Monthly Archives: November 2011

Because Marcel the Shell Changed My Life. And I’m Pretty Sure the Second One Will Too


i think the title is sufficiently long and self-explanatory.

but i wept a bit this morning when i found this.

and i may or may not have watched this 16 times already and it’s not even 9.30AM.

you can comment about skewed priorites or whatever.  but i don’t care.

 

 

click the picture for viewing pleasure

 

Textual Feeling: Cunt College


B: do you think they have a Culinary University of North Texas?

me: i would hope so.  you applying?

B: i will.  if it exists.

me: your research begins now.

i’ve spent the better part of my afternoon designing logos for this non-existent school.  b did a quick google search and found no conclusive evidence that this college is real.  which is sad. 

but then i started thinking about the movie where the kid doesn’t get accepted to any college he applied to so he makes his own college.  and everything works out in the end because his college isn’t so focused on staunch success and clear cut black and whites and it’s like a giant “fuck you”to corporate america and all those bullshit standards that get drilled into kids. 

but life isn’t like that.  so get over it.

here are my logos:

the upside down llama has nothing to do with cooking. or cunts.

if this is a buffalo, i'm pretty sure you can eat it.

i'm fairly certain you can't eat bald eagle. but this is my logo tribute to america.

on a side note: if anyone reading this has deep pockets and would like to fund the Culinary Institute of North Texas it would be greatly appreciated.

Textual Feeling: C is Not For Cookie, it’s For Constipation


i like to keep B in the loop when weird things are happening to me.

me: this diet has made me constipated.

B: i could have told you that would happen.

me: it’s ok though.  i’m drinking some sort of all-natural laxative tea.  it’s called Smooth Move.

B: fitting.

me: i thought so.

but seriously, i was constipated.  until the tea fixed everything.  it tasted delicious too.  now i feel like i could take on the world.

this isn’t a plug or anything.  i just thought those in similar situations to mine could utilize the shit tea.

the shit tea in all its glory

i also looked up the website for it.  and there’s a video.  and the doctor that’s always on Oprah is talking about it.  so you know it has to be legit.  but i didn’t watch the video, so there’s a 50% chance that doctor is telling the world the shit tea could kill you.  but then i doubt the shit tea people would put that video on their website.

whatever.

Piggy Pie – Not to be Confused with Insane Clown Posse


so I recently went on a diet.  a crazy diet.  where you get to eat nothing that is fun and do nothing that is fun.  it’s crazy strict and makes me stop drinking alcohol and coffee – which i believe is slowly killing me. 

but i’m losing weight.  so i’ll stop bitching.

i’ve discovered that cocktailing really dominated my free time (believe it or not).  and now that i’m not doing that, and i’m caught up on all the crap tv that i watch, and sometimes the book i’m reading starts to bore me – i find myself itching to find something to do.

surprisingly…i’ve turned to cooking and/or baking (depending on my mood). 

i know.  it makes no sense.

i don’t eat anything that i make.  and i don’t have to worry about it being in the house for too long because lincoln horks it down like a swine.  so i’m good.

but i’ll get to the point.  last night, in the fair city of okauchee, the power went out.  which dashed my plans to make dinner and dessert.  i found myself in quite the predicament.  i had NO diet food cooked up and was at a loss.  lincoln and B suggested we go to the bar.  ugh.

the bar is my Mecca.

but i stayed strong.  i did go.  and while i watched lincoln and B cram fries and various greasy meats down their gullet i enjoyed a measly salad with no dressing and a tiny piece of grilled chicken.

and water.  a lot of water.

but Lincoln and B thought it would be a good idea to order dessert:

dicks

but then WE Energies called.  so i left.  to go home and make these:

mini cheesecakes!

action shot

unusual.  i know.  i’m only know they were somewhat delicious because lincoln did hork one down.  and so did my co-workers. 

score one for the good guys.

thanks to Jenna at Recipe Diaries for the recipe and who has officially got me hooked on her blog.

Sometimes Charles Manson is My Boyfriend


Have you ever dated someone for so long that you lose track of how long you’ve actually been together? 

That’s the boat Lincoln and I are in. 

It’s been since high school and we’ve come to find out that when people ask us how long we’ve been together we just tell them “a decade.”  But it’s been “a decade” for the past three to four years.  Whoops.

Yesterday I was bored (like I always) and started to peruse pictures of Lincolns past.  And there are some fucking priceless ones.

sweet headband.

dick in a box.

it looks like he smelled fart and wants to know who dealt it.

As I looked at more, I realized that most of these pictures involve him and some sort of ridiculous hair.  I don’t know what the obsession is.

grease fail.

i just like guns. and he looks like a terrorist.

But the one that I like the most is the one where he looks like Charles Manson. 

It’s delicious.  And I can’t help but love it. 

Don’t judge me.

mmm, soo hairy.

looks like Manson has some hair-growing to do.

Do you see the resemblance?  Lincoln just needs a swastika tattooed on his forehead. 

But we won’t go there.

Pussy


I just think this picture is funny.  And slightly awkward.

PS – Look how hairy Lincoln’s legs are.