Puzzle 307, You Have Ruined Me.

Remember back when you were 8 years old and the cool kid in your class at school would have a fantastic themed birthday party. Everyone in class would be handed a card with the Looney Tunes gang inviting you to a good old-fashioned b-day party. And even if you didn’t want to go to the party, you had to. It was the event of the year.

With gift-wrapped Barbie (or Hot Wheels cars depending on the sex of the birthday person) in hand you’d slowly make your way to their front door. Very hesitantly you’d ring the doorbell and be welcomed into a Looney Tunes heaven. Bugs, Daffy, Taz, the whole gang was there to welcome you. After 2 hours of Looney Tunes cake, ice cream, and pin the beak on Daffy Duck it would finally be time to go home. As you exited the party the birthday girl (or boy) would reluctantly hand you a goodie bag. You’d take it and maintain your composure and wait until you got to your car to rip that thing open and see what was inside. Themed pencils, erasers, a some candy was the norm, but sometimes, if you were lucky, there would be a slide puzzle in there.

8 little squares inside one large square, forming some kind of animal picture. You’d slide those little squares around until the original image was indistinguishable and then you’d set forth on your journey to put that picture back together. Hours would be spent sliding square to the right and then back to left, up and down and every which way you could. For a week that would be your obsession. You were determined to get that picture back and to no avail, you were unsuccessful. Each and every day you would strain your fingers to solve this puzzle until eventually you either popped out the pieces and put them back in the right order, or just got angry and threw the darn thing away. I was convinced that those puzzles were of the devil. Until I found the grown-up version of slide puzzles.

Several months ago I downloaded a free game on my phone. A harmless little game called Unblock Me. The goal is to shift brown block around and clear a path for the red block to escape through a hole in the wall. It started out easy enough. 3 or 4 moves and I was done and onto the next level. I breezed through the beginner levels and made it to intermediate. Then I got to puzzle #307.

This in itself is depressing because that means I’ve successfully played at least 306 puzzles. That’s way too many puzzles for a 23 year old to have played. (Realistically, I should be out socializing and whatnot) But this puzzle 307 has been sent to ruin my life. For the past 3 weeks I have attempted to win. Every spare second I have, I slide those stupid brown block around. I move them in every possible direction, only to have them return to the exact space in which they started.

I cannot beat this puzzle. Every time I decide to quit, it sucks me back in. I don’t know what to do. It consumes me. I see puzzle 307 in my sleep. It’s become my obsession. Even now, as I write this, I’m thinking up a new game plan to win. And it’s not going to happen. I don’t know why I keep trying.

I haven’t seen the sun in weeks because I’m constantly trying to outsmart this app. It has become my foe and I have to defeat it. If it takes me another 3 months so be it, I will succeed. Puzzle 307….YOU WILL NOT DEFEAT ME!

But seriously guys, I need help. Either help on solving the puzzle or mental help in the form of an intervention. I’ll accept either at this point.

To Whoever Stole My Mike Sweeney Card: Give It Back!

 

In second grade, I had a crush on Mike Sweeney.

I was 7, he was not. He was also probably married and had children at that point as well, but that didn’t stop me. Because first of all, I was…7, 7 year olds do not have a concept of what is socially acceptable.

At this time in my life Mike Sweeney was the catcher for the Kansas City Royals. Also, at this time in my life, the Kansas City Royals were terrible. You could pretty much get tickets to a game as long as you promised to not boo the home team. (or for like 5 bucks, either way) Because of this, a large portion of my summer was spent at Royals games.

In an effort to ‘woo’ their fans the Royals had autograph days where for an hour before the game certain players would sign autographs for adorable little children and uncomfortably obsessed adults. And on one particular game day, the player of choice was none other than that hunky catcher, Mike Sweeney.

My little 7-year-old heart could barely take it. Standing in line behind the 12 other people who chose to attend the game that evening, waiting in anxious anticipation for the man himself to show up. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity later, there he was. In his uniform and everything ready to sign a stack of team printed cards.

