U.S. Congress for use in federal elections. (Approved after several recounts, the pencils were really sharp that day and everyone kept poking holes in the marked  boxes, people where confused where the pencils had poked and where they had marked, hence the invention of the hanging chad)

1818 – Frederick Douglass, American abolitionist, was born

1894 – Jack Benny, American actor and comedian, was born ( I can't say anything funnier than Jack Benny, I admit defeat, you win Jack Benny, you win) 

1913 – Jimmy Hoffa, American labor union leader was born ( hey, I know where he ain't ya see? yea, yea, you'll never get it outta be alive ya, here? yea) 

270 – St. Valentine, passed away marking (marketing?) Valentines Day

And hence the invention of National Ulcer Day, the day where every single freakin relationship, between friends, classmates, relatives, more than friends, comes under fire (THANKS HALLMARK), resulting in an increase in sales of stomach medication (this is a theory and has not been proven by research (mostly my own lack of Goggling)).  What cards are appropriate? I can't get everyone the card about my deep undying, undulating love for them, that's not appropriate for my grandma! And the panic is ingrained in us from early childhood, what cards are good to get for every one in class? My stomach hurts.  

Is this one going to get me made fun of? Does this card make it sound like I LIKE, LIKE Bob or I just , that I like Bob.  Should I still address it by my pet name for him ("Stinky Blob", I was creative, even as a child, and I had a very advanced understanding of the use of words)? Because I really like Frank, I wonder what card he's getting me? Does he like candy hearts or mini chocolates? Can I give him anything 'cause Mary thinks Frank's cute too, and when Shavodka said she liked Frank, Mary said she thought Shavodka's backpack was icky. 

Whether (had to double check that word and I'm still not sure I spelled the right one)  you're single/ or in a relationship, you don't know the proper attitude to take, do I hate Valentine's Day more than global warming, or does that make me sound petty and bitter. Do I love it  (and if I do why don't I marry it?) like I love sunshine and cupcakes (If you don't like sunshine and cupcakes (barring traumatic experience or physical aliment) we can't be friends), and does that make me a desperate, clingy sap? 

I need a tums (TUMS TUM TUMS!).

I like the attitude me and friend took last year on National Ulcer Day (I don't know if I should classify it as an attitude or a stroke of pure genius), we went around to every fast food place in town and bought something. Then we ate it. Then we watched good crappy TV and laid around complaining about how miserably full we were and how we shouldn't have done that. We're doing it again this year. 

I'm gonna need some Pepto Bismol.  

Happy Ulcer DAY!!! 

facts and dates taken from Wikipedia. Comments, taken from thin air. 

Sunday, February 13, 2011


Ricky Martin's Pants..............picture coming as soon as someone else put's on google or something

O HAPPY DAY!!!!!!!! Brittany found a picture of Ricky Martin's Pants!!!!!!!!
Here is the link:

Erma Bombeck

This is who I want to be when I grow up.

A Canadian Spy in our Pop Culture midst

Henry Winkler aka "The Fonz" aka "Fonzie" aka "Arthur Herbert Fonzarellie"  is a Canadian spy. Seriuosly, why does anyone need that many aliases unless it's because they are a spy. Aye?

He's an older man with a dubious past (all he ever really says is that his parents abanoned him at from 6 to what like 45 he was on his own? smart kid.) that has tried to integrate himself into the community by shrouding himself in american stereotypes and iconography (15 point word!). He exclusively wears blue jeans, white t-shirts, and a leather jacket? Really? Seen to many 50's movies Fonz?

Also he only own's motorcycles. Easy get away? Good for maneuvering through alleyways and losing those pesky counter-espionage agents that have been tailing him. And he's careful not to ride foreign bikes, all american made.

Also have you noticed that he has a weird accent like he's trying to cover his real one up? But he can't stop himself from adding "aye" to the end of everything.  I mean seriously, that biggest problem with his is cover up is his catch phrase "Aye".

Also his office is in a bathroom in a burger joint. SKETCH BALL. Also ALSO, he only makes phone calls from a payphone and keeps all his phone numbers on a bathroom wall, plausible denialbility?

