Cupcakes and Nerf Guns

Spider Bitch

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 05 Aug 2014 08:15:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I saw a meme either on Facebook or Instgram (hastag all the hashtags) and it something along the lines of, “How awkward would it be if spiders could scream?” I have since been unable to find said meme. Ok, well, I tried looking for it, then my tummy had the rumblies so I got up and ate some cookies. Then I started watching cartoons and completely forgot all about it and here we are ...about three weeks after I saw the original meme and was going to blog about it. #forgetfulheffer Whoops, thought I was on Instagram.

So, back to the original point. How awkward would it be if spiders could scream? Well, I can tell you I probably wouldn't Hulk stomp (while I'm screaming my Amazon warrior cry) on them as often. But then I got to thinking...if those little bastards could scream I'm sure those bitches would be able to talk. And then that led into this little montage of pictures.

In short, I fracking hate spiders.

Scouts Honor

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 18 Jan 2014 22:31:00 +0000

I bet you didn't know this but I was totes a girl scout. Yeah, you read that right, I rocked that nerdy green uniform and everything...for about two whole weeks. That's about how long it took me to realize that the scouts wasn't really for me and I'm sure my mom was tired of all the damn fundraisers and bake sales she had to take me to.

I know the goal of the scouts is to empower young girls to be smart, independent women, learn useful skills that will follow them throughout their lives and to peddle cookies. I'm sure my mom had the best intentions when she signed me up but then again I'm sure she did it mostly because of this:

And this:

And of course, this:

It may have just been the troop I was assigned to but it didn't really feel like a fun group of girls. Instead, it felt more like a clique of girls who weren't fond of outsiders joining. Don't get me wrong, at first they were pretty stoked about a new member.

But then the novelty wore off and they went back to their separate groups to talk about the new girl and to talk about each other.

The moms weren't much different but the girls had to learn from some where.

Not to mention I thought we would do more cool stuff like learn about outer space, learn how to read a map and use a compass and play with Ninja Turtles. Instead, it was bake sales, learning how to wrap gifts and sit in a smelly room and talk about camping.

Thus, ended my two week career as a girl scout. I ditched that nerdy uniform and went back to more important things. Ninja Turtles.

Also, have you liked this super awesome blogs Facebook page? If the answer is no well, you're breakin' my balls! So, just click on this little linkie riiiiiiiight here and hit the like button home fries!

Dreamy Frogs

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 18 Jan 2014 22:00:00 +0000

Dreams can be funny. You go to sleep and your mind creates this bizarre movie and the only way to shut it off is by waking up. Most of the time you’re thestar and you can be anything from a flying super hero to running away from a crazed psycho clown wielding a chainsaw in one hand and giant man eating spider in the other.

And sometimes you dream about falling off a cliff and do that really awkward body spasm, which if you’re anything like me you wake up and your dog looks at you like you’ve lost your damn mind.

Every now and then you might even have a dream about something that contains hidden meaning about something that’s going on during your waking life. It’s kind of like your subconscious is trying to give you the answers to a test but when you wake up you forget all the answers.

Or you just have a dream and wake up thinking, “what the fuck was that?” That happened to me the other night. I woke up and just thought to myself that maybe dream me was high on opium (cause it’s classy like that). Let’s explore my dream, shall we?

So, it starts with me at a party.

I’m not sure why most of this is in black and white. I googled (for about two seconds because then I got bored) and found that peeps typically 60 or above tend to dream in black and white while the younger folks dream mostly in color. I guess me dreaming in black and white goes right along with my old age of 28…considering I’m forgetful, blind as a bat and like hard candies.

ANYWAY! I’m at some shindig and everyone is hobnobbing. I have no idea who anyone is or how I got there and even though I’m standing in the middle of the room and awkwardly staring at peeps, no one notices me. Some of the people there are fancy, I mean like monocles, canes (like Malfoy’s dad in Harry Potter) and sparkly diamonds and jewels. Then there are peeps like me, dressed like they’re heading to Target because well, if they were heading to Walmart they would be in dirty wife beaters and Christmas fleece pajama bottoms.

Suddenly, a person appears in front of me. I have no idea if this is a dude or a lady but they tell me that this is a really special party. It’s special because they’re going to give me an animal and as long as I take really good care of this animal then something really good will happen to me in the near future.

What animal did I get, you ask? A super adorable sloth? Nope. An annoying Taylor Swift singing goat? No. Oh, I must have gotten a mega cute panda bear! Nope. Instead, I was presented with this little guy:

This person dramatically waves their arm towards the wall and sitting on the table are two medium sized aquariums. Each looked the same, a little bit of water, some rocks, a little plant life and a small, green and black frog. I only have to take care of the one frog because another person gets the other.

I go to the tank and check out my new little friend (HA). I look over to ask this person why the aquarium wasn’t covered because well, common sense would dictate that little Kermie would jump out to freedom, unfortunately, mystery he/she has disappeared into the party. So, instead I reach my hand into the tank and pull little Kermie out. Seeing as how I’m a regular person I worried about little friend jumping out of my hand so I held him a little tightly.

After a few minutes I noticed that Kermie wasn't making any movements like he was trying to break free. Curiousity got the better of me so I decided to loosen my grip and see what would happen. He just sat there, chillin’ on the palm of my hand.

I decided I wanted to check out the rest of the animals and see what everyone else at the party got. I was a little worried about a hawk or something snatching the little fella up so do I put him back in the aquarium? Nope, instead I put him in one of the safest places I could think of. My bra.

I don’t mean like I squished the poor thing between my boob and the bra. Poor fella would suffocate. Instead, I placed him in the little area between the cleave and bra and to be honest, he seemed pretty comfortable there. I mean, who wouldn’t, AM I RIGHT?!!?!? *baddacha!*

The dream gets a little fuzzy after that. All I really remember after that point is checking of Kermie every now and then and then seeing a random horse.

After I woke up I started to wonder about the whole dream. Was it just some off the wall, bat shit crazy dream or was it one of those weird, you’re brain has something to tell you but instead of being up front it tells you secret, Da Vinci Code type codes you have to crack? I asked my all-knowing friend Google about the meaning of frogs in dreams. There were quite a few responses on it.

To see a frog in your dream represents a potential for change or the unexpected. The frog may be a prince in disguise and thus, signify transformation, renewal or rebirth.

Then there was this:

Alternatively, the frog symbolizes uncleanness or fertility.

But then there was this:

Frogs represent blessings, love, and prosperity. If you dream of holding a frog in your hands, it suggests you fondest wish shall come true.

I told a fellow co-worker about the dream and her theory is that the frog is a prince in disguise. She further backed this theory by pointing out there was a second aquarium with a second, similar frog and that maybe, just maybe, the person I’m destined to meet is taking care of the second frog. It’s a cute idea, would be pretty neat if it were true but in the end it was just a dream. Maybe tonight I’ll dream about marrying my long time crush, Ryan Reynolds.

Lyrics and Junk

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 06 Jan 2014 03:35:00 +0000

Hey guys. I know it's been a while and as much as I would love to tell you about all the adventures and crap I've been on that would explain an almost three month hiatus, I cannot. Mostly because I didn't go on any super cray cray adventures. Much like everyone else in the world I got swallowed whole and spit out with the holidays. Although, to be honest, I did have a few days where I could have caught up with everyone. Trust me, I had all the intention to do so.

That's how I had planned those glorious free days. Instead, it ended up more like this:

So, I guess I should get everyone all caught up on my super busy social life. Well, let's see. I bought some fish. Then they died. So I bought some more fish and then one of my cats ate one of them. OH! I got a new hair cut.

This is the before. I know what you're all thinking, "But Rosie! You look like such a beauty queen! Why would you cut off your beautiful, luscious locks of hair?" The simple answer, I was bored and wanted something new. Wanna see it?

Look at that sexy beast! Smizing like a billion times better than Tyra ever could. I know, my hair cut is totes adorbs!

Alright, that's enough catching up. ON TO THE ACTUAL BLOG POST!

If you're like me then you probably have about a billion songs in your little music device thingie (I use an old Ipod...) and out of those billion there's probably about 50 that you don't remember even adding to your playlist. The other night when I was driving home from work one of those songs came on and at first I was thinking, Yeah! I love this song!

