Tag Archives: funny

Dear Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred Workout DVD,

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Two weeks ago, you entered my home with all of the optimism of Christmas morning.

But lately, I feel like we’re at odds. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but the other night your eyes looked a bit more angry than normal. And I sensed a hinge of animosity in your voice as I was doing my side lunges (with weights, of course, cus the big muscles don’t burn enough calories on their own).

Oh, I’ve been listening.

And I know if I asked you, you would say nothing is wrong. But do to my extensive experience with complicated relationships, I think we both know that’s not the case. So in attempt to salvage what we have left, I feel the need to explain to you what might seem like a lack of commitment on my part.

jillian-michaels-30-day-shredDAY 1: Jo and I did the workout, sans weights. We fell to the floor laughing when you said, “People tell you ‘Just take the stairs’ but that is a FALSE MESSAGE OF LETHARGY that won’t do you any favors!” We then had a glass of wine, watched Grey’s Anatomy and talked about how we wanted to die.

DAY 2: Jo and I did the workout. I used the weights except I only had 5 lb ones instead of the recommended 2 lb ones. We made fun of your eyebrows a little bit.

DAYS 3-5: I lost the ability to use my arms. So did Jo, which confused both of us, considering she didn’t use weights. We decided it best to take a few days off, as not to cause further injury. We’re still waiting on our health insurance from Obama.

DAY 6: Jo and I regained feeling in our arms, so we worked out. She walked in with 2 cans of baked beans in lieu of weights. I marveled at her genius, and found 2 cans of my own to use, however, they were re-fried beans. All was well, except for the fact that I forgot to wear a sports bra.

DAYS 7-9: Due to some intense crying, I figured it best not to workout in such a dehydrated state. Jo figured it best to empathize with me on the couch. She’s a good friend.

DAY 10: My head was still aching, but Jo was determined to workout. I sat on the couch with my laptop. Then, I grabbed a box of Snickers ice cream from the freezer and just watched her, cus man, it was funny. Afterward, when Jo got up to go to the bathroom, her legs gave out on her and she did a face plant into my floor. She said, and I quote: “That’s how you know the workout is working.”

DAYS 11-14: Thought about working out. A lot. But it’s the holidays, so our absence is 100% LEGIT.

I hope this clears things up as I do hope to maintain at the very least, a friendship.

XOXO,

Blunt.

P.S. New blog design coming this week, plus a bunch of other random announcements that you won’t care about!!

There Is No Greater Pleasure In Life – Except There Is

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I’m currently sitting in a room of the criminal justice center, surrounded by a group of my fellow unbiased peers.

I assure you, none of them have formed any prejudices in the course of their lives and they possess the ability, as do I, to hold someone’s fate in their completely non-judgmental hands.

Of course, I’m the first one of 45 to be called to the jury box.

Did it not even matter that I checked the box saying I knew a judge, and an attorney, and a law enforcement official, and have been the victim of a crime?

Well, what in Sam’s hill is the point the boxes then?

To waste my TIME?

Maybe there should have been a box for “almost married the State’s Attorney’s nephew.”

Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.

And at least something good would have come out of that relationship.

And, of course, it’s 2:15 and they have yet to give us our promised lunch break.

Which wouldn’t be such of a big, hairy deal had I not decided that showering and eating was not nearly as important as an extra ten minutes of sleep.

No, you’re right, I couldn’t possibly have eaten and showered in ten minutes anyway. The dice was loaded from the start.

And, of course, I tripped over my dress pants in front of the entire courtroom, on the way to the jury box.

Would it KILL this town to have a decent seamstress?

I can only hope, in the event I flip out and do something so incredibly dumb someday, that I am lucky enough as to be offered this same level of justice. I also assure you that all of us are completely happy to be here serving our civic duty with nothing in exchange except the joy of knowing justice was served in the quickest way possible, so we could all get back to texting in the car.

Now I’d like my $13.00 please so I can go put a down payment on the parking ticket I just received so I wouldn’t have to walk two miles to the courthouse.

Truly honored,

Blunt. (insert one of those stupid heart shaped thingys that I don’t know how to do and never will)

 

That Time The World Just Made Sense

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No, you’re completely right. That never happened.

It’s almost like my witty, overly-dramatic titles don’t even fool you anymore. I guess that could be a good thing, cus it means we’re getting past the honeymoon phase of our relationship, eh? But if we’re being honest, which I think we are, my mom never thought it would last.

First, I’d like to start by saying: Gentlemen, I feel your pain.

I am QUITE aware of how difficult it is to find witty, brilliant, beautiful, self-confident women in this world because I have been searching with eyes wide open. And let me tell you something, these eyes are really starting to hurt from all the wide-openness. They’re all dry and reddish and people are really starting to question the meaning behind the name of this website.

