I heard you like to laugh. At my expense. Sounds like you're ready to take our friendship to the next level. You won't be disappointed. I swear on teeny, tiny baby chipmunks.
I now have enough GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet photos to do not one, but two Slap Bracelet Comeback posts! So, continuing on in the order in which they were received…
Olivia and I are new buds. I was excited to hear from her a few weeks ago, requesting a slap bracelet and bloggy feedback. She reminded me of the best part of blogging – connecting with other writers.
Isn’t she purdy?I think Russell is positively rabid for his slap bracelet.
Misty really wants everyone to put their best foot forward, especially her family. She reminds people to stay on track (and out of stretch pants) in her always-amusing Friday fashion disaster feature, Weekly Whacked. For even more hilarity, check out this recent post that is as humorous as it is horrifying.
You may remember Erin from her recent victory as a runner-up in the GoGuiltyPleasures gift basket giveaway. Her guilty pleasure submission, along with her AMAZING photo accompaniment, were simply breathtaking. She is a true chipmunk.
And her cat, Alex, may just be one of the cutest pets I’ve ever seen. Even if he is trying to mangle the greatest fashion look since side-ponies.
More slap bracelet pics to come next week! By the way, I still have some slap bracelets left, so email me ASAP., a.k.a., As Soon As Perfection-interests-you.
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, ThePop-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?
Renée, please consider this your open invitation to guest post on my blog any time; I know the below submission is only the tip of your guilty pleasure iceberg.
Renée’s Entry:
Okay, you know I love to break into dance. But that’s the small stuff. Another guilty pleasure?
*whispering*
I sometimes sunbathe topless in my backyard.
And there is a middle school in my backyard.
True. You cannot make this stuff up.
If you’re feeling a little sore from Renée’s victory, perhaps this picture will help.
Zeal has never been happier.
After Renée submitted her scintillating entry, I tried to Google Earth her house*. Here’s what came up:
Can you tell which house is Renée's?
That’s right, Renée, all of this is YOURS! ALL YOURS!
*If you’re feeling stalky after seeing that bikini pic, please don’t waste your time haunting the above neighborhood. That isn’t where Renée lives. And duh. Just email me for her address.
My guilty pleasure might surprise you. There’s nothing I like more than spending a quiet evening playing my favorite game: Go Guilty Pleasures, the home edition.
~*~
First I obsessively click on your blog. If I’ve left a comment, I see if you’ve responded to my comment. Then I go click on the Recommended Humor Blogs WordPress page to see if I’m still on there. Then back to your blog to see if anyone has responded either to my original comment or your response to my comment. Back to the Humor page to see if anybody else I know is cycling through the list more often than me. Back to your blog. I leave a follow-up comment if necessary. Then I rate all the other comments and compare their cleverness-quotient to my comment. If anyone else’s score even approaches mine, I spend some time worrying about that. Finish up with just one, teensy-weensy peek back at the Humor page (with my stopwatch to catalogue relative hang-times.)
~*~
Next comes the best part of the game. I BECOME you. I put on the Side Pony of Super Fun-ness. I put my custom-crafted Uncle Jesse mask on my cat, Beeby (this part isn’t as easy as it might sound). I line up some champagne (actually Asti – I’m on a budget) and break out the bacon candy bars and Reeses for snacking. I use mice instead of chipmunks as my life coaches because they’re a lot easier to catch around my house. That may be why they don’t really give me any advice, no matter how many times I ask. But I pretend they do while I make funny, fun faces. I get lots and lots of guilty pleasure from taking lots and lots of pictures of myself being blondly side-ponied and fun. A lot.
~*~
Yup, for my family, there’s no more relaxing way to spend the evening than playing Go Guilty Pleasures. As my hubby said to me just the other night, “Why do you keep calling me Peppermeister? Who the hell is that??”
~*~
Happy Birthday to us!!
I told Peg I was jealous of her side-pony, because it's longer than mine, and probably curls like a dream.
I voted at that link you posted, posted to facebook (i’m not sure how i will prove this with my security settings) and my blog. I have twitter but don’t use it (that’s a story for another time if you get bored) and i got the tattoo and performed the ritual sacrifice.
I emailed you this pic but incase it comes down to bloggers voting in the contest, here is the link (see below for picture).
