Wednesday, February 6, 2013

You Googled What?! - Thank Goodness for Vodka

It's time for another edition of You Googled What?! - where I highlight the weird things people google that lead them to my blog. As usual, the googlers did not disappoint. For previous editions, check out the tab at the top!

Cheerleader peeing
This sounds like some sort of sick fetish I don't want to know about. No judgment, though.

Most embarassing condom moment
For me, it's when you misspelled embarrassing. 

don't share your hairbrush or hat
Unless you want to get brain bugs and dieeeeeeee!

how to write a secret society
If we told you, it wouldn't be an a secret anymore. Duh. Honestly, sometimes you just don't think.

sarc, my second favorite asm meaning
This one just makes me sad.

When boobs and a penis meet
This has the makings of a love story! I hope it has a happy ending.

Ew! Wait, not THAT KIND of happy ending. A love story happy ending. You know, where they get married, have ki...never mind. You guys are perverts.

Piss on Chevron
The peeing cheerleader can probably help you out with that.

Wacky modern day miracle for kids
It's not enough that a miracle occurred, it has to be wacky too? Some people are never satisfied.

Insert into my vagina

You're fired cute
FYI, there's no cute way to tell someone they're fired. It just makes you look like an even bigger asshole.

what italian wemen like
We like for you to know how to spell.

put your head in my boobs
Please see answer above re "insert into my vagina."

panic attack infecting my brain in an hour i'll be okay

Twitter's diagram
Finally! I can be of some use. Here's a diagram I made awhile ago to help explain twitter to new users. (click to enlarge)

vodka never disappoints
Thank goodness, cuz after this, I need a drink.

Comment gem!
If you're nice to it, maybe it will one day transform into a sweet ride. And then you can go to balls and things.

(But beware, if seen disembarking such a conveyance people may say you've gone out of your gourd.)

Monday, February 4, 2013

Back With A Vengeance

During my senior year of college, my roommate and I got a pumpkin for Halloween. We didn't carve it because pumpkin homicide is wrong we were lazy.

The pumpkin made it through Halloween and Thanksgiving without rotting. Sometime around Christmas, we put it out on our balcony because taking it down to the dumpster required way too much effort (please reference laziness mentioned above). When we returned from winter break and the pumpkin still hadn't begun to rot I started to suspect it was no ordinary pumpkin.

It was a magical pumpkin! 

A wizard!

Or a superhero!
By February, I had grown quite fond of it so I named it Frances.

Frances and I were special friends. We would go on long walks together and read together and watch t.v. together and play dress up.

Frances was kinda slutty.

Before we knew it, it was April and we were graduating. The real world loomed ahead, with its jobs and responsibilities. To me, it seemed like a scary place, a place where you had to wear pants everyday and people frowned upon pumpkin playmates.

My roommate and I began the arduous task of packing up all our stuff and trying to determine what exactly the sticky stuff in the back of the fridge was. Should we clean it up or leave it for the next inhabitants to deal with?

I'll let you guess what we decided.

Her boyfriend and the fiance (now known as the husband) came to help. I was carefully and methodically tossing beauty products from under the bathroom sink into a box when I heard a noise. A noise very similar to screaming followed by a SPLAT!

What was tha...

No! It couldn't be! Not Frances!

I ran outside to the balcony and looked down to the sidewalk below. There she was, my Frances. Displaying her guts for all the world to see, thanks to my roommate's boyfriend.

I was devastated. I had no doubts Frances would live a very long time, maybe even forever. But here she was, cut down in the prime of her life.

Eventually my heart healed, and I moved on. I'm ashamed to say it, but I even forgot about Frances.

Fast forward to Halloween 2012. The husband and I bought several pumpkins and placed them on the stairs leading up to our front door. Eventually, they began to rot. Every few days we'd come home to find another one had liquified into a pumpkin slushy. Soon, they were all gone.

All but one.

I brought it in the house and placed on the dining room table where it spent Thanksgiving with us. After the feast, I  moved it onto the balcony where it spent Christmas...and New Year's...and Martin Luther King, Jr. day...and here it is, February 4th and It's. Still. Here.

You guys know where I'm going with this, right?


That's not where you thought this was going? I don't know why. It's so obvious that's what happened.

Clearly, Frances wasn't done being a pumpkin and she's back. However, she's seems a little angrier than she used to and she's got these two minions with her (one who seems particularly pissed). Which is why I've named her Frances With A Vengeance.

She's not as fun as she used to be and she definitely doesn't have time for my shenanigans, but it's nice to have her back.

P.S. I didn't really do all those things with Frances. Because that would be weird. And although I was engaged to the husband, he wasn't yet bound to me FOR-EV-ER. Heed my advice ladies. Save the weirdest parts of yourself for after marriage, when your husband is legally required to come home to you every day, and make you milkshakes, and rub your feet. And make outfits out of felt for your pumpkin friend, Frances.

Just kidding.


P.P.S. Husband, if you're reading this, please don't kill Frances With A Vengeance. I'm pretty sure she'll come back as Frances With A Chainsaw and murder us in our sleep.

Comment gem!

I would've so hugged her anyway. I don't stop midhug. Ever. Does that make me the hug date rapist? Cause that doesn't sound like a good thing to be.