Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
What in the what? Are people insane?
My friend told me about the Chi-Obama on Saturday and I said, "Surely, you gest."
Upon which she replied, "I do not Gest...and don't call me Shirley (shout out to the Leslie Neilson).
The thing that makes me laugh so hard about this is how serious they are about it. I mean, it's a Chia, not a commemorative plate or coin from the Franklin Mint...it's a chunk of pottery, and they are acting like it is a great symbol of our patriotism.
Honestly, I didn't vote for President Obama but this makes me feel sorry for him.
He has been reduced to a "Chia".
I have to say, I do the love the tackiness of it. It just screams "poor taste".
Will you all be getting one of these as your gift from me this year?
Monday, November 29, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
As you watch the attached video, here are some awesome things to look for:
1-The "Macarena" in a Snuggie. Really friends?
2-Friends is it normal for a couple to hula-hoop and juggle in the bedroom? If so, you need to see a marriage counselor, ASAP.
3-Watch the couple spooning on the couch. The guy catches a piece of popcorn in his mouth and then gets all up in his wife's face about it. In real life wouldn't you just smack him?
4-I love that his wife does the "rapid gunfighter" move with her fingers when she wins her husband at...that's right...Jenga. You gots some made skills, sister!
5- And last but definitely not least, is the man "raising the roof" at the tail end of the commercial. First off, are we really still doing that? That was sooooo 10 years ago.
And secondly, he doesn't even do it right. "You just pump your arms buddy, not your whole body."
I am warning you, it's painful to watch.
People are always asking me, "Rob what is the difference between a Snuggie vs a Slanket?"
And I always say, "Better commercials."
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
What can I say, we have great taste.
(Forgive the pose. We both look like we are going to our office sponsored Sadie Hawkins dance.)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
I guess I pay homage to Eric Snider because his style of writing, as the German says to Marin Short in the hit movie "The Three Amigos", has Inschpired me.
If you have minute, or twenty you might want to browse around his past writings. My favorites are his "Declined Twilight Screenplays", good laughs.
So without further adieu, I give you Mr. Eric Snider, (pause...wait for applause)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Every year, English teachers from across the country can submit their collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays.
These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers.
Here are last year's winners.....
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Do you ever watch “The Brady Bunch” after work?
And after watching the jam cook off with Alice and Mrs. Brady, you are troubled with the square brink opening in the kitchen, next to the double ovens.
What is that thing?
I feel like I have watched every episode and never at anytime has that hollow brink square been addressed. And as an avid watcher I feel like I need answers Mike Brady. You are the one who designed this house, so spill it!
What is that thing? Is it some sort of “dumb waiter”? And if so why haven’t the Brady children been using that to get to the bedrooms instead of climbing all those pesky stairs? Especially “older Greg” because his bedroom is all the way up in the attic and he could use a lift.
I can’t even enjoy a complete episode anymore because I am so fixated on trying to figure out what that thing is.
Can anyone help me out on this?
Thursday, July 22, 2010
So here is something that made me laugh today...
So in honor of Pioneer Day I told my co-workers that we should all dress up like cowboys tomorrow. But I gave them a stern warning that no one should wear their “Daisy Duke” shorts or they would get in trouble.
Then one of my co-worker asked, “Oh "Daisy Dukes" shorts, like the girl from “The Dukes of Hazzard" wore? What was her name again?”
And I’m all, “Um...Daisy Duke.”
And then we all laughed at her until she started crying.
Highlight of my day.
"Come on baby, kick them Daises"
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Are you ever amazed at your body’s fight or flight reactions? Mine are so weird.
Every time I go see a scary movie I am baffled by what my body does instinctually when confronted with fear.
As I am watching a movie and someone in the movie is walking done a dark hallway, and I know at any second a monster is going to jump out and kill them, here is what my body does: My legs pull up to my chest, followed by my pointer fingers inserting themselves into my ears, while the rest of my hands extend over my eyes, but not really covering my eyes completely, they do more like a “jazz hands” thing, so I can still see what is about to happen.
