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Showing posts with label Kinda Funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kinda Funny. Show all posts
8.31.2010
6.20.2010
5.31.2010
Are You Achin' for Some Bacon?
If only every Saturday morning began with a breakfast of pancakes like these!
Check out the pictures on this guy's Pancake Blog.
Also, this made me laugh out loud, and I needed to share...
5.14.2010
Not What You Think
Interns have very important jobs, and help out a ton.
I live in good ol' dorm style apartments--communal floor bathrooms and all--and if the guys on my floor can walk to the shower in their boxer, then what's wrong with me doing the same?
If I don't have my contacts in and something small and black appears to be moving on the floor, it's probably my imagination, right?
Most people have really good hearts, especially those that are kind enough to call you "beautiful" on the subway late at night and offer to carry your heavy bags for you.
5.11.2010
Them Guys Got Moves
A guy was playing Bad Romance by Lady Gaga in the subway last night.
Not sure which is better, a muscular black dude breaking out in song with his guitar or the moves these guys came up with:
*sigh* ...A much needed laugh this evening. :)
Not sure which is better, a muscular black dude breaking out in song with his guitar or the moves these guys came up with:
*sigh* ...A much needed laugh this evening. :)
3.25.2010
Busy, Busy, Busy!
Yeah, it's been awhile.
My sincerest apologies to my readers, especially my consistent follower—Dad.
Here is a brief summation of all of the things I've thought: "I really need to write this on my blog." But then was quickly inhibited by this thought: "No time! No time! What the?! How long has that been in my planner for today?"
1. Did you know that the basement of the JFSB is designed to convert into a morgue in case of mass destruction?! Each room is equipped with its own thermostat, so that individual rooms can be dropped to freezing temperatures as needed. I guess the-powers-that-be are anticipating a major disaster in the Utah county area. But, hey, at least they're prepared with a morgue! Now, isn't that comforting?...
2. The primary reason I've been so out of touch with the world recently, is because I'm premiering three documentaries within the next month! I'm producing one radio documentary and two television documentaries. My favorite documentary is scheduled to premier two weeks from today! Crazy! If you want to come, just join this Facebook group for all of the info.
3. I "ran into" Travis the other day. Funny story.
4. I got eight fillings at the dentist at once. Not a funny story. And I'm not happy about it either. I ALWAYS brush my teeth. But apparently I inherited my dad's teeth, which apparently means I have a slightly more acidic mouth and slightly less resistant enamel. Again, not happy.
5. I experimented with some new recipes again, and I found a new favorite! Chocolate chip scones are tasty! ...especially when I accidentally put in Baking Soda instead of Baking Powder. I did some research, and I'm still not entirely positive of what the difference is, but I am sure I loved the mistake!
For some reason, I had a whole lot more to update you on; however, can't seem to think of anything else right now. Actually, I can't seem to think of much of anything at all right now.
Time for bed.
Come to the premier! I. AM. SO. EXCITED.
My sincerest apologies to my readers, especially my consistent follower—Dad.
Here is a brief summation of all of the things I've thought: "I really need to write this on my blog." But then was quickly inhibited by this thought: "No time! No time! What the?! How long has that been in my planner for today?"
1. Did you know that the basement of the JFSB is designed to convert into a morgue in case of mass destruction?! Each room is equipped with its own thermostat, so that individual rooms can be dropped to freezing temperatures as needed. I guess the-powers-that-be are anticipating a major disaster in the Utah county area. But, hey, at least they're prepared with a morgue! Now, isn't that comforting?...
2. The primary reason I've been so out of touch with the world recently, is because I'm premiering three documentaries within the next month! I'm producing one radio documentary and two television documentaries. My favorite documentary is scheduled to premier two weeks from today! Crazy! If you want to come, just join this Facebook group for all of the info.
3. I "ran into" Travis the other day. Funny story.
4. I got eight fillings at the dentist at once. Not a funny story. And I'm not happy about it either. I ALWAYS brush my teeth. But apparently I inherited my dad's teeth, which apparently means I have a slightly more acidic mouth and slightly less resistant enamel. Again, not happy.
5. I experimented with some new recipes again, and I found a new favorite! Chocolate chip scones are tasty! ...especially when I accidentally put in Baking Soda instead of Baking Powder. I did some research, and I'm still not entirely positive of what the difference is, but I am sure I loved the mistake!
