A Photo Shoot And A Scientific Breakthrough

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

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

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

How To Break Up With Someone

At first I thought it was a cruel joke. But now I realize that the Osmonds really are never going to go away.

Okay. So in between trying to figure out how I can plan a wedding without losing my mind or offending everyone for life, and then choosing a honeymoon location where I won’t get kidnapped by Pirates, get beaten and left for dead in the town square by a bunch of unruly rebels, or come back with dysentery – I’ve thought a lot about break ups.

These trains of thought are unrelated. I’m pretty sure.

The engagement is still on. As of ten minutes ago.

Break ups are a tricky business. But if those feelings are starting to brew, then please, for the love of living vicariously can you please follow this simple advice?

I wish I’d of had someone to give me such guidance when I was your age.

[kml_flashembed movie="http://www.youtube.com/v/okunzF2qezA" width="425" height="344" allowfullscreen="true" fvars="fs=1" /]

But if you are the one being broken up with, don’t forget that I made something a while ago just for you!

[kml_flashembed movie="http://www.youtube.com/v/myjB5q9gOtQ" width="425" height="344" allowfullscreen="true" fvars="fs=1" /]

Because I care,

Blunt

This Blog Can’t Even Handle Me Right Now

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

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


Valentine’s Day And Other Unfortunate Realities

Lately, I’ve noticed a lot of visitors, dodging the landmines and trekking over mountainous terrains to stop over at my humble, but well decorated corner of the Internets and rest their weary souls. So before I blindside you with what I have to say, which by all accounts will probably alter the course of your life and so we better hurry up, I would like to give all the newbies a big, Blunt welcome with open arms.

But I hope that didn’t just make you think of the popular eighties love ballad by Journey.

Because I sort of dislike that band.  But not as much as I dislike hate Chicago.

But I do like that song ‘Don’t Stop Believing.’

But not just cus it’s on the popular Fox musical Glee.

Cus I don’t like Glee. But I do like that Jane Lynch.

And I like you. So why don’t you just stop worrying about what I do and don’t like, mmmk?

Actually, I can’t say I don’t like Glee. I’m just assuming I don’t. Never mind the fact that I just listened to the YouTube Glee Mix about a hundred times.

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, did you honestly think  just because I’m in a relationship that I would start liking this dreadful day?? I’ll bet you one aluminum wrapped red rose that you did. Ugh. Well, I was part of a video series that the College Crush and College Candy did called: Kick Ass Valentine’s Day… no date needed. You could imagine my enthusiasm at the chance to make fun of a holiday that is supposed to celebrate love, but really just exists in commemoration of the execution of Patron Saint Valentine.

I have included the original version, without the intro they added, in case you hate Valentine’s Day too (which I expect you do) and wanted to watch it. [DISCLAIMER: Guys, this video might make fun of you a lot. This is not an apology, just a disclaimer]

So, I want to know…. how will you be celebrating the horrendous holiday that is creeping in on us like that weird kid in 8th grade biology?

Cus I won’t ever stop believin,’

Blunt


Blunt Bites: The Boy Who Jumped To Conclusions But Had A Good Singing Voice

[ DISCLAIMER: Blunt Bites break away from my normal, detailed laugh-out-loud (right?) posts. They are like snapshots of a significant part of my life. Sometimes, they’re serious. Sometimes, they’re funny. But they’re always gonna be delicious. Yum. ]

I called you one night, out of nowhere. The snow always reminded me of you. At first, you didn’t recognize my voice. Three years had passed since we had spoken. You informed me of your decision to move to L.A. to give your dreams a shot. I said I was surprised that you had finally done it. You said, “Of course you’re surprised, what do you expect when you don’t pick up the phone?” You were mad. When you had driven across country, you had wanted to meet up, but I never returned your calls. As you vented your frustrations, I shook my head so hard you could probably feel it through the phone and then I called you an over-reactor. This started an epic fight, something we had perfected during our brief, but intense college relationship.

In the end, I saw no point in telling you that I had never gotten your calls because my number had changed 3 times since then.

Maybe, that night, I just didn’t want to get into the fact that my number had changed 3 times because my identity had been stolen by drug dealers.

Maybe, that night, I just felt like letting you win.

 


Blunt Bites: The Boy Who Smelled Like Garlic

[ Blunt Bites break away from my normal, detailed laugh-out-loud (right?) posts. They are like snapshots of a significant part of my life. Sometimes, they’re serious. Sometimes, they’re funny. But they’re always gonna be delicious. Yum. ]

It was 1999. I got let out of the hospital the same day as my Junior year prom, except it was actually a banquet, considering I went to a rather strict high school, where dancing was believed to lead to utter destruction of the human soul.

