All The Early Bird Gets Is Boredom

Ever wake up early for no reason at all?

I realize that the majority of the world wakes up early each morning. I, however, am not one of them. I'm more of a night person, which makes it difficult to be a morning person.

Today I woke up at eight o'clock. Wait. I woke up and got out of bed at eight o'clock this morning. Seriously, I think I deserve some kind of medal for this. I took a shower, made myself breakfast and cleaned the entire apartment including my room (and closet). Unfortunately, I don't have anything else to do now. I don't even have a made up list to go off of.

I did get to call my sister at eight-thirty this morning. She likes to play this game where she calls me when she knows I'm still in bed just to annoy me. I was hoping that she was still asleep. My plan was to scream into the phone, "How's it feel, sucker?!?!"

She was up making breakfast already so she didn't answer. She did call me back a half hour later, though. She was worried that I needed a ride to the hospital since I called her so early.

Is There An Online Course For This?

Do you speak teen?

Would you like to learn?

According to this article, there is a language barrier that is responsible for the communication void between teenagers and their parents.

To help, two phychologists co-authored a book titled  Teenage as a Second Language:  A Parent’s Guide to Becoming Bilingual. The book suggests that learning to speak "teen" is the same as learning to speak French or Spanish.

Need examples?

1. ) "Whatever"



•An expression that implies that a teen may give in but is not really interested in what is being said
•An attempt to be dismissive in as few words as possible.


Suggested Parental Response: Leave this alone. Do not let your own concern that your teen may be less than thrilled create an unnecessary controversy.
 
 
3.) "Fine"


•I will reluctantly consent, but not with pleasure.
•An intentionally vague description used when teenager clearly has no interest in providing further detail.


Suggested Parental Response: None needed. You have made your wishes known.


You need a book to tell you this? I remember being a teenager. It was like someone injected an overdose of hormones into my veins and left me to fend for myself in the desert without any water. It was awful. Of course I didn't know how to communicate my feelings. There were far too many of them happening at one time for even me to know what they were. Plus, at this age you are trying to learn how to think rationally and communicate reasonably. While dealing with a Sasquatch of emotional clusterfuck.

Need advice on how to deal with your teenage monster? Ask your mom how you acted when you were that age and see if she answers with, "Oh we read a book on how to communicate with you and everything was a field of sunshine and smiles from then on."

This article did leave me with a few unanswered questions overall. Is it called Teeneze, Teenish or Teenan? And can I get this through Rosetta Stone?

We Need To Stand Together!!

Dear blogger friends,
(and random people who googled Klondike Bar and ended up on this site)

Today I would like to address a rising epidemic in this country. I feel that this could be the true demise of our nation as a whole, and we need to bring it out into the open so that we can stop it where it stands. Many people are afraid to talk about it. Many just don't want to be the one to stand up and say, 'Please stop. You're just embarrassing yourself.'

But I stand (sit) before you today and proudly shout (type) to the world:

Stop fucking doing duckface! You look like a deformed pensive moron who's expression is preceded by a valley-style 'Uh.....whaat?'

In case you are confused as to what I am talking about (I doubt anyone is confused as to what I'm talking about) here is the Urban Dictionary definition of duckface.

Duckface:

A term used to describe the face made if you push your lips together in a combination of a pout and a pucker, giving the impression you have larger cheekbones and bigger lips.


Translation? You look like an idiot.

Stop Copying Me!!!

Thank God that there are websites willing to bring this to the attention of stoners and slackers everywhere. I mean, it's true that those cursed by this horrible disease are most likely out spreading the virus rather than sitting at home surfing the web, but slowly we can get their attention if enough people realize that this behavior is self-destructive and contradictory to their duckface cause.

Thanks to AntiDuckface.com we can see firsthand the damage that these girls have done to their reputation. My favorite?

If I do duckface will I give birth to a wallet as well?

See, Mom, I don't even need a job!



I beg you. Let us stand together and keep this country from falling apart over something so easily cured. Next time you see someone posing in this manner walk up to them and say, 'Stop. It.'
 
