Category Archives: Confessions

realizations I probably should have come to a very, very long time ago

Royal Wedding Disaster: Prince William’s Other Woman

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Listen. I’m not one to burst happiness bubbles.

I’m a firm believer that if left alone, they will always burst on their own. So I just worry about brushing my teeth and not getting heart disease and everything else will fall into place.

But.

There are times when people just need to know the truth.

That time is now.

And that people is the world. And Kate Middleton.

I’m not trying to destroy anyone’s impending marriage, I’m simply trying to get closure. For William. And our sordid past. Rest assured, the rugby shirts have been burned. The love letters handwritten on Royal letterhead are in the dumpster. Buckingham Palace has been removed from my speed dial. Facebook pictures updated.

So, when the TODAY Show asked viewers to send in a 2 minute video about why they deserve to be flown to London for the week of the Royal Wedding, I found it the perfect opportunity to reveal a secret that’s been plaguing me for years.

And no, I didn’t wash off the face mask just because it was the TODAY show. I worked it into the video.

It’s all about efficiency.

Unfortunately, it could only be two minutes long, so I had to cut out many of the details and factual evidence. But the truth still speaks.

Willy, I’m sorry.

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photo: princeharry.co.uk

altered by: eeer, not altered.

My Cardiac Health Risk Screening: A Video Reenactment

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So, remember when I talked about how I have 7 legitimate, self-diagnosed diseases? Well, one of those was heart disease. I was having chest pains, shortness of breath, tightness in my upper back and fatigue. I mean, you tell me? As any responsible citizen, I set up a cardiac health risk screening to see how many months I have left on this earth.

Yesterday was the Day in question. I have created a video reenactment of the interaction between the doctor and myself. I have also included the results at the end, so that you know if you need to craft your goodbye letters.

First, I’d like to give you a few instructions, if you decide to set up your own screening.

#1. Make sure it is the gloomiest, rainiest day in the history of days. This way, you can be even more depressed as you contemplate your imminent death. In fact, you might even purposefully drive off a cliff before you make it to the doctor’s office.

#2. Make sure that you buy a pack of pretzel M&Ms the day before and accidentally leave them in your car. This will test your self control as you drive a half hour to your appointment on an empty stomach, after fasting for 12 hours. Also be aware this might cause severe road rage.

#3. As you glance up at the heavens, vow to no longer buy pricey makeup and to give all your clothes to the needy in the event you find our you’re going to live.

Alright, and now what has brought us all here:

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Your Daily Dose Of Embarrassment And A Free Photo

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[I apologize for all who tried to comment on the guest blog by Jen on Monday. Apparently, there were some issues with Explorer not allowing comments. Thank you for your emails and all the great advice! I really appreciate you guys. But more importantly, why are you still using Explorer?]

Yesterday, the moon was in the second house. The sun was shining. It was quasi-warm in the Midwest for the first time since Christmas. The alignment of all these rare events led to a brilliant idea on my part. And by brilliant, I mean an idea that led to devastating embarrassment.

I decided, for the first time in five years, to clean out my beautiful baby Saturn. I have oft neglected such duties on account that my baby is 12 years old, has a hole in the hood, leaks on me every time it rains and is probably about to breathe it’s last breath. And I figure that would just be quality time wasted on cleaning, when I could be Twittering or Facespacing, or thinking of more reasons to hate Neil Diamond.

Let me first set the scene for you. I had just gotten out of the shower and I let my hair air dry. Let me just tell you that you’ve never seen anything like an air-dried pile of half-curly, unruly Italian hair. That being said, I also had applied some white zit cream to my chin and left cheek due to an overly stressful week. I put on my “house glasses” and all of you who wear glasses know what I mean by that. You have the normal pair, which can be seen in public. Then, you have the “house” pair, which used to be a normal pair until someone sat on them or the prescription became outdated and now they are solely used for laying in bed and watching TV. Also, since it was warm, I was wearing my daisy duke plaid PJ shorts and a wife beater. And Ugg boots.

I went in the garage and started cleaning. The world was at peace and that’s where this story should end.

But it doesn’t, cus I’m full of bright ideas, remember?

I thought to myself, “It’s sunny out and everyone is at work. I’m just gonna back out of the garage for a bit so I can see things better, but I’ll still be inside the car so no one will see me.”

Well, I suppose that would have generally been the case. But NOT YESTERDAY. Around the corner, I see a man walking by out of the corner of my eye. I had the driver side door open, with one leg out, like some sort of car straddling white trash person.

