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Mmm, raisins.

My sister and I were diligantly cleaning the house yesterday, sweeping, spraying noxious chemicals in the bathroom, collecting stray socks (Addy, our dumb dog likes to carry them around). We decided to clean underneath the desk in the living room where things are often stuffed when the house needs to get 'clean' fast.

She swept her hand underneath, feeling around and pulling out old papers and chopsticks when something black rolled out. Fascinated, sister picked it up and held it to her face.

"What is it?" She said as Addy strolled over and sat down beside me, also gazing wide-eyed at the unidentified object.

"Wait... EW! It's an old grape!" And with that she threw it onto my lap.

The grape was really more of a giant shriveled raisin, but it was hairy and I didn't want to touch it. How long had it been lying there? Days, weeks, months?

Luckily for me, dumb dog extended her neck and plucked the little fruit off my lap.

"NOM NOM NOM"

And like that... it was gone.

How to properly lick a bowl.

In case anyone has ever had trouble trying to clean a bowl with there tongue, these cleverly illustrated pictures should show you how.

It's a very delicate process, so be careful...

Bowl licking is not for the faint of heart.

Hornets are cool.

HAHA! I GOT YOU! my post title is slightly misleading! Hornets sting. That's not cool.

I just wanted to let you know there is a difference between a hornet, bee, and a wasp.

It's odd that people don't realize this... Or maybe in the rush to run away from the little insect the adrenaline clouds your vision and impairs thought process so you have no proper cognition.

I don't really know. I just needed something to go with this picture I drew.

Alohomora!

I am a big Harry Potter fan. Sometimes I feel like a sacrilegious git for liking it so much, but the truth is I'd have a hard time stopping.

When I first read the Deathly Hallows, I was sorely infuriated with the epilogue. I wanted to rip and tear the book apart, burn it in the fireplace then scatter its ashes in some abysmal garbage dump.

Of course, I did not. Then my collection wouldn't be complete, but I did cry out of pure rage. I didn't want Harry to be married. How was I supposed to dream about him falling for me if he was 30 or 40 years old?

YES

NO

Of course, I would have to turn him down for two reasons.
1. I have a boyfriend.
2. I do not dapple in the magical arts.

Sigh. I think that is the only time I was furious with JK Rowling.

Wait. That's a lie. I was pretty pissed when she killed Hedwig, Doby, Fred, and Moody.

Especially Fred...

Mammoth and Gary

A somewhat accurate portrayal of my relationships

Mammoth

If you don't understand, go here: First Mammoth

ANATOMY: Boys and girls

Grocery shopping is a hazard.

I could be rich if I wanted to...

Every now and then I like to pretend it's possible for me to get rich.

I could invent some menial, unnecessary item like crocs or those airport pillows shaped like animals.

Go to med school and become a brain surgeon or go to Harvard and be the world's best lawyer.

Possibly become a professional athlete or dancer.

Be the next Christina Aguilera...

A famous artist...

All unlikely.

I am Seriously Disillusioned

Last night I learned something that turned my life upside down. The truth was revealed to me, and I thought maybe it was all a practical joke, designed to make me feel like some inferior life form. Kind of like pond scum.

But ... Alas! It was not so.

My life has been lived in ignorance, wrongly believing in how babies are made. I thought to make a baby [BZZZZZZ!! INTERRUPTION/DISCLAIMER- Please scroll to the end of the blog for a happy picture of unicorns and walruses if you cannot handle blood, "the time of the month", birth, or dragons] you had to "do the deed" when it was that time of the month.

I could never understand how anyone had children that way, unless they were seriously sick in the head and loved the idea of swimming in blood. So I ignorantly thought most babies were happy mistakes. I was wrong.

Last night, my mom said she didn't realize people could get pregnant on their periods. WOAH. I was shocked. Though thoroughly confused, I played it off like, "Yeah. I know right? TOTALLY WACKO," while in my head, it felt like a thousand dragons simultaneously spontaneously combusted.

I had thought all along it was the only way. Sigh. I am always wrong.

My health class must have been boring.

It's not even Christmas yet.

