Funny Internet Things

If you'd only keep an eye out, you would realize that there are so many little things to laugh at on the internet.  Let me share with you some amusing things I have seen this week.

Well, no shit!  Are you making fun of me, random word generator?

Well then I don't want to be here anyway!

I think the people at Spin Magazine need to learn the difference between "giving someone a compliment" and "saying nothing at all."

Actually, death-trap shoes like this can torture feet.

Making lists like this is a QUALITY way to spend one's time.

Does this cute little bear charm look funny to anyone else?

This is just weird.  You LOVE Hamblor, the GOD of HAMBURGERS!  Come be his internet slave!  ROAR!!!

Don't pay them!  Try us FOR FREE!!!  (and then start paying us)

"Calling all prostitutes!" -Craigslist

False.  I can think of at least seven faster bubble games off the top of my head.

Wait, what?

Brad Pitt is underrated, really?  Not according to my list of famous poopers!

(See my post "Ruminations" if you don't know what I'm talking about)

Just keep your eyes peeled and you'll see it too!

This One Time On An Airplane

First of all, a note about my last post – I didn't even realize that last thought was funny on more than one level (the literal one) (eew) until my mother pointed it out to me. Does this seem a little backward to anyone else?

. . . 

ANYWAY.  This one time over Spring Break, my friend Lauren and I flew to Massachusetts to visit our friend Ashley who went to school there. On the plane ride over, we sat next to a middle-aged lady – she at the window, Lauren in the middle, and me on the aisle.

  

At some point during the flight this woman tells us she had to go to the bathroom. So, we start adjusting to take off our seat belts when all of a sudden she straight up PASSES OUT on Lauren. Like her head is down and leaning against Lauren's shoulder. We both freeze for a second and just stare at her with wide eyes.

Then all of a sudden she just sits up and stares right back at us, with a look that says “Why aren't you idiots moving? I have to pee.”

This was honestly the look on her face, like she was wondering what was wrong with us. So we confusedly fumbled with our seat belts and let her out.

I don't remember what Lauren's and my conversation looked like after she got up, but it probably went something like this:

ME: “What just happened?” (nervous giggle)

LAUREN: “I don't know!” (nervous giggle)

ME: “Did she just pass out on you?” (nervous giggle)

LAUREN: “I think so!” (nervous giggle)

At this point it was mostly nervous laughter, and it was more creepy than funny because we were so confused. And then there was commotion in the back of the plane, because she passed out again by the bathroom. The airplane people helped her out and she got some water or something, and when she came back we asked what the hell was wrong with her. Just kidding, we asked if she was okay. And we offered her our crackers, which she gratefully accepted, if I remember correctly with a remark about how she wasn't a good flier. 

If only she knew!  

...Or did she?

Ruminations

- Shampoo is a funny word. This poo is a sham!

- Don't ignore your laptop when it tells you its battery is running low, because it's not lying. If you don't immediately plug it in you will forget. And it will somehow still surprise you a few minutes later when it dies in the middle of whatever you're doing which isn't that important but now that you were so rudely interrupted IT WAS CRITICALLY IMPORTANT AND NOW I'M PISSED.

 

- Sometimes adjectives are tricksy and not only do they describe other words, they also describe themselves. They're like Mega-Adjectives. For example: whimsical. It's such a whimsical word! And my other favorite: sinister. Creepy, right?

- Do you ever picture famous people pooping? You should try it some time... it will cheer you up on a bad day. Start with Brad Pitt. (It's funny because he's attractive).

- Let's all start calling guy movies “dick flicks.”   

What if...?

One day last week it rained like crazy. It started out sprinkling, but most of the day it was raining really hard.  Meaning, there were lots of drops falling hard and fast.

So, the harder it is raining, the more drops there are. But what if instead of being based on the number of drops falling, the intensity of rain was measured by the size of the drops themselves? 

 

POURING RAIN!!!

Imagine if it really was like this... Not that many drops, but they're HUGE, and you would have to either get some kind of magic umbrella, OR you'd have to run around dodging the huge bucket-fulls of water and probably wear some rain boots that go all the way up your thighs.  

So many possibilities!  Let's run through the park and back and see who gets the least wet. Ready? Go!

Eyes Are A Precious Gift

Okay so I am paranoid about several stupid things... probably because I have seen way too many episodes of CSI. And CSI: New York. But not CSI: Miami, because that show is stupid.

Today I am going to tell you about one of these “paranoias.” Actually, I can't figure out if it's a paranoia or a phobia, so we'll just stick with paranoia for now.

Paranoia #1: Going blind (note: I accidentally just typed going bling, which would be a way more hilarious paranoia to have). I have this fear of something happening to my eyes.