So it’s a good thing the search is over.

Two weeks ago, I packed up the convertible, put my hair in rollers and said, “Mom, I’m gonna go be a stewardess.” With Simon and Garfunkle playing in the background, I drove off to California with a mystery boy in a velvet shirt, leaving only my record collection behind for my little brother.

Nope. But what I did was EVEN BETTER.

I packed up my friend’s Honda, drove to Chicago with a very bad stomach ache, a very full bladder, a McCafe that I now refer to as “the mistake,” and a GPS that had lost its ever-loving mind to meet up with two of the most amazing women the universe has to offer!

The flood gates of heaven’s splendor have finally opened and I have discovered where the world’s coolest women have been hiding: behind the comments section of this blog. I’m pretty sure a small piece of Chicago exploded from all the awesomeness of our reunion. You can click here for Lola Lakely’s report on the night, and here for V from Uncorked.

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As could be expected, we did all the normal things that girls do when they get together. There were super tight pj’s, pillow fights, feathers, kissy face self portraits, boy-bashing, singing into hairbrushes, and jumping on beds while listening to Madonna.

You know, the usual.

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Or, we profusely mocked all of those things. I’ll let you decide which scenario actually happened.

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I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been sulking in the sadness and the void that I feel without these ladies around.  Why do you think it has taken me so long to post a blog?


My Last Words Before Turning Into A Vampire

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I cannot think of a solitary moment in life that is more optimistic than when you are listening to a high school valedictorian speech. These kids are sitting there, staring at a blank page. They have not yet been faced with life-altering decisions. Their hearts are still vaguely in one piece. They haven’t made a series of poor choices that has left them divorced, in debt, and jaded for all eternity. They aren’t quite sure what the Freshman 15 even is. They barely understand the concepts of financial responsibility and what it’s like to work a 9-5 job that makes you want to wish you were never born, just because you have no other option. Their dreams have not yet had a chance to breathe, much less die.

I get all teary every time.

I could listen to valedictorian speeches all day. Oh wait, I have been. A local TV station has been replaying all of the public school graduation videos from this past spring. For me, it’s a little slice of heaven. For everyone else, it is a rare and peculiar form of self-inflicted torture.

I am in love with school. And not just because I have an absurd obsession with the smell of school supplies. I love the feeling of that first day. A new start. Endless possibilities. Football games. Catching up with old friends, making new ones. That sickening feeling when you walk past the one person you will never have the guts to talk to. Add the fact that school starts in the fall and you have what might be a perfect storm of awesomeness.

I wish I could make a career out of attending school.

But Brit, didn’t you quit college?

I’m sorry, what?

Of course, high school is also vicious. Girls really are mean. Teenagers are unforgiving and selfish. And in the process of everyone trying to find themselves, we all have a tendency to lose a little bit of dignity. But even though I had my fair share of tearful nights and end of the world moments, when I think back on those days, they were incredible. There’s nothing like it. And never will be again.

Easy solution? Become a vampire and stay 17 forever.

What I’m going to do in the meantime? Make a sack lunch and watch Clueless.

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Stay tuned. My next blog will feature pics and stories from my epic weekend in the Windy City with Lola Lakely and Uncorked!!!

I Attract Crazy People: Case Study #548

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I’m not one of those people who tries to collect Facebook friends [or as my dad calls it: FaceSpace]. Those people have deep-rooted acceptance issues stemming from childhood. That is my educated guess based on the two psychology classes I took at community college.

This young man from London sent me a friend request, which I ignored, of course. I’m particularly leery of Londoners, given my extensive experience with a certain British creeptown. But we really don’t have time for that this week. A couple hours later, I noticed a message from the guy. I have so conveniently preserved the conversation for you to analyze.

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Mind you, I thought this would be an appropriate time to stop responding as it sounded like we were on the same page: I’m not from the “tele” or a model or a singer = no further point to continue this conversation.

Just kidding! It’s Opposite Day!

He started a new message thread:

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And now that I’ve posted this on my blog, I’m quite sure I’ve only sealed my fate. But I couldn’t help myself. You guys deserve to know the real reason why I came up missing. And while you’re mourning my absence, you can check out the other half of my creepy, abandoned house pictures.

They may, afterall, be the last ones I ever take.

It was nice knowing you.

xoxo,

Blunt.

America, This Is How Much I Love Your Beautiful Face

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I don’t get it. So you’re saying that when I said I was going to start posting on a Monday/Wednesday/Friday rotation, you thought that meant I was posting a blog every Monday, Wednesday and Friday?

Clearly, we have communication issues.