Now for the guilty pleasures:
I sing to my cat Alex every day when i come home. I even sing as alex sometimes. I am not a good singer so he’s probably embarrassed.
Speaking of bad singing i also am a big harry potter nerd and i used to be a part of an online Hogwarts website where you took classes and met other nerds. You would think that would be a guilty enough pleasure right there as it’s terribly embarrassing but i used to compete in a yearly singing contest there called HOL idol and i would actually record myself singing and enter the contest. 0________0 SO EMBARRASSING. I wrote bad fanfic too.
As perfect as a guilty pleasure can get. Did you see the tattoo on her hand??
I eat entire pints of coffee Haagen Dazs in the car as I drive alone in the car. No spoon. No napkin. By the time I’m finished, both the steering wheel and I are covered with ice cream. Yum.
Chipmunks-who-like-a-challenge, it’s almost April 29th, a.k.a. the deadline for submitting your entry to win the GREATEST gift basket of all time. (The deadline is 12pm EST on Sunday, April 29th.)
All you have to do to enter is: 1) mention the gift basket giveaway post on your blog and/or Twitter account and/or Facebook page, and 2) follow the link above and leave a comment telling me a true story involving you and a guilty pleasure. (If you have any trouble leaving a comment, you can email me your submission.)
REMEMBER – I’m looking for true stories involving you and a guilty pleasure, and am judging based on style, creativity and humor.
Because, ya know, I’m not parting with these treasures THAT easily.
Multiple submissions are acceptable.
I will announce the winner (and two runners-up) on Monday, April 30th.
Good luck – may the odds be ever in your favor may the pleasures be ever guilty!
Oh, Long Island. You are the birthplace of so many things I love. Like my dad, but more importantly, Long Island Iced Tea.
When you want to forget your own name.
You also gave us the Hamptons and the Lohans Baldwin brothers. And just when I thought you couldn’t top yourself, you gave me this:
She's loud. Oh and she talks to dead people.
Long Island Medium, one of TLC’s latest guilty pleasure gems, stars medium
Look! Her family can even channel The Jersey Shore's style sensibilities!
Theresa Caputo. Caputo is ‘just your average’ Long Island lady (with the accent to match, so grab your caw-fee and let’s tawk), married with two high-school aged kids, except oh wait – she constantly bumps into spirits while running day-to-day errands. The family is nonplussed by her ability, though occasionally embarrassed when they can’t stop at the local Quik-Mart for milk without undead company. (The Long Island Medium is compelled to deliver any messages she receives. That’s why, you know, she has a show.)
Caputo also performs private and group readings, where she usually enters with a joke to ease the tension, then explains that she focuses on positive messages. If she does convey anything negative, it’s only because it will benefit the message recipient. Definitely a point worth noting when you’re talking to a mother whose son was shot in a crime currently under investigation, or the child of someone who lost a parent in 9/11.
Caputo usually picks up on numbers and objects when she performs a reading.
"I'm serious. He's looking up my skirt RIGHT. NOW. ...Oh. I'm not wearing a skirt? Well, this is awkward."
“Who here lost a son?” she might begin at a group reading, moving on to ask things like, “What is the significance of the ruby necklace? I keep seeing a ruby.” She’s immediately met with tears and ohmygods, because how can she possibly know about late Aunt Dotty’s ruby fetish? She also hones in on character traits of the deceased: “Was your brother a ladies man? He’s like, tryin’ to look up my skirt right now! Oh my GAWD.”
The skeptic in me watches and thinks, “Duh. She probably Googled this chick before the reading.” But the guilty pleasure fiend in me wants to believe. And I know wanting to believe is what makes these supposed scam artists successful – they capitalize on our vulnerability, and our intense desire to believe there’s life after death.
But I still kinda believe. Especially if believing means crying during every episode.
What do you think? Is the Long Island Medium (and others like her) legit?
Thoughtsy, of the very giggle-inducing blog, Thoughts Appear, recently tagged me to answer 11 Questions. As I told her, I’m normally a party-pooper about these kinds of things, but since her answers were so funny, and 11 is my lucky number, it seemed like I should roll with it.
The Rules (which I Will follow…Mostly)
You must post the rules.