Finally, finally it was my turn. Hands shaking, I made my way up to the table. I said nothing. I probably just looked at him with a goofy grin. I was a shy 7-year-old. (Let’s get real, that’s how I would react if the same scenario was happening right now, 16 year later) Then the unthinkable happened. He asked me my name. I didn’t know how to react, but then my brain finally stepped into play and I quietly mumbled, “…Amanda…” Then he handed it to me with brilliant pearly whites shining. He handed me my newest prized possession. I took it in my still shaking hand. On this card THE Mike Sweeney had written:

“To: Amanda
Jer. 29:11
♡ Mike Sweeney”

I nearly passed out. As a 7-year-old I was pretty convinced that this “♡” meant Mike Sweeney was my new boyfriend. But you know what guys, I don’t think it did mean that. I’m pretty sure it just meant he was being nice to the shy, pathetic 2nd grader who didn’t know how to speak, but whatever.

This baseball card has been a priceless piece of my life since that day. And now, now it has gone AWOL. Somewhere between moving from Kansas to Tennessee, Mike Sweeney vanished. I don’t want to overreact, but I’m 110% sure that someone stole it to make my life sad and meaningless. Without that card how will I ever prove that Mike Sweeney once, for 5 seconds of his life, knew my name? I need it back and I need it back bad.

Without this card, my childhood is lost. So what I need is for whoever wanted to ruin my life, to return it to me ASAP. I won’t even be mad at you. But without Mike Sweeney, my childhood never happened. Do you want that on your conscience? No, you do not. Plus I’m going to just keep whining about it if I never find this card. No one wants to deal with my whining for the rest of their lives. I’m a really annoying whiner and that’s probably why I don’t have a husband, but I digress.

So in conclusion, if you find a Mike Sweeney card addressed to Amanda and you are not Amanda, it’s mine and I want, no I NEED, it back.

Also if you happen to be Mike Sweeney, could you maybe just send me a new one so this whole messy thing can be behind me? Thanks!

 

 

How To Survive A Heat Wave

It’s hot. I will not argue with anyone about this. The air is hot, the ground is hot. I’m pretty sure even swimming pools are hot.

I’ve noticed however, that people aren’t sure what to do with themselves when it’s hot. There are really two schools of thought in dealing with this delightful heat wave. First you can do as I do, and hunker down in the air condition only leaving the house for life-sustaining sustenance, or you can do everything you normally do, but with less clothes on.

I currently live in Nashville. They love their crusted foods around here especially if it is fried and/or topped with bacon. So, needless to say, the people around here are not, dare I say it, delicate little creatures. I have seen things that I never want to see again, things that are burned into my memory and will haunt my dreams forever. It’s as if some people just don’t care, which I guess that’s not bad, having your own mind, but sometimes, sometimes they should care.

And that is where I come in. I have created Amanda’s Top 10 Rules For Surviving a Heat Wave

1. If your back/front is hairier than your head, always, and I do mean ALWAYS, wear a shirt.

2. Along those same lines, if you can’t pull your pants up over your belly, you know, wear a shirt.

3. If your shorts resemble a pair of underpants, don’t wear them on the outside. Maybe just let them remain as they are, underpants.

4. A swimming suit is not proper outerwear, even for Walmart. Grab a t shirt and some shorts, throw them on. Voi-la. Proper attire.

5. Whiskey will not help you stay away from dehydration. Stopping from mown your lawn to have a smoke and a drink is probably the worst idea.

6. If you’re wearing jean shorts, maybe stay away from the knee-high black leather boots, ya?

7. Once you’ve completely soaked a t, feel free to change into a dry one. No one will be mad.

8. Confederate flag bikinis have never been and will never be, in fashion.

9. Socks with sandals? Really? It’s warm enough for sandals, what’s with the socks? Maybe use some common sense.

10. If your toes point in different directions or your toenails are more than 1 mm. thick, stick to closed-toed shoes. (This one may mostly be personal preference. I hate feet. So much.)

 

So there you go guys. Follow these rules and we can make it through this. And we won’t even need a puke bucket.

NO! Not Andy Griffith!

Andy Griffith

One of the good ones. Everyone loved him. Girls wanted to date him. Men wanted to be him. Middle aged housewives loved when he solved mysteries. There’s not a soul on this earth who hasn’t seen at least one episode of the Andy Griffith Show or Matlock. Shoot, I was not even in existence during its prime and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen every episode.