Of course I won't because I think it's funny to keep letting them make idiots of themselves.
 
 
*Not enough duckface for you? Check out this video.

Would You Like A Side Of Love For Fifty Cents More?

At Shmupplebees our menu changes roughly every three months or so. We have to go to an early meeting to 'learn about the food,' but really we just watch the same videos as every other meeting we've had.

To help us sell the over-priced/under-tasting items to our tables, we are taught about 'sizzle words.' These are words that can be used to make the food sound better than it actually is.

Would you like to try our creamy spinach dip today?
(Would you like to try our dip which I really don't like because it may as well be a thick spinach soup?)

One time (and I really wish I had stolen one of these menus so I could show it to people) we were sitting at one of these meetings going over the 'sizzle words' in the descriptions on the newest menu. The description of the Nachos was pretty much the same as always, with one exception. After the reader bypasses the usual chips/cheese/jalapenos/pico/etc. he encounters an add-on.

...with a side of love.

With a side of what?

I don't know about you, but that does not sound appetizing to me. I've heard of cooks putting a 'side of love' on things*, but I don't think it should be advertised in the menu. That's just unsanitary.


*I have never seen a cook do this at my restaurant if that makes you feel better. It probably does happen at other places, though. Be nice to your server.

100th Post

I thought long and hard about what to do for my 100th post.

Then I said fuck it.

Here's some kittens.

Thanks for all your comments! You guys are awesome!

Check Yes No Or Maybe

We all have our first loves, right? And no, I'm not talking about my feelings for the magical hair products that Justin Beiber uses. I'm talking about that first time that you see that special someone and realize that your life will never be complete without them in it. Maybe he's standing across the room at the water fountain sucking the delicious nectar through his sweet puckered mouth. Maybe he's sitting on a park bench in front of a sparkling pond on a warm summer's eve. Or maybe you met him in the third grade and he broke your heart.

Okay, that's a little melodramatic, but the first crush I ever tried to do anything about didn't go very well for me.

Does anyone remember passing these kinds of notes in elementary school?

I don't know if that's how children try and get each other's attention in today's young society. They probably have a phone app that sends it for them. When I was in third grade, though, We had to write this out on a piece of paper, hide it in the person's desk/backpack, and decide whether to put our own names on it or let our friends slowly let the person know gave them the note through deciphered giggles.

I put my name on it.

He threw it in the trash.

Maybe the guy on the park bench will like me more.



**Also, I was asked to share an article with all of you reading this. It is about the top reasons that people choose to buy a home over renting. I went over to look at it and it has some pretty useful tips if you are interested in that. If so, you can check it out here. No, I did not get paid to do this. Yes, if someone offered to pay me to put something like that up I'd probably do it. I smoke cigarettes. It's an expensive habit.

Dumbo Fly Me Away To Success!

One of my favorite parts of history is looking back on the media of certain periods and comparing them to the social view of the time. I also like to look at current commercials and television shows and see what truths they hold within the social stigmas we have today.

So what can you learn from television? Women are strong but still feminine. They are storming in and taking their place in the world.

Until a man comes and sweeps them off their feet that is.

If a woman is portrayed as highly successful then a string of sad broken relationships is written into her past.

A couple months ago I was at work and heard one of my female co-workers saying, 'I wish I could just get a millionaire to fall in love with me. Then my life would be better.'

To which I replied, 'I don't want a rich man to fall in love with me. I want to become rich on my own.'

I think that's what I said. The way the girl looked at me I might have actually said, 'I don't want a rich man to fall in love with me. I want to fly with Dumbo and poop on a throne.'

I must work on my annunciation.

Oh My Brave Brave Sister....

CkretsGalore at Kick Her Right In The Habit gave me the LOL award. She thinks I'm funny and is double-jointed in her toes so go check her out.  

I am in charge of a 7 year old girl today, so I'm feeling a bit lazy regarding this award. If you want to know seven secrets about me go here. If you want this award then comment on this post and call dibs. Or just take it. You deserve it for being awesome.