Then as the song played I began to listen to the actual lyrics and couldn't help but think that Ms. Laura Branigan was that crazy ex-girlfriend who didn't understand the concept of letting go. Don't believe me? Well, let's take a gander at those lyrics together.

How am I Suppose to Live Without You

(Ok, come one. Even the title is on the clinger side)

I could hardly believe it
When I heard the news today

I had to come and get it straight from you

They said you were leavin'
Someone's swept your heart away
From the look upon your face, I see it's true

So tell me all about it
Tell me 'bout the plans you're makin'
Tell me one thing more before I go

Tell me how am I suppose to live without you?
Now that I've been lovin' you so long
How am I suppose to live without you?
And how am I suppose to carry on?
When all that I've been livin' for is gone

I didn't come here for cryin'
Didn't come here to break down
It's just a dream of mine is coming to an end

And how can I blame you

When I build my world around
The hope that one day we'd be so much more than friends

And I don't wanna know the price
I'm gonna pay for dreaming
Even now it's more than I can take

Tell me how am I suppose to live without you?

Now that I've been lovin' you so long
How am I suppose to live without you?
And how am I suppose to carry on?

When all that I've been livin' for is gone

And I don't wanna face the price
I'm gonna pay for dreaming
Now that your dream has come true

Tell me how am I suppose to live without you?
Now that I've been lovin' you so long
How am I suppose to live without you?
And how am I suppose to carry on?
When all that I've been livin' for is gone

You guys thought I got a little morbid with that second to last picture, huh? She's a crazy ex-girlfriend, you know she has some ninja stuff up her sleeve. I mean come on! You SAW the stalker like pictures she had.

So here's an extra picture. I had a place for it in the this post and then forgot how I was going to segway it in. But I like it so here's my awkward ending.

People can be so dramatic about my singing sometimes....

The Unhappiest Place on Earth

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 22 Oct 2013 14:37:00 +0000

When I was 5 or 6 my parents decided to take my brother and I to Disney World. You know, that one place that's also known as the happiest place on earth? That one GIANT amusement park that Walt Disney created so that when people went to it they would feel as if they were in some magical wonderland. That one place that just about every kid on the planet dreams of going. That one place where I was the grumpiest kid. Yeah, you read that right I went to Disney World and I was GRUMPY.

I have no idea why I was so grumpy. To be honest, I didn't realize just how grumpy I was until my brother and I were reminiscing and looking through the "Disney World Rosie Hates Everything" photo album. Fun fact, I was grumpy though out most of my childhood. We have albums upon albums where just about every other picture is me frowning, rolling my eyes or glaring into the camera.

I like to think that maybe I was just an old soul trapped in a 6 year old body. Instead of screaming and rejoicing with my fellow Disney loving age group, I was too busy wishing they would quiet down, wishing the lines for the rides were shorter and that I could get out of the hot sun. While all the happy children were busy bombarding all the Disney characters for pictures and autographs, I was standing to the side, glaring at everyone one of those drooling idiots.


Ah, the most magical place on Earth.....

Nope.

Effing Pluto

Even ice cream couldn't make me happy

Fuck you tea cups

Dumb ass Dumbo ride....

Even surrounded by Disney Princesses, I was still mega ass grumpy

Fuck you Disney World and you're NOT happy happiness crap

See, you guys thought I was making this shit up. Also, my brother had this weird thing about kissing the noses of the Disney characters with the plastic faces. So, all of them. We went back a few years later and I tried to make up for all the grumpiness. "OH MY GOD IS THAT GRUMPY THE DWARF?" (oh, the irony) But I was still reminded of that trip where I hated everything.

The "Waitress" and the Monkey

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 15 Sep 2013 21:35:00 +0000

Back in my early 20's (since I'm slowly creeping up on being considered in my late 20's) I got my first real adult job. I gave my lame, part-time mall job the two middle fingers and bounced out that bitch and moved on to a full-time, now you can go to the doctor because you can afford health insurance, teller at a bank job. Like any job, it had it's ups and downs, co-workers that made me really debate about bringing a booze filled flask to work, co-workers that turned into life long friends and then there were the customers. Most were just the run of the mill, here's my check now give me cash type customers. Others would argue with you over a transaction that was a penny over what they wrote down in their check register.

You never fully comprehend just how disgusting money is until you have a "waitress" bring in $500 in singles to deposit. And by waitress I mean stripper. I'm not saying everyone that came in that stated they were a waitress was actually a stripper. But this lady of the night...


What? I like pie!

Pretty sure some of those were in her lady business.

I also like cake.

Yeah, I'm not touching that shit.

She brought her own stripper pole...

I brought my own Hazmat suit.

Another memorable customer was this one lady and her purse. The transaction started out like any normal transaction. She wanted to cash a check or withdraw money or do something that my brain doesn't really remember. But that's mostly because, even after all these years, it's still really shocked about what was in her friggin purse.

See, everything is all normal, nothing funny going on here. Just looking at pictures of dragons on my computer while she fills out whatever the fuck she has to fill out. And then it happened. Her purse moved. And I don't mean like it shook a little or maybe a bottle of water shifted, I mean the damn thing shook like there was a living creature inside.

Those aren't stinky lines, I was trying to emphasize just how much this purse moved on it's own.

Naturally, I just assumed it was a little puppy or one of those tiny dog breeds that live in lady's purses.

After a few totally logically explanations as to why her purse would move on it's own, I went back to counting money. And then it shook all over again.

And she just went about her business like nothing was happening. Meanwhile, in my head I was screaming, "BITCH, WHAT THE HELL IS IN YOUR PURSE?"

Then this happened.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!? IT'S A HAND! IT'S A TINY BROWN HAND! WHAT THE FUCK!!!

IT'S A GOD DAMN MONKEY!

Guys, I'm not making this shit up. A friggin' monkey popped out of her purse! And then she asked if we had any dog treats to give the monkey.

Best Friends Forever!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 10 Sep 2013 02:44:00 +0000

Don't cry for me Argentina. The truth is, I never left you. I just got busy with work and volunteer stuff and crying about needing sleep. You know, the usually stuff. Anywho, I'm finally starting to get out of that horrible writers block funk!

So, I present to you, Best Friends Forever.

A few weekends ago I went to lunch with a friend of mine that we'll refer to as "Scotty." Now, "Scotty" and I have been BFF's since high school (that's nearly 10 years ago...ugh. I don't wanna be old) and although we may not chat every single day, when we do manage to find time to hang out (since someone finally moved closer after having to move several states away to go to fancy lawyer school) it's like zero time has passed. Getting all the mushy feelings stuff out of the way, I figured I would share the story of the first day we met. It was my senior year (her junior) of high school and I was sitting in my drama class chatting with some friends when we all noticed this pale girl with bright red hair in the doorway. As we heard whispers between her step-dad and the teacher, we found out that she was from Scotland and this was her first day. The following pictures are a pretty accurate recreation of that day.


We did quietly and awkwardly stare at her as she walked to the empty table in the back of the room.

And we kept staring.


Even when she finally noticed us staring, we didn't stop.

After a few minutes of quietly staring back at each other, the group turned back around and went about their daily business. I, with my feelings, felt bad that "Scotty" was all alone at her table so I took a seat across from her and introduced myself. That exchange went a little like this:

I had black hair and short bangs back in the day..DON'T JUDGE MY HAIR CHOICES!

At this point, I was just calmly telling her my name and ah mah gad welcome to America and stuff! How long have you lived in the land of freedom, deep fried food and the Backstreet Boys? Which would explain why I got this reaction:

There was surprise...which quickly turned into a glare

"Scotty" claims she glared at me because she was all nervous and crap about not only being in a new school with zero friends but in a totally new country as well. Plus, we had just spent about 20 minutes staring at her. I just thought she was being a bitch. Then I realized the reason she was looking at me like I was crazy was probably because while I was politely and not crazily introducing myself, she saw this:


I tried to draw a unicorn but it just looked like an obese pony ...


See! I told you she glared at me!