Reason #1: The coroner on this episode of CSI:NY one time put on his little magnetic glasses and leaned over a dead body to check out a bullet lodged in its something-or-other, and it turns out this was an EXPLODING BULLET and it EXPLODED IN HIS FACE. Blood and body juice and bullet fragments everywhere! CSI-lab-worker-lady-#1 said that had he not been wearing those glasses, he would have been blinded! Vague worry for the safety of my eyes successfully instilled.

Reason #2: I heard this story once that probably isn't true and I don't even remember where I heard it but those are the kinds of stories that stick with you and make you paranoid. There was this guy that got into a crazy car accident and he said that if he wasn't wearing his glasses all the pieces of broken glass from his shattered windshield would have blinded him. Holy crap! Getting in a car accident is a real life situation that could actually happen to me. Fear actualized.

Had these fictional men not been wearing their protective eye-gear they would have GONE BLIND! You know what that means? ETERNAL DARKNESS. I am rational enough to not live in fear of coming into contact with a dead body riddled with exploding bullets, even though anything is possible and oh crap now I'm actually a little worried about that too. But car accidents are real-life things! And I have never been in one before, so according to the law of averages which isn't actually a real thing but still is scary anyway, it will probably be a bad one (that's right, I learned something in AP Statistics!). So, this leads me to the ingenious preventative measures I have taken to protect my eyes from freak blinding car accidents.

Solution #1: Sunglasses! I now have sunglasses that I keep in my car and wear while driving during the day even when it's not that bright outside and I feel like a douche bag for wearing sunglasses when the amount of brightness from the sun does not warrant their use. I got my first pair of sunglasses only last year, because for some reason I have always felt stupid wearing them, and still only do when absolutely necessary. I had to get them because one day I was standing outside and my eyes up and decided it was just too damn bright. They started to water like mad and WOULD NOT STAY OPEN. Oh, don't mind me, I'm not crying over here, I just have completely lost all control over my eyes. Apparently they decided they had had enough of this shit, so now I have sunglasses. I wear them while driving, both to protect my eyes from the sun, and also from my windshield that is ready to explode into tiny eye-blinding pieces whenever the aforementioned horrible car accident happens.

Problem #1: Sunglasses and nighttime do not get along. I can wear them when the sun is out and happy and doing its thing, and I can even get away with wearing them when the sun is just starting to go down, but when the sun actually is gone, it is too dark for sunglasses. On the plus side, I don't feel like a douche bag for wearing them in the dark because people probably can't see me, but on the minus side, I also can't see them, and those are not safe driving conditions, according to my mom.

Solution #2: hipster glasses! They're like sunglasses, only they have clear lenses and don't actually do anything for your eyes. Unless maybe they have UV protection, but really no one wears them for that reason. So this is the part where I was going to make fun of hipsters, but instead I will admit that I wish I were cool enough to be one of them and then move on.

Problem #2: Douchebaggery. This is the problem with wearing my huge wayfarer-like $2 white-rimmed clear lensed-glasses, in addition to the fact that they are white and I have no idea why I chose that color because it looks especially stupid. I feel like a total douche bag wearing them. (Note: I am probably over-using the term “douche bag,” but sometimes it is the perfect word and the only one that truly fits the situation). Anyone who sees me wearing those while driving a car alone at night would probably judge me, because they don't understand my paranoia. I'm doing it for my eyes, and you should too! DON'T YOU KNOW YOU COULD GET INTO A FREAK ACCIDENT AND GO BLIND?!? Also, if someone is in the car with me I don't wear them because of how idiotic I look wearing them. Instead, I drive along pretending like I'm cool and just like everyone else who doesn't wear hipster glasses while driving at night, when actually I am in total and absolute fear for the safety of my eyes.  

I know it is irrational, like all paranoias, and people tell me if you get in a car accident your first instinct will probably be to shut your eyes so they'll probably be fine. But if I ever DO get in a car accident and am not wearing my hipster safety glasses and something happens to my precious eyes, I will be SO PISSED at myself that the ONE TIME I didn't wear them is the ONE TIME I needed to.  

What's your major?

“So do you know what you want to major in when you go to college?”

I felt so superior asking this question, because I knew. As a freshman in high school, I felt sorry for my peers that didn't know. How lost they were!

“I'm going to be a nurse,” I would say triumphantly. “For pregnant women and babies.” It sounded so cool. I felt smart just saying it.

My big brother, who was a senior in high school at the time, was applying to go to a Christian university about half an hour away from our house. Sounded good to me! No way I would actually move far away from my mommy. And this school apparently had a good nursing program, which is where I got this fancy idea of mine. Where the pregnant women and babies came from, though, I have no idea. So anyway, four years later I went to this school and enrolled as a nursing major. On track for the rest of my life, right? ...Right??