You can even call it the awesome award if you want, I don't care, because the main thing I am concerned with right now is how someone so small can talk for so long without running out of air.

I usually watch my niece for a couple hours every Wednesday, but my sister has parent-teacher conferences to do tonight so we are hanging out with each other until nine. I'm such a great aunt that I had to find out what her bedtime is and all that 'parenty' stuff. No, I didn't already know. Yes, my sister is very brave to leave her beloved child in my care for such a long period of time. Yes, it's possible that I just watch her to remind my uterus the repercussions of having a baby. Whatever. I'm still helping out and it still counts.

And if you are wondering, I remembered to feed her. I think.....

Free Money? Hell Yeah!

Does anyone else get these e-mails?

Dear friend,This message might meet you in utmost surprise. However, it's just the urgent need for a foreign partner that made me to contact you for this transaction. I am Mr Buru Onya from Burkina Faso in west Africa. I got your e-mail contacts from website after my extensive search for capable person. I prayed and meditated fervently over it and i committed it into the hands of almighty that you should be the rightful person to help out before I made up my mind to contact you today.


I have the opportunity of transferring the left over fund sum of US$39.500 Million dollars into a foreign account and the said fund belongs to our deceased client. Hence, I am inviting you for a business deal where this money can be shared between us in the ratio of 60/40 if you agree to my business proposal.


Further details of the transfer will be forwarded to you as soon as I receive your return mail. Reply me here for security reasons, Email


(mrburuonya@voila.fr)

Let's review some facts about this.

1. It was sent to undisclosed recipients.

2. I'm pretty sure the IRS would be just a tad bit suspicious of thirty-nine and a half million dollars just magically showing up in my bank account. I'm not paying taxes on your stolen money, buddy.

3. They are from West Africa. It seems that every time I get one of these the person/asswipe sending it resides in that area. The first one I received freaked me the hell out. The "lady" said she was from Ivory Coast. I was in high school and didn't know very much about, well, anything. My friend had to explain to me that the internet is really just a spider-web of all the personal information you've ever put on it and it wouldn't be that difficult to appeal to me by choosing the place I lived as a child. Either that or all these people are just siting in West Africa on hoards of money, and nothing would make them happier than to give me forty percent of it.

4. They just want my bank account number. Then I would have to deal with the guilt of disappointing this nice man. I am a server so I live off of cash. I only go to the bank after dropping my rent check off. The rest of the month I just kind of forget that I even have an account because I don't need to use it.



I've always wondered what would happen if I actually followed through with one of these. I wouldn't suggest trying it, and I am never going to do it either. I'm right under 100% positive that they are just trying to steal my non-existent money/identity, but if you know of any good stories related to this (you can cheat and use Google) e-mail me or leave it in the comments section. I'm always up for some entertainment.

Captcha Magic

Captcha of the day?

Writioso (Write-chi-o-so)

Whipping out your magic wand and using this spell will cause your brilliant novel to write itself.

I used the Writioso spell and ended up on the best seller list. So much better than the typistastas spell I tried last week.

When Maidens Play

One magical night a young-ish beautiful maiden by the name of Kara decided to enjoy a few beers at her apartment. She was having a wonderful evening with her roommate, Shmishelle, and their boyfriends when she became very sleepy. Kara was led to a gloriously soft bed where she put her head down on the lovely pillow and closed her drooping brown eyes.

After laying there for a minute, Kara decided that she wanted to wake up a bit so that she could have a cheeseburger. She opened one squinting eye to see how it felt. When a few seconds had passed she felt awake enough to let the other eye peek through its lid. Wrinkling her nose in groggy concentration, Kara reached over to her bookshelf where she had set her goblet of whiskey and diet coke. She took a few deep breaths because, even though her eyes had been closed when her handsome boyfriend had claimed her drink as his own, her maiden ears had heard the prolonged tinkling of extra whiskey being poured into the goblet. Being the strong and brave maiden she was, Kara decided to have a drink of it anyway even though she knew how strong it would be.