And then once the monster does jumps out to kill the person walking down the hallway, my body lets out an audible gasp. I am not talking about a quick breath inward; I am talking about a full on sound of a vacuum cleaner gasping, it is loud and usually causes a few stares. I honestly have been known to suck up pieces of popcorn and candy from the person sitting in front of me. It’s that powerful.
And then for some odd reason my legs jet forward, while my arms fly out to my side. I have injured the person next to me multiple times, and have launched the person in front of me out of their seat.
I am not sure what my body thinks it is accomplishing when it does all these things, but I worry that if a monster sneaks into my house to kill me, my first response is going to be me in the fetal position, with my hands covering my eyes, taking in huge breaths, and flailing my limbs every which way.
I could be wrong, but I don’t know if that is really going to help me survive the attack, do you?
Monday, July 12, 2010
Well friends Saturday was the big recital. I can’t tell you how nervous I was. I dreaded it all day long.
I really considered purposely getting into a car accident so I wouldn’t have to go. And the beauty of it is that when my voice teacher asked why I didn’t show up, I could just say, “I would have loved to have come, but you know I got in a car accident”.
I kept thinking about all the terrible things that could go wrong while singing, like forgetting the words to the song like my friend John Dakers did at his recital, passing out, or getting explosive diarrhea when I hit my really high note.
Lately, I have struggle with voice lessons because I really haven’t felt like I sound anything like I have wanted to, a mixture of Josh Groban, Axel Rose, and the BYU Young Ambassadors. I just sound like boring Robierto from the block, and who would want to listen to that?
Well I sang my song and I don’t really know how it went because I kind of zoned out during my entire song. All I know is that no one walked out, booed, or got explosive diarrhea when I hit my high note.
Sadly, I didn’t invite anyone I knew to my recital because I was pretty sure they would have given me the oligatory “Good job” and “You are my favorite singer besides Axel Rose”. But afterwards I felt like I needed someone to rate me, judge me, or tell me how I did. Where is that Simon Cowell when you need him?
Afterwards I walked dejectedly out to my car unsure of how I did, unsure if I really wanted to continue talking voice lessons, and felt downright scared I just didn’t do very well.
But as I waked toward my car a man grabbed my arm and said, “You did a good job in there.”
Sometimes I appreciate a perfect stranger giving me a compliment because you know they wouldn’t say anything unless they actually feel like it was warranted.
As I drove home singing “Pour Some Sugar on Me” I was grateful for this man who inspired me to continue on my journey of developing my talents. Thanks stinky homeless man, for your kindness has made all the difference.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
So I have been taking voice lessons for the last year. I have to say, I am not the most confident of singers in the world. In fact, singing in a small room, with one person who critiques everything about the way you sing is a little unnerving.
I know I am not the best singer in the world and there have been moments that I have wanted to quit because I can’t hear that I am really improving. But my voice teacher tells me things like, “You are doing great!”, “You sing like a young Justin Bieber” and “You really made that song your own” so I have kept at it, because obviously she is seeing something I am not.
So this week I arrived early to my voice lessons because I didn’t need the usual positive self-talk session that I require before each voice lesson (I usually have to sit in my car, look at myself in my rear view mirror and talk calming words to my inner child so I can make it through the next half hour singing my guts out, while sweating buckets).
So as I sat outside my voice teacher’s studio door I listened to the last part of the girl who has voice lessons before me. She was singing a song that I didn’t recognize, but after listening to the lyrics I realized it was a Taylor Swift song, which I liked until I heard her sing it. Bless her heart, she couldn’t hit a right note if there was only one key on a piano. It was painful to listen to, but she sang with such vigor that I had to admire her courage to sing that way in front of an actual human being.
After she finished her off key rendition of the massacred Taylor Swift song, I was anxious to hear what my voice teacher would say to her. And here are the words that fell from her lips, “You are doing great!” “You sing like a young Taylor Swift”, and “You made that song your own”.
