dont get too excited for this blog entry

Its 1am Sunday night and I am writing because I just decided an hour ago to begin my final essay for my religion class. Now get off my back, its due Tuesday, not tomorrow. Phew. But the topic is “The 5 functions of theology and the strengths and weaknesses of each.” As exciting as this sounds, I had to take a break. I have a serious problem with writing about boring things so I take excessive amounts of breaks to check facebook, get some food, or ya know… rearrange my entire room. Moving my bed, desk and dresser from one side of the room to the other really gets the brain firing on all cylinders. But truthfully, my brain could be sopping in Ritalin and I still wouldn’t be able to focus on this boring of a topic. If you happen to be an expert on this topic, please feel free to jump right in with some substance for my paper. I’m about one more writer’s block away from writing “WWJD? Not give me a bad grade on this religion paper,” and turning it in like that.

On the Brightside, my room looks great, and I freed up a ton of space to do really exciting things. Like sitting on the floor or… vacuuming? I don’t know why I need space in here, to be honest.

Before:

After:

My roommate goes home every single weekend, thus giving me the room to myself. Which sounds like some great alone time. But I’ve literally been in my bed since Friday except for eating and using the bathroom. The nightlife at this school is about as poppin’ as a night at the polygamy ranch. It’s tough to come up with riveting blog topics when the most human interaction you have for three days is seeing someone in the hall on the way to the bathroom.

I am currently listening to Christmas music on Pandora. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I was home for the Thanksgiving and spent much of it getting in the Christmas spirit. But since I’ve gotten back to school I feel like I’ve left Whoville and have been on Mount Crumpit. Someone decided to get in the spirit by spraying that fake snow stuff on the windows in the lobby of my dorm building. But don’t worry, someone took it upon them self to spice up the décor by draw a penis in the fake snow. I can now totally relate with Faith Hill when she asked “where are you Christmas?” (Sorry you had to see this:)

9 days and counting until I go back to Whoville (home :)

tiger's a cheetah

Okay, I feel like I need to talk about Tiger Woods. I don’t want to beat the dead horse on the topic, because Elin did enough beating for all of us. Elin did the one thing Phil Mickelson has never been able to do, she beat Tiger. I will try to do this without too many golf puns, but don’t be Tee’d off if I do… oops.

It started with an accident. The best driver on tour drove straight through his own yard, over a fire hydrant, and into a tree. And even Tiger couldn’t chip his way out of this rough patch. “Allegedly,” Elin chased him down the driveway while he drove away, smashing his windows with a golf club. Tiger denies such allegations, but shattered back windows, a cut up face, and multiple mistresses would say otherwise otherwise.

Tiger was forced to pay $164 for reckless driving. I wonder how he even pays that? Does he write a check? Because the signature on the check would be worth more than what the check was written for.

A voicemail is circulating that begins with someone saying “Hey, its tiger.” In his defense, it could have been any Tiger. Maybe it was Tony? This voicemail was to a girl named Jaimee Grubbs. If spelling the name “Jamie” with two E’s doesn’t tell the story, the fact that she was on the show “Tool Academy,” does. This girl is the epitome of class, oh wait… epitome means opposite right?

Tiger went Letterman on his wife and she went Rocky right back at him. I can’t say I blame her. She’s better looking than all of these “mistresses” anyways. She’s gotta feel like she missed the cut despite being a hole in one and them being pars.

Maybe Tiger should have been sponsored by Adidas, so then he would go by “anything is possible.” Like, you know… a celebrity marriage not ending in divorce. But instead, he’s sponsored by Nike, so really he had no other choice but to “just do it” with all those girls.

However, I believe with time Tiger will be fine. He'll will put a house on Elin’s finger and win a million more tournaments and this will all be old news. In 50 years Tiger’s game with the ladies may be out of the majority of people’s minds, but this will never be forgotten:

planes, trains and automobiles. actually just planes

On Tuesday I traveled home from school for the first time since moving there August 15, 2009. I had been growing quite tired of hickory (who woulda thought?) and I really needed this break. I encountered many things so far on my first homecoming but I’ll start off with my flight home for right now.

As everyone does, I was sitting in the terminal eyeing the fellow passengers waiting to board the plane. I noticed a family of screaming children and strung out parents who had no control of those kids. I added them to the mental list of people whom I hope I don’t sit by. Then my eyes scanned to a group of girls, close to my age, all seeming to be anywhere from very attractive to decently attractive. I added them to my mental list of people whom I hope I end up sitting by. While I’m scanning the crowd I hear a raspy old grumpy voice say “get that hippie to move his drink so we can sit down.” I quickly looked around to see the hippie whom the old bag was talking about, not seeing one; I grabbed my drink and took a sip. As soon as I lifted my cup off the seat next to me a fat butt squeezed tightly into a pair of old slacks dropped into the seat like it had been dropped from 10 storied above. The entire line of seats shook, and so did my mind as I realized I was the hippie the old lady was talking about. Now I admit, I have longer hair, but I was not wearing tie dye and marijuana was no where near my body, so calling me a hippie was completely uncalled for.