And in the interest of breaking free from my passive-aggressive behavior, I will simply tell you that is precisely why we will never work out.

Luckily, now that I’ve had the holiday weekend to cool down and get myself back to neutral, I’m ready to talk to you again.

As you may or may not know, it was the 4th of July on Sunday. As you also may or may not know, it is my second favorite holiday despite the fact that it always lets me down either in quality of company or the always-anticipated- but-never-welcomed raping of my eardrums by the Neil Diamond sky concert. Either way, I still dig it.

Crackly sunburnt foreheads. Watermelon. People blowing up illegal stuff. Shirtless men holding a Bud Light while grilling an assortment of mystery proteins on their front porches. Apple pie. Coolers everywhere. A general sense of gratefulness bestowed upon our military. It’s as if the country gets one giant free pass to be a hillbilly.

That being said, my 4th of July celebration was pretty typical:

1. I ate Mexican food.

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2. I wandered around a cemetary in search of the archaeologist that discovered King Tut’s tomb.

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3. I busted into an abandoned house while on an aimless photo-taking drive.

abandoned-house-rockford-il

Thinking back on it now, I might have thought it was Halloween.

You can check out the Creepy Abandoned House Part 1 pics here. Part two coming soon!

Hope your holiday was simply fabulous.

How To Avoid Awkward Encounters On Your Birthday

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Question: Why wear the world’s most unflattering, horizontal-striped dress on your birthday?

Answer: So that you have something even more upsetting than your birthday to focus on.

Another viable reason could be because it slightly entirely resembles The Hamburglar. Cus isn’t that what birthdays kind of are? One giant Hamburglar, sneaking up on you to steal another year?

This year has been interesting. My career has taken a direction that I couldn’t be more pleased with. I’ve taught myself how to take photos with a fancy camera, which I’ll never fully know how to use. I started eating Flintstones chewables, and I’ve never felt better. Friends have moved away. Friends have come home. I’ve been severely depressed, and unbelievably happy. Relationships have come and gone. I’ve met some amazing new people. Cut out some not so amazing people. Started eating tomatoes. Almost died behind the wheel of my car about 75 times. I changed my phone number.  I repainted my living room.

Yea. That sounds about right.

But the most important thing I’ve learned is: How To Avoid Awkward Encounters On Your Birthday.

1. Stay inside your house for three consecutive days.

2. Refuse to shower during that time.

3. On the off chance that you are tempted to leave your house, remember that you haven’t showered.

4. Make a pan of brownies.

5. Eat the entire pan of brownies, and pass out.

6. Set a goal to watch the entire Sex and the City series.

7. Resolve that there is no better time than now to start achieving your goals.

8. Don’t run out of food.

9. When you run out of food, use your Mary Kate Olson sunglasses to disguise your grossness and get carry out pasta.

10. Question why you own Mary Kate Olson sunglasses.

11. Remember that some of life’s mysteries are just too complex to unvail.

12. Cry.

13. Realize even your Mary Kate Olson sunglasses couldn’t disguise your puffy eyes.

14. Finish the box of wine.

15. Realize that expiration dates are there for a reason, and they best not be challenged, especially when it comes to boxed wine.

I’m happy to report that (1) I don’t look a day over 45, and (2) I did survive my birthday weekend.

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I went out one itty bitty time, but the rest of my weekend was spent in hiding with my friend Jo, and can be described exactly as on the numbered list above. It. was. fabulous.

jo-dana

 

5 Things Men Do That Annoy The Crap Outta Women

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Wait, why are you holding a giant calendar with red X’s all over it?

…And why is there a whistle around your neck?

Did you recently become a gym teacher?

STOP TAPPING YOUR FOOT! What do you mean it’s only been a week and I’ve already broken my promise of posting on Monday, Wednesday and Friday?

Well, well, smartypants.. perhaps you missed the memo where I mentioned that I’m now going off the ancient Mayan calendar. Bam, roasted! That also means that you’ve only got until 2012 before the earth explodes, which makes this whole broken promise thing seem a bit trite, eh?

Besides, you need to lay off me cus my birthday is on Friday and I’m having a breakdown.

Now. I realize that I’m pretty rough on women in this neck of the woods.* And guys, I feel like you might think you you have a free pass around these parts.* Well, sike. You better not even think you do, cus you don’t. I will further support that statement with the following numbered list of 5 Things Men Do That Annoy The Crap Outta Women:

1. Leave the bathroom floor covered in water. Question: Are you capable of washing your face and/or hands without turning the entire bathroom into a slip ‘n slide? Question: Is it possible to take a shower and actually step onto the conveniently provided mat when drying off?