Post eleven fun facts about yourself.
Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
Tag eleven people and link them on your post.
Let them know you’ve tagged them.
Here we go! Oh and I’ve made this a drinking game. Take a shot every time I say the word a…or chipmunk. … A Chipmunk!
11 Fun Facts About Me
I really, really wish I could raise just one eyebrow at a time. I mean, I can’t grow a mustache, so it’s the least my face could do for me.
I panic and pass out when getting blood drawn. (Don’t worry. I still love vampires.)
I think feet are cute; I love me some flip-flops.
I spend a lot of time thinking about what holes in my body bugs crawl into while I’m sleeping.
I climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. But I’ve never been to DisneyWorld (or Land).
Now time for a fun fact from Captain Obvious: I am not afraid of heights.
I was born 2 weeks early, on April 30th, just so I could guarantee that diamond would be my birthstone.
One of my favorite sounds is the sound of a can of soda being opened. It sounds like a contented sigh, like unbuttoning your pants after Thanksgiving dinner. Only fizzier.
I would give up any ability I have for the ability to sing.
I’m really good at shuffling cards.
Ooh. That reminds me. I can never, EVER remember the rules to any card games.
I think anyone who litters should have to face Voldemort. Or a dementor, at least.
Really? FROSTED. Strawberry or brown-sugar cinnamon. And did you know they come in two-packs so you can eat one while you toast the other?
2. What age would you want to stay forever?
22, I guess. I was old enough to drink. And done with school. I would have taken advantage of my much smaller rear end. Or, you know, started researching cures for cancer…
3. Do you think I’m pretty? You can usethis picture as a reference.
As long as he’s not drinking my vodka, I don’t give a scratch where Waldo is.
5. What’s your favorite quote?
It probably goes without saying, but, “Life is uncertain, eat dessert first.”
Even Wikipedia says it tastes like gym socks.
6. Name one food you’ve never tried…and don’t want to.
Durian, that crazy, stinky fruit that’s supposed to be one of the most unpalatable things in the world.
7. Do you believe in the tooth fairy?
If I say yes, is there any money in it for me?
8. If you could change your first name, what would it be?
I’d want to change it to something that would really mess with people. Like DUCK!!! “Mom, have you met my friend, DUCK!!!”
(I didn’t have another blonde moment and steal this joke from some comedian, did I? …Do you ever get those moments? No? Well…hey, now you know TWELVE fun facts about me: I am often paranoid about unwittingly stealing jokes…er…A CHIPMUNK!)
9. If you could be any animal, what would you be?
Allow me to answer this question with a picture (of A CHIPMUNK):
11. How much money would you need to quit your job for one year?
Enough to make you want to throw up in your mouth a little. I’m living well beyond my means, and if I must be more clear, know that New Jerseyians pay in annual property tax what many people pay in mortgage for a year. Commence reverse peristalsis barfing.
Now here’s the part where I break bend the rules a little. Instead of naming 11 bloggers who may or may not love me for doing so, I invite anyone who reads this to answer my questions (below) on your blog. (And please let me know if you do!) Or you can answer any of them in the comments section below!
Your 11 Questions to Answer (you know, only if you want to)
What wouldn’t you do for a Klondike bar?
Is it more important for someone to be nice or smart?
Do you think doilies make any occasion a fancy one?
Is it a deal-breaker if someone has bad breath?
What would you be embarrassed for your co-workers to find out about you?
If I told you I could draw your portrait, would you want me to? And would you pay me?
Do you think scorpions are scary? (Because THEY ARE.)
His name is Zac Efron. He's super nice.
What kind of Chia pet makes the best Chia pet?
Do you think Zac Efron is as nice in real life as he seems?
I’ve always been a blonde at heart, even after I had to start dying my hair to maintain the golden hue on the outside. I can’t tell left from right, Clueless is my favorite movie, and I truly believe stuffed animals can talk.
The thing is, up until this past week, I considered myself a very high-functioning blonde. I can walk and chew gum at the same time, and even figure out how much to tip my girl crush colorist.
This week, things took a nosedive.
