Tag Archives: guilty pleasure

Oh, Snap

This is a post I wrote many moons ago and never published. Its alternate title is Filler Post #198 So Jules Can Get To Her 200th Blog Post This Week. I respect you too much to lie about this.

There is something endlessly appealing about the rock star dream. The thing is, we can’t all be Justin Biebers and Selena Gomezes. The rest of us get to pay $12 a month to secretly screech ourselves hoarse on SingSnap, playing back the audio as we bemoan the injustice of our pitchiness and lackluster tone.

Yes. I’m talking about a karaoke website. And it’s one of my all-time favorite guilty pleasures. I’ve subscribed for several years, and show no signs of stopping. In fact, they recently ran a great deal and I signed up for a whole year.

I’ve always had the good sense to keep this hobby to myself, but often wonder how many skills and blessings I would gladly give up for the gift of the golden voice. Oh, to successfully sing a run, or master Whitney Houston!

First Husband getting his sing on.

It’s no surprise, then, that both my best friend and First Husband are talented musicians/singers, and that I’ve religiously watched American Idol since its inception. I’ve seen Glee live in concert. Twice. I even have my favorite amateur singers on YouTube. (I totally own the bragging rights of, “I subscribed to Alyssa Bernal when she was still just hchsknights08.”)

Because it doesn’t really matter how much you practice, or how badly you want it, I’ve set my sights on other goals. Like getting maintaining my Project Management Professional (PMP) certification. And baking. You should try my carrot cake, it’s really filling.

I mean, fulfilling.

I made this. It’s carrot cake.

What’s your rock star dream? You know, the thing you wish you could do but are pretty sure unicorns would cry if you did?

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Why I’m a Terrible Wife

Yesterday at 8am I found myself driving to the closest drug store. Giggling.

Peppermeister had a bout of…well, he had an upset stomach, and it was all my fault.

Back in our uber blonde days, I only laughed at him when he fell during band performances.

The previous night, I’d convinced us both that getting food from Sonic, a fast-food chain where you park and order old-school style, was a really good idea. Never mind that we’d recently eaten at a post-baptism party*, and that normally trans fat is about as appealing to me as watching 30-year-old men play video games in their parents’ basement.

On Saturday, Sonic cheese tots seemed absolutely necessary. It might have been the after effects of the heroin cough suppressants talking. (If you’re doubting my commitment to the guilty pleasure-ful life, know that I indulge in bacon and butter in a way that would make the Two Fat Ladies proud. It’s all-natural fat… Okay. *sigh* Sometimes White Castle just RULES.)

We perused the unfamiliar menu on our lap tops. Peppermeister fixated on the Sonic Blast shake, which was vanilla ice cream mixed with candy bar bits. He wanted Snickers.

What I’m trying to say is it was big.

When he returned home with the “food,” I couldn’t see him behind the cup in his hand. Picture the Duggar family lined up side by side, and all their cousins stacked on top.

“It’s got to be a whole gallon of ice cream,” I marveled in the way people marvel at puppeteers and Charlie Sheen.

“I know!” Peppermeister replied gleefully as he dug in. Between his only two options, medium and large, he was confident he’d made the right shake-size decision.

My own super-sized cheese tots were less than satisfying, despite the promising heat-saving foil sleeve they came wrapped in. Melted American cheese slices covered the tots, as opposed to the globs of glow-in-the-dark Cheez product I was looking forward to.

We passed out watching the only unseen episode of Modern Family we had left (you chipmunks were right. That show is the shiz!).

I woke up several times during the night to down large glasses of water. The amount of salt in my meal rivaled the Dead Sea. My lips are still wrinkled.

Peppermeister faced a far worse fate. I witnessed a true guilty pleasure overdose.

“C’mon, Uncle Jesse!” I called to the dog in the morning, loudly enough for Peppermeister to hear. “We’ve got to go get daddy some more ice cream!”

Giggling during the ride to Rite Aid, I immediately realized I was a terrible wife. But I couldn’t stop picturing that giant cup and his utter delight as he devoured the shake, and maybe you just never get too old for potty humor.

If you’re expecting that I learned some kind of lesson as a result of this ‘terrible wife’ revelation, you should probably know that while Peppermeister moaned beneath the heating pad, I suppressed laughter and wrote this post.

What regret looks like. (That’s a full-size bottle of water! …Okay. It’s not. But still. Don’t even think about trying to tackle this shake without a well-stocked medicine cabinet.)

Have you ever laughed when you shouldn’t have?

*filed under: Things I’m Not Allowed to Blog About.

