Tag Archives: humor

Blunt Bites: The Boy Who Smelled Like Garlic

Posted on by
55

[ 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?

Posted on by
44

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.

Your Guess Is As Good As Mine [Plus A Christmas Giveaway]

Posted on by
39

UPDATE: Winner of this contest is FAUX TRIXIE!  I took the total number of entries, minus those who opted out cus they live in the UK and the cookies would be gross by then and added one extra entry for those who commented on my column over at The College Crush.  Sometimes, it actually pays to be the first commenter!

So, there is no shame in sharing things, you know? I happen to need a new digital camera. In fact, a camera was the one item on my Black Friday list; however, I failed miserably at getting it because I became terribly distracted by all the other sparkly, half-priced objects. Please take a moment to marvel at my use of the semicolon in the previous sentence.

So, I’ve been borrowing my dad’s lately. No. Big. Deal.

Except when you are sitting down for Friendsgiving Dinner [a Thanksgiving for friends only], and you go to review the pictures that you have taken, and you come across this:

Pretty sure I didn’t take that.

99% sure that’s my dad.

But not 99% sure why he is shirtless, with gray hair and a white hand.

As I was pondering that thought, I fought against every urge to put the camera down, scared of what I might see next.

But curiosity is such a nasty little devil. So I ate some more cheesy potatoes and kept scrolling.

Then, I’d had enough. I did what any one in my position would have done.

Showed the pictures to all my friends and took bets on what was going on.

I called my dad and told him I’d found some disturbing pictures on his camera. He started laughing, and followed it up with, “Oops. Forgot about those. You better not show them to anyone.”

Come on, dad. A little credit for your best daughter?

Many of you have asked me over the years what it is about my dad that I love so much. After all, he did scam me into raising sheep.  Well folks, this pretty much sums it up. So because I love my dad so so much, and because he just turned 59, and because I have an awesome new Christmas blog header, I’m gonna give stuff away!!!!


Bitter Baking Company and Blunt Delivery will be doing several Christmas giveaways this December. This, being the first. All, you have to do to score some sarcastically delicious cookies on your doorstep is answer the following question:

What in the world is up with my dad in these pictures?

That is the only rule. **BONUS ENTRY: you can visit my new column at The College Crush and leave me a little love. It’s hard being the new girl on the block!

Must enter by noon Wednesday, December 8!

Merry Christmakkuh!


I’m Offended For Two Reasons

Posted on by
48

1. That half of you didn’t even notice I posted a Thanksgiving Giveaway until it was too late to enter. This makes me feel like you’re under some sort of assumption that it’s not worth bothering to check my blog cus I only post like twice a month or something? Pray tell, how and why has your perception become so skewed? This is the problem with liberal media!!

Let this be a lesson to you.

Luckily, Karaoke Activity Partner has not yet been brainwashed to believe such lies. She checked my blog like a good little robot and scored some sweet action Thanksgiving cookies from The Bitter Baking Company.

BUT, because this is the season of giving. And because you’re all so awesome when you’re not making me want to pull my hair out by the roots. And because my blog is considering having a love child with Bitter Baking Company, Blunt Delivery will be doing four more giveaways before Christmas! And not just of cookies, but other Blunt-worthy items that I’ve scouted the fruited plains for as well.

2. ‘Black’ Friday. Really? Even now with Obama and everything? [BTW: my spellchecker just suggested I replace Obama with Alabama]

Speaking of Black Friday… if you were anywhere, doing anything, at 3 am I think you should reconsider your life goals. Perhaps take a Carnival cruise. Move some furniture around. Get some bangs. Something.

My Black Friday Wrap Up= 23 stores. No snacks. No bathroom breaks. Home by 6. Add a spandex jumpsuit and some Air Jordan’s and Black Friday would have been shaking in it’s half-priced winter boots. VICTORIOUS!

Insignificant detail: Had one solitary item on my list and returned home without it.

Whatever.

When I pulled up to my house, confusion struck me. What is this box on my doorstep? I am not expecting anything. A bomb? A puppy? 1-800-FLOWERS? Cus those are all things that I don’t really want. I thought we were over Anthrax scares? What could it BE?!  Did I somehow check ‘afternoon delivery’ on my online purchases this morning?!  No. It cannot be. There is no such thing.

And then I glanced at the return address label and saw that it was my very own batch of cookies from Bitter Baking Company.

It’s was a Black Friday MIRACLE! There I was, starving, exhausted, and broke, and I arrive home to find dinner waiting on my doorstep!

See guys, there is a moral to be extracted from this story. A soul pancake to be eaten. This just goes to prove that you can buy all the stuff in the world and still come home to find yourself starving, depressed, broke and alone. That is, until you discover cookies on your doorstep. Just remember this holiday season that it isn’t stuff that will make you happy.