This is the part where I was just confused because damnit, I was so frigging nice and crap and she was just sitting over there, glaring at my niceness. She eventually warmed up to everyone and now I proudly call "Scotty" mah BFF with the funny accent!

We're totes high fiving.

Staring 2.0

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 25 Aug 2013 21:33:00 +0000

Since I have a case of the Oh My God I Fucking Hate Writers Block, I decided to skim through the old blog here and pick one of the stories and add some doodles to it. Why not start with the very first story on the blog? As you may recall, that story was about one of my assignments for one of the education classes I had to take. I was to sit in a 4th grade classroom and observe, make notes, ~~check email, play fruit ninja,~~ and just watch the dynamics between the teacher and her students.

I was so good at observing that I was able to multitask with my phone and games

They weren't really THAT rowdy...

During one of my observation days, the teacher had to make a quick trip to the office and asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. They were working on a few assignments and even though she would only be gone at most 15 minutes, they shouldn't be any trouble. A few minutes after she left I started getting that creepy feeling that I was being watched and when I put my cell phone this happened:

And then he acted like nothing ever happened. He even turned and waved good-bye with his booger hand when I left for the day.

Writers Block

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 17 Aug 2013 06:40:00 +0000

Running With Zombies

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 25 Jul 2013 21:20:00 +0000

I've always wanted to be that one girl at the park that runs all casually like it's nothing. Or that girl at the gym that's running on the treadmill on level 10, incline 4000 and speed 60 kajillion while she flips through Cosmo magazine and texts all at once. I hate that bitch but mostly because I can barely last 5 minutes on the ARC machine, only to get my foot stuck in the pedal and creating this awkward scene at the gym.

Unfortunately, I've always been insecure about my body and never tried running or jogging. Despite what "Chris" said about me when I was apparently "running" from him inside WalMart the other night. I WAS WALKING! Just a little quicker than usual...

Anyway, "Chris" and I decided to try the couch to 5k workout since it's a workout that gradually gets your ass running. Needless to say, I whimped out on the running portion our first day at the park. Which looked a little something like this:


I died a little.

That night at work "Chris" found out about this app called Zombies, Run! I had heard about it years ago but completely forgot about it. Basically, it's an app that, like Couch to 5k, helps you gradually get into the running process. The difference is that this app uses zombies coming after your ass as a motivator. It's a pretty cool little app. It has this story line where you're in a helicopter crash and you some how find your way to Abel Township. However, Dr. Mary ( I can't remember her name) is a massive biotch who tells you if you're not able to bring back medical supplies from the abandoned hospital they may not be able to let you into the township. Oh, Dr. Mary, you just wait until I get you alone...OH NO! She had a bite mark on her arm so I killed her. Yeah, take THAT Dr. Mary.

So, as you're walking the story plays out until someone yells, "RUN!" Then another voice tells you that zombies are x amount of km away. You actually hear the zombies and the closer they are, the louder they are in your headset. So while it felt like this was happening:

It was really more like this:

That's a leery prairie dog..

The other fun part of this game is that it gives you missions to complete. Basically you have to find crap or Dr. Mary-I'm-A-Total-Dickbag won't let you back into the township. To be honest, some of these items are completely random.


"Chris" found a baseball bat while I found underwear...


I also found about 3 pairs of trousers, a pair of shorts and at least a billion sports bras.

While "Chris" kept finding all the important stuff like 1st aid kits and weapons.

We're still trying to figure out how the game knew I needed sports bras. That's another thing that keeps me from running. The fear that I'll knock myself unconscious with my boobs because, well, I'm quite..."busty." Want to know about other random things I collected while avoiding zombie hoards?

Random Shit I Found

Multiple bottles of water
5 cell phones
Power cable
6 First aid kits (see, I wasn't totally useless!)
Kensaido manifesto (whoever that is..)
Bandages (to smother the good doctor with..)
Axe
Pain meds
CDC box
Tinned food (not sure if that came with a can opener..)
Shorts
3 Pairs of trousers
8 Sports bras
2 Pairs of underwear
Baseball bat
A book

So far Zombies, Run! is a pretty useful tool for exercise seeing as how I'm excited to try out the next level called, "Lay of the Land." Maybe I'll run longer than 30 seconds.

Also, after years and years and years of rumors that we would be getting a Target, my town FINALLY got one. The typo in the headline is the reason Lawton can't have nice things.

The Day I found Waldo

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 15 Jul 2013 06:09:00 +0000

A few years ago I was in a study abroad program in Wales. As part of the program the first week the coordinators took the group of Americans on a few field trips. One such trip was to a castle and some other place that my mind is currently drawing a blank. What? I just woke up from a nap! Ok, fine…technically it’s the second nap of the day but it’s my day off. LAY OFF ME! Anyway, this is the trip when I discovered him. I FREAKIN’ FOUND WALDO!

I was just minding my own business talking to a friend of mine when I noticed his little red and white hat. Guys, he was even wearing the black hipster glasses.

So this is me getting my picture taken in front of a castle


So, I was just standing there before I had to get back on the bus.

In his defense, he only looked like Waldo because of the hat and glasses. He wasn't even wearing the striped shirt. I know, you would think that if you're going to be Waldo you would just go all out. We ended up spending the rest of the trip giggling every time we saw him.

This is what he actually looked like.

The rest of the semester was spent playing a real life Where's Waldo game. Anytime we saw him it would warrant an immediate text or email. It also led to some mild stalking behavior.

OH MY GOD, WALDO IS BUYING MILK!

WALDO IS GOING TO CLASS!

Then one day, it was like God was shining down on the "I Heart Waldo" ~~stalkers~~ club. The school we attended really LOVED to throw theme parties for the students. The first week class was in session they had a "Sex Party" theme which very quickly changed to "Playboy Party" theme. Not really much of a difference but that didn't stop the guy in a gold thong to knock on my window the following morning to ask that I let him in the building. But that's a story for another day.

Usually these parties had some reason (other than a lot of drinking) involved. I think this party was to suppose help fund or bring attention to AIDS research or something like that. Anyway, basically everyone was suppose to dress like Waldo or just wear the t-shirt they were also selling. We all hoped that our resident Waldo would not being wearing the t-shirt. We were all pleasantly surprised when we showed up the club and found that he decided to embrace his Waldo-ness and was dressed like Waldo, complete with cane!

We were so excited, he couldn't figure out why we kept staring at him.

You know how when you see someone and want to take a picture of them but don't want them to know about it because apparently it's considered "weird" and "creepy?" So, instead you have someone stand kind of in front of you just enough so it looks like you're taking their picture when really you're focusing on your actual object? Yeah, we did that...

That's how I spent a semester being a creepy stalker. I WASN'T THE ONLY ONE DOING SO STOP JUDGING ME!

You guys thought I was lying...

IT'S FUCKING WALDO!

Also, here are some outtakes from when "Chris" and I were shopping for glasses. I was so distraught over the news that he shot me in the eye with a Nerf Bullet just so that I would have the same vision as him that I forgot to add these pictures. Oh, I didn't tell you that? Yeah, "Chris" was all Oooooooh! Now you have the same vision as me! Rat bastard...

One day I'll get my friggin letter...ONE DAY!

He said we couldn't get matching glasses..

Pet Peeves, Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 13 Jul 2013 02:16:00 +0000

One of the advantages of the late shift that I work is that when I go grocery shopping at WalMart is that it's no where near as crowded and annoying as it is during the day. The downside is that I usually end up with one of two cashiers, "Chatty Cathy" or "Judgie Johnny" because for some reason the WalMart on my side of town doesn't keep the self check out open after 11pm. Bitches. "Chatty Cathy" isn't too bad unless you consider knowing EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF HER ENTIRE LIFE only slightly annoying. For instance, I know she has two boyfriends (I also know their professions), she likes Red Velvet ice cream from Ben and Jerry's, and she likes to go dancing at Scooters on Thursday nights (to which she's always inviting me to, unfortunately I'm always "working").

Then there's "Judgie Johnny." He seems nice enough, he's always friendly and fun to have small talk with. Until recently. The first few trips to WalMart where I ended up in his line I was buying insane amounts of fruit and veggies.

Then this day happened.

Which was followed by this totally accurate exchange.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that set off this reaction.

