Since I'm such a fan of free stuff, I'm always on the lookout for giveaways and coupons and stuff like that. Whenever I hear someone start a sentence with, "Hey, does anybody want…" I immediately say "DIBS!" And I usually do it before they even finish their sentence. That's how I've gotten a free pool table, a Duracell induction charging station, a digital copy of Inception, and (perhaps most impressively) a Spicy Chicken Biscuit from Chick-fil-A. So when someone at our church emailed everyone last week saying they had some bunk beds they were giving away, my wife and I emailed immediately (even though she wouldn't let me respond with a simple "DIBS!").
The catch was that I had to go to their house and dismantle them, load them into my car, and unload them into my house once I got home. A small price to pay for beds that are stackable. And step 1 went smoothly. I dismantled the bed pretty quickly. But loading the bed components was a nightmare. It wasn't for lack of room. I'm very adept at packing a car with boards and beams. It was the mattresses being tied to the roof-rack that became the problem.
Now if it was just me doing it, it would have taken about three minutes. But as luck would have it, the family that gave us the beds is a family of scouts. Their son is a Boy Scout and the wife is the troop leader. And I'm fairly sure the husband can build a fire with wet pinecones and a piece of cement. The problem was that they had special knots they wanted to use to tie the mattresses down. And they spent a good 10 minutes just deciding which knot would be best for each corner. Then they took another 5 minutes on each knot, making sure the mattresses were secure enough to survive driving them through a hurricane. Even if my car was torn apart by 650 mile/hour winds, the mattresses would still be tied securely to the roof-rack.
Then I got home and had to untie each of their 12 different knots to unload everything. Now my fingers hurt and I'm not convinced they weren't messing with me.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
It Can't Be Comfortable, Even If It's Velvet
I'll apologize in advance for those of you offended by the words "butt" or "wedgie." I will be using them multiple times during today's post. So if you're not comfortable reading them, please skip this post. And for those of you sticking around, let us venture on into today's story!
So I went out to eat with my family recently and we decided to try out a newly-opened Mexican restaurant in town. We weren't sure what the dress code was since it was a new place, so we took a chance and wore jeans. And after comparing our clothing with that of the people at the table next to us, we realized we were highly overdressed. I say this because the people at the table next to us were wearing artistically torn Ed Hardy shirts with trucker hats (for the guys) and crushed velvet tracksuits (for the girls). And I don't think the tracksuits were meant to be "crushed" velvet. I think they started out as velvet and were overworn to the point of crushing.
Now I'm sure some or most of you are familiar with a brand of clothing called "PINK" or "LOVE PINK" (I'm not sure on the official name, but that's what's plastered all over the outfits). And across the butt is usually the word "PINK" with the "PI" on the left and the "NK" on the right (I didn't want to say "cheek" but that's what I'm talking about when I say "left" and "right"). Now in my family, instead of talking about wedgies openly, we try to come up with creative ways to discuss these backend clothing anomalies. An example of this would be one of us saying "Her pants are so far up there, I wonder if she can taste them." Or my personal favorite… "I think her butt is hungry because it's trying to eat her pants."
Well, one particular young lady was wearing a "PINK" tracksuit and had the most colossal wedgie I've ever witnessed in my life. It was so intense, that her butt simply read "PK" instead of "PINK." Her butt had actually devoured the middle two letters of the word! And the normal ways of describing wedgies were just not enough. So we spent the rest of the meal trying to figure out a new term that would do it justice. We decided on a term and I think we're going to keep using it because it's so fun to say. So the next time you see a monumental, gravitational-pull-of-a-planet type of a wedgie, join us in referring to it as "The Very Hungry Butt-apillar." (Now say it out loud. I told you it was fun!)
So I went out to eat with my family recently and we decided to try out a newly-opened Mexican restaurant in town. We weren't sure what the dress code was since it was a new place, so we took a chance and wore jeans. And after comparing our clothing with that of the people at the table next to us, we realized we were highly overdressed. I say this because the people at the table next to us were wearing artistically torn Ed Hardy shirts with trucker hats (for the guys) and crushed velvet tracksuits (for the girls). And I don't think the tracksuits were meant to be "crushed" velvet. I think they started out as velvet and were overworn to the point of crushing.
