A wikipedia entry that made me laugh out loud

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_von_Count

How'd that get there?

There’s a game I like to play with myself called (as the title of this post may suggest), “How’d that get there!?!” It is a game I have a hard time getting away from. See, there is an imagination spectrum, and most people fall somewhere between creative-when-they-need-to-be and functionally logical. I am, and much prefer those who are also, on the opposite side, the completely bonkers side. For example… this can be played in normal situations: I was going through security at o’hare the other day, and I placed my computer and my shoes in a bin. After going through the beepy thing, I went to grab my possessions, and saw that only ONE shoe was in the tray. After a bit of carrying on, and thinking about how I was going to get home with one shoe (and how much I really like my shoes…), I noticed my missing shoe in the tray of another gentleman, two trays behind mine on the belt. Now, how’d that GET there??! Logical: While going down the conveyor belt, the shoe was jostled and fell into the tray behind it. That particular tray was full, so the shoe was bumped to the next available tray. Unlikely, but a bit more creative: The TSA fellow likes to meddle in the affairs of unsuspecting passengers. The reason I sometimes find my lipstick missing two days after flying is because Johnny placed it into the briefcase of the man behind me. His wife is calling for a divorce. Bonkers: Gremlins. Big shoe-eating gremilins who live inside of the tsa cameras, and swoop down whenever they see ballet flats. Eat them right up. This particular ballet flat, however, didn’t quite agree with this particular gremlin’s gremliny digestive track, so he pooped it out right after eating it whole. At this time, another tray happened to be directly under his gremliny behind. Gremlins, of course, have no bodily fluids, so most of what they poop out is about as clean as it was when it went in. Sometimes cleaner. This can also be played in hypothetical situations. Or used to screen potential friends: For example: A piece of iceberg lettuce is resting gently on the top of the chimney of a three-story house? How’d THAT get there!!? Logical (aka someone I would choose to work with on a project of great importance, but would not invite out for a beer afterwards): Was it windy? Perhaps someone was eating a salad nearby and an updraft took a piece? Creative (but slightly boring): The family that lives in the house was having a rooftop picnic to watch some kind of parade? The menu included some kind of salad? Bonkers (aka new best friend/soulmate): This didn’t happen on July 13th did it? Because if it did that would make perfect sense, as that is the day The great Marthilda returns. Marthilda, the 4-story tall Lady of the Bluebirds, who parades through the boulevards, amassing a great coat of bluebirds, as all flock to attach themselves to her. Marthilda, with her wig entirely made of iceberg lettuce, must have bumped into a lightpole, knocking loose one small piece, which fell to rest on a nearby chimney.

out of touch

I just saw a group of girls all fancied up for going out and wondered to myself what kind of costume party they were going to (something with a theme that requires one to wear heels and makeup). It has been exactly that long since I have tried to look presentable to the public.

Baseball is Lame

by rachel Let me tell you why baseball is lame It’s a slow and very boring game Folks standing around Staring at the ground Yes, Baseball is lame, I proclaim It's a game where they score very little The players, they’re quite noncommittal They’d rather be home Or maybe in Rome On a bench munching on peanut brittle Maybe the sole sport should be Nascar Every weekend on at every bar This sport’s got the mullets Pour Beer down your gullets And send baseball away very far

B.O. Threat Level Index

-1: I swear! My boyfriend SWEATS cologne!

0*: I never have BO OR Sweat! I am so jealous of people who do! I run five miles a day, am in great shape, and never sweat or stink—it totally sucks! I don’t really even need to wash my clothes but sometimes they stretch out when I wear them. I wish I had to do laundry and wear deodorant like normal people!

1*: I sweat when I work out or if it’s really hot outside, but I never really smell. It’s kind of weird. Sometimes I wish I did so I could prove it to someone that I’m a real man.

2: No—I said it was ‘cute’ b.o.! You smell like ‘aww cute—she probably did yoga today and sweat a teensy bit’ but not like you need to shower or anything**

3: Hm. Yep. That’s B.O. alright. Textbook.

4. Is someone cutting onions? Why is someone cutting onions at work? Oh. Oh my—oh holy lord in heaven! That is SO not onions!

5. I wonder how long I can hold my breath. I wonder if I can carry on a conversation with this person without breathing. I wonder if i would rather die from lack of oxygen to the brain or from asphyxiation by a cloud of bad b.o.