I'm on to you Fonz, I'm on to you. 

Saturday, February 12, 2011

The job search

Must be human....okay, got that

Team player and independent....well that's an oxymoron but I can do both

Able to remove staples from large stacks of documents....Yes, I have opposable thumbs

Able to communicate effectively........ummmmmmmmm, sure, wait what? .

Must have impeccable organizational skills........I can fake that on the resume (do they require a photo of your bedroom?) and they didn't say what type of organization, I personally know where almost everything is in my apartment. Except my cupcake pan that's shaped like mini bunt cakes. I really want some muffins, where IS that?

Must have at least four years of higher education from an accredited university....... Ok, will have that soon, but um really? To remove staples, that's what all this time and money was spent on?

Must be able to push a cart with up to 50 pounds of paper on it.....Whephu (pronounces FEW, while letting out a long breath and wiping your forehead as if you were really worried or had just completed some kind of physically exhausting work), ok, as long as it's not 50 pounds of lead, we all know 50 pounds of lead is heavier than 50 pounds of paper, what with units of measurements and gravity not being real or anything.

Must have at least four years in a secretarial position and demonstrate a working basic knowledge of  finance and accounting......ok, have secretarial position experience and WHAT UP, I'm an accounting minor. Took intro to finance, can't get more basic than that

Must have at least 5 years experience in State and Government Insurance with a minimum of 6 references from elected government officials with a "t" in their name.........well that seems a little hard to get.

Must have 7 years experience in a government agency.......I worked on campus (state school) for three years and in the 2010 so, a little short on that

Must speak four languages (minimum, preference given to those that speak more).......No habla Espanol bien sin "Google Translate". Also, don't think paigeaness counts, tho it should, it's a complicated and beautiful language.

Salary/annual pay range is $15,000-15,500......Wow, that will not pay for my student loans, let alone rent, food, gas to get to work, clothes, internet connection, cable (CANNOT GO WITHOUT AGAIN), books, hairbows, bobby pins, my exotic animal collection (not real but what if I wanted a baby leopard?)

Hours per week 40(+).........Isn't that less than minimum wage? Is that legal?

Must enjoy smiling.......I can fake it till I get the job.

Geez, McDonald's has really upped their job requirements for line cook.

Friday, February 11, 2011

International girl of babbeling!

What up Canada, Germany, Latvia, Sweden, and United Arab Emirates!

In Canadian
What up Canada, Germany, Latvia, Sweden, and United Arab Emirates, Aye!

In German:
Was bis Kanada, Deutschland, Lettland, Schweden und Vereinigte Arabische Emirate!

In Latvian:
Kas up Kanāda, Vācija, Latvija, Zviedrija, un Apvienotajiem Arābu Emirātiem!

In Swedish:
Vad upp Kanada, Tyskland, Lettland, Sverige och Förenade Arabemiraten!

In Arabic (I hope):
ما بالتسجيل في كندا، وألمانيا ، لاتفيا، والسويد ، والإمارات العربية المتحدة!

I have readers all over the world! And lots of exclamation points!


I hope Google Translate (Google) got that all right, super sorry if it didn't.  Also, if you read my site, it more than likely means you speak English anyways, but still, I wanted to say something nice. 

Nicolas Cage

"What are you doing Nicolas Cage?"  "What are you doing  predicting the weather (Weatherman)  and you know you're not a demon chaser from hell (Ghost Rider).

I cannot believe Nicolas Cage is anyone other than Nicolas Cage, when I watch a movie or a TV show and I refer to the people on the screen by their character's names, they are doing a good job. I can only think the whole time I'm watching Nicolas Cage on screen is "What are you doing Nicolas Cage?".

I alway say this in a tone kind of like the tone you use when you talk to a young toddler you've caught doing something wrong, wrong enough that you have to correct them but funny enough that you aren't mad. And you always ask them what they're doing even though you know they can't respond, you just can't stop yourself.

Why are you following clues left by our forefathers Nicolas Cage?

