Moo juice.

I got a wild hair up my ass today while I was in the grocery store, and purchased a carton of vanilla flavored almond milk. It exceeded my expectations. I sprinkled a little Equal in there, and sucked down probably a quarter of the container just tonight. At least it has half the calories of milk, so I don’t go from moo-moo to muumuu in the blink of an eye.

My illness continues. I have had a sinus headache since Friday night. My skull feels like it’s a basketball filled so full of air that it is just milliseconds away popping. I’m so clogged up. My brain feels like a bowling ball. I have blown my nose so many times today. How can there be any mucus left? I don’t even know where it’s coming from. The snot elves are working overtime up there in my nasal cavity. Assholes. Take a lunch break. Cripes.

I was driving behind an [idiot] driver today on the highway whose license plate tag said “I’d rather be WEAVING.”  Obviously that woman and I would never be friends. Your life must suck really, really badly if all you would rather be doing is making sweaters for cats with yarn.

I have come across an unusually high number of “your/you’re” and “they’re/there/their” offenders today. The issue is that these people are people I barely know or do not know at all who somehow pop up on my newsfeed, polluting it with improper grammar and spelling. You know, stinking up the place. Farting all over the dictionary, as it were. I desperately want to be the grammar assassin and correct them, but it doesn’t seem polite. What would Jesus do?

If you are a man looking to increase your sex appeal, and let’s be honest, who isn’t (besides James Franco who physically cannot become any sexier than he already is), immediately leave your home, get into your vehicle, and drive yourself to the nearest Wal-Mart or Target and purchase yourself Dove Men+Care Clean Comfort.

The smell alone will drive women in heat from every neighboring town to flock to you instinctively. You won’t even know what to do to ward them off. Women will be drawn to your scent in a staggering, zombie-like trance, stopping at nothing to get to your flesh. It will be insane. You will feel uncomfortable because of the attention you will receive because of how tantalizing you will smell.

Have I made my point?

You’re welcome, Dove.

…I just reached over, grabbed Trent by the arm and started sniffing again. It’s that good. I am not exaggerating.

Well, I need to watch some television. It’s that time of night. Goodbye.

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“The best chocolate milk comes from a Whole Foods type of store near my hometown….it comes in a glass bottle, and you can only buy it by the half gallon. There’s nothing skim about it.”

 

You catch more flies with honey.

Why the f-ck would I want to attract flies?

I’m pretty much over America’s Got Talent. Eight out of ten contestants are idiots with mental problems who are so bad they aren’t even entertaining. One out of ten contestants is mediocre at best, and they still vote them through. The last one out of ten is actually talented, and they should be on a show that takes them seriously.

I think the horrible auditions on this show should get slimed instead of buzzed. That would be a lot more gratifying of a consequence. Something to scare the talent-less blockheads out there out of auditioning in the first place. Sliming would be great. Electric shocks would also suffice. Trap doors that drop them into shark tanks would be even better.

.

I spent the first 18 years of my life turning up my nose at cottage cheese. It is by far one of the most unattractive foods in the world. My old college roommate would continually badger me to give it a try, and I would loudly decline her offer, making disgusted faces and telling her she was a barbarian for eating something so grotesque. I mean, look at it. It looks like something that’s growing in my kitchen sink. Then one day, I finally gave in. I sneered at the spoonful of cottage cheese, and begrudgingly put it in my mouth.

It was good.

After I got over the fact that it looks like VD, it tastes like string cheese.

I think it would be funny if instead of being sentenced to jail for nonviolent crimes, offenders had their crimes tattooed to their foreheads.

“I PEEK INTO DRESSING ROOMS.”

“I STOLE A FORD TEMPO.”

“I SET MY BROTHER ON FIRE.”

“I PEE ON KIDS.”

 

Tiaras are juvenile. People need to stop wearing them at proms and weddings. The only person who is allowed to don a tiara is Kate, and her opportunity was already redeemed at her royal wedding. Even then, it’s pushing it. They make you look like a four year old playing dress-up. Can we all agree on this?

A man on television just said, “She died ‘fairly instantaneously.’“  Okay; it’s either instantaneously or it’s not. There’s no “fairly” instantaneously. That’s like saying “the car accident was relatively fatal.” The bitch either died or she didn’t. Am I the only one left in the world with a vocabulary more advanced than a third grader’s? I’m beginning to think that I am.

Well, I guess I’ll be going now. Have a mediocre day.

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“She then told me that her friend who I also don’t know follows me as well and she loves me HARD. I was all like ‘get the f-ck out’ and she was all like ‘east side to the west side muthaf-cker’ and I was like ‘yeah I have no idea what’s going on now’. “

http://beckydelport.blogspot.com/

Moo la la.

Back in high school, I wouldn’t wear anything that didn’t say Hollister or American Eagle across the chest. I was a douche. Pretty much everyone was though. We all wanted to be “cool.” Unless of course you were “gothic” back then and only bought things that were black or lime green from Hot Topic, like Invader Zim backpacks, spiked dog collars, and Jnco Jeans with pockets deeper than the Pacific Ocean, and played “Magic” at lunch by yourself in the corner of the cafeteria.

Kids. So gullible. There really isn’t anything fashionable, period, about a graphic tee that just says “Abercrombie & Fitch” on front. It’s just a t-shirt. A t-shirt that costs $60, that is. Unbelievable.

