Newport Old Fort

It seems really obvious not to smoke cigarettes for the well known reasons, like them making you die and stuff. 

 

But clearly, as this mind blowing Newport ad proves, there are some less obvious reasons that need to be pointed out.

 

 

 

Particularly, why to not smoke after moving into a new house and making an adult box fort.

 

First of all, you just moved in.  Why would you sully it up with that rancid smell?

 

Secondly, you better hope you bought that house and not rented, because Mr. Landlord is going to be all sorts of pissed when he sees those burn marks on his brand new generic white carpet.

 

Third, you are 30-ish.  It's too late in life to build forts.  (But not really).  So if you are going to build a 30+ year old fort, make it awesome.  You should have the money at this stage in life for the right accessories to make this thing pop. 

 

Also, I hate to point out the obvious, but what you have here is really more of a faux-drive thru window.  Forts are dwellings.  This is a makeshift Cook Out Walk-Thru.  Work more horizontal, less vertical.

 

Fourth, y'all are both pretty beautiful people.  Don't ruin your looks with cigs.

 

And finally, your cigarettes aren't even lit you dumb, dumb asses.  How are these life lessons supposed to apply to you if you are just pretending to smoke!?

My Wife is a Striking Lady

My friend sent this to me.  And I just had to share, for the sheer sake of its specific-ness.

 

 

 

If you can find a bumper sticker this detailed just bee-bopping down the road in Wilmington, NC, can you even imagine what else is out there?

 

My all-time favorite bumper sticker that I've ever seen in real life is, and will always be, "I'd Rather Be Basket Weaving".  I bet that one went flying off the shelves!

 

 

Cheers to Chips and Money

File this under your list of things that are impossible to do:

 

NOT buy these when you see them at the grocery store

 

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Have you ever?  I buy full fat potato chips about once a year.  And as of yesterday by 2013 quota is filled.  I just couldn't, not get them!

 

I can't imagine anything greater than winning $1,000,000 for coming up with a potato chip flavor.  To combine my love of potato chips, garlic bread, and $1,000,000, my cup would truly runneth over.

 

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The flavor is pretty good.  I doubt I'd buy them again because they are pretty rich after a few handfuls.  But that doesn't mean that I won't also try Chicken and Waffles and Sriracha in the spirit of being chip-adventurous!

 

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Forget the Winter Olympics.  This is definitely my kind of competition!

I just have two words for Miley Cyrus,

who I believe is wholly, 100% unlikeable in any way:

 

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GO AWAY!

 

Oh, and take your teddy bear fetish, over-active tongue, unrequited dry humping, and Ewok hairdo with you.

 

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Maybe I needed more than 2 words for that hot mess.  She is the WORST!

Who Let the Dogs Out

If love means having to customize your license place with this redonkulousness, then I'd rather be alone.

 

 

Also, to publicly tout your man as "BGDOG" on your car, Mr. Mister better live up to the hype.  He better not come traipsing out of that minivan in pleated khakis, loafers, and a short sleeve button up.  I expect a leather vest and bulging biceps from that Big Dog!

 

It's hard to be badass when you're driving a Honda Odyssey.  Ruff, Ruff.

I Have Risen

It turns out we either got punked, or an even bigger animal came and took the dead animal away.

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Bug-N-A-Rug came to save the day yesterday, only there was no day to save.  So I probably looked like a stupid little girl crying, "Wolf...I swear there was one yesterday...".

 

Oh well.  At least my house no longer smells like butt.

 

The whole ordeal kind of reminds me of the time I had "Globus".  Globus is when you have the sensation of a lump in your throat.  Only...there's not one. It's basically the condition of not having a condition.  No one found this funnier than my sister when I was "diagnosed".  Thankfully I'm a globus survivor and my symptoms have long since disappeared.

 

 

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Kind of like my dead basement animal.

 

The real tragedy of the (faux?) dead beast was Grant's finger prints.  In his effort to search the ventilation ducts below our house, he had to take some apart.  When putting them back together with some sort of very serious caulk, he turned his hands a black tar-like consistency that would absolutely not come off.  Even after he used special soap, fingernail polish remover, Goo Gone, and sandpaper (!). 

 

I was so scared that he was going to destroy our sheets in his sleep with tar and/or blood, I kindly requested that he wear my purple glove liners to bed.  He furiously obliged and went to bed looking like a gay axe murderer.

 

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We were NOT allowed to laugh about it that night, but I giggled myself to tears behind every corner and door I could find when he wasn't looking.  It was quite a sight.

 

Now my house smells like roses and Rosie and all is right in the world!  We can just chalk that up to another adventure in home ownership!

 

Death Below Us

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We have a dead animal under our house somewhere.  And it smells like, well...death.

 

I got back to our house on Sunday after being away all weekend and was greeted by a most offensive, eye-watering smell.