Exhibit A-lzheimer’s
It started on Tuesday, when I wrote out a GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet letter for The Mad Queen (I try to make every handwritten letter completely unique, because I can’t remember what I wrote the last time so you are not only getting the hottest fashion accessory, but a little piece of my soul. It’s the least I can do for my Chipmunks), and I felt a strong sense of déjà vu. My jokes about the meaning of life seemed so overdone. I shook off the feeling, and mailed out her letter with a few others.
I'm smiling because I'm confused.
When I got home from the post office, I had an email from The Mad Queen, thanking me for her brand new slap bracelets, which had just arrived. Because I’d already sent them. Four days earlier.
“You will never believe this…” began my immediate response. “Oh god. I should really stop drinking,” I concluded. (The Mad Queen told me to do nothing of the sort, solidifying her chipmunkitude.)
Exhibit B-E More Aware of Obvious Facts
On Wednesday, I went shopping on my lunch break for a baby shower gift for a co-worker. Her surprise shower was at 2pm, so I set out for one of the many nearby malls (let’s hear it for Jersey!). I almost doubled-back to my desk to check the invite, to see if she was having a boy or a girl. “Screw it,” I decided, since I was only getting a gift card.
For a blonde, I had a surprising amount of difficulty navigating the mall. The mall is our motherland. I couldn’t find the store I was looking for, and wound up at Hallmark instead. They actually sold some baby clothes, including hilarious gender-neutral onesies, so I got one of those (for baby), and some equally funny chocolate bars (for mom). I scooped up a card and gift wrap, feeling smug that I wouldn’t be a part of the ‘group gift’ (er, because I missed the deadline to contribute).
I got back to work and showed our administrative assistant what I’d gotten. “I don’t really know [this person], so I didn’t get her anything,” was her response. We have a very large department, not all located in the same building (or state, for that matter), so this isn’t unusual to hear. I answered, “We went to boot camp together, and have gone to lunch, so I thought I should get her something. She’s really nice.”
I decided to check the online invite before I wrote out the card, so I could congratulate my colleague on her little ‘boy’ or ‘girl.’ I opened the invite and my jaw dropped:
No wonder she looks so thin.
Do you have any memorable blonde moments (or have you forgotten what they were?)?
Last week, Peppermeister (my husband) pointed out that Comcast cable’s OnDemand feature (where you can watch movies and TV shows, well, on demand) added something called XFINITY Streampix. Under that category, they added the first two seasons of Dawson’s Creek.
Remember Dawson’s Creek? “I don’t wanna wait…”, the Joey-Dawson-Pacey love triangle, the intense vocabulary, and the dad in jail? Right. That’s the one.
When I was 16, I was obsessed with Dawson’s Creek. They filmed it in Wilmington, North Carolina, about a 12-hour drive from where I grew up in northern(ish) New Jersey. Thanks to my habit of trolling America Online chat rooms, I found out how to contact the casting agency and become an extra.
In case you don’t know – anyone can be an extra. I mean, anyone. Even nerdy 16-year-olds with zero acting experience or ability. Especially when it’s a show’s first season and they film in a quiet town in North Carolina (though it’s worth noting that Wilmington is home to Screen Gems Studios, the largest domestic television and movie production facility outside of California).
Babs (my mom), the woman who taught me everything I know about guilty pleasures, agreed to take a 5-day trip down to Wilmington in September of 1998, and I experienced life as an extra for the first time. Though it’s mostly downtime with a bizarre subculture of working ‘background actors,’ we had so much fun that we made the same trip several more times over the next two years. During what should have been my first semester of college, I worked as a full-time extra. (I was going to be a screenwriter. To heck with higher education!)
I don’t own Dawson’s Creek on DVD, so Peppermeister had never seen my network TV debut. For the first time in 10 years, thanks to Comcast, we sat down this weekend and watched my key scenes.
In the one you’re about to see, I had to diligently prepare; I had finally scored a coveted classroom seat, and would be pretending to take a driver’s permit exam. Pacey (Joshua Jackson) was on edge, having just gotten into another argument with his insensitive cop father. He’d already failed this test once. Not to mention his girlfriend, Andie, who was in the nuthouse and still hadn’t called. My character, on the other hand, felt adequately prepared for the exam, but was also preoccupied – I’d recently caught my father cheating on my mother, who certainly didn’t deserve it after 15 years of working the late shift at the Snakeskin diner. I hadn’t told anyone, not even my best friend, Ashley Katsopolis. Can you sense the angst?
