Horrific Christmas Song Lyrics: A Rant

I, like many of you, bask in the Christmas season... The lights, the gift wrapping, and the general feeling of well-being that accompanies this time of year. It is my favorite time of year by far. But I, like many of you, have my goat gotten (it gets my goat?) by the fact that radio stations start playing Christmas music on Halloween, sometimes before (No white or White Christmas BEFORE Labor Day is My vote). The songs are of happiness, of Santa, and of a lot of other stuff that makes me laugh every time I hear it. So here is my list of awful song lyrics, for your consideration:

Disclaimer: I actually adore singing Christmas hymns and songs of the Savior and lament that it's only once a year that we actually sing them. The following is a list that, with few exceptions, has little to do with the actual birth of Christ.

Little St. Nick (Beach Boys):
"Christmas comes this time each year."
In case you wondered, Christmas is NOT, in fact, a semi-annual event.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year:
"There'll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago."
Now, my question is, who tells ghost stories at Christmas? It may have originally coincided with a pagan holiday, but really? We think this might be in reference to the ghosts of A Christmas Carol, but I still find it ridiculous. :)

What Child is This?:
"Haste, haste to bring him laud, the babe, the son of..... Mary."
I can just imagine the lyrics committee on this one... "Hey, can you think of anything that rhymes with 'laud' that would be a Parent of the baby Jesus? No?... Well, okay, we'll put in Mary." It is the only line that doesn't rhyme in the whole song.

Santa Claus Comes Tonight (Elvis):
"So let's give thanks to the Lord above, cuz Santa Claus comes tonight."
Um..... Elvis...... I think your logic might be a little... flawed.

Mary, Did You Know:
Pretty much the whole song. Considering an angel visited both her AND Joseph about the importance of the Savior's birth, I'm pretty sure she knew.

After thinking these up on my own, I took a poll of what others considered the weirdest/most annoying Christmas songs. I was SHOCKED at the passion of these people and their hate for certain Christmas "songs". I didn't mean to bring out so much angst, I promise.. But here's the list:

"All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth... When I was little I had to sing that, because I lost my two front teeth. I was so mad." ~Andrea

Dominique the Donkey! This one got a few votes, and I'm inclined to agree. Cute, yes... Relevant in any way, not really. I did, however, get this helpful bit of knowledge... "Although the donkey is a part of Italian culture, I'm pretty sure they would be appalled by that song. In Italy or the northern part, St. Nicholas has a donkey, and to show appreciation, you leave food out for the donkey." ~Alesha

The Holly and the Ivy... When I was a child (this was not a part of the poll, just a personal side note), I thought the line that said, "The running of the deer" said "The ROTTING of the deer"... It always grossed me out.

I had several votes for "Santa Baby", which is probably the furthest from Christmas you can get, but we agreed that it is also funny depending on the mood you're in.

Okay, and I have to put one in for The Christmas Shoes song. While it makes my mother cry, it only makes me roll my eyes. Here's this mom dying, and her son is, where? Is he by his dying mother's side? NO! He's out buying her shoes. Does she even know where he is? Does the dad care? Is the dad even there? If not, this kid's got lots more to do than buy shoes... like... be put up for adoption (Don't hate. I know this is insensitive. Just sayin it like it is.).

"I have a hard time taking 'Little Drummer Boy' seriously cuz of the pa rum pa rum pum or whatever it is." ~Brittney
Also for this song: "It is weird and has nothing to do with the Christmas story and the events being described are like a pipe dream. Plus, the song has no discernible ending."~Keil
I wonder what mother would be okay with a kid playing a drum around her newborn baby. Just sayin.
"I hate 'The Little Drummer Boy'. Where in the scriptures does it talk about a drum?" ~Kimberly

Okay, I also just found, with a little help from my family (Also, I have been reminded that the non-fitting-in-the-meter lyrics of "What Child Is This" was Andi's idea), THE LEAST CHRISTMASY CHRISTMAS SONG EVER!!! First of all, it's by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton. What a combo! And its lyrics are, in part, as follows:

You've made this a Christmas to remember
Springtime feelings in the middle of December
Strangers meet and willingly surrender
Oh, oh, what a Christmas to remember.