I ignored him at first, because, I’m sort of the hermit of the neighborhood and no one talks to me.

Except, of course, new neighbors who move next door and want to introduce themselves.

Are you starting to connect the dots?

He walks straight over. Probably about thirty. Gorgeous, wearing a suit. As he approached, I instantly panicked. There is NO WAY I can escape this. He shouts, “I’m new here, trying to get around and meet all the neighbors.” I stared down at the floormats and kept cleaning. I said, “Oh, nice to meet you.”

For goodness sakes, isn’t that enough recognition for any ordinary person? This is America, after all.

Then, only because it’s my life, he kept walking closer. He stands right next to me and I quickly adjusted the shorts, considering the very compromising position I was in. At that moment, I was so preoccupied with not flashing him that I did not recollect the zit cream on my face until he blatantly glared at my chin. As he stuck out his hand, he said, “I’m Todd. I work for the local news. Nice to meet you.”

Oh, the news. Of coursssssssse you do.

I get a lot of emails asking if people can purchase photos from my blog. So….I introduce to you: Free Photo Fridays.

[Free Photo Fridays are a little break from my regular blog posts. I love photography. And I love sharing it with other people. So, on Fridays, I post a high resolution download of one of my favorite pictures for you to use. Hang it on your wall. Use it for your desktop. Frame it and give it to your mom. Do whatever you want. Also, if you have a picture you’d like to add, send it to me at info@bluntdelivery.com and I’ll feature it with a link back to your site. Share the love people.]

Since it is finally getting warm out, I will start with this picture of melting Midwestern ice. Click here to download. [3216 x 2136 px]



I’m Not Paranoid. I Have 7 Legitimate Diseases.

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I was really perplexed the other day. While browsing through Twitterland, I noticed a trending topic of #RIPJackieChan. I mean, I’m not a huge fan of Jackie Chan, but when someone dies I gotta know why. Cus maybe he had the same symptoms I’m having and maybe I’m about to die too. So I clicked on the category to see what happened.

Well, he didn’t die. It was all a ploy by his fans to get attention.

Now. I’m pretty sure it’s obvious why I was so upset: nobody’s fake tweeting about my death.

What up with that? All of the sudden I’m not even as cool as Jackie Chan? Since when? You know I can’t help the fact that I’m not Chinese, right? And I’m still perfecting my roundhouse kick – it takes TIME people! As I sat there, saddened, I decided to play with my new camera phone, while remaining very sad.

In the depths of my despair, I sent out a tweet saying that if people truly loved me, they would fake tweet about my death. It might have been the Tweet equivalent of fishing for a compliment, but whatever.  Sure enough, they tweeted. Thus, my confidence was restored and I wasn’t forced to close my Twitter account.

Anyway, all of this death talk reminds me that I have 7 legitimate, self-diagnosed diseases. And I say legitimate, cus I don’t think I can consider Diverticulitis and Restless Leg Syndrome to be diseases. Or can I?

My fiance thinks that I’m 90% hypochondriac and 10% lunatic. If you ask him, he will give you two specific instances as to why he thinks this.

Reason #1: I call him at work, from MY work, on the verge of tears. I tell him that I am certain that I’m having pre-heart attack symptoms. He then asked me if I’d been spending a lot of time on WebMD lately. I decided that question wasn’t pertinent to the case and pleaded the fifth. Gee, I don’t know: sharp pains in my chest, left arm and upper back, waking up in the middle of the night with shortness of breath, extreme fatigue… you tell me. I never exercise. Heart problems run in the family… sounds like a statistic in the making, right?

The next morning, when I was lucky enough to wake up, I ate carrots for breakfast and pleaded to the heavens that I would start doing my Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred if I could just bide a little more time. Then I did what any responsible person would do and started myself on an Aspirin regiment.

Reason #2: This next one, I admit, was an all-time low. I was mulling over the probable heart attack I was about to have and the possible Type 2 Diabetes scare, when the fiance had slowly passed out on the couch while listening to all my ailments. Suddenly, I shook him awake and said, “I just need you to take a pic for me real quick.” Knowing that he was seriously going to send me packing on the crazy train if I told him why, I said, “Don’t ask questions. I just need to see something.” I turned around and lifted up the back of my shirt while handing him the camera. He goes, “What am I taking a pic of?” I said, “The mole on my back,” as I leaned in toward the lamp so he could get a clear shot. “You’ve got to be KIDDING me.” I don’t know what had overcome me, but in that moment, all I could see in my head were flashbacks to Grey’s Anatomy when Izzy found the tiny mole on her back and it turned out to be metastatic melanoma.