I sat there in shock. These are the same words she says to me almost weekly. Was I the male version of this young girl? Do I sound so bad that the only way she can get her “short bus” vocal student to come back is by stroking their already fragile singing egos? How dare she turn her vocal studio into a den of lies!
Needless to say, the whole experience has left me a little uneasy about my recital on Saturday.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Sometimes a YouTube video comes along that just needs to be shared.
Cowboy Hip-Hop. This new dance craze has got me straight up trippin’ boo!
A couple of things to look for:
· I love the out fits of all the dancers but especially the really tall lady with the shoulders missing from her shirt, Heidi I think her name is, and the lead dancer with spandex short underneath her denim shorts. That’s hot.
· The introduction of her backup dancers is very memorable but watch specifically for the sweet moves coming from Heidi and Jaime. Priceless.
· Painful moments: When she says “That’s Jammin’”, the "Country Running Man", and the variation on the "Rodger Rabbit". Wow, hard to watch, but well worth it if you can stick it out.I wonder why country hip hop never caught on?
I will say that on “So You Think You Can Dance?” this year, someone actually tried out doing country hip-hop…he was cut within 10 seconds of his dance.
Now that’s Jammin’!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Do you ever overestimate your athletic ability? You have run a marathon, triathlon, and won the two legged race at your office picnic this year, so when your friend invites you to run a 5k you think to yourself, “Honestly how hard can this be?”
Actually pretty hard.
Did I mention I haven’t run for, oh I don’t know, six months or so? And I am still running in the same shoes from last year. And I was feeling gassy the morning of? But all these things notwithstanding I am an athlete, my body will automatically snap right back into the groove once that gun goes off. Right?
Let me also pause here to say that at this same race last year I placed first in my age division, so really I came into the race with a certain expectation of me winning yet again. But alas, who could have anticipated how events would unfold that would affect me in a deep in a profound way throughout the remainder of the race.
So for whatever reason I couldn’t find the start of the race. I am driving around hoping they will wait until I arrive, because I won last year, and it ain’t no party, unless it’s a Rob Abney party. Am I RIGHT?
I pull in right when the gun went off to start the race. So I jumped out of my car, trying to take off my sweat pants while running at the same time. So I couldn’t get them over my shoes but I just keep running with them down around my knees.
I really need to purchase some “pull away” sweat pants like they have in the NBA or at a local strip club, because I am afraid I looked really stupid.
So I am running a long, and feel like I am running in slow motion, in fact I might as well have been running backwards with how slow I was going. Everyone else was passing by me so quickly and I just needed to stop and take a little breather until my second wind kicked in. It never came, so I decided to take a short break at the 1 mile mark where they were serving water to get my head back in the game. Well, 30 minutes later and after a refreshing 15 cups of water I continued on.
I finished the race with a time of 60 minutes. Yep, I ran about a 20 minute mile, a very nice clip if I may say so.
Needless, to say I didn’t win this year. In fact, I think I came in last, well not dead last, one of my friends accidently went the wrong way and ended up running the 10K.
So the take away lesson from this experience friends is never put your confidence in last year’s win…and don’t show up late…and always wear “tear away” sweats.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Have any of you seen this little cutie at your local KFC? It’s called the “double down” and friends you all need to go try it. My life was made better by making this purchase the other day.
I can’t put it into words so I will let KFC describe what it is:
The new KFC Double Down sandwich is real! This one-of-a-kind sandwich features two thick and juicy boneless white meat chicken filets (Original Recipe® or Grilled), two pieces of bacon, two melted slices of Monterey Jack and pepper jack cheese and Colonel's Sauce. This product is so meaty, there’s no room for a bun!
Frankly friends, I'm a little worried about the future of bread. Why have we waited so long to have chicken fillets hold our sandwich contents together? They are delicious and nutritious, and with the Colonel’s original recipe it has the potential to make my PB and J that much better. Am I right?
I double dare you to go try it.
Don't think about, just do it.
Your heart will thank you.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
What is it about that “PEOPLE” magazine, huh?