Ok, fine. I may be embellishing a little bit. The REAL reaction was more like this:

You would think considering the type of items that were on the conveyer belt he would have just shut his trap and bagged my items instead of judging me with his judgie judiness.

Smize, You're Doing it Wrong

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 30 Jun 2013 22:59:00 +0000

I'm not sure how this conversation started at work. I think it started when "Chris" and I were joking about "smizing" and one of our co-workers had no idea what it was. In case you have no idea what "Smizing" is, it's when you smile with your eyes. I'm pretty sure Tyra Banks has this trademarked so I probably owe her thousands upon thousands of dollars but jokes on Tyra cause this bitch is BROKE.

That then led to a conversation about America's Next Model. The conversation was more about some of the awkward poses the "models" have to do in their photo shoots. This then prompted me to get up and recreate a few of these "poses." In the office. While on the clock. And then it turned into a mini lesson on how to be a model from what I learned from watching the first few seasons of America's Next Top Model.

I stopped watching after Janice Dickinson left because she was that show. Here are some memorable quotes from Janice Dickinson, the worlds first super model.

Adrianne: I don't know what to feel. I feel I love Janice Dickinson.

Janice: Well, I didn't vote for you.

Janice: [About Catie] She looks like a child prostitute in this picture.

Janice: I was offended that she called me a bitch. I am a member of the PTA.

Janice: [About April's photograph] She looks like the batteries died in her vibrator.

Janice: [About Kelle] The hand coming through your legs looks like something that is on a man.

Tyra: [To Amanda] You continue to raise your eyebrow. You know, the Zoolander.

Janice: I used to be able to do it, but I have so much botox in my face I can't really do it anymore.

First, we'll start with "smizing." When you "smize" you are essentially smiling with your eyes. God forbid you use your mouth to show that you're smiling. What you want to do is show no emotion what so ever in the lip area, just pretend you got some Botox. Now, in your eye region you can have a little bit of a squint, but not too much. Need an example of a "smize"??


See, no emotion in the mouth area and just the TINIEST squint in the eye region to show the slightest bit of emotion

Perfect, next we're going to master the most awkward poses to complete what we in the biz like to call a Look Book. This Look Book (or what the non-fashion peeps call a portfolio) is what you're going to use on your "Go See." Ugh, sorry, I'm just so fashion forward and throwing all these fashion type terms at you. A "Go See" is when you go to multiple appointments with fashion designers and stuff and essentially apply for a job. But instead of an actual application you show them the pictures of the photo shoots and advertisements you've been in.

Here are some of mine:

Sometimes, you'll have a photo shoot and you won't be the only person involved. There might be another model involved and if you're lucky it could be a totes hot dude. Sometimes, it's another bitchy, I've-only-smoked-10-ciggerettes-and-ate-half-a-grape-and-did-4-snortfuls-of-cocaine, model. Don't let that get you down. Just stick to the awkward posing and smizing rules and the focus of that shoot will be all you.


See, who cares about that blonde heffer in the background, WHICH IS WHERE SHE BELONGS.

That's pretty much how we spent the rest of the evening at work. Now I feel like watching America's Next Top Model.

I'm BLIND!

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 27 Jun 2013 16:38:00 +0000

Color me all kinds of shades of embarrassed. I thought I had posted a different story about a week ago only for me to sign on and discover that I had not. What actually happened was that I discovered this drawing app for my Ipad, I drew some pictures to go with that post and then took a nap and completely forgot about it. My bad peeps. So, I'll post that story in a few days. Instead, today I want to talk about what happened the other day when "Chris" and I went to pick out glasses. If you subscribe to the blogs Facebook page then you probably noticed the latest update:

Went to get new glasses and made a discovery of EPIC proportions

The day before I had gone to the eye doctor and found out that the sight in my right eye had gotten slightly worse. By slightly worse I mean it went down an ENTIRE POINT!! I went from -2.75 to -3.75. The doctor explained that can be normal, blah blah blah, so I blew it off. Until the following day when Kimmy from Eye Mart Express showed me the light.

After about an hour of me going, "What about these ones? Oh, what about these ones? OH MY GOD CAN I PULL THESE OLD LADY ONES OFF?" I finally settled on a pair that was pretty similar to the ones I already have. Way to think outside but right against the box. So, our sales associate Kimmy had us sit at a table while she copied my information down when I pointed out to "Chris" how my right eye gotten worse. It was then that Kimmy asked, "Did you have some kind of trauma to your eye?"

Then this flashback happened:

"Chris" has made me blind and even Kimmy from Eye Mart Express agrees with me.

Woody and the Bottoms

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 04:10:00 +0000

In my line of work I come across some funny names, such as Dr. Assman. Ten bucks if you can guess what he specialized in. That’s right, CARDIOLOGY! There are some other names that I come across that, to be honest, if it were me I would have legally changed my name after I legally emancipated myself from the parents who named me, Justice or Rosie Nutter. Fellow co-worker Rachel and I have recently combined some of the funny names we come across and created two movies. Well, we haven’t CREATED the movies, just the story line so far and who we believe should be the lead actors.

Movie #1

Woody and the Bottoms

Hairy Bottoms is a recently retired NYC police officer who has taken a new job as an officer with the TSA National Explosives Detection Canine Team Program at the Pratt Regional Airport in small town Pratt, KS. Bottoms spent 20 years hitting the pavements as a street cop, breaking up prostitution rings, making drug busts and arresting the graffiti vandals of New York City. He took pride in his work but after the years of stress that started to build up and he had a nervous breakdown in the most unfortunate moments of a police officers career.

It was after his break down that he decided to retire and moved to small town Pratt, KS, assuming the sleepy town with 6,500 people would improve his health and help him relax. He accepted the job at the local airport and was surprised to discover that his new partner, Woody, the spunky little corgi was not only a bomb sniffing dog but he was also trained in sniffing for large amounts of money.

*queue montage of Woody training at the dog academy with Eye of the Tiger playing*

It took a few weeks and a few misunderstandings but Bottoms and Woody found their rhythm and routine. One night, during one of their routine patrols through the small airport Woody sniffed that something was amiss. By the time Woody got Bottoms attention it was too late. Old Lady Helen had already made her escape and all that remained were the light tire streak marks from her hover round. With the help of Ellie, owner and baker of the small bakery in the airport and her Jack Russell Terrier Molly, they discovered that Old Lady Helen was smuggling money from the airport to support her addiction to sugar free hard candies, crossword puzzles and her enormous Bingo debt.

And that's how Helen got into her enormous Bingo debt...

Cast List

Hairy Bottoms- Mark Wahlberg

Woody- Corgi

Ellie, Baker and Bottoms love interest- Elizabeth Banks

Molly, Woody’s love interest- Jack Russell

Old Lady Helen- Betty White

Tune in next week to read about our 2014 summer comedy:

Dr. Hurts and Dr. Kill
Prescribing laughter for summer 2014

A Conversation with "Chris"

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 01:00:00 +0000

Sometimes when "Chris" and I have a conversation via text we don't use words. Instead we use the SMS faces app and to be honest I think these conversations make more sense since there are none of my nonsensicle autocorrect gibberish that we have to decipher.

So, here's the background of the conversation that "Chris" and I are about to have. I went to work last night in capris and flip flops without checking the weather. About 15 minutes before my shift ended a huge thunderstorm occurred. I hope you can see where I'm going with this. Basically, it rained so much that I probably should have RSVP'd to Noah's Arc party and I was practically barefoot running across the parking lot trying to get to my car. This is the Facebook status I posted on my personal page and caused the almost wordless conversation between "Chris" and I.

"Wore flip flops to work and stepped in a giant mud puddle in the parking lot. It's ok, the mud got washed away when I stepped in the mostly rain water puddle in my drive way."

As you can see, I clearly won the argument with my "Dinkleberg" comment.

Single and Not Wanting to Mingle, Bitches

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 09 Jun 2013 09:27:00 +0000

First and foremost, if you haven’t liked the blogs official Facebook page or Twitter (ok, the twitter is my personal one and I don’t regret all my I hate Jodi Arias tweets) you totes should. You can either click here for Facebook and here for Twitter or just look over to the left and click on the word Facebook and Twitter.