So sue me.

UPDATE: My Cardiac Health Risk Screening [A Video Reenactment]

 

Lessons In Awkwardness: Featuring My Dad

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So I may have mentioned my dad a time or two on this site. In case you aren’t familiar, here is a brief summary:

Here’s the thing with my parents.

My mom can’t turn a computer on and is still holding to her guns that The Internets will become the downfall of society. My dad can turn it on, but his technological knowledge consists mainly of creating spreadsheets. Oh, and there was that one time he typed up something for my mom in Microsoft Word and it took about 5 hours – that also included the addition of a clip art photo, don’t worry.

This might shed some light as to why my parents don’t read this blog. I am quite certain, however, that they know it exists. My evidence for this conclusion is that a random family friend mentioned over dinner how they thought it was hilarious when my dad accidentally brushed his teeth with Preparation H while on a road trip with his Pastor.

Incidentally, I was the only one my dad told.

Now, of course, every time I whip out a composition notebook, my parents give me the stink eye. But, two minutes later, they start laughing and say something like, “Oh, I suppose this is gonna be on a blob now, huh?” And then I write down the fact that they called it a “blob” and turn that into a blog too. They can’t win.

But that’s the beauty of my parents. They don’t take themselves too seriously.

So, I’ve got a special treat for you kids today.

[My dad is the Director for a local non profit that focuses on mentoring and tutoring at-risk elementary students. I’m doing a video for them and needed a 30 sec. spot from my dad. This was our THIRD attempt. SIX HOURS +  203 VIDEOS = 10 SECONDS OF USABLE FOOTAGE. ]

I gave him 4 simple rules to adhere to:

1. Remember the words.

2.  No awkward hand gestures.

3. Don’t say the words “touch” or “tie” when referring to children.

4. Don’t use imaginary words.

Am I asking TOO MUCH??

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As he was leaving the parking lot that day, he yelled out, “Why do I have the feeling that you’re going to be making more than just the charity video?”

A Photo Shoot And A Scientific Breakthrough

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Alright, Science. Get your gloves on, cause we’re about to box. I know you think you can jack with our diets every other day by releasing new information regarding the detriments of coffee, and eggs and high fructose corn syrup, and yet you conveniently forget to report other pertinent information regarding the mental instability of babies. What gives you the right? Perhaps you are just fearful that revealing the truth might cause the human race to fizzle out like a Matt Leblanc spin-off. Well, maybe you’re right, but the people deserve to know.

HYPOTHESIS: All babies are born with bipolar disorder. Future parents, don’t be alarmed: there is nothing you can do to prevent this. This fact is nondiscriminatory – it transcends gender, socioeconomic status and ethnicity. I’m not revealing this to freak you out or to scare you off procreation – it is just a simple fact of life.

This is not a photography tutorial, but I will still offer you a tip: if you happen to find yourself photographing or in the company of a newborn, you will need to keep this in mind. Please remember that when a “disorder” is involved, you must be patient. The child cannot help the fact that they are completely inconsolable one moment and perfectly content the next, with no earthly explanation for these vast extremities.

Oh, and science, just when you thought I was stupid enough to make lofty claims without the data to back it up, I have proof!

DATA:

“Hey guys, it’s me! Just being sweet and checking out the world.”

“I hate this world!! And everything in it! Including YOU!”

“I think I’m gonna lay here, nice and quiet.. like a rotisserie chicken.”

Zzzzzzz…..sweet dreams of BBQ flavored baby food…

“Hey guys, look at me! I’m like a little dinosaur!”

“Ahhhh! The turmoils of life!!! They are just too wretched to bear!”

Zzzz… walking through a meadow filled with flowers shaped like pacifiers…

“I am so pleased with the way my life is shaping up. So many things to write down in my Oprah’s Best Life gratitude journal.”

BAM! ROASTED, Science. Next time you’ll think twice before questioning me.

**Disclaimer: This is the child of two of my very closest friends. He is wonderful and perfect, no matter how much he cries. And his auntie Blunt will always give him honest advice about the ladies.

More photos: Indigo Photography

This Blog Is The Next Heidi Montag

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This blog is so vain. She probably thinks this post is about her.

Well, in this instance she is right.