She drew the goblet to her lips and gasped as the sour liquid reached her lips. She puckered her lips and set the drink down after taking a large maiden-like gulp from the brimming edge.

Suddenly, Kara knew that something was not right. She took a few more deep breaths but realized that her saliva was collecting in the back corners of her mouth. Trying to ignore it, Kara got up and went to the bathroom to relieve herself (go pee). While sitting on the porcelain throne, she began sucking steady inserts of air into her lungs, trying to make the feeling go away. The whiskey demon was not to be slain, however. Struggling to gather paper from the roll next to her throne, she hurriedly wiped herself before standing up, turning around and relieving herself from a different direction.

Standing there, bent over the throne with her pants clutched between her thighs, the beautiful maiden wished with all her might that no one chose to check on her at this moment for fear that they would her maiden-like behind as soon as they walked in. She continued to dispose of the night's previous beers into the throne until she stood up, pulled her pants up and thought to herself, God. This would make an excellent post for my blog!

Happy Half-Assed Weekend!

Thanks Simple Dude!

Oh HELL No I Won't Bring You Your Beers!

Remember when I posted about this table? (Read it or this post won't make sense.)

At work last night I picked up a drink ticket, thinking I'd pretend to be a good employee for a few minutes and run some beers. I looked at the table where the two Bud Lights were supposed to go and saw my good friends, Mr. Bud Light, DDD Guy and the bitch who shoved them both out of her lady bits.

Rising above the situation I swiftly put the ticket back onto the bar, said Oh HELL no, and walked away.

I'm mature like that.

I am, in fact, so mature that I am going to post my letter to DDD Guy again.

Enjoy.




Dear Drunk Drunk Drunk guy,

I'm sorry that you are so insecure that you have to treat people like dog-shit when you know they can't say anything back to you. It's really not your fault. I know that you feel bad about yourself because you don't have the looks or charm to make up for the fact that you have a tiny penis. But being a fat deuchebag isn't all that bad. You can be the funny friend if you can learn to properly make jokes. Even better, you can be that guy that your friend really doesn't like, but keeps around to make himself seem that much more attractive to the ladies. It's like community service, you're helping average-looking people get laid too; just not yourself. I'm sorry you can't find anyone except hookers to have sex with you. But the bright side is that even though you can't see your penis, due to muscle memory your hand can find it every time, so you can still get your cookies.

Love,
Kara.

P.S. - Go fuck yourself. You're the only one who will.

What Would Kara Do? Now You Can Find Out!

Do you often find yourself wondering, What would Kara do (WWKD: buy the bracelet)? I often wonder what the hell is wrong with Kara, I mean myself, but that's just me... (haha...)

And yes, I did have to pause for a second to laugh at that. Some of you guys say you think I'm funny, but I'll bet you I think I'm funnier that you think I am.

Sorry...WWKD.

Well, you're in luck! I put my e-mail at the top of my page so that you can have quick and easy access to the inner thoughts of me. Just send me a message asking a question and what-not and I'll use it to fill up space on my blog/give you the most intelligent and insightful answer of your life.

No, Snow Day, You Won't Get Me Down!

So yesterday's ....poem?... was definitely not about a cheeseburgers. No one likes cheeseburgers that much.

I'm less cranky, though. I ..made.. myself a cheeseburger so that's taken care of.

Now today I have to deal with the boredom that comes with yet another snow day. You bet my ass (there's not much to bet, I'm sorry) that I'm not going outside to relieve the urge to slowly bang my head against my dvd rack for a half hour. It's cold out there. And there's snow.



Now I know some of you are worried. Some of you may be thinking, But Kara, if you don't go outside today you won't get any sunlight or fresh air. Your beauty may suffer because of it.

Don't worry. I appreciate your concern, but I do go outside every hour or two for some fresh air and sunlight. And a cigarette. So I'm good.

And I used a face mask.

Because I have nothing better to do today.

So..... due to boredom I am going to compile a to-do list.

