I Giggle

So we're watching the NBA Finals, and it's riddled with commercials for the new Harry Potter movie. Exasperated, my husband just remarked, "Look at those kids! They're freaking college-aged now! What's next? Harry Potter and the Sacred Unpaid Internship? God!"

Sometimes he has fabulous one-liners.

Meet Butters.


Butters belongs to Anne and Stacy, two of my favorite people on the planet. Butters and I have something of a love-hate relationship. That is, he apparently loves to get in my bag while I'm gone and gnaw my mouth guard (which I wear at night to keep from grinding my teeth) all to hell. And I hate that.


This occurred over Spring Break in March. If you can believe it, several people suggested I continue to use it like this, including a dental assistant at my dentist's office. Um, no, thank you.

Today, I finally received my replacement mouth guard. Isn't it swanky? It's like the Cadillac (or if you are of my car-loving persuasion, the Toyota Prius) of mouth guards. Note the smooth, glossy surface and shallow custom grooves for a more comfortable fit. It even has my name laser etched on it! Oh yes, believe it.


Ahhh...all is right with the world again.

In quote of the day news, today's long-awaited quote comes from one of my students. It's the end of the school year and my classes are all finished with their work, so I gave them a free day. We went outside and I let the kids relax, play, read, or do whatever. I also took the game Apples to Apples with me. (If you're not familiar with this game, have shame. It's a word association game, and it's delightful. Don't worry about the details.) I played a few rounds with a small group of students, and at one point a girl threw out a card labeled "Clark Gable." The card gave a very brief summary of who Clark Gable was (including his birth and death years), and the girl loudly announced to me, "Mrs. S, I don't know who this is, but the dates are really old so I'm sure you'll know who it is."

Only in America

Put yourself in my shoes. I'm walking through Walgreens as I wait on a prescription. Meandering through the aisles, I giggle at the As Seen on TV products. I turn down another aisle and chuckle over the advancements in "Family Planning" products. I move on. As I round the corner into a fresh aisle, something catches my eye. "Did I just see the word 'paternity?'" I ask myself.

I stop and scan the shelf again. I'm about to give up looking when what to my wondering eyes should appear but the tiny little box with the words I knew I had caught a glimpse of: DNA Paternity Test. Retail price: $29.99. Don't believe me? See for yourself.

People, Walgreens is selling a paternity test. Just...let that sink in. We can now willy nilly go to the drug store and say to ourselves, "Shampoo--check. Ibuprofen--check. Oh, and while I'm here, I suppose I should go ahead and start on that 'find out who impregnated me' list." Has it really come to this? Does Maury Povich realize his empire could be toppled?

*sigh*

New Journal Funnies

Well, kids. It's time for a new batch of journal funnies. I've had these for a while, actually, but kept forgetting to post them. Doh. (What can you expect? We've already established and confirmed repeatedly that I am, indeed, an ass.) Additionally, do forgive the formatting and font inconsistencies here today. It makes me itch, it's so awful. However, blogger.com has apparently decided it wants to be picky today about html coding (which, naturally, I know nothing about), and I don't feel like fighting it.

Prompt: What is the worst job on the planet?

Answer 1: "I think the worst job on the planet would be a mattress salesman. What’s more boring than mattresses? NOTHING! If I had to spend all day selling mattresses, I would probably hate life….It would be so awful to stay in a bland room all day with a bunch of mattresses and creepy people."

Answer 2: "The worst job on the planet would probably be like being a proctologist or colon doctor, pretty much any job involving poop or anuses."

Answer 3: "I think that the worst job would be an actress in an Adam Sandler movie. If I were an actress that made it will enough to be in movies with famous actors, I would be extremely disappointed to be stuck with the most annoying, non-comical idiot on the planet."

Answer 4 (my personal favorite): "The worst job on the face of the planet for me would be personal assistant to Nicholas Cage. I don’t need that filthy money and don’t care how much it pays."

Prompt: Tell me the highlights of your winter break.

Answer: "Over winter break I was almost grounded three times. The first was when I wouldn’t sit on Santa’s lap. The second was when I didn’t want to be a Facebook friend with 'the woman who gave birth to me,' and the last was when a certain two-year-old Pictionary fight ended with an e-mail to Hasbro."

Prompt: Is poverty a necessary evil in our society?

Answer: "Yes! There always has to be someone on the bottom! (not like that…)"

Finally, today's quote of the day comes from a test I just graded. The question asked what the author was alluding to in the quote I gave the students. The answer: "She is alluding to the fall of Satin in the Bible." For those of you who are not as well versed in the scripture as I clearly am, Satin was Satan's sister. A naughty burlesque dancer with a penchant for cocaine, she was ostracized from the family after appearing on Rock of Love and hasn't been seen since the police sting in the public park bathrooms.

Never Short of Material, I Tell Ya

I have a few good quotes of the day to share with you before they fly off into the deep recesses of my mind and I lose them forever. It's a mixed bag this time, so just hold on for the ride, people.

1. Proof that I teach at the nerdiest school ever (and love it), two kids were comparing calculators in class. One says to the other, "You have a TI-86? How primitive."

2. Yesterday, I gave one of my classes a quiz over Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis. The quiz merely called for the students to provide a plot summary of the book to prove they had done the required background research on it. I got some of the standard fare by kids who didn't do that work--the classic "maybe being obscenely vague will get me somewhere" trick...things like, "A person does something. There are consequences and other things happen as a result." Those, let me tell you, are always delightful. My favorite, though, was from a kid who actually did do the background research but suffered from an unfortunate spelling error: "A guy named Gregor wakes up from a bad dream and turns into some kind of bug or incest." Heh...sometimes there are no words. All I could write back was, "That's an entirely different beast." I don't think he'll get it, but oh well.