You know what they say about plastic surgery: it’s addicting. And if anyone would know, it’s this blog, which has had three different looks in the past year. I told her she had better stop before she becomes the Heidi Montag of blogs, but it’s like talking to a brick wall.

So Blunt Delivery went through a little face lift with the help of my girlies over at caffeinateddesigns. I love them so much that I used an Asian Barbie for my twitter feed in honor of Cheryl. Cheryl is the Asian one. Jen is totally white. So technically, all of the other pictures are an homage to her. We’re still working out a few kinks on the site, so just settle down.

Okay guys, after much thought and consideration, I’ve decided to end this blog.

But then I thought about that one person who reads it every week and laughs at the tragedy that is my life, and I thought – I can’t do that to them – whoever they are. If they exist, and I’m 45% positive they do. So instead, I have decided to expand this blog’s horizons a bit.

I am a person who can’t sit still. But wait, don’t you spend like 12 hours a day sitting still in front of a computer, writing and editing and doing all sorts of things that the majority of the world despises?

Wow, you have quite the memory. Ever considered working for the CIA? I could get the details from Matt Damon. I guess when I say I can’t sit still I’m referring more to my mind. I always have five different projects going on. I am not satisfied unless I am learning something new. I’m one of those people who will see something they like, resolve it’s too expensive and then go home and learn how to make it. Follow me?

Historically, Blunt Delivery has just been a blog about my ridiculous life; but I am going to start incorporating other aspects of myself into this blog – because you know that I can barely keep up one blog much less a separate one for each of my distinctly different personalities!

The main reason I won’t quit this blog – besides all of the fabulous people I meet through it – is that it is the one place I can entirely be myself. And I need a place for all of the random stuff circling my head, or I might spontaneously combust.

I get a lot of emails/questions through my photo blog and I would like to start answering them here. I would like to simplify the technical stuff so that people can find the joy in this hobby, rather than the frustration. So, you will be seeing some different things here such as photography posts, tutorials, and random DIY decorating things . After the torture of learning how to use my first DSLR and Photoshop, I really fell in love with photography. Since I don’t do it for an income, it has become a great outlet for me and has allowed the ability to provide creative memories for my friends and family.

BUT I will never stop posting about my ridiculous life. How could I considering it is the Sears Tower of Ridiculousness?

I know many of you will have no interest in these things (as my readers are a 50/50 gender mix) and that is just fine! I will title them with strong warnings such as: PHOTO SHOOT: DON’T LOOK AT IF YOU HATE BABIES. That way you can easily skip over them! Always looking out for ya.

Oh, sorry, except for when I just slip baby pictures in there like that!

The jury is still out on whether or not this was borderline child abuse. Would this post be more interesting if I told you this is Kenny’s baby? Cus it is.

Here’s to hoping I’m not headed for the slammer,

Blunt

10 Phrases I Can’t Respect

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I’m gonna start backwards from #10.

It’s just the right thing to do, according to David Letterman.

10.  A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.

Additional comments: If I have to apply an algebraic equation to dissect your advice, maybe you should opt for just saying WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY.

9. It is what it is.

Additional comments: Oh, it is? Are you sure it isn’t what it is? Or perhaps, it isn’t what it isn’t? What happened to the the birds? Are they still hanging out in the bush? Or are they in my hand now?

8. The cream rises to the top.

Additional comments: So, let me just clarify -who’s da cream? From what I understand the ‘cream’ is supposed to be the better man, yes? But, in this scenario, the ‘better man’ will also lead to clogged arteries and therefore, ultimately cause a possible myocardial infarction. Please reconsider the philosophy behind this phrase. Or, just don’t say it cause it’s gross.

7. Take the bull by the horns.

Additional comments: So essentially, you’re assuming that I’m the stupidest person alive?

6. Dance like no one is watching, love like you’ve never been hurt, sing like no one is listening.

Additional comments: Quick! Someone SAVE MY EARS!! P.S. Do I have your permission to use my hairbrush as a microphone too? Cus that is about the only thing that could make this scenario more awesome.

5.When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

Additional comments: Oh what a sunshiny outlook on life’s difficulties! But lets not set ourselves up for disappointment here. If all you have are a pile of questionable lemons, when you squeeze them, you’re only gonna end up with a cup of lemon juice with a bunch of pulp and seeds floating all up in it. Now, if life gives you a lemon, a pint of sugar plus a gallon of filtered water, then I’ll accept the legitimacy of this poorly thought out suggestion.

