Bad Coffee Joke

November 25, 2010 at 3:35 PM (Musings) (, , )

Happy Thanksgiving!  On to something much more important: my hit-and-miss sense of humour.

While I’m home for the holiday, Mom was great enough to save some Starbucks coffee for me.  What I didn’t realise was that this actually an accomplishment for her: the Colombian coffee, a medium roast, was too strong for her. Starbucks Kenya coffee label elephant For her to palate the stuff, she had to cut it with Maxwell House.  I know, I shed a tear when I heard it, too.  My response?

“Mom, be happy you didn’t get Kenya [a bold coffee]: that stuff so strong it can wake up the elephant on the bag!”

Per usual, I thought it was a hit, but everyone else seemed to miss it.

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xkcd: Book Burning

June 7, 2010 at 7:38 PM (Musings) (, , , , )

Once again, xkcd almost hits the nail on the head with today’s comic:

xkcd book burning

I say “almost” because I don’t think books are dying.  There is something rewarding that accompanies possessing a collection of books – as convenient as the Kindle or iPad may be.  Print newspapers, however (see image text), are a different story.  How many people collect those (that said, I’m sure there’s a cult of newspaper-hoarders lurking out there somewhere)?

Today’s Tunes
X&Y, Coldplay

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A Social Experiment

November 20, 2009 at 5:08 AM (Happenings) (, )

[Read: I Was Bored And Under the Mild Influence of Alcohol…]

Not too long ago, I blogged about being lonely in Boston because all my friends had moved away after graduation.  Two posts ago, actually.  And yes, I linked to it.  Sue me.

Very shortly after that, my roommates and I were spending a quiet evening in, enjoying some wine . . . and some more wine.  Typically when this occurs we are more easily amused than usual, and perhaps a tiny bit reckless (but never to the point of waking up the next morning severely regretting the previous evening’s activities).

For whatever reason we were discussing the Cultural Reference Guru’s boyfriend’s roommate, whom we were betting included his delightful dog in pictures for his online dating profiles (we lead very, very exciting lives).  We were all so convinced, that the only reasonable course of action would be to hunt this man down on said dating site.  While the Guru began thinking of preferences that would include the chap in search results, I decided to fill out the personality profile, just to see who would turn up.  After five minutes wasted on Likert scale questions, I thought of a better way to spend my very valuable time: answer the same questions on a site that wouldn’t ask me for money.

I had seen various adverts in MBTA stations for PlentyOfFish.com, which promises to delete users who are unfit to date.  However, like most ads wallpapering mass transit stations, I had more or less blocked it from conscious memory.  However, a month or so earlier, a friend had mentioned that she’d actually met someone interesting on the site, and that had placed it back on my radar.

That moment, there with my roommates, a little on the unrealistically boisterous side, seemed like as good a time as any to sign up:

“Whatever, I have nothing better to do!  I’m signing up!”

My other roommate, the Globetrotter, saw the potential situation I was getting myself into and reacted accordingly:

“Wait, it’s free!?  Let’s do it!”

Another ten minutes of Likert scale questions later, the Globetrotter and I were supposed to draft our profiles.  We had to pitch ourselves to the masses of eligible singles.

Slap-happy drunk.  Clearly we were making our best and brightest decisions.

Way too much time later, I had set up my profile . . . 100% free of typographical errors.

Two minutes later, I had three messages.  It must have been the marabou-trimmed pirate hat in my picture.

. . . And after glancing at the hour, you’re going to have to check back later for all the fun characters who have contacted me so far.  It’ll be a good way to kill time.  Promise.

Tonight’s Tunes
Aha Shake Heartbreak, Kings of Leon
Only By the Night, Kings of Leon

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You Know You’ve Wanted To Do This: xkcd

March 30, 2009 at 5:02 AM (Miscellaneous) (, , )

Luckily for me (I can’t park to save my life), I don’t have a car in Boston.

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Close to Home: xkcd

March 23, 2009 at 5:04 AM (Musings) (, , )

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Today I Learned . . .

March 21, 2009 at 3:29 AM (Personal Reference) (, , )

Today I learned that I can chug 20 fl. Oz. of Dasani.  If my roommate witnesses this feat and begins laughing just as I finish, approximately 25% of those fl. Oz. will make a speedy exit through my nose.