6. I need a new chair. Stinky MacStink sat in this chair before me, and no amount of Febreeze is going to right his wrongs

____ *Also known as the ‘bitch’ levels. What do you MEAN you wish you sweat and smelled ?Are you fucking crazy??? People like you are the reason that people hate other people.

**Calling it ‘cute b.o.’ does not negate the fact that you told me I smelled. You know who you are. How the hell am I supposed be okay with that?? Of course I’m going to shower!!

Emotions are hard

Upon seeing this today at my local supermarket...

Awe: "Wow. Is that a lambcake?! That is super sweet!" Amusement: "Oh--Easter! Ha! An easter lamb because it's for easter, but a cake because people are coming over to celebrate, and they'll be hungry!" Ambition: "I should totally buy that. That would be hilarious and ironic, since i'm a pagan who is allergic to cake." Shame: "Oh that is bad. There are people all around me preparing for Easter and celebrating Jesus. They are better people than me and they deserve their cake. And i wouldn't probably even eat the cake and there are starving jesuspeople all over the world" Blame: "No! No they do not deserve their cake! Why should i feel guilty for wanting a funny eastercake?! The should feel guilty for eating a lamb, which is secular and violent! They shouldn't get the lambcakes AND eternal salvation!" Superiority: "I know that if i was one of them i would never do that to Jesus. if i was religious, i'd be one of those religions where you had to stay home praying on the days where people were out praying to santa claus and the cadberry bunny" Distraction: "Ooh! Capri Sun is on sale!"

Down with muumuus!!!

I fiercely object to the muumuu/pregnant dress trend. This has gone on LONG ENOUGH! These dresses (which happen to be the ONLY dresses at 90% of dress-carrying shops) are an assault on womankind. NO ONE LOOKS GOOD IN THEM! No one, I suppose, except pregnant women, but only because everyone knows they are pregnant, so it is perfectly acceptable for them to look like they have a gigantic midsection. Small people look large and misshapen Medium to large people look xtra large. Like a pear on stilts, if you will. Case in point: mannequins were created to make clothes look good. That is their ONLY job! and not even professional making-clothes-look-gooders can pull this shit off!! Why the FUCK aren’t they gone yet!!??! Me and my waist want to buy a dress, and we can’t!!! We cannot find a dress that does not make us look like we plan on going to a barbeque today to pig out, and therefore need as very much stomach-growing room as possible. You can't wear that nonsense to work! And bbq season isn’t even here yet.

Freudian Slip?*

I just spent a wonderful weekend in DC with my aunt and uncle. They're two of my favorite people, and my fondest wish is to someday have a life very similar to the one they live. I have already fallen in love with a hilarious scientist, so i am halfway to filling my aunt's shoes. We were sitting at our/my favorite fancy French bistro, dining on some godfood discussing their recent stay at the Mandarin Oriental (heavenly DC hotel--as a birthday/anniversary celebration). Uncle: So there we are, enjoying an amazing, romantic, 11-course meal. Each course was two to three bites of heaven, paired with its own wine selection. The wine guy--" Aunt: Sommelier, Tony--that's what the 'wine guy' is called." Uncle: The sommelier would come over prior to each glass and tell us a bit about it--you know, the normal 'aged in oak barrels for x number of years' stuff. Well around the eighth or ninth course, he comes by. 'I think you'll enjoy this one. It's from South Africa, a crisp '98, with vaginal undertones.'" (This line, of course, was followed by a somewhat restrained spit-take from yours truly.) Self: "Um. 'Vaginal?'" Aunt and Uncle (in unison): I know! Uncle: We didn't know if we were drunk from 8 glasses of wine, or if that's actually what he said. We asked him to repeat himself, but it still sounded the same. Me: Well, um... did it? Have um those undertones? Uncle: Yeah, pretty much. I can't wait until I'm a cultured grown up and can go fancy places to drink vaginawine. *It should be noted that i desperately wanted to call this post 'Freudian Slit,' but that's vulgar and unladylike.

confession

I think it's kind of hot when a guy bites his nails. I know its supposed to be gross, but a nail-chewing dude will never be a long-nailed dude and I am very okay with that.

two planes passing in the night

I just witnessed two planes crossing paths--one heading into OHare, and one heading out. Tonight I will be telling myself a bedtime story about two imaginary passengers--one on each plane. They're long-distance lovers, each with the intent to surprise the other by showing up at his/her home for their April 24th anniversary. Not sure how it will end yet. Hopefully neither of them falls in love with a fellow passenger and decides they can't handle long distance and should probably call it quits. That would be a horrible ending. Plus, I'd probably be up all night trying to figure out how to send messages to each of them saying not to give up.