3. The teacher next door to me has a three-year-old son who is pretty talkative. This teacher relayed the story of giving his child Nerds (the candy) as a reward for something. "Whatcha doing?" the child's mother said to the boy as she walked into the room. "Ohhh," he replied, "just eatin' some Turds!"

And with that I bid you adieu for now.

The Breast Comments I've Seen All Day

For many moons I have vehemently believed that the comments sections on online newspapers should be eradicated. Why? Because they tend to be overrun by 1. bigots, 2. people who never leave their homes and thus have way too much time on their hands, 3. people who have a nominal-at-best grasp of the English language, and 4. Republicans (see points one and two). (Ohhh, it's mostly a joke...don't get on me about it. sheesh)

So anyway, I have a long-standing problem with this "advancement" in technology.

However, today my local newspaper printed a story that contains the best online comments of all time. For your reading pleasure, I have copied the original article below, along with the best of the best from the comments section, which I have selected from nearly 150 posts (yes, it really WOULD appear I have a lot of time on my hands today):

More Than 300 Bras Stolen From Local Store

Authorities are investigating after more than 300 bras were reported stolen Monday from display drawers at Victoria's Secret in Eastland Mall, according to an Evansville Police Department report.

In all, 320 bras - worth $14,400 or $45 apiece - turned up missing.

Store employees reportedly noticed the bras were gone on Dec. 20, though the theft wasn't reported to police until Monday afternoon.

According to the report, store employees believe they were taken after Dec. 18. The store has surveillance, which it is still reviewing for possible suspects, the report said.

It was not immediately clear why the store waited so long to report this incident, though Evansville Police Department Spokesman Steve Green said chains often conduct their own internal investigations or work with their corporate offices before reporting crimes.

Best comments ever:
-"What kind of boob would do that?"
-"I guess Victoria's Secret has their panties in a wad over all of this."
-"Is there a 'support' group for this kind of crime?"
-"What a titillating story!"
-"Cross my heart I hope they find the people who did this." (This one is subtly clever, you see.)
-"Thank you, C&P, for keeping us abreast of this situation."
-"Talk about some bra-zar behavior!"
-"Must be revenge...(wait for it)...yep, it was tit-for-tat." (I love that this person was so confident in his or her zinger.)
-"I look forward to the capture of this miscreants. That will be an uplifting story."
-"A crime of this magnitude can only be solved by an investigator with hands-on experience."

Oh, thank you for the momentary giggles today, morons who post on newspaper comments forums.

My Resolution: To Muster Up a Regular Update

Ohhhh it's such a funny resolution. We all know I'm incapable of sticking to it. But it was an adorable glimmer of hope, wasn't it?

Well, the first semester is finally over, and I'm enjoying the end of my winter break. Christmas has come and gone, and overall it was a very nice one. My parents bought us a Wii, which is delightful in every conceivable way to me. I got to see some family I've not seen in a while, and I got to spend some time with my new brothers to get to know them better. (Yes, let's all acknowledge that it's a little weird, but I suppose there are stranger scenarios in the world.)

While visiting family, my cousins Jadrid and Brennie gave me two pricess quotes of the day, so eat them up while you've got this rare appearance from me!

1. Jadrid, who is 8, was telling us about having seen the movie Step Brothers (his parents had rented it without first screening it for the kiddies....ohhhh, unwise). Apparently, there is a part of the movie where one character accuses the other of putting his man bits on his drum. Jadrid, recounting the line from the movie, said, "I know it was you! You put your pesticles on my drum!" I want to hug him and squeeze him so he never grows up. Pesticles. Heh.

2. Brennie is now 4, and his dad wants people to start calling him by his given name, Brendan, so he'll seem more grown-up or something like that. I don't know. I get it, but at the same time it's like, "Dude, he's 4. If were' still calling him Brennie when he's 14, then that's a problem...but right now I think we've got a free pass until he's 5 or 6." Anyway, so my mom asked Brennie what he thought of the name situation. "Do you want me to call you Brennie or Brendan?" she asked. His reponse, without hesitation: "You can call me Flower if you want to." agh, it makes my uterus hurt.

We returned home to discover that the strange sounds we had been hearing (and trying to ignore) for weeks are, in fact, feral cats living in the crawl space under our house. "Oh, Cor! Just your luck!" you exclaim. To that I respond with a hearty laugh and "I know, right? Allllll in a day's work for the Master Jukemeister." How could such a thing happen, you wonder! How could the cats have access to the crawl space? I'll tell you how.

You see, before we agreed to buy this house, we had the owners fix some ducting in the crawl space. Apparently, their contractor couldn't be bothered putting the access door back on the crawl space entrance, because, you know, mustering up those 5 seconds of effort is exhausting. So since the crawl space door is under the deck, and since we had no reason to go under the deck to check the door (until, of course, we heard cats fighting under our living room floor), we had no reason assume anything was askew down there for the two months it was wide open. Silly, stupid Cor. I sometimes get complacent and forget my mantra: never underestimate the destructive power of one incompetent boob.

So anyway, we've now hired this guy who specializes in humane trap and release methods to catch these cats and get rid of them for us, and so far we've caught two of God knows how many cats. Total cost so far--$200. All because of an asshole who couldn't bother closing a simple crawl space door. *sigh* More on that continuing saga later.