2. Don’t properly take care of your feet. I’m not exactly sure what happens here. Question: Why does almost every man between the ages of 18 and 80 have at least one (if not all) deformed toenail? It’s either yellow, or crusty, or infested with some sort of mystery fungus that is resistant to over the counter treatments. In most cases, all of the above.

3. Leave a new toilet paper roll on top of the counter instead of putting it on the holder. Question: I’m too furious to ask a question right now.

4. Always being the hero, even if it requires making up a fake crisis. Man: Did you see that guy? He totally just checked you out! Who does he think he is? Can’t he see you’re with me? He’s totally staring at you?! Girl: Um, I didn’t even notice anything. Man: Stay right here. I’m gonna take care of this. Girl: Can’t we just go eat? I’m hungry.

5. Refuse to check the order at the drive thru. You know it’s gonna be wrong, it always is. Ask my metro sexual bff Kenny what happens when he fails to check my order and it’s wrong. Just ask him. [Speaking of, Happy Birthday Kenny. It just isn’t the same without you around here to throw a highly inappropriate combined birthday party with.]

Ladies, please feel free to add to the list.

That being said, guys, you know I love you. You fill the world with muscles, sweat, problem solving skills, a wealth of useless facts and movie trivia, the ability to vaguely determine the general origin of a scary car noise, and an endless supply of “It’s going to be okay’s.” But, sometimes, I just want to strangle you with that loosely fitted metro sexual tie.

*I’ve recently spent a lot of time at my parents’ country house. Sorry.

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Check out my latest photography post Where Have All The Good Looking People Gone?

 

Your Twenties: One Giant Excuse To Do Nothing

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Does it ever seem like you just keep running up against walls? No matter what way you go something unexpected happens and you find yourself in an endless cycle of spinning your wheels? And then the next thing you know, all the weeds have grown up around you and there’s just no way out?

Yea. Unfortunately, we don’t really have time to talk about that right now. But I am sorry you feel that way.

I mean, we are REALLY pressed for time. This whole blogging three times a week thing is cramping my style. But a promise is a promise. Except, of course, when you’re in a relationship cus then a promise is merely a meaningless statement you make to set the other person’s mind at ease.

At ease, Soldier.

I’ve got a meeting in an hour and I’m typing this in last night’s tshirt, yesterday’s frizzy hair, and some eyebrows that have seen better days. And by better days I mean, ones where you could distinguish me from Bert. I have leftover pieces of face mask and cake frosting on my chin,* and I’m just hoping that one of my long lost loves decides that today is the day he’s going to surprise me at my door. Cus that is pretty much how my life works.

*currently daydreaming about a face mask made of cake frosting.

So this picture. You know, the one of the car hitting the giant cement bricks that I cleverly used as a metaphor for the lives of people in their twenties and then siked you out by saying we weren’t gonna talk about it? Well, I took that yesterday. It was raining, which is when I get most of my creative inspiration, and I went for an aimless drive with my camera and my iPod. As I was driving through the not-so-desirable parts of town, I noticed alot of things that I thought were beautiful and interesting. So I decided to start a photo project called My City, As Seen Through My Car Window. If you are cool enough to follow me on Facebook, you’d already be abreast* to this fact.

Why my car window?** Well, partly cus I don’t want to get arrested for wandering around condemned places. Partly cus I don’t want to get my camera stolen, cus man, it’s pretty. So there was a lot of stopping abruptly in the middle of the road and making people very angry. This is nothing out of the ordinary.

*Again, I just can’t stop saying it.

**Unfortunately, today’s picture taking attempts resulted in the loss of my passenger side mirror.  We’ll see how long this project lasts.

Go to Indigo Photography.

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About As Much As I Love Geraldo Rivera’s Mustache

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That girl.

The one whose overly pushy, Sicilian boyfriend was able to convince her that entering a beauty pageant, despite the fact she was allergic to hair spray, 4-inch heels, up-dos and beauty pageants, would be a super awesome way to get scholarship money for her overpriced private college education.

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The one with absolutely no rhythm or hand-eye coordination, who was forced to perform a group dance number to Cher’s Believe.

The one who discovered, upon signing up, that she needed something, como se talent? Since she had not been practicing the art of lap tap dance or clarinet since the age of 5, she wrote a comedic monologue about her trials with teenage acne.

The one who survived blissfully on nothing but McDonald’s cheeseburgers and Sour Patch Kids until realizing that it wasn’t just televised beauty pageants that had bikini competitions. She then ate nothing but granny smith apples for an entire month. Why granny smith? You’ll have to ask her.

That girl.

She’s gotta stop posting such ludicrous pictures of herself on THE INTERNETS.

For crying out loud, it’s embarrassing.

For her, that is.