For 8 seasons we watched him put up with a quirky deputy, a spastic aunt/housekeeper and raise a freckled-faced, red-headed boy. Not one kid growing up didn’t wish that their dad was Andy Taylor. Opie was always learning hard lessons, but when they came from Andy they didn’t seem that hard. Not only did he have a heart of gold, but he could scare the pants off of the ‘bad guys’ that came through Mayberry. And he could handle Ernest T. Bass while no one else could.

Then he moved on to being a criminal defense attorney. There was not a crime that Benjamin Matlock could not solve. I tell you what, if I ever needed a lawyer, Matlock would be my first choice. That guy was a genius.

And today, Andy Griffith left us. He left a big hole in all of us. Who’s going to teach us life lessons while fishing? Now who’s going to go to Floyd‘s Barber shop and shoot the breeze with the town rascals? Who’s going to get me out of jail time after I’ve been wrongfully accused of a crime? No one. No one can ever take the place of Andy Griffith.

Farewell Sheriff Taylor. See you on the other side.

And maybe when I get there, I’ll be able to whistle. Then we can whistle the Andy Griffith show theme song together.

Amanda, The Entrepreneur.

I’ll be honest guys, I don’t have a lot going on right now. I’m not using my college degree and I’m currently working at a job which I could have acquired with solely a high school diploma. Unless by some miracle, a multi-millionaire proposes marriage to me, I’m not exactly going to be raking in the bucks. And that’s why I’ve decided to become an entrepreneur/inventor.

I have many great ideas. First and foremost: NERF Furniture

Why is this not already a thing? Nerf is fantastic. Straight from wikipedia, “Nerf foam is made from a solid, spongy cellular material. To produce it, polyester resin reacts with another compound in the presence of CO2 from another reaction. It is this gas that creates open pockets within the polyurethane that, in turn, make the material soft and light.” Now, I’m not entirely sure about all those science words, but I do know that solid, spongy, soft, and light are the exact adjectives I want my couch to possess. Imagine, a couch that you can lift with one hand, yet when you sit upon it, it doesn’t sink in, but supports you while also providing a softness that only NERF can. Granted I broke my finger with a NERF football once, I still think it’s a great idea. I’ve even gone as far as to sketch out the pioneer NERF furnitures:


So, ya know, if any of you guys work for Hasbro, well, you know where to find me.

And my second, and possibly greatest idea is this:

Jágr’s Jágurt© , frozen yogurt with none other than one, Jaromír Jágr as the spokesman/face of the brand. Let’s be honest, the guy is not getting any younger. His hockey career is going to come to an end soon and he’s going to need something to do. That’s where I come in. He could have yogurt stores across the world. He’s Czechoslovakian, do they even have frozen yogurt in Czechoslovakia? No, they don’t. I looked into it and all they do is eat pork and drink beer. We* could bring fro-yo to central Europe. Europeans are very rich**, they will buy anything, especially a product with one of their own on the front. I would be an overnight millionaire and then my good pal, Jaromír would have money to help him survive post NHL stardom. Win-win situation for all.

I’m going to be completely honest, pretty much all of my energy is being focused upon making this a thing right now. If I could get Jaromir Jagr on my team, well, I might poop my pants with excitement.

So Jags, if you’re into fro-yo, you also know where to find me. (seriously though, why do you keep ignoring my tweets? I’m getting the feeling that you find me obnoxious. No one finds me obnoxious. So stop ignoring me.) Also don’t forget, I picked you as the June Dreamboat of the Month, no pressure or anything. If you decline on this offer don’t come whining to me when you’re 55 and out of money because I’ll probably have moved onto a much better idea like a can of dip called, Giroux Choux.***

 

 

*Jags and I, obviously.
**I’m obviously an ignorant American.
***I do not promote the use of chewing tobacco, mostly because it’s gross.

iTunes, You Are A Delight

How can I be inspired if you won’t let me keep Journey?

Hi iTunes!

Amanda here! Or perhaps you know me by my username, adbadley. You probably also know that we have a fantastic relationship. I hear a song on the radio that I particularly enjoy, you are the first person I come to. I hear rumors of a new John Mayer album, you are my number one contact. What? Drake has a new single? Hello iTunes! You have music from A-Z, everything I could ever dream of, it’s right there in your library.

