Slightly Off Terrible First Date Questions

12 02 2010

5 Things You Would Want If Stranded On A Dessert Island:

1. Spork, appropes for both solid and liquid delights.

2. Wet Naps, in case I get sticky.

3. That chocolate syrup that turns into a hard shell when you put it on ice cream, because you can never be too sure if a dessert island is going to include it.

4. Garbage can, for binging and purging.

5. Diabetes kit, for the daily insulin coma I fall into.

***

5 People You Hope to Eat In Heaven (non-sexual, survival purposes only):

1. William Howard Taft, for the sheer girth.

2. Albert Einstein, for the possible brain osmosis.

3. One of those cloned sheep, to see if there was a difference (assuming animal and people go to the same heaven).

4. That kid who got stuck in the chocolate chute during the Willy Wonka factory tour, because he’s prob delish.

5.  Jimi Hendrix, for the contact high without having to travel to Amsterdam heaven.

***

5 People You Hope to Eat in Heaven (purely sexual):

1. Heath Ledger

2. Andrew Jackson

3. Marie Curie

4. C. Thomas Howell (presuming that neither of us will be in heaven for a while, but that when we are both there, this will happen)

5. Watson, but not Crick.

***

5 Ghosts at Your Ideal Dinner Party:

1., 2., 3. The mean ghosts from “Casper” because, like any smart woman, I think that I could change them into better ghosts. They eat food they can’t digest and shit it all over the floor because they love me, that’s all.

4. Bruce Willis in “The Sixth Sense”, moments before he realizes he’s a ghost, so I can have the pleasure of observing the impending awkward silence and then be like, “More wine?”

5. Ghost of Christmas Present. That guy knows how to party, am I right?!

***

5 Mitch Alboms You Couldn’t Live Without:

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

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Maybe the greatest food discovery known to man

10 11 2009

This will not impress you if you don’t enjoy cream cheese as much as I do.

Are you hungry? Make a bagel and cream cheese.

NO, YOU’RE NOT DONE. I know you think you’re done, but you’re not. You’re close to done, but please, don’t miss this part.

Make a lunchmeat sandwich on top of your bagel and cream cheese. If you are not sure where to start with a sandwich, throw down some ham and American cheese. If you are feeling saucy, you can also add pepperonis to that sandwich, but that’s not a prerequisite in this case.

NO, YOU”RE NOT DONE. Seriously, there is one more step that’s going to take your sandwich sandwich from good to great.

Throw that sandwich squared into the toaster oven for like, 5 minutes. However long it takes to melt your USA Cheese.

NOW YOU ARE DONE.

You have to wait one second for it to cool and then take a bite. It will change your life. It’s like, cream cheese is the new mayonaise, but in a very different sort of way. Your double sammy is going to give you a double whammy in the mouth.

(This is not a great post. But seriously, cream cheese plus sandwich sandwiches have changed my earthly existence.)

————

Question: What college do cows want to go to?

Answer: USCHEESE.

Other acceptable punchlines: The Dairy Force Academy, Anything in the Midwest, Cows Can’t Go To College, They’re Cows.





The Case of the Unclaimed Vomit

29 10 2009

In my effort to reinvigorate my abilities to “blog” and “document” and “beat the unemployment boredom”, this story is one I meant to write about a month ago, when it first happened and when it was still a big mystery. Correction: it still IS a big mystery, but not necessarily one that I think about anymore.

Which is probably good, because I believe I think about throw-up far too often.

The Crime Scene: Ms. Lady’s apartment. Ridge and Davis. Heavenston.

The Set Up: Several friends who have not seen each other in months, some in nearly a year, are gathered for a reunion of sorts. Like any good reunion, this reunion involves yelling and screaming into all hours of the morning and attempting to stay up drinking until 9 AM, when the Lady of the House has to leave to attend the first class of the school year. Flawed? Certainly. But some of us died trying. We made it pretty far into the night. Visits from other people we’ve known throughout our college years peppered the evening, replete with a lot of random pictures taken on a Nintendo DSi, of all things. There was singing. There was dancing. There was a secret tryst or three. There. Was. Chaos.

Circa 6 AM, all of the non-sleepover revelers had dispersed back to their selected homes and those left were the travelers staying over. We all survived another hour or two staying up. The Brothers Maguire passed out first. I stayed up with Ms. Lady until she actually did “pull herself together” (quotes because the effort was strong, but ultimately, not great) and go to class. Thus, I went to sleep around 9 AM, when she was gone and everyone else slumbering.

Dilemma: Sometime between that 9 AM parting and re-awakening around 1 PM to pee, someone in our midsts puked all over the bathroom.

And I don’t mean a little bit. I mean like, swamp conditions. You sunk my battleship sort of puke. It was everywhere. Too drunk/tired/confused/disgusted to do anything about it, I left it, used all of my leg muscles to pee without touching the puke, and went back to my spot on the futon.

