A little over a week ago, I ran a contest: time for a snack (CONTEST!)
I’ve finally sifted through all of the entries (ok, there were, like, 6 ) and chosen a winner.
Congratulations, Edward Hamlett II! Your entry made me laugh, cry, and never want to eat corn again.
The winning entry:
Damn you Corn
Damn you corn! I don’t get u at times
Do you wanna be HIS chips, HER popcorn, or
one of MY cracker barrel dinner sides
I told you how I loved to nibble your bits
Then you go flattening into chips and
Doing this late night movies in a bucket sh–t
I want you on my cob baby please
but how you swish around different mouths
I don’t wanna be diseased
You better make up your mind
Oh girl you’re such a tease
You know those buttery little niblets make
me weak in the knees
Said she’d would listen to my
pleas and make me happy tonight
You showed up off the cob
again as a piece of nasty bread
Honorable mention goes to Coley and Kendallicious.
Enjoy your candy corn, Edward!
yesterday my boss asked me to return some keys to the hardware store.
(the keys didn’t work).
it…didn’t exactly go as planned.
an excerpt from the note i left her explaining why:
The couple who owns the hardware store were SO RUDE. They wouldn’t take the keys back because they “came with a guarantee.”
I said,”Oh a guarantee that they won’t work? I see…”
They finally agreed to let me return the keys. But not without demanding a receipt.
I said, “What kind of person would keep a receipt for something that is GUARANTEED to work?”
I told them to just forget it, that I didn’t need my money back. As I left the store I could hear them complaining loudly.
“No one accepts returns without a receipt,” the woman said. “Not even K-mart.”
I paused at the door.
I turned to the woman.
“I can hear you,” I said, “And I don’t shop at K-mart.”
It made me wonder what makes people turn so bitter, what makes them be so mean to other people.
I always try to be polite…although it doesn’t always work out…
1. Guarantees aren’t real.
2. Always try to be polite.
3. I still hate hardware stores.
this one time, i had a mountain of dishes to wash.
so i thought to myself, “what can i do to avoid all my adult responsibilities?”
i don’t like tv.
that’s not really an option, anyway.
“OH, i know!! i’ll pretend to be regina spektor! and i’ll record a silly song for this boy. yes! yes, this sounds like a brilliant plan!”
so i recorded this:
i (used to) hate twee
(i still hate twee)
but i hate housework even more.
Earlier tonight a crowd of people gathered around me in a parking lot and asked me to “spit some ill rhymes.”
They said they heard I was a rapper. My friend must have told them that. He would…
They were mostly white kids who looked 12.
I said, “I only freestyle on my own terms.”
Apparently that earned me “cred” & “mad respect”.
I like having those things.
I even got a free pizza.
So maybe I really will become a rapper.
Stranger things have happened.
How was your night?
***Leave a comment telling me your favorite snack.I will randomly (not really. I’ll pick whichever one I deem funniest/best/most original/least gross) choose a winner. Winner receives the snack of his or her choice, courtesy of me.Cannot exceed $10. Contest ends 8/25/2011 at 11pm. Limit one entry per person.***
i was wondering
what is your favorite type of snack?
as long as it’s not pickles from a bag
we should be fine
yeah…we’ll probably get along just fine
(unless you’re just a dick in general)
Some people think they’re pretty tasty
I’ve seen people buy them in line at the gas station and i’m always like, “Ew, nasty”
i secretly judge those people
i just don’t get it
what do they enjoy about the pickles
besides that they’re convenient?
one time i asked the owner of the corner store
what was the target demographic for those
he said mainly truckers.
I recently started working as a personal assistant for a local musician. I can’t comment on her personality because she might read this. Just watch the above clip and it will all make sense.
A sampling of some of my duties:
-booking shows/hanging posters
-cleaning (disgusting) basement
-creating lists of plausible excuses of why she can’t make it to family get-togethers
-scheduling std testing appointments
-serving as personal muse/inspiration for songs
1.I must write Merriam-Webster’s word of the day on the mirror and use it at least 3 times in conversation with my boss.
2.If she sends me a text that she deems funny, I must respond with no less than ten “ha-has”.
3. Must raise my hand and wait to be acknowledged if she is here and I have a question.
But I have a desk now. I feel validated as an adult.
melatonin induced nightmares of men breaking into my house.
i woke up, rolled over, and there, outside of my window, was a man climbing a ladder.
we made brief eye contact as he ascended onto the roof.
(that part was real, not a dream).
so this song was in my head all day.
i live on the bohemian side of town. shouldn’t they know better than to wake us up at 8am?
what was he doing up there, anyway?
it appears we’ve fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole, love.
but i like this dimension far better than the previous one…
i think i’d like to stay awhile.
but only if it’s ok with you…
A stray cat visited me the other night while I was outside gazing at the moon.
“Stranger, can I be of some assistance?” I asked.
The cat responded by rubbing up against my leg and pawing at my screen door.
“Oh, I see. You’re in need of a home.”
The cat stared back at me.
“Wag your tail once for yes and twice for no.”
The cat wagged his tail.
“I’m terribly sorry but I’m afraid I cannot offer you a place to stay. “
The cat laid down at my feet.
“Cat, I must be going. Return tomorrow at 11pm and I will feed you.”
I named him Olliecat.
The next night I waited.
He never came back.