Why are you going to marry Peggy Sue, then ruin her life Nicolas Cage?

Why are you stealing and raising a baby Nicolas Cage?

Why are you time traveling and raising a family Nicolas Cage?

Nicolas Cage, why don't you go take a nap pumpkin? 

He's made movies I like, but despite of him not because of him, they're movies I'm glad were made but they would have been better with someone else playing his roles(take note Hollywood, I'm available for all big decisions). Also, Nicolas Cage, just killed my will to write. For about two hours. Or several sentences. Ok I can write ( I don't think what I do can be called writing, I think that's an insult to real writers, what I do is type my babling, I babel, that's what I'll call it) again.

I've apparently seen way to many Nicolas Cage movies, for disliking his acting so much. I like him as a person (and I know this because he can't act therefore I have to believe the way he is on screen is also the way he is off screen, just in different clothes, which is what distinguishes his characters between movies).

He wouldn't be my best friend, or anyone who I would go out of my way to hang out with, but he's a good filler. I wouldn't got go somewhere because he was going to be there. I would exchange pleasantries with him in passing, but he probably wouldn't get invited specifically by me to my birthday party (10 months and counting).

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


So part of the scary big brother computer thing is that I can see what devices people use to access my blog (seriously there has to be a better word than blog, the word "blog" just sounds stupid. Like a big gooey mass or that 1958 movie "The Blob" with the big gooey mass that ate a whole town and I don't want my words to destroy a whole town (watch it or you're not a real person,harsh but it's a classic and shame on you if you haven't seen, or if you have "that's cool").

Any who, my stats break down like this (I made a really cool pie graph, but blogger (big gooey masser) likes to mess up my plans):

40% Use Windows

20% Use Macintosh

15%  Use BlackBerrys ( If this was a pie chart it would be blackberry, don't get me wrong Apple (hehe) is good, but I'm in the mood to stain my teeth)

10% Use  iPhones (oooooo, blackberry pancakes at  IHOP! I haven't had dinner yet. Also, look how fancy my readers are, you go guys!)

5% Use iPad (WOW, show off, you guys think you're just so special don't you, you just think you're so much better than the rest of us (yes that's jealousy))

4% Use a crystal ball (I wonder if they're reading today's post or tomorrows?)

1% Are reading over someone else's shoulder ( Dude, that's so freaking annoying, write down the site and read it on your own computer "")

5% Are laying on the floor while someone reads it to them ( hey, when you're reading it, do you automatically make the necessary grammatical changes or do you read it the way it's written?).

I'm not a computer

I know this will surprise and disappoint people, but I am not a computer.

I know this because of those stupid squiggly words you have to type to prove you're not a computer (although aren't they created by computers?). Like when you forget your password or you try to leave a comment somewhere.

 I can't read them 2/3's of the time and I'm pretty sure that Google is using really obscure words and is laughing at how little we really know.  Seriously, most of them could be words, I bet they are words and my vocabulary is just stunted.

Below are examples I collected to help reinforce my paranoia (I gave them meanings, so I could be like that guy that invented the word quiz).

Words Computers Can't read:

Chieg- from Deutsch origin. Noun. The hard dried out piece of the cheese when it gets left out. "Half this cheese is chieg, gross." 

Reese-  from Hershey's origin. Noun. A delicious candy! No creativity here, just hunger. "Don't let me know where you keep your Resse's. I will eat them.ALL."

Weksph- from welsh origin. adj. A rich, snotty term, to describe when your shoes get damp from standing in the grass drinking champagne (or vodka in a water glass) all day while watching polo. (I have recently watched "Pretty Woman").  " My $500 pair of shoes have Weksph stains, from being rich and drinking champagne while watching polo. Glad I wore the cheap pair."

Vizatemb- from classic TV origin. Pharmacology, Trademark. The medicine formally known as Vitameatavegamin. When the FDA decided that its claims to make you more "poop-ular" when taken regularly, a  pharmaceutical company bought the formula and is now selling it as a mood stabilizing drug. Also known to prolong intimacy with little to no memory after the fact. "Hey didn't you and Katie hold hands last night?" "No clue man, I just got a perscription for Vizatemb, my head hurts and I'm thirsty". 