You see it at the store and classify it as scandalous.
You see it in your neighbor’s home don’t you think less of them for buying that trash?
But when you are at doctor’s office, what is the first magazine you reach for?
Inevitably it’s the “PEOPLE” magazine, am I right?
And you aren’t just skimming through it either. You are voraciously looking at every picture and caption about those “Twilight” kids (those kids are so Hot right now).
What is it about the security of the doctor’s office that makes us so bold to read “PEOPLE”?
It’s hard to say. All I know is, yesterday when the doctor called me back into his office I told him that he was going to have to wait a couple of minutes because I really needed to know who the 100 most beautiful people were.
He laughed, and told me to come back now or I could find another Dr.
But the interesting thing was, when I walked into the examination room, guess what he was thumbing through? A “PEOPLE” magazine.
Yep, there is something about the Dr.’s office that gives all of us, including the Dr., the permission to look at trash unabashedly.
And for that I am grateful.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Do you ever wish that you were braver then you actually were and you could say the things that you are really thinking instead of hiding behind political correctness or being nice?
I do that a lot. Sometimes I sit and think of cleaver things that I wish I would have said in certain situations. I think this is why I usually only get six hours of sleep each night.
So I share them now with you, hoping that amongst my readers there are at least two of you who are heartless and could use these in your every day conversations.
1- “Unclean!” To be shouted from your bathroom stall when you know the person that was next to you a few moments ago didn’t wash their hands.
2- “Hey, baby your too beautiful to smoke.” To be said whenever you pull up next to a lady who is smoking in a convertible. Oh, and you need to say this like Barry White.
3- “Umm, yeah, buddy, I don’t know if you are aware, but, uh, YOUR CAR IS ON FIRE!” To be shouted to anyone who has a muffler that is pumping out more smoke than exhaust.
4- “Ah, sir you dropped this, and I am pretty sure you meant to put it in the proper receptacle”. To be said to anyone who flicks there ciggie on the sidewalk or out their car window.
5- “I have no response to that” To be said after someone comments in your Sunday School class after a twenty minute tangent about something that has nothing to do with your lesson.
6- “Oh, grow a set” To be said whenever anyone complains about something I ask them to do, like massage my feet.
7- “I don’t know who you are, or where you come from. But from now on, you will do as I tell you. OK?” To be said to any child who gives me back talk.
8- “Oh really? Well then you don’t know how to “kid” properly, because we both should be laughing.” To be said whenever anyone gives me a backhanded compliment, and then follows it up with “I’m only kiddin”.
9- “Are you crying? Really? Oh my…are you really crying?" To be said whenever anyone cries over a Nicholas Sparks movie.
10 “Your words are like fists. So please keep your hands to yourself.” To be said whenever anyone says my sexual harassment presentation was boring.
Take them for what their worth. And let me know if they gave you any satisfaction saying them aloud.
Monday, June 14, 2010
- Unless you are a women and have a formal gathering you need to get to, and your only means of transportation to said formal gathering is your bicycle or unicycle, you are forbade from the wearing of culottes.
- Unless you are a women and have a rockin' cello solo in your town symphony orchestra concert, and you have to steady your cello with your knees and look formal at the same time , you are forbade from wearing culottes.
- Unless you are a female martial artist who rode your bicycle to a formal dinner, where you were playing your cello and you were attacked by some ninjas, and you were concerned about modesty when you did your "high kicks",...you are forbade from the wearing of the culottes.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
So I went shopping yesterday and had to try something on? And when I found the dressing room I realized that it wasn’t tucked in the back somewhere, where you would think it should be, but it was in the middle of the store. That’s correct, right next to where people were picking out a new pair of Khaki’s was the place where I was expected to disrobe and try on items.
Isn’t there something so exposing about being in a dressing room? It is designed not to be, but friends, until stores make dressing room doors that reach the top of the ceiling, and all the way to the bottom of the floor, how can we be at peace in that tiny little box of a room?
