Where The Sun Shouldn't Shine

I think sometimes the sun shines in the wrong locations for people. Take for example the photo I took above. I took this photo in Wal-Mart a few weeks ago. I do not think Sarah Palin should be associated with the Bible. Just because she professes to read it doesn't mean they fall under the same caliber. Quite frankly I believe it acts as a very ostentatious paper weight on her coffee table.

Other places the sun should NOT shine...

Brides who want to compete for plastic surgery for their wedding. For copy write reasons I won't name the name of this show but it rhymes with vital-nasty. And nasty is what it is. Do woman really need to pull a Michael Myers hack job on their bodies for the sake of one over priced day of luxury?

The sun also shouldn't shine on parents who let their kids eat whatever they want. I am so sick of this. YOUR KID IS GETTING FAT. Did you know this? Do you not watch Maury Povich? OBESE BABIES!!!! They are ridiculously interesting to watch on reality TV but not something you should cultivate for the neighborhood side show.

Oprah. The sun should dim a little over Oprah. A co-worker of mine brought up a good point the other day. Does Oprah really need her face on EVERY cover of her own magazine? Do you think perhaps we're sick of staring at her air-brushed bleached teeth?

I also believe the sun shouldn't shine on douche bags. Men that are just jerks. The one's that don't quite care about your reaction to their hairy grunts and ignorant disgusting comments. Men who spend 90% of their time at the gym for the soul purpose of being able to say to promiscuous woman that they spend 90% of their time at the gym. The men who text you at 2:30am thinking you'll actually respond to their request to "hang out". DB's need not exist.


Please post below other places where you feel the sun shouldn't shine (excluding anatomy please)

The Greatest Anthropological Experiment

You're probably wondering where this experiment happens. It is in fact the greatest anthropological experiment known to man. This place is a wonderland of cultures melted and forced into one atmosphere.

Where?

...the gym.


I've been studying the "Gym" for quite some time now. Watching how the mammals ebb and flow amongst each other. I would like to classify some of these creatures for you in this post. I'm sure you will have seen these species before. Perhaps you are one?

Bro

No, he's not your brother. He's your "bro". This is what he's called by his male friends in his species. Bro wears a sleeveless shirt to the gym. It's not appropriate for him to hide is gigantic upper arms. Don't be concerned about his muscle mass though. It's only in his biceps and triceps. The rest is normal. Bro is tall. He's too good to work out so much that be becomes square and his height compensates for him looking like a cyborg. Bro can't be confused with the run of the mill body builders because he has made sure to tattoo himself sufficiently to escape that niche of muscle beasts. To seem inconspicuous he wears a baseball hat of a team from the Midwest that he's never seen play in person. Bro has other bros that he speaks with on occasion. But this bro is a regular and even the gym staff can define him from the pack.

Lashes

This is the lady in the kingdom who likes to wear an unnecessary amount of makeup to the gym. Her hair is pin straight and long. Gently pulled back into a soft wispy pony tail. If she has bangs they fall gently to one side of her face and never seem to look like they've been involved in a deeply heated relationship with sweat. Lashes takes care to make sure she is always wearing brand new sneakers and tight fitting gym apparel. Usually black on the bottom to be slimming and some kind of neon pink top so she'll be noticed. If her hair isn't fake blond it's dark brown. Never an edgy color will you see Lashes attempt. Lashes rigor at the gym involves 20 minutes brisk run on the treadmill, trip to the bathroom, lift 5lbs weights for 20 reps, trip to the bathroom, crunches, trip to the bathroom, attempt at using the dumbbell but then get lost in a conversation with a bro, trip to the bathroom.

Humbly Handsome

This guy is trying not to let anyone know he's kind of a catch. He wears sweats he bought from the college bookstore, baseball cap so no one notices him, and a long sleeve shirt to hide his actual good looking physic. He doesn't want the women in the gym to know he's checking them out so as soon as they make eye contact he looks away. Often he goes to the gym with friends because he doesn't enjoy being alone. He plays college sports but won't go pro and doesn't mind that. The drawback; he'll be there for another 10 years doing the same thing.