For some reason, I had a whole lot more to update you on; however, can't seem to think of anything else right now. Actually, I can't seem to think of much of anything at all right now.
Time for bed.
Come to the premier! I. AM. SO. EXCITED.
3.03.2010
Entertainment 4
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c | |||
| The Uninformant | ||||
| ||||
And... make sure when you give instructions to your cake decorator, you remind them not to write the instructions ON the cake! ...or accidently put scissors in the cake!
These are stories and test questions accumulated by music teachers in the state of Missouri:
Refrain means don't do it. A refrain in music is the part you better not try to sing.
A virtuoso is a musician with real high morals.
John Sebastian Bach died from 1750 to the present.
Handel was half German, half Italian, and half English. He was rather large.
Beethoven wrote music even though he was deaf. He was so deaf he wrote loud music. He took long walks in the forest even when everyone was calling him. I guess he could not hear so good. Beethoven expired in 1827 and later died from this.
Henry Purcell is a well known composer few people have ever heard of.
Aaron Copland is one of your most famous contemporary composers. It is unusual to be contemporary. Most composers do not live until they are dead.
An opera is a song of bigly size.
Music sung by two people at the same time is called a duel.
Most authorities agree that music of antiquity was written long ago.
My favorite composer is Opus.
A harp is a nude piano.
A tuba is much larger than its name.
Instruments come in many sizes, shapes and orchestras.
A harp is a nude piano.
A tuba is much larger than its name.
Instruments come in many sizes, shapes and orchestras.
A bassoon looks like nothing I have ever heard.
Last month I found out how a clarinet works by taking it apart. I both found out and got in trouble.
Last month I found out how a clarinet works by taking it apart. I both found out and got in trouble.
A contra-bassoon is like a bassoon, only more so.
Tubas are a bit too much.
Tubas are a bit too much.
Just about any animal skin can be stretched over a frame to make a pleasant sound once the animal is removed.
Q - Is the saxophone a brass or a woodwind instrument?
A - Yes.
Entertainment 1
Entertainment 2
Entertainment 3
Q - Is the saxophone a brass or a woodwind instrument?
A - Yes.
Entertainment 1
Entertainment 2
Entertainment 3
1.21.2010
Conan vs. Jay
Have you been following the most recent scandal at NBC?
Well, most of the nation has.
And here's what Conan O'Brien thinks about it!
*****NBC removed this video from Hulu and all known YouTube posts. A friend of mine luckily downloaded the video before NBC removed it, and you can watch it on my link to his Facebook.
Well, most of the nation has.
And here's what Conan O'Brien thinks about it!
*****NBC removed this video from Hulu and all known YouTube posts. A friend of mine luckily downloaded the video before NBC removed it, and you can watch it on my link to his Facebook.
1.16.2010
12.15.2009
Entertainment
Although I often have things that draw me away from this blog (e.g. finals, homework, actual people to converse with), I figured you have all the time in the world, and surely you must pine away in front of your computer waiting for me to post again and again and again. Because this must be the case, I thought I'd give you something to occupy your time while I am busy doing other things (e.g. finals, homework, actually conversing with people).
Waste some time! Enjoy! ...I did. :)
Thank you YouTube! What would we do without you?...
Waste some time! Enjoy! ...I did. :)
Thank you YouTube! What would we do without you?...
11.20.2009
11.18.2009
Toast!
Hehe. This came from my dad. I like.
Anna,
Today a woman shared with me a toast that she and her roommates used to give in college before they would have a drink together (water of course). I thought you might find it handy at some dinner, so here it is.
Here’s to the boys that we like. Here’s to the boys that like us. Since the boys that we like aren’t the boys that like us, to heck with the boys here’s to us.
Love,
Dad
Thanks, Dad.
Anna,
Today a woman shared with me a toast that she and her roommates used to give in college before they would have a drink together (water of course). I thought you might find it handy at some dinner, so here it is.
Here’s to the boys that we like. Here’s to the boys that like us. Since the boys that we like aren’t the boys that like us, to heck with the boys here’s to us.
Love,
Dad
Thanks, Dad.
11.02.2009
Elang Test/Exam?