And it doesn’t help that they install these doors that are the size of those you might find in an old west saloon for coverage. Who are they kidding with those? They provide no protection against prying eyes.
And to make matters worse I am extremely tall, so those doors on the dressing room are really covering, at best, up to my navel. So if I am trying on a shirt, I really have to squat, which is never an attractive look for a man, so I can be somewhat modest by covering up my upper body.
And I can’t help but feel kind of like a burlesque dancer in there, except not as confident? I am showing various limbs above the door and dropping clothing on the floor. So if any pervert is watching, they could be getting quite a show.
So instead of giving fellow customers the satisfaction, I ended up squatting, and crouching on the chair in the dressing room so I could hide my entire body behind those puny doors.
And then inevitably you always have that one stray kid who has wondered away from his mother who is in the next stall doing the “squat and crouch” on her chair. And he decides to sneak away and stick his head underneath your stall to say “hello”. Which causes you to lose your footing and you slip off you chair onto the floor in your underpants, where everyone can see you struggling on the floor.
And women wonder why men don’t love to shop.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Helpful Hint #1-
For all my Gen X-er friends out there who think it is so “awesome” to have your favorite music playing when I am waiting for you to pick up your phone, let me just clue you in on a little something. Unless the music on your phone is classical music or possibly a good John Denver ballad, take it off ASAP.
I can’t tell you how many times I have sat waiting for someone to pick up their phone while their favorite Mega Death/Slayer mix is blaring in my ear. Friends, it makes me not want to hire you.
Helpful Hint #2-
Never have one of those phone messages that goes a little something like this, “Hello…(and then I start into my conversation, which goes on until I hear…) Oh, sorry I am not home. Leave me a message….”
It makes me feel stupid. I don’t like it. It makes me not want to hire you.
Helpful Hint #3-
When I ask for your email on your application and you put your handle as, Copkiller@yahoo.com, Bigpimpin@gmail.com, and my personal favorite, email@example.com it doesn’t look good. And worse than that friend, it makes me blush, in so much, that I don’t want to hire you.
Helpful Hint #4-
When I bring you in for your interview, and I ask you why you think you would be qualified for this position in law enforcement, and you say, “Well I just got out of a regional treatment center and know the inner workings of a lockdown facility.”, I have to pause…because I don’t even know how to respond to your answer. Sure it makes me want to cry, but sweet friend, it makes me not want to hire you.
It is a tough market out there, and I want to hire my Gen X friends.
So using terminology that they will understand, “Pull your heads out, and stop being such tools!”
FYI, all these experiences are too real I am afraid.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Do you ever go over ta' the Wal-Mart to do some “roll-back” shoppin'”? It is my least favorite activity of the entire week, but you have to eat, so you go and crack it out.
So last night almongst the bitter grapes in the Wal-mart produce aisle I ran into my neighbor, who I know sort of, but not really. So we just made idle chit-chat and shared some obligatory pleasentries, and then I finished with, “It was good talking to you. I will see you later.”
But as I was walking down the next aisle, who did I see? My neighbor walking towards me. I didn’t realize that when I said I would see him later it would be two seconds later.
What do you say? It’s not like I hated the guy but I had already finished up our last conversation and I didn’t have any fresh new material to talk to him about. So I just said the first thing that popped into my head,
“Heeeeeey neighbor. Didn’t I just see you? Ha-ha! Alright we’ll talk to you later.”
And then I quickly got out of there, and moved three aisles ahead of him so this awkwardness wouldn’t continue.
So, there I was in the toilet paper aisle, squeezing me some Charmin Ultra (which, by the way, if you haven’t tried it, is a little piece of heaven on your blind side) when I run into my neighbor again. So, my heart is pounding and I just want to run the opposite way with my cart. But I am a grown up, so through a strained smile, I do the pretend “punch in the stomach” and say, “I keep running into you!”. And then I bolt with my cart and run five aisles ahead of him.
