Category Archives: Humorous

Feb 05 2012
6 Comments
Humorous, Lists, Three minute read

Snotting Gold, Pure Gold.

As of last Thursday, I was graciously nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award by one blogger known as Leo Rex.  With pride and a bit of trepidation, I now join the legions of bloggers who have also received said award. Though we number in the thousands, let us not forget the hundreds of thousands of bloggers who are still versatile blogger award-less. To these undecorated participants in the blogosphere, I say:

“One day someone besides your mother or father will read your blog, have a blog themselves, and decide to nominate you for this award. That day might not be soon, and we might be able to inject internet into our veins by then and have mandatory blogs that are monitored by the World Government, and these awards might even be handed out by that same government organization in order to keep up the illusion of free will and creativity, but the day will come, so hang in there.”

As per the award guidelines, I shall proceed to nominate some other blogs for the award and talk about myself. With further ado, here are the blogs that I nominate for this award. I realize that many, if not all of them, have received this award before and I’m not sorry for renominating them. They should know that I sincerely enjoy reading their blog and who cares if the versatile blogger award links pile up in their comment boxes like dusty term papers in the office of a professor who is having an out of state affair. Also, if you haven’t heard of them you might like them too.

1. Damp Squid-Recently fresh pressed. Well done, fellow blogging comrade.

2. The Good Greatsby: Getting the word out about this blog is like spreading news about Lady Gaga.

3. El Guapo: He writes limericks sometimes. You’ve been warned.

4. Linda Vernon Humor: Humor you can write home about.

5. The Life and Times of Nathan Bradley: I’ve found it good for the ha has.

6. @Grumpy Comments: Sunny D in blog form. Just kidding. It’s a grumpy-funny fest.

7. The Waiting: I hope her baby will be able to write as well as her.

8. Your Stupid Advice: Great for those times you want to be berated for asking the questions you were afraid to ask.

And now I get to shamelessly share facts about myself.

1. My first unrequited love was Conan O’Brien.

2. I only have 4 pills left in the course of antibiotics I’m taking for my ear infection.

3. When I lived in Denver, I would steal quarters from my Dad’s wooden fish bowl that he kept change in. I was only 4 or 5 but I felt guilty about that for a long time. This is my confession to him.

4. This might be a little gross but I like to watch the hair accumulate in my hairbrushes so I can see how much I’ve been shedding. When I finally clean it out it looks like a bird’s nest.

5. Sometimes I use my sister’s toothbrushes without asking/telling them. This usually happens when I don’t want to get my own toothbrush out after I get back from traveling.

6. I like to eat most foods with my little spoon. I try not to be possessive of it, but one time I saw someone eating with it and I had to suppress anger.

7. If I could, I would wear the same outfit every day. This outfit would include a helmet.

Thanks for the award, Leo Rex!

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Feb 02 2012
10 Comments
Anecdotes, Humorous, Three minute read

My Ear Infection: Party on the Inside

bring on the ear infection rock surfing

I have an ear infection. Yeah, I said it. My ear is crawling with infection. Perhaps that’s too much disclosure for the blogosphere. Just because I read the forums on Web MD religiously doesn’t mean I want to discuss everyone’s medical charts, especially my favorite authors on the web.

But now it’s out there. I’ve got an ear infection and it sucks. This is also not a ploy to get people’s pity. I don’t want or need your pity. I’ve already had cookies baked for me against my will and yes, they were inappropriately tasty. You see, I was raised on the plains of Oklahoma, where personal illness is usually treated as a case of sissy-hood. We believe most things can be cured by ignoring the pain and/or rubbing bacon grease onto the affected area. In the case of internal pain, the grease is rubbed onto the lymph nodes so the lymphatic system can carry its healing qualities throughout the rest of the body. It’s a highly developed system.

Unfortunately, bacon grease is hard to come by here in Egypt, so I was unable to pour any into my ear at the beginning of the infection and simply tried to ignore it. The infection proceeded to get increasingly hard to ignore, and I was forced to go to the university clinic, where I was given medicines of dubious names and qualities. I’m now taking a few  pills in a variety of shapes and colors and waiting for everything to go back to normal when I can pretend like this whole “being sick” thing never happened.

I feel like there’s nothing dumber than saying you can’t do something because of an ear infection. To me, it feels equivalent to saying, “Oh, my thumb hurts so I can’t come to your bridal shower,” or “My forehead is bothering me so I won’t be able to make it to the awards banquet,” etc. It’s such a small area of your body, but when it hurts, it hurts in spades. If you have healthy ears, kiss them both right now and be thankful. You could also have someone kiss them for you.