Sooner than I can wrap my head around the idea of being called a mean name by someone born during the depression, the plane began boarding. As I waited in line I began to find more people whom I wouldn’t mind sitting by; guy with laptop watching stepbrothers, overdressed, but attractive girl, etc. I made my way to my seat, past the smug first classers, already sipping on their tea and resting their head on pillows. As I made my way from the first class section to my seat I began to realize there are other, unofficial “classes” on planes.

You see, the people who sit up front, just behind the first class, might as well be the first class because they get to board first, they get off first, and I’m sure every now and then a stray cookie makes its way from first class to the front few coach rows.

Then you have the middle of the plane, or the “emergency exit” class. These people have a sweet deal because they get to stretch their legs and in the common case where the plane crashes and you are somehow able to escape, they got the best chance of getting out before the thing explodes.

And finally, there’s the back or the “ghetto” of the plane. Sure you have a short walk to the bathroom, but you also have the aroma of poop flushed into a tank with a miniscule amount of water. It takes half an hour to actually get off the plane once and lands and you are last to get your snacks from the flight attendant. The worst part is, you think you’d get your snack first because the flight attendant camp is in the back, but no.. they bring the cart to the front and work their way back.

When I got closer to my seat I knew who I would be sitting by. I had already passed the girls, the strung out family, and the guy watching stepbrothers, and I see one opening next to the old couple who had judged my character just minutes before. Sure enough, my seat, 25F was tucked in right next to the old couple, in the ghetto.

I made the head nod acknowledging my seat was the one they were obstructing and neither of them moved. They both looked at me as if I was telling them the early bird special was from here by cancelled permanently. Eventually, when they realized they had no other choice, they got up and let me sit down. The smell of ben-gay and baby powder filled my nose and for the rest of the trip, complaints filled my ears. “It is too dark in here I can’t see!” “When is that stewardess, I’m thirsty!” “This flight is too long, we could have driven it in this amount of time.” “This is horrible turbulence, I might never fly again.” The complaints flew faster than the plane and my iPod could not go any louder. This couple could possibly be more bitter than Jon and Kate Gosselin.

When the plane landed, my favorite thing happened as it does on every flight I have ever been on. The seat belt light went off and everyone on the plane stood up. It amazes me that people in the back of the plane insist on standing hunched over with their head wrenched to the front of the plane to see how long they have to wait. Do they really think standing up with your back hunched under the air vents is going to get them off the plane faster? Oh well. I will update you on the rest of my trip home when I get the chance. Over and out.

psychology makes me go insane

I am currently blogging because I am in a 2 hour Psychology class and the internet is down. So to keep my sanity, I will be writing nonsense to occupy my time. Just to give you the setting, my class has 26 students in it (my largest class) and a young man in the front is wearing a fedora. My professor, although a nice man, has the exact same personality as Milton from Office Space. His breathing resembles that of a bulldog after an afternoon of playing fetch. He has the blackest, bushiest eyebrows you’ll ever see and a thin gray comb over above that forest-like eyebrow situation.

A sigh of relief just washed over the room as the internet connection has just came back. I’ll keep writing though, because no one is on facebook to talk to and I can tell the girl behind me is reading what I write. Now, likely she is embarrassed and will look away for a second as if I am watching her, but the truth is she won’t be able to look away now because she won’t know what I’m saying about her. The girl next to me is one of those she’d-be-hot-if-she-didn’t-wear-windbreakers-to-class kinda girls. I mean seriously, a windbreaker…really? I know they’re practical but can you really stand the sound of whooshing with every move you make? I’ll take a brisk breeze through my hoodie over a fluorescent colored garment that blocks some of the wind any day.

Another trend I have not yet been able to wrap my mind around is girls wearing rain boots. I understand it is raining, but really are you that tempted to jump into a puddle that you need to get waterproof boots up to your knee? From Where I am sitting I can count 7 girls wearing these. The girl to my left has leopard print, LL Bean Brand rain boots, but get this: there’s a heal on them. What is the purpose of this? Added discomfort? Attempted achilles tendon shrinking? Here’s a rule of thumb: Are you going fly-fishing? No? Is there a flood? No? Then leave the boots in the closet and put on your flip-flops and go out the door. I’m tired of people trying to be trendy and unique. Unique is not wearing something weird that everyone wears. That ruins the uniqueness and just makes you a lame follower.

The girl in front of me to my left is playing Solitaire. She has 3 moves that I can see from here that she can perform, but she appears to be flabbergasted at the situation she is faced with.

A young man a few seats up to my right is currently Skyping with whom I assume to be his girlfriend. She also appears to be in a classroom and they are just smiling at each other with this look on their faces as if what they’re doing is so naughty that its funny.

As cliché as it is to make a Farmville joke, I will anyways. The ginger a few rows over is currently plowing his fields or something of the sort on Farmville. He is also chatting with what appears to be 4-5 friends on Facebook at the same time. It reminds me of a busy businessman the way he’s working and answering messages ever so frantically.

The girl to my left and 4 seats up is on looking at someone’s pictures on myspace. Did I just time travel to 2006? If she opens up her AIM buddy list I’ll lose my marbles.

