I think that handicap parking signs should also be titled “and for fully physically capable people when it’s raining or cold outside.” The freezing, wet, dismal weather? Not my cup of tea. I don’t like to have wet pant all day long. I don’t. The cold and dismal weather I can deal with, but add freezing, 48-hour long rain to the mix? Count me out. Put me into hibernation, Papa Bear. Wake me up when spring has sprung.
Or when dinner’s ready; whichever comes first.
Who the fuck came up with the spelling of “colonel?” In what way is this phonetically correct? I get that there are plenty of words with silent letters, like “knife” and “reign,” but “colonel?” Good lord. I still remember the first time I saw the spelling–I believe it was the fifth grade. We were learning about George Washington. Either that or I was eating KFC. Where are the rules, Merriam? Show me the rules, you sly bastard.
On Wednesday, our team had a pumpkin carving fest at the office. That afternoon, I excitedly hopped in the car and drove to Hy-Vee to pick out the perfect orange specimen to turn into a work of art later that night. After browsing over a good 130 pumpkins, and even putting one in my cart only to change my mind and put it back again, I finally spotted it: the perfect pumpkin.
It was festively plump, unmarked by bruises or scratches, and it even had a perm. Boy, was I excited.
After lugging the orange beast to the office and bragging about how my pumpkin could not and would not be trumped by any other pumpkin, I pondered a design. Then it came to me:
State of the art. Who doesn’t enjoy a barfing pumpkin? Food poisoning will get you every time, Jack.
What really perplexes me is the people who spend their lives growing enormous pumpkins, like pumpkins the size of a Honda Civic. The biggest pumpkin ever grown and recorded to date weighed in at a massive 1,758 pounds in Ohio. I’m not sure if you know this, but in order to encourage a pumpkin to develop into such monstrous proportions, it’s like a full time job. Water it, fertilize it, give it the exact right amount of sunshine, take its temperature, play it Mozart, change its diaper–you have to baby and nurture that gourd like it’s the most fragile infant baby you’ve ever taken responsibility of. Who has the time to do this? And what for what reason do people spend time doing this, other than to be able to say they did?
“Have you ever been to Europe?”
“No, but I grew a pumpkin in my back yard that weighed over a metric ton.”
Just stay at a Holiday Inn Express–you get the same kind of bragging rights and you can avoid looking like a freak of nature at the same time.
Last night, Trent and I went to the movie theater to see Paranormal Activity, which I had heard great things about. Afterward, people asked me if it was good. To answer your question, maybe I would have known more about the movie if all six rows behind me had not been filled with pre-pubescent thirteen year old girls shrieking like piglets being burned at the stake the entire length of the movie. I did not pay ten dollars to go to a movie, only to find out that it’s a double-feature: Paranormal Activity in the front, and The Babysitters’ Club in the back.
Who let these girls into this theater? From the sounds of it, they could not have even handled watching A Princess Diary without pissing their pants. Literally, the noise behind us was a constant stream of “OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG, DON’T GO UP THERE EEEEEEEKKKKK!!! OMG OMG OMG!!!” I about cartwheeled over the aisle and karate chopped the shit out of the Hannah Montana crew ruining my movie experience like they were getting paid to do it. As a kid, I was so irritated that rated R movies had an age restriction. Now I understand why. I want my money back. My movie watching experience was ruined because AMC’s minimum wage ushers don’t take their job seriously enough to card at the door. I’m killing everyone. Other than that, great movie.
Anyway, it’s time for me to do something other than sit. Maybe lay down, I’m not sure.
“Excuse me–just what, exactly, is apple cider made out of?”
“Apple cider. Next question.”