Showing posts with label i am funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label i am funny. Show all posts

8.08.2012

The Hydraband!

So, sometimes I write really sentimental, serious posts, like this one I did for our team blog. Other times, despite the long work days (or maybe because of the long work days--the hot sun does a number on ya sometimes!) dealing with serious, heart-wrenching development work our team likes to have fun.

We have started a band that does everything from our own covers, to music videos. Our latest is quite the masterpiece, and edited by yours truly. I'm hoping this will get me on the ellen show someday....Please enjoy our latest here:


and our older number one hits here:


and here:



7.03.2012

the fro-yo level

so my cousin sent me this quote because it reminded her of me:


"So needless to say, this is not activity J. Law and I would be doing if/when we became friends. We’d probably just remain on the fro-yo level for a long time.
You know the fro-yo level. The person you call to get fro-yo with you when you feel too ashamed to go alone — yet, crave it so badly that you can’t stand to live another moment with that cold self-serve fro-yo handle in your hand. If you know what I’m talking about, you KNOW what I’m talking about."

apparently it's someone talking about some celebrity picture. but the point is this: i totally have the fro-yo level. although i'm pretty sure i'm at the fro-yo level with every human. the more i thought about it, the more i realized i have a hierarchy of individuals i call on the fro-yo level, and i'd like to expound on this idea.

ladies and gentlemen, i would like to introduce to you the fro-yo level hierarchy of love:

1. the person to call first: roommate. here's the thing. you're not fooling your roommate about your work out or diet plans. they know every single detail usually, and is the most willing to "take one for the team." plus roommates are most easily coerced if you say stuff like "i'll drive" (or if you have any sort of income--aka not me--things like "i'll pay!").

all people hereafter are back-up plans:

2. the friend having a really terrible day. yes, i realize this is terribly unfair, and you am taking full advantage of their vulnerable situation and state. however, they usually always say yes and i promise fro-yo solves all problems.
3. casual school friends/co-workers. these individuals can also be easily coerced by saying "let's swing by after class/work/during lunch/take a break," etc. you don't have to talk about deep things and you're both happy. you can easily fool them into thinking you're normally healthy but this one time you want to splurge.
4. love interest you feel lukewarm about. fro-yo is a good testing ground. which toppings do they get? do they pay? conversations could easily swing from light and casual, to deep and monumental.
5. love interest you know likes you but you're not interested. again, i'm aware of taking advantage of situations. a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get some fro-yo.

**the last resort**

6. last but not least: parents/family/bffs (if they're not 1 or 2). here's the thing about this one--play your cards right. you're not fooling anyone in this category about your diet/exercise plans, and they will make you feel bad about every single bite you take!!!! but again, if you must do this, then you must do this!

well, that's that. got we got that cleared up, and next time you swing by yogurtland or your neighborhood fro-yo place, just remember:

who you gonna call??

9.18.2011

gym rat

here's a tid bit of a day in the life of brook dorff:


sleep in.
check social media.
study.
fall asleep reading one of the 8983787923 pages of reading per week.
WORK OUT TO STAY AWAKE.
take a nap.
check social media.
study/read/study/read/study/read
get sleepy.
WORK OUT WORK OUT WORK OUT WORK OUT.
shower/get ready for some sort of social event (this is a rare thing--happens maybe once or twice a week these days...the social event, not the showering).
stay for not too long because i want to "get back into a schedule, be productive in the morning" (and also remain mysterious and fascinating so boys actually have to ask me out--ridic, right?!)
check social media.
go to sleep.
repeat.


seriously! i have like 14 days in a week, because every half of a day is like a mini day!


i mean, look how great her butt looks!


which leads me to my next problem: the gym.


can i just vent about two things really quickly?!