Tonight’s Tune
“So High,” John Legend

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Worth a Laugh

March 19, 2009 at 6:01 PM (Uncategorized) (, , )

I think so, anyway, and I needed something a bit more lighthearted after that last post.  I finally started reading my friend Christen’s blog, and came across this post featuring a YouTube video of Bizkit the dog sleep-walking.  I thought it was hysterical, and thus I will post the video below.  Enjoy!

Today’s Distraction
Bizkit running into the wall!

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Cover Letter

February 26, 2009 at 5:24 AM (work) (, , , )

Dear Sir/ Madam/ Whom It May Concern/ Self-Glorified Recruiter/ Tool/ Earthling:

I am writing in regards to a full-time position with your fine organisation.  I learned about the recent hole in your staff though some source you probably wouldn’t recognise if it slapped you across the face, but I’ll drop its name like it means something to you, anyway.  As a soon-to-be homeless graduate with an expensive degree from a prestigious university, I am desperate for some form of employment that my mother won’t feel she’ll have to lie about when she sends out the next family Christmas letter.

Over the past four years, I’ve done various things that will supposedly make me a viable candidate for your company.  I’ve had internships, part-time jobs and club memberships, and I can probably procure generic, positive letters of recommendation from any of those pools.  I’ve also done a lot of useless things, but something tells me that hearing about that stuff won’t make you want to hire me.  Instead of regurgitating any such items of disinterest, I’ll instead provide you with some of my defining characteristics, which I feel are far more relevant to your decision-making process:

I’ve never killed a person.  Bugs, plants and hamsters are another story.

I can polish off an entire pizza on a good day (or maybe it’s a bad day).

I have access to free whole bean coffee and am usually willing to share.

I enjoy waltzing, puppies, espresso martinis, moonlit walks along the beach, and making shamelessly snarky remarks.

Occasionally I fake tan for ballroom competitions.  This guarantees at least one week of entertainment for everyone else in the office every other month.

I’m cute and cuddly once I’ve had my twelfth cup of coffee.

I fully understand that I will be the newest company gopher, and that I will be subjected to a barely sustainable salary, undesirable tasks that are fit only for an intern, and merciless hours.  In starting at ground zero, there is seemingly infinite room for advancement within the company.  Who knows?  Perhaps one day I’ll get promoted to Real Human with Real Human Needs.  Thank you for not tossing this letter onto the recycling pile upon seeing it on your desk, and I look forward to your rejection.

Tonight’s Tunes
“A-Teens Megamix,” A*Teens
“Rambin’ Man,” The Allman Brothers
“People Get Ready,” Seal
“The Hardest Part,” Coldplay
“I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You),” Fallout Boy
“Chambermaid Swing,” Parov Stelar
“Kiss the Girl,” The Little Mermaid
“Blackbird,” The Beatles
“I Just Called to Say I Love You,” Stevie Wonder

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“You’re So Pale . . .”

February 16, 2009 at 4:29 AM (Happenings) (, )

Only recently have I begun to come to terms with my alabaster glow.  Every now and then, though, I hear a remark about the lack of pigment in my natural skin tone that ricochets through my head for ages.  A few winners will probably stick with me for as long as I live:

“Has your back ever seen a photon of sunlight?”

(commenting on my legs)
“Are you wearing stocki – oh, wait, that’s your natural skin tone.  Nevermind . . . ” ::hurries away::

(Prior to my first performance with the RLJ Formation & Showdance Team.  Russell is discussing logistics with us.)
“And ladies, you’ll probably want to start tanning.  I don’t want to see any pasty legs.” ::turns to me::  “Especially YOU, Whitey!”

Tonight’s Distractions
None.  I am totally focused on my blog.

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My Damn Roomate . . .

September 9, 2008 at 4:22 AM (Friends) (, )

My damn roomate makes me dinner.  And it’s delicious.

My damn roomate keeps the kitchen clean.  And I avoid washing dishes like the plague.

My damn roomate has fine wine tastes.  And I like wine.

My damn roomate reaffirms my opinions of people I dislike.  I won’t mention names.

My damn roomate makes me giggle.  This is particularly appreciated when I’m sleep-deprived and loopy.

My damn roomate gives me Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.  There goes my diet.

My damn roomate named my plant “Herb.”  This makes sense, since Herb is, in fact, an herb.

My damn roomate is snoozing on the couch.  And I’m too lazy to put sheets on my bed.  Note the conflict of interests.

My damn roomate is watching The Cosby Show.  She isn’t black.

My damn roomate finished my coffee.  Along with my other roomate.

My damn roomate can only hope that I don’t identify her in this blog so that psychotics may have the  tools with which to track her down.

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