Listen, all you high schoolers out there. Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister are overpriced articles of generic clothing. You don’t believe me now, and you won’t believe me for quite some time, but in a couple years when you’re broke in college, you’ll realize that a white t-shirt from Target that costs $11 is the same as the white t-shirt from Hollister. The only difference is the Hollister one has a teeny-tiny logo of a seagull on it, and costs five times as much.

You’ll learn.

$9. Target.

$39. Hollister.

While we’re on the topic, what in god’s name are the jeans manufacturers up there at Hollister Company modeling their pants sizes off of? Trees?

Back in 10th grade, I had to buy a size 11 jeans at Hollister. I weighed 114 pounds. I should have been wearing a standard size 2 or 3. Unfortunately, Hollister’s “size 3” jeans have pant legs no wider than baseball bats, while their waists could fit around a 100 year old oak tree trunk. They’re basically upside-down cone shaped. I had no option but to purchase a size 11 to fit my human-sized (maybe on the meaty side) legs, and then use a belt in the most obnoxious way to scrunch in the excess four inches of denim around my hips so they would stay up. Stupid.

I love Target. A lot. Target is one of my favorite places to go. If I’m bored, I often cruise over to Target just to browse. They have a LOT of cute clothes, swim suits, shoes, great cosmetics, and everything is so moderately priced. I have been surprised with Wal-Mart’s selection as of late also. Granted, the majority of their clothing is size XXL and up and has Tweety Bird or the American flag across the chest, but if you dig around enough, they have some pretty stylish threads. Take this maxi dress that I purchased yesterday, for example:

Only $14. I looked like a hot hippie all day. Can’t beat it.

Why don’t they put Equal or Sweet n Low in every gallon of milk ever made? This is a brilliant idea. Everyone knows milk that has had Frosted Flakes marinating in it for ten minutes is the greatest tasting nectar known to mankind. Sweet-milk has got to be a million dollar idea, I’m sure of it. I’m not talking about super dense Carnation brand style condensed and sweetened milk. I mean delicious, fresh skim milk lightly sweetened with artificial sweeteners. I have been sprinkling several packets of Equal on my heaping bowl of sliced bananas and strawberries with All-Bran on a daily basis, and BOY is it ever delicious. I love artificial sweeteners. Never mind the risk of brain cancer that people keep talking about. Flavor is more important to me than the 50/50 chance of disease.

Well, I’m off to take my bored dog on a play date. He has dug string cheese out of the trash and Bubblicious out of my purse between today and yesterday because it’s been 100 degrees outside and mama refuses to take him out to exercise. Poor bastard.

Merry Christmas,

Rebecca.

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“I hate it when all of my clothes are dirty and I’m forced to wear things that I would normally do yard work in to school.”

Too much inforgaytion.

“Finishing up dinner.”

That is a status update I just read.

…….a mobile status update.

Was letting everyone know that you were almost done eating your supper that pressing of an announcement that you had to reach for your cell phone between bites of beef stroganoff, log on, and inform everyone via Facebook update? What is going on with the world?

I think it’s time to start creating some sort of guideline for status updates. There are certain announcements that need not be shared with everyone in your network. Here are a few unnecessary categories that you can skip out on informing the rest of us of:

Irrelevant updates. These are the status updates that do not matter to anyone else in the entire world. Examples:

“Jared Blake – ironing my bandanas!”

“Melissa Pierce is reading Twilight again lol. #obsessed.”

“Danielle Wright is tanning!!”

“Stephen Morris: just bought a power washer.”

Riveting information, guys, but idgaf.

Emotional updates. People don’t feel sorry for you when you post country song lyrics about heart break and abuse the ellipsis to express your discontent. Examples:

“I just don’t know what to do anymore…..”

“What happened to us….. </3”

“*sigh*”

“Thought it was gonna be a sigh of relief but now I just wanna scream. F*ck emotions sometimes. I hate that I care so much sometimes bc it hurts so bad.”

^ That one was actually real. Write this shit in your diary and stick it under your mattress. Nobody cares about what’s going on inside your teenage angst gripped heart.

Updates that are directed toward one individual person in particular. If you have something to say to someone, say it directly to them. Send them a text message. Call them. Send them a fax. I don’t care what you do, just don’t post it to everyone else in your network. If you’re going to yell at your ex-boyfriend for cheating on you, then yell at your ex-boyfriend for cheating on you. At him. Not at everyone else.

“Omg Travis, I can’t believe you would do that 2 me; I gave you everything! Such a prick, guys r all the same. Don’t talk to me ever again.”

“You really find out who your friends are….”

“You are SO annoying.”

Emoticons. These aren’t even updates.

😦.

😛.

❤

I also hate seeing people comment on their friends’ Facebook walls things like, “Text me!” or  “Hey, I’m going to BBM you later.”  Just…do those things. Just “BBM” them. Don’t inform them via a different technological medium that you’re planning on doing it. Just do it. Why would you write on someone else’s Facebook wall that you would like them to text you? Why wouldn’t you just…text them? People are so, so special.

Get real, folks. Bye.

-Rebecca.

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“Don’t you love it when people in school are like, ‘I’m a bad test taker.’ You mean you’re stupid. Oh, you struggle with that part where we find out what you know? Oh, I can totally relate; I’m a brilliant painter, minus my god-awful brush stroke. Oh, how the masterpieces crystal up here, but once paint has hit canvas, I develop Parkinsons.”