1. i hate people who are machine hogs!! the other day i kept going back, only to find the same lady hogging the elliptical!! i mean, heaven forbid i have to go running OUTSIDE (read: no air conditioning, and no cardio cinema). what did people do back in the day without these?! #whitegirlproblems
2. i REALLY hate when people judge how slowly i am going on the elliptical or the stationary bike. like you know how they try to take ninja peeks at you, or pretend like they're looking past you, but you really know they're totally judging you because you're going in slow motion....BECAUSE YOU'RE AT LIKE RESISTANCE OF 20 TRYING TO GET YOUR BOOTY TO LOOK GOOD AGAIN!! and they're going like 500 miles per hour, on resistance of 1 and think they're so great just zooming past you. talk to me in a month, and we'll see who's cool then!


livin' the dream, i tell ya
keep it classy, guys
xoxo

9.05.2011

#whitegirlproblems

i've been here one month today, and the only two good things i could come up with to whine about:


1. i can't get more tan because then my expensive foundation/makeup wont match!!
2. i hate when my new roomie and friends have the same "good side" as me...super inconvenient for pictures because our only options become a) we have to look like we're spooning because we're all doing the same good side; b) one of us has to, heaven forbid, take the pic on our bad side; c) we are on the bad side but twist our heads all weird so it's on the good side but it ends up being awkward/bad/weird; d) we take 500 pictures each with a few on our good side.


...and don't tell me you don't know what i'm talking about!


#whitegirlproblems


(one of us is on our good side, and the other is not....who is who?!)

4.18.2011

you set me on fiiiire

so, i haven't blogged for a few months now. i'm on a really great roll.


this may not be my most insightful blog post, but this is the way my mind works, and my URL is brook's thoughts on life....so here goes.




upon listening to britney spears' latest album on repeat for a few weeks now (sorry, roommate, you know who you are) i've come to one conclusion: there is one great britney spears song to document and represent ever significant event in my adult life.*


the following is my explanation. bear with me, i define my life in terms of friend groups, boys, and significant health problems. sad, i know.


1. ...baby one more time: jr. high. i shaved my legs for the first time. i had my first pretend boyfriend (don't worry mom and dad, we didn't kiss or anything--just told everyone we were boyf/gf).
2. oops i did it again: graduated jr. high, started high school, made dance team, field hockey team, and loads of other stuff.
3. toxic: graduated from HS, first real boyfriend. we were in high school love. it was cute. oh, and i went to college in a completely different state--a cold one, nonetheless.
4. slave for you: had a whirlwind dance team season, then quit. made it to CCS finals for field hockey (that's a big deal!).
5. piece of me: changed my major (this was my "stick it to the man" song), broke a few hearts after having mine smashed, took dancing seriously again in college.
6. gimme more/womanizer: second boy i ever loved....he liked dancing, and we had so much fun. dancing+fun=britney spears, naturally.
7. circus: new town (moved from provo finally!), new friends, new job, new interests.
8. ...and the latest, gasoline/set me on fire: new job, new boy interest, new outlook on life, new country to visit, new QUARTER OF A CENTURY!, new house/apartment/condo, new clothes (haha)...

in conclusion: besides her own crises (shaved head?! back-up dancer hubs, crazy kids, and over-exposures), britney has been the only thing true to me (besides my dear loyal boyfriend of a car, oh and my parents). her music has never left my side through the thick and the thin (literally). through all my boys, majors, life decisions, moves, and jobs.

britney, keep killin' it.
*adult is being defined as over 14, because this is my blog and i do what i want

11.11.2010

judgements: Subway edition

so once upon a time, I was a sandwich artist.

i know, shocker, right?? i sure DID work in the food industry and i loved every aspect of my job except for the fact that it dealt with food, for a few reasons:
1. i can't cook
2. raw meat makes me gag

however, i loved my job for the following reasons:
1. i worked at subway, and therefore it was more of an art-skill than a cooking-skill
2. i was stationed in the DORMS, which meant i got hit on by adorable 18-year-old boys, and i got to see the extension of high school that is the dorms
3. i gave excellent and free dating advice to boys who suddenly had their choice of gorg girls, and girls who suddenly had a lot of boys going after them. it was glorious

anyhoo, after working there a year, i could tell you what type of person would order what type of sandwich, and what that meant about them. ready??

Cold Cut Trio/Italian BMT:
The classy boy or girl. Girl likes wearing expensive clothes from foreign lands, boy wears scarves and pea-coats. Each gender who buys this sandwich likes to think of themselves as the intellectual, traveled type, and will occasionally throw out big words. Generally paired with a "pepperccini" (yellow pepper in Laman-terms), salt, pepper, oil, and vinegar. Rarely will you find one of these high society sandwiches paired with a "lesser" sauce (chipotle, ranch, mayo, etc.).

