Brought to you by Panty Liners

This Christmas my sister gave me what I needed to redo my bathroom:

And my mother gave me what I needed for what I do in my bathroom:



Yes, she thinks she's hilarious. She also gave me really nice perfume, the painting that's hanging in my bathroom, and beautiful shoes--but I have to say the panty liners are what really made an impression.

Turns out panty liners aren't just for women's monthly extravaganza. They also serve other purposes that, thanks to my mother, I have had the opportunity to find:

• Champagne glass koozie - While a pad may be appropriate to keep your Miller Lite chilled, Champagne is just too classy for that super absorbent nonsense. That's why I use Panty Liners, not just as a necessity, but as an accessory to any champagne glass.
• Socks? Slippers? Shoes? Forget it. Why not just stick a couple of panty liners on the bottom of your feet? Not only will your feet be protected from the floor, but it will easily pick up any spills.
  
• Sleeping Mask--this way the band around your head doesn't mess with your hair or give you a headache. Just peel and stick!
• No outside drinks allowed in a movie theater? What about panty liners? Just soak that liner in your favorite soft drink, then once you're inside wring it out into a glass. Wallah!
• Is that pot too hot for you? Don't waste your time going to get a pot holder. Just adhere a panty liner to each of your pot handles and you'll always get that pot roast out of the oven right on time.
  
• How is it that I can spend all this time writing this blog, you ask? Because I have panty liners stuck to my mouse and my butt cheeks for comfort as I type this post.
  

"This Hurts!"

Even if you've already seen this, please rewatch and rewatch and rewatch this poor fat kid on a roller coaster as he thinks he's about to die. Funnier is the evil laugh of the woman next to him. As he screams "this hurts" while almost squeezing through the safety harness, he reminds me of constipation personified.

Finding Holly

When walking up to my place with two friends of mine after a night out, a girl was standing in front of my complex intently texting someone. Being the silly nerd I am, as I walked up to her I said, "Who are you texting?" I assumed my awkward joke would get a mean look in return. Instead, the girl immediately looked up at me and ever-so innocently and wide-eyed replied, "Holly," almost as if it was a question. As if she was asking me if it's okay.

Her response was so sweet and unnecessary that I have laughed every time I remember it. If I ever see you on the street, I'll reenact it for you. And if you are that girl, I think you should forget Holly and we should be friends.

Butt Shock

The bookkeeper at work just asked me, "Have you ever gotten shocked in your butt?"

I couldn't give her a straight answer because obviously she needed to be more specific.

There's A Point...

I noticed this guy while I was working out the other day. He was on the treadmill in front of me and had a huge whole under his armpit in his shirt. At first I just glanced at him and thought, "Wow, time to retire that shirt." But as I studied him, I noticed even more about him. I didn't know whether to be repulsed or to be proud of him for wearing whatever he wanted and truly not caring. He looked like George Castanza but worse with his extremely thin, tight shirt tucked into his snug workout shorts. His shirt was so thin, that I could see the quilt of hair coating his back through his black shirt.

When he finished his workout, he turned and I caught a glimpse of the front of him. It looked like Wolverine had slashed his shirt and tufts of his grey chest hair were filtering out of the slashes all over his shirt.

So after seeing this man in dire need of new workout clothes, I searched and searched online and finally found this website that he may find useful: www.walmart.com

Crunk Juice

Okay so maybe I was wrong. I guess guys aren't attracted to hi-top fades. But I didn't care cause I was too busy singing, "YOU..YOU GOT WHAT I NEEEEEEEEEED...AND YOU SAY HE'S JUST A FRIEND..."

Like my grandmother used to always say, "Thank the Lord for Crunk Juice whatever the &@!% that is."

Girls' Weekend!

Although it's only Thursday, Girl's Weekend Part II 2008 starts tonight! Our girls weekends are when a group of us, single and married, get together and laugh so hard at least two of us pee in our pants. It's where the married girls flirt with the single guys, and when the guy thinks he has a chance she says, "Uuuh whatever! I'm married." It's where the married girls come out expecting a show. It's where the single girls try their hardest to produce that show. Because if their married friends can't make out with strangers, dagnabbit, single girls are going to do it for them! It's where broken-hearted girls are taken out on the town by their girlfriends, and reminded of how fun they truly are and how happy they can truly be.

Our first night will be at Alamo Ritz's 90s Hip Hop sing-a-long. I plan on wearing a jogging suit with my hair styled into a hi-top fade. Oh how the boys will follow.

Just when you thought you were alone...

Did you know that Vultures pee on themselves? Their urine keeps their body clean by destroying harmful pathogens that get on them as they rummage through rotting meat.

They also vomit at you as a defense mechanism. When threatened, they'll spew rancid vomit that's smell alone could make you faint. And some vultures' vomit is so acidic that it can burn you.

See, this is the very reason why I refuse to date vultures.

Even Sharon

I was offering a friend advice who said he was feeling stressed. All he has to do is type five words in a chat session and then he gets a novel back. Anyway, as I was offering advice--a.k.a. I was babbling on and on as if the words were in my head and not in a chat session--I realized something about myself: that I am too positive for my own good.

My problem isn't that I'm depressed because things aren't happening. My problem is that I'm happy even if things aren't going my way. I'm generally content. But I need to be mad. I need to get angry and fight for what I want--instead of trusting that it will happen. And even as I typed that sentence, in my head I said, "But it will."I think there's no hope for me.

The ones that succeed aren't the content. It's those that had to overcome struggles to get where they are. They had to fight to prove themselves.

Maybe this is a confidence problem. As in I'm too confident that things are going to work out for me. Actually I do find that I have a sort of Seinfeld thing going on with me where everything seems to balance out. I lose two friends, I gain four. I forget to bring my lunch to work, and a client brings lunch to the office. I lose a hundred dollars, I find a hundred dollars on the floor of a bar downtown. (Okay the last one really happened. I was short on cash and found a hundred dollars on the ground when my earring randomly dropped to my feet. I initially thought the money fell out of my wallet--since I had a hundred dollars in my wallet that night. And then when I went to put the money in my wallet, CHA-CHING!--It was already there. It did occur to me to attempt to find its owner, but I knew that the first person I asked would claim it. )

Light Bulb!

I took this photo the Saturday morning after Halloween as I waited for everyone to wake up after crashing the night before.

The low aperture (fuzzy background) helps to hide the broken bulbs on the light strand that were broken the night before courtesy of someone dressed as "Two-Face." When the light strand fell to the floor, the broken glass made a home on my shins, maybe in my drink, and all over the guy dressed in Goth to my right.

Later Goth Guy was puking all over our host's dishes in her sink. I like to think these two events are related somehow.