Daling- from Middle English origin. Noun. Used by old movie stars to show their class and money, usually pronounced with 14 extra a's. "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-ling absolutely everyone was in love with Carry Grant.

Mityp- Noun. A white geriatric rapper. 

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Hey, guess what I found in my cupboard.

Ground mustard .

Cone Head

Made an emergency room visit around 1:30 am last night ( I consider it last night not this morning, because I still hadn't gone to sleep and the world revolves around my schedule therefor it was still last night).

 Riki, the neighbor who revoked  my Netflix privileges' (now referred to as Next Door Neighbor, proper name so it's ok, to capitalize) cat, had a large scary lump on her throat. Up Stairs Neighbor discovered it while she was giving the cat a good night pet at around 1 am. The lump was much larger than a marble, not normal.

We should have known something was wrong immediately when the cat let herself by picked up and petted, she's only affectionate when she's hungry (the cat, not Up Stairs Neighbor.......although, come to think of it......), and her bowl was full of food.

We spent about an hour debating if we should go to the vet (when we called they were kind of distracted, I think they we're checking their bank account while deciding if we should come in or not). We Goggled (google!) "Large scary lump on cat" and "large possible cyst on cat" and "what the crap is on that cat (my suggestion!)" but that didn't really help.  Although, there's a lens cleaner out there that makes me uncomfortable.

So we packed up Rika the Cat, and went to the 24 hour emergency vet, braving the iced covered roads and whiteout blizzard conditions, maybe even a wolf or two that could sense the wounded prey in her carrier (flurries, a little wind, and what may have been a squirrel).

So Rika gets, admitted and we sit the waiting room. Next Door Neighbor pacing and me going cross eyed from watching the fish in the curved aquarium.  Little known fact, at least to me, when you put salt water in a curved tank, your eyes can't focus on jack squat and you end up looking stumbling drunk when the vet comes in and you try to stand up to greet her.

Rika had to have an abscess cleaned, the weirdest the vet said she'd ever seen (reassuring). To clean the area  had to shave Rika's chest, I wanted to ask how many ways that could be done, but it didn't seem appropriate (really, something shiny caught my eye and I got distracted) so they could lance the sore (EWWWW, cough, gag).

They also had to put a big white cone around her head so she wouldn't mess with her stitch (math lesson- one cat stitch =100 people stitches, math by the school of hyperbole). Here I wanted to make Cone Head jokes but it was like 3:30 in the morning and I had stopped making cohesive sounds, I may have just ended up muttering about Dan Aykroyd.

The operation was succesful and we returned home after a quick stop at walmart to buy her a new litter box and food bowl.Rika is home and pissed now, she can't figure out why that flippin cone is stuck on her and why she has to stay in the bathroom (Next Door Neighbor has another cat, and the vet said to keep them separated for a couple days). She also dosen't appreciate my well thought out and well rested Conehead jokes.

*Picture forth coming*

Monday, February 7, 2011

Netflix-Part Duxe

They've now been revoked until further notice. 

How to lose netflix privileges

My neighbor, being a good person, took pity on me when I couldn't afford cable and gave me the password to his netflix account. This little act of kindness got me through 6 of the hardest months of my life. How would I know "what not to wear" without Stacy and Clinton? How would I know what to eat with out food network? Would the bride-to-be with the opinionated mother ever "Say yes to the dress"? Would the children from "toddlers and tiara's" ever be discovered by DSS? If not for my neighbor, I would have been stuck watching 8 PBS channels and sometimes, when the planets aligned, I "wheel of fortune" and "Jeopardy"'.

An intelligent person, would be grateful and try to stay on this neighbor's good side. A normal person would do something nice to show their appreciation for such a gracious person. A bad person would continue to scare their neighbor until they caused him bodily harm.

 Our apartments are set up so that there is a small window over the sink that looks out on to the sidewalk (or into the kitchen, depending on where you're standing). So, when a person is doing dishes you can stand and look out at the mountains.

