I want to say I'm sorry in advance, but I'm bored and I love cheap wine.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Things That Piss Me Off
Here it is, top 10 things that irritate the ever livin' outta me.
WARNING: I use some of the swears in this.
10. Idiots who say they will be there in 20 minutes, then arrive 2 hours later.Seriously, you have a cell phone. Fucking use it. Don't give me that "Ooooh I was on the phone with my cousin forever before I left" well, if that happens you call and say "sorry, I'm running behind" I truly don't get people sometimes. Am I the only person who likes to update people about where I'm at and how long I'll be, etc? Am I the only courteous person left on this damned planet?
9. People who speed up to pass you, then go 5 over the speed limit. Screw you. You're a prick and nobody likes you. If you feel the need to pass me, pass me like you're SERIOUSLY pissed off at me because I'm only going 10 over, flick me off and try and drive me off the road. That passive aggressive pass-then-slow thing really has to stop. Does this only happen in Minnesota? I know we are the passive aggressive state.
8. People who don't have their ID or money ready while in a line. Do you really need to stand there and watch the cashier scan everything before you pull out your money or credit card? With money I kind of get it, you might not know the exact total but if you're one of the bazillion people who have a credit card, why are you protecting it and hiding it like its one of Michael Jackon's children? The world seriously won't start to crumble underneath you if you break that puppy out right away. Oh, PS? REMEMBER WHERE YOU PUT YOUR CREDIT CARD. I know a few people who toss it in their purse. You have a wallet, use it. And use it wisely. Don't over pack the slots for the cards, so they are easily accessible. If you over pack 5 slots you already have issues. You really don't need a card for every place you shop at.
7. Men. I have yet to meet one who I haven't hated to any degree (sorry). I might not hate them as a person, possibly a situation I'm in with them even would more than likely make me dislike them to a certain degree. I've talked to a few men who are nice and sweet but have I actually hung out with them in a social setting? No. Thats when you know if a man is a douche or not. They can be Casanova on the phone, e-mail, txt, blog, tweet, facebook status, messenger pigeon but once you are face to face with them...their true idiosyncrasy shows. I guess that goes for everyone, but I really like picking on men.
6. People who blog. I guess I piss myself off. I'm pretentious. I love reading what I have to say because I don't hear it enough when I tell myself I'm fucking awesome. Here, let me show you how witty I am. And I know all the hip new places to hang out, all the hole in the wall mom and pa shops that have the best pie, and yes I've tried that new mirco brew and it wasn't that good. Oh and cupcake shops are totally so 2009.
5. Sarcastic people. Once again, I guess I piss myself off. But here is the thing, have you ever been so pissed off at something but the sheer brilliance of the said thing you are pissed at makes you love that thing/person/situation that much more just because it was sarcasm filled? What can I say, I love dry humor. I love people who are pricks just to get a rise out of someone. I do fancy myself a sarcasm-a-thon from time to time.
4. People who dislikes someone just because their intelligence level isn't as low as theirs. I'm sorry, sometimes people say things that go over other peoples heads, and in return they get dumbfounded and feel stupid. It isn't that persons fault that you don't get it. (easily something like sarcasm, most people can't grasp onto that) So please, don't go and be mean to them because your mind just folded in on itself.
3. Car Alarms. Yes, the noise is so annoying usually the person breaking into your car will run off like they are a scared dog. But when I'm trying to sleep and it goes off for two hours,...yeah.....that isn't my idea of a good time. Can't someone make a car alarm that goes on your keys and it makes the same exact noise so it informs said car owner of said possible car break-in? Is there something like that? If so make it cheap enough so someone that has a 98 Dodge Neon can sleep sound knowing their precious piece of shit car won't get stolen.
2. Sports. Why do I even take my time to watch this shit? I remember when I was younger I watched it just for the sake of watching it. I started getting into it because I was the second child, and I wasn't a boy so my dad made damn sure he'd get me into sports because I think he wished I was a boy. I didn't care about the numbers, transactions, or rumors. When I watched football as a kid I saw two teams, and a ball. I saw whoever scored the most won. I was sold, thats all I needed and had to know. I didn't give two fucks about off sides calls, or illegal formation. Once you get older it loses that magic.
You obsess. You get way too into it. But I guess thats what happens when you get passionate about sports. One sport I can always count on is baseball for some reason, because I refuse to get into saber-metrics. People who do that have too much time on their hands. I love the sport for the history, and the feeling I get when I'm at the park. I don't need no score-card-keeping saber-metrics Nazi all up in my grill while I'm trying to eat a hot dog and drink a beer. Let me scream at Nick Swisher in peace, thank you. PS: people who judge a pitcher by their wins and loses should be punched.
1. Splenda. You chemically transformed sugar wanna be! You taste like chlorine. And don't give me that bullshit, your body can't process something that doesn't know what it is. Think of how many housewives drink Diet Coke thinking it'll keep them 'slim'. Does everyone wonder why recently cancer has been becoming more and more frequent? My theory is that your body doesn't know what the shit to do with the over consumption of this so called 'sugar substitute' so it stores it and fucks with your chemicals in your body. It's like getting a calcium deposit, but chemically engineered sugar attacks the weak cells in your body, transforming it into cancer. See, this is what I think about late at night. I really wish I could think about boys....or Jersey Shore.
If you ended up reading all of that, I'm sorry. But here is a present! Lets get happy and watch a cute cat trying to contact its cat overlords in its great attempt to signal the start of the catalocalypse!
WARNING: I use some of the swears in this.
10. Idiots who say they will be there in 20 minutes, then arrive 2 hours later.Seriously, you have a cell phone. Fucking use it. Don't give me that "Ooooh I was on the phone with my cousin forever before I left" well, if that happens you call and say "sorry, I'm running behind" I truly don't get people sometimes. Am I the only person who likes to update people about where I'm at and how long I'll be, etc? Am I the only courteous person left on this damned planet?
9. People who speed up to pass you, then go 5 over the speed limit. Screw you. You're a prick and nobody likes you. If you feel the need to pass me, pass me like you're SERIOUSLY pissed off at me because I'm only going 10 over, flick me off and try and drive me off the road. That passive aggressive pass-then-slow thing really has to stop. Does this only happen in Minnesota? I know we are the passive aggressive state.