And you even keep my guilty pleasures a secret. No one has to know about that Bon Jovi album I purchased or that time I bought Don’t Stop Believin’ solely to inspire myself to greatness. You don’t tell anyone. And I appreciate that iTunes, I do. We have many secrets. Unfortunately that is where our great relationship ends because you have also been a source of great anger and rage in my life.

Here’s the thing. It’s cool that iPods hold the 57 days worth of music just like you, and it’s super awesome that I can carry all 57 days with me at all times in a tiny little metal box. But you know what’s not neat? When my computer dies and I can no longer sync my iPod to you. You are so very kind as to give me the option of ‘deleting all music’, but I don’t want to do that. Why would you even think I wanted to even consider that? Are you an idiot? I spent years building up my music library so as to have a song to fit every mood and every situation. If I delete all my music and start over how will the people driving next to me know that I’m feeling melancholy if I’m not blasting some Adele?

Sure you’re really great at helping the artists get their money for their music and what not, but why can’t I take the songs that are on my iPod and put them wherever I freaking want? It’s my iTunes account, it’s my iPod, it’s my computer. I should be able to do with them what I want. If I wanted to flush my iPod down the toilet I could, but if I want to sync my iPod with a new computer, no can do. Why do you do this to me? It’s like you want to hurt me.

I have a tendency to break computers and every time that happens, I have to load the songs that I have purchased onto the new computer, delete absolutely everything off of my iPod and then start from scratch. But I can only do that 5 times. Once I’ve broken 5 computer and moved to the 6th one, well I’m just flat out of luck. And what about all of those cd’s that I spent collecting throughout my junior high and high school years? Well I have to reload every single one of them to you on my new computer. I didn’t even buy those songs from you, so why can’t you transfer them, huh? Is it strictly because you want to make my life miserable? Because, let me tell you, it is working.

So I guess what I’m saying here iTunes is:

a. You’re super cool cause you have all the music I could possibly ever want to purchase.
b. It’s also super cool that I can take the music from you and put it on my iPod to allow me to carry an entire music library in my pocket.
c. Despite all your awesome qualities, I sort of hate you.
d. Why can’t I sync my iPod to whatever computer I want?
e. Is this Steve Job’s doing? I heard he was sort of jerk. It has nothing to do with copyrights does it? He probably wanted to make everyone’s life miserable just for his own joy.
f. Even though you suck and I had to delete my iPod and start completely over, I’m still not going to end my relationship with you, because I have attachment issues.

So I guess this is goodbye for now. I’ll be busy for the next 6 weeks reloading all my cd’s onto you. But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I hear a new Jason Aldean song on the radio.

I just can’t quit you!

I Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Touch Electronics


I have a lot of talents. And I mean A LOT.

For instance, I’m very good at forgetting passwords. Technically that’s not my fault though. They* say to have a different password for every account you have. So I have a password for Facebook, one for twitter, another one for me email, a 4th one for my online banking and so on. Thus it is understandable why I forget every password at least once a week.

I’m also really good at getting hangnails and then picking at them until they bleed. Again, not really my fault. The things are incredibly irritating.

I can quote stupid movies. That is a very useful talent for one to possess. People love a good “count on pee-drinking crap-face” now and again. It’s a great one for parties.

I can make a mean chocolate pie.

I know a lot of useless hockey statistics. I would say that could come in handy if you were on Who Wants to be a Millionaire and had a hockey related question. You could use me as your phone a friend, but they changed the way that show works, so this talent is not even helpful for that now.

And my best talent is purchasing expensive electronic gadgets and ruining them. I’m super great at that.

It started my freshman year of college. I had a dell desktop computer. It broke. 6 months after I purchased it, it just stopped working. Super.

Junior year of college, I bought myself a dell laptop. It was green and super awesome. Guess what? It stopped working as well. But this time I was smarter, I had a warranty. I got my delightful green laptop fixed. Then something fantastic happened. I dropped it. Right off my desk during class, just dropped it right onto the floor. So after that the screen just sort of fell backwards when open, rather than standing erect as it should.

My junior year of college I also decided to invest in an iPod touch. Did you know those things do not like nail polish remover? One would assume that they probably wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop me from dumping a whole bottle of it on my iPod. Also did you know that apple warranty’s do not cover that sort of accident? Who knew that stupidity wasn’t covered.