Did I just blow your mind? And guess what? After carefully tallying up all of my shining onscreen moments, I still have 14 minutes and 23 seconds of fame left!
Sweet!
Have you had your 15 minutes of fame? Close encounters of the celebrity kind? I can’t wait to hear. I live for this shiz.
***WORDPRESSURE ALERT***
If you have unseen GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelet pictures kicking around, NOW IS THE TIME to send them in! I’m getting prepped for the next installment, and I’d love to give/your blog/your pictures the loving attention they deserve.
In an effort to distract myself from the impending doom of turning 30 this month
Because I suffer from a severe shopping addiction
Everyone knows buying friends is better than making them based on genuine merit
There are giveaways, and then there are giveaways. I’ll let you guess which kind this is.
Reactions to the guilty pleasure gift basket for my brother made it clear I needed to recreate this wonder for one lucky Chipmunk. Only make it BETTER. Way better. I’ve been working on this bad boy for a while. That’s right. It’s time for the…
GoGuiltyPleasures Gift Basket Giveaway!
What? No, those are NOT tears in my eyes...
Let’s take a closer look, shall we?
Vosges Mo’s MILK Chocolate Bacon Bar
Tasting is believing.
Pop-Up Book of Celebrity Meltdowns
Who says God doesn't exist?
GoGuiltyPleasures Slap Bracelets (4)
They're fashionable AND practical.
Pop Tarts and Barnum’s Animal Crackers
You might win these...IF they last that long.
Cutting Edge on DVD
My second favorite movie of all-time. TOE PICK!!!
Wine Monkey Wine Caddy
You didn't know you needed this, did you?
AN Autograped Picture of My Dog, Uncle Jesse
He doesn't do this for just anyone, you know.
“CHIPMUNKS ROCK” Sticker
Sometimes it's important to state the obvious.
Nutella and Peanut Butter and Company’s Dark Chocolate Dreams Peanut Butter
Who needs jelly?
TALKING Mustache KEY CHAIN
I don't know how you've managed to live without this, either.
Approximate value: Priceless.
“How the fudge do I get my paws on that?” I’m sure you’re wondering. It’s easy!
How to Win the Ultimate GoGuiltyPleasures Gift Basket
1.) Link to this blog post on your blog and/or Facebook and/or Twitter account(s). (I’m @Julie_Davidoski on Twitter, and GoGuiltyPleasures on Facebook – links over on my side bar —>).
2.) Get a tattoo of my likeness (minus 30 lbs.) on a part of your body that is regularly visible, and send me a picture of your family members and coworkers admiring it.
Kidding.
The real 2.) Tell me a true story involving you and a guilty pleasure. Leave it in the comments section below, or send it to me via email. No word count restrictions, but please do remember this is a family-friendly blog.
The winner will receive all of the items above. Two runners-up will also get some guilty pleasure lovin’ – 4 GoGuiltyPleasures slap bracelets and a Vosges Mo’s milk chocolate bacon bar!
For two runners-up. Booya!
Entries will be judged by yours truly on creativity, style and my mood at the time of judging humor. Winning entries will be posted here for all to enjoy!
Deadline: Sunday, April 29, 2012 12pm EST. (So sorry, but due to shipping costs, the 1st place prize can be awarded to U.S. and Canada residents only.)
The winner will be announced on MY BIRTHDAY!!! Monday, April 30, 2012.
There are a few things kicking around that I really want to share with you, and try as I might, I can’t find a common theme (other than awesomesauciness), so here they are in all their random glory:
Slap bracelets: They're not just for repressed guilty pleasure bloggers anymore! (Thanks to Renee at Life in the Boomer Lane for this pic - click it for her blog link!)
3.) I have some really phatflydope excellent posts coming to you very soon. I want to tell you more, but where’s the my fun in that? Let’s just say a guest post and a giveaway are involved. You don’t want to miss it.
4.) Thanks for being so nice and attractive. I really do love you.
What’s making you smile today? If you haven’t found anything, perhaps Henri, the existential cat, can help you come to terms with that:
Go Jules Go 