If I see a clown on a bike, I'm quitting

Last night I was bored so I watched Saw 3. It was gory and gross, but all around entertaining. I slept pretty good, woke up and came into work. This morning I ventured down into the basement of my office building to get some water from the break room. The basement has always been creepy, but I just chalked it up to fact that all basements are kind of scary and icky. But after watching Saw, I think I've figured out why the basement at work scares the holy ghost out of me.

My basement


Stills from Saw 3




I don't know for sure, but I think Donnie Wahlberg's dead body may be in the basement of my building.

Procrastinators Unite

Go figure. The day I plan to write about being a slacker I spend all day doing actual productive and meaningful work. Ha ha, good one, Universe. But the joke's on you Big Guy. Thanks to the magical wonder that is Wikipedia, I will always have a reason to put off doing something productive.

My friends, let me tell you about a little game called 7 Degrees of Wikipedia. It's the best game you're not playing. I know this because if you'd already heard of this game, you'd have no time for this blog because you'd be spending all your time trying to connect Erik Estrada to pie. Alas, I'm getting ahead of myself.

An old co-worker told me about this game and it's simple, easy to follow rules. It requires only two things: a love of wasting time and a working computer with Internet access.

First, pick any two subjects. It's better if it's two totally unrelated subjects. Example, Elizabeth Shue and actual shoes.

After you have decided on your subjects, head on over to paradise in the form of Wikipedia. Type in the first subject. So in this case, it's Elizabeth Shue. Now, here's the fun part. Since everything on Wikipedia is clickable, you have to connect Elizabeth Shue to actual shoes in 7 clicks. You can click on anything on the page. Any word that you think will get you closer to your goal, click it. You click on stuff 'til Kingdom Come! But don't worry baby diapers, I solved his one for you. Sit back and observe.

Step 1: Type Elizabeth Shue into Wikipedia
Click 1: "girl next door"
Click 2: "girly girl"
Click 3: "dress"
Click 4: :"shoe"

BAM! No need to thank me. The idea of everyone secretly playing 7 Degrees of Wikipedia on their work computers is thanks enough.

Happy Faux-Lumbus Day!

Do you know what today is? Columbus Day!



On the scale of holidays, Columbus Day just barely makes it. It is nowhere near the same level as Christmas, Thanksgiving or Halloween. I'd rank Columbus Day between Arbor Day and Summer Solstice. But, if my place of employment demands I take the day off to observe the day Columbus accidently discovered America, I'm not going to object.

To properly celebrate the day, I did what most people with the day off do: shop. I decided it was time to update my wardrobe for the fall and my bank account was all, "Sure, go ahead and shop for some new things...at the thrift store." So much like Christopher Columbus who came before me, I discovered and raided the thrift shop in the name of cheap fashion. I went in with a positive attitude. There was even a point during the first few minutes I was there that I thought to myself, Gee, I wonder why I don't shop here more often. Oh wait, now I remember.

CRYING BABIES WERE EVERYWHERE. How is it even possible to have that many crying babies in one place?! It's like the amount of crying babies are directly proportionate to the quality of the thrift store. I'd say the crying baby to grown-up ratio was about 1:3, which means the probablity of me banging my head against a rack of old hats drastically increased. It was terrible. But I will say that like Columbus I didn't leave empty handed. I purchased four shirts (the only clean shirts in the place) for less than $20.

Thanks for bringing disease, Christianity and dirty, crying babies to America, Columbus. God Bless America.

A Plague Upon Thee!

I am having quite the ass day. I went to bed in a terrible mood and it's like while I was sleeping, my mind was all, "Hey body, let's be super achy and lame tomorrow just to piss her off." So I woke up this morning even more angry and my body does indeed ache. Bleh. I feel like I'm on Grumpers Isle, population 1. But even when you're a Grumpy Angryson, you still gotta make that paper. So I'm here at work listening to my dance party music (that's these guys if you're interested) trying to shake myself out of the funk that is trying to smother me. It's not really helping. Although I should point out that in addition to being in a bitch mood, I do feel like dancing all my troubles away.

Also, Flickr refuses to upload the pictures I'm trying to work with. ARGH! What the hell, Universe?! That's it. A war is waged upon Flickr. And upon my work computer. And Tyra Banks, just because I can't stand her. So for those of you keeping track, my own personal Axis of Evil now looks like this:



I need to be doing some of this:

It's On

Gah! So here I am, minding my own business, having a good day. All is well and I'm happy. My mom called to take me out to lunch and everyone knows that having your parents take you to lunch is pretty much the best thing ever. I'm serious, it's right up there with finding a long lost $20 in your pants pocket and waking up Christmas morning. I sometimes forget how awesome my mom is, so I decided the least I could do for her is buy her a delicious, super yummy sandwich from Baggins.

