-When are they going to announce that Ben H. is the next bachelor?
-When they do that, can we start calling him “Ben”?
-“I know I should be asking her father for her hand…” So feminism is dead.
-“Now I can stand up and defend my girl.” Now feminism is rolling over in its grave.
-They’re really not going to tell us Ben H. is the Bachelor yet?
-Although if they have a Bachelor who is younger than I am it will hurt my feelings.
P.S. I watched all three hours in realtime (thus with commercials) while sporadically doing crunches last night, so I have no right to judge anyone.
“I’m insatiably curious- do you by chance ever repeatedly attempt to tuck your (curly) hair behind your ear? If so, do you merely push it back or do you grab it and deliberately guide it around your ears? I’d love to serenade you with classical music in exchange for the opportunity to watch you doing the latter ;)”
-Stranger I will not be dating, who compels me to go take a shower…or straighten my hair or something
(Seriously though, I just copied and pasted that from my inbox.)
First, a special shoutout to the Apple Store employee who walked my grandfather and his girlfriend through the really pleasurable experience of purchasing iPhones a.k.a. “the most patient man in the world.”
This past weekend, my mother and I visited my grandfather (E) and his girlfriend (S) in Florida, an ideal place to vacation in July. My father, who was not present and thus did not have to deal with the consequences of his actions, suggested they buy iPhones, these 90-year-olds who previously had flip phones that they never turned on and kept in the car at all times. (See future posts for notes on their driving.)
We spent 3.5 hours at the Apple Store, during which the following things were said:
(In attempt to sign on the screen): “Can I start over?”
(In response to “It’s free to make and receive calls”): “Can I call Europe?”
“If we’re keeping our phone numbers do we have to give new numbers to everybody?”
“Why are we doing this?”
Here are some things E and S do not know:
-Their social security numbers
-Where their licenses are
-Their zip code
-The difference between an email address and a password
-Any of their passwords
-Where they put their chargers
Day 2 resulted in another trip to the Apple store and then Verizon, because, of course, something went wrong. It was between these two stores that I had a meltdown with real tears.
My mother denied me sugary cereal when I was growing up. Of course I resented her for it at the time. I wanted Lucky Charms, Cocoa Puffs, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. When my older brother went away for summer camp, he wrote me long letters about the dessert he was eating for breakfast, and I was jealous.
Did it make me a healthy eater as an adult? Not really. Could I really go for a bowl of Lucky Charms right now? Totally. But I appreciate my mother’s efforts towards keeping me healthy and not fat. So thanks, Mom, for not feeding me candy for breakfast.
Now a question for the woman who was actually feeding her kids candy for breakfast: Do you really dislike their camp counselors that much?
Come on. Lucky Charms are one thing. Straight up Starbursts? I know I’m not a parent, but I think I’m entitled to judge you for that. You’re not the one who has to deal with the consequences, after all. Think of those poor high school/college students who have to play charades with them all day, and now they have to do it while your kids are hopped up on sugar. (Side note: I could fill a book with my camp counseloring and babysitting stories. Another time.)
Excuse the multiple posts in one day, but today I saw something so horrifying, so completely despicable, that I had to take to the internet with my fury.
Oreo “Thins” (quotes mine) are something that are about to exist.
There are some things in this world that have come to be accepted as a given. The sun is bigger than the earth. Climate change is real, and humans are responsible for it. And, of course, the filling is the only point to an Oreo.
Double Stuf is really the only kind that matters, except when mint is available. Really, they need to make a Double Stuf Mint variety, but I do understand that I’m in the minority as someone who loves chocolate mint. But I refuse to believe there is anyone who thinks Oreos can be improved by cutting back on the stuf. Except, apparently, the author of the above Today Food post. But if you’re not an Oreo person to begin with, you don’t deserve an opinion. Of course you’re just going to like something that includes less Oreo if you don’t like Oreos.
These cookies of betrayal can hardly even be called cookies. They’re fake cookies. Fookies, if you will.
This just makes me sad. I was at Rite Aid the other day and walked by the center aisle, where there was a whole display of ugly clothes. Not Halloween costumes or anything, just regular clothes. The highlight was a pink bubble shirt.
If you don’t know what a bubble shirt is, you probably weren’t a middle school girl in 2001 like I was. They were all the rage for about thirty seconds, highly coveted in the tween set, and I did not have one. But by god did I want one.
I guess I never realized how ugly they were. And I guess Rite Aid never realized that nobody has worn them in fourteen years.
Anyway, this is a just a sad fact of life that apparently people shop for clothes at Rite Aid. Like, lemme pick up an outfit that will go with my deodorant. Damn will I look fine and totally like an adult in that bubble top.