Tag: humor

Chipmunks Forever, Lists, Slap Bracelets

Slap Bracelets Comeback – The GRAND (Oh, it’s Grand) Finale!

Go Jules Go

Well, fashion-forward Chipmunks. The time has come. I’ve given away nearly 200 slap bracelets since December, and your response has made my guilty pleasure heart soar.

I think we’ve done it. We’ve brought them back. A quick Google search of “slap bracelets” proves this. They’re everywhere. (Add “chipmunks” to that search and see what happens!)

Congratulations to you for being so awesome.

Oh and a final tip before we view some FLIPPIN’ FANTASTIC PHOTOS – I’ve noticed my few remaining slap bracelets are suffering from lackluster snappiness. Perhaps it’s the gawd-awful Jersey humidity. Anyhoo, it seems they like being stored rolled up, instead of flat. Here’s a helpful illustration:

And now – onto the final pictures (posted, as always, in the order in which they were received)! If you’d like to see past slap bracelet pictures, or Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelets across the blogosphere, scurry over to my Slap Bracelets page. And of course, if any other photos roll in, you know I’ll be thrilled to brag about post them.

#1 – A.J.’s Mom From BibeAutyful

A.J.’s Mom and I bonded over the gloriousness that is guilty pleasure gift basket giveaways. Her submission [to win the basket] was wonderful (and earned her an Honorable Mention). I’m very excited to post her pictures and introduce any newcomers to her blog! I mean, just look at her annotations! You do me proud, A.J.’s Mom.

Finally! Slap bracelets at the Royal Wedding!

This one has inspired me in so many ways:

#2 – Angie Z. from Childhood Relived

Chipmunks, I don’t even know where to start here. Peppermeister (Husband #1) just told me that I was talking in my sleep the other night (I blame the heroin cough suppressants); apparently I said the name “Angie” as I was chattering away incoherently. When he asked who I was talking to, I sleep-responded, “My bud, Angie, from Go Guilty Pleasures!” (I’m absolutely certain I used my own blog name so he would understand.)

Angie, I’m sorry if that creeps you out, but I really just love you a lot. You even got me to share my horrifying kid pics. If people don’t understand why I feel this way, all they need to do is read this slap bracelet letter and see the accompany photos, which take us back to a simpler time, when slap bracelets weren’t yet shanks.

Dear Jules,

I received my snap bracelets in the mail and couldn’t be happier.  They are everything I ever wanted in vinyl wrist accessories.

In fact, what I would’ve given to have them years ago.  (I could’ve been the coolest girl in high school.)  What I would’ve given to have them in the summer of ’93, just in time for my senior year photo shoot.

Can you believe we’re seniors?  It’s gone so fast!

After giving it some thought, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands — quite literally.  Because who says you can’t reinvent the past?

That’s right — with my very own snap bracelets, I decided to recreate my senior pictures.  I happen to have some of my old clothes even — the early ’90s certainly paved the way in high fashion.  I think you’ll agree that we gave up the hair bump far too soon.

I’ll always remember the homecoming party at T-Bone’s house when we karaoked to Ace of Base.  I’ll always remember how you proposed marriage to Mark Calderon from Color Me Badd.  I’ll always remember how we ruled the school in our band uniforms.  My memory is a little fuzzy on that last one.

Stay cool, never change, and never stop wearing your velvet choker,

Angie

P.S.  Why does my old letter jacket stink like Cool Ranch Doritos?

#3 – L from Trying Not to be Fat

In a short time, L has become one of my favorite favourite Canadians. First of all, she makes delicious food for a living and has great stories, and second of all, she’s very funny. Her blog focuses on her effort to lose weight, and while she needs no help from me, I keep offering to take those croissants off her hands.

I just sent L’s bracelet out on Tuesday, so she neither confirms nor denies the authenticity of THIS photo:

#4 – Kate from Katiepede’s Blog

I can’t even tell you how stoked bloody delighted I am to have another Brit in my corner. Kate has a great sense of humor, which complements her green thumb, and probably means I should never introduce her to Peppermeister. It would be love at first sapling.

She’s so thoughtful, she even brought the Jubilee to me!

#5 – She Who Must Not Be Named (but you can call her Ashley Patterson, her favorite book character)

Ashley gave me a right scare this week when she said her slap bracelets STILL hadn’t made it to Dubai after several weeks. I would have had to take down my ‘Number of Slap Bracelet Incidents: 0’ board that I keep next to my Second Husband shrine.

Luckily, there was just a little mix-up at the office, and they showed up on Wednesday, just in time for Ashley to snap some amazing pictures of…

The slap bracelet letter…

Her handbag, which didn’t think it could get any hotter, until…

Alfred, who recently graduated and is allegedly quite the braggart, never taking off his graduation cap…

Alfred’s pal, Creamy, who wanted to join the fun, but you can just imagine what Alfred had to say about that. Snob.