It’s cookies.

It was my version of achieving World Peace.

And We Didn’t Even Go On A First Date

Posted on by
61

I just feel like it all moved a bit fast.

There I was, shirtless. And we hadn’t even bantered about our favorite foods. I didn’t even know his middle name. He had no clue of my sorted past with inappropriate men or that I have a constant desire to buy unnecessary office supplies. I didn’t even have the chance to make up some terribly impressive story about how I quit my job to work with Tsunami victims or feed children in Ethiopia.

In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but be filled with doubts that this just wouldn’t turn out right.

But I was wrong.

For the second time I can vividly remember, I was terribly mistaken.

The breast biopsy results were negative.

All the juicy details to follow on the video blog. Why? Because I’m suspecting my only other competition is Wheel of Fortune, Jersey Shore, or one of about 800 shows that chronicle the life of a young law enforcement agent working on the streets of LA who quits his job every other week because he never anticipated how rough it would really be.

If you so much as even consider choosing Jersey Shore over me, we’re through.

On a serious note, I would like to give a big Blunt thank you to all of the people who emailed me and talked me off the ledge during the past month. Specifically, my new girlfriend Vodka and Ground Beef, and my Colorado other half, Twenty Somethings. It’s amazing how much you can relate to people you’ve never actually met. I’d say it’s the main, if only reason, I keep this old blog going.

So between the biopsy, the financial issues, a family crisis, relationship stuff, a bff having a baby – I apologize for my absence. I’ll be getting over to your blogs this week and thanks for sticking around… MUAH!

I’ll be back in a couple days with some introspective Thanksgiving-ish post!

12 Step Breakup Recovery Program

Posted on by
74

It’s been twelve days since my last post. Accident? Please. We’re not talking about Denny DelVecchio here. I’m trying to subliminally remind that you that the twelve days of Christmas are just around the corner and it’s in your best interest to put the danish down and put the tree up. Don’t be one of those scrooges that waits til the day after Thanksgiving. Why even bother with the holidays if that’s how you’re gonna be?

I also thought we could channel any pent up rage you might have against me for not posting into something beneficial… like, learning. So while I’m working on my new soon-to-be smash hit “She’s Just Not That Into You Volume. 1 of 250,” I wanted to take some time out to educate you on a subject matter that I have mastered: the breakup.

There isn’t a one of you out there who hasn’t been through this dreadful necessity of life called The Breakup. Unless you’re 17, in which case, you shouldn’t require this information because you shouldn’t be dating yet. And if you are, I’m very offended. At your mom. Or dad. Or two moms. Or foster parents for not protecting your innocence. And I’m also offended at you for throwing such a fit about it and playing the “I’ll just run away then I can do whatever I want” card that they had no choice but to just give in and let you. I can just see you doing that snotty little voice that you do.

Darnit, the both of you.

Clearly, this topic is too deeply personal to not convey face-to-face …so I have opted for a video blog.  And I am quite certain if you follow this 12 Step Program, you will find yourself back in the saddle and riding off into the sunset with the strapping, young [and better looking than the last one] cowboy or girl of your choice.

*I apologize if I look like I haven’t slept in about two weeks. Cus I haven’t.

Yea yea, so I cut it off too soon. Whatevs. It was late.

Anyway, thanks for sticking around even though I’ve been MIA. I promise it was for good reason. But can I get some sort of credit for actually replying to my comments these days???

I’ll be visiting you all later today.

My Blog Is A Racist And Frankly, I’m Disgusted

Posted on by
51

[Remember when I told you to check out my Blogboyfriend’s interview of me last Saturday but then it wasn’t there? Yeaaaa, well that’s cus he just posted it. Everything you’ve ever wanted to know about me but were afraid to ask – right here.]

There comes a point in all of our lives where each of us has to take a cold, hard look at our blogs. We need to step back and analyze if they are, in fact,  the blogs that they painted themselves out to be in the honeymoon phase.

This is a sad day, friends.

I never could have saw this coming. Of course, it’s better to have found out now than five years down the road when my blog and I have a book deal and my entire extended family has purchased a wardrobe of white, draw-string pants and relocated to Bermuda to live off the ad revenues.

How did I discover this betrayal?

Considering I’m a private person, I normally wouldn’t expose the painful details. But if it can spare even one of you from going through this heartache, it is worth every tearful stroke of the pearly plastics.

Last Friday, it was 3 am, and I felt lone-ly-y. Ugh. Sorry, I hate when Rob Thomas gets all desperate for attention and hacks into my posts – I’m SO over needy guys whose musical careers peaked mid-nineties. So I was sorting through my posts, and obviously Blunt Delivery’s model of choice is the naked Barbie – cus nothing else seems to make sense in this life. As I was scrolling through the archives, I came across many pictures that you may remember.

