Monthly Archives: October 2012
Fine. I’ll write a Halloween post.
Actually, this post was sparked by The Roller Giraffe and inspired by Halloween, but is really just about candy in general.
I have never been a candy fanatic. I enjoy chocolate from time to time, and I will have a Twizzlers binge once every five years, sure. In totality though, I always was pretty indifferent towards most of it. I said most of it. The following candies were exceptions to the rule for one reason or another.
Now and Later Candy – This was a typical case of wanting what you can’t have. First of all, eating Now and Laters leave your mouth stained and tasting like the selected flavor for hours (hence the name?). There isn’t enough water in the world to unstickyfy your mouth. Then there is the whole task of removing the pieces that become fused to your molars, which occurs simultaneously upon the slightest contact. They are truly an undesirable candy choice for practicality. Still, upon discovering those small blocks of sugar cement, I was always overcome with desire simply because I was forbidden to eat them. You should have gone with a little reverse psychology on that one Mom.
Werther’s Originals – I once befriended a neighbor kid because her mom kept Werther’s Originals in full stock year round in a generously sized crystal bowl in her living room. I didn’t even get along with the kid, and her mother kind of scared me with her monotone voice and general disinterest in everything. I wasn’t going to let that get in my way though. You better believe that my hooked-on-butterscotch ass was knocking on her door every chance that I got. I am not proud of this time in my life.
Peanut M&M’s – In high school, we were allowed to buy concessions at the end of each lunch period. There weren’t a plethora of options, but I do remember peanut M&Ms being the only candy that I would tolerate. I say tolerate, because I never really wanted to buy concessions. I had ulterior motives. I subjected myself to buy candy every day at exactly 12:35 pm in attempt to place myself in line behind my high school crush. Then I started getting chubby from all the M&M’s and blew my chances with him anyway. I was pretty smart.
NOTE: I have changed a lot since those days. For example, I am definitely not still going to the gym five days a week for a record-breaking eight weeks in a row in hopes to have an encounter with some boy in 301.
Pop Rocks – Everyone knows that pop rocks are cool, because they feel like a mini firework show in your mouth, minus the fire. It wasn’t until college that I heard of a much different manner in which these candies were imitating fireworks… in the bedroom. Apparently, the hot thing to do was to sprinkle some rocks on your girl’s lawn and start mowing. I tried to be subtle there. If you are still confused, fire up the Google search. What am I your sex ed teacher?
NOTE AGAIN: For the record, I was never cool enough to test it out, but I do enjoy the intended use of pop rocks. However, this doesn’t mean I won’t get a shit eating grin when I see them in the store.
I have had my fair share of candy obsessions, but mostly my kind of candy is adding blue cheese to my salad, drinking whiskey instead of a glass of wine, or dipping my french fries in honey. Everyone has their own indulgences. What are yours?
- Werther’s Original Caramel Apple Filled Hard Candies (tammysproductreviews.wordpress.com)
- Halloweaned. (sixuntilme.com)
- The Ghouls Are Coming: 12 Halloween Candies that Should Get Your House Egged (formatmag.com)
This Saturday I forced myself to attend my friend’s Halloween party. I had been looking forward to going all week, however when the day presented itself, I felt less than motivated to get dressed up and trot around a party. Plus, the temperature conveniently dropped to a breathtaking forty something at night over the weekend. That’s almost subzero. That’s like dry-ice cold. I know science.
Had it not been for the heating powers of Jim Beam, I surely would have gone into shock or hypothermia or developed frost bite or something equally as dramatic and over exaggerated.
While hiding in the bathroom to regain feeling in my legs, I stumbled across this purely decorative had towel hanging out of the towel closet like it was drunk. Silly decorative hand towel, you don’t go there. I have not a single picture of me and my friends dressed up at the party, but I sure can deliver a picture of some inanimate and insignificant object. It’s not even a Halloween towel for shit’s sake!
