Get your loved one a Pap Smear for Christmas. Just a schmear can save her life!
Shiz.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Give Her a Schmear
Okay, I'm all for taking care of yourselves and going to the doctor for regular check-ups but has anyone else seen the Pap Smear commercials? OhMyGosh!
Shiz.
Shiz.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
How to Solve a Problem Like...
I've been told that it's nearly impossible to know what I will or won't like as far as pop culture goes--that I'm a bit of an enigma. I'd probably agree but mostly because I don't even know how to solve that riddle that is Angie. For instance how do you explain how much I love FNL given how much I dislike the main ingredient? Also, how is it that I L.O.V.E the TV show Glee? On the one hand there's lots of Broadway stuff and I've seen some of the actors on stage. On the other hand the show is completely adorable: cute, quirky and each episode has heart but really, truly, the songs they sing are mostly songs I abhor. Hate: like with the white hot passion of a thousand suns kind of hate. So, how is it that I not only get giddy at the prospect of each episode but also that I buy the music nearly every week and actually bought the Glee CD at the store. Not online like all the other music I own but an actual physical CD. Anyway, thought I'd share but I absolutely adore this show. Love Mr. Schuester. Love Rachel. Love Kurt. Love them all.
Mikey and Ami Sitting in a Tree...
I got the funniest post the other day on Facebook from my friend Ami:
"My parents recently cleaned out their attic and found a love letter from Mikey to me. It was hilarious! I'm not completely convinced that it wasn't a fabrication that you and David came up with to embarrass him. It was steamy!!! Ah...young love."
Mostly I need to check with Dave to see if we did make up the love letter. Dave remembers everything--but I do know for a fact that Mikey was head over heels in love with Ami Jo--or at least as much as you can be when you are a tween.
Good times.
"My parents recently cleaned out their attic and found a love letter from Mikey to me. It was hilarious! I'm not completely convinced that it wasn't a fabrication that you and David came up with to embarrass him. It was steamy!!! Ah...young love."
Mostly I need to check with Dave to see if we did make up the love letter. Dave remembers everything--but I do know for a fact that Mikey was head over heels in love with Ami Jo--or at least as much as you can be when you are a tween.
Good times.
Franky, Mr. Shankly by The Smiths
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul.
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the 21st century breathing down my neck.
I must move fast, you understand me
I want to go down in celluloid history, Mr. Shankly.
Fame, Fame, fatal Fame.
It can play hideous tricks on the brain.
But still I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy, any day.
Any day, any day.
But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled making Christmas cards with the mentally ill.
I want to live and I want to love.
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul.
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask,
You are a flatulent pain in the arse
I do not mean to be so rude.
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly.
Oh, give us your money!
It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul.
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the 21st century breathing down my neck.
I must move fast, you understand me
I want to go down in celluloid history, Mr. Shankly.
Fame, Fame, fatal Fame.
It can play hideous tricks on the brain.
But still I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy, any day.
Any day, any day.
But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled making Christmas cards with the mentally ill.
I want to live and I want to love.
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul.
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly.
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask,
You are a flatulent pain in the arse
I do not mean to be so rude.
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly.
Oh, give us your money!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The Grizwolds
Today is December 3rd and the Grizwolds haven't turned on their special light show. Actually, today when I drove home in the DAYLIGHT (yeah, that hasn't happened in months) I noticed that they weren't even close to being done setting up the disgustingness that they call Christmas. Hmmmm....I wonder if it will happen this year.
Fingers crossed!
Fingers crossed!
Mean People Suck
Today I saw a cashier cry and it wasn't because of me...
So, I'm at Robert's picking up a few things for a friend's birthday and the line is WAY long and mostly full of old people who are delighted to chit chat with the sweet soul running the cash register. She was adorable, probably about 19-20, married, and her husband was studying Biology at UVU and then he was hoping to go to Baylor for grad school. Baylor by the way is in Texas. (I already knew that but I thought I'd add it). She was working at Robert's because well, "May as well make good use of the time...".
Why do I know all of this? Um...because I heard her tell EVERY single customer that went through the line. Well, all except for the Rich Bitch standing in front of me. RB in her obscenely expensive clothes, ridiculously GINORMOUS diamond ring and attitude to boot stood there tapping her foot on the floor, her fingers on the cart, and checking her watch every 16 seconds, finally made her way to the front of the line and then told Sweet Soul that since it was taking so long she was only going to get the one bolt of ribbon and pushed her cart full of crap across the store. As Sweet Soul ran the credit card and they had the following conversation:
SS: This is what takes so long, running the credit cards...
RB: Yeah, that and CHATTING!
SS: I like to chat while I work because people seem to enjoy having someone nice to talk to them.
RB: Grrrrrrrrr. Not everyone!
RB grabs credit card, signs the receipt and runs out of the store. I'll admit that I was thinking mostly the same things but I would NEVER EVER have said anything because the little girl really did mean well and because I've worked retail at a scrapbook store and encountered so many of those women.
Anyway, mostly, I hope the Karma Police stop RB and make her pay for making the sweet cashier cry. And cry she did the entire time she was ringing up my stuff.
So, I'm at Robert's picking up a few things for a friend's birthday and the line is WAY long and mostly full of old people who are delighted to chit chat with the sweet soul running the cash register. She was adorable, probably about 19-20, married, and her husband was studying Biology at UVU and then he was hoping to go to Baylor for grad school. Baylor by the way is in Texas. (I already knew that but I thought I'd add it). She was working at Robert's because well, "May as well make good use of the time...".
Why do I know all of this? Um...because I heard her tell EVERY single customer that went through the line. Well, all except for the Rich Bitch standing in front of me. RB in her obscenely expensive clothes, ridiculously GINORMOUS diamond ring and attitude to boot stood there tapping her foot on the floor, her fingers on the cart, and checking her watch every 16 seconds, finally made her way to the front of the line and then told Sweet Soul that since it was taking so long she was only going to get the one bolt of ribbon and pushed her cart full of crap across the store. As Sweet Soul ran the credit card and they had the following conversation:
SS: This is what takes so long, running the credit cards...
RB: Yeah, that and CHATTING!
SS: I like to chat while I work because people seem to enjoy having someone nice to talk to them.
RB: Grrrrrrrrr. Not everyone!
RB grabs credit card, signs the receipt and runs out of the store. I'll admit that I was thinking mostly the same things but I would NEVER EVER have said anything because the little girl really did mean well and because I've worked retail at a scrapbook store and encountered so many of those women.
Anyway, mostly, I hope the Karma Police stop RB and make her pay for making the sweet cashier cry. And cry she did the entire time she was ringing up my stuff.
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