8. People who don't have their ID or money ready while in a line. Do you really need to stand there and watch the cashier scan everything before you pull out your money or credit card? With money I kind of get it, you might not know the exact total but if you're one of the bazillion people who have a credit card, why are you protecting it and hiding it like its one of Michael Jackon's children? The world seriously won't start to crumble underneath you if you break that puppy out right away. Oh, PS? REMEMBER WHERE YOU PUT YOUR CREDIT CARD. I know a few people who toss it in their purse. You have a wallet, use it. And use it wisely. Don't over pack the slots for the cards, so they are easily accessible. If you over pack 5 slots you already have issues. You really don't need a card for every place you shop at.
7. Men. I have yet to meet one who I haven't hated to any degree (sorry). I might not hate them as a person, possibly a situation I'm in with them even would more than likely make me dislike them to a certain degree. I've talked to a few men who are nice and sweet but have I actually hung out with them in a social setting? No. Thats when you know if a man is a douche or not. They can be Casanova on the phone, e-mail, txt, blog, tweet, facebook status, messenger pigeon but once you are face to face with them...their true idiosyncrasy shows. I guess that goes for everyone, but I really like picking on men.
6. People who blog. I guess I piss myself off. I'm pretentious. I love reading what I have to say because I don't hear it enough when I tell myself I'm fucking awesome. Here, let me show you how witty I am. And I know all the hip new places to hang out, all the hole in the wall mom and pa shops that have the best pie, and yes I've tried that new mirco brew and it wasn't that good. Oh and cupcake shops are totally so 2009.
5. Sarcastic people. Once again, I guess I piss myself off. But here is the thing, have you ever been so pissed off at something but the sheer brilliance of the said thing you are pissed at makes you love that thing/person/situation that much more just because it was sarcasm filled? What can I say, I love dry humor. I love people who are pricks just to get a rise out of someone. I do fancy myself a sarcasm-a-thon from time to time.
4. People who dislikes someone just because their intelligence level isn't as low as theirs. I'm sorry, sometimes people say things that go over other peoples heads, and in return they get dumbfounded and feel stupid. It isn't that persons fault that you don't get it. (easily something like sarcasm, most people can't grasp onto that) So please, don't go and be mean to them because your mind just folded in on itself.
3. Car Alarms. Yes, the noise is so annoying usually the person breaking into your car will run off like they are a scared dog. But when I'm trying to sleep and it goes off for two hours,...yeah.....that isn't my idea of a good time. Can't someone make a car alarm that goes on your keys and it makes the same exact noise so it informs said car owner of said possible car break-in? Is there something like that? If so make it cheap enough so someone that has a 98 Dodge Neon can sleep sound knowing their precious piece of shit car won't get stolen.
2. Sports. Why do I even take my time to watch this shit? I remember when I was younger I watched it just for the sake of watching it. I started getting into it because I was the second child, and I wasn't a boy so my dad made damn sure he'd get me into sports because I think he wished I was a boy. I didn't care about the numbers, transactions, or rumors. When I watched football as a kid I saw two teams, and a ball. I saw whoever scored the most won. I was sold, thats all I needed and had to know. I didn't give two fucks about off sides calls, or illegal formation. Once you get older it loses that magic.
You obsess. You get way too into it. But I guess thats what happens when you get passionate about sports. One sport I can always count on is baseball for some reason, because I refuse to get into saber-metrics. People who do that have too much time on their hands. I love the sport for the history, and the feeling I get when I'm at the park. I don't need no score-card-keeping saber-metrics Nazi all up in my grill while I'm trying to eat a hot dog and drink a beer. Let me scream at Nick Swisher in peace, thank you. PS: people who judge a pitcher by their wins and loses should be punched.
1. Splenda. You chemically transformed sugar wanna be! You taste like chlorine. And don't give me that bullshit, your body can't process something that doesn't know what it is. Think of how many housewives drink Diet Coke thinking it'll keep them 'slim'. Does everyone wonder why recently cancer has been becoming more and more frequent? My theory is that your body doesn't know what the shit to do with the over consumption of this so called 'sugar substitute' so it stores it and fucks with your chemicals in your body. It's like getting a calcium deposit, but chemically engineered sugar attacks the weak cells in your body, transforming it into cancer. See, this is what I think about late at night. I really wish I could think about boys....or Jersey Shore.
If you ended up reading all of that, I'm sorry. But here is a present! Lets get happy and watch a cute cat trying to contact its cat overlords in its great attempt to signal the start of the catalocalypse!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
1...2....3......Cuteness Explosion!
Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!
-insert heart melt here-
Monday, October 18, 2010
Oh, Craigslist.
Sometimes people who are funny get on Craigslist, and they make a funny post. This is one.
--Click this guy right here--
SO then I decided to make one of my own:
Boom.
--Click this guy right here--
SO then I decided to make one of my own:
Boom.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Things I've Learned / Things I Know
- Brett Michaels is a zombie.
- Yankees are the anti christ.
- Clocks that make noise every hour should be outlawed and burned at town square.
- Water is the best thing in the world, ever.
- Happiness is not a warm gun, Lennon/McCartney.
- Having a sexual attraction for a fake serial killer would be considered a 'problem'. But really, how can you NOT like Dexter Morgan?
- Every time I see a band I liked long before everyone else on VH1 or MTV, I die a little inside. Also, I think every time that happens an actual Hipster dies too.
- I don't care how much wood a woodchuck can chuck. It doesn't involve me.
- I miss my parents.
- I still don't understand why women like guys who sound like women when they sing.
- long tailed sylph = coolest bird in all the land.
- Seinfeld is funny.
- If you don't sleep with pillows you don't deserve to sleep in a bed.
- If you own all of the Saw's you should be curb stomped.
And now your daily dose of 'Awwww':
- Yankees are the anti christ.
- Clocks that make noise every hour should be outlawed and burned at town square.
- Water is the best thing in the world, ever.
- Happiness is not a warm gun, Lennon/McCartney.
- Having a sexual attraction for a fake serial killer would be considered a 'problem'. But really, how can you NOT like Dexter Morgan?
- Every time I see a band I liked long before everyone else on VH1 or MTV, I die a little inside. Also, I think every time that happens an actual Hipster dies too.
- I don't care how much wood a woodchuck can chuck. It doesn't involve me.
- I miss my parents.
- I still don't understand why women like guys who sound like women when they sing.
- long tailed sylph = coolest bird in all the land.
- Seinfeld is funny.
- If you don't sleep with pillows you don't deserve to sleep in a bed.
- If you own all of the Saw's you should be curb stomped.
And now your daily dose of 'Awwww':
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wild rice so-- erm. I mean Black Japonica soup.
Someone went and did something stupid. I couldn't find the wild rice brand I wanted, so I asked a random and picked up the bag of rice (that I purchased) and said its cheaper and tastes the same.