“Creamy, you’re bear-y nice. You’re just not cut out for this kind of pressure.”

Pictures in Dubai – the famous Emirates towers…

…And the world’s tallest tower, Burj Khalifa…

And last, but certainly not least, 3 of Ashley’s guilty pleasures: The Post-Its in her room…

Her books…

And her all-time favorite, her love dices (now THAT’S what I call well played)…

#6 – Sprinkles from How Can I Complain?

Sprinkles is one of my oldest and most cherished blog buddies. I ADORE Sprinkles, the way some people adore, well, sprinkles. She just gets it, you know? I mean, just ask her about any of TLC’s latest offerings.

Meet Sophie, whose guilty pleasure is bubble watching (I could watch this all day):

And here is Sprinkles’ new(ish) tattoo, designed by her oldest daughter – how amazing is that?

Thanks again, Chipmunks. I really believe you are special. And not special like you can’t eat cereal without spilling milk down your shirt. Special like I’d totally watch your stand-up comedy even if you used props like Bob the Snake.

I wonder what’s next*.

*I totally know what’s next.

Animals, New Jersey is breathtaking, Uncategorized

Snakes Aren’t Scary (Except When They Are)

Go Jules Go

So you’re probably thinking I’m going to start this post like I always do, by greeting you as my fuzzy, wuzzy, li’l Chipmunks. Well, I would, but Peppermeister (First Husband) told me snakes eat chipmunks. And I just don’t want to take that kind of chance here.

You see, on Saturday, amidst hour number 8,002 of yard work, I went over to the pool filter and lifted the cover so I could clean it out. We had just had a big storm, so I knew it would be full of crud.

Oh, I was right about that.

Yup. THAT just happened.

I’d like to take this time to remind you that I live in New Jersey. The reason I stay here is simple: NO SCARY CREATURES (unless you count our politicians). No scorpions, no box jellyfish, no dementors, and no grizzlies (I don’t think. Don’t burst my bubble).

Now, okay, this snake was probably only 18 inches long, and a harmless garter at that, but that didn’t stop me from letting out a strangled cry and jumping back 5 feet.

I made Peppemeister repeat the process when he got home, so he too might have something to blog about. Which is when we discovered it was still very much alive.

Now that I’ve had a few days to recover, I’ve decided I’ve given this snake far too much power. And I know I’m not alone; so many people are terrified of snakes.

I’m going to take care of all that for you, right here, right now. It’s the least I can do considering you’re probably still pissed from hearing that I have a pool and haven’t invited you over.

Allow me to present to you:

BOB, the Worst Stand-Up Comic Snake of All-Time

And so you see, snakes are nothing to be afraid of. Until they start telling jokes.

Have you ever encountered any unwanted critters in your dwelling?

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, the deadline is TODAY, JUNE 6th. I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

Marriage, Uncategorized, Wipe the Drool

Second Husband & Go Jules Go: Our First Conversation

Go Jules Go

So, I maybe had a little too much to drink the other night, and started having an imaginary conversation with Second Husband, Darren Criss (of “Glee” fame). This is that conversation.

Honestly, I’m surprised this doesn’t happen more often.

GO JULES GO: I love you so much. I don’t even care if that makes you uncomfortable.

SECOND HUSBAND: Um…

GO JULES GO: It’s funny you say that. When I was about to molest First Husband, he had a similar reaction.

SECOND HUSBAND: Um…

GO JULES GO: Yes! Exactly like that. I was all, “Do you think I’m pretty?” and he was all, “Um…” and I was like, “How would you feel if I did something stupid right now?” and he was like, “Um…” and then I attacked him.

SECOND HUSBAND: …Attacked?

GO JULES GO: Well, you know. Kissed. Geesh. Didn’t you read my guest post for Laughter is Catching?

SECOND HUSBAND: Guest…post? Is that like when you fill in for someone on security duty?

GO JULES GO: Ha ha! There is so much I can teach you, Second Husband! Let us start with the rules of plural marriage.

SECOND HUSBAND: I don’t like where this is going.

GO JULES GO: Oh, don’t be coy. You know I saved the best for last.

SECOND HUSBAND: So you’re stopping at two husbands? How am I supposed to believe that?

GO JULES GO: Well, if you’d just grow a handlebar mustache I’d feel a lot better about making this official.

SECOND HUSBAND: I would rock the shiz out of a handlebar mustache.

GO JULES GO: I know you would. And you just said shiz.

SECOND HUSBAND: So?

GO JULES GO: So I love you.

THE END

Who are you having imaginary conversations with?

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, the deadline is THIS WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6th. I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

Project Management, Slap Bracelets

Slap Bracelet Pictures: June 6th Deadline!

Go Jules Go

Oh, god…

Oh no, please no…

…here she comes…

I. Just. Can’t. Stop her!

Project Manager Jules is HERE.

CERTIFIED Project Manager, bee-atch.

She says you have until next Wednesday, June 6th, to send in your precious, priceless Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet pictures!

I know. A deadline. What a cow.

But she claims she has her reasons. And she might even tell you what they are. (Seriously. Who does she think she is?) So I guess in the meantime, get snappin’ and sending’ to Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. I’d hate to see what she’ll do to you if you’re late.

 

Just For Fun, Kvetching, Uncategorized, Wipe the Drool

Oh, Please, No. MY Childhood Relived?!

Go Jules Go
Oh sure. This looks like a precious baby book to YOU. But what’s inside would make Stephen King cry.

Okay. We all know I have a great family, yadda yadda, and things couldn’t have been that bad growing up if I was on a swim team and had the language skills to say “Oh! Bless you!” after I heard someone cut the cheese when I was 2, blah blah blah…

Oh yeah. It’s all fine and dandy in the beginning.

…but there’s a dark side to my childhood.

I’m lulling you into a false sense of security with my sparse ‘cute’ pictures.

I’m revealing the horror thanks to an exceptional blog called Childhood Relived. At Childhood Relived, Angie Z. focuses on growing up in the 80s, which I think we can all agree is inherently funny. But her quick-wit and memory to match make this blog a non-stop Giggle Fest. I can tell you from corresponding with Angie via email that she is an extremely talented writer, both in and outside of the blogosphere.

Angie has an ongoing Dynomite! contest in which readers submit their most embarrassing childhood pictures.

I don’t know what possessed me to enter.

Because what began as this:

I wish that t-shirt still fit.

Somehow turned into, well, click here to find out.

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

Kvetching, Project Management, Uncategorized

It’s All in My Noodle, Right?

Go Jules Go

No no. This isn’t an Italian recipe post. It’s a post about a humiliating team-building exercise involving pasta. Obviously.

As some of you know, I spend my days working as a certified Project Management Professional in the pharmaceutical industry. Because what else would a gal with a Creative Writing degree and an aversion to doctors do? Don’t get me wrong – it’s a good job for many reasons, and I’m grateful to have it. The people I work with aren’t even nincompoops.

But there’s one thing I hate.

And that’s Team-Building Exercises.

No matter how well we know each other, or how team-y we’ve become, they won’t give it a rest. On Thursday, we had yet another staff meeting, featuring yet another mysterious team-building exercise. After seeing the draft agenda, I immediately tried to devise ways to get out early, before the game show questions or trust falls could begin. I still had 20 of those heroin cough suppressants; maybe I would O.D.

In the end, because I have a tendency to think one false move will get me canned, I went along with it. Again. This time the team-building exercise was a spin on the show Minute to Win It. They divided us into 4 teams, and we played 10 rounds. In each round, a single team member from the 4 teams had to complete a task in 60 seconds or less. Every time you did, you earned a point for your team. The winning team members all got $10 iTunes gift cards.

Not bad. And you know what? It was -I can’t believe I’m about to say this- fun.

Watching coworkers try to unravel rolls of streamers by flapping their arms like deranged flamingos (or in one man’s case, a flag squad champion), and others try to get a cookie from their forehead to their mouth without touching it, was breathtaking. In the good way.

Oh yes. I yucked it up.

Until my turn.

But my task didn’t look too hard.

I had to put an uncooked piece of spaghetti in my mouth, and try to ‘string’ 5 small pieces of penne on it – without using my hands. I put the spaghetti strand in my mouth and knelt on the ground in front of the table holding the penne, trying to ignore the fact that multiple people had their cameras out.

The timer started and the pasta wobbled between my teeth like Lindsay Lohan on the set of Glee. The circumference of the penne now looked like a pinhole. I somehow managed to get the first piece of penne on the spaghetti, then almost dropped it. “Aw, she’s shaking,” one team member called out, while another added, “You can do it! Don’t worry! Don’t look at the clock!” With 10 seconds left, and nearly a dozen people hovering over me, I had only gotten two of the five pieces of penne on the spaghetti. I was a pasta-stringing failure. How had I made it this far in life?

My teammates graciously applauded me, and I, red-faced and sweaty, tried to shrink into the background. I was 30 years old, for the love of all that’s vodka, and this was just a silly game. So why did it take a half an hour before I stopped wanting to cry?

Does this happen to you? Do you get freaked out in ‘public’ situations like this? How do you feel about team-building exercises?

P.S. – In case you were wondering, we came in second place.

P.P.S. – Screw you, team-building exercises. I never liked you.

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

TV Junkie, Uncategorized

How I Feel About Naked “Girls” on HBO

Go Jules Go

Girls is HBO’s latest 30-minute dramedy, airing Sundays at 10:30pm EST. Starring 4 young women trying to navigate the post-college waters in New York City, at first glance it sounds like the prequel to Sex and the City. Not even close. This show is awkward, edgy, and even a little perverted. And it doesn’t give a scratch about shoes.

The most gripping tidbit about this new show is its creator, Lena Dunham. She’s only 26 and oh yeah, did I mention she’s also the star and [typically] the director? Judd Apatow, the show’s executive producer,  discovered Dunham after watching her independent film, Tiny Furniture (2010), and was so impressed he emailed her. (Dunham claims she thought it was a prank, because the email was titled, “From Judd Apatow,” and, seriously, who does that?)

Apatow and Dunham. …What’s that? Oh, I know. I should totally be there.

Apatow interviewed Dunham for a short feature on HBO, and mentioned one of the resounding lessons I’ve learned from starting this blog – humiliation makes the best comedy. (Apatow also offers another brilliant nugget: if you’re writing a script you’re going to star in, write yourself eating the food you want to eat. They have to bring it to you.)

It took me a few episodes to decide how I felt about Girls because, as I hinted, it’s a little twisted. Dunham is unabashed and -literally- bares it all. It’s not a show about geek-chic girls or career ladder-climbers, but it’s raw and funny. As Dunham has said, it’s a show about smart girls making stupid choices.  It’s one of those rare gems that’s hyper-real; sadly, the kind that usually gets canceled after a single season (think My So-Called Life or Freaks and Geeks). I believe today’s viewers are much better equipped to handle a show like this, though, and am confident it will thrive.

Have you seen Girls? Do you think there’s such a thing as a fictional show that’s too real? Where do you stand on fiction vs. memoir/soaps vs. reality TV?

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

Photo Credits

  • Photo #1 (cast) –  hbo.com
  • Photo #2 (Apatow and Dunham) – gq.com
Just For Fun, Lists, Uncategorized

How Would You Spend Your Fantasy Fortune?

Go Jules Go
This upsets me more than you could possibly ever know.

Sometimes, when I’m not busy fantasizing about getting paid to blog about guilty pleasures or chipmunk tea parties, or asking myself why on EARTH anyone would put a scorpion in a paperweight, I like to think about money.

Money is very important to me, because I like living in a house and going to movie theaters where they serve you beer.

I often ask myself: What would I do if I had REAL

I’d really have to watch out for Zeal.

money? More specifically, 1 million dollars? Would I allow myself to indulge in any guilty pleasures (like, I don’t know, say, a state-of-the-art karaoke machine)?

My answer might surprise you. But you can blame the cost of living in New Jersey. Here’s what I’d do:

1. Pay off the mortgage. Quit my job.

2. Pay off the mortgage.

3. Hoard Invest the remaining $100. …Kidding. But I would invest the rest.

4. That’s it. (Unless my investments pay off, then I would travel, travel, travel!)

I know. My answer is so boring. Which is why I really want hear YOUR answer.

So, if you were given 1 million U.S. dollars (after taxes – it’s all yours), what would you do? How would you spend it? Any guilty pleasures? Would you loan/give any to family or friends (…you would, wouldn’t you? Don’t you ever watch those specials about lottery winners? You are so one step away from wiring money to a “bank” in Nigeria)?

Photo Credits

Food, Marriage, Uncategorized

Why I’m a Terrible Wife

Go Jules Go

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

TV Junkie, Wipe the Drool

Dear Tom from “Restaurant: Impossible”

Go Jules Go

Dear Tom from Restaurant: Impossible,

You’re nice and I like you, Tom.

Some people might be reading this and scratching their heads. I say ‘some people’ like a lot of people will read this. But my blog, much like your career, is grossly underappreciated.

Anyway, Tom. I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re pretty special. You’re the unsung hero of The Food Network’s Restaurant: Impossible. That strange-looking, beefy guy seems to get the lion’s share of the attention. But all he has to do is yell

I think you’re taller than him, Tom.

at people. He even yells at you, Tom! You’re the man who makes it all happen! You turn that failing restaurant into a shining masterpiece, with only two minutes and six dollars.

You are sexy grace under pressure, Tom, but I worry you will soon crack if someone doesn’t give you the credit you so deserve.

I was so proud of you, Tom, when you decided to branch out from your carpentry responsibilities, and take on the design, too. Who needs that petite brunette, right? I’m sure you were sick of someone telling you lime green is a good idea. And look at those lamp shades you made from scrap wood! You can do anything, Tom.

Look, Tom. YOU did this.

Please tell that man with the muscles that you want a raise or you’re walking your wares right over to HGTV.

Love and chipmunks remote controlling the universe,

gojulesgo

~*~*~*~*~*

What’s your favorite food/restaurant-themed show right now?

Photo Credits