Photo Credit (Duggar Family) – tlc.com

The Greatest Thank You Note of All-Time

Dearest Loved Ones,

While I know it is usually you who expresses gratitude to me, for bringing such light and laughter to your dreary lives [filled with not loving chipmunks and eating calorie-conscious meals], let us take this time to acknowledge my appreciation for all you do to appease me, especially on my birthday.

To my husband, Peppermeister, with your unparalleled taste in spouses: You took it upon yourself to hire a man to put us in a basket tied to a balloon as a “gift.” Even though they have absolutely no control over where the basket will go, or land, I know this is your way of saying that our love will forever defy the odds. And not at all that you want to kill me.

By the way, GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelets double as balloon weights. You're welcome.

To my wonderful mother, Babs, who finally got it right with her third child: You made a beautiful photo album, capturing the last 30 29+ years of my enviable life, because you felt visitors were not jealous enough of my current coffee table book, The Pop-Up Book of Phobias. Without your loving and watchful eye, these visitors might have left my home feeling like they had the upper hand – all because I serve White Castle and haven’t cleaned behind the TV in two years!

"I despise math, history bores me..."

To my genius father who still has all of his hair: I am willing to overlook those disturbing quotes from my college application essay that you included in the above album. I know that dredging up embarrassing memories is your way of trying to make your other children feel a little better about being constantly overlooked. You always try to be fair that way, even though it’s hopeless.

To my insane triathlon-competing sister: Thank you for wearing the dress I loaned you four months ago to my birthday dinner; you looked really great in it. It’s clear you wanted everyone to see what impeccable style I have, and I’m not jealous at all. But you should know that that one will be out of fashion soon, so you should just give it back. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.

To my adorable niece and nephew, who take after their aunt in looks: Thank you for giving me hope that someone I know will eventually join a glee club based on his top-notch jazz hands, thus exponentially increasing my chances of meeting Second Husband, Darren Criss. Also thank you for believing I’m famous because I refer to my “blog” as “a super popular website.”

To my completely normal and nice in-laws: I’m forever delighted by the ability of our families to get together without fights, tears or backhanded compliments. It’s like I didn’t even steal your only son away from you. Oh and that gift card is pretty sweet, too. Keep those coming.

To my best friend, Jenn: No one gets me like you do. Except for that guy who makes my egg sandwiches and puts way more cheese on them than is remotely appropriate. No, no one gets me like you do. And no one gets me flowers except you, either. Actually, that’s kind of a problem. Let’s talk about how to fix that the next time we get together.

I love that you love me, family and friends. Clearly loving me so much has made all of you better people.

But don’t worry about thanking me for that yet. Christmas is just around the corner.

Love always, or until all that champagne you got me runs out,

Jules

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

What’s the most guilty pleasure-ful gift you’ve ever gotten?

What Lent Means to Me

Why, it means a favorite guilty pleasure is back (the song, not the sandwich)!

Happy Friday!!!

If you think this post is lame, did you ever consider that I’m busy saving the world preparing my 1-year anniversary post for Feb. 26th?

What’s the hardest thing (food, habit, etc.) you’ve ever had to give up? If you would like me to start eating/doing more of that thing on your behalf during these times of deprivation (for you), please let me know. I live to serve.

Guiltiest Pleasures of 2012 (So Far)

It’s only February, and already I’m bursting at the seams with guilty pleasures, some new, some old. I can’t contain it any longer, so I’m just going to spew them out all over this post. I mean, delicately list them on this delightful blog with the most fetching of phrases.

#1 – Reflective Gear: Lead Me to the Light!

Yeah. It’s my new thing. Of course, there’s the obvious:

GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelets are finding happy homes all across the WORLD!

And then the not so obvious (thanks, Babs!):

Because loving Glee and side ponies didn't make me cool enough. Now I can walk Uncle Jesse after work in true style.

#2 – Uncle Jesse‘s Famous Head Tilt: He’s All Bark, No Bite!

This one really needs no introduction. (Advance apologies for my ‘puppy voice.’) And yes, the whole family loves The Office.

#3 – Mac Photo Booth Application: So Wrong, It’s Right!

I am truly ashamed of the level of vanity my Mac Photo Booth application inspires (yes, these pictures are all linked to actual blog posts of mine…sigh).

It makes me want to show off my waterproof mascara...

...And let's not forget my very first romance novel cover...

...I've toasted to myself...

...And I've shamelessly embraced being a bottled blonde.

#4 – Real Haircuts: Why, I Just Might.