I started cooking my soup today.
I put the Japonica into the water.
I walked away to go get the chicken bouillon.
I turned back to the pot and saw this:
Pitch black water. I stared at it for a while thinking Tim Curry would pop out of it (think 'Fern Gully'), decided to take a picture of it then googled the shit out of "Black Japonica" and I got this:
http://recipes.wikia.com/wiki/Black_japonica_rice
So, do I make this rice into a thicker soup? Or should I go to the grocery store and buy actual wild rice?
The dangerous side of me wants to try and make this Asian rice into an amazing soup.
But the Indian in me is getting very pissed off.
UPDATE!!: The soup is possibly the best I've made, ever. And its better than any 'wild rice' soup I've had. Yes, even better than Lund's. I think its the local heavy whipping cream I used. Mmmmmm.
I started cooking my soup today.
I put the Japonica into the water.
I walked away to go get the chicken bouillon.
I turned back to the pot and saw this:
Pitch black water. I stared at it for a while thinking Tim Curry would pop out of it (think 'Fern Gully'), decided to take a picture of it then googled the shit out of "Black Japonica" and I got this:
http://recipes.wikia.com/wiki/Black_japonica_rice
So, do I make this rice into a thicker soup? Or should I go to the grocery store and buy actual wild rice?
The dangerous side of me wants to try and make this Asian rice into an amazing soup.
But the Indian in me is getting very pissed off.
UPDATE!!: The soup is possibly the best I've made, ever. And its better than any 'wild rice' soup I've had. Yes, even better than Lund's. I think its the local heavy whipping cream I used. Mmmmmm.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Boredom.
This is what boredom looks like.
I laid half on the couch with my legs on the wall. Because I'm a regular human being and thats what regular humans do when they want to 'chillax'.
So, tomorrow I'll be making home made wild rice soup. It'll be my first time trying so lets hope that goes well. I'm kind of sick of eating pita, hummus, whole wheat bread, nutella, greek yogurt, salad, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But I will never, I repeat.....NEVER get sick of eating those Limon chips. I will seriously eat them like they are going out of style because my luck, they'll discontinue them or stop carrying them at my local ghettomart.
Random: Next week I'm thinking of tackling home made pizza. With of course trader Joe's pizza dough. I tried it once, and now I have acid-flashback-esque well uhm, flashbacks of it.
More random: I bought a dragon fruit. I've never had dragon fruit. If its anything like the best fruit ever to grace this planet I'll be pleased. Also, next time I go to The Wedge I'll be picking up miniature kiwis. I remember I stopped eating kiwis because I had an allergic reaction when I was 12, but hey....I can get past the itchy tongue, throat, and dry mouth.
Watching:
+This season of Dexter makes me mad. But I nominate Micheal C. Hall for being the most sexually attractive ginger in all the land.
+GLEE. GLEE. -insert something teenie bopperish I would have said 10 years ago-
+I started watching Arrested Development again since my reoccuring crush on Will Arnett is at a firey all-time high. Plus I missed it, and I cannot wait for the movie.
+Holy....holy, South Park. Matt Parker and Trey Stone want to get shot. I think making obnoxious over the top cartoons is a plea from them both. They want to get shot. If you didn't watch tonights episode, I suggest you keep an open mind and realize it isn't 'too soon' anymore. You'll understand what I meant after you watch it. There, I just gave you a homework assignment.
+Minnesota sports break my metaphorical balls.
Tata for now.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Chip Count
As I was gallivanting around my new neighborhood I noticed a corner market, its doors and windows caged like there should be animals inside of it. The individuals spilling out were a combination of Gary Busey and your typical hipster kid. Curious, like a cat I went inside.
I always liked corner markets. Some call them ghetto, I call them miniature diamonds in the rough. If I didn't go inside I wouldn't have found the epic plethora of chips they had on display. I'm not a chip gal, per say but I do enjoy a crispy treat from time to time. I stood there and picked one out....then another..and another....
Needless to say I picked 4 bags. SO, I guess for the time being I am a chip gal.
Now I shall rate them on taste, bag creativity, bag smell, crispiness, chip size and addictiveness.
Kettle Brand Spicy Thai
Bag Creativity: It looks like a 3rd grader with MS Paint did it. Yes if you enjoy simplicity by all means, love this bag. But I do love the color red.
Bag Smell: Thai-y. You can spot on smell the ginger right off the bat.
Crispiness: Its kettle cooked so you'd expect a nice crunch. And that, you do.
Chip Size: Nothing too snazzy, regular sized chips, the kind you'd expect thats kettle cooked.
Taste: Each bite you taste another flavor, just like in thai food it has many spices. Which leads me to...
Addictiveness: You'll want to eat the whole bag, but the grease factor sets in and being the smart person you are you'll settle for about 5 handfuls.
Sylvia's Honey Jalapeño
Bag Creativity: It makes me feel weird. Since there are Packers and Vikings colors on the bag. Sylvia, you must be a Saints fan. But I guess Sylvia is the "Queen Of Soul Food" welp, last time I checked chips aren't full of soul.
Bag Smell: Smells like chips. I'm kind of bored with it.
Crispiness: Not that crispy, kind of feels like you're biting into a soft pillow that melts in your mouth. My soul feels lifted. (Good job, Syl.)
Chip Size: Most of them are about the size of a 8 month year olds fist. (sorry only thing I could really compare it to)
Taste: Nothing too snazzy here, has a bit of a bite to it but the honey evens the spice out nicely.
Addictiveness: I wouldn't sit down and eat a whole bag of these. BUT, Sylvia you did a good job.
Vinter's "The Original" "Louisiana" The Perfect HOT SAUCE 'One Drop Does It' Potato Chips!!
Bag Creativity: First off, awesome product placement. I saw this bag and I automatically got excited. But then I read its "naturally delicious"....wait. How so? Now I'm confused. Also, it seems like "V" from V For Vendetta also sponsors these chips. THEN you got this guy:
There is so much business on this bag I don't think I want to eat these chips anymore. I mean, this guy here Vinnie is sweating. I don't want to sweat while I eat. My dad does that and its disgusting.
Bag Smell: It smells like Louisiana Hot Sauce. My nose now has a vendetta against me. Ooooooh, I see why the "V" is there now.
Crispiness: It has a good ol fashioned crunch. Not the chip that'll rip the roof of your mouth like Cap'n Crunch.
Chip Size: I think I sat on this bag....moving on.
Taste: SPICY. Just like its sauce form it makes your mouth feel tingly.