Now I'm sure some or most of you are familiar with a brand of clothing called "PINK" or "LOVE PINK" (I'm not sure on the official name, but that's what's plastered all over the outfits). And across the butt is usually the word "PINK" with the "PI" on the left and the "NK" on the right (I didn't want to say "cheek" but that's what I'm talking about when I say "left" and "right"). Now in my family, instead of talking about wedgies openly, we try to come up with creative ways to discuss these backend clothing anomalies. An example of this would be one of us saying "Her pants are so far up there, I wonder if she can taste them." Or my personal favorite… "I think her butt is hungry because it's trying to eat her pants."
Well, one particular young lady was wearing a "PINK" tracksuit and had the most colossal wedgie I've ever witnessed in my life. It was so intense, that her butt simply read "PK" instead of "PINK." Her butt had actually devoured the middle two letters of the word! And the normal ways of describing wedgies were just not enough. So we spent the rest of the meal trying to figure out a new term that would do it justice. We decided on a term and I think we're going to keep using it because it's so fun to say. So the next time you see a monumental, gravitational-pull-of-a-planet type of a wedgie, join us in referring to it as "The Very Hungry Butt-apillar." (Now say it out loud. I told you it was fun!)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Comments On My Comment?
I saw a zebra car the other day. And I don't mean a car with a zebra paint job. I mean a zebra car. "What's the difference?" you might ask. Well, a car with a zebra paint job is just that. But a zebra car comes complete with a 6-foot tail and floppy ears.
I posted this on my Facebook status and my older brother told me he was disappointed in me because I didn't provide pictures (using the word "disowned" in his comment). And I took that as a challenge to respond with a super funny comment. You be the judge of whether or not it's funny. Here's what I wrote:
In my defense, I'm kind of an idiot. Also, the last time I took a picture of something weird I saw, it ended up being a hallucination. And the lady I mistook for a "hobbit clown" was offended.
So what do you think? Funny enough? Original enough? If not, what should I have said?
I posted this on my Facebook status and my older brother told me he was disappointed in me because I didn't provide pictures (using the word "disowned" in his comment). And I took that as a challenge to respond with a super funny comment. You be the judge of whether or not it's funny. Here's what I wrote:
In my defense, I'm kind of an idiot. Also, the last time I took a picture of something weird I saw, it ended up being a hallucination. And the lady I mistook for a "hobbit clown" was offended.
So what do you think? Funny enough? Original enough? If not, what should I have said?
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Nepotism Schmepotism
My older brother got hired on with my employer. Which is great news. He's needed a new line of work for a while, and I think he'll be good at the new job. But I do have one complaint.
Just five minutes after my older brother walked in for his interview, he was already showing me up. I was immediately told that I'd lost my cool nickname ("Grizz") because my facial hair paled in comparison to that of my brother's. And I was bombarded with questions ("Wow, how tall is he?" and "Is he really named after the legendary Dallas Cowboys' coach?") which all translated to "Why aren't you as cool as him?"
And if that wasn't enough, he got a cooler nickname. They're gonna call him "Grizz 2.0" because he's the new, improved Grizz. So not only did I lose my nickname, but he got an improved version of it.
Okay, it wasn't really that bad. He's a likeable guy and everybody who met him agreed. And I will do my best not to pretend I got him the job. I'll try really hard not to tell him that he "owes me one." And I won't necessarily hold it over his head and make him buy me lunch (Taco Bell) or remind him what I had to do to get his resume in the right hands. I won't do that (probably).
But I will blog about it. And I think having my older brother working with me will give me some more material for this blog. But if he embarrasses me too much, I'll be forced to destroy him. Landry, if you're reading this… you've been warned. And congratulations on the job!
Just five minutes after my older brother walked in for his interview, he was already showing me up. I was immediately told that I'd lost my cool nickname ("Grizz") because my facial hair paled in comparison to that of my brother's. And I was bombarded with questions ("Wow, how tall is he?" and "Is he really named after the legendary Dallas Cowboys' coach?") which all translated to "Why aren't you as cool as him?"