About two weeks ago I was taking out the garbage and noticed my neighbor was standing at the window doing his dishes, he was watching what he was doing, so he didn't see me walking by. I sat down the bag of trash and stood in front of the window  making a face, waiting for him to look up. For about 15 seconds I stood there,  trying not to alert him to my presence with my barely stifled laughter. He finally looked up and screamed. And dropped and broke the plate he was washing.

He scream was so loud, the neighbor that lives above him (also a friend) rushed to her window to see if everything was okay, she thought someone was being murdered. She opened her window to see me  standing outside on the sidewalk laughing so hard that I had quit making sound, and was gasping for breath.

My neighbor, still being a good person laughed it off, and went back to his dishes. I continued on my trek to the dumpster.

A couple days later I was invited over to finish watching a movie. I arrived  a little  earlier than he planned because he was still in the shower. I knocked on the door and when no one answered, I let myself in.  (for future reference, if you let me do this once and don't show extreme displeasure with me, I will continue to let myself in, "If you give a moose a cookie".).

 He had been snowboarding all day and was exhausted. I decide to use this opportunity to scare him again while he was naked and vulnerable. I  silently cracked open the bathroom door about two inches (with my eyes closed (modesty please!)), and very loudly, let him know of my presence by yelling "ROAR".

He screamed, spun around surprised by the noise , and fell in the shower (at this point I opened my eyes because I thought he was dead). He almost broke his neck (but survived), while I made my way into the living room trying really hard to not let him hear me laugh. I was not successful.

At this point his patience was wearing thin, as his bruise grew thicker and larger, but he tried to laugh it off and said it was funny. I tried to redeem myself by making the pop corn, but only ended up burning his last three bags in the attempt. I also broke the bowl I was going to put the pop corn in.

After this I went home.

I can have the password back on Thursday.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

I'm not a doctor, but I play one on WebMD

Who needs to actually attend a medical school? All you need is a TV and access to the Internet.

I have been studying rigorously under the tutelage of  Doctor House, Doctor Bailey, and Doctor Who for YEARS now. I've seen a multitude of rare disease and have helped to diagnose thousands of patients.

Until the invention of WebMD however, my imaginary illnesses were confined to everyday inventions. I had the flu when I sneezed, IBS when my stomach rumbled, I  had to leave school early because I got sand in my eye and if wasn't treated immediately I was going to be blind in hours. But, once I started working on my doctorate in exotic diseases from the University of WebMD, I was shocked by the variety of illness and chronic disease my poor body has been subjected to without ever being diagnosed. Really? How important can a medical license be when I've been having regualr medical check-ups my whole life and no ones ever noticed that I obviously have been infected with the west nile virus since the age of 7?

 I've seen a multitude of rare disease and have helped to diagnose thousands of patients.
With the help of WebMD, I've been able to self diagnose a cold as COPD with an acute comlication caused by pulmonary fibrosis.

One time I stubbed my toe and realized I had Lupus. Imagine, Lupus and I never even knew.

Also, you don't even have to go to the doctor or the computer to discover you have an illness. Just watch a couple of commercials and you'll find out about all kinds of things you have.

"Are you tired, do you have trouble getting out of bed in the morning? Do you sometimes find yourself tapping the table with really noticing? Do you have trouble focusing? Then you need clindamycin HCl Oral, talk to your doctor about getting a prescription."

During my years I've minored in Law, every time I get sick it's usually something that makes me eligible for legal compenstation.

I need to lie down now, between my heart palpitations and anemia this kind of knowledge has worn me out. I wonder if that's normal? My toes been hurting and when I brushed my hair this morning I noticed there might have been more hair than normal in the bristles. I'm gonna look at webmd real quick first.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Corn Car

Watch out punch bug, the new passive aggressive car spotting game on the scene is called "Corn Car".

While driving, the occupants of the car search roads and byways for yellow 'corn colored' cars. The first person to spot a yellow car is awarded the honor of punching another occupant in the arm. This process can be repeated as often as a yellow car is spotted. It's very similar to punch bug, but it allows all cars the opportunity of causing pain.