Almost went to Aspen but something told me no
I considered Mammoth but there wasn't enough snow
And I even thought of Gattlinburg but that seemed so far to go
So I headed up to Tahoe for a Christmas on the slopes.

And I had fantasized about Christmas in this way
Curled up by a fireplace in a Tahoe ski chalet
With a fast talking lover with some slow burning wood
But even in my wildest dreams it never got this good.

And you've made this a Christmas to remember
Springtime feelings in the middle of December
Change the radio and I'll turn the lights down dimmer
Oh, oh, what a Christmas to remember.

Yipes! It reminds me of the scene in Love Actually when there are whales and Spiderman-kings and more than one lobster in the Nativity play!

"'Frosty the Snowman'! It's the thumpity thump thump part that kinda weirds me out."~Aimee

"I don't care for 'Happy Holidays' as it's rather politically correct."~Adam

There were SO MANY votes for "Last Christmas.", for the following reasons:
"The way the guy says 'special' is just creepy." ~Christa
(Also have you ever noticed the guy says "gev" instead of "gave", EVERY TIME?)
I gev you my heart...
"Yeah... What is this, a black market for organs? That doesn't even jive within the structure of the metaphor!" ~Matthew

"'I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas'... No one actually wants a hippo, they are ginormous and even though they are vegetarians, I think they could still kill me." ~Skyla
Someone else submitted one but quickly sent this instead: "NO!! I HATE!!! the song, 'I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas!' I hate it. And I find it silly. In a bad way." ~Scott
Also, thank you to About.com for the following information: "Despite being a vegetarian, the hippo is responsible for more human fatalities in Africa than any other animal, making it Africa's most dangerous beast."

"I'm not too good with titles. 'He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake' should raise all sorts of red flags." ~Matthew

"O Christmas Tree. Because I'm not German." ~Scott

"'Santa, Baby'. Isn't he married, and not so easily flattered?" ~Christopher

"'Baby, It's Cold Outside'. It's a date rape song." ~Delaina
Say, what's in this drink? And she wants to go but he wants her to stay... It's awful. I never saw it this way, but I'm sure I'll never see it the same way again.

"The 'Do you hear what I hear?' song. It's a travesty." ~Jenny
Along with her duly noted opinion, I wonder why the shepherds don't freak out when the sheep starts talking. But I guess the song wouldn't be as effective if it said, "Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy, 'Baaaaaaaaaa.'

"'The 12 Days of Christmas'. Everyone and their dog has their own version of it."~Katie A.

"'Bring the Torch, Jeanette, Isabella.' Why can't I bring the torch? I would be really good!" ~Katie F.
I told her that was an excellent idea and she said she would start practicing a week before. I said to start small, like with a lighter or something and she said, "Baby steps. I will start with my phone lit up."

"Also, anything by Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand should be RIGHT OUT, not even considered Christmas songs. They're Jewish! Capitalizing on the birth of someone you don't even believe in... Come on now."~Andi

"The weird one is 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus'. It killed my faith in Santa. And it made me think of my mom as an unfaithful woman and Santa as a homewrecker."~Grisel

"I saw 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas' on the official KKK website during the holiday season back in high school once." ~Matthew

So thank you all for your holiday cheer, we'll see if next year brings anything new!

"What?! I'm fired? I only snaze..."