Blunt Delivery’s first birthday:

Photo shoot with my mom’s chocolate chip cookies:

It was a laughter-filled trip down virtual memory lane, and then my heart started racing. All the sudden I got that all too familiar feeling in my throat like Wendys’ skilled sandwich makers had given me the wrong Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger and I’d accidentally ingested mayonnaise, and I couldn’t swallow, you know? I was sweating like my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend after I emailed him a screen shot of his Match.com profile. BUSTED.

Every single photo in the archives was of a blond-haired, blue-eyed, Caucasian Barbie.

Excuse me while I puke. How could it be that this entire time my blog has been a white supremacist and I was none the wiser? I’ve always prided myself on my ability to detect social injustices, and although this happened on my watch, I want you to know that I am taking active steps to remedy this situation. The excuses have come pouring in, but I will hear none of it. Don’t try to tell me that there isn’t much of a selection in the Salvation Army nekkid Barbie bin. Don’t act like you got laid off from the bank and couldn’t justify superfluous, brand-new Barbie purchases.

I am a brick wall.

This blog is turning a new leaf and if I have to beat it over the head with an equality stick, that’s what I’m prepared to do. The first step to recovery was to make everyone come in on Saturday at 6:00 am for an Embracing Diversity class. Then, I held a photo shoot to create new category buttons for the sidebar. You’ll notice, I’ve introduced some brunettes and a white trashy whore (for balance) along with two interracial couples. And don’t even think I don’t have an Asian goddess and a South African princess preparing for their closeups.

From now on, this blog will paint with all the colors of the wind.

Boy + Girl + Blogging + Chicago + Frizzy Hair = BlogDate

Posted on by
69

Listen. I’ve already paused the Roseanne marathon. I’ve canceled my plans to work out with Jo, the unofficial roommate. And I’m trying to set down my caramel apple spice long enough to type this, but considering it tastes like Christmas morning exploded in my mouth, I can’t make any promises.

Why am I going to such extremes, you ask? Or didn’t. I’m just assuming that you’re an engaged reader.

Wait, did someone say engaged? Cus I almost got claustrophobic.

So why am I climbing the highest peaks, crossing the deepest valleys and trudging through the murkiest swamps to write this post today? Because I heard through the grapevine that I went on a BlogDate in Chicago last week, and you are dying to hear all about it!  If that isn’t true, then I blame the women of the world. Blasted gossipers.

So how did this alleged BlogDate even come about? Everyone take a seat on the mat, I feel a coming-of-age story coming on!

Alright, boys and girls. Someday when you get older, and you have a blog of your own, you will start to get comments. Once in a while, you might notice a particularly witty comment that grabs your specific attention. You will then set out on a journey to explore that commentor’s blog. Don’t rush this -it will just come naturally, when the time is right. When you’ve met the right blog, you will find it to be equally as entertaining as the comments were, which will come as a pleasant surprise on some rainy Tuesday. I’m not going to set unrealistic expectations, but butterflies are a possibility.

At some point you will begin to wonder if this person has an actual face. One of you will harmlessly stalk the other and find them via a social networking site. In the event they do not have a social networking site, nor do they have a bio picture on their blog, it is safe to say that your BlogDate will never happen.

Should you both happen to not be repulsed by the sight of one another, you will start blowing up eachother’s Facebook pages. Then, in a random twist of fate, one of you will come up with a ridiculous excuse to give out your digits. [ In my case it was: “This might be my number. If you text me something that makes me laugh, I might introduce you to Oprah.”  A couple hours later I received this text: “I am sending this from my diamond encrusted pager.” ]

And before you know it, a boy from New York is on a plane to Chicago to go on a BlogDate with you.

Make sense?

Now, as awesome as this may seem, there comes a point where you finally come to grips with what you’re actually doing. For me, that moment came while I was on the train to Chicago. I will demonstrate my thought process with you in the following storyboard:

1. This wasn’t a thought process, but it was the largest Sangria I’ve ever seen. Luckily, Uncorked met up with me for some of these before I went to the airport.

2. WTF do my nails look purple in this light?! I swear, they looked black in my house! Why do I insist on living in an environment with no natural light? What am I a BAT?

3. Really? You could die today.

4. Eh, if I’m gonna die, at least it was in the name of journalism. Maybe Geraldo Rivera can do a reading at my funeral.

5. Way to burn your forehead with the curling iron this morning. Typical.

6. Family emergency so I can’t make it? Food poisoning? My hip locked up and I can’t walk? There was a bio-nuclear attack on the rail system? These all sound legit to me.