I don’t know if we had identical shopping lists but I sware I ran into him like three more times. So by the fifth "run in", the situation has gotten so awkward, that when we saw each other heading down the same aisle toward each other we didn't even make eye contact, and pretended we were complete strangers, even though we are trying to figure out the social etiquette to alleviate these awkward feelings we both were experiencing.
So I finally, I had to actually take a time out because the whole situation has gotten out of control. I actually hid in a clothing rack until I could see he was finished with his shopping, so I could finish mine.
And I just want to say here, my neighbor isn’t a bad person, he is good people, but it’s the situation that is so awkward. It’s talking to someone, actually giving them a farewell or a “we should get together for lunch” and then rounding the corner and seeing them again…and again…and again.
Why is that so awkward? I am not sure, but it usually sends my feelings of social anxiety through the roof!
So finally, I get my shopping done, drive home, pull into my parking stall and start unloading my groceries, and you’ll never believe who pulled in right next to me.
(dedicated to Molly-Noooo)
(dedicated to Molly-Noooo)
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Spring is in the air friends, and as such people are falling in love and getting married.
What does that means for you and I? It means a whole boat load of receptions we get to attend. Hooray (with my voice going doing at the end).
And oh that dreaded reception line. I really don’t mind receptions so much, but oh that line!
So I was at my cousins wedding over the weekend and stood in the line waiting for my turn to give my congratulations to the happy couple. May be I have a touch of social anxiety because talking to perfect strangers in a reception line makes me terribly uncomfortable. So I planned a head and wrote down some potential conversation starters on 3x5 cards just in case I ran out of things to say.
The line was moving so smoothly. I stopped and talked to my aunt and uncle, and then moved to the groom’s parents, who I didn’t know. I shook their hands and said the obligatory “congratulations” and “so nice to meet you” and didn’t even have to whip out my 3x5 cards. And that’s when the line came to a total and complete stand still.
So now what? I had already discussed with the groom’s parents all the wedding pleasantries that I knew. What could I have talked about now? The rainforest, global warming, the cast of Jersey Shore. Were these appropriate conversations to have in a reception line? It's hard to say.
So there we stood in absolute silence, smiling…looking at each other…looking down…looking back at each other…smiling, praying that one of us could come up with something to talk about…but nothing. So we went back to smiling…looking down…etc.
After a while they got tired of me, so they just turned and talked to each other. I was left standing there feeling like I was invading their privacy, and almost said, “Hey, guys what you talking about?”.
So ten minutes later I was still standing there, sweating, and about ready to have an anxiety attack. In my mind I just swore at the guy in front of me and pleaded with him to please stop talking, so the line could start moving and I could get out of this dangerously awkward situation
And just at the point I almost reached over and pushed this talkative "friend" into the wedding cake, my good cousin told him that they needed to keep the line moving. Ah, sweet relief!
So I looked at the Grooms parents, smiled and said, “It was an absolute pleasure talking to you both.”
I think I am going to start bringing Boggle with me to receptions just in case the line stalls again. That way the groom’s parents and I can play a quick round, as opposed to all that loud awkward silence.
Monday, May 3, 2010
So yesterday I went to get my hair cut, down to “Hair-a-dise City”.
I was in a desperate need of a crew cut, stat.
So I showed up only to realize that there were four other guys also in need a solid crew cut to start spring, so I braced myself for a wait.
As I was waiting for my “crew” to be “cut”, one of the ladies, who was cutting a little girls hair at the time, received a phone call, so naturally I eavesdropped on her conversation.
I couldn’t really hear the whole conversation over the cutting shears, but here is the jest of her conversation:
“Hello, this is Hair-a-dise City, where the grass is green and your hair is pretty. How may I help you?”
And that’s when the tears started. I don't know what was said on the other side of that phone but this girl didn't get “misty”, we are talking full on tears, with little gasps in between them.
So, all five of us reacted as most men do when a female cries, fained like we were a sleep or acted like we were intently texting someone.
To my surprise, after she hung up the phone, still sobbing, she just went right back to cutting this little girl’s hair. The little girl and her father didn’t know what to make of this, so all us at "Hair-a-dise City" were silent except for her occasional sniffles.