Addictiveness: If I could put chicken on these, I would.
Lays Limón
Bag Creativity: I love the green. The awkwardness that is chips near limes sucked me into buying this bag. I mean really? Lime? Seriously? Is this real life?
Bag Smell: Smells like a regular ol' bag of Lays.
Crispiness: Has that light crispy airness that we all know and love.
Chip Size: You know how it goes with lays, crumbles on the bottom that are mini jihad's to your gumline, regular sized chips and about 4 Andre The Giant chips.
Taste: Oh my god. Oh. My. God. This is bliss, where have these been my whole life!? I want to bathe in them. No, I really don't but....you get the idea.
Addictiveness: This bag is now gone, and I'm automatically sad about this. So more of these need to be bought. MAS LIMON PAPITAS FRITAS, POR FAVOR! You must find these, and consume them. Thank me later.
I always liked corner markets. Some call them ghetto, I call them miniature diamonds in the rough. If I didn't go inside I wouldn't have found the epic plethora of chips they had on display. I'm not a chip gal, per say but I do enjoy a crispy treat from time to time. I stood there and picked one out....then another..and another....
Needless to say I picked 4 bags. SO, I guess for the time being I am a chip gal.
Now I shall rate them on taste, bag creativity, bag smell, crispiness, chip size and addictiveness.
Kettle Brand Spicy Thai
Bag Creativity: It looks like a 3rd grader with MS Paint did it. Yes if you enjoy simplicity by all means, love this bag. But I do love the color red.
Bag Smell: Thai-y. You can spot on smell the ginger right off the bat.
Crispiness: Its kettle cooked so you'd expect a nice crunch. And that, you do.
Chip Size: Nothing too snazzy, regular sized chips, the kind you'd expect thats kettle cooked.
Taste: Each bite you taste another flavor, just like in thai food it has many spices. Which leads me to...
Addictiveness: You'll want to eat the whole bag, but the grease factor sets in and being the smart person you are you'll settle for about 5 handfuls.
Sylvia's Honey Jalapeño
Bag Creativity: It makes me feel weird. Since there are Packers and Vikings colors on the bag. Sylvia, you must be a Saints fan. But I guess Sylvia is the "Queen Of Soul Food" welp, last time I checked chips aren't full of soul.
Bag Smell: Smells like chips. I'm kind of bored with it.
Crispiness: Not that crispy, kind of feels like you're biting into a soft pillow that melts in your mouth. My soul feels lifted. (Good job, Syl.)
Chip Size: Most of them are about the size of a 8 month year olds fist. (sorry only thing I could really compare it to)
Taste: Nothing too snazzy here, has a bit of a bite to it but the honey evens the spice out nicely.
Addictiveness: I wouldn't sit down and eat a whole bag of these. BUT, Sylvia you did a good job.
Vinter's "The Original" "Louisiana" The Perfect HOT SAUCE 'One Drop Does It' Potato Chips!!
Bag Creativity: First off, awesome product placement. I saw this bag and I automatically got excited. But then I read its "naturally delicious"....wait. How so? Now I'm confused. Also, it seems like "V" from V For Vendetta also sponsors these chips. THEN you got this guy:
There is so much business on this bag I don't think I want to eat these chips anymore. I mean, this guy here Vinnie is sweating. I don't want to sweat while I eat. My dad does that and its disgusting.
Bag Smell: It smells like Louisiana Hot Sauce. My nose now has a vendetta against me. Ooooooh, I see why the "V" is there now.
Crispiness: It has a good ol fashioned crunch. Not the chip that'll rip the roof of your mouth like Cap'n Crunch.
Chip Size: I think I sat on this bag....moving on.
Taste: SPICY. Just like its sauce form it makes your mouth feel tingly.
Addictiveness: If I could put chicken on these, I would.
Lays Limón
Bag Creativity: I love the green. The awkwardness that is chips near limes sucked me into buying this bag. I mean really? Lime? Seriously? Is this real life?
Bag Smell: Smells like a regular ol' bag of Lays.
Crispiness: Has that light crispy airness that we all know and love.
Chip Size: You know how it goes with lays, crumbles on the bottom that are mini jihad's to your gumline, regular sized chips and about 4 Andre The Giant chips.
Taste: Oh my god. Oh. My. God. This is bliss, where have these been my whole life!? I want to bathe in them. No, I really don't but....you get the idea.
Addictiveness: This bag is now gone, and I'm automatically sad about this. So more of these need to be bought. MAS LIMON PAPITAS FRITAS, POR FAVOR! You must find these, and consume them. Thank me later.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
AGH!
I've come to the conclusion that I think Northfield is a cute little quaint town with friendly people that I absolutely 100% fucking loathe.
I just wanted to let that out.
I need MSP in my life, asap or I'm going to go C-R-A-Z-Y.
This place reminds me of a town where they all murder people in their basements but act like everything is hunky dory. Yes I'd rather be calmed with the sense that the guy standing next to me on the bus might have a gun, than walk around and everyone smiling at me. I am aware this guy might have a gun who more than likely smokes pot and deals drugs. So I know to steer clear. But here? No, you don't have that obviousness. This place is filled with drugs but nobody knows, or acts like they know. Now THAT scares me.
Creeper fest.
I can't take it.
I'm just a city girl at heart. Or a paranoid schizo. Or both. Or I'm getting cabin fever. Or the combination of all that will result in me spontaneously combusting into flames.
No bueno.
In other news, I drunkenly caught a foul ball at the Twins game. Fun times were had. Oh weird, fun times....in the city? I know. So far fetched. I must go now, my minutes at the library are running out. Back to hell I go.
I just wanted to let that out.
I need MSP in my life, asap or I'm going to go C-R-A-Z-Y.
This place reminds me of a town where they all murder people in their basements but act like everything is hunky dory. Yes I'd rather be calmed with the sense that the guy standing next to me on the bus might have a gun, than walk around and everyone smiling at me. I am aware this guy might have a gun who more than likely smokes pot and deals drugs. So I know to steer clear. But here? No, you don't have that obviousness. This place is filled with drugs but nobody knows, or acts like they know. Now THAT scares me.
Creeper fest.
I can't take it.
I'm just a city girl at heart. Or a paranoid schizo. Or both. Or I'm getting cabin fever. Or the combination of all that will result in me spontaneously combusting into flames.
No bueno.
In other news, I drunkenly caught a foul ball at the Twins game. Fun times were had. Oh weird, fun times....in the city? I know. So far fetched. I must go now, my minutes at the library are running out. Back to hell I go.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Current Obsessions:
The majestic Little Blue Penguin (also known as a Fairy Penguin) dressed in Bill Cosby sweaters:
Want, please.