It was my first official date with you, or uh anyone, and I was nervous that you wouldn’t show up. I was banking on the fact that I had just gotten out of intensive care and only a heartless human being would stand up a girl with a hole in her head.

You were late, wearing a mismatched outfit and one of your dad’s ties. My snow white dress was a perfect choice for your red pick-up that lacked a muffler, but not an over-abundance of Taco Bell bags and quasi-empty Mountain Dew cans. On the way home, I laid my tired, broken head on your lap and you sang me Oasis songs because the radio could only get AM stations. You told me it was too bad I didn’t end up with a metal plate in my head because then perhaps we could have picked up more radio stations.

I fell in love with you despite the fact that you smelled a bit like garlic; and you managed to get past my Jewel-like snaggletooth. We dated for four years. But, for Senior prom, I made you wear a suit – even though you wanted to go as Lloyd Christmas from Dumb and Dumber.


Nosy for more details?

[If you’re can’t sleep until you uncover the mystery of the hole in my head, please visit The Hole In My Head: Explained. For the rest of the juicy details on my first love you can read So I Fell Asleep In A Few Bible Classes. And for the story on how my Baptist school accused me of being in a gang when I was in 7th grade, please check out Back When I Was In A Gang]

If This Blog Was A Buffet, Would You Like It More?

Precisely.

Which is why Blunt Delivery will soon become the Golden Corral of blogs.

See? And you thought there was no possible way I could tie in such a random title to this blog post. How long do we have to be on this journey together before you will stop underestimating my masterful literary skills?

Hurtful.

Much to my own dismay, I have an endless supply of long-winded, sarcastically-laced stories about my sordid past for your reading pleasure. But sometimes. Sometimes, my phalanges get just a little bit… tired.

I’m sure my next sentence will come as the shock of your adult life, but, it has never been my goal to post everyday. Why? I feel like even the best of writers don’t have something worthwhile to say to the world on a daily basis. On top of that, I don’t even fit in the “best of writers” category. Jay Leno’s writers can’t even come up with something quasi-entertaining and they actually get paid to do it. Well, mama isn’t getting paid, kids- except for the knowledge that I’m revolutionizing lives one blog at a time, and I guess for a self-sacrificial type like myself, that’s all the payment I need. Now give me a moment whilst I yank myself from the tree I’m bear-hugging, snatch up a piece of random litter and gather my thoughts.

Puke.

Another reason why I don’t post daily is because I have never, ever forced myself to write a blog. What does this mean for you, my reader with unparalleled beauty? Well, it means that you don’t have to hear about my dog’s potty training troubles or the fact that my child is so darn cute when he leaves an “R” out of word.

But Blunt, I thought you didn’t have kids and you hated dogs?

Wait, who are you and how did you manage to hijack this blog?

The point is, I only write when I have a thought so utterly preposterous that my hands go on auto pilot and I can’t stop but only for a cupcake. Or two. And although many of you yell at me for my lack of posting, I think if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve grown to appreciate that about me. And if you’re not being honest with yourself, then you need to lose the spandex and cut the crap already. It’s not working for you.

THE POINT IS sometimes I AM tired, yet I still have something that I would like to say. Thus, I am creating a new category called: Blunt Bites. Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with Vampires. Or brownie bites.

But gosh, I wish it did.

Blunt Bites will break the format of my usual, quasi-lengthy,  jaw-dropping, laugh-out-loud posts (right?), and sum up a significant part of my life in a mere paragraph or two. It will be like a snapshot of sorts. And I don’t even know if I’m up to the challenge.

You lucky ducks.

Or maybe all of that was just a lie and I’m merely using this as a selfish writing exercise on how to condense stories.

I trust you will will find the answer deep within yourself.

The following is a “sample” of what a Blunt Bite will be. They might be sarcastic. They might be funny. They might be tragic. But, they will all be honest.

You said it all felt like high school again – that somehow, being together made you forget that you were an adult with responsibilities and problems and broken dreams. For me, it was an escape, a mere a moment of blind optimism; in that sense I guess I can see what you meant about high school. One day at the gas station, you were down to your last two dollars and so you told me to pick out a lottery ticket. You said, “Choose wisely – this is going to pay for our summer home out east.” I chose a pink one.

It was the wrong choice. And so were you.

Mmm. Now that’s something to munch on.