Update: Solitaire girl is still staring at her solitaire game like Nicolas Cage staring at the Declaration of Independence looking for a secret code. I hope she is asleep or she is just a moron.

Windbreaker girl is currently looking at graduation pictures on that website that they send to you on a postcard after graduation. She clearly misses high school. That or she is as bored as I am. Or maybe she is looking for a new way to protect herself from the cold, one that is a little less 90’s perhaps?

Well I can tell Professor Milton is winding this lecture down, maybe he’ll let us out early so he can go burn the school down. That’d be convenient for me. I might live blog my classes more often from now on. I doubt anyone will be interested in it. But at least I will be entertained. Over and Out.

3 weeks of galavanting

I was recently asked if I had given up on writing this blog. I answered with a "no, of course not." But I am having a bit of a writers block, as I have been away from TV for some time, and haven't had to many funny things happen to me lately. So I thought I'd just start writing and see where it takes me.

I would currently consider myself the Rosie O'donnell of Blog writing. You see, i feel as though many of my entries have been dull, but then I shoot a Kush Ball into the crowd, and for a short time, the dullness and lack of humor is forgotten. But I would like to change my image to more of the Ellen Degeneres of Blog writing. I want to come on stage dancing, bust your gut with my monologue and leave the stage dancing. Metaphorically speaking of course.

I recently embarked on a three week journey from Fort Myers, Florida to Minnesota to New Mexico. Each, no similar to the rest. Minnesota/Wisconsin is where I have spent the majority of my summers growing up, and was pretty the same as it always has been just a few more grandkids getting drunk than the year prior. However, the trip took a turn for the... Crazy when we decided to take a little trip down the apple river.

Now this river I speak of, sounds harmless. Possibly lined with apple trees, with families picnicking along side. This couldnt be further from the truth. Toothless wisconsinites wading in waist deep water which has to be comprised of atleast 10% urine and vomit. Girls showing off their goodies for strings of sparkly beads. I even witnessed a limp body of a girl carried to the shore, only to be surrounded by a tussle between about 10 plus sized women. Not a pretty site because if there's one thing girls from wisconsin don't know, its that one pieced bathing suits DO EXIST. I even saw a group of gay tubers carrying a giant blow up peni5. Not to mention the water was about 60 degrees and for the last 2 hours of the tube ride, the air was even cooler. AHH

Now I have been in New Mexico for 3 or 4 days and I have yet to see someone with blonde hair. The clear minority of Albuquerque is white people, as almost every person I have seen is either Mexican or Indian. Every sign here has both English and Spanish, and burrito restaurants line the streets like angry vietnam vets at a gay pride parade. After days of research and pondering, I have come to the conclusion that New Mexico is a lot like Mexico... only newer.

I am staying with my sister and brother-in-law and baby niece on Kirtland Airforce Base. It is quite unique in a everything-looks-the-same kinda way. If there's one thing I can take away from my time here so far, its that I am not very manly. Im seeing guys with crew cuts washing their Humvees in their head-to-toe camo, while I'm out for a leisurely jog, hair flowing in the breeze. I can now say without a doubt that I am not cut out for the military. I'd never be able to figure out that whole way of telling time anyways.

thoughts from the end of the couch

I was watching a movie the other day on TNT, and it couldn’t have been more predictable. The main actor, Bruce Willis, narrowly avoids death in the first scene of the movie. Now how is this suspenseful? Of course he’s not going to die. My heart rate didn’t increase what so ever because I have learned. Big stars don’t die in movies until the end. So I decided if I ever produce a movie, I will cast a big time celebrity and kill them off early on. That will throw everyone for a loop and keep them interested. Hollywood is getting more predictable than a Girls Gone Wild commercial coming on Comedy Central after 1am, you just know its going to happen. I would also have one of the extras become a key factor at the end of the movie, so then you have to watch it again and say “ahh, he was in the background at the coffee shop.”

I saw one of those Oreck vacuum commercials today. I was sad to see David Oreck is really showing his age. I think they had to start making vacuums weigh 1 pound so his brittle index finger can still pick it up to show the audience how light their vacuums are. I don’t see how this marketing campaign is perceived as successful? “Okay your vacuum is light and can suck smoke out of a smoke filled enclosure, can it clean my carpet?”



So I was watching college softball yesterday. And I came to the realization that There are probably 100 things I'd rather watch than college Softball. Theres just something about overweight lesbians getting overly pumped up about a boring sport that just doesn't hold my attention. It also had me wondering... What do these girls do after they graduate? I mean there can't be that many available Gym Teacher jobs. Hmmm. (Coming soon: List of 100 things I'd rather watch than college softball)

I saw an ad for Purdue chicken today, and the dad from Even Stevens was on it. Once again, I was sad. What’s next, Beans doing commercials for Bacon? And what happened to Ren? Living in the Lizzie McGuire Shadow of Disney Channel beauty queen must have been rough but she still could do something with her life. Maybe she’ll end up on Dancing with the Stars, I’d like that.

I have a confesstion to make. While I am a fan of all three, if you put Bob Saget, Bill Nye the Science Guy, and Steven Colbert in a room. I’d have a hard time telling you who was who.

this just in: