Tag: fun

Chipmunks Forever, Just For Fun, Uncategorized, Vlogalicious

Blog, Blog, Blog Your Sillies Out

Go Jules Go

Hi cutie-patootie critters! You’re probably gonna want to play this while you read:

There is definitely something in the air today. Fridays usually bring out a certain level of giddiness, it’s true, but today takes the [ooey, gooey, chocolate-filled, cream cheese icing-topped, chipmunk-decorated] cake.

Not only was I positively thrilled to see (literally, see!) three of my favorite bloggers, Darla from She’s a Maineiac, Deb from The Monster in Your Closet and Renée from Lessons From Teachers and Twits, participate in GOGP’s first video blogging contest, but some of my other favorite bloggers also seem to have caught their own case of the sillies in the past 24 hours. Love it! <–Understatement of the year.

“People who don’t know me think I’m amazing” from An Attempt At Humor

“If I Didn’t Work” from Lost and Forgotten

“Guess What?” from Girl on the Contrary (the comments on this one are priceless)

And now, I leave you with a fact that’s never before wormed its way into this blog: Ten years ago (!!), I met The Peppermeister while working at a special needs elementary school. We plan to leverage our combined awesomeness expertise, and barn, into an enchanting special ed summer camp within the next year or two (for realsies). Anyhoo, “Shake Your Sillies Out” was the best song I learned in those two years working at the school. Maybe the best song I’ve ever learned, well, period. What’s your favorite silly song? (Doesn’t have to be a kid song. I’m sure you guys remember this one from Ace of Base.)

P.S. – Why, yes, yes I did actually shake my sillies out before posting this. So enthusiastically that I forgot I let the dog out (…crud, don’t tell Peppermeister).

Booze, Lists

The #1 Reason I Own A Monogrammed Flask…And It’s All Your Fault

Go Jules Go

The Good Greatsby‘s post about children’s birthday parties inspired me to write this latest post about my favorite possession, my monogrammed flask. I’m sure you can understand the thought progression [from ‘crying, screaming, cake-smeared child’ to ‘clandestine alcohol consumption’], so I won’t bore you with the obvious.

Kept in its original box when not in use.

As you can see, it’s a first-rate flask, its single flaw being that it is much too small. It was given to me by perhaps the only person in this world who really gets me, the lovely woman who for three years I was fortunate enough to call my Work Wife (sadly, she has moved on to greener pastures, and I find I need the flask just that much more). I dedicate this post to her, and all the things we share in common (including, but not limited to, a deep understanding and appreciation of Michael Bublé lyrics and someecards.com).

I’d like to say that that leads nicely into the #1 reason I need a flask: Work. But, I should be clear in that I’ve yet to find the nerve to bring a flask to work, and somehow just barely manage to make it through the front door each week day before letting my Grey Goose loose.

No, remarkably, it’s not work.

The #1 Reason I Own a Monogrammed Flask is:

Your Showers (Baby or Bridal and dear god don’t tell me there’s any other kind).

I don’t even know where to start, but I do know the rest of this post is going to write itself.

If I have to play Bridal Bingo or see an infant clothesline one more time, I’m going Into the Wild. Women Lose. Their. Minds. at these things. The little prizes from the dollar store might as well be Robert Pattinson‘s used napkin. It’s like being in Oprah‘s audience, except the most any of us are going home with is a hydrangea-scented memo pad (and, in my case, a migraine).

Don’t even get me started on those women who write recite a touching poem that no one can hear over the continuous cries of alleged Bingo, or the ones who are utterly convinced that they’re the first person in the world to think of melting chocolate in a diaper. And if you’re one of the women who encourages these other types (“Oh, Betsy, you are SO creative!”), you’re on my Poop List, too.

The worst is when I’m put at a table full of strangers whose fanatical expressions remind me that there is absolutely no chance of finding a like-minded soul at this shindig, and also that I must be evil (and may in fact not even have a soul, despite my willingness to wear pastel and a convincing grin), because look at how much fun everyone else is genuinely having. My only saving grace is that I’m sitting close enough to the restroom to make a quick getaway (or seven). Bottoms up, you delusional tulle junkies.

Games and poetry of any kind were banned from my bridal shower, but I still lose sleep at night thinking about how I put those nearest and dearest to me through this cursed ordeal.

It is unforgivable, but at least we’re even now.

Guilty Flavor of the Week, Music, Uncategorized

Introducing…Guilty Flavor of the Week!

Go Jules Go

I’m feeling a bit down, and I think I just figured out the reason: Reruns! One look at my DVR and you’ll feel as empty as we both do.

It’s time we both focus on the positive things the Guilty Pleasure Gods have to offer this month: 1) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part 1) is available on DVD beginning April 15th, 2) “The Warblers” CD drops April 19th, 3) Water for Elephants is coming to theaters on April 22nd,

…AND…

4) GOGP‘s Guilty Flavor of the Week Starts RIGHT NOW!

My amazing new blog feature!

You’re going to love it!!

It’s almost as great as when he/she said he/she’d marry you!!!

And it’s so much better than when all one/two/three/seven of your kids were born!!!!

This week’s Guilty Flavor of the Week honor goes to:

VOYEURISM!


…just kidding (sort of)…

BRUNO MARS!

I swore I wouldn’t fall in love with “Grenade,” but I. Just. Can’t. Help. It.  Enjoy (I double dog dare you not to)!!!

Animals, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized, Uncle Jesse

Things That Confuse Me When I Walk My Dog: A Photo Tour

Go Jules Go

My husband and I try to take our dog for a walk every day, which usually amounts to 3 times a week. The only option by our house is to do a full 2-mile loop, and some most times E.L. Fudge cookies in front of the T.V. wins.

Perhaps the real reason I am hesitant to embark on this exhausting trek is because so many things baffle me along the way. (Click on any of the pictures to enlarge.)

MILE 0.15: Here is where my dog decides to relieve himself. Every time. As if he KNOWS it’s just far enough away from the house to require me to carry his feces for the remaining 1.85 miles.

MILE 0.41: I cannot for the life of me fathom why climbing this hill mountain never gets easier. No matter how many vodka shots I turn down the night before.

MILE 1.05: I don’t have a picture of Mile 1.05, because Mile 1.05 scares me, and I’m fairly certain that if I showed you why, you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and then I’d feel really bad (but would mostly worry that you’d stop reading my blog). Suffice it to say, the house at Mile 1.05 has a rusted sign on the gate, leading up to a dome-shaped apartment/garage, and it reads: HONK BEFORE YOU ENTER.

MILE 1.11: And if you’re not already freaked out, look what I recently discovered behind this seemingly-innocent house: a legitimate cemetary! They did a very good job disguising it; it took me almost 8 months to notice. But this worries me even more. I have so many questions, the first being, as I’m sure you’d imagine, are those people or pets? …And this is why I need to stop asking questions.

MILE 1.18: Luckily, it’s not long before we land in Pleasantville, but this too perplexes me. Are forsythia bushes supposed to look like that, and have the rest of us been offending Mother Nature unwittingly? And, P.S., what kind of birds are landing at this residence? I didn’t think turkeys could fly that high.

MILE 1.30: Now not only am I in Pleasantville, but it is 1952 and the neighborhood kids have gone for a dip in the watering hole.

MILE 1.52: I have not yet figured out why these people have a miniature pony, nor why I feel so disappointed when it chooses to hide in its shack (in case you don’t already know, I could do without horses).

MILE 1.60: There were 3 sheep here before winter. It’s spring now. Where are they? Oh, god, don’t tell me they’re behind the house at Mile 1.11.

MILE 1.71: Every time I pass one of the three (yes, three) Christmas tree farms in our neighborhood, I wonder how anyone could ever think New Jersey is anything less than a magical, pine-scented armpit, where everyone says, “How YOU doin’, amongst this fine bucolic splendor?”

MILE 1.79: You might not be able to tell from this photo, but this mailbox’s general girth puzzles me. Just look at the massive posts holding it up. Do they often get large packages containing the parts needed to assemble Dolly Parton’s bra, or a shopping mall? Or do they have a very small-but-unhygenic houseguest who comes to visit frequently enough that it requires drastic sleeping arrangements?

MILE 1.90: Daffodils. They’re everywhere! Why?

MILE 1.91: I will never, EVER understand why this house always has a ladder resting against it. Not always in the same place, but always there. If someone is trying to sneak out (or in), they’re not being very sneaky, or consistent. And if repairs are underway, why am I not seeing any progress? That ladder HAS to be messing with their Feng Shui.

These are all things I don’t understand. What I do understand is that if <insert deity here> wanted me to walk 2 miles every day, he wouldn’t have made Fudge Stripes taste so good.

THE END.

Wait, wait, P.S. – a little shout-out to someone else who’s confused: click here.