Turkey/Veggie:
Generally these people are also classy, yet they are okay being "regular." They go for the healthier option because they care about their mind and body, not because that's what they think is "classy." Likely candidates range from cheerleader/dancer to computer scientist to business man/woman as long as they seem to be in good physical and mental condition.

Meatball:
This sandwich is in its own class. Men who order this seem to be meatheads (pun intended), and are generally the louder, taller, buffer, and beefier grade of man. Brutes and athletic types flock to this sandwich, and they generally don't put any vegetables or sauces on it in order to keep its purity of meat. Females whose option is meatball are a peculiar type. Generally, they are self-proclaimed tomboys and grew up playing softball or shot put. There are, however, the few exceptions of really small girls who choose this sandwich to prove that they are not, as others may think, anorexic. Note: they never actually finish their whole 6-inch meatball.

Chicken Bacon Ranch/Steak and Cheese:
These people are "average Joes." The thing is, that compared to the other categories of sandwiches, they are no one in particular, yet you could point them out in a crowd. They are the BYUSA. They are the Relief Society/Elders Quorum teacher. They are the mom you see at the gym once every other month (not to be confused with the mom who's at the gym everyday. she would be under the Turkey/Veggie option). They will generally clutter their sandwich with all sorts of veggies (yellow peppers, tomatoes, etc.) and sauces, and might even add salt and pepper at the end. They like everything and nothing all at the same time. Generally very indecisive, and always try to branch out to another option, and come back to these: their go-to.

Subway Melt/Roast Beef:
These are very popular options, however, they are a mix of those who are not quite high-society enough for cold cut trio/italian, and those who are not common enough for CBR/Steak & Cheese. Those who like the subway melt are the types that also enjoy intramural/city league sports events. they enjoy studying. they enjoy elitist events and groups of people, yet could never fare in a dinner party in which the president of the USA is the main guest. people who enjoy these sandwiches are often very immersed in a specific clique/group of people, and seem to think that group is normal, and everything else is abnormal.

Sweet Onion Teriyaki/Tuna:
No one gets these. Ever. I think I had to make each one MAYBE twice in the whole year and a half i worked as a sandwich artist. If you get these, you are weird. kidding, but seriously....

now the real question comes: what type of sandwich do you buy??

11.06.2010

i am a sneaky dating ninja

so i'm pretty sneaky...
like all the time...
but i'm especially sneaky when it comes to boys.


here's the thing. i may be giving my secrets out all in one post, but maybe, just maybe, if i've ever done this to you, you can feel very flattered.


the eternal (well, hopefully not eternal) dilemma is how to keep the conversation going with guys you're digging between dates, between the weekend, and especially if you're juggling a few boys *aghem* between every other weekend!


so here's my trick. ready?? sending a "random" or "accidental" text message.


works.every.time.


here are a few examples of perfect texts to get the conversation going:
1. "hey i'm here!" or "here!" or "come out!"
     a. follow up a few seconds later (this part is optional): "oops"
2. "hey it was great seeing you at the party! let's hang out again soon!" <--this one cracks me up every time
3. making something up. for example, if a guy you're into is into BMW M6s, then say something like "hey i'm totally driving right behind an M6 right now!"
4. another great make-up text: "hey i just saw insert name here. they said hi!"


sound ridiculous? maybe. but after a few confession sessions, i realize more girls do it than you know.
after all, the key is to make the guy think it's his idea, right?? :)

11.04.2010

microwaves zuck

i've recently learned a few things about myself.

1. i dislike microwaves
2. microwaves dislike me

here's the thing. i've never really had good luck with those dumb things. honestly, though, i'll probably live longer than all you people who stand in front of them while nuking your food into oblivion. want a few examples as to why we don't get along??

one time when i was still in elementary school, i was asked to warm up the mashed potatoes after being handed a nice large bowl straight from the refrigerator. me being the obedient child i was, i stuck the whole thing in (tin foil and all). well, after practically blowing up my whole house, i was told tin foil and microwaves don't get along.

fast forward a few years later (high school), and i stuck in a bowl of oatmeal, spoon and all. again, after almost blowing up the whole house, i was told silverware didn't belong in those devil machines.