More recently I purchased another laptop. I wish I could say that this purchase was more successful. But nope. It fell off my bed a week after I bought it. Aaand now the screen doesn’t work. At all. I might as well not even have a screen and just sit with a keyboard and only a keyboard. That’s how useful it is to me. It is incredible difficult to use a computer when you can’t see what is on the screen. In fact, I might venture to say, it is impossible.

And that brings me to the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life.

I purchased a Macbook. My computer/Apple product track record is not good. In fact,it’s terrible. I break everything. I don’t know why I did what I did. I’m only setting myself up for failure here. I go and purchase one of the most expense laptops that exist and decided it would be safe for me to have? What is wrong with me? Although thus far, I’ve had it for a 3 and a half hours and it’s still working so, not too shabby.

I won’t be surprised if it suddenly combusts right in front of me. Or a tornado comes and blows it away. This would not shock me, mainly because I am me. And that is what I do. I break things. It is my one true talent in life. If you need something broken, I’ll do it. I don’t even need to touch it. I just need to be in its presence and poof! Broken. I am so good at breaking valuable items.

And that is why immediately after posting this I’m going to put this Macbook back in it’s box and never touch it ever, ever again. I can’t break it if it’s not in my hands right?

And even if I do manage to break it without touching it, I purchased the 3 year Apple Care plan. So suck on that, computer! You won’t win this one!

*I like to imagine ‘they’ is a collective group of men who wear suspenders and snort when they laugh. This makes life more fun for me.

Oh You Want A Whole Litter Of Kids? Well Don’t!

Come friends. Join me on a visual journey of delight, intrigue and also terror.

First, I need everyone to clear their minds of all thoughts. Except for the ones about how great I am. Those can stay. Now close your eyes. The journey is about to begin.

Imagine yourself in a room with an area of approximately 200 square feet. The temperature is a balmy 85 degrees. Picture yourself sitting in a chair 10 inches off the ground at a table that is too short for your legs to fit under. You are surrounded by 9 creatures. These creatures stand 3 feet off the ground and scream. They scream a lot. Shrill, deafening screams. They have sharp talons that are used solely for evil. And they soil themselves at least twice an hour. Snot drips from their noses and their faces are covered in dirt. As much as you want to stay away from these banshees, you can’t. They climb on you. They wipe their faces on you. They do everything short of actually fusing their body to yours. You see, these creatures do not know about personal space and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. You are responsible for these 9 disgusting creatures. They depend on you for life and sustenance, yet they don’t thank you. They just throw things and leave their boogers on your jeans. As time passes the room that began as 200 square feet shrinks to a mere 10 square feet, pushing the beasts closer to you and raising the temperature to approximately 900 degrees. And finally, after 9 grueling hours of defending your internal organs, you are permitted to leave. But there’s a catch. You have to return in 12 hours and do it all again.

Ok. You may open your eyes. That was a pretty terrible visual journey right? Doesn’t seem realistic at all, huh? Well you’re incorrect. Right now you’re probably thinking to yourself, “My gosh! She just described the portal to Hell!” Wrong again!

What I’ve just described is my job! Otherwise known as the worlds best form of birth control!

20120607-183502.jpg

Thinking of having kids? Wanting a whole litter? Come, spend the day with me! After 5 minutes your ears will be bleeding! Just gushing blood from all the shouting and tattling!

That’s not enough to deter you from procreating? Well how about when they sneeze directly in your mouth? Can’t deny the joy of that experience!

Still think kids are the bomb-diggity? Have you ever cleaned poop out of a 3 year olds underpants? I have. It is not pleasant.

You like loud talkers? I got 9 for you to borrow. You sit within 3 feet of one and your deaf for rest of your life.

Oh but wait! There’s more. Nose bleeds! Chewed up food! Pee on the carpet! Sound intriguing still? Well then go ahead! Have a litter of kids. Also make sure you book your trip to the psych ward early because you’ll definitely be needing it!

I hope this public service announcement will prevent several of you from attempting to give birth to nonuplets (it’s a thing. Google it) I do not recommend 9 children of the same age. Shoot, I don’t recommend 9 children at all. Probably just stick with just 1 or 2 if you insist on procreating. And certainly if you’re going to have 9, my gosh, spread those suckers out!