1. Rearrange the pictures in the apartment and see how long it takes for anyone to notice.

2. Draw caricatures of my cats doing their 'cat' things (i.e. licking their butts, falling off the counters, being pushed off the counters, staring at a string like defeating it will end world hunger...okay the cats don't care about world hunger).

3. Begin drinking (maybe I have already...)

4. Put the absolutely worst movies my roommate and I own on a separate shelf and label said shelf, "Kara's All-Time Favourite Kick-Ass Movies!!!" and see if anyone notices.

5. Make a hat out of newspaper and sit in the bathtub waiting for someone to come in so I can "take their booty!" (Arrg! *Squawk!*)

6. Buy a newspaper. (Requires going outside)

6. Write a short story about a girl who is stuck inside on a snow day with a list of kick-ass plans for the day, and chooses to watch Mulan instead.

Ode To The Cheeseburger

You want to know what I really like?
I really like cheeseburgers.
So much that I get cranky when I don't get a cheeseburger.

I haven't had a cheeseburger in almost a week.

I feel like punching someone.
Anyone.
Maybe even a poor innocent kitty-cat.

I tried to have a cheeseburger last night.
I was turned down.
So now I have to make my own cheeseburger.

It may last long enough for multiple bites,
Or just one bite,
But I will get my damn cheeseburger one way or another.

One Kind Word Can Be Remembered Forever

I had to move back to Kansas from Africa when I was in sixth grade. It was halfway through the school year and we lived in Johnson County for about a month. We owned a house in a different city but it was being rented at the time so we had to wait for them to move out. I attended an elementary school for two weeks in Kansas City. I know there is a lot of bias towards Johnson County kids here in Kansas, but I want to say that of all I had to deal with after moving, these kids were by far the kindest to me. I know they thought I was weird, because I was. I was a scrawny white kid with huge glasses and weird clothes. I'm sure I stared at everything they found normal like I was a tourist waiting for the short bus to take me around and explain everything, but they were still nice to me.

It sounds simple, but you have to remember that children can be amazingly cruel. Maybe they talked behind my back; most likely a good portion of them have forgotten all about me since I wasn't there for very long, but during my two week stay at that school they took me under their American umbrella of culture and taught me simple things. I didn't know what four-square was; the taught me. I still hate four-square; that's not their fault. Most importantly, they taught me what the magical Little Debbie snacks were. I had never had one, laid eyes on one, touched one, etc. Upon my first bite angels descended into the cafeteria and sang a beautiful Little Debbie Hymn just for me.

I want to extend a thank you to those children. Granted, I don't remember any of their names and they don't remember mine, but I am still grateful to them for the way they took the time to let me know it was okay to be that different from other people.

That is a lesson I didn't fully understand until I moved to Illinois for college.

Probably because the most common things said about me were 'Why isn't she black?' and 'Wow, she learned English really quickly!'

To answer those, living in Africa does not automatically make you black, and we were missionaries so I had the English language down pretty well since that's what I spoke. You're welcome if you were confused.

Can I Buy One Of These At Home Depot?

You know what really irks my chain?

Bad cell phone reception.

I just hate it when I can't text my latest shananigans to my girlfriends when I want and where I want.

That's why I am so insanely jealous of these folks.

Apparently, the Di Marco family of Long Island has their very own tower right in the front yard of their residence. Lucky bastards.

They say it's an eyesore and a destruction of property value, but I bet they get the best reception of their entire neighborhood. Keeping up with the Jones's?

Pshaw. Keeping up with the Di Marcos is more like it.

Someone Dig The Groundhog Out Of The Hole!

Oh the weather outside is frightful,

and it fucking sucks out there.

I wish it looked like this outside...

I know, I know. There are plenty of you from states that got hit much worse than we did in Kansas, but I'm a wimp when it comes to snow so I feel like being a whiner.

My toes hurt.

There, I feel better.

To all of you who got it so much worse than we did, I offer my condolences. Stay warm, get drunk, and make some babies (or use condoms).

I am going to go off into the world of my apartment and enjoy this wonderful Groundhog's Day/my friend's birthday by staying warm, getting drunk, and using protection so that I don't make a baby.