I was laying in bed last night, unable to sleep because of the bright, throbbing pain in my ear. I thought to myself “I am in hell,” as it crackled and sparked, reminding me once again of how awesome my other ear feels. (Again, I don’t want your pity. I’m just trying to use my pathetic example of hardship as blog fodder). Then I realized that I was seeing the pain in my mind’s eye as bright colors and shapes. I think at one point there was a recurring abstractly shaped fish figure that had pink and white stripes and I would see it as I closed my eyes even though I was still awake and wondered  if I would be able to skip school for this.

Now here I am in the morning and I’m not skipping school but I am going to the white desert again. At least I can continue my tradition of being sick before camping trips.

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Jan 29 2012
4 Comments
Fiction, Humorous, Three minute read

Captain’s Log: Return to Cairo

A fire roars in the captain’s quarters

I could do an obligatory post about returning to Egypt and re-falling in love with Cairo, but I saw a bare-assed man taking a dump this morning while walking back to my apartment, so I decided to delete that chapter of my return story.

Instead, I will tell a dark tale of hardware and how the fates conspired to make an Arabic student computer-less for an entire four days. This is my story. Some details have been altered to make it more interesting.

The Captain’s Log

“I’m pretty sure I left my converter at my apartment in Cairo.” I thought to myself while steering the Seamstress down a canal in Amsterdam. “Why would I take it to America? I don’t need it there.”

“Drevets!” the skipper yelled, “Let’s rope it up! Them tourists gettin’ more annoying by the second. I cain’t stand them much longer.”

“Right-O, skipper.” I said, “We’re here anyways. The pancake girls will be down soon with our snacks and then we can eat and get out of here. You know, I’ve got a lot on my mind nowadays, what with the winds and the endless darkness. Say, do ever remember me mentioning a converter, like for electronics?”

“No ma’am, captain. I ain’t never seen nothin’ of the sort.”

“Okay. Thanks, skipper. Well I guess we should get a move on, shouldn’t we.”

Later that evening, as I rested in the captain’s quarters at the Hilton Hotel Amsterdam, nursing a glass of whiskey with the hotel dog curled at my feet, the converter still occupied my mind. What had I done with it? Could I have left it in America?

My computer’s battery was not going to last long. I had already used it to help navigate the canals, since the last time I sailed those waterways was thirty years and a universe ago. Those were different times back then, different dreams. I sighed and took a sip of whisky. It was a long time ago.

I boarded the captain’s plane the next day feeling hopeful. I was, after all, a rational person. I was a ship captain, for God’s sake! They don’t just give anyone these puffy captain’s bloomers and special caps. The converter was in my captain’s apartment back in Cairo. It had to be. I was sure of it. My computer was functionally dead by now, and the prospect of a delayed revival chilled me to the bone, more threatening than the winter winds of Amsterdam.

I arrived in Cairo, was enveloped by its cloud and dusty musk. Taxi-ing across the city towards my captain’s apartment, I waited and hoped.

The taxi stopped. Five flights of stairs were climbed. A door was opened. Another door was opened. A light switch was turned on. A converter was not found.

It is not here.

It is not here.

It is not here.

The words echoed in my mind’s blackness.

I saw but did not see. I heard but did not hear. My computer stared at me, mute, a dumb beast. A light flashed on the router, the internet’s waves flowing through me. Yet I was cut off from the life blood. I exhaled slowly. “ ‘Captain’s Log: Return to Cairo’ will have to wait,” I said to myself, and I was completely alone.

End

Postscript: I bought a converter a few days later and it cost less than one dollar so I fully expect it to blow up and/or melt but, on the other hand, I have internet. Sweet, sweet internet.

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Jan 21 2012
6 Comments
Fiction, Humorous

It’s a New Freaking Theme

How raw? Uneaten food raw.

Is this a rant? You tell me.

And if you think I’m going to apologize for writing this ridiculously long sentence with poor syntax you better get your mind right and in fact I might make this entire post a single sentence, even though many people would advise against this and say that it’s sloppy writing and that I need to edit it but what do you know. I may have edited that sentence a hundred times, or thousands of times, my life blood spilling out into the words as I painstakingly edit them with the q-tip of my cursor until I form a smiley face of blood on a paper plate that’s stained by pulled pork grease. Too graphic? You better believe it. I’ve got a new WordPress theme and it’s a freaking new day.