[In all seriousness though, my job is pretty great. Shoot, I get paid to have the maturity of a 3 year old and dig for worms. Plus sometimes they do great things like wear their jeans backwards. Can’t get that working in a cubicle.]

I’m Sorry, But Are You Singing A Song About A Pontoon?

Just yesterday I was driving to work, when suddenly the most unsettling thing happened to me.

I was minding my own business, listening to the top country hits of today on WSIX The Big 98, and then it happened. A catchy Little Big Town tune started playing. At least it seemed catchy. My head may have even begun to bop along and then the magical voices in the radio began to sing.

“Back this hitch up into the water 
Untie all the cables and rope 
Step onto the astro turf 
Get yourself a coozie 
Let’s go”

Pardon me? What hitch? I only know of one hitch and that’s a movie starring Will Smith and Kevin James. Is that what you’re talking about? It was a pretty terrible movie, so I hope not. And AstroTurf? Are we playing baseball at the Rogers Centre in Toronto? They have AstroTurf. (FYI, my computer says you are spelling astro turf wrong. It should look like this AstroTurf) Coozie? Did you really just use the phrase, “get yourself a coozie” in a song, that’s being played on the radio? What the heck am I listening to?

“Who said anything about skiin’? 
Floatin’ is all I wanna do 
You can climb the ladder 
Just don’t rock the boat while I barbecue”

Um. No one said anything about “skiin”, as you call it. We’re talking about a terrible movie about matchmaking and playing baseball in Canada. This is your song, shouldn’t you be aware of this? Idiot. And what are we floatin’ on? Turf? You can’t float on turf, it’s made of plastic. Also what ladder are you climbing? Are we floating in the air? Is this song about doing drugs?? Oh. You’re in a boat. Now it all makes sense? (nope)

“On the pontoon 
Makin’ waves and catchin’ rays up on the roof 
Jumpin’ out the back, don’t act like you don’t want to 
Party in slow motion 
Out here in the open 
Mmmmmmm…motorboatin’ “

Ok, so you’re on a pontoon. Which, since I’m clearly not as country as you, I looked up and it looks something like this: So needless to say I’m having a problem with the whole “catchin’ rays up on the roof” thing. There’s no roof here. I’m really starting to think this song is about drugs. Also if I jump out of the back are you going to stop “making waves”? I don’t want to be abandoned in the middle of the lake/ocean/river/wherever you are. Sure you’re partying in slow motion, but I’m not a real strong swimmer, I probably couldn’t catch up. Ummm….you’re ending the chorus with motorboatin’? That’s a bold choice there guys.

“(Who who who)”

I don’t know. I thought it was probably you guys, who were singing the song, but now I don’t know.

“Reach your hand down into the cooler 
Don’t drink it if the mountains aren’t blue 
Try to keep it steady as you recline on your black inner-tube”

Ok. So booze seems to be playing a role in this song. That definitely makes sense. Also did you get money from whatever beer company makes those cans with the mountains that turn blue? YOu should if you didn’t. But I’m confused. When did you get into a inner-tube? And is the cooler floating? Are you still…motorboatin’?

“Pontoon 
Makin’ waves and catchin’ rays up on the roof 
Jumpin’ out the back, don’t act like you don’t want to 
Party in slow motion 
Out here in the open 
Mmmmmm…motorboatin’ “

Yep. Still motorboatin’. Good to know.

“(Who who who) 
(Who who who)”

If you don’t know, I’m certain that I have no idea.

“5 mile an hour with aluminum side 
Wood panelin’ with a water slide 
Can’t beat the heat, so let’s take a ride”

Wait. Your pontoon has a water slide? And wood paneling. Hold on. Let me google.
Ok. Yep, those are a thing. You must have spent a fortune on your pontoon. And I take back my rude comment about not having a roof. This one clearly has a roof. I apologize for assuming you were an idiot.

“On the pontoon 
Makin’ waves and catchin’ rays up on the roof 
Jumpin’ out the back, don’t act like you don’t want to 
Party in slow motion 
I’m out here in the open 
Mmmmmmm…motorboatin'”

So weird.