My vanity knows no bounds. After taking Uncle Jesse for a routine (and costly!) visit to the groomer’s last week, I decided that the time had come to stop cutting and dying my own hair. Hallelujah!

Why should he be the only one who looks touchably soft?

BEFORE.

AFTER.

Oh crud. Is it still long enough for a side pony?

#5 – Hats: Rocking Them Day and Night!

This is a vintage guilty pleasure for me, and this past weekend, I started recruiting a whole new generation.

My niece has my eye for fashion. She picked out my sunglasses. I told her they were perfect for hiding my hangover. (Kidding, Sis. ...Just...kidding...)

 What’s your guiltiest pleasure of 2012 (so far)? If you’re feeling shy: how much do you love my new haircut?

Slap Bracelets Comeback – Part 2!

Ohhhh myyyyyy goodnesssss. That’s how I feel right now, Chipper Chipmunks. Like Kristen Wiig in one of those surprise party skits on Saturday Night Live.

I can’t even stand it.

For anyone stumbling across this blog for the first time, what you’re about to see are some pictures of my adoring fans beloved readers wearing GoGuiltyPleasure slap bracelets. I’m posting the pictures in installments (here’s the first round), based on when they were received.

These photos are going to blow your mind. There’s a bulldog, CHIPMUNKS, an adorable child AND…a big reveal!!! Holy stromboli. I hope you’re sitting down.

#1 – Meet Mickey!

You hear me talk about my bestie, Jenn, now and then, but you’ve never heard about Jenn’s brother’s dog, Mickey, which is a real shame. Mickey knows all about how to embrace the guilty pleasure-ful life. For starters, he dines on gourmet meals and usually gets the best seat in the house. (Sounds like another dog I know…) You’re my hero, Mickey!

He is wearing a BLONDE WIG! In my honor!

This is bad(a*s) to the BONE!

If you don't think this is amazing, I feel sorry for you.

#2 – The Byronic Man’s BIG REVEAL!

I know I just said my best friend’s name is Jenn, but The Byronic Man and I are totally B.F.F.s too. It might be that we get along so well because I know where he lives and he has to be nice to me, or maybe it’s simply because he’s just so g.d. hilarious. If you haven’t read his recent post written from the perspective of Gary the bee, stop right now and as soon as you’re done reading MY blog, click here.

Now, if you have been following The Byronic Man’s blog, you know his gravatar (profile image) and blog header photos are mysterious, showing only half of his face. Well, Byronic Man has GIVEN ME PERMISSION to post his ENTIRE, CRACKERJACK KISSER in one slap bracelet photo, and it is QUITE scandalous.

First, a teaser:

And now…

Get ready…

Seriously, brace yourself…

MEET BYRONIC MAN (and his…lady….friend)!!!

I know. …I know! I know. It’s great.

#3 – Darla from She’s a Maineiac

Darla rules my guilty pleasure school. Her blog posts are thoughtful, funny and beautifully written. Darla is also incredibly supportive of her fellow bloggers; back in October, she got my video blogging contest off the ground, and by vlogging about Reese’s peanut butter cups and Golden Girls, she proved that she is the most chipmunky of chipmunks.

Speaking of chipmunks…I’m so excited to share Darla’s ADORABLY AWESOME photos (and captions!)!

I searched high and low for the slap bracelets and was startled to come upon this scene:

Apparently, even those crazy spastic helium-sucking Chipmunks can rock Julie’s fab bracelets:

Looks like wholesome Chipmunk fun...aside from the fact that poor Theodore has been blindfolded and Britney has apparently broken her neck...

I managed to steal the bracelets away long enough to put them to good use…

Nothing says “Good mornin’! Now wake the hell up!” than coffee, The Beatles and Go Guilty Pleasures!

They also make a fantastic baby bottle warmer!

Need the latest in fashionable binoculars? Or a trendy way to watch the opera? Look no further than Julie’s versatile slap bracelets!

THANK YOU Jenn (and Jen and Mickey!), Byronic Man and Darla! You can now let your loved ones know you have achieved the coveted Cherub Chipmunk status.

Stay tuned for the next installment!

If you’d like one of these (FREE!) psychedelic wonders, your wish is my command! Email me at JKSchnedeker@yahoo.com!

Making Guilty Pleasures Proud Since…Well, A While

Click on one of my first TV crushes for more awesomeness. Photo credit: http://guyism.com

Chipper Chipmunks, I heard you were looking for a new jam. Or even the remake of an old classic.