I’m not sure what happened the other day but I think I may have had an epiphany of some sort. I don’t recall what I was doing at the time other then I suddenly heard the angels sing and there was this bright light surrounding me. I was probably at work which would account for me just blankly staring at the computer for about 10 minutes.

I’ve always been a fan of romantic comedies. You know the kind, the awkward girl makes googlie eyes at the handsome guy she doesn’t have a chance with, they date, they overcome some obstacles and then they get married. Happily ever after! And to be honest I think my addiction to romantic comedies has created some unrealistic expectations when it comes to love and relationships in real life. I have yet to date a guy that knew me so well that he could read my thoughts like in the movies or randomly showed up at my job to admit that although we’ve been friends for so long I’m the one he’s been searching for his entire life or chased after me to declare his undying love for me. To be completely honest, if any of the above scenarios happened I would probably first die of embarrassment and then call the cops for the dude being a creeper.

But there’s always been this tiny part of me, tucked deep away in my cold, black heart that thinks maybe, just maybe this guy is the perfect one for me. We’ll date, fall in love, have a big fight and then after some deep soul searching (queue the montage of me staring out a window while it rains and some sappy love song plays) he’ll declare his love for me and we’ll run into each other’s arms. Or meet at the top of Empire State Building. Maybe I’ll walk out of a church after someone’s wedding and find him leaning against his car. I told you my expectations were warped.

My epiphany that I talked earlier is in regards to this. I’ve been so focused on finding that other half and feeling as if I was missing something in my life. I see my friends’ Facebook pages covered in pictures of them with their spouses and looking all happy and crap. Look at all this fun we’re having and you’re SINGLE AND ALONE!

“Oh just me and hubby grocery shopping. What an adventure that you can’t have because you’re single!”

“Oh just me and the misses on a date night at the movies and you’re not here because you’re at home shoving cookies in your face while looking at Lolz Cat because YOU’RE FOREVER ALONE!”

Yeah, this is my reaction to your stupid posts, fyi.

And here’s the conclusion I came to. Fuck Relationships. Fuck the headache dating brings and fuck the time I waste on guys who can’t even spend ten minutes talking to me. So all you couples out there that keep posting about how happy you are that you found your soul mate, how you just can’t live without the other and god forbid you have to spend one night without the other, you can take all that happiness (and trust me the happier you make the post the more we know you’re actually unhappy) and shove it up your ass.

You know why? I’ve decided that I’m going to look on the bright side of things. Here’s a list of things that I get to enjoy because I don’t have someone joined at MY hip:

· I can do whatever I want, whenever I want

· Spend the day doing nothing and looking homely? Check!

· Oh, is that extra cash in my bank account? SHOPPING SPREE!

· None of that awkward, oh no I’ve never heard that story that you actually told me about a million times before but I’m being polite and acting like this is the first time I’ve ever heard it even though I would LOVE to shove a dirty gym sock in your mouth right now

· You know how you have to compromise on some TV shows? I don’t. Suckas.

· I don’t have headaches!

· You know how you have to consider your significant other before making some type of life altering decision? Oh, do I want to have spaghetti or hamburger for dinner but the significant other is on a diet so I should just make a salad. I can have a damn burger and a piece of cake for an entire week if I want to.

· I don’t start my sentences with, “WE love going there,” or “WE did this over the weekend.”

· You know that couple that can’t seem spend a single moment without each other? My parents raised me to be an independent woman and I can’t be more thankful.

Now, I’m not saying that I never want to get married and start a family. Honestly, it’s something that I want very much but not for a really, really long time. But what I’m getting at is that I’m not going to worry that I’m getting older and there still isn’t a prospect of a husband in the near future. I’m not going to spend every moment of every day wondering why I’m single and alone and everyone I’ve gone to high school with is married with kids. Instead, I’m going to enjoy this time in my life. I’m going to enjoy the fact that I can spend my free time doing what I enjoy. I’m going to enjoy the fact that I don’t have to put someone else’s concerns or needs before mine and I’m definitely going to enjoy the time that I can sleep in on my days off. I won’t have to feel guilty when a kid comes up to me and says, “Momma I need lunch money.” And I replied with, “Well, momma needs shoe money so get a job, kid.” Why? Because it’s not my kid, genius.

Tis Storm Season

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 30 May 2013 03:55:00 +0000

So, today we were placed on another tornado watch. Thankfully, it just rained like it was the end of times. After the storm “Chris” and I debated for about 20 minutes (it’s hard being a bestie with someone who is just as indecisive as I am) about what we were going to have for dinner. Earlier in the day I figured I would go to Subway then later on I became lazy and didn’t feel like driving. Eventually we both agreed on pizza since pizza boy can bring the food to us.

Now the last time we had a big, massive almost tornado hit in our area we were forced to go to the smelly basement with several soldiers, or as a few of us like to call them, man candy. Speaking of which, “Sean” said he could tell how disappointed I was that we did not get evacuated since I would not be with said man candy. I asked him why that was a problem as I am a single lady and no one seems to like me enough to put a ring on it. He claims it wasn’t a problem and in his words, “play on playa.”

So, since I’ve gotten completely side tracked from the original story, my b. Last time we dealt with crappy weather the man candy ordered pizza. In the middle of the insane storm. TWICE. “Chris” and I felt that since the storm today had cleared up it would be ok for us to order pizza. No, apparently it was not. One pizza place stated on their website they were not sending drivers out. A second one stated we could order online, however, they were only accepting orders for carry-out because the power went down in their store. BUT HOW DO YOU GET MY ORDER FROM THE INTERWEBS!?

We finally found Dominos and I have to admit this was probably the most entertaining on-line order I have ever done. First, “Chris” and I couldn’t figure out how to create our pizza. By create I mean that I wanted my half with tasty pineapples and ham and he wanted his half covered in stupid onions, peppers and junk. We were like those old people figuring out to use the internet and web cam for the first time. Even as we were creating our pizza we noticed there might be a problem as the digital creation depicted HIS toppings were all up on my half’s side.

I'm pretty sure if we had a web cam this is what Dominos would have seen.

Moving past our differences, we placed our order. Then Dominos was like, “Hey! Track your order!” So, I watched as the tracking thing changed from “order submitted” to “Brian is making your pan pizza with love” to “Brian is doing a quality check.” Well, BRIAN, you totes failed at the quality check. I know I should have taken a picture for actual evidence when we opened the pizza box but this is a really accurate picture of the pizza we received.

This is so accurate that it's almost like looking at the real thing all over again

I’m pretty sure that “Chris” called them after I placed the order and told them to make sure all of HIS toppings were on MY side of the pizza. Jerk.

Twister

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 27 May 2013 04:05:00 +0000

Last week I wrote about the horrible tornado that destroyed several parts of Moore, Shawnee and New Castle here in Oklahoma and talked about how I was proud to be an Oklahoman. Today, I figured I would write about when I first moved to Oklahoma and my first tornado experience and why at times I effing hate living here.

My dad is a retired Army Master Sergeant (trust me guys, he’s not as scary as that sounds) and we did not move to Oklahoma by choice. Uncle Sam sent us here after spending 10 wonderful years in Germany and the only thing that I knew about Oklahoma was that Hanson was from Tulsa (I totes fan girled about that and then sad faced when I found out how far away that is from Lawton) and the movie Twister was about a team of storm chasers tracking down tornados in Oklahoma. Needless to say, I was slightly scared of the move considering the scene with the flying cows.

This scene

Not this scene. Although, I still want to know where my damn Hogwarts letter is.

The road trip journey from Virginia to Oklahoma was pretty boring and that was probably because I slept the entire time. Well, there was that incident when we stopped at a hotel for the day and while my mom and brother were out getting food my dad was playing with the walkie talkie. The parental units used walkie talkies as a way to communicate during the drive since we took two cars. Some poor woman was on a cell phone near by and dad some how got on her frequency (this was back in the day when cell phones were just becoming popular and you could accidently hear someone else’s phone call, ugh I’m old). She was talking to, I’m guessing, her family about what to order for dinner when dad jumped into the conversation.