And if that wasn't enough, he got a cooler nickname. They're gonna call him "Grizz 2.0" because he's the new, improved Grizz. So not only did I lose my nickname, but he got an improved version of it.
Okay, it wasn't really that bad. He's a likeable guy and everybody who met him agreed. And I will do my best not to pretend I got him the job. I'll try really hard not to tell him that he "owes me one." And I won't necessarily hold it over his head and make him buy me lunch (Taco Bell) or remind him what I had to do to get his resume in the right hands. I won't do that (probably).
But I will blog about it. And I think having my older brother working with me will give me some more material for this blog. But if he embarrasses me too much, I'll be forced to destroy him. Landry, if you're reading this… you've been warned. And congratulations on the job!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Proof That Inception Is Possible
When my wife and I were dating in college, I would go hang out with her and her roommates a lot. One day I had a class that was cancelled (okay, I skipped). So I showed up at their apartment and noticed that one of my wife's roommates (we'll call her "Eva") had left her keys in the door. I figured it was an accident, so I decided to mess with her. Since they weren't expecting me to be there that early in the day, I grabbed her keys and moved her car around the corner out of view. Then I waited about 10 minutes for good measure and knocked on the door.
And this is where the beauty of a good prank is… in the details. It's too easy to say, "Hey, someone just drove off in your car." And it would be too obvious. You have to let the prank recipient come to their own conclusion. It's a lot like what they did in Inception. You have to make your subject believe the idea was their own.
So as soon as "Eva" answered the door, the following exchange took place:
Me: "Hey, did I just miss your brother?"
Eva (confused): "What do you mean?"
Me: "Lloyd. Is he borrowing your car again?" (It took me ten minutes to remember his name.)
Eva (looking at her empty parking spot): "No, he wasn't here. But where's my…."
That's when "Eva" looked around the parking lot and stared into space for a moment. Then she suddenly looked at the doorknob and clapped her hand over her mouth with a gasp. So I had to keep playing my part:
Me: "What? What's wrong?"
Eva: "I left my keys in the door!"
Me (holding back a grin and acting thoroughly confused): "For Lloyd?"
Eva: "No. Oh no! Oh no!"
Then she bolted into the apartment and told her roommates that someone stole her car. And since I hadn't let either of them in on the joke, they reacted perfectly and they went into a tizzy over what might have happened to her car. I let her freak out about it for a few minutes (while everyone kept saying "oh no" and kept looking up and down the street with both hands on their heads). And as soon as she picked up the phone to call the police, I handed her the keys.
She learned a valuable lesson that day (don't live with anyone who would date me). And while I lost a friend forever, it was totally worth it. You should have seen her face!
And this is where the beauty of a good prank is… in the details. It's too easy to say, "Hey, someone just drove off in your car." And it would be too obvious. You have to let the prank recipient come to their own conclusion. It's a lot like what they did in Inception. You have to make your subject believe the idea was their own.
So as soon as "Eva" answered the door, the following exchange took place:
Me: "Hey, did I just miss your brother?"
Eva (confused): "What do you mean?"
Me: "Lloyd. Is he borrowing your car again?" (It took me ten minutes to remember his name.)
Eva (looking at her empty parking spot): "No, he wasn't here. But where's my…."
That's when "Eva" looked around the parking lot and stared into space for a moment. Then she suddenly looked at the doorknob and clapped her hand over her mouth with a gasp. So I had to keep playing my part:
Me: "What? What's wrong?"
Eva: "I left my keys in the door!"
Me (holding back a grin and acting thoroughly confused): "For Lloyd?"
Eva: "No. Oh no! Oh no!"
Then she bolted into the apartment and told her roommates that someone stole her car. And since I hadn't let either of them in on the joke, they reacted perfectly and they went into a tizzy over what might have happened to her car. I let her freak out about it for a few minutes (while everyone kept saying "oh no" and kept looking up and down the street with both hands on their heads). And as soon as she picked up the phone to call the police, I handed her the keys.
She learned a valuable lesson that day (don't live with anyone who would date me). And while I lost a friend forever, it was totally worth it. You should have seen her face!
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