***interjection: why couldn't anyone be more specific with me and tell me metal and death machines don't get along????

well, i lived a pretty harmless microwave-free life throughout my college life (and i seriously survived on those things with endless herbal tea and lean cuisines!), and this last summer was the start of my microwave woes.

i was totally into laying out in my backyard this summer, so to cool myself off from the awful desert heat, i froze a few caprisuns. well, to get the melting process going, i decided upon sticking the caprisun into the microwave with papertowel wrapped around it. needless to say the stupid thing caught on fire, and i almost died.

okay not really.

but seriously! now, in my defense, lean cuisines (which as i mentioned before were the only reason i didn't die of malnourishment in college) have metal-looking things, and i figured THEY didn't blow up, so neither would my caprisun! WRONG!

anyhoo, fast forward to my mom teaching me the "easiest way to cook an egg in the whole entire world." i went home in July, and she showed me the most ideal way to cook an egg: in the microwave. i simply had to stick a little dab of butter at the bottom of a mug, plop a raw egg in it, and stick it in the microwave for an alloted amount of time. she showed me at home, and it seemed simple enough. nothing too drastic could happen in a THREE STEP PROCESS. nope, my whole mug cracked, and my egg exploded into the galaxy. if it wasn't for gravity, i would have ha to clean up egg particles all throughout draper.

well, my first week of work, i realized i wouldn't have enough time to cook and eat breakfast before going in at the unearthly hour of the morning, so i decided to be brilliant and buy instant oatmeal from costco. best idea i've ever had? not likely. i was trying so hard to impress my new co-workers who are really cool, and we were all chatting in our little break room when i put my water/oatmeal-filled styrofoam bowl into the microwave for appropriate oatmeal making. after some decent small-talk, the microwave informed me it was done cooking my food, and as i opened the stupid machine, a plop of oatmeal fell off onto the carpet.

LOVELY, i thought.

yes, the whole styrofoam plate had melted and oatmeal was all over the microwave. my poor co-workers did a fabulous job of not totally dying laughing at me in the moment, and i tried not to cry haha. now it's funny.

and that, my friends, is why i'll never step near one of those things again. i have come to the conclusion that microwaves do, indeed, zuck. plus, has anyone ever NOT burnt popcorn in the microwave???

12.16.2009

am i normal??

so, lately i've been remembering my favorite parts about growing up in a super liberal, cultural, crazy, smart area. in talking with my co-workers and friends, one of the biggest striking differences between there and utah, where i now reside, is that here, white people are a majority. okay, just kidding. really, one of the huge differences is the sex ed program that we endured and learned from in the great public school system in california.

one of the most traumatizing of those experiences (yes, more traumatizing than seeing a woman give birth, using bananas in inappropriate ways, and another story that i will tell in the future) was the wonderful musical gem called "Nightmare on Puberty Street." yes, you read that correctly. it was a musical. and it was called "Nightmare on Puberty Street." we were all forced to watch this tony-award winning (no, it didn't win a tony) musical in jr. high, and all sevies and eighth graders had to sit and watch it together. now, mind you, this was during the time where i had a crush on like 11 boys at a time and was writing them notes that said something along the lines of "do you like me? check yes or no" (apparently not much has changed). anyhoo, after this enlightening musical, i wanted nothing to do with any of the 11 boys as i was seriously terrified about what was going on in their heads (sounded like some scary stuff), and most importantly my own well-being.

topics covered during the two-day blush-fest included ones that i still feel silly and inappropriate talking about, but the most important subject and song that still resonates in my head today is one called "am i normal." this classic line ended up being a joke that we still use to this day (right, carissa??). upon googling it, i found out that even though the melody has become much more hip (it used to resemble something more like lion king--now it sounds more like a good version of eminem), the words and lyrics are still the same.

and now for a musical snack beyond any you've ever encountered: Normal (either click on this link, or on the player down below).

12.08.2009

how NOT to score a wife 101

dear males,

if you intend on marrying someone, please do not mimic the following story that I had the "privilege" of experiencing. girls do not like tools. thanks!

xoxo
brookie*

___________________________
Once upon a time, there was a single girl that people set up on blind dates. People that would set her up on these blind dates did not think anything through. Either that or they didn't have a high opinion of her. She would be set up with boys because she was a single girl living in Utah, and people knew a single boy who lived in Utah, without any consideration for other important things. But that is beside the point.