And I can't forget shitty soundtracks:
Want, please.
And I can't forget shitty soundtracks:
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Art v. 1.0
........or something along the lines of 'art' :
His face is filled with fright and horror. It's because of his shitty drawn arms.
Ewing. He is socially awkward, and no that is not his penis.
His face is filled with fright and horror. It's because of his shitty drawn arms.
Ewing. He is socially awkward, and no that is not his penis.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Dejavuvuzela
WARNING: I have been running on 5 hours of sleep the past two days. Anything I say does not, I repeat DOES NOT represent me and my mental state in day-to-day circumstances. Only the funny and witty parts represent me, not the parts that might sound like I've had a few too many. This quite possibly might be too difficult to decipher between the two. That is a secondary warning. See now I'm rambling.
ANYWAYS.
I was in my garage rummaging around looking through boxes I didn't even unpack during the last move, finding some hilarious stuff. I really forgot how obsessed I was with *NSYNC in my teen years. But then I started listening to Dashboard and Weezer and grew metaphorical good-music-taste balls....or something.
ANYWAYS.
I wanted to take a break and lay outside and get some sun kisses. So I did just that on our lovely crab grass. Not the best thing to lay on, very itchy.
I settle onto the crab grass getting as comfortable as I can shutting my eyes, smelling the damp humid air and feeling of the humidity take grasp of my skin, breathing in the thick air and feeling the sun leave its marks across the bridge of my nose and cheeks. Then all a sudden I start hearing this humming/buzz noise. For a second I thought someone was blaring a replay of a soccer match played earlier in the day. I tilt my head up seeing a beehive attached to the lower part of the house. How close was it you ask? The proximity of said beehive was raping my 'personal space'....let's just put it that way.
Thousands of mini winged-and-sharp-butt'ed-vuvuzela's within feet from my body. I panic laying there frozen since not even an hour earlier I had a peanut butter and honey sandwich.
(they would automatically think my mouth is the entrance to their hive of doom)
"Maybe if I don't move, they won't see me" I think to myself. "Kind of like a dinosaur" mumbling to myself, reassuring I'll be fine and not get all Macaulay Culkin'd. I got bored with being dramatic so I got up and booked it inside. Pretty simple right?
Needless to say,I'm kind of happy I'm moving. There has been too many close encounters with winged creatures at my current place of residence.
BzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzZzzzzzzz.
PS: GO OOH-ESS-AY!
ANYWAYS.
I was in my garage rummaging around looking through boxes I didn't even unpack during the last move, finding some hilarious stuff. I really forgot how obsessed I was with *NSYNC in my teen years. But then I started listening to Dashboard and Weezer and grew metaphorical good-music-taste balls....or something.
ANYWAYS.
I wanted to take a break and lay outside and get some sun kisses. So I did just that on our lovely crab grass. Not the best thing to lay on, very itchy.
I settle onto the crab grass getting as comfortable as I can shutting my eyes, smelling the damp humid air and feeling of the humidity take grasp of my skin, breathing in the thick air and feeling the sun leave its marks across the bridge of my nose and cheeks. Then all a sudden I start hearing this humming/buzz noise. For a second I thought someone was blaring a replay of a soccer match played earlier in the day. I tilt my head up seeing a beehive attached to the lower part of the house. How close was it you ask? The proximity of said beehive was raping my 'personal space'....let's just put it that way.
Thousands of mini winged-and-sharp-butt'ed-vuvuzela's within feet from my body. I panic laying there frozen since not even an hour earlier I had a peanut butter and honey sandwich.
(they would automatically think my mouth is the entrance to their hive of doom)
"Maybe if I don't move, they won't see me" I think to myself. "Kind of like a dinosaur" mumbling to myself, reassuring I'll be fine and not get all Macaulay Culkin'd. I got bored with being dramatic so I got up and booked it inside. Pretty simple right?
Needless to say,I'm kind of happy I'm moving. There has been too many close encounters with winged creatures at my current place of residence.
BzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzZzzzzzzz.
PS: GO OOH-ESS-AY!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
They Call Me The Hiphopopotamus
My lyrics are bottomless..........
And I also loathe packing. I've been to the liquor store (to get boxes) so many times it probably looks like I'm a raging alcoholic. All those people standing outside by the bus stop every day around 2pm in front of the liquor store. Watching me drag boxes to my car packing as many as I can in. I must look super-human stacking 4 boxes on top of each other per trip. They probably think it's all the cocaine/meth/sharpie inhalation I do that helps me with said box transport. Since in their mind I am a raging alcoholic, might as well add to the supposed substance abuse. They probably think I kill kittens too.
(note: this is what a paranoid person sounds like)
And now I'll go watch more Flight of The Conchords, instead of doing what I should be doing. That is the Karlee way.
My beats are fly and the birds are on my back, and I'm horny. I'm horny.
And I also loathe packing. I've been to the liquor store (to get boxes) so many times it probably looks like I'm a raging alcoholic. All those people standing outside by the bus stop every day around 2pm in front of the liquor store. Watching me drag boxes to my car packing as many as I can in. I must look super-human stacking 4 boxes on top of each other per trip. They probably think it's all the cocaine/meth/sharpie inhalation I do that helps me with said box transport. Since in their mind I am a raging alcoholic, might as well add to the supposed substance abuse. They probably think I kill kittens too.
(note: this is what a paranoid person sounds like)
And now I'll go watch more Flight of The Conchords, instead of doing what I should be doing. That is the Karlee way.
My beats are fly and the birds are on my back, and I'm horny. I'm horny.
A Change of Scenery
My whole life I've lived close to Minneapolis, never further than a 15 minute drive to the city limits. Now, on Wednesday I will be an hour away.
AN HOUR AWAY.
JGHSJAHyfsdughp;fhvgsjhagJ;KHFBJFKDH AGHHHHHH /angry keyboard mash
Okay, it isn't a big deal (it is) I love the country (in small amounts) and everyone in small towns seem nice (but hate welcoming new folk) and it is a college town (drunken idiots littering the street(s) (haven't checked if there was more than one street)) so I guess it won't be too bad right? (run, run Karlee. RUN!) I mean, I will be living with my cousin, and I will be near my parents, sister, and nephew. I love my family to death. I am such a family person it's kind of frightening. Would it be stupid to say my parents are my best friends? To some, yes that might come off as super Danny Tanner-ish but I mean really. They are the bee's knees.