There are stipulations that apply to this game.

Official DOT  ( Department of Transportation)  maintenance vehicles do not count and are off limits. Also, yellow cars parked in car lots.

The car must be 2/3 or more the same shade of yellow.

The puncher may not cause permanent damage to the punchee and should not put the occupants of the car in danger by making the driver lose control of the car, or lose her focus on driving by trying to hit the hitter back because she didn't know they were playing and is sick of being hit in the arm. IT FLIPPIN HURTS SAM.

Variations on this game include:

  • Cop bop, see a cop give someone a bop (you probably would not want to use your hit on the cop as this is illegal and you will wind up in jail).

  • Cruiser Bruiser- Give someone a bruise when you see a PT cruiser (this one may see to it that you are asked to always drive separately as most people don't like being bruised.)

  • Crash Bash- Bash someone when you see a car that's obviously been in a crash. ( maybe not actually bash, because that could be a misdemeanor).

Friday, February 4, 2011

Anti-sleeping aids

Horror movie trailers should not be allowed to scare the bejesus out of me while I'm trying to fall asleep. It absolutely never fails, as soon as my eyelids finally start getting heavy, the TV goes black, then flashes of disturbing images start pulsating onto the screen.

Is something ticking?

Really? There are health warnings blaring from cigarette packages and in fine print on alcohol, but none on these commercials. You really want to make me sleep deprived, then have me drive a 3 ton vehicle through morning traffic, and then put me in contact with stupid people, after a long night of paranoia? It's sick what corporate America is doing to its citizens, why are the democrats and republicans not deadlocked in a battle over who can fix this travesty "better"?

I don't need images of an axe murder lurking outside my window, which I'm always sure is unlocked (but if I move to go check then he'll know I'm home and make his move). Or images of my roommate watching me from the closet, waiting to take over my identity and rip out my belly button ring (doesn't matter that I don't have a belly button ring, I'm sure one would just appear). And I am 97% sure there is a clown under my bed, waiting to take me out Poltergeist style. AND WHAT IS THAT TICKING NOISE?!?

At this point every nerve ending is alive and sensing evil all around me. How have I survived this long without something getting me?

The screeching violin music is swelling, that possessed priest is waiting for me to to give him his cue so he can come in and spit pea soup at me (by the way: what the fudge pea soup? who decided that was an acceptable meal? who goes around saying "you know what I'm in the mood for today? Slime, lets put some slime in a bowl and call it dinner."). All while a menacing shadow is slowly making its way around my room and, seriously, WHERE IS THAT TICKING COMING FROM?!?

Now I'm going to have to stay up watching infomercials about how hard it is to wipe my nose and that one with the old woman's George Forman where I can make thousands of tasty meals for two in 7 minutes. Also I learned that I can make $7000 a month from home just by buying a $39.95 book sold by a Bridgett Marquardt look-a-like.  Did something just move in the kitchen, is that where the ticking is?

So now, I'm down to about 4 hours of sleep left. This sleep is usually slightly nightmarish so that when I wake up in the morning, I feel like Rip Van Winkle.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

I can make money with my mind!!!!

Google ad's is another way for Google to own the world. I know technically China does, but we are all really at Google's mercy.

China can't keep track of how much US property it owns without "Google maps", and it definitely can't keep track of payment plans without "Google Finance".

The US can't use it's missiles without "Google Doomsday" and we never would have put a man on the moon without "Google Shuttle Launch".

And how would the world communicate without "Google Translate'? The only way 2/3's of us know it's a holiday is by "Google Doodle"


However, I have currently earned $1.48 because of this megaolopy and for that I forgive it everything. I am easily bought.

Google ad's is only supposed to be clicked on if you find the ad to be actually interesting, and I absolutely agree with that. There's no use wasting time and the effort of the click on something you don't need, but gosh I love money!