At least I could find some use for my unrelated party photo. It’s for you people who are dealing with Sandy and her wrath right now. Don’t forget the pros of the colossal hurricane coming to a shore near you. You (and your bum) will look petite and attractive next to that thing. Not that you weren’t already.
- Music to ride out Hurricane Sandy (wtvr.com)
- Are You in the Path of Hurricane Sandy? (minorleagueball.com)
- Hurricane Sandy Cocktail Suggestions (tmrzoo.com)
A few weeks ago I moved into a new office. It is shiny, and I got to buy an office chair. I felt like such a pimp. An office supply pimp.
With new offices comes new responsibilities. It also comes with a little bit of celebratory seven layer dip that I may have eaten half of before bringing to the office. While we have enough dip to last us until next Cinco de Mayo, what we don’t have is a copy machine. I need to make copies. I am a big deal. Plus, copies are important, vital to business, and something about the bottom line.
In order to make copies I have to venture across a street to my company’s original building. I could probably walk. I certainly could drive my car. But, that’s not how we new-office-dwellers roll. This is how we roll:
All of this is wonderful news, right? Yes, but let me get to the point. In order to
crash drive into the main building with this pimpmobile, you have to drive through an area that requires that safety glasses and a hard hat be worn.
If you have read Why I Am Here, you are getting an A+. I am not sure on what, but it’s an honor, okay? If you read it, you would also know that I don’t own a hard hat. “Sadly”. Today, that has changed. Today, I must edit every bio I have ever released into the wild of the internet (because they are all the same). Today, I am legit. Read the rest of this entry
See what I did there? Did you see? Did you?
Let me preface this by saying I was inspired to write this post after reading Melanie Crutchfield’s How to Be Beautiful. If girls pooped I probably would have shat myself laughing when I read it. I’d award her with free underwear if that wasn’t a weird thing to do. If
I hadn’t given up Photoshop so quickly because I sucked at it my free Photoshop trial hadn’t expired, I too would use it to make my own funny image additions here on my blog.
My mother is and always was into fashion, beauty products, make-up, and stuff of similar categories. This is why I do not understand how I was so beauticiously challenged growing up. I don’t remember her ever teaching me how to do things like put on my make-up, shave my legs, or pluck my eyebrows. I don’t think this is because she didn’t want to or try to, I was just too stubborn to wait for her to decide that I was old enough. I can’t blame her. I know she just wanted to see me as young and innocent forever, but come on, I was walking around with so much blonde hair on my middle school gams that it looked like Cousin It was humping my leg.
Because of my impatience, and therefore, lack of instruction and proper guidance, I had one too many beauty fails as an awkward 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, and 16-year-old girl.
For starters, I was initially too afraid to shave using an actual razor, so I resorted to Nair. If you like to bathe in acid you should try it. Nair should be illegal.
Once I conquered my fear of the razor, I became adversely razor-happy and went on a razor binge. It started out innocently enough. You see, my hair is naturally curly (had you fooled didn’t I?). This means I had what I call whispies (also known as fly-aways) framing my face. I had a ton of them, and I wanted them gone. So, what did I do? I shaved my fucking hair-line. When that worked out dreadfully, of course I didn’t hesitate to moved on to my eyebrows. I am still trying to grow them back to their full volume to this day. Read the rest of this entry
Because I had so much fun last week turning you all into celebs, I am continuing with a few more this week.
I also got a fortune cookie today that read: Hearty laughter is a good way to jog internally without having to go outdoors. Does this mean if I read enough of the aforementioned bloggers’ material that I can stop having to run on the treadmill at my shady gym? That would be convenient.
Stay tuned to meet The Man Huntress.
- 7 Days, 7 Ways: How Celebs Outfit Spring’s Pretty Peplum Trend (fabsugar.com)
- Celeb Street Style: 20 Pretty Ladies In Trench Coats (thefrisky.com)
- Pretty vs beauty (rebeccaleightruebeauty.wordpress.com)