So we met. After twenty minutes I realized I wasn’t lying in a garbage bag in the back of a trunk, so my nerves let up a little bit. We went to Second City, which is a must for any visitor, followed by drinks at one of my favorite places. The next day, Chicago tried to break a record for hottest/most humid day in September ever. After sweating off a few pounds, we decided to find an indoor activity: The Art Institute of Chicago. BlogBoyfriend did his best impression of my favorite tortured artist, Van Gogh. They exchanged pleasantries and tried to one-up each other on who was more of a tortured artist. Blah, blah. I told them it’s all fun and games till someone loses an ear.

Careful, don’t laugh. DON’T!  Then I got him some real pizza. None of this anorexic, Kate Moss crap that New York likes to think is pizza.

All in all, I had as great of a time as you can possibly have with a complete stranger that you thought might want to kill you. But, he didn’t. In fact, he made me a mixtape. You may wonder, why oh why are there no pictures of you? Or the two of you? Well, I will now use my extensive Salvation Army Barbie collection to answer your question. Guys, Salvation Army. Expecting them to be clothed is asking a lot. And frankly, snobbish.

So surely, you understand.

But, when I visit New York, my hair will cooperate, I won’t burn my forehead, it won’t be a 100 degrees, I won’t have a panic attack, I won’t receive very bad news that morning, and there will be pictures! 

Go forth, risk your life, and get your BlogDate on.

 

Blog Dating Is The New Black/ eHarmony/ Twitter/ SpeedDate/ Facebook Poke

Posted on by
80

No. This time I didn’t do anything drastic like move to London or start a retail store or give up tanning. But, I did meet up with a complete stranger from New York for a two-day BlogDate in Chicago, which I may have mentioned one, or fifty times, on my FaceSpace. I had to make sure I mentioned it regularly in case one of you had to work or something and missed a status update.

Now I know you’re all waiting with baited breath for the details of this excursion, and I assure you, they are coming at you faster than a chubby, asthmatic kid chasing after an ice cream cart.

 

 

Remember When You Hated Me, But You Were Lying To Yourself?

Posted on by
32

“Out beyond the ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.” – Rumi

So, okay. We’re in the field, you and me. Now, I want you to take a moment. Sit down. Relax. Close your eyes. Clear your mind and try not to ponder the great mysteries of the world such as: “why, WHY can’t Rose just SHARE THE RAFT?” or “why did ever we need encased meats?” Just let it go. And please remember, in the field, there is no right or wrong. We cannot recall the mistakes of others. There are cupcakes falling from the sky along with pink glittery things. We are full of inner love and positive thinking.

Okay, you are now free to leave the field.

I just thought that exercise might help us in curbing any misdirected anger you might have toward me lately for my lack of internet presence. I realize it seems like I don’t do anything around here, but kiddos, mama has been sweatin’ like a Mexican housekeeper. I can say that. I went to school with a girl who was Mexican.

So what have I been up to, you ask?

Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve spruced up the place. My blog layout was SO last year. Now you may think to yourself, eh, a simple blog redesign no. big. deal. But guess what, when you’ve been hacked and your crap is all jacked, and your database needs to be updated, and your feeds won’t work, and your hosting provider doesn’t speak English, and you hate dealing with website stuff more than you hate cheerful people before 10 am, and then when you finally do switch over to your new design none of your pictures transfer over – it is A BIG EFFING DEAL. Needless to say, the homepage posts are fixed, but I’ve got about 200 more to re-upload pics to. So if you look at older posts they might look weird FYI. Good thing none of you ever do.

Oh, I also transferred my blogroll to a new page called For The Wandering Eye, and I even wrote little love notes about your blogs (if I’ve forgotten you, please send a strongly worded email). And I’ve revamped my About and New Here pages with fun new pictures like this:

And remember how I’ve had my photography blog up for like a year but no actual website, cus I really like to eat pasta and sleep alot?? Yea, well, the Indigo Photography website is officially launched!

Wait, I know there was something else…. Oh that’s right! I am going on the world’s first BlogDate.

What is a BlogDate? Well, it’s when two people of similar backgrounds and personalities start innocently flirting over blog comments and then realize they’re soulmates except they’ve never met. Or, it’s two people who are just spontaneous and ridiculous and like to have fun. Jury’s still out. So Monday I head to the Windy City where my witty and handsome New York Blogboyfriend will be awaiting me. He did a little preview of our meeting on his blog also, if you wanna check yourself before you wreck yourself. And don’t you worry, I’m going to blow THE INTERNETS up with pictures and stories from this experience! And yes, I’ll be paying you all a long-overdue visit very soon!

There. That’s what I’ve been up to. Are you satisfied now or are you still gonna cop a ‘tude?

P. to the S. I must take this moment to send the biggest shout out of my LIFE to Jen and Cheryl from CaffeinatedDesigns. These girls are geniuses. I was pulling my ever-loving hair out and they found a way to sort out every computer problem I had – and I only needed two boxes of wine to get through it!

Follow me on FaceSpace or Twitter to keep updated!