I had a dream once. I use the word "dream" very loosely, because it was more like a psychological disturbance, a kink in the REM waves or something. It was about a rat factory. Prior to my dream, I had never known there to be such a thing, nor would I think about rats at length. In fact, among my top five fears (which also includes job interviews) are mice in the house. The entire dream was drab, gray, and looked like an illustration Stephen Gammell would do (see http://jschancellor.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/scarystorysamsnewpet-1.jpg). My job as a rat factory worker was to separate the dead rats from the live rats. COULD THERE BE A WORSE JOB?
I submit that there can. Or at least, one that's neck-and-neck. And that is...
A feather packaging plant.
Now, you may be asking yourself, "Kami (actually, you would say "Self", since you're asking yourself...lol), how could working with soft, downy feathers compare to taking rats off a conveyor belt?" But just consider this. If you sneeze, feathers would go E-VE-RY-WHERE. Drafts, same sad story. An 8-hour a day shift of that would be enough to drive anyone to the madhouse (where hopefully they are down pillow-less)! I wonder what staff meetings are like for feather-packing employees. For some reason I picture the managing staff like the aunts on James and the Giant Peach... One, really tall, gangly, and spectacled and the other short, stout, and ornery. Both in suits, both ready with tazer in hand.
"Do not sneeze. If you sneeze, you will be terminated.
Do not open doors. If you open a door, you will be terminated.
Do not open windows. If you open a window, you will be terminated.
Do not whistle. If you whistle, you will be terminated.
Do not move unnecessarily. If you move unnecessarily, you will be terminated.
Do not breathe out. Or in. ..."


Which brings me to another point that has nothing to do with rats, Stephen Gammell, or staff meetings, and that is the English language, and, more specifically, a tense I have originally devised. Say the word "breathed". "Breathe-D". It's a horrid noise to add to an innocent atmosphere. So, for each word that has a "long e" sound (for all who are not English buffs, those are words like breathe, leap, sleep), in the past, it is now changed to a "long a" sound, with (and this is important), NO D at the end. For example:
Breathed becomes ---> Brathe (ahhh, isn't that a breath of fresh air? It sounds so much cleaner)
Leaped becomes -----> Lape
etc.

So, in the morning you can say, "I lape into bed last night", or "Hey, I snake up on you, and you didn't even see me", or "Dang, I just brathe in a bug"... Things like that.
Try it out! You won't go back!

Car Confusion

I have a beast of a car, an '85 Chevrolet Caprice Classic. Its name is Moby, because at one point it was a "great white whale". Now it's more of a cream/gold color, but the name stuck. I keep a stuffed whale on the dashboard, I have to hit the radio to get it to work, three of the doors open funny and the fourth doesn't open at all, and it has no headliner so I have people sign my ceiling. It is an old car (heck, maybe I should take that to the Antiques Roadshow!). So, I decided on a brilliant strategy, and that is: Buy a "new car" scented air freshener. That way, people will see my car and say, "Wow, that is an old car." BUT, when they get inside (once they can figure out how to jimmy the doors), they will be more or less transported to a different dimension/generation, and say, "Wait. Is this a new car?" and slyly I will wring my hands, mission accomplished and say, "Yes, why yes it is."

A brand-new car.

Ah, ah, ah (mischievious laughter).

The Rings of Saturn: Truth Revealed

I remember well, learning about astronomy as a child... Making styrofoam ball planets, watching Bill Nye the Science Guy bike to where those planets would be proportionally in the galaxy... Learning mind-riveting facts about each...

Like Saturn. We learned that the rings of Saturn are made of meteor rock and ice, which apparently reflect light much like a rainbow does. I, however, have discovered that science has been deceiving us all along. Through experience, mostly that of losing countless "other" socks and virtually millions of bobby pins, I have made my own discovery, which is that the rings of Saturn are actually made up of just lots of lost stuff. Your dryer is an intergalactic transporter, which keeps only one sock of any given pair and SHOOTS the other one off into space, to be collected into Saturn's rings, where it is held to another by bobby pins. The same rule applies to lost luggage... It is also flung into space. In fact, all those things you say, "Now what did I do with that?" could well be attributed to the same galactic problem. So wonder no more where your screwdriver went, or why you can't seem to locate your 5-year old*. Saturn. It's all about Saturn.

*I do not actually advocate misplacing children and blaming it on a planet.