I have just the song for you, and I really, really, REALLY encourage you to check it out on my guest post for the Food and Wine Hedonist’s weekly ‘guilty pleasure song’ feature (gee, however did we two ever pair up?)! John and his blog are as spunky-chipmunky as they come, as you’ll soon see.

Also, I may have laughed harder writing this guest post than during any of my own.

And guess what? My next post is going to follow my in-the-flesh viewing of Second Husband, Darren Criss, in Broadway’s “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying”! Provided my “Why Polygamy is the Right Choice for You” presentation doesn’t win him over and we’re not flying to Fiji, that is.

P.S. – Don’t you want a GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet? All ya gotta do is e-mail your address to JKSchnedeker@yahoo.com. It’s easier than 1, 2, 3 polishing off a bottle of Korbel by yourself while trying to decide which Home Improvement kid owns the biggest meth lab (how did I miss the reunion last year?!)!

For those of you who’ve sent pictures of your slap bracelets, THANK YOU! I can’t wait to post them. For those of you who haven’t, hoo boy, you have got a lot to live up to! ;o)

GOGP’s Sexiest Dog of the Year!

Okay. Maybe not sexiest. Unless you’re into that kind of thing. (I’m a guilty pleasure blogger. I don’t judge.)

As you might recall, Uncle Jesse, our [not quite] 2-year-old Australian Labradoodle, had his first photo shoot last month, and the 130+ pictures arrived on Christmas Eve! Thanks, Jenn and Joseph Frazz Photography!

Are you ready for this, celebratory chipmunks?! These were taken in our yard, and yes, we have a giant flag painted on a board on the back fence, courtesy of the original homeowners. (We’re thinking of adding flags from around the world, whaddya think?)

Prepare yourselves for hunk-itude:

UncleJesse_Joseph-Frazz-labradoodle

UncleJesse3_Joseph-Frazz-labradoodle

UncleJesse4_Joseph-Frazz-labradoodle

UncleJesse5_Joseph-Frazz-labradoodle

And my personal favorite:

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

How are you celebrating (besides putting your supermodel dog in a gold bow tie? Oh wait, is that just me?)? Any resolutions?

A Super Star Tree

Chipmunks with cheeks full of roasted chestnuts, you are in for a treat – a guest post from Babs, the very woman who gave ALL OF THIS (i.e., me) life!

You’ll soon see how the [shamelessness] apple doesn’t fall far from the [guilty pleasure Christmas] tree.

(Click on any of the pictures to enlarge.)

So, for years my (our) guilty pleasure has been to find someone/thing worthy of the most high honor of being our Christmas Tree Topper (the ‘star on top’). It started with Britney in her red unitard, then swoon-worthy Justin Timberlake, and another year it was NSYNCer, Joey Fatone. In 2009, it was sparkly Edward Cullen, and last year, the singing Bieb himself. Oh, baby.
But this year, to honor your blog, our angel is a… chipmunk!
Decked out in huge wings, a starry halo, and yes, her own version of a slap bracelet (it’s Second Husband!).

Merry Christmas!

-Babs

Isn’t that magical? (And yes, she adds the wings and halos herself!) You rock, Babs! By the way, for those of you who requested GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelets before Monday, you should have them by tomorrow! For those of you who haven’t requested slap bracelets, what are you waiting for?? I’ve got one with your name on it (or, you know, 200 with my blog name on it)! Just email your address to me at JKSchnedeker@yahoo.com.

Happy Slapping! …Er, you know what I mean.

The Book Series That Lived (and Lived and Lived and Lived)

On Saturday night, I positively GOGP-ed to the Biography channel’s “Harry Potter: Evolution” special. Geeked. Out.

Harry Potter is a subject matter that, like Buffy, Glee or Twilight, I could discuss ad nauseam. Beyond reading the books each at least twice, I’ve watched ALL of the DVD special features. If you’ve done this yourself, you know Harry Potter special features trump them all. They’re very thorough, and it’s just so damn cool to see how they create this magical world. To think it all started in the mind of a lil’ writer named Jo! A lil’ writer like you. …Or me!

So, yes, I watched this Biography feature, fixated. I pondered very serious things: How did they know Emma Watson would grow up to be so pretty, and not taller than Daniel or Rupert? When my boss told me I reminded her of Luna Lovegood last Friday, what was the proper reaction? Peppermeister knew better than to interrupt. Until he couldn’t help himself and added his own deep thoughts.

“How much money does J.K. Rowling have?” He paused. “All of it?”

Well...she's brave. And she makes her own jewelry. That's...something.

If you were called a Harry Potter character, who would it be and why? (And what have you been geeking out on lately??)