Dad- “Um, hello? Can you please get me some chocolate chip cookies?”

Confused woman- “What? Did you want cookies?”

Dad- “Yes, please. I would like some chocolate chip cookies.”

Confused woman- “Who is this?”

Fast forward to a few days later and my dad and I were heading to Wal-Mart (my first time ever) when we were sitting at a red light. Across the street was one of those digital billboards that tells you the time and temperature. Here’s what I saw:

11 P.M. and 113 F

WELCOME TO THE PITS OF SATAN!

Ok, it didn’t say “welcome to the pits of Satan,” but it was might as well have. I turned to my dad and calmly asked, “where did you bring me?!” About a year later was our first tornado experience. We had just moved into our new house and my dad (aka Bob Villa) had just finished building and putting up a tall, wood fence around the backyard. I helped and by helped I mean I walked outside, said it looked good and went back to watching T.V.

The clouds started turning that grey/green color and my mom had the local news on. After the weather man said everyone should probably take shelter in a closet or bathroom (and if your in the bathroom drag a mattress in there with you to cover yourself from debris) mom and I were watching the storm from the big bay window in the living room while dad was keeping watch through the blinds that faced the backyard. At first I couldn’t figure out why he was watching the storm from the back of the house, all the action was happening out front. Then I heard him muttering and swearing under his breath. He was kind of like the dad from A Christmas Story that was swearing up a storm in the basement while he was trying to fix the furnace.

I KNOW! It's not the dad but this was the closet I could find...meh. Suck it.

I stumbled upon this one in my great search for the dad from A Christmas Story. I miss Christmas time.

Fortunately, we didn’t get hit with an actual tornado. According to the weather man we were hit with the back draft of the tornado that demolished a lot of Oklahoma City. The urban legend around town is that Lawton sits in the middle of a valley and that’s why it seems like tornados just kind of skip over this town. That’s totally fine with me. Once the storm had cleared up I found out why dad had been keeping guard at the back side of the house and muttering like a mad man. He forgot to cement the fence to the ground so when the storm hit the winds pushed the fence over. Luckily for my dad it all knocked over in one piece.

Don't ask. Just enjoy.

Oklahoma Strong

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 22 May 2013 04:19:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I wrote a post about when “Chris,” I and our co-workers were sent into the basement of the building next door due to possible tornadoes. Yes, it was scary considering the text messages I was getting from my mom “touch down near the air port,” (well, it’s more of a landing strip where the 2 or 3 flights a day are delayed or cancelled) or worrying because I hadn’t heard from my brother. Turns out he was stuck in the bathroom at his job with co-workers, playing cards and drinking coffee. But there wasn’t much to worry about since the tornadoes that hit weren’t very powerful and didn’t cause much damage. Plus, the goofing off with co-workers really helped to calm the nerves.

But that’s life in Oklahoma. The tornado sirens go off and we immediately stand outside to check for funnel rotations or switch on the news. We figure out how we’re going to go about our day based on what the almighty weather man (sometimes his crystal ball gets it right but most of the time it's wrong) tells us, like if we’re under a tornado watch or a warning. A big majority of the time the tornado warning just turns out to be a severe thunderstorm so we take some pictures and move on with our lives.

Until yesterday.

The devastating tornado that hit Moore on May 20, 2013 is every Okie’s nightmare. I honestly didn’t grasp the severity of the situation until my family in Germany started sending Facebook messages and text messages making sure we were ok. Even my dad and step-mom who lived in Oklahoma for many years were calling and texting, checking on us. That’s when I turned on the news and found out just how destructive this tornado was. I was still getting concerned text messages after Lawton was declared to be in the safe zone of the passing storm.

I’m usually the first to loudly voice my dislike for Oklahoma. Too be fair my complaints are mostly about the extreme heat in the summer time and this fat girl does not do well in heat. However, after witnessing the over whelming outpour of support immediately after the tornado hit has made me so proud to be an Oklahoman. Friends and neighbors helping each other, local universities opening their dorms to those needing shelter and local agencies like the American Red Cross and Salvation Army not only providing assistance but also providing emergency classes to get new volunteers trained immediately for disaster assistance is just amazing. Even celebrities (Kevin Durant of the Oklahoma City Thunder donated $1 million from his family foundation to help those affected) and people through out the country are trying to find ways to help those affected by either having a donation drive or donating money, every little bit helps.

We are Okies and we will get through this together.

If you want to help you can make monetary directly to the American Red Cross by texting REDCROSS to 90999. My understanding is that this type of donation will go into a disaster relief fund so some of the funding will go towards helping with disaster relief in Moore and New Castle, Oklahoma and the rest will go towards future disasters in other areas around the country.

If you want your donations to go directly towards helping those affected by the tornado that hit in Moore, OK you can call the local chapter in Oklahoma City, OK by calling 405-228-9500 or mail your donation to:

The American Red Cross

Central Oklahoma Office

601 NE 6

Oklahoma City, OK 73104

OK Strong Disaster Relief

This is set up with the state of Oklahoma and United Way of Central Oklahoma. They are setting up long-term medical, emotional and educational needs of victims of the May 20, 2013 tornado.

Donations can be made online at www.unitedwayokc.org

Or via phone 405-236-8441

You can also donate $10 to help the Regional Food Bank of Oklahoma by texting FOOD to 32333.

Salvation Army

They are sending out mobile kitchens that can serve meals to 2,500 meals a day. Donations can be made online at Salvation Army or $10 by texting STORM to 80888.

There are so many more organizations to choose from if you would like to help. Just check out this website and I think it’s pretty nifty that you can text monetary donations. Also, check out the American Red Cross chapters and Salvation Army in your local area as they may also have donation drives going on.

Kind of awkward that she had to ask the news reporter for help to get the dog free but super heart warming. Especially when she says that her two prayers were answered after the dog was found.

Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 15 May 2013 02:10:00 +0000

I was reading a recent post by the lurvly Tea over at Unsweetened Tea (you should totally check out the rest of the blog as well) and she wrote about her zombie apocalypse plan and that got me thinking about my plans. A few months ago, “Sean” and I started devising a plan that included the peeps we work with. It started mostly as a joke as in who would be who in the group (ie, leader, the lackey, the muscles, the idiot who gets everyone killed) and then it snow balled to include actual family members and a for real actual plan. FYI, “Sean” nominated himself as group leader and apparently I am the group’s comedic relief. He then quickly retracted that by saying in order for me to be the comedic relief I have to be funny. Don’t worry guys, he may be the leader but we’ll just undermine him and create our own group that will rise out of the ashes like the majestic phoenixes we are!

**Editors Note

Apparently, “Sean” switched my group title from comedic relief (apparently that person is easily dispensable) to food and shelter person. I hope you like sleeping under a pile of leaves while eating candy.

So, here are some things to consider when making a plan for the brain hungry zombies:

Dress code: You want to dress in layers and preferably in camo, since you’ll be frolicking out in the wilderness and what not. Also, you’ll be running so ladies, keep the “do me pumps” at home. I know, I know you want to be all, “Hey, fellas. Check me out.” I’m going to be honest, if I see you in those shoes I will not hesitate to push you, thus making you break your ankle and further thus making you into zombie bait. This also goes for anyone with sagging pants. I will pants you, push you, and laugh as you trip and snap an ankle or something. I may be nice at first, “aw, let me help you along,” but the minute there’s a hoard of zombies I’m drop kicking you to the ground and making a run for it. I AIN’T PLAYIN!

Always carry a toothbrush: I understand the whole world has gone to hell but that doesn’t mean you can’t brush your teeth. I don’t want to deal with your funky breath on top of zombies so get that under control. Also, you can make your toothbrush into a prison shank to stab zombies. However, you may not want to brush your teeth with said toothbrush after you’ve used it to stab a zombie in the brain…

Weapons: Guns, obviously. And when I say guns I don’t mean Nerf Guns, granted “Chris” is a pretty good shot with one when he’s not looking. I still have some PTSD from the “incident.” You will want to limit how often you use the gun because god forbid you get all gun happy the first 10 minutes of the outbreak and now you’re out of ammo, sucker. Also, guns make loud noises and that will attract more of the brain loving zombies. You’ll also want something light weight weapon, such as, crow bar, shovel, or metal pole that you can use in close combat. My light weight weapon of choice would be a baseball bat. That’s just me though. Rope may also come in handy when it comes to escapes, traps and just tying someone up and leaving them in the middle of no where because the bitch ate my candy.