Around 4 or 5 pm, everyone woke up and suddenly, the vomit was not as easy to ignore. This is a 3 BR, 1 Bath set-up, my friends. There is only so long that a bathroom can be out of commission with insides debris. After the Lady of the House cleaned up, the question still remained: who woke up in the middle of the night (or mid-morning, to most people), puked all over the place without waking anyone, left it without even an attempt to clean it, went back to bed, and then completely forgot about it?

The case was afoot.

Suspects:

1. Myself. I DIDN’T DO IT. Not only did I not eat enough to do all of that biz, I was asleep last, awake first, and apparently starting to sober up by the time 9 AM rolled around. Also I would’ve at least wiped the seat off. Probably would have left the peripheries as they were, but the seat would’ve been sittable.

2. Lady of the House. Doesn’t remember it. Went to class during the time that she would’ve puked. Although, curiously, she never made it to class and returned from her full day of classes circa 11 AM after giving up on going to class and having brunch with a homeless man instead. Curious indeed. She had the food. She had the time frame. But why wouldn’t she clean up her own bathroom? It doesn’t quite add up.

3. Brother #2. Passed out first, woke up last. Slept through at least 2 hours of conversation taking place right next to him. Didn’t feel this kid even roll over in his sleep on the futon, let alone get up and puke and come back down. Unlikely.

4. Brother #1. Our main suspect. Not the kind of kid who would ever clean up his own puke. Also definitely the kind of kid who pukes everywhere (one time while we were roommates he puked all over his bed and instead of cleaning it up, just put his sheets in a garbage bag and went back to sleep. Left the garbage bag in front of a fan to waft the smell throughout the rest of the house. Awesome). Spilled a glass of wine all over himself and the Lady’s bed and continued to sleep in it that very night. But does not remember vom-ing.

5. The roommate. This kid’s a wildcard. Everyone had just met him. He went to a bar for a long time and then came back – who knows what he could have eaten and dranken there? Pretty sure he puked at the bar though, so would he have had the stamina to continue to puke later in the evening? Seemed to stay in his bedroom throughout the evening. Claims it wasn’t him. Hard to tell.

6. The mystery roommate. In my four days at this apartment, I did not see the third roommate once. Is it possible that she came home for a few hours, puked, didn’t clean it up because she knew she could get away with it, and then left again? Possumbly. Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t rule it out, and neither will Sherlock Hayden.

Case Status: Still unsolved. No one will admit to it. The Lady of the House eventually cleaned it up (why was she so comfortable cleaning up the vomit unless it was her own HMMMM?) and the day continued eventually. All fingers point to Brother #1, even though he will deny it up and down. That shit-eating grin and past experience with projectile lots-of-things-ing in beds/bathrooms/bushes make it a little tough to believe this repeat offender.

All suggestions to solving the case welcome.





Reasons Why I Am So Advanced

2 10 2009

I am fairly convinced that I am more evolved than most humans on earth. Not in a Hitler-y, “You know who I’m better than? Everyone” sort of way, but in a straight up, scientific sort of way.

If you don’t believe in evolution (I’m looking at you, 18 Kids and Counting family, because I know you use your monitored computer time to read this blog and who could blame you?) I think you’re crazy, but I will also respect your right not to believe in basic logic.

1. No appendix. You know what the appendix is good for? nothing. I was told during a routine look at my insides that they couldn’t find any appendix. Pretty sure that is the first step to evolution – losing vestigial organs.

2. No wisdom teeth. Never had to get them removed because they don’t exist. Missing out on what I’m told is a rite of passage into adulthood is fine with me because it led to another rite of passage into adulthood – braces. Not only do I not have wisdom teeth, I don’t have bottom 12 year molars. Not necessary since humans can (and, fingers crossed, will) survive on easily chewed macaroni and cheese.

3. Pale, pale skin. Why would they invent sunscreen if we weren’t supposed to use it? Pale skin = I am literally evolved not to do any work at all that involves toiling in the sun. That IS my doctor’s note, Dad.

4. Small ears. What are the outside of your ears even used for? Nothing, I say. My ears are so small as to be tiptoeing the line of bizarroland. Maybe not that small because they are still pretty adorbs. But, they are small enough to hear (their job) and not much else like get caught on things or cause childhood trauma (not their job).

5. Immune system wackiness. As I understand it, my immune system is so good that it attacks itself. Clearly, a gift from dear Mr. Darwin. In high school, we hypothesized that if I were to contract HIV, I would probably be perfectly healthy, as my crazy immune system and HIV’s immunodeficiencies would cancel each other out. I do not want to test that hypothesis.

——

What is a dentist’s favorite movie?

Answer: LAND OF THE FLOSS.

Acceptable Alternatives: Teeth, Gum and Gumber, Flouriding in Cars with Boys.