 

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My first thought was, "Why me??  I just want to relax on a Sunday night and go to the grocery store and do laundry.  Not be held hostage to my house because my husband is in the crawl space and is afraid he might get stuck if left alone."

 

Then I realized I was being dramatic.  I decided to be all positive and crap and just be really grateful for all of the Sundays that I come home and DON'T have a dead animal under my house.

 

That helped for a little bit.  Then we just left and spent the night at my parents' house.

 

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I'm meeting a pest control person around noon at my house.  I'm praying that he finds the source of the smell.  I've been told that otherwise, you just have to wait for the animal to decompose, than look forward to a bunch of flies invading your vents about a month later. 

 

Yay.

 

Stay tuned for the results of the noon meeting.  And in the meantime, just enjoy those days that you come home to the non-smell of a rotting corpse.

When Life Hands You Lemons

 

Make lemonade.  And do the worm.

Cheers for Sears and Cheap Shoes

I can't believe these things are still available!

 

 

 

My friend/coworker told me about this unbelievable purchase a few weeks ago and I immediately jumped on the chance to get cute, summery, stylish shoes for $9.99.  How's that for a no-brainer!?

 

I also told my friend about them, and she got them too.  Now my other coworker is buying a pair.  So if we are all going to be twinsies, you should too!

 

We all have these in the Nude/Mint color, but I love the Cognac as well.  Maybe I'll get those too.  At that price why not!?  I also had mine delivered to the store for free so I didn't have to pay any shipping.  Oh Sears, you are so amazing.

 

The best part about this shoes, besides the mind blowing price, is that they are actually...wait for it...comfortable!  I don't say that about a shoe lightly.  In fact, I pretty much hate all shoes that aren't of the tennis or flop variety.

 

Don't miss this chance to be chic on the cheap!

Sam I am, In love with you!

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I've only been to a couple of Bar Mitzvahs in my life.  One I was pretty out of if for because I took my first accidental evening nap beforehand, thought I'd missed it, and was just generally confused for the party.

 

The second one was awesome and resulted in an epic mixed CD party favor.  That one I remember much better.  Particularly because I still have the CD and the CD cover.  But I love my friend too much to post that bad boy on the Internet.  Think young budding Jewish man doing his best reenactment of Saturday Night Fever.  Think epicness.

 

While both of said Mitzvahs were awesome, neither included an entrance that held a candle to this: 

 

Presenting

 

SAM

 

in

 

The Most Glamorous, Booty-Shaking Bar Mitzvah Performance Ever

 

 

 

  

The dancers are faboosh, the all-white everything is heaven, the choreography and music are spot on, and the pointing at the crowd at the end is to.die.for.

 

Sam, will you kindly be my best friend?

 

And if not, will you partner up with this guy?  Because I think you two might have a really bright future together!

 

 

Showtime is No Time

About 3 years ago I did a trademark, jump-the-gun, over-eager, Marilyn move.  Recap here.

 

Basically, AT&T Uverse dropped Food Network and I dropped AT&T Uverse immediately thereafter.  And then they picked it back up, like 4 hours later.

 

I felt borderline psychotic, but I was already out the installation fee for the new provider (Time Warner Cable), and I had made such a big fuss about it to Grant, defending my craziness and hastiness, that I had to stick to my guns and not look back to AT&T.

 

Flash forward almost 3 years later.  Now Time Warner Cable is giving me the business!  And not good business.

 



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I came home from a trip to Boston a couple of weeks ago, ready to settle in to my couch with just enough daylight left to not get too scared, and watch my beloved Dexter.

 

Only there was no Dexter recording!  And there was no Dexter on the Guide.  And there was no Showtime on the whole damn TV!

 

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I called TWC to figure out what the hell was going on.  The automated recording told me and I'm sure millions others that, due to disputes with Showtime, TWC no longer offers Showtime for the time being.

 

De

 

Va

 

Station

 

As it pertains to Dexter, I was sad, disappointed, and inconvenienced. 

 

As it will pertain to Homeland come September, I will be inconsolable. 

 

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Oh no big deal.  It's only my favorite show on television.  It's only the single non-filler show that Grant and I actually love to watch together.  It's only the best drama on TV.  Which is weird because I don't even like things to be dramatic!!!

 

This is the worst thing to happen to TV since 90210 ended.

 

The only thing worse than losing Homeland would be losing Bravo.  Give me the Real Housewives of Everywhere, or give me death.

 

Time Warner Cable - When will you have mercy on our TV-addicted souls!?

Mario Kart

Last night I was watching the NBC Nightly News.  They were talking about police frisking and racial profiling and all that jazz. 

 

When a little friend from my childhood appeared.  With no explanation.  Or notice.  Or pomp and circumstance.

 

 

 

It's'A ME, MAAAARIO!  Backpack and all.

 

I Heart strange things.

Bikram is a Bastard?

It was almost a year ago to the day that I tried my first (and very last) attempt at Bikram Yoga.

 

You might recall from my stories here and here that I nearly died and wholly embarrassed myself.