This one particular instance, she was being set up on a blind date with a boy we'll call snowboarder. Snowboarder was, well, a snowboarder. He thought he was really cool and as the evening progressed, single girl slowly discovered that snowboarder wasn't in fact cool. When he first picked her up from her house, he seemed like a kind, attractive young man, but unfortunately his "true colors" were about to manifest themselves.

Upon seating themselves in the car (don't worry, he didn't open the door for her--something that she had come to expect after dating a boy for five months who opened her door for all five months....and then some), they decided upon eating at a Thai restaurant that neither had eaten at before. Both enjoyed good food, and decided to be adventurous. Conversation was small talk, as it should be within the first 10 minutes of meeting someone. It took a suddenly drastic turn.

As soon as they were seated at the quaint restaurant, snowboarder asked her what sort of things she likes to do for fun. After answering cordially, she returned the question, and snowboarded proceeded to talk about him self for the remainder of the time. It was soon discovered that he loved to do some very unique things, including "beating the *insert curse word that starts in "s" here* out of dudes" while fighting, and "kicking *insert "a" word here*" on the slopes. I'm surprised, er, SHE was surprised he didn't mention loving to talk about himself.....While he went on an on using his impressive vocabulary, the waitress returned to ask how their food was tasking. After a few deep, dramatic breaths, he turned to their adorable Thai waitress, and said to her something along the lines of "are you serious? can't you see we're talking here??" Thoroughly embarrassed, single girl apologized to the waitress, told her the food (and not the company) was exquisite, and thank you very much.

After a long conversation, it was finally time to leave, and single girl couldn't wait to be away from the company of snowboarder. When snowboarder passed her freeway exit, she questioned what he was doing, and he said they would be going on a romantic drive up Alpine Loop, as he was "feelin' it." Appalled, single girl asked snowboarder to get off at the next exit, and take her home. He obliged, and took her home. Wanting to just get away from the clutches of misery (okay, maybe a little dramatic), she escaped the car as quickly as possible, saying "Thanks," but snowboarder followed her to the door for a doorstep scene. Thinking he was going for a hug, she put her arms out, and his head suddenly dipped to her 5'1'' frame to try and give her a kiss. She shoved her face into his oblique and muttered a quick "thanks" while going inside as quickly as she could. Single girl went inside and told her roommates and parents all about the horrific date she had just experienced, when she received a text message from snowboarder saying "Thanks, I had such a great time. I can't wait until we go out again."

Needless to say, she did not respond to any of the proceeding texts or phone calls. Do you blame her?

12.06.2009

how NOT to score a husband 101

I'd like to begin the awkward climb towards our former friendship before I confessed my love for you
Well, since quite a few of my posts have to do with my singledom, here's another to add to the list. Let's be honest, since I don't have pictures of family events, adorable chubby children with colossal bows that look like they could eat a small child, stories about funny school experiences, or stories about my job that I can tell (TRUST ME-if I could, I would....our office has some classic characters), I will talk about dating. Plus, my friend Liz's blind date stories inspired me to write some of my own. These have potential to be equally funny and awkward.


I met this boy we'll call catering boy (a name affectionately given by my friends) at a nice event, exchanged numbers, and decided upon going out. Now, this should be something known by everyone: I despise talking on the phone more than anything. Talking on the phone makes me more nervous, more anxious, and more uncomfortable than a geeky computer nerd walking into a hip hop underground dance off. Phones and I don't get along. So, after a few text messages with catering boy, and a little "phone tag" (every time I call, I pray that the answering machine will pick up), we finally got a hold of each other. Both of us had just woken up from a nap , and spoke on the phone to figure out the details of the date. Towards the end of the very awkward phone conversation, we were wrapping things up, and amidst my sleepy and uncomfortable self, I ended the conversation in "Okay, love you! Bye!"

WHAT? WHO SAYS THAT??

After I realized the severity of what had just come out of my mouth, I suddenly hung up the phone and proceeded to somewhat have a laugh attack. I yelled down to my roommates, and told them the story among fits of laughter, and realized that my phone was lit up. I looked down at it (it was brand new, and I didn't really know how it worked yet), and realized that it had decided to call catering boy back. Upon further investigation, I realized that he had picked up the phone and was saying "Brook? Hello??" I clearly wasn't thinking clearly, and hung up so I didn't have to face him after confessing my love to him, AND having him hear me recount the embarrassing story to my roommates.