I'm not doing very (good/well) right now. Just thinking about this Elang usage test (affects/effects) my physical, mental and emotional well being. The (above/same) has (a/an) historic reputation for causing such discomfort. My professor (implied/inferred) (that) a good grade on this exam could (be) quite difficult to achieve. (If/Whether) I pass this test (and/or) get a good grade, I just might not feel so (bad/badly) about myself. I've (continuously/continually) thought about this test and considered (laying/lying) down to easy the ache at the base of my head; but I (kind of/sort of) think I should stay up and study more. I am (one of those anal types who stress(es)) all the time , and (whoever/whomever) tells me to "calm down" simply is (disinterested/uninterested) in (my) passing this (battery of tests). I (myself) know I'm going to be (all right/alright), but this test is just (different from/than) any other test I've ever taken. Often (one) feels as though they are drifting (farther/further) and (farther/further) away from (their) goals. But (due to the fact that) this test will have (fewer/less) questions than I originally anticipated, I'm sure I (ain't) going to do horridly. The (reason I get stressed is because), (between/among) you and (I/me), I'm simply not prepared. Tests sneak up on me (as/like) a monster in the night. I just (can't not) pass this test. I (shall/will) be successful!
1.29.2009
I Thought This Was Hilarious!
The Poetry Judge
by Garrison Keillor
(The Atlantic, Feb.96)
BEGINNING:
THERE are four hundred poems," the president of the poetry society said over the phone, "but judging won't take you that long, because most of them are pretty bad." The next day the poems arrived in an apple carton, three bundles bound with rubber bands, and I spread them out in the squares of sunshine on my dining-room table. "O dining-room table, dear old friend, home of my mournful mashed potatoes." Four hundred poems, enough to fill a bread box, by ninety-three poets who hoped to win one of four modest cash prizes-modest to you, but no prize is modest to a poet. Poets are starved for prizes--awards, with cash stipends, named after ladies with three names. And what poet truly feels, deep down in his or her heart, that he or she is unworthy of much, much more recognition, right away? Not me. I won the Anna von Helmholz Phelan Prize for poetry in 1962 and am starved for another, even though I am no longer a poet. When I took the rubber bands off the bundles of poems, I could hear a faint sucking, an inhalation of poem breath, poems whispering, Please, sir. Please.
by Garrison Keillor
(The Atlantic, Feb.96)
BEGINNING:
THERE are four hundred poems," the president of the poetry society said over the phone, "but judging won't take you that long, because most of them are pretty bad." The next day the poems arrived in an apple carton, three bundles bound with rubber bands, and I spread them out in the squares of sunshine on my dining-room table. "O dining-room table, dear old friend, home of my mournful mashed potatoes." Four hundred poems, enough to fill a bread box, by ninety-three poets who hoped to win one of four modest cash prizes-modest to you, but no prize is modest to a poet. Poets are starved for prizes--awards, with cash stipends, named after ladies with three names. And what poet truly feels, deep down in his or her heart, that he or she is unworthy of much, much more recognition, right away? Not me. I won the Anna von Helmholz Phelan Prize for poetry in 1962 and am starved for another, even though I am no longer a poet. When I took the rubber bands off the bundles of poems, I could hear a faint sucking, an inhalation of poem breath, poems whispering, Please, sir. Please.
* * * * * * * * *
END:
Okay, I said to her, that's fine,
As I reached for the pistol you gave me, Daddy.
She thanked me for my work, and I said that it was my
pleasure,
As I put the pistol to the back of her head
And blew her brains out,
Which didn't amount to all that much, frankly,
And ran her through a wood chipper.
She made a little bit less than a full load.
I mixed her with the dirt
At the end of the flower bed,
And this fall I'll plant bulbs in her
And next spring she'll look better than she ever did as a
president,
And men in tuxedos will say how terrific the irises look,
But do you know what I went through
For beauty,
America,
And you on the terrace drinking your gin and tonics,
How can you possibly understand any of this, you
dummies?
Okay, I said to her, that's fine,
As I reached for the pistol you gave me, Daddy.
She thanked me for my work, and I said that it was my
pleasure,
As I put the pistol to the back of her head
And blew her brains out,
Which didn't amount to all that much, frankly,
And ran her through a wood chipper.
She made a little bit less than a full load.
I mixed her with the dirt
At the end of the flower bed,
And this fall I'll plant bulbs in her
And next spring she'll look better than she ever did as a
president,
And men in tuxedos will say how terrific the irises look,
But do you know what I went through
For beauty,
America,
And you on the terrace drinking your gin and tonics,
How can you possibly understand any of this, you
dummies?
ENTIRE STORY:
1.24.2009
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