Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Second of all..... why do the worst of the worst get their own dating game shows? I saw a clip of one today.
Third of all, what kind of man hooks his potential girlfriends (as if the plural nature of the phrase "potential girlfriends" weren't bad enough) up to a polygraph?
Fourth of all, what exactly is the initial screening process for female contestants? I really don't think there is one. If there were, the girl questioned in the manner below would not have made it on. Hopefully.
One contestant answered "no" to all of the following questions:
"Do you have a current boyfriend?"
"Do you still do drugs?" (Still?!?)
"Have you ever had a pimp?" (asked in all seriousness)
She failed the polygraph test. Does it really matter which of those questions she was lying about?
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
I met a new boy today. He seemed pretty cool... EXCEPT... every time we made eye contact he started blinking uncontrollably. I seriously almost laughed in his face like 3 times.
What's a girl to do?
Obviously, he's just unaccustomed to viewing devastating beauties such as myself up close in real life.
Or I am Godzilla. One of the two.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
This is the quote of the decade.... and if it would translate as well into text maybe I would just type it. BUT its not so much what she says (which is mildly offesive)... it's the way she delivers the line that is priceless. This is a clip from the judge's room after a glee club competition. The choir she is talking about is from a school for the deaf.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
My life is average.
My GPA is below average.
Sometimes I walk through the frozen foods section of the grocery store, simply because I just haven't met you yet.
I have lived in Utah for 8.4 years and still have not mastered the art of negotiating snowy pathways. If the snow is hard and frozen on the ground I slip on it. If it is deep and fluffy snow, my feet get stuck in it and I trip. If its slushy, I slide around like I'm wearing ice skates. I'm not even talking about ice. Just regular snow. I cannot walk on snow of any type without selling my soul to the gravity gods in hopes of avoiding frictional failure.
Skinny blonde girls are the bane of my existence. Unless they are my friends.
I have a peculiar attraction to men with significant sideburns. Some day I may dedicate a whole blog to it. Where are you, my sideburned prince charming?
I can become a gooey emotional marshmallow at the drop of a hat, despite my devastating ability to B-slap you in the face with witty weaponized words.
I would rather take a multiple choice test that is 150 questions long than write a one-page essay as a final exam.
The tumbling gym in Provo smells like a wet dog wearing puppy shoes made out of onions. BUT. It makes for a great FHE activity.
The more active my dating life is, the less I weigh. Probably because I am an emotional eater. Otherwise, I lose about 5 pounds for every 2 dates I go on.
I keep having nightmares about heavily armed homeless people harassing me. As in, they throw huge axes at me like tomahawks and the such. How they can afford to buy and then throw away their weapons while living on the street is beyond me. I think these dreams reflect the guilt I feel when I don't help the needy, as well as my skepticism toward organizations that claim to help the needy when really they are just out to get your dolla dolla bills.
I don't blush. But when I am embarrassed my ears turn red and get really really hot. Like a Tasmanian Devil.
I have not done any Christmas shopping yet. It is December 16th.
I procrastinate doing my laundry until I have absolutely nothing left to wear. Then I do it all. I am currently wearing swimsuit bottoms under my jeans.
Nothing makes me laugh harder than video chatting with my sisters and morphing our voices until we sound like munchkins.
Ya, my life is average. And I love it.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
- Theodore Roosevelt
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Me: "I'm like a 5 year old boy..."
Co-worker: "Well that explains why you're having trouble with classes. School would be hard for a 5 year old. Unless you are majoring in Legos and Arthur"