Here is a partial list of things I can buy with this wind fall:

  • A hamburger off the Wendy's dollar menu
  • An hour of parking on campus
  • A rental from redbox
  • ANYTHING from the land of the dollar bins at Target
  • Three packs of Ramen
  • I CAN HAVE MY PICK OF ANYTHING AT THE DOLLAR STORE!!!!!! (I'm out of generic, expired cereal)
  • 1/6th of a 6 pack of anything
  • 4 wings on wing night at Macadoo's or Town Tavern.
  • 1/3 of a gallon of gas
  • 1/3 of a gallon of milk
  • 1/2 a cartoon of eggs
  • My sister's love
  • A cup of Lemonaid from a Lemonaid stand (this involves saving,patience, and an unrealistic belief that one day summer will return)
  • A two liter of soda
  • 30 minutes with a puppy
  • 1/10,000 of a new car
  • 1/40 of a new sweater
  • 3 hours of heat
  • 1 day of cable
  • Almost 5 minutes of a movie at a theater
  • I can buy half a chapter of a book

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Fist pumpin fun

Please google (with safe search on) "douche bag". It will be page after page of cast members from the Jersey Shore and many many look a likes. Also snooki you're from Chile.

                      NOT YOU

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

pizza and French fries

I have recently discovered the two most hateful phrases in the world.

The only way I can explain what I did, is by stating the obvious,  I am stupid and easily influenced. They also dangled something shiny in front of my face and used phrases like "hot chocolate, chair lift (that's a carnival ride right?), and cozy lounge".

I went to the mouth of hell (It's a lie that hell is hot; It's not, it's -14 degrees with 25 mile an hour winds, and I live with in 20 minutes of it.), and once there, scared, vulnerable and alone, people I didn't even know started yelling those hateful phrases at me.

They yelled at me when I went by, they yelled at me when I fell, they yelled at me when I stood up, they yelled when I fell again. Even a close friend, even my own sister, my flesh and blood would yell those two things at me "PIZZA AND FRENCH FRIES!!! PIZZA AND FRENCH FRIES!!!"

No, I was not hungry or taking orders, no it was not a comment on my weight (I think). It was the only advice anyone could give me on how to ski. For two hours these were the only words  I heard from any living soul's mouth, at one point when I fell and had a brief encounter with the bright light, I swear a colonial ancestor came to me, glowing and surrounded by swirling effervescent mist to whisper the meaning of life in my ear "pizza and french fries, mein Kind" . 

How can food imagery make me more balanced, make that elusive coordination that has hidden way from me my whole life, make it suddenly and miraculously appear? It's like some druid's chant that has been kept in the collective consciousness for thousands of years, that should unlock the mysteries of life for those able to unlock it's deep encrypted meaning. THOSE WORDS DO NOT HELP, they only exist to make the coordinated elite feel superior, like patronizingly benevolent gods. QUIT IT. 

WHAT sadistic bastard took two of the worlds most beautiful and comforting things and turned them into an evil and destructive idiom. I am forever scarred, I am haunted by nightmares of pizza and french fries that are trying to skin me like a Dexter character.

I will never be able to enjoy a comforting bite of my familiar friends without the cold chill of fear racing down my back. The cities of New York and Chicago have lost their appeal, their luster has been lost, their shine tarnished, a place of snow scraped backs and fear. 

France is place full of bruises, where little children look confused as the wizz by you, doing jumps and flips. Parents quickly shielding their children from your disgrace, lest your failure should some how taint their brilliant X game futures. 

Please, please for all that is good and decent and holy in the world stop using these phrases. Please try instead something from the following list ( please feel free to come up with your own terminology) :
  •  "parallel and acute!" everyone hates math anyways. 
  •  " carrot sticks and brussel sprouts!" while not visually helpful, not going to ruin the world's love of brussel sprouts, it's reputation is already mud.  
  • "Liberal and Conservative" some of the fights would be an interesting distraction for the other skiers while you try to stand up while attached to mutant Popsicles sticks.
  • "Drama major and Economics major!" They're use to illogical jokes about their degrees.
  • "Align vertically ( I I ) and carrot (>)!" May only be useful for English majors, teachers, and editors, but grammar already sucks hard.