Buttering a scone? FOOTBALL ON YOUR PHONE.

USA Today just made you the happiest sports fan ...ever.  For football on your phone, and for the Manning brothers' epic grand slam video.

Although, every stylist ever is probably highly offended by the Justin Timberlake curls (circa 1998) and Adam Sandler's Little Nicky hair slick.

I'm not.

My dad is a huge Giants fan.  Please refer to this picture:

This isn't really my father.

Yes.  That huge.  So I sent him the video and he got all excited and had to make it viral with his buddies.  I swear I heard him giggle on the phone.  I start shooting him quotes:

Me:  Buttering a scone?  FOOTBALL ON YOUR PHONE
Dad: What does that mean
Me:  Watch the video!
Dad:  I will but the audio was not on

...we'll have to work on the generation gap.

#JUNIORYEAR

JUNIOR. YEAR. ANTHEM.

Don't fight the feeling.

Single is...eating fro yo for dinner every night.

You know you're single when:

• Fro yo is a dinner staple.  Topped with enough brownies and maraschino cherries to qualify as a well-rounded meal that Michelle Obama's food pyramid would hail.
• Your evening routine consists of the Fro Yo dinner and an episode Netflix...a series that has at least 5 seasons to keep you through 1-2 weeks.
• Nobody argues with your Netflix series choice
• You understand this feed completely: thanks buzzfeed
• Your bank account is actually in the green
• Now your friend's friends are trying to set you up with someone great they know
• You buy seven bagels on a Sunday because your household has: four ladies, three gents
• You say "eff that" and still eat two bagels.  SUCKAS.

I'm definitely not a Nascar fan. But when I am, I melt for David Stremme.

Ow owww!

Ugh, my hometown heart is bursting.

Saw that pic during my morning Facebook peruse.  Mr. Stremme was taking the Genessee Brewery Tour - holla atcha!  Not only do I love beer, but I desperately adore the Genessee Brewery.  It's a pride/Upstate roots thing.

Digging the dude.  Digging the car.  Hometown rep-re-SENT!

Marc Jacobs hates Camel Toe so hard; so he's made a special shield for us ladies.

Bring back your Bump-it and slap on the SmoothGroove.  Party is ON.  I have an aversion to spandex - between bulges, camel toe, and cheddar...it can get  Like.  You see a lot of goodness at the gym, in the grocery store...it's customary to throw up a leg in your bathroom and check out your fancy to make sure it's NOT. VISIBLE.

Marc Jacobs, I have a lot of questions for you, sir.  This is everything that I've been waiting for this past decade and will no doubt save many-a-retina.  But somehow, knowing that this gem is on the market does not make it available to those in need.

Here's the scoop:

"SmoothGroove resembles a small rubber shoe horn and attaches itself to your underwear with the help of tiny Velcro dots...

It's made from a medical grade polymer which moulds itself to the contours of the body; it contains an antibacterial agent, so it is safe"  [telegraph.co.uk]

Have you heard the song by Fannypack - "Camel Toe".  It's the shit.

We started playing that at The Gym a few years back.  Excellent iTunes find; truth in every rhyme.  So from Vajazzle to Camel Toe, 5am has had it covered.

This is Marc Jacobs.

Adulting: How to become a grown up in 468 easy(-ish) steps

I was doing the usual morning web-peruse with Starbucks in hand.  Stumbled upon this is a great find.

Why?  Because, yesterday it dawned on me that I am not really taking 26 well...like, not at all.  That quarter-life crisis that we joked about at 25?  Well it's happening now and it's very real and I have not been awesome to be around.

I could complain and compare til the cats/cows come home.  But it's an unattractive, gross stage and time to be over it.

So, without further ado...

This is So Completely Accurate:  http://adultingblog.com/

Jamming right now. So hard.

Time to sit back and groooooove baby.

Notes to the week

Dear Justice,

Your storefront is giving people seizures.  I'm over your lifestyle.  Every nightmare that I ever had in middle school is rooted in your pop-tastic threads and neons.  Never you mind.

Dear Kickball Teammate,

Last night you invited everyone to come out to the 'Ladies' Night' at your new spa...the spa that you and your husband just bought.  Right. Further news?  I made rent this month.  MAZEL.

Dear Twenty-somethings,

Your Quarter Life crisis, perfected.  Please click here and know that you are eerily understood [courtesy of Buzzfeed].  Now shut up and go do something.

Dear Gay Marriage shit going on in the Supreme Court,

There are far too many people on my Twitter feed quoting decisions, and having opinions, and using atrocious grammar. 

So...what. Congrats, gays, on now getting Social Security benefits that won't even be around by then?

I propose a marriage gauntlet for happily engaged couples.  It'll be like Survivor and The Amazing Race - you can't figure out how to ride a camel across the Amazon with your future spouse, then you don't deserve to share a last name.  Case closed.

 Dear Everyone,

Have I told you about Henry Cavill?  Of course I have.  I'm just reminding you....hayhayhayyy.

 

...fantastic.

 

But, are they really unintentional? Tuesday ...for the win.

HAHAHAHAHAHA. Absolutely incredible.

Unintentionally Sexual Sports Pics

I'm just wondering who's been stalking the Google for these.

My personal favorite...

Skeet, skeet - git it, git it.

Bitches love Teddy Grahams.

OM NOM NOM.  The granimal-animal.  If you haven't indulged lately, then definitely hit these up.

My co-worker Joe has been on the TG kick this morning.  And I don't hate it.  Joe says: Give that bitch a Teddy Graham.  Bitches love Teddy Grahams.

He's right.  Today, Joe wins.

Get ready for the most awkward 'happy-birthday-to-myself' post ever.