On Olives

"Do you like olives, R?" "Um. Yeah--i mean--i kind--of... I like the fancy ones? But not the ones in Jars? Or maybe i like the ones in jars but not in cans? But i really like the ones i like..." ___ After 23 years of not liking olives, my aunt exposed me to something called an 'olive bar.' That of course, being a buffet of fancy olives of different earth tones, to be combined in some kind of deli container, and charged at a higher price than you'd like to pay, but not as high as you'd pay if you knew how good they'd taste (which, of course, my aunt did). I wondered to myself, how is it that i love 'olives' but hate 'olives.' I get that a green olive and a black olive taste differently (do they? i kind of always stayed away from both), but i always hated them both... until they were sold in an 'olive bar.' Am i an olive snob? I have never really considered myself a food snob, and i'm not crazy enough about olives to define myself by the way i feel about them... Until i discovered... today... In case you've been wondering too... Brine. and Oil. ___ "Hey R, do you like olives?" "Yeah--love if they're in oil, but can't really do the ones packed in brine. I guess it's a tecture thing."

A Fresh Start

Author’s Note: After one week of experimental blogging, some soul searching, a brief consideration of putting an end to my blogging career, and a bit of primary and secondary research on exactly what a blog is (as I am new to readership, and even newer to writership), I am revising my blog strategy. I now realize that I need to think before i blog, and consciously decide which thoughts belong in a blog, which should be reserved for the book I inevitably will have to write, and which should be simply shared aloud with close friends (also, the none of the above option: keep it to yourself). I commit to use this forum to discuss (condensed versions of) my internal musings and motivations, and experiences which I think may be of interest to my readership. I will also work to make it more interesting, through the inclusion of applicable cell phone pictures taken by, um, me (to aviod unintentional copyright infringement--my biggest fear). I fully acknowledge that I am somewhat of a weirdo, so only a small percentage of my brainthoughts will be universal. Thank you for your time.

Jokemurder

If i were in a bad mood, and i were telling a few jokes, they'd probably go this way, instead of the way that jokes are supposed to go. (They are supposed to go the funny way. Because they're Jokes.) What if Jokes Weren't Funny By Rachel, Age 27 Why did the chicken cross the road? Because he knew he needed to catch the bus, which was due relatively soon, and he was not able to catch it from the side of the road he was on at the time. He realized when he looked up at the bus stop and saw that he was poised to catch the northbound bus that, unless he changed his desired end point, he would need to catch the southbound. Which was across the road. So he crossed the road. Which i believe answers your original question. A priest and a rabbi walked into a bar… And discussed the possibilities for interfaith teambuilding, or possibly mediation in the cases where teambuilding is not yet possible. When they felt they had reached a solution, their conversation naturally progressed to a discussion of their mutual support of the Obama administration. Why did the monkey fall out of the tree? Gravity and lack of coordination. Following this unfortunate incident, said monkey contacted a physical therapist. They’re slowly working on recovery, and the monkey’s inner thigh muscles are halfway to where they need to be to be. The goal is to work with the monkey, physically and emotionally, to assure him that he will be much more prepared, and thus less likely to fall from the next tree he climbs. A horse walked into a bar… It was in a bar that serves as a ‘rest stop’ along a riding trail. The rider was parched, saw the bar, and decided to take the opportunity to find something to drink (it was sunny that day, and he felt the beginnings of sunstroke—an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, his pappy always said). He took the rope attached to his horse’s bridle and tied it to the tree, using the method explained by the ranch-hand. Apparently, he missed the second loop, because the horse easily freed itself. Upon realization that that he was untethered, the horse began to wander. Coincidentally enough, the first place he wandered was into the bar where the aforementioned rider was enjoying a glass of club soda. With lime. Knock Knock... Would you mind coming back in half an hour? I've got a lot going on, and I'm honestly just not up for company. If you have a package, my neighbor can sign for it. Actually... If I'm honest with you--I will probably come up with another excuse when you come back, so if you wanted to just move onto the next place, or have your ride pick you up or something, that might work out better for you personally. There's a bar around the corner if you want to wait--I think they have $3 PBRs tonight. If you really want to take a gamble and come back there's a slim chance i'll be bored and let you in, but i think House is on tonight so the chance is REALLY slim.