Now keep in mind, it's been a good day so far. Work is going alright, my iPod radio is working today and I've got some good evening plans. We're at Baggins and I pull out my debit card, looking smooth and saintly for buying my mother lunch, and my card gets declined. DECLINED. What the eff just happened?!

Wells Fargo has once again screwed me. They wait until I get paid to charge me like a gazillion dollars in fees that don't even make sense. In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to formally annouce that I am waging war on Wells Fargo. Next time I'm at the bank, I'm taking all the deposit envelopes and not telling anyone. And I'm going to steal all the pens and maybe even knock over a fake plant. My chewed gum is going beneath every hard surface in that joint. And those mint candies they have at the tellers counter? I'm stuffing all of them in my mouth. Then Wells Fargo will know what it's like to feel loss.

I'm going old school, ladies and gents. I'm getting a vacuum sealed bag, stuffing all my money in that, and then stuffing that bag into an old mattress. Because I truly believe that The Bank of Old Stained Mattress will be better than The Bank of Let Us Rape You With Our Fees.

You just wait 'til Christmas, Wells Fargo. I'm tipping over a Christmas tree. Mark my words.

Weekend Shenanigans

I realize it's not the weekend anymore. I was busy and didn't have time (read: was too lazy) to blog. What was I doing? I'm glad you asked (read: get ready for this week's blog post).



Friday

I should start by saying that I don't do girly things. I was raised with brothers and even my girl cousins were alway a little tomboyish. I don't do facials, I don't really get together with my girlfriends and watch "Sex and the City" and I'm not really one to paint nails or do make-up together with my lady pals. Yet on Friday evening, I pretty much did all of those things. Ria (of my Gossip Girl/OTH post fame) invited me over to watch movies and do facials. In the spirit of trying new things, I agreed. Here is what happened:




Looks like a good night, right? Then this happened:





I looked like a ghost. My face was whiter than my shirt and I'm pretty sure I scared myself by looking in the mirror at least once (read: three times).


Ria was having way more fun than me.





Saturday

Someone in my office told me about Oktoberfest. Since I've turned 21, I really want to go to things like this just to prove that I can. It's really weird, but I get a tremendous amount of joy when someone asks me for my ID. It's like, "Suck it, I can totally drink." I'm trying to tone down my looks of satisfaction.


I convinced my brother M, my sister-in-law Garland and my best friend Poppa J to accompany me to Tucson's own Oktoberfest (read: in the middle of a ball park). It was fun! We got some drinks, M and Garland got down with some Greek food, and a good time was had by all.

M and Garland rock the camera phone


Myself and Garland


Oh that guy? That's my pal Poppa J and his amazing hand face. I know, science should study him. That's what I keep saying.

I'd like to take a second to discuss the food situation. This Oktoberfest felt a little like the fair. There were booths where you could get food and beer, and then seperate booths where you could buy things or play games. Everyone was filling their bellies with beer and food, and we saw this guy.





I don't get people and their need to consume huge pieces of meat. But this guy, this guy was classic and not to mention, very enthused about devouring that baby thigh. Then Garland and I decided we'd really like pickles. You know, those gigantic ones that only taste good when you're walking around in public, suckling them and generally looking really inappropriate. We waited a ridiculous amount of time in a really long line, only to discover that we're really stupid and there were plenty of stands with pickles that did not have a line the size of Germany. We got our pickles, and some of us were less pleased than others.




Also, wtf is happening with my hair? It's like it's eating my face in order to try and get closer to that damn pickle. And apparently pickles turn me into a mutant. Weird.


After the Great Pickle Search of 2008, we capped the night off with a bag of kettle corn the size of my leg (read: Garland's body).



Love at first sight.


This picture was mostly taken to illustrate the classiness of the evening. If posing with kettle corn next to empty kegs of Coors Light doesn't scream sophistication, I don't know what does.


The rest of the weekend was great too. Hamlet in the park, watching movies, being lazy and late night drinking with friends made it a great weekend. Sometimes I forget how awesome my friends are and then weekends like this come and I'm like, "Oh yeah, this is why I continue to know these people." Duh.

Halloween For The Ladies

Whew! Today at work my computer crashed AND it was map inventory day. So, needless to say, doing actual work today was quite tiring. Also, I don't understand how people used to function without a computer. I mean, I know I had a life before computers but it couldn't have been that great, right? I don't know how I could've functioned all those years without knowing what celebrities were up to or what free stuff was up for grabs on Craigslist.

Anyway, do you know what today is? October 1st! So it is officially the first day of my Halloween costume search. I did what all Halloween enthusiasts do and went to Google. So here I am, searching costumes and I see that the women's costumes are are surprisingly similar.







I think it's pretty safe to say that the designers of women's Halloween attire pretty much follow this equation:




I don't know that I feel comfortable showing off my lady bits in Spandex outfits just yet. But I am considering being a contestant from Legends of the Hidden Temple (Team Blue Barracuda, of course) or Velma from Scooby Doo. Because Velma was a hip, hip lady who never got any play.