 

Well in case you also hate being 107 degrees like me, and you need further proof that Hot Yoga is the devil's exercise, I have it for you here:

 

"Bikram Yoga Founder Hates Sluts and Fatties, Loves Talking About Dicks"

 

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Sounds harsh.  Gets harsher.

 

"Towne said the training schedule was based on Bikram's erratic desires; sometimes students would be in lecture until 3 A.M. and still be expected to show up at 8:30 A.M. the same morning. (Bikram talks a lot about his ability to avoid eating and sleeping, she said; "Sleep is the number one crime" was one of his favorite sayings.)"

 

I'm going to have to stop you right there.  First of all, those words you just said Bikram...those are fighting words.  Sleep is my number one love.  Consider me America's Most Wanted if sleeping is a crime.  And avoiding eating?  I'd sooner avoid breathing.  Which I realize would cause me to die, but at least I'd die fat and happy.

 

The article goes on to reveal more pearls of wisdom from Bikram himself.  My favorite is:

 

"More marriage advice: "Love your bitch wife every moment." Well, duh.

 

Apparently he hates a lot of people, the most mind blowing of which is "people who live in cold climates".  How dare they!?

 

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But the funniest takeaway from this hate filled article about a "sport" which I think was created to torture people's souls and sweat glands, is the comment section, in which no issue in the article is commented on more than the Bikram's saying, "On testicles: "You never see two balls in one line."  I guess people know what they are passionate about!

 

I stand by my opinion that Hot Yoga is the worst.  In no world, no how, do I ever need to be 107 degrees.  Especially if that world involves a 90 pound woman with nary a shadow of an ass telling me I can't leave the room.

Skin Laundry

Do you remember last year when I discovered dry shampoo and my life was forever changed?

 

DRY SHAMPOO 4EVA

 

 

Well two things have happened since then:

 

1) I stopped using dry shampoo very often because I CANNOT find a brand that doesn't smell like butt.

 

2) Someone finally  answered my call at the end of that blog post above!

 

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Now there really is a soap version of dry shampoo.  It's called Skin Laundry.  And it sounds disgusting.

 

But I don't think it is!

 

According to one Yelp reviewer who went to one of the first Skin Laundry salons in Santa Monica, "Here is the scoop: it's a deep skin cleaning as performed by skilled and trained nurses.  The laser and light therapy helps with hyperpigmentation, aging and fine lines."

 

I heard about it on the radio this morning from Ryan Seacrest and it basically sounds like a walk-in, affordable, skin clinic that allows even non-celebrities and millionaires to treat themselves to a little pretty.  Seacrest knows his skincare!

 

I doubt it will be making it's way to little ol' Wilmington, NC anytime soon, but if you see one pop up near you holla at your girl.  I am willing to travel to big cities to try these things out!

 

Back from Boston

I'm back.  From Boston.  And I'm bloated.

 

Did you know that Boston is the home of Dunkin' Donuts?  According to Dangles Mc'CatchNothing, our trusty Duck Tour guide, Boston is the only city in America in which Dunkin Donuts outnumber Starbucks.

 

Also, they call them "Dunkies".  Which just happens to be the best thing I've ever heard.  So, obviously I'm calling them that from now until eternity.

 

But back to the bloat.  Isn't it funny how you can go 15+ years without having a donut and then, suddenly, after having them every day for 4 days, you can't go one day without them.

 

Today's my first day from withdrawal.  Specially I'm withdrawing from the following best order of all time:

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Thank you to my dear husband for introducing me to the glory that is the Glazed Chocolate Stick and the Maple donut.  I once was blind but now I am fat.

 

I really miss those frosted treats already.  However, I am now eating melon and water for breakfast and my body is rejoicing in vitamins, so maybe there's something to that.

 

Other highlights of the trip:

 

Fenway is awesome.

Sam Adams Brewery Tour was amazing and the tour guide was the best person I've ever met in my life.  Definitely the highlight.  Her name was Audrey.  AKA, Angel Baby.  AKA, my best friend I've never hung out with outside of a brewery and my only friend that I've ever given a tip to.  AKA, my Spirit Sister.

Little Italy was delicious.

Maine was a super fun day trip.

Mo butta mo betta:

 

 

 

Boston Here I Come

Guess who's off to Beantown tomorrow? 

 

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Me, silly.

 

Going to Boston, AKA Beantown, makes me want to wear a Beanie.  I think it's because when I was younger I actually did have a beanie, and some hot but mean soccer player guy threw it in a trash can on top of a bunch of baked beans.

 

Those two things have always gone hand in hand to me.

 

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But I digress...

 

Are there any must-sees, gotta-eats, can't-miss-its, life-changing places in Boston that I need to know about?

 

Let me know if you have any suggestions!!!  I am so excited for a vacation.

 

You know who is not that excited, though?  This little diva and her pillow fort.  She doesn't even know what's coming.