Monday, August 23, 2010

Mall Rats

I really like animals. I've always loved the zoo, watching wild life documentaries, and so on. I will probably always have a pet as long as I live. Because I love them.

My favorite species of animal, though, are the Homo Sapien Sapiens.

Yeah...that's science for humans.

I believe that we are the most interesting, the most amusing, and the most entertaining breed there ever was.

Have any of you ever people watched? For even just a few minutes?! Lawdy, Miss Claudy, people are hysterical!

Let me recount what I have observed.

The other day I was at the mall shopping for some practical belts. (I added this detail because I know you were wondering why I was there.) On my way out, I see this guy out of the corner of my eye flailing his arms and grunting. At first I thought he was just dancing but after closer inspection, it looked more like he was fighting a bear. He was swatting and screaming, "What the hell?! Leave me alone!" I am not even kidding. Turns out he was battling a bumble bee and he was certainly not winning. For a half a second I contemplated going to help him... But really...What was I going to do? Hold my hand out and tell the bee to stop? Was I going to attempt to take on the bee? I felt really bad for the guy but you know what? It was one of the most hilarious things I've seen in a long time. Who will win?! Man? or Bee?

That same day, I pulled out of the mall parking lot and stopped at the next traffic light. While I was waiting for the light to turn green, this gigantic truck pulled up next to me. The guy had completely "pimped" it out. It had tinted windows with the front two rolled down, blue lights, and a BLASTING stereo system. The driver rolled up with his hat on backwards and his black muscle shirt, gripped the top of the steering wheel, looked at me through his sunglasses, and did that weird half nod guys do. I cracked up laughing the rest of the way back. Not out of cattiness. No. Purely out of amusement at the whole silly situation. First I see this guy in a full out brawl with a bumble bee and then I have this other guy in a black muscle shirt half nodding me in the truck to my left.

Good times.

My most recent observation was a couple of days ago when I was shopping (Yet again because I have a severe problem which I completely blame Elizabeth and Ashley for. ;D) with Elizabeth. We were upstairs in Urban Outfitters where they have all their apartment decor. We were just browsing when we heard this loud shatter right behind us. We turned around and see remains of what was once some kind of big glass fixture all over the ground under the shelf it once resided on. Against this shelf was a girl in a bean bag with her mouth and eyes wide open. The girl got up slowly and then BOLTED. She motored right down the stairs and out the door before anyone could stop her. I wonder who did it?

I love humans. I love them so much. When they get upset in traffic, when they run from cops, when they fight bees. All of it. I'll never stop loving them. Know why? Because they are brilliantly funny. Brilliantly.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Gritsy Gritsy

I have a love/hate relationship with grits.
It's extremely intense and freakishly bipolar.

One day, I will love grits so much that I hold them superior to the air I breathe. The next day, I can't even think of the word or I'll vomit in disgust.

It's like Grits Schizophrenia.

I'll go to the store, buy a family size pack, and bring it home to consume in the most gluttonous, horrendous way you could ever imagine.

Pour a pack in the bowl (usually the cheese or butter kind), add water, and pop it in the microwave.

But, wait! Before I do that, I do something shamefully sinful... I add the biggest whopping scoop of butter you've ever seen into that bowl of unrighteousness. *wails* It's the truth!! I might as well use an ice cream scooper! Even if the pack is butter's never enough. I add more...*shivers* So much more....

And I eat that bowl of disgrace. I eat it right up. And I feel no shame. And I don't hate myself after. And I stand up and pronounce that I love grits. I love them more than the air I breathe. And I proclaim that if I could have an IV of grits running into my veins, I'd do it. Because I love grits.

But then something strange happens.

I go to bed and I sleep off the serving of coarsely ground hominy that I just inhaled. I wake up the next day, go make myself some more grits and then I realize something.... I. Hate. Grits.

Seriously, it's just like that. Snap! I'm done. I can't look at them, smell them, or think about them. If someone says "grits" a part of my soul dies and I want to regurgitate the taint that the grits ever left in my body.

I'll go in the living room, plop on the sofa, and say that I don't know what to fix myself for lunch. My roommate will kindly point out that I have a super jumbo family size box of grits in the pantry. "Ew, I don't like grits." She looks at me puzzled and asks, "But didn't you just have all that grits last nig---" 

"Stephanie. I'm going to puke if we keep talking about this."

"....oookay. You feeling all right, Kel? You look a little green..."

"I'm fine...*breaks out into cold sweat* I just can't think of...that food..."

I'll go to the pantry and this guy stares at me with the evilest grin known to mankind.

So then I'm forced to just throw the box away or give it to someone because I can't stand the look he gives me every time I open the cabinet door.