Overrated

It's occurring to me that you, fictional blog readership, may wonder why, in my recent post of the benefits of living alone, i did not mention one thing, in either the Food or the Filth category. One thing you REALLY expected to find, which is, of course, eating/drinking 'straight from the carton.' The reason that i didn't mention this, of course, is because it is disgusting, inconsiderate, inconsiderate, and entirely overrated. There are three main categories of things that one may be tempted to eat/drink from the carton. All of which transmit germs, which is obvious*. All of which, because they come in a non-single-serving-container, are meant for holding something . If you only eat a prudent amount, you have to eat your way through spitfrost next time. Nobody wins.* So that is why i did not mention eating/drinking from the carton as one of the awesome parts of having your own sweet apartment. I did, however, forget to mention that you do not have to 'agree' on paint colors, furniture arrangements, or what is and what is not okay to hang on the walls. ___ *And we all know, of course, that germs tend to multiply, become grosser, etc etc. One germ now is a billion kazillion germs next time you decide to reach for that carton. Only you can help control the germ population. And also, for the record, YOU, you selfish, stupid, carton-eater--you are setting up your loved ones to unsuspectingly make a single serving of something you have mouthfucked, put it in a bowl/glass, start to consume before you can stop them, and unknowingly exposing themself to more germs than they'd get from licking the doorknob of a public restroom.

"apartment funk"

Note to self: cleaning out your refrigerator is all for naught if you forget to take out the trash afterwards. The whoosh of trashsmell that hit you when you walked in the door after work today was due karma for being such a lazyass last night. you totally deserved it.

NBS! from the draft folder…

I've decided that most of the good and most of the bad things about me are due to the fact that i'm a person who goes through very intense periods of motivation with very little follow-through (which oh damn may actually be what ADD is but this is not the time or the place). My latest fascination, driven by my foundational problem-solving needs, is the idea that technology really is what's going to save the world. I know, nothing new or earth-shattering, but somewhere deep inside i think i have a bit of a superiority complex which makes me think that if i can stretch this current mind-fad of mine out a bit, i can be the one who takes that something that everyone else knows but no one's figured out how to make it happen... and finally get some business done/save all of the world's problems/get on oprah/make scrooge mcduck money/finally be able to pay someone to do my laundry and shop for my clothes. (note for the 'i think i'm learning things about me i didn't want to know' file--i guess i don't want to save the world after all--i am just a huge closet egotist. oh and i think i just admitted i probably have ADD a few more times just now.) Okay--technology will save the world and more people need to give up excel and learn what an effing database is already... So I'm thinking the first place we start is the penal system (haha penal). Basically every crime (i think. okay--not every crime--i am pretty white bread so there are definitely crimes i don't know about, but will eventually research) comes down to some combination of sex/drugs/violence/money. Upon sentencing (or really upon arrest because it doesn't take a genius to figure it out), each defendant could be coded with a drop down of which of the four categories they fit into. Example: embezzlement=money; prostitution=sex/money; selling drugs=money/drugs(and maybe /violence depending on the case...); buying drugs=drugs (duh). Okay, you get it, moving on. Also--each crime would need to somehow be modified by a factor of how many people were harmed but i'm not sure in which proportions because i'm more of an 'idea' person. If it's complicated, we'll need to figure out how to hire smart cops or train them very carefully. Once this is captured, we've got an easy system for figuring out how to de-crowd the prisons; once they realize that the world is evolving and some things don't need to be crimes anymore (or a 'we are not wasting our time and legal pads on anyone below a 5' guideline) or that a new treatment will 'cure' anyone with a sex/money score of 11-28. Or that anyone with any score above 115 gets mandatory life and does NOT get pudding on pudding day. (Oh goodness I am not that naieve; I do realize there are way worse things that happen at jail than not getting pudding. Poor guys. My next project will probably have to be figuring out how to make people not be mean to each other. Yeah yeah, it'll be hard, but I am super creative--just look how good I am with punctuation!~) Oh wow realizing that this already does exist(!), as 'Robbery' is code for "someone stealing something from someone" and if you modify it with the word 'Armed' it means "someone stealing something from someone/and they had a weapon." Words are actually kind of a neat thing, huh? (And duh, it's 2009. All of this stuff is probably already in a database somewhere and you could probably pull a list of prostitutes relatively quickly.) (And yes, I do know that wasn't my idea.) Feeling a bit defeated/this is definitely NOT a real idea/i just think databases are neat and REALLY want to figure out how to get on oprah. What an unproductive and not groundbreaking first blog post. I'll try to get better. I'm super into being be a blogger, though. It's my new thing. I give it a month.

Hey girl I’m back!

 Sorry, got lost but boy do I have stories.