Old Man/Young Man

The OMYM is extremely fun to watch. His hair sticks out long under his ball cap from 1984. The same locks are slightly graying. Did I mention this hat was worn backwards? No? Well, it is. He also wears a cut off polyester shirt to mask the gut that is forming from excessive consumption of Pabst Blue Light or any other cheap beer on tap. Shorts, very hairy 50 year old man legs, and white sneakers complete the ensemble. OMYM loves the ladies. Unfortunately for him, hey don't love him back. Something about the giant headphones, scruffy 8am shadow, and the 70's pick up lines just don't make the OMYM sparkle like Edward Cullen.

PS-Geek

This is the guy that's addicted to his PS3, WOW, D&D, and pretty much any game that detracts from normal social interaction in society. The PS-Geek wears really big glasses because he's afraid of contacts. Something about dirt in his eyes turning into syphilis. The PS-Geek doesn't cut his hair and just plain doesn't care. His hope is that if he exercises that someday he'll meet a girl there, or anywhere.

Grams

Grams really doesn't need to go to the gym. She's set. She has kids, family, and a husband who in a million years wouldn't set foot in the gym. Grams was told by her doctor that she should be more physically fit. She has also been reading a lot of O Magazine and feels that she must boost her confidence or at least heart rate. Grams doesn't make eye contact with anyone at the gym and reads romance novels on the treadmill while listening to Josh Groban and REM.

Love Me Love Me

This is the lady in her 20's that hopes beyond everything that she won't give in to that pint of ice cream that she's about to buy after she leaves the gym. LMLM has super low self esteem and changes in the bathroom stalls. She stares at the handsome men in the gym periodically until they notice she's started to drool at which point she drinks from her over-sized water bottle to detract from the moisture on her face. LMLM wears headgear at night and has created atomic wedgies for herself more powerful that Hiroshima.




Well those are just some of the species I've found roaming the gym. Post some species you've seen below this. After all, new species are discovered every day!

Octo-Problem

All right. Before you read this post you should read the link below...

http://www.localnews8.com/news/26323232/detail.html?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter

Now that you've read the above article, I would like to give eight reasons why OCTO mother should not have her children in her custody. And quite frankly, I mean all 14 of them.

1. She doesn't have a home. Actually she hasn't for some time according to that article. Perhaps she owns some grocery bags to put her belongings in, but certainly not a home.

2. She will impose her skewed and Angelina Jolie oriented self image upon her daughters and feminine sons.

3. She's insane

4. When her sons begin boy scouts the other parents will be afraid that "Mama Sule" will try to be the den mother.

5. She consistently smells like baby powder and urine.

6, Gerber only has so much formula and once the pumps have broken it will take an entire staff at McDonalds to feed her family. Of course, that is if she can manage to get an advertising deal with the company in order to pay for food. HGH worked on octomom and it can work on your burger too!

7. There aren't enough hours in the day to teach 14 children how to read.

8. Heaven forbid one of those kids makes it to the White House. Where would they all stay? You better believe mom moves in first!

Drink The Better Water

This morning I had one of those things everyone hopes of having when they work in an office. Yes, it was an epiphany. This happened when I went to fill my two water bottles for the day.

You see recently I've been hung up on the quality of life. More dating, more money, more clothes, more time, more tweets. And such is the case with most in their mid twenties. But it really shouldn't be, this is the time for quality.

Which brings me back to the water bottles. There are two options for filtered water in my office building. One is a regular fountain which takes too long to run and the water quality is a bit poor. The other is farther from my desk, it's a little bit harder to fill the bottles since there's no drain below said spout which is hooked to the a refrigerator. However, when walking farther to this refrigerator the quality of the water is much better.

So this is a small example of quality. But quality is so overlooked nowadays. I mean have you seen Jersey Shore? That cast walked out of an online ad for www.genericcrapwestillcan'tafford.com which by the way is a free domain if you want it.

And so I go upon my life journey. I will begin to save my money once again. I will buy expensive shoes, and that coat that will take me a year to pay off but last me five. I will take care of my car and eat good food so the warranty on my body doesn't run out as fast as those smokers in the trailer park. And one day when I have the financial means to afford Burberry and $12 a plate is an afterthought I will look back and say to myself, boy...I'm glad I chose the better water.

Hey! I'm Mormon...whoops...

Recently I haven't cared about what people think when I say I'm Mormon. Gosh golly gee, I have something to believe in! Thank goodness I don't think I'm a waste of space in society. I (personally) know why I'm on this earth. Which, by the way, is pretty freaking cool.