Every year around this time, something magical and incredible happens... My sister starts to think she's Mariah Carey, and baby all she wants for Christmas is you.


She starts out a little slow, but LOUD.

During the last chorus, she ends writhing on the floor in happiness.


This whole phenomenon occurred early this year. I think it has something to do with the fact that Christmas carols were being played before Halloween. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I think drawing out the spirit of the holiday might make it less enjoyable.


On a different note, my dog sounds like he has cancer of the lungs. He was never much of a smoker, though.

Mammoth

It doesn't have to make sense. Laugh, cretin.

If you're lazy and you know it...

Last night I just wasn't feeling it. I did not want to do anything that required energy. The cold had sapped me of all my vivacity, and everything was suddenly looking difficult. I began taking shortcuts, even for menial tasks. I figured all the energy I saved would add up to something great in the end. It didn't.

After I showered, I decided shaving would be much too difficult. And I mean, it's winter, right? Who's going to see my gorilla legs when I wear pants? Then I realized when I sit down, my ankles become exposed to the frigid air and my peers wandering eyes... The solution was clear to me, shave just around the uncovered area.

It worked well enough. I haven't shaved in nearly three days now. My pants were very uncomfortable, though. Extremely itchy.

Then I didn't want to blow dry my hair. See, I'm supposed to put this stuff in it to keep it from looking like this:

...And it requires heat activation. Straightening or blow drying. I usually choose the latter. But I was being lazy. So I just put the goop in my hair and let it sit. BAD IDEA. STOOPID ME. My hair got all sticky and hard to brush afterwards, so finally I gave up and slept on it. In the morning, the goo had disappeared and I looked decent. By decent I mean...

I had trouble sleeping last night. at four AM I woke up and felt something lumpy in my bed. I'd been sleeping on one of those round brushes. The whole night. I'm cool.

I won't cut corners tonight.

Intellectual Humor?

If you haven't read Chaucer's Wife of Bath's Prologue and Story, this will make no sense to you.
I suggest you do. It's hilarious, empowering for women, and a tad immoral.

(Read the spark notes version if you want to understand.)

Magical Creatures of Awesome

I drew some pretty pictures during free period. I wanted to share with someone. Here they are. They got me thinking about what might happen if a unicorn and a dragon engaged in battle.

Would the fire-breathing, rib-crushing, head-eating dragon prevail... or would the mind-boggling magical skills of unicorns be enough to thwart the foe? Find out, next episode.*

*There probably won't be one.

Anatomy of a Dragon

The Funnies

*Please disregard the extra L in lollardy.

Bodily Functions

Today I was sitting and innocently watching the school play dress rehearsal with a friend*. We were having a pretty good time, sitting in the middle of the theater and taking pictures of the actors doing their thing, when I began to smell something.

*He wasn't actually a friend. More like a well-known acquaintance.

I had been gassy all day long, and frequently letting loose (silently- I have no doubt it was undetectable) in uncontrollable flatulence spasms. Now I wondered if perhaps the scent was attributed to one of these occurrences?

I shrunk down in my seat, hoping to stifle the smell, when my companion waved his hand in front of his nose, as if to say, "Whoo! It smells like someone has crapped their pants."

AWESOME.

In an effort to stall for time I whispered, "Yeah, dude. I was thinking the same thing. Something smells gross."

Shockingly, he answered, "Yeah, sorry. I had a cheeseburger last night and since then it's just been..."

I didn't hear the rest of what he said. There were two things wrong with this.

1. He owned up to his fart. Outside of family, this never happens.

2. He's hindu. Burger...? I think not!

I smiled weakly and nodded, then turned my attention to my cell phone, texting furiously.

Ah, but the awkward did not stop there, oh no.

"I was just going to text you that this is fun," He said (sarcastically the 'this is fun' part), "And I realized I don't have your number."

Really? That's very interesting... >__> ... It would have been impolite if I had not offered him my phone number. So I read it out loud for him, all the while thinking about how peculiar it was for him to steer

the conversation in this direction.

There are a few questions you just shouldn't ask if you've just farted.

I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and pretend he is even more socially inept than I am.