Some things I wish I'd been the first to think of...

Summer is drawing to a close. I've already gone on a wonderful bike ride, explored my crafty side, worked, and taken a nap today. I also looked up room murals online, for some elusive future day when I am settled down and established. I've also been finding little gems here and there in my search to do so. I wanted to share, because, well, sharing is caring.
I thought this one was hilarious. My brother suggested putting real banana peels, but I thought, yeah, right! I've seen what happens to Peach's little racer when she hits one of those! Just don't hit the blue spiky ball. Those things are a killer!
Aw, dang. I know there's the Engrish thing... But I honestly don't think this is a joke!
This. Is. Ingenious. If only I had had these in my Advanced Spanish Grammar and Comp. class!
These are not gingerbread cookies. These are... Ninjabread cookies. They pack a punch, and probably somehow improve your reflexes by a light year or so.
I am so glad, and yet sad, that someone made this picture before I could. Sad because it means my "original" idea wasn't that original after all... And glad because I have had conversations about this exact topic before. UniCORN? I mean really, shouldn't they be called uniHORNS? No wonder they're extinct now. That stuff is de behst.... "Get that corn outta my face!"
I only wish I could see this in action for real. "Luke, I am your father. And because I am your father, I get to hit the pinata first." *slice and coterize*
"Nooooooo! That's not true! That's impossible!"
Oh, brother. Puns will never die, I suppose. Can't lie though, it made me laugh...

Hope you enjoy! I'm sure more will be on the way.

Swine Time

Pig heads are gross. And I think it's unfortunate that they always seem to die mid-bite. Can't people just let them finish the apple for once?

The Ultimate Antiques Roadshow

Saturday evening used to always bring baths, curlers, and the Lawrence Welk Show. Lawrence Welk is... for old people. Antiques Roadshow, on the other hand is not. Well, not necessarily. It used to be for old (ahem, "experienced") things. You know, people bring in their vases and family heirlooms, tell the story of the item, and get it appraised to see if it will pay for Great Aunt Ethel's estate, since she didn't leave it to you in the will. But I have discovered a way to bring a little.... creativity... to the show.
I want to go onto the set of Antiques Roadshow with my grandparents, or maybe someone else's. At first they will think I've brought them on set so they can see all the "swell" antiques and even get something appraised... But when I get to the front of the line, I will PLUNK the person onto the table and say That's what I want appraised. I admit that this may seem a little unorthodox, but keep in mind I am not SELLING people, I am merely getting them appraised (the decision of whether to sell them or not comes at a later date and after measuring pros and cons on a piece of paper). At any rate, my guess is it will bring in a sweet sum, for many good and valid reasons.
The conversation will go something like this. "This is a completely original item. I got it from my great-grandmother. I still have the certificate of authenticity. It's in its original packaging, and you can tell it's an original by looking at the shape of the nose. There has been some slight discoloration over time in the hair and face, as well as some evidential oxidation in the teeth. There has also been slight damage to the surface through time. Still very valuable, though, as it looks like many others but is, in fact, a one-of-a-kind item."

The only problem is...
Old people that are twins.

Twinkies: The cure-all food

Until a highly credible Internet source ("Big Mama Jane's Shark Shanty Blog") proved me wrong, I was under the assumption that Twinkies had an indefinite shelf life. Or at least a shelf life of a few decades. Under this assumption, I planned on living forever. How?
Well, if I eat enough Twinkies, my body will be so full of preservatives that my body will basically be immortal. Then, after another 20 years or so, BAM, another case of Twinkies (bought in bulk, of course) and I'm good to go for a while more. In this way, I will also maintain my youthful beauty (give or take (meaning give) 50 pounds or so). Lard gives a radiant glow. I've heard they are still good after nuclear blasts! Heck, they probably cure cancer. Okay, maybe not, and Mama Jane says they are only Actually good for 25 days on the shelf... Still, I say it's worth a shot. Just in case.