My first semester I took Anatomy with the hardest Anatomy professor that ever taught at my school. Lucky me! It really was the hardest class I have ever taken, though, and I had no idea what a freaking cake walk high school was until I had this class. I have to study? What? I had no idea what studying was. There was SO MUCH EFFING READING, all about science-y body stuff that I had never before cared to remember. Science has never been a favorite subject of mine – sometimes stuff is just too complicated and doesn't interest you. And... surprise! That didn't change for me just because I went to college. Not that I ever loved studying, but some things you are actually interested in, so studying's not that bad. This class was interesting at times, for sure, but so detailed and in such terms that I didn't give a crap. I can't even remember one thing we talked about (actually I can remember one thing but only because it's about sex so it doesn't count) – that's how well I learned this stuff.

Oh and my roommate was also a nursing major, but unlike me she was/is a genius. She read everything and highlighted everything and REMEMBERED EVERYTHING. I'm not kidding, she got into the nursing program our second semester (which if I remember correctly only like 3 freshman did), and she graduated with all her ridiculously insane nursing classes and a FREAKING 4.0 GPA. Not that I ever compared myself to her. So anyway, I sucked and for the first time in my life was worried about passing a class and I was freaking out and called my mom one night all unsure about nursing, but for some reason I stuck with it another semester. Same thing – science classes I just didn't care about. And since I did not retain all this important information about the human body, I thought I might not be the best person to be in charge of anyone's health.

So my sophomore year I changed my major to English (don't tell all those poor little high school freshman I once secretly ridiculed). I don't really know why I chose English... because I like to read books? I took all general studies classes and one English class to “test the waters,” and I hated that class. It was British literature – all these lofty old poems I didn't understand. And I didn't like my professor either. He talked about all this random crap that had nothing to do with the class (not that I would have preferred him to talk more about the stupid poems). I pretty much just don't understand poetry. Sometimes there's a poem that makes sense, and I think I get it, so I can appreciate the beautiful language and actually enjoy it (Billy Collins, FTW!). But most of the time, I sympathize with all you other non-lovers of poetry that say: “BUT WHAT THE %#!@ DOES IT MEAN???”

So towards the end of that semester, I got a letter saying I was accepted into the nursing program. Um, what? Did they not realize that I didn't reapply? Did no one tell them that I changed my major? Well, I hated that English class, so I thought maybe I was supposed to do nursing. A sign from God, maybe? So I changed my major back to nursing. HA! Halfway through DAY ONE I knew it was a mistake. All this talk about clinicals and working in the hospital made me cringe deeply. I also hated going to the lab and practicing taking each other's blood pressures (which was so freaking hard, by the way – all those other bitches were making up their numbers, I know it). I realized, I don't want to do this ish for the rest of my life! So I went home that night and had a meltdown with my parents and decided I would change my major to liberal studies and become a teacher instead.

Here again, I have no idea why on earth I thought that would be a good idea. Maybe because it made me feel secure that it put me on track to a specific career. So I stuck with that for a year, and again realized, “I don't want to do this shiz!” Why I always put myself in these situations where I should have known better and realize way too late, God only knows. So I changed my major back to English, and this time I loved it. I decided to do it this time pretty much because these were classes I actually wanted to take. And because I like reading books. “P.E. in the Elementary Schools”? Hell no! I'm taking freaking “Marriage and Courtship in Victorian Literature” instead. BECAUSE IT SOUNDS AWESOME AND BECAUSE I CAN. And it was awesome. And I loved all my literature classes and I wish I had stuck with English earlier, because I would have loved to have taken more.

This major finally worked for me because I just got to read books and talk about them and that's pretty awesome. Unlike the nursing and teaching classes I had taken, I didn't hate these classes and think about how they would lead to a career that I would also hate. Unfortunately though, there isn't a job called “English” that it would lead me to, like the jobs those other majors came equipped with. So when my peers would ask, “What do you want to do when you graduate?” I had no answer. This time I was the one they felt sorry for (balls!).  Hopefully there actually is a job somewhere that has something to do with English that I will like one day... 'cause I graduated a year and a half ago and I think it's too late to change my major.

So it Begins!

I have always wanted to write, but just never got around to it. I have recently been inspired to give it a shot, so I am going to go for it right here.

Everyone has a story to tell. Actually, everyone has lots of stories to tell, if only we would take the time to tell them. So, here is where I am going to take the time and tell you some of mine. And maybe draw some terrible pictures here and there, just for fun.