You may have noticed I decided not to write this entire post as one sentence. It did sound sloppy, so I stopped, but not because I’m scared, because I don’t get scared anymore. I left the above paragraph because I wanted part of the process to remain visible, like the paint on a weathered dresser or a slightly undercooked egg that you really want to enjoy but you just can’t.

Because I’m being real.

There are a lot of changes going on around here, and with this bright new WordPress theme, things are about to get unpleasant. They’re about to get dirty and disgusting, and the teal accents on the left side of this very post have no idea what they’re about to complement.

I’ve never felt so ready to delve into the very depths of humanity itself, to sift through the garbage dumps of the human heart and spray the refuse out onto the hot city sidewalk of the blogosphere for the entire world to see. It’s going to stink, and with this new layout, you’ll be able to smell it from a mile away.

Sure this theme is fresh, friendly, accessible, and simple.  But it’s about to get nasty raw. This is not your rare prime rib kind of raw or crunchy potato raw. It’s going to be the pink, flabby raw of uncooked chicken or the grotesque red of a ground beef sliding down a glass door. It’s going to be uncomfortable.

I don’t care who has used this theme before and how amiable it seemed. This blog experience is about get intense. And I’m not sorry to those who use this same theme. I didn’t copy you. Well, you know what? Maybe I did copy you. I thought your blog looked nice, and I said to myself, “This layout seems easy to read and user-friendly. I’m going to take it and make it really offensive.”  Are you really surprised that I’m using it when it’s one of the most popular themes on WordPress? Just look at how airy and crisp it is. It’s an f-ing treasure, and I’m going to take it and twist it into something it was never intended to be.

Blogosphere, get ready for the raw, the rude, and the objectionable* to be presented to you in the most delightful of ways. You’ll never know what hit you.

*Disclaimer: actual change is unlikely. Author saw fit to use theme change as a post topic.

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Jan 20 2012
4 Comments
Best blog posts, Humorous, Wedding

Minimizing Bridal Threat

will she ruin her own wedding day?

Dear Sister,

Last night I finished The Bridesmaid Guide and Maid of Honor as per your request and am now ready to assume full powers as co-maid of honor/bridesmaid. Please prepare yourself to have the house and every pre-wedding party filled with “sassy bridesmaid giggles.”

The books were fascinating. I learned much about women, that we live for lingerie and high heels, that we love fabulous gifts like leopard print sheets and seashell soaps, and above all, that should anything be sublime, beautiful, or worthy, the best adjective to describe it is “fabulous,” which means “being loyal, enthusiastic, faithful, fun, gorgeous, and true” (TBG 13).  And so we shall be fabulous, dear sister.

As sweat soaks our underarms in the Oklahoma summer heat, hinting at our humanity, as family surrounds us and threatens to choke out our very existence, as we yearn to make off-color jokes and mock the world, we shall bite our tongues, stuff tissues in our armpits, and laugh it all away. We will all be fabulous, but only your fabulousness will be the talk of the wedding. That is our purpose.

But I am worried, sweet sister. I worry for you. As I delved deeper into the books, I learned of a terrible change that is going to come over you as the wedding date approaches. You, bride sister, are likely going to turn into a monster, someone even you would have despised from your pre-wedding mindset.

I found that, as a Leo bride, you are going to have moments of “arrogance and vanity,” and we as bridesmaids must appease you by throwing you a fabulous night on the town (do you even like going on the town?), and our bridesmaid motto must be “keep your eyes on the bride.” Dear God what is going to happen to you??

They say you will turn into a pile of nerves with the mental faculties of a cupcake. As the wedding day approaches, you will descend further into a continual state of hysteria, fueling irrational decision making. You might attempt anything from getting a Mohawk to having your bellybutton pierced and then running away to Omaha. You will likely scream at us in your distress, and should any one of your bridesmaids so much as hint at a problem that is not your concern, you may well go permanently insane, ruining the wedding.

I will still love you, sister, and I will protect the fragile matchsticks of sanity that remain inside your frenzied bridal head until the wedding mania passes. However, you should know that in my capacity as co-maid of honor, I can and will have you removed from the wedding should you present too great a threat to the production. Other sister will take your place as your identical body double, and the ceremony will proceed as planned. You will be put somewhere comfortable but secure, where you do not need to be afraid. I hope you can understand why this might need to happen, and that I’m only doing it for your good.

Thank you for the honor of asking me be your maid of honor, and I promise, dearest sister, that I will not let you down or let you let yourself down.

With fabulous love,

Emily

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