Oh, and just for information's sake, it only takes 45 seconds to explode a Twinkie in the microwave, says Hostess, and far less than that for your mom to pitch a fit about it.

Also, Mama Jane may or may not exist.

Scientific Theory: Why Women Shop

I have made a scientific discovery! It explains the reasons behind why women feel the impulsive need to shop. And this has real roots. I'm not making this up. I discovered it in my very own brain.
Please forgive the generalization, but I think it is safe to say that women are cleaner than men. We do less dirty work, we are more concerned about fancy gels and nice-smelling body washes, and we wash our hands more because we cook more. And this is where science comes in.
Did you know that the main component of soap is an ingredient called triclosan?
Let's look at this again.
Tri-clos-an
Try clothes on.

Is it any wonder that women shop more than men? These subliminal messages are everywhere! There is nothing, as women, that we can do, except stop practicing everyday hygiene. Sorry men!

ShamWow! update

You know, I've been thinking (a dangerous pastime). And upon further reflection, I have discovered how ShamWow can actually solve three, yes THREE, global crises. Tsunamis are a pretty big deal... Nothing to joke about, that's for sure. They destroy shoreline villages and cause all sorts of problems. But with ShamWow, the villagers can just line up along the shoreline, and hold up their ShamWows in the direction of the incoming storm! Forget sandbagging, these miraculous products will just absorb all the rushing, threatening water! THEN, when said storm is ceased, the villagers can send the ShamWows with some international humanitarian organization like the Girl Scouts and they can take them to a dry and crusted up third-world country and BAM, parched earth alleviated. And since the ShamWows are then more or less useless until another storm hits (so they don't suck up some unsuspecting person's body liquids), they can also be stuck into cracks that have been caused by earthquakes, making the ground not only even, but also very cushy and soft. Thank you, ShamWow, for helping the earth once again.

Car Alarms

I'm curious. What is the first thing you think of when you hear a car alarm? I know I think, "Turn Off Your Goll Durn Car Alarm!" Very rarely do I think, "Oh, shoot. Someone's car is being stolen." It's so common that even if someone's car WERE being stolen, no one would bat an eye! Now I make it a point to be worried when I hear one. Just in case.

The Sporklift

I don't remember if I mentioned this in my previous post about "Things That Should be Outlawed", you know, things like woman mullets and Lionel Richie,but also among that list is sporks. I think they are more or less useless. I know, I know, you may disagree with me on this, but before you skewer me with spork shards, let me explain. The fork part of the spork, I mean the prongs, are so short you really can't skewer anything worth eating, and the spoon part is too shallow to actually pick up much liquid. So sporks remain the most useless invention of all time, next to Kenny G. (and his tour bus). Upon further thought, however, I have discovered something good has come out of this cutlery that may actually benefit mankind. And that, my friends, is: the sporklift. The sporklift is part bulldozer, part forklift. It can dig stuff up and hoist it in the next second! The sporklift saves heavy machinery companies millions, or at least tens, of dollars in both production costs, and the costs associated with running over convenience stores in a mad frenzy to have lunchtime donuts. It is useful on many fronts. I am curious to see just what CATERPILLAR has to say about this one.

ShamWOW! death

I spent some time with my friend Brandt Hurley yesterday. He is one funny chap. And we play off each other very well. He told me once that he is afraid of Sham WOW, you know, the stuff used to dry off a car (the "As Seen On TV" version of a chamois).. I asked him why, and he said, "Because those things suck out water! I'M 70% WATER!!"

Touche.

I think we would all to well to not touch these dangerous products, unless we all want to become human mummy-raisins.

Artificial Fruit

There are many things in this world I do not understand. Like neck beards. And dish sponges. And old people driving. But also included in this list are artificial flavorings. I mean, I understand why they exist... you don't want everything tasting like glorified air... But mostly I refer to fruit flavorings. It seems that across the board, grape candies all taste the same. But do they actually taste like grape? NO! Never have I had a candy, with MAYBE the exception of Jelly Bellies, that tastes like grape when it advertises to taste like grape. In fact, it's the same with nearly every fruit flavor out there. Banana candy does NOT taste like banana, and watermelon candy certainly does not taste like its supposed fruit either. I suppose if they did, we would prefer to just eat the fruit itself, which would run the candy business to the ground. Shame, shame.