Now what is right thing to do here friends?
Should I go take the shears out of her hand, and hold her?
Should I try to cut this young girl’s hair and go tell this sweet sister to go lie down with a cold compress?
Well, someone had to do something because can you imagine what kind of a haircut she would give if those were angry tears streaming down her face?
And now days later, I can verify that those were angry tears she was crying, as per my terrible haircut.
I feel I can only blame myself.
Why are men programmed to become socially retarded when women start crying? It's hard to say.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Do you every become a fan of a TV show or movie and worry that you are getting dangerously close to crossing over the line into terminal fanaticism?
That is how I feel about the TV show LOST. I know I shouldn’t love it as much as a do, but heaven help me, I do. And sometimes I worry that I may be slowly crossing a line over into one of those weird fans that normal people start distancing themselves from.
But luckily for me, I have seen that line and I know what it means to “cross over” into absolute fanaticism. I would like to illustrate with a story, if I may…
Picture it, Provo Utah, a month before StarWars: The Phantom Menace was to open. My roommate and I were obsessed with all things StarWars. Any magazine article that even mentioned “StarsWars” we had to buy it. Any food item that was pressed into StarWars characters we had to eat it. I think we watched the StarsWars movie trailer over a thousand times. But how could we help it? We had waited our whole lives for George Lucas to come clean on his promise to make the prequels to our favorite movies (Let me pause hear to say how disappointed we were after we actually saw the prequels). How could we not be excited?
So one day my roommate came home and said that we should go camp outside the movie theater for a month so we could be the first people in Utah to see Episode I. I was a little reluctant at first, but we filled my backpack with StarWars fruit snacks, and granola bars (why we thought this would sustain us for a month I will never know) grabbed our sleeping bags and headed to the movie theater.
As we pulled into the movie theatre our excitement was quickly silenced by what we saw immediately ahead of us. What we saw friends, and prepare yourselves for this, was a “StarWars Shanty Town”. That’s right, tarps and tents filled with StarWars fans that we would be spending the month with.
Here are some the highlights of what we saw: two young padawan learners who were having an intense lightsaber battle with plastic swords, a grown man putting on Darth Maul make-up, and my personal favorite, the man reading a StarWars comic in a Queen Amadala blow up chair.
We sat in silence for a minute, looked at the mess before us, and then I said, “Sooooooo, you, ah…wanna head home?”
“Yeeeaahhhh” my roommate said slowly, “Leeetttt’ssss head home.”
So my friends, that story always serves as a powerful reminder to me as to what it means to, “cross the line” in regards to crazy fanaticism.
I bring this up because I may, or may not have created a LOST “smoke monster” costume out of a grey leotard, cotton balls and a mobile fog machine.
Have I crossed the line? It’s hard to say.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Yesterday during stake conference I saw my first Apple IPAD sighting. I must say it was quite impressive. I don’t think anyone around this good brother holding his IPAD got anything out of stake conference because all eyes were on this amazingly large gadget.
Now there are definitely going to be some draw backs to bringing your IPAD to church. The first, and obvious one, is that no one is going to be paying attention to any lesson or speaker because everyone will watching you diddling on your Ipad. They could announce the second coming over the pulpit and no one would even know because everyone around you would be so enthralled with the amazing functionality and bright colors of your high-tech machinery.
Secondly, remember how back in the day when you would bring you IPHONE to church and instead of using it to follow along in the lesson, you could check sport scores and play solitaire during priesthood? And so long as you nodded your head ponderously and looked heavenward every so often, no one was the wiser.
Well, with this new IPAD those days are long since over. You might as well be playing solitaire on a billboard than be playing it on your IPAD, because friends we can all see exactly what you are doing 50 feet away.
So the first time we see you check scores, play solitaire, or watch a movie during church, I am afraid I am going to have to confiscate your IPAD.
As Uncle Ben said, “With great power comes great responsibility.”
Promise me good brother; you will only use your IPAD for good.