Shelter: If you’re first thought about shelter was a hospital then you have been uninvited from the group. Actually, no, we may need you as bait so don’t go anywhere. Ideally, you’ll want a place like this, however not all of us can afford such a marvelous shelter, unless we all pool our money together. Scratch that, I can already sense a Ten Little Indians scenario brewing. Find a nice place in the country, if people are already inhabiting it, kick them to the curb and hoist your flag up. This is your house now, bitch.

Fitness: This fat girl needs to work on her cardio. God forbid the outbreak includes the rage infected zombie types that are like zombies on crack from 28 Days Later. I would be dead within 2 seconds of that outbreak. Even if it’s with the slow moving Shaun of the Dead, you’ll still want to get that cardio in gear. There’s going to be a lot of running, climbing and hiding out so yeah, get to exercising.

Exactly.

Group Dynamics: Know your role in the group and understand that if you want act all cray cray I will pretend that you were bit and I will either a) devise a plan for zombies to eat you, b) kill you myself, c) spread a rumor that you like Justin Bieber and let the group decide your fate. Just depends on how I feel that day. Also, if you were bit and no one saw it happen, you better accept your fate and speak up. Don’t be mad at the rest of the group because your dumbass got caught and now you want the rest of us to pay for your mistake. If you aren't the group asshat I’ll be nice and wait for you to actually die and shoot you in the brain (and double tap that shit) before you turn. I only expect the same in return, however I doubt it’ll happen.

So, theses are just a few tips. I’m not going to give away all my secrets and I’m too lazy to provide all the in depth details, however if you feel that you would make a good addition to the zombie group then cool. Maybe we should collaborate on some ideas and what not. I don’t know how to end this post. Here, look at this:

Cause this is THRILLLLLLAH! And Harry Potter.

Mission Impossible: Cereal

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 13 May 2013 02:44:00 +0000

My dear, sweet readers, I am so sorry that I’ve been absent for about two weeks. I didn’t realize just how stressed out I would get with completing assignments, and projects, studying for finals and family coming into town for my brothers graduation but hot diggity damn! Anywho, now it’s summer time and I expect the shenanigans levels to return to normal for your reading pleasure.

Speaking of shenanigans, do you ever just fantasize about packing up and moving to a new city? “Chris” and I do and so far our city of choice is Austin, TX. Most of the time it’s just chatting about how much fun it would be to live there considering all the fun activities the city offers but lately we have found ourselves actually looking up the price of rent for lofts in certain areas and even what type of jobs are available. I even found this lovely gem of a job that I kind of want to apply for:

Personal Assistant | Dog Whisperer (Austin)

Seeking a personal assistant who is also excellent with dogs. I am the CEO of a small company and am looking for a responsible, mature person to help with: my two border collie dogs, property management in Austin and the Hill Country, shopping/errands, calendaring, travel arrangements, bill pay, correspondence, etc. You may work from your home, but need to be available/on-call as needed. I would ideally like to find someone who is interested in a personal assistant role as a career path. Candidates should send a resume and a short statement of interest. Thank you for reading this post.

Location: Austin
Compensation: depending on qualifications, up to $36K annually
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

I’m not exactly a dog whisperer, in fact my dogs tend to the opposite of what I say. Like, when a leaf blows by the front window they bark at it like it’s a group of ex-cons that are trying to break into the house and steal their dog treats. So when I tell them, “IT’S A GOD DAMN LEAF TAKE A CHILL PILL AND STOP BARKING!” They pause, look at me and then go back to barking at the leaf. Other than that I think I’m pretty qualified for that position.

We’ve also discovered a loft that has already caused multiple fights between “Chris” and I because of the mega tiny kitchen. We don’t even live there and have already imagined a thousand different scenarios in which we murder each other because of lack of space. Mostly it’s me taking up all the kitchen counter space (based on the pictures it’s not much to begin with) with baking cupcakes and him being upset that he can’t make his precious bowl of cereal. We’ve also wondered if the stove is able to open all the way or if it’s going to hit the counter top in front of it. And this is where the true post begins. This is just one of the scenarios that we’re pretty confident will actually happen. So sit back and enjoy.

Mission Impossible: Cereal

The tiny chirp from the alarm on my phone tells me the time has come and I’m filled with giddy anticipation. I pull the covers from my bed and sit up, reaching for the black boots sitting by my night stand. I know what he’s about to do and I can’t help the sinister grin the spreads across my face. After I’ve laced up my boots I slip on the black leather gloves, adjust the utility belt that sits securely on the waist of my black pants and begin to quietly creep down the stairs. I can already hear the soft pitter patter of his foot steps as he makes his way to the kitchen.

I see him, the roommate, rummaging in the pantry for his box of cereal and I quickly roll and tumble past the door and flatten myself against the wall. I can hear him making his way back into the kitchen and pulling a bowl out of the cabinet. I hold my breath as I peak through the open space to make sure the coast is clear. I pull the grappling hook out of the hiding spot (under the couch) and wait for the moment he begins to pour the Coco Puffs into the bowl before I throw the grappling hook over the cabinet. Once secure, I scale my way up the way and sit atop my perch, quietly securing my harnesses and watching his every move.

Then it happens. He spills a little milk on the side of the bowl and I know that it’s go time. He turns his back and begins to look for the paper towels that I strategically hid and I jump from my hiding spot, my harnesses and cables holding me securely as I fall from the sky. My arms are stretched out and the wind is whipping past me before I come to a sudden stop and smile. I very gently and carefully hold the bowl of tasty cereal in one hand before pressing the ascend button on my fancy utility belt and slowly make my way back up to my hiding spot.

About half way up, it happens. One piece of cereal falls from the bowl and makes a tiny crunch type thump of a sound when it hits the floor. Everything is still. I am completely frozen and suspended in mid air as I can feel the small beads of sweat forming along my forehead. I know I’m caught, there’s no way he didn’t hear that piece of cereal hit the ground. I open one eye and peak and see with a pleasant surprise that “Chris” is still rummaging in the cabinet under the sink for a roll of paper towels. I guess all the noise he’s making, swearing and tossing cleaning supplies around, drowned out the sound of the cereal hitting the floor.

I complete my journey and make my way back to the secret spot. I sit atop my perch and take the spoon out of the pocket of my utility belt and enjoy the bowl of Coco Puffs that “Chris” thoughtfully did not make for me. He finally finds the paper towels only to turn around and discover that all remains is a spoon, spilled milk on the counter and one Coco Puff on the floor.

And here is the ridiculously tiny kitchen. Even when I made the picture bigger the kitchen is still mega tiny.

Tornado

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 03:19:00 +0000

Sorry there hasn’t been a recent update, guys and dolls. I’m trying to piece together my shamblie mess of life right and school has completely taken over. Well, mostly school, a little bit of watching that show Roswell and a smidge of having a daily glaring contest with the white hair that tends to mock me every day I style my hair. You think I’m exaggerating but this white hair that’s just chilling right on the hairline of my forehead is an asshole. It won’t even style with my bangs! Everything looks all nice and put together and this bitch just sticks straight up while screaming, “WHATEVAH, WHATEVAH! I DO WHAT I WANT!”

If you guys follow me on Facebook (if you don’t you should. The link is right over there to your left. No, your other left! LEFT! LEFT! There ya go.) then you may have seen a few updates about a tornado last week. I went to work and the co workers and I were evacuated twice to walk across the parking lot and into the basement of the barracks next door. Yeah, I know it totally makes sense to me too. There’s a tornado but we’re going to need to walk outside and possibly get blown away so you can get to shelter, even though you’re in a building with a perfectly good space to protect yourself that doesn’t smell like ass and feet.