May I point out that I am a city girl through and through, I love me some small towns and beautiful scenery, don't get me wrong. But I am the type that needs to be constantly stimulated with something. I enjoy sound, I enjoy the buzz a city gives off. I love always having something to do, within reach.
I'm moving down there because I really do need a fresh start, my life has changed so much the past few years and this is one of the final steps. I am scared and excited at the same time, I keep laying in bed wondering how I will like it, if I will have one of my classic drama-panic-attacks and run to my parents wanting hugs. I'm a big girl, suck it up Karlee. Don't let that nasty crawly feeling in your chest and bones get the best of you.
If I pussy out I will kick my ass, so hard. So wicked hard. But no need to worry because I'm a tough-ass-mamma-jamma.
Minneapolis, we have had a torrid, mind blowing, sensual love affair. Sadly, I won't be seeing you as much as I used to. I need to move on. I need to grow up. I know I know...shh...shhh....it's okay. It's not you, it's me.
Friends?
--------------------------------------------------
AND NOW for your daily dose of adorable:
I can haz in human form plz? K thanxbai.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
You CAN Love Inanimate Objects
....because sweet mother of pearl this is the best inanimate object, ever.
Great for teas and cocoa.
I am not coffee friendly anymore.
ILoveMyPenguinCup.
Even if Sidney Crosby offered me tons of monies,
I'd never sell you, ohhhh whooaaaah ohh!
Sweet cup-o-mine.
PS: Guns N Roses suck.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Being Bested by Vermin
One could call me an animal lover, no...one who likes animals. Actually, scratch that. Animals who are tame. Yes, thats it. So I like animals who are accepted in a place with four walls with a door and a lock. So this excludes a lot of animals. But that is also wrong, since I think one who has mice or other vermin for that matter for a pet needs therapy of some sorts*, or possibly they are practicing for their future job as the person who tests things on animals. Yet they are some-what adorable, don't you think? Looking at me like they want to recite me a damn shakespearean sonnet. NO, you belong in the fields. Not in a cage, nor between my walls making scary noises. Stop wiggling that tiny little nose of yours, squeaking at me thinking I know your mouse-speak. NO. DO NOT WANT.
(this last paragraph has given me ameliorative progress in figuring out my deep seeded hate for mice. Since the last time I have spoken about them, progress was not positive, but progress indeed it was...of realizing how deep seeded it was)
I truly still don't understand my irrational behavior and hate towards mice and other fluffy miniature creatures of the sort. I guess we should take a trip into my childhood.....
-insert a smoke monster type cut scene minus the whole, death of Mr.Eko and subsequently turning into Locke and having an epic battle with Jack Sheppard on a rocky cliff and fail-whaling off of it after being owned by the guy who cries too much. So, just the smoke, are we clear? PS: I kind of like LOST)
As a small child I was by far too acquiescent to even attempt to stand up to my parents. I followed the rules and didn't make a fuss. So ergo, I got almost everything I asked for if it was reasonable, attainable, and acceptable among the round table that was my mother, father and sister. (and sometimes, my cat Sally had a say in certain things)
I remember vaugely that I was jealous of my cousin because she had a gerbil. Yes, I had a cat but I was young and all little girls need cute fluffy things in our life. (Now a days I go for the men who have facial hair, everything stems from childhood my friends) so I walked up to my parents after doing my homework, clearing my throat to get their attention, "I've been a good girl, and I think I should be allowed to have two hamsters." I boasted and being so as-a-matter-of-factly since they shot down the gerbil idea because they were worried I'd become so pre-occupied with it I would forget about Sally.
So why two hamsters instead you say? Because gerbils are relatively bigger than them, and gerbils need more up-keep, you can take gerbils out of the cage and they barely bite and can walk around freely (so I've seen, my cousin treated it as a cat). Also, it would turn into my cats next meal. Something caged, and that would stay that way was a much better choice.
We went to the pet store and I got two, I remember the man who sold me my hamsters. I thought he looked like Randy Savage on a bad-day. I swear still to this day he ate most of the animals, then crossed them off the inventory as 'SOLD' because it looked like a place where animals went to die. I named them Luke and Leia. Since they were brother and sister....and naturally had enough sexual tension in that tank to cut with a knife. We didn't do our 'hamster 101' research. They screw as often if not more than rabbits. And produce just as fast.
Within a month we had a gaggle ton of hamsters, I felt like I had my own little animal farm. It was like real-life farm-pet-zombie-mafiawar-slowly-turning-into-plants-vs-zombies-ville, but more hands on. And real. Speaking of zombies, George A. Romero would of been proud of the epic shit that went down in that tank. One day I came home and the Albino of the bunch, snowball ate two of its brothers, its mother and injured its father. I should of re named Luke Bruce Cambell since he was arm-less. Sadly, I couldn't find a mini chainsaw to attach to its aforementioned arm hole.**
My cage looked like the zombies won. I scolded snowball and he tried to bite me whilst I was cleaning up the dead hamster carcasses, and yes I had gloves on. I didn't want to get any hamster aids, duh. I knew he instinctively tried to bite me so I would join his zombie-albino-hamster-army. He was literally an army of one.
After cleaning up the mess I thoughtlessly put a piece of cardboard to split the tank in two. I was young and never thought of the idea:
"Hey...he just inhaled the stomach of his brother, bit off the head of his other brother and started to feast on his Dad. He could NEVER chew through cardboard! Golly geez!"
Then,
OH
MY
LAMB.
I woke up from my slumber to see a bloody mess first thing in the morning, snowball nowhere in sight, the rest of his family strewn across the bloody cardboard he bit through. I yelled out sounding like a mixture of chewbacca, a goose, and an elk. Gasping for air, I quickly found my cat and checked her to see if she had any nibble marks on her.
She was unscathed thankfully.
I was defeated.
I told my parents I would take care of them. This was my test, to further my animal purchases, so much I could even possibly adding a dog to the family. As I look back I was like Draco, I had a mission. But my mission wasn't trying to kill Dumbledore and failing because I actually have some goodness in me, or just frankly because I was a pussy, and was a lot of talk. That shit is all on him.
(Yes, I do partake in watching Harry Potter from time to time, shove it)
I failed, me, myself. because I couldn't control these animals. Damn you snowball. Damn you to animal purgatory. I had to build up all the strength I had in me, and the rest of my dignity to tell my parents of the epic 24 hour zombie take over that happened in my 30x12x12 hamster tank of terror.
Needless to say, I think that scarred me for life, and changed my way of looking at vermin.