Funniest part: neither of us brought up what happened on the phone during the actual date. Awkward.

8.06.2009

another "how to" post



following some of my other how to posts, i've decided to post another--

how to get a whole entire row to yourself on a southwest flight:


preface: we all know how southwest works, but in case you don't, here's how it goes. everyone gets a letter and a number. i have no idea how either work, but i always seem to get the last letter possible and the last number possible. then, you board according to letter and number, and you get to choose where you sit. usually, couples will sit with one in the aisle and one at the window with all of their very important carry-ons in between them, which, naturally, means "we don't want you sitting here."

and now on to the how to:
1. become ill (i, for example, i had sinusitis, two ear infections, and h1n1).
2. sit right in between one of those couples that are being rude.
3. start coughing incessantly (blowing your nose also helps with dramatic effect) and murmur things to yourself about swine flu, pandemic influenza, and h1n1.
4. take forever to figure out where you're going to leave that dirty tissue you just used (look in the seat pocket in front of you, put it on your lap, etc.).
5. watch the people sitting next to you drop like flies*.

epilogue: the greatest thing about this tactic (especially if you really were sick like myself) is that once the airplane has taken off and people don't move seats anymore, you can stretch out and get the whole row to yourself. sleep, the #1 best medicine, becomes your companion, and the flight is much more enjoyable.

happy flying!

*please keep in mind this was not a selfish act on my part, but i was acting selflessly. i did not want others to get sick, and i did not want others to have to experience my very ornery temperament after traveling for 40 hours straight...(chile to lima to el salvador to LA to two flights being canceled in LA to finally SLC)

8.04.2009

full body touching non-cuddling


i'm going to take a quick break from re-capping the last two-three months hilarious happenings by just stating that these days, all a single girl can ask for is full body touching non-cuddling.


here's how it goes:

1. subject f(emale) and subject m(ale) like each other.
2. subject f thinks that girls shouldn't do all of the work.
3. subject m thinks that guys shouldn't do all of the work.
4. during the day and any group activities a whole lot of hugging and random "behind the elbow" touching...apparently that's a subconscious indicator of attraction
5. then all of a sudden subject f and subject m find themselves in a situation where more than just the during-the-day-and-group activities can occur (although they, at first, still attend group activities....just go to ones where the rest of the group isn't paying attention, ie. movies, walking somewhere during the night, etc.)
6. then, because both subjects feel that it is the other person's responsibility to take charge, absolutely nothing occurs but what i like to call full body touching non-cuddling, or FBTNC for short. this can be described as one complete side of subject f touching the complete side of subject m with some serious electric currents running through the points of contact (again, this goes all the way down from shoulder to ankle), BUTTTT there is no intermingling of subjects occurring. no intertwining arms. no arm behind the head. no hand holding. nothing. whatsoever.

now, i've found myself in this situation several times, and have found others to be in the same position on more than one occasion and think that this needs to be remedied, without subject f having to do all of the work. which, in turn, is the whole basis of the problem.

oh well. the life of a single girl never stops being comical.

7.23.2009

the asian invasion


.....at it's finest.
keep in mind these two did NOT know each other and did not speak the same language.
also, try to remember that this is a teenager traveling by himself, wearing super tight skinny jeans, with black nails, and long flowing locks. needless to say, he was very unhappy for the duration of the 1.5 hour flight.
{and in case you're wondering...this man moved from the aisle to the middle seat to take pictures out the window, and nail the kid in the head with his elbows the whole entire time}

4.14.2009

lessons on how to make your neighbors unhappy:

1. play music as loudly as possible (please don't forget the booming bass) at ridiculous hours of the day (preferably somewhere between 2 and 7 am).

2. get totally wasted and go on your back porch, which is way too close to your other neighbors' back porches, and vomit and scream obscenities.

3. after completing step #2, start climbing the fake rock wall behind your porch that leads to a house higher up on the hill. 

4. go outside and have everyone start their trucks at the exact same time to see whose is the loudest (this again is best when done between 2 and 7 am).

5. after completing step #4, start revving your engines to see whose is the loudest.