As we moseyed across the parking lot and into the building we noticed that we would not be the only ones there. There was a large group of military members sitting against wall pretty quietly and we came strolling in laughing and giggling like an obnoxious group of school kids. We didn’t know how long we would be there but I made sure to not only grab my purse but my lunch bag, just in case. Some of us had the local news pulled up on our phones and others (me) were getting text messages from family members (mommy) with updates. Mom kept telling me when there was a tornado touch down and when it was heading in my direction. Our new friends started to pass out MRE’s (Meals Ready to Eat) and as I got mine the little plastic brown bag brought back all kinds of memories of field trips in elementary school.

Co-worker dubbed them, "Man candy" and "Chris" stupid hand.

I am, what is often referred to as, an Army Brat. I grew up with my dad being in the military and all of my friends growing up were in the same situation. Sometimes when we went on field trips our parents would give us an MRE for lunch, instead of the traditional snack pack. What is an MRE you ask? This, my friend, is short for Meal Ready to Eat and it’s not the most appetizing thing, ever. However, on this tornado day, stuck in the smelly basement I took the offer of an MRE because these generally come with candy and this fat girl is all about candy. I was massively disappointed to find that my MRE did not come with M&M’s or Skittles. Instead, it came with these cookie texture wheat crackers and cheese spread with bacon. There was some other stuff but it didn’t matter because damnit, this chick wanted M&M’s.

I was really excited.

After about an hour and a half we were given permission to go back to work. Oh happy day. About 15 minutes after we all signed in the tornado sirens started going off again and naturally we all froze in terror and looked to our boss to see if we had to pack up again. He waited about 20 minutes before giving the ok for us to panic, grab our shit and run across the parking lot, again. We met with our new friends again except this time they were just as obnoxious as we were. They even ordered a pizza, twice! And what’s worse, THEY DIDN’T EVEN SHARE! The second time around we decided to stand by the doors and take pictures. Ok, “Chris” and I weren’t exactly standing by the door as much as we were standing in the middle of the parking lot and staring at the really dark, almost black clouds that were heading in our direction. That’s what we do here in tornado alley, we don’t run for cover, instead we stand outside and take pictures. WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA!

The Biebs

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 02:55:00 +0000

I never understood the whole Justin Bieber obsession. Even when he first came out (haha, totally didn’t intend that) and most of the girls (and some of the dudes, you know who you are) were all fan girling over the 13 year Usher “prodigy.” They were all “Oh my gosh he’s so adorable,” and “oh my gosh, I love his music.” And I was like, “oh my gosh! Shoot me in the face.” It also creeps me out when older women fan girl him considering he still looks about 12, even when he’s walking around without a shirt. He just looks like some 12 year old with spray painted abs. Like the ones that one guy you dated a while back did as a way to impress you but instead it just rubbed off on your clothes. Oh, that wasn’t you? My bad, I guess that happened to someone else I know.

While we’re on this topic of the Biebster and his fashion, can someone please explain to me the whole sagging phenomena?? I mean, this giant toddler has brought sagging to a whole new level. Even as a teenager I never thought the whole walk around with your jeans around your ankles in public look was attractive. One time while I was living in Wales I was with a group of friends waiting at the bus stop to go out for the evening. And by going out for the evening I totally mean go to the library and study. Ok, now that I’ve completely fooled the parentals, if they’re reading this, what I was really doing was going out to the pubs so that I could part take in fun times with booze and friends. Anyway, there was this guy with another group of people (mostly girls) and he was SAGGING! It may have been the booze from the pre gaming but something came over me. I slowly walked towards this idiot with his sagging jeans and colorful underwear, grabbed his pants and pulled those bitches down! And everyone at the bus stop laughed at his Sponge Bob underwear. I don’t know why he suddenly felt so modest; we all practically saw his underwear already.

Who finds this attractive?!! And WHY!?!?

BACK TO THE BIEBSTER! He looks like a 12 year old wearing a poopie diaper and girls think this is attractive? Oh, and let’s not forget this is a genius who snuck his pet monkey on a transatlantic flight and was totes surprised when German officials were like, “umm, got documents of this monkey? No, well, we’re going to quarantine it for a while because it could be carrying the rage virus like the monkey from 28 Days Later.” Let’s also not forget his latest comment about Anne Frank. Haven’t heard this one yet?

So, the Biebs is currently in the Netherlands as he has a concert there or something coming up and decides to take a tour of the Anne Frank house. And when I mean he decides to take a tour I mean that his security clears the entire place so he can walk around (monkeyless) without other tourists all up in his biz. He then leaves this gem of a comment in the guest book:

"Truly inspiring to be able to come here. Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a belieber."

I personally think she would be a One Direction fan. At least they don’t wear sagging skinny jeans.

On a completely unrelated note, my thoughts and prayers are with those that were affected by the Boston Marathon explosions.

Oh Mr. Rogers.

I Believe

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 03:53:00 +0000

I love horror movies and I’ll watch about anything except the ones about aliens. They terrify me because I honestly believe that aliens do exist and the movies when the aliens invade Earth and destroy everything could actually happen. To me it seems a little egotistical to believe that we’re the only intelligent life in the entire, gianormous galaxy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those crazy, alien obsessed types that believe every little thing means that an alien was nearby. I have a headache and stomach ache, ALIENS ABDUCTED ME! We all know that I don’t jump to conclusions like that at all. Nope, totally not me, I’m always really calm and rational. Yet, I can totally feel you giving me the side eye. Ok, fine, maybe SOMETIMES I overact.

A few weeks ago “Chris” suggested that I watch the movie, The Fourth Kind. I wanted to watch it when it came out in theaters but I think I faked an excuse after I found out it was about aliens and not demon possession like I had originally thought. As I watched the movie I was also simultaneously texting “Chris” various messages along the lines of. “SWEET BABY JESUS WTF?!?!” and “well that’s unfortunate, OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL?!?” Maybe one of these days I’ll create one of those reaction videos of me watching another terrifying alien movie just for you guys. Maybe not, it’ll just be me with my blanket wrapped around my face and watching the movie with my hands over my eyes while peeking between my fingers.

This is just some background information for the real story I’m about to tell you but first I want to make sure that you’ve seen The Fourth Kind? Ok, good, so you know about the correlation between the owls and aliens. What, you didn’t see the movie? I can’t believe that you lied to me. You haven’t seen the movie and now want me to explain the correlation between owls and aliens? Ok, well you dragged it out of me. The abducties that were in the movie explained that on the nights they woke up at 3:33 am and were abducted, they always saw this barn owl. Sometimes it was sitting outside the window and other times it was actually inside the house just staring at them. It was determined that the aliens use owls as a type of surveillance, a way to watch us before they snatch us up and start probing us in our no-no areas. Ok, now that you’re all caught up I’ll tell you about what happened last night.

I was driving home from work (I work an evening shift 3:30pm-midnight) and as I turned into my neighborhood I noticed this giant, orange ball in the sky. It was pretty far off but it just hung there for a good twenty minutes without moving. It was still just chillin’ in the sky when I pulled up to the house so I did what just about anyone would have done, I stood in the drive way for about 10 minutes staring at it and wondering if it really was aliens. I figured it might be a good idea to have some type of evidence and since my purse is like Mary Poppins bag, it took a few minutes of me fumbling in the dark to find my phone. By the time I looked up it was gone. Not one trace of whatever it was left in the sky.

I’m going to be honest, I was kind of creeped out at this point. I was texting both “Chris” and “Sean” that I was fairly certain whatever it was it could not have been from this earth. As I was walking to the front door I suddenly heard the loud flutter of wings fly past my face, I screamed like a little girl and ran inside the house. I’m pretty sure it was an owl sent to spy on me. I totally heard it screech, “She’s home! The bitch is home!” I know, that was a rude owl.

Here are copies of some of the texts that were sent to “Chris” and “Sean” in my several moments of fear:

“There’s something in the sky.”

“Never mind, it’s gone.”

“I’m scurrrrrrrrrrd!”

“I don’t want the aliens to probe me.”

“DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME!”

“Oh god, I heard something in the back yard. It’s an alien, I know it is.”

So here’s what probably happened. I live next to an army base and the giant, orange orb was probably just a flare from some night training. Also, there was probably a bat or something just hanging out by my house and me stomping up to the house and jingling my keys scared it. I think my version is more plausible.