Oh yeah, a mouse also bit me as a child. Little bastard.
*I just made myself sound like I was in need of therapy, and actually after the massacre of Luke, Leia and their love children I should have talked to someone about it. That was messed up. I always wondered if Manson, Gein, Bundy, Dahmer or Gacy went through a traumatic animal experience.***
**sorry for saying arm hole, that sounds very disgusting and not a good visual. Especially if this is late-night reading for you.
*** I am in no way as balls crazy as aforementioned psycho killers. But everything stems from something, I say. Little Gacy could of seen his dog get shot by his father because it broke both of its legs and they didn't have enough money to bring him to the vet. And like a ticking time bomb his crazy exploded in his brain like one of those cheap fireworks that last 4 seconds, the kind you get at your local pump-n-munch. I think way too much.
(this last paragraph has given me ameliorative progress in figuring out my deep seeded hate for mice. Since the last time I have spoken about them, progress was not positive, but progress indeed it was...of realizing how deep seeded it was)
I truly still don't understand my irrational behavior and hate towards mice and other fluffy miniature creatures of the sort. I guess we should take a trip into my childhood.....
-insert a smoke monster type cut scene minus the whole, death of Mr.Eko and subsequently turning into Locke and having an epic battle with Jack Sheppard on a rocky cliff and fail-whaling off of it after being owned by the guy who cries too much. So, just the smoke, are we clear? PS: I kind of like LOST)
As a small child I was by far too acquiescent to even attempt to stand up to my parents. I followed the rules and didn't make a fuss. So ergo, I got almost everything I asked for if it was reasonable, attainable, and acceptable among the round table that was my mother, father and sister. (and sometimes, my cat Sally had a say in certain things)
I remember vaugely that I was jealous of my cousin because she had a gerbil. Yes, I had a cat but I was young and all little girls need cute fluffy things in our life. (Now a days I go for the men who have facial hair, everything stems from childhood my friends) so I walked up to my parents after doing my homework, clearing my throat to get their attention, "I've been a good girl, and I think I should be allowed to have two hamsters." I boasted and being so as-a-matter-of-factly since they shot down the gerbil idea because they were worried I'd become so pre-occupied with it I would forget about Sally.
So why two hamsters instead you say? Because gerbils are relatively bigger than them, and gerbils need more up-keep, you can take gerbils out of the cage and they barely bite and can walk around freely (so I've seen, my cousin treated it as a cat). Also, it would turn into my cats next meal. Something caged, and that would stay that way was a much better choice.
We went to the pet store and I got two, I remember the man who sold me my hamsters. I thought he looked like Randy Savage on a bad-day. I swear still to this day he ate most of the animals, then crossed them off the inventory as 'SOLD' because it looked like a place where animals went to die. I named them Luke and Leia. Since they were brother and sister....and naturally had enough sexual tension in that tank to cut with a knife. We didn't do our 'hamster 101' research. They screw as often if not more than rabbits. And produce just as fast.
Within a month we had a gaggle ton of hamsters, I felt like I had my own little animal farm. It was like real-life farm-pet-zombie-mafiawar-slowly-turning-into-plants-vs-zombies-ville, but more hands on. And real. Speaking of zombies, George A. Romero would of been proud of the epic shit that went down in that tank. One day I came home and the Albino of the bunch, snowball ate two of its brothers, its mother and injured its father. I should of re named Luke Bruce Cambell since he was arm-less. Sadly, I couldn't find a mini chainsaw to attach to its aforementioned arm hole.**
My cage looked like the zombies won. I scolded snowball and he tried to bite me whilst I was cleaning up the dead hamster carcasses, and yes I had gloves on. I didn't want to get any hamster aids, duh. I knew he instinctively tried to bite me so I would join his zombie-albino-hamster-army. He was literally an army of one.
After cleaning up the mess I thoughtlessly put a piece of cardboard to split the tank in two. I was young and never thought of the idea:
"Hey...he just inhaled the stomach of his brother, bit off the head of his other brother and started to feast on his Dad. He could NEVER chew through cardboard! Golly geez!"
Then,
OH
MY
LAMB.
I woke up from my slumber to see a bloody mess first thing in the morning, snowball nowhere in sight, the rest of his family strewn across the bloody cardboard he bit through. I yelled out sounding like a mixture of chewbacca, a goose, and an elk. Gasping for air, I quickly found my cat and checked her to see if she had any nibble marks on her.
She was unscathed thankfully.
I was defeated.
I told my parents I would take care of them. This was my test, to further my animal purchases, so much I could even possibly adding a dog to the family. As I look back I was like Draco, I had a mission. But my mission wasn't trying to kill Dumbledore and failing because I actually have some goodness in me, or just frankly because I was a pussy, and was a lot of talk. That shit is all on him.
(Yes, I do partake in watching Harry Potter from time to time, shove it)
I failed, me, myself. because I couldn't control these animals. Damn you snowball. Damn you to animal purgatory. I had to build up all the strength I had in me, and the rest of my dignity to tell my parents of the epic 24 hour zombie take over that happened in my 30x12x12 hamster tank of terror.
Needless to say, I think that scarred me for life, and changed my way of looking at vermin.
Oh yeah, a mouse also bit me as a child. Little bastard.
*I just made myself sound like I was in need of therapy, and actually after the massacre of Luke, Leia and their love children I should have talked to someone about it. That was messed up. I always wondered if Manson, Gein, Bundy, Dahmer or Gacy went through a traumatic animal experience.***
**sorry for saying arm hole, that sounds very disgusting and not a good visual. Especially if this is late-night reading for you.
*** I am in no way as balls crazy as aforementioned psycho killers. But everything stems from something, I say. Little Gacy could of seen his dog get shot by his father because it broke both of its legs and they didn't have enough money to bring him to the vet. And like a ticking time bomb his crazy exploded in his brain like one of those cheap fireworks that last 4 seconds, the kind you get at your local pump-n-munch. I think way too much.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Star Wars Paper Toys!
Wanna make an adorable cut out paper toy based on the Star Wars characters you know and love? I know, so do I. Now you can!
DARTH PAPER VADER TOY // PDF FILE
And here are the other PDF files you can upload:
Boba Fett!
R2D2!
YODA!
Storm Trooper!
C-3PO!
A big thanks to the toy-a-day blog for these! They have a bunch more and are super fun to make!
DARTH PAPER VADER TOY // PDF FILE
And here are the other PDF files you can upload:
Boba Fett!
R2D2!
YODA!
Storm Trooper!
C-3PO!