“On the pontoon 
(Who who who) 
On the pontoon 
(Who who who)”

Again, if you don’t know who’s on your pontoon, I’m sure I don’t. but you should probably not let strangers onto your pontoon.

“Back this hitch out into the water 
On the pontoon 
(Who who who) 
(Who who who)”

Aaaand, now we’re back to a terrible Kevin James movie. Kevin James. Kevin James. I said KEVIN JAMES!! (see what I did there?)

This was quite literally the most confusing 3 minutes and 40 seconds of my life. Are these rednecks? Are they country singers? Is this actually a country song? The song had nothing about heartbreak or dogs in it, so ya, not a country song. Who wrote this and who told Little Big Town it wold be a a good idea to sing this? Someone here in Nashville has dropped the ball and let this one through. I’m pretty upset about this and I’ll probably be sending a forcefully written letter to them soon to let them know my opinion on the stupidity of this song.*

So I’m just going to save you some time. Don’t buy this song on iTunes. You’ll just be left with a confused look on your face and $1.29 less than you had previously.

[Turns out they just premiered the video on people.com today. If I had seen the video first, so many of my questions could have been answered. Also that blonde lady has HUGE hair. So anyway, if you’re curious go here]

*Nope.

Did You Forget About Mother’s Day? Don’t Fret! I’ve Got Your Solution!

Today is Mother’s day.

Today is the day you are supposed to lavish fine gifts upon the woman who expelled you from her womb.  The day you say,
“Thanks for putting up with my inability to put dirty clothes in laundry baskets and snotty kleenexs in trashcans for 18 years. And thanks for continuing to put up with these endearing qualities as I continue living with you as an adult because I have no future goals in mind for my life*.

It would seem that it is nearly impossible to forget about mother’s day, what with mothers doing their best to constantly remind nag you that mother’s day is nearing. However that does not mean that we, as their children, are listening to them. And the next thing you know, it’s today and you have yet to purchase that hilarious, yet sentimental Hallmark card for your madre. You might as well not even attempt to get one now. All that’s left are these:

UCCK!! Gag me with a spoon.  No one wants to purchase that, and I’m pretty positive mothers don’t want to receive that**. If there aren’t any hilarious cards related to farts left you might as well abandon ship at that Target card aisle and give up on making your mother happy.

But wait!! Don’t give up just yet! I have the solution to your card-less mothers day.

  • Make a handprint painting. Mother’s love handprints. Sure you may be a grownup with an adult-sized hand, that doesn’t matter. They freaking love the things! Especially if you add an adorable poem with it.
  • Make a homemade coupon book. Fill it with things like ‘1 Free Living room Vacuuming Session’, ‘1 Day Free of Obnoxious Behavior’ (make sure there is only one of these in the book. It’s really hard to not be obnoxious for a whole 24 hours) or ‘1 Free Shoney’s Hot Fudge Cake Valid Only on Mothers Day’ (This is a trick, I saw a Shoney’s commercial. They’d get one free even without a coupon today Mothers do not need to know this.)
  • Bake her a cake. Fact. Mothers love cake. Especially carrot.
  • Don’t call her old for one whole 24 hour period. She will love it!!
  • Along those lines, call her “mom” and not by her first name. Perhaps I’m the only one who does this, but I’m sure it would shock my mother if I called her Mom instead of Susan.
  • Make a homemade corsage for her to wear throughout the day. It’s too late to buy one at the florist but crumple up some tissue paper, throw a safety pin on the back of that thing and there you have it: corsage!
  • And last but not least, make your own hilarious yet slightly sentimental card, just like I did!***

I’m 110% sure every single one of those ideas up there will just make your mom have the best mother’s day EVER. No doubt in my mind. But in reality, as long as you don’t wipe boogers on the placemats or spill grape juice on the white carpet, your mom will be as pleased as punch!

 

 

*You don’t have to say this EXACTLY, but you know, hypothetically speaking, if you are a 23 year old girl still living at home, you might want to say something similar.
**Some might. I apologize if you enjoy sentiment. I do not intend to offend. Which coincidentally is the title for my upcoming rap album, A-Bad Intend to Offend
***Disclaimer: This is a replica of a real card that exists at Target. I wanted to buy it for my mother.  I didn’t. I have regretted that decision every moment of this day. Also don’t sue me over copyright infringement please.