6. leave all beer cans, cigarette butts, red cups, and other party essentials on your little piece of 6 by 6 grass in front of your house that you share with your neighbors. 

7. send jehovah's witnesses their way.

8. park behind their garage/driveway. this is most effective when parking on the street is illegal altogether.

3.17.2009

anyone lose a placenta?

because they've found a couple in illinois in the sewage system. i mean, you expect to find suspicious looking things in the sewage, but never a COUPLE of placentas. especially since several cultures consider the placenta to be sacred. as a matter of fact, it's usually buried for purposes such as:
  • so the mother's spirit doesn't haunt the child (bolivia)--the ghost of vivi past....yikes!
  • so the daughter born (if it's a daughter) can be a good clam digger (british columbia)--THAT'S why i stink at clam digging!
  • to ensure health of the baby and mother (costa rica)--duh mom, that's why we're sick all the time. maybe my appendix had beef with my placenta. speaking of, would it be MY placenta, or my MOM'S placenta? i mean, she produced it, but it was attached to me....hmmm...the mysteries of life.
  • to show relationship between humans and the earth (maori and navajo)--although this could be done much easier by just attending yoga at 24 hour fitness
  • to promote devoutness in the child's life (turkey)--shoot i'm in big trouble
some even thought it held magical powers:
  • egyptians apparently stuck the pharoh's placenta on a stick and took it to war. that's just sick and probably horribly smelly.
and some eat their placentas. now that is just gross!

(quick quiz! what am i thinking? wrong! i'm thinking about how skin is the largest organ on the body. name where that came from!)

okay, well, anyways, i just wanted to let you know if you've lost your (don't ask me if by "your" i mean the one that was attached to you when you were born, or the placenta's you've birthed) placenta, i've found it! just make sure when you go look for it, you don't let your children swim in the sewage....

2.18.2009

dear appendix,


dear idiotic part of the body,

it's been a year and i haven't missed you one bit. yet, i have daily reminders of your little burst for attention/temper tantrum. i did, however, get to see a lot of movies i had been wanting to see. i did also get to become super good friends with some people i wasn't expecting. lastly, i got lots and lots of chocolate. i guess it wasn't that bad after all. one more thing--i'm glad you didn't take my colon down with you. man, that would have been horrific. imagine what it would have done to my dating life!

2.08.2009

brook's list of first date questions:

1. what is your blood type?
(this is very very important. he HAS to have negative blood type, or i will not marry him. i WILL not take a shot to the buttox for every pregnancy due to my cousin evaly who has terrified me beyond belief. and trust me, this weeds out about 50% of the boys i come across, so it's actually a great question!)

2. do you like to dance?
(this would be taken care of if i could meet boys dancing, although unfortunately most of those guys end up being sleazy)

3. are you okay if i blast britney spears, kc and jojo, gloria estefan, and dashboard confessional occasionally?
(self-explanatory)

and now...here is a question for you readers:
what comes first??..and then what's next??
a. holding hands
b. cuddling
c. kissing
d. none of the above
e. all of the above at the exact same time

1.27.2009

we are pals....

harry potter PUPPET pals that is....

well here are some epic pics from an epic night:























and now the moment you've all been waiting for (just a disclaimer: we did the music and life-size sign, and snape did the dialogue before hand...it just wasn't recorded):


1.13.2009

dear idiot drivers,


{this is a real picture. identities will NOT be hidden so if you see this man on the I-15 get in front of him and 
go as slowly as possible}


dear tommy tailgater,
dear indecisive ingrid,
dear mrs. "i like to go 2 mph and get right in front of you even if you are going 65 mph so you have to dangerously slam on the breaks,"
dear tired and hasn't-had-her-coffee-fix terry,
dear larry last-minute cut-off,
dear mary multi-tasker (make-up, breakfast, cell phone),
dear break-happy bobby,
dear radio-loving rachelle,
dear 110 mph semi-truck driver,
dear invincible truck driver,
dear "my car is made for snow,"
dear "i'm too good for turn signals,"
dear "i have a small car and can zip in n out of traffic,"
dear cops,

people like you cause accidents and make me extremely upset.
please get off the roads between the hours of 7:45-8:45am, and 4:30-5:15pm.

lovingly,
brook