People, I have a problem. A really big problem. A week ago I bought myself a load of grits because I couldn't live a life without them. Today, I rather drink old milk.

By the way, does anyone want my grits?

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Minding My P's and Q's

I usually always try to mind my manners. There are times when I flat out fail but most of the time, I think I have that stuff on lock. From when I was a very little girl, I was taught to be polite, say please, say thank you, and the like. My brother, Bobby, was taught the same, but I think he missed a few points along the way.

When it comes to my brother and me, we are straight up extroverts. 

We are both very adaptable, very comfortable in our own skin, and very, very talkative. So talkative, in fact, that it isn't a rare occurrence for one of us to spit out some foot-in-mouth comment without thinking.

I'm pretty sure that I can speak for Bobby when I say that we never mean these things.

When I told Kori one night that he didn't need to eat dinner, I was not calling him fat. I just didn't want him to sign off the internet. When I told Elizabeth that people shouldn't call me a "hooka face" like they playfully call her sometimes because I wasn't an actual "hooka face," I was in no way saying that she was one. I wasn't!

I swear to you. They were misunderstandings!! MISUNDERSTANDINGS! But you know what? The damage is done. My words are like daggers. I am a soul cruncher. I crunch souls...with my words.

[What is this?!]

The difference between Bobby and me is that I know how to censor what comes out of my mouth for the most part. And Bobby...well...he pretty much verbalizes every thought. The good. The bad. And definitely the ugly.

We've always said that if he keeps spouting off without thinking first and just verbalizes everything that pops into his head, one day he's just going to get what's coming. Could be a pop to the ol' noggin. Could be someone throwing some comment right back in his face. We don't know, but that is the warning we've always given him.

It's been years and not once has this happened. Not a pop, not a comeback, not a thing. The guy is immune. I have never understood it!!

For instance, this one time a woman came over to our house for one of my mom's little get-togethers. She had this thick New Orleans-esque accent that is sometimes referred to as a "yat" dialect. Her voice was best described as "yatty." If you are from New Orleans, you most likely know what I am talking about.

So she's in our house and within the first ten minutes of being in our home, Bobby blurts, "OH MY GOSH. WHY ARE YOU TALKING LIKE THAT?!" *seizure* This is not the first time something like this has happened. There are countless memories where my face has turned crimson and felt like fire because of some thought that would have been better kept just a thought that my brother decided to share. "Here it comes," I thought. "A fist right to the schnoz. An olfactory nerve slugger. Here it is. What we've all been expecting."

But how did this woman react to such a remark? "Haha! I love this kid!!"


If it were me, I'd have a bloody nose. That or the woman would call me a harlett or a dingledorf and storm out.

I don't know how Bobby does it, but he does it. And I am always left mystified as to how the hippo he got away with it.

Meanwhile, Miss Soul Cruncher over here will probably end up on the news after being beaten up by some woman in CVS who mistook my compliment on her hair for some hate crime or something.

And you'll probably get shot for it...unless you are my brother.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Ready to Rock

I'm baaaacckkkk!!!



Hmmm...that's weird. I was so sure this was the hottest site on the web and that everyone and their dog hit up every day and every night.

"What will she say next?! Gosh, she is truly the funniest, most brilliant, most charming woman on this entire planet."

No? Curious...

Anyway, so sorry I've been away! I felt empty without you. Almost like a part of me was missing. 

My computer died a gruesome death a couple of weeks ago and left me in the dust wondering what went wrong. We had a fairly healthy relationship, but Thor - that was my laptop's name - was temperamental as all gods of thunder are. Some days he wanted nothing to do with me, and other days all he wanted was to see me smile. Maybe I pushed him too hard? Who can say now? All I know is that he has been put away only to be exhumed when I need to take things from his hard drive.

A moment of silence for Thor the 17" Toshiba. May he rest in peace....


My mother is an absolute angel. I was out of warranty with Thor so it turned out that just getting a new laptop was cheaper than fixing him. My mom was like, "Well you absolutely need a laptop so just pick one out, let me know what it is, and I will get it for you." I totally wasn't expecting it and she is just way too good to me.

This isn't a laptop actually. It's a netbook. You know what I'm talking about? The mini computers. The ten inchers. Yeah. It's the cutest, little dark red netbook you ever saw.

[Like the strategic placement of the blog on the screen? Smooth, eh? Yeah. You know. Oh, and there is Ashley!! Hai, gurlll.]

So yes, I am back. Ready to rock. Livin' the dream. That's what I do. All day. Every day.

Okay, okay. I've put you through enough. We are done today. See you tomorrow, everyone!!


Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Sorry, I've been out of touch on here.

My computer kicked the bucket for the fifth time. New computer coming soon.