Just for the record, though, Jelly Belly does a fabulous job. Their Bertie Bott's dirt flavored jellybean actually tasted like dirt. And cherry, across the board, is usually pretty close to reality.

Slow and steady does not win the race... Unless everyone is slower and steadier.

What a summer. I say that with a sigh, because it has been One Dramatic Summer. And frankly, I am ready for it to be over. Last Thursday I was coming home from work (home health aide, I work nights) when I stopped behind a delivery-type truck and an SUV on a residential road about a block from my apartment complex. The truck had merged left to make a wide right turn and did not have either blinker on. So the SUV must have assumed it was going to turn left but as it went to pass on the right, the truck went to turn right. Since the SUV was in the truck's blind spot, the truck hit the SUV, which also ran into a parked car, overcorrected, and flipped on its side, shattering glass and spilling the contents of the front seat onto the road. I was the only car on the road and did not see many people walking (it was only about 7:30 a.m.). I probably should have stopped to see what I could do, but my phone was dead and my car charger does not work, so instead I raced home to call 911. I found the closest parking spot and ran like I've never run before even though things were flinging out of my purse all over the parking lot. But unfortunately, my mind was going much faster than my body could handle and I fell over on the sidewalk, scraping up my ankle and making me a gimp for several days. When I Did call 911, there were already police and an ambulance on the scene. Go figure!

Saturday my roommates Anna and Natalie were going to do a mini-triathlon here at BYU-I. I decided to do it too, kind of. I was wishy-washy about it all week, and leaning toward the "no" kind of decision. I was about to chicken out, though I Did bike 5 miles on Wednesday just in case... But Saturday morning at 8:15 (we were supposed to sign in at 8:30), I decided I would regret not doing it if I just stayed in bed. So I got up, stretched, and grabbed my road bike and helmet and went to the track. We were to run 1.5 miles, bike 6, and swim 8 lengths of the pool. I knew I could do each of those events individually, but wasn't sure about all of them together. I came in last in the running, and grabbed my bike just as a guy was hitching his two children to the back of his bike (not the actual children, they were in like a cart thing). We biked to the temple and kept going to Pole Line Road, where we biked another mile or so and turned around. The first three miles with the exception of maybe 1/8 of a mile were uphill, but it made for a really nice ride back. Since my roommates and I could not rent swimsuits (we had all forgotten our I-cards to rent clothing at the gym), we all had to return to our apartment in between events to change, which I did. Oh, may I note that the trailer-kid-bike-guy was ahead of me the entire biking portion of the race. When I got to the pool, there was no one else in it. My roommates cheered me on from the sidelines. And I finished. It took me 1 hour and 44 minutes-the longest cardio workout I've probably ever done all at once, and I was really proud of myself, even if I did finish dead last. The point of all this? Slow and steady will not win you any races, but it will keep you from keeling over while the fast and steady take the gold.

Talking Underwater

I have discovered a simple way to write as if you are speaking underwater.

First, take any word. We'll say "merman" just for fun.

Then, replace all the vowels with the letters "RL".

Mrlmrln

Try it out!

"Graphic" Design

I was on my shift at the pizza place where I work, doing the menial task of rolling dough for pizza crusts when I noticed a sign on the wall. It said "HANDS IN COULD MEAN HANDS OFF" and it had a picture of a severed hand. I wish I could find the actual sign to post, but alas, it doesn't come up in a Google images search.