I can't even deal.

Tranlsation:  "I sleep in my mom's nightgown and I just jizzed in my pants. Who's coming over to play ring toss tonight???"

Letters to Wednesday.

[iwastesomuchtime.com]

Today's letters are actually someecards. May you laugh so hard that you cry...or shart:

I noticed.

Perfection.

Aren't we all?

HAHA. Sometimes.

Hot tub cinemas...and other things that 'seemed like a good idea at the time'

This hot tub cinema thing. It vexes me.

We went to see Super-Man: Man of Steel on Sunday as a family.  Family...read: my parents, brother, sister, grandmother, grandmother's ailing friend.  Okay.  So we went to the renovated theater that's jacked up with freaking recliner seats.  Even the carpet still smells new!  It's fantastic.  And I got to put my feet up without cramping (har. har.)

Now imagine 7 grown adults of that ...diversity...piled into a hot tub. Together.

Right? Totally West Virginia. Makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

And you've seen the new Super-Man actor guy?  Maiiii gawwwwd.

It was hard enough trying not to dry hump the armrest.  Case in point.  Hot tub cinema = never.

Hairy-leg anti-pervert stockings for women? Also = NEVER. Nope. Misery. I'll take the pervert.

This is completely relative, thank you BuzzFeed.

These are totally phallic, thank you again, BuzzFeed.

Dear Monday, please make me a deaf mute

[MissUSA.com - profile]

Do you remember when Britney Spears said she got to "go to a lot of overseas places like Canada"?  Right. Well, ladies and gentlemen.  Last night Miss Utah upped the ante and proposed that we 'create education better', for the win:

“I think, especially the men are … um … seen as the leaders of this, and so we need to see how to … create education better. ...Thank you.”

Read more / view the desecration on youtube

Seems like both Mr. President and Mrs. First Lady have their hands full with this one.

Oh.  And wtf.  I'm not sure who Billy Horschel is, but I really want him to remove his pants. Haha. Aces.

To wear, or not to wear?  I had the same internal struggle with my Ho-Ho Halloween costume.  And I'm sure that everyone was hoping that I'd remove it, too.  It's called 'playing for keeps.'

Bets on which announcer will fumble "tentacles" for "testicles".  That shit will be viral.

...well-played, Ralph Lauren.

Getting the 'i'm late' text...

I like Father's Day.  Mostly because I love my father.

But also because I get to mess with my exes.

I think this should do:  "Hey big daddy...I know it's been a while since we've talked but figured you deserved to know...Happy Father's Day!"

**anonymous text messages can also be sent from Verizon.com...consider your afternoon booked with entertainment**

"That's why her weave so big" - Thursday's in your face "Mean Girls" mock out. OMG.

I can't get enough of this.

Everything that you love about Mean Girls, you can love so hard - hoodrat style.

[props to BuzzFeed]

Top Tuesday off with a new read

Greatist.com...For foodies, fitness junkies, and inspirational mongers...seemed kinda cool.

So yeah.  Greatist.com - check it out.

My favorite part is the drop down menu that reads "Health" has a tab for "Alcohol".  Right??  Who's driving this thing?

Kotex is the new Hallmark ...xo

[via iwastesomuchtime.com]

Hahahaha.  I love games. Let's ad lib the fine print:

Live Fearlessly? Because today - you're not pregnant!  Go drink, smoke, and ride roller coasters!

Walk like a champion?  Why.

Be unstoppable?  *what did the one tampon say to the other*

Tampon Slogan Writer loves their job right now.  So hard.  You know that it's some marketing intern, crying in the corner of their cube - how is that newly-framed MBA doing?  Somehow, Corporate seems to have missed the mark on perceived value and differentiation.

There can't be anything creepier than reading words of encouragement as your innards tear.  If I'm a hot mess, that's the last thing I want to read.  Why can't Kotex come with a fkn paint ball gun?

I'm writing in a few winners:

Take it deep.

Rub one out.

No strings attached. (just kidding!!)

Next thing should be Bro Code Bar Code on the box for when they pick up our necessities: "Did you remember the ice cream and rom-coms?" and "We know she's beautiful, but don't tell her that today...she knows you're lying."

Thanks for the referral?

When you're twenty-something, living in an apartment (or your parent's house...), your network thinks it's doing you a huge favor when they refer you to someone for dog-sitting.

No no no...animals are not like children.  Pets don't wear diapers and don't like to watch cartoons.  I love kids, and I don't like to treat animals like kids.

My roommate has two cats that I tolerate.  She loves them, they make her happy.  But they also prance around their Feces Bin and then climb up onto the countertop where we eat.  They shed - relentlessly.  Ugh.

So I'll house/dog-sit sometimes, and it's not terrible.  One yellow lab, Jazz, is pretty low key and the house is in perfect location for my daily roadtripping of gym-work-Wegmans.  Jazz eats twice a day, gets walked, and sleeps.  Jazz does not eat people food, get dressed up, or have human problems that require prescription drugs (like depression or migraines.).  Those would be pet peeves.

But the other day I got this call.  The woman was so excited about asking me to watch her two Bichons that are 'so sweet' and 'so easy' and oh btw 'so-and-so referred me to you' .  When I gave her my rates, there were dollar signs and drooling at the other end of the line.  Of course they sound reasonable.  I'm easy.  Oh, and because your one critter has diabetes and requires insulin shots.  Yes.  Now your surprise makes sense.

Sometimes your roommate's new gentleman caller stops over...with his 3-year-old son.

Thursdays are my long days.  It's a 16hr round-trip from the moment I leave my apartment to when I roll back up the driveway and start hooking for the night - girl's gotta pay rent somehow!