A big thanks to the toy-a-day blog for these! They have a bunch more and are super fun to make!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
The Right Stuff
I remember my sister calling this constantly, and pissing off my parents making the phone bill blow up every month. Needless to say her phone privileges were revoked.
Side Note: Holy shit, Zack Morris phone waddap.
Side Note 2.0: What is up with the 5 digits at the end? I just called for shits and gigs and it didn't work. They were that awesome they added an extra number to the regular 7 number sequence. I want to know what they are up to now!! /Sarcasm
Nostalgia 2.0
Lately I have been taken over by nostalgia and thinking back to the 'good ol' days' of childhood. I mean really, shit was so easy back then and we didn't have to worry about a damn thing. And it sucks because all we wanted to do was grow up. And we did grow up. Now we want pieces of our childhood back.
Let me tell you a couple stories from my childhood:
They were puffy, they were cool, and everyone wanted one. At least in Minneapolis. The glorious Starter jackets. YOU KNOW you wanted one. The ghetto tom boy in me yearned for the Dallas Cowboys Starter jacket. I foamed at the mouth imagining going to school with my Reebok's, acid wash jeans, baggy Nike shirt, and my Starter jacket! I was a walking damn 90's advertisement. I swear everyone went through a ghetto phase. Or as I call it the "Mexican girl" look. Slicked back hair, penciled in lips, baggy shirts, high tops. And to top it all off I had eyebrows the size of Martin Scorsese's.
Guess what? Karlee got her jacket. Then Karlee got her ass kicked in the alley and they took a switch blade to the logo on the back and shoved me in the muddy snow and ran off. Did I mention Karlee didn't live in the best of neighborhoods when she was a youngin? Hard knocks, mofos. Hard. Knocks.
.....remember when I said I miss the good ol' days because we didn't have to worry about anything? Fuck that noise. I had a bloody nose and a bruised my tail bone. I decided to not like the Dallas Cowboys anymore. Maybe, just maybe the football gods were teaching me a lesson. Don't like the Dallas Cowboys, Cris Carter went to your Kwanzaa production at school and you were head speaker (yes, a chubby short white girl, AWESOME) and you tripped and fell off stage and who caught you? Oh yeah, Chris fucking Carter. You should of taken that as a sign that you should turn into a Vikings fan. But no. NO KARLEE, you had to wait until you got your ass kicked. Smart.
Lesson learned, never buy sports merchandise and wear it out in public. That experience alone made me change my dressing habits, thank goodness.(I wish it taught me to pluck my eyebrows, but that came later in life. When I was around 15.)
I remember vaguely that I started dressing girly. Also, *NSYNC just started becoming famous and I realized that yes, I do like boys. And naturally I fantasized about the gay one. Story of my life.
Let me tell you a couple stories from my childhood:
They were puffy, they were cool, and everyone wanted one. At least in Minneapolis. The glorious Starter jackets. YOU KNOW you wanted one. The ghetto tom boy in me yearned for the Dallas Cowboys Starter jacket. I foamed at the mouth imagining going to school with my Reebok's, acid wash jeans, baggy Nike shirt, and my Starter jacket! I was a walking damn 90's advertisement. I swear everyone went through a ghetto phase. Or as I call it the "Mexican girl" look. Slicked back hair, penciled in lips, baggy shirts, high tops. And to top it all off I had eyebrows the size of Martin Scorsese's.
Guess what? Karlee got her jacket. Then Karlee got her ass kicked in the alley and they took a switch blade to the logo on the back and shoved me in the muddy snow and ran off. Did I mention Karlee didn't live in the best of neighborhoods when she was a youngin? Hard knocks, mofos. Hard. Knocks.
.....remember when I said I miss the good ol' days because we didn't have to worry about anything? Fuck that noise. I had a bloody nose and a bruised my tail bone. I decided to not like the Dallas Cowboys anymore. Maybe, just maybe the football gods were teaching me a lesson. Don't like the Dallas Cowboys, Cris Carter went to your Kwanzaa production at school and you were head speaker (yes, a chubby short white girl, AWESOME) and you tripped and fell off stage and who caught you? Oh yeah, Chris fucking Carter. You should of taken that as a sign that you should turn into a Vikings fan. But no. NO KARLEE, you had to wait until you got your ass kicked. Smart.
Lesson learned, never buy sports merchandise and wear it out in public. That experience alone made me change my dressing habits, thank goodness.(I wish it taught me to pluck my eyebrows, but that came later in life. When I was around 15.)
I remember vaguely that I started dressing girly. Also, *NSYNC just started becoming famous and I realized that yes, I do like boys. And naturally I fantasized about the gay one. Story of my life.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Nostalgia 1.0
I think I need to get a bunch of people together and do this. Because I miss it. Then afterwards we can drink this:
And the world would feel so simple, like it did when we were 10.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Title Here.
First off I would like to say that this is the best Halloween costume, ever:
Anyways, I have been following Banksy Street Art for quite some time now, he is like the Spider Man of tagging.
My current favorite:
Golden.
Well, you will all come to realize my undying devotion and love for cupcakes. It isn't just because they taste good, they are fun to make, fun to decorate and a mini artistic creation that can be destroyed in a matter of seconds. Then I came across this:
BANKSY CUPCAKE! Now that is a cupcake that would be hard to eat. Unless me not eating it meant nobody would eat it, therefore sitting there uneaten. Sad, moist, creamy, fluffy. *NOM*
Also, I suggest you go and listen to Discovery's cover of "I Want You Back". I usually hate it when people try and re-make MJ's music but this isn't your typical carbon copy kind of re make. Listen now!
Sweet dreams.
Anyways, I have been following Banksy Street Art for quite some time now, he is like the Spider Man of tagging.
My current favorite:
Golden.
Well, you will all come to realize my undying devotion and love for cupcakes. It isn't just because they taste good, they are fun to make, fun to decorate and a mini artistic creation that can be destroyed in a matter of seconds. Then I came across this:
BANKSY CUPCAKE! Now that is a cupcake that would be hard to eat. Unless me not eating it meant nobody would eat it, therefore sitting there uneaten. Sad, moist, creamy, fluffy. *NOM*
Also, I suggest you go and listen to Discovery's cover of "I Want You Back". I usually hate it when people try and re-make MJ's music but this isn't your typical carbon copy kind of re make. Listen now!
Sweet dreams.
An Introduction.
24. Female. Strong. Passionate. Stubborn. Awkward. Sassy. Friendly. Bitchy. Loving. Sarcastic. Humble. Handful. Hot mess. I promise you won't forget me.
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