Anyway, the sign sure made its point, as I will NOT be sticking my hands in the hopper (whatever that even is... It's just what the machine says. "DO NOT PLACE HANDS PAST HOPPER".). But this particular sign got me thinking. Not about the sign itself, but about the job associated therewith. How do you GET into that line of work? Does it take a degree? If so, what is it? I would certainly agree that it is "graphic" design! I'd say! Some of these signs even have blood on them! Yikes! If it were me, I'd probably have nightmares after work. Come to think of it... I'd probably have daymares DURING work!

"What does your dad do for a living?"
"He's a dentist. How about yours?"
"Oh, he draws bleeding, dismembered limbs for signs."

While I was looking for the signs you see above, I came across some slightly less serious ones.

I almost wish it didn't have the "Also, the bridge is out ahead" note on the bottom, because a sign like this by itself would be awesome. Like, why do we even HAVE this sign?

I see this kind of thing on the streets all the time. If only people would pay attention! It's truly unfortunate that you can be minding your own business and BAM!.. there's a big jagged arrow in your spleen.
I don't know what organization this is from... But I think they mean business. Just a hunch.

Have You Seen This Sandwich?

So... In my free time, I have been trying to think of some things I want to accomplish this summer, like making a quilt for the first time, learning to clog, getting in shape, obtaining all my food storage, and some not-so-practical things like throwing a tomato into a fan and spending a full day in my hammock (just kidding, that would kill after like 6 or 7 hours. And I would have to pay a minion to bring me my meals).

So I thought the other day, how wonderfully juvenile would it be to put up "MISSING" signs for things that no one would really miss? Like a grilled cheese sandwich? So... I did. This is the beauty of being a single college student. My friend Jen Jimison and I made sandwiches, took pictures, and even had an "age enhanced" photo of a sandwich, which was made after the other ones, with an old piece of bread (yes, it had a bit of mold on it).




Then, I biked around Rexburg putting signs up.


I had some obnoxious texts sent back to me like "Maybe it's in the toilet.. Do I get the cash reward still?"... Nothing really of note. But today there was a letter on my door.








"I have found your grilled cheese sandwich. If you wish to see him back alive, you will pay the ransom of $3.00. Send a text message to (number withheld) to set up meeting points. Do not call trying to trace the call. If you do not meet any of my demands your grilled cheese sandwich will pay the price.

To prove to you that I am serious please take note of this picture."

Whew! I actually felt sad when I saw this picture! My poor sandwich! What kind of person would do this?

I may comply, but I'm sure we will need to negotiate set price.

Barf Bears

So... This summer I am off track at school and only working nights. This leaves me with an immense amount of time to do what I love to do best, namely: sleeping, biking, and lounging around in my hammock.

Initially, I had big plans to write a book with some of my best ideas/theories... But decided instead to just blog them. The word "blog" makes me think of bog, or some kind of ogre barfing.

Speaking of vomiting (I know, what a way to begin the post, right?), the other day I entered the word "Barf" in the prediction mode of my cell phone's texting. Since "case" and "care" use the same letters as barf, "Barf" actually comes up before "care". So often, when I say things like, "Take care", if I'm not careful, it will come out as "Take barf." Which is funny, let's be honest. So my friend Jarrett and I kind of had a go with this and here are some of the ones we came up with. My apologies for how many times the word "Barf" is used in this post.

"Would you like some hair barf products?"

"Oral barf products!"

"All you really barf about is me!"

"Always remember that it was your mom who taught you how to barf!"

"Would you barf to go on a date with me?"

And in response to any such question...

"I would not barf to see a movie tonight."

"I would not barf for any ice cream."

"I cannot believe how much you barf for people."

"This vacuum will barf for all your carpet needs."

"I really won't barf if you leave!"

And Jarrett... "Man, those are dang good ones. You are making me laugh and hungry. I am totally stopping for a dollar cone at McDonalds! Do you barf if I eat it in the car?"

"Man, I haven't seen Barf Bears in years! Want to watch it with me?"

"Handle with Barf"

and two of my personal favorites...

"I have always given great barf to the lady I work with."

"I wouldn't judge you or barf if you had bulimia."