Earthquakes? Yeah, they'll happen. Am I scared? Well, a little. But honestly, I'm glad I have faith and I'm not afraid to share my beliefs.

But...I do want you to be aware, if you don't agree, that is OKAY WITH ME! If you're happy, then you're happy. I won't push my religion on you. I really won't. But I will surely answer your questions.

Anyhow, this is a bit of a rant since it is 3:00am and I decided to pull an all nighter to take my very awesome friend to the airport after her original flight was canceled. That friend sparked the writing of this post, because she was been so patient as I rambled on about my religion, and not because I wanted to convert her, mostly because I just like to talk. Perhaps I even talk too much in my blog? I digress.

Well, after reading this...if you're wondering what I believe, there's a linky you can click on, or not. It is your decision.

Have a great day! I will spend mine in a sleep deprived stupor with an IV of Diet Coke hooked to my arm.

Christmas Cards and Getting Fat

I have two qualms about the holiday season...Christmas cards and getting fat.

Christmas cards will be my first qualm. Why do we send these generic pieces of cardboard crap? With awful sayings like "may your holiday season be joyous and your heart be filled". Filled with what? Artery clogging fruitcake, cookies, and ham? I think not. So, instead of sending stupid generic wastes of space in the society of cards, I took matters into my own hands. My card has a photo of me dressed as character from MadTV. Granted, it does say happy holidays but that's about as close as I get to generic in this card. Additionally, I've filled it with sparkles and sequins just to piss my friends off and have a constant reminder during the week that I care.

For those of you who read my blog and get my card, I'm sorry to ruin the surprise!

The second qualm that gets me is getting fat during Christmas. Freaking get fat! Eat everything! Heck, I'm using Christmas as an excuse to eat other foods that aren't Christmas oriented. I mean I'm sure I could ask McDonalds to cut my McDouble into a Christmas star but that would be somewhat sacrilegious now wouldn't it?

So above all. Enjoy this time. Relish in the screaming kool-aid mouth ringed children and the seasonal ex-cons working in the mall. Enjoy the grandmother who runs over your foot with her automatic wheel chair in WalMart and the clients who call you on December 23rd demanding a refund for something they've damaged. Give joy to the world of Warcraft that your boyfriend would rather play than spend time with you, and come all ye faithful mothers who don't want to bake one more gosh darn cookie for her child's teacher who has already made fun of said mothers kankles.

Peace on nog good will to figgy pudding (or whatever that substance is called).

Popular "Tweeps"

So I've recently taken a liking to Twitter. I think it's a great and novel Idea. It's true, no one gives a crap about anything past 140 characters. We don't have time for 150 characters. We just don't. There are other more important things we could be doing instead of reading 150+ characters. Things like doing the tutorials for your online banking, darning socks, calling your cousin from Jersey you knew would never amount to anything, purchasing something from the home shopping network, pondering other careers for The Rock, joining internet dating sites, and watching Bernie Sanders talk for 8 and a half hours. All of those things take priority over 150 characters.

Unfortunately, there are some people who think they're too good to respond to someone's 140 characters. Now I'm not talking about the verified celebrities we follow in order to get their daily nuggets of wisdom. I'm talking about local celebrities, or businesses that don't respond to you when you clearly tweet AT them. When you even use the "@" symbol and their Twitter name.

Let me inform you crazy narcissistic fools, you are not too good for any TWEEP! You just aren't. You must respond. That is the point of Twitter. For people who don't know each other to talk freely and about utter nonsense with one another without feeling as though they will be judged for their thought of less than 141 characters.

As I said before, the worst ones are the ones that aren't even famous. Typically the one's that don't respond don't want to hurt their image, but they don't have an image at all. They think that heaven forbid they respond to this Tweep that the Tweep might actually think that they're formulating a relationship. Nope, wrong, they're probably mentioning you in their tweet because they think you're somewhat ignorant and they want the world to know. For which case you should probably respond otherwise you look like a jerk bag. That's right, I said jerk bag. And now, I will coin that phrase and put it on Twitter.

So don't be a jerk bag. Respond to me when I @ you on Twitter. Because when I'm famous, you'll want to follow me, you'll want to @ me, and I won't sink to your level, because I know now that I am better than you and your generic background and 17 friends.