4. It takes more effort to frown that it does to smile.

Additional comments: It also takes you more effort to say that, than to not say it. Just looking out for you, chatty.

3. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Additional comments: Interesting theory, young Watson. But from what I’ve seen so far, absence only makes the heart grow fonder of people that it probably shouldn’t be fondling.

2. There is more than one way to skin a cat.

Additional comments: There is? What a relief! That narrows down the chances that I might have been doing it incorrectly all this time! Well, hot dog!

1.  The only thing to fear is fear itself.

Additional comments: Okay. I hear what you’re saying. But somehow, I feel like you’re failing to remember all the snakes and monsters and Osmond TV specials and stuff?

Honorable mentions: Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. Three sheets to the wind.

Use your best judgement,

Blunt

This Blog Can’t Even Handle Me Right Now

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Before you read this I have two very important announcements:

1. Check out my guest post over at Cynicism 101. I am very honored to be Doc”s first guest blogger and I would be more honored if you visited us. He’s me, except a man.

2. Bearman is revealing what my yearbook pics would have looked like throughout the decades. He also posted an obscure homecoming photo that no one knew about till now!

Now let’s get down to bid-ness.

Two three things come to mind when I receive Royal Mail:

1. My British-drug-addict-ex is trying to contact me again, which will cause me to reflect upon a time in my life that makes me wish that London Bridge really was falling down. With me on it.

2. Are we past having to worry about Anthrax?

3. Good Morning America must have gotten my contest entry and this is my invitation to Prince William’s wedding! 2011 is the year all my dreams are coming true!

But then, I open it, and I discover something even better.

Better than Anthrax?

Well, if you can believe it, yes.

Free stuff.

I know what you’re thinking, Anthrax is free. True. Yes, but it will also impair your respiratory system and effectively kill you.

I received custom made greeting cards inspired by my blog, which were made for me by the awesome duo from Caffeinated Designs – Cheryl, my Asian Sunrise, located in sunny CA, and Jen, the Secret Keeper, located in foggy London. And I didn’t even ask for them – they just did it all on their own. Never mind that I have promised to put their kids through college as long as they send me customized periodical gifts for the remainder of their lives.

I had sort of forgotten that they had asked for my address a couple months ago.

Phew. That was a close one, Royal Mail. You had me sweatin’ like an 8th grade me during an algebra test.

They have recently branched out into designing greeting  cards.

Thanks guys! Loved the cards!

Valentine’s Day Is About As Cool As Ke$ha

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I just had to check in and see how you are surviving the Empire State Building of Lame Holidays thus far?

Me? Eh.

Let’s see here. What could I possibly say or do that might lift your spirits on such a dreadful day? Oh, I know, I know!!!!!

1. Make a list of things I love.

2. Post a bunch of pictures of heart-themed things.

3. Talk about how much I love my significant other because of all the cutesy stuff he got me.

Oh wait. What?

You mean all of those things would make you vomit and never revisit this blog?

See? That’s why we’re friends.

Maybe you should watch my Valentine’s Day Sucks video again?

No? Still not working? Well then I’m fresh out of ideas. So can we discuss something else?

Ke$ha.

I blame all of you for making her famous.

Well, maybe not you specifically, cus you’re better than that. I’m referring to those others of millions of peoples.

This just isn’t going anywhere, I can tell. So instead of dwelling on my hatred for all things related to ridiculous pop stars, I’m going to spread a little Blunt love for some of my favorite new blogs. I’m spreadin it smooth, like a fine-churned butter – and you all know I don’t spread it very often. This is a scarce commodity.

Maybe I can’t cheer you up, but one of these guys certainly can.

[If you’re wondering why the Barbie is clothed, it’s cus her Salvation Army $0.99 sticker was adhered to her bosom and it was quite shameful. For her. Sorry if that threw your world off its axis.]

Johnny Utah. Let me just preface this by the fact that it takes a lot for me to read a blog all the way through. They’re usually just a snoozefest, you know? Not this guy. Please read his Open Letter To Teens. Hilarious, and helpful to the world.

Breath of Ella. Why? She’s an Alienator and a Masochist -both qualities that I appreciate in a friend. Also, she’s recovering from a stress-induced bald spot.

Starbucks Break. The lovely Cheryl, who I refer to as my Asian Sunrise, is part of the duo that helped me redesign this here blog. She is also a commitment-phobe, which makes me feel warm and gooey inside.

Awaiting my mystery chocolates from whomever they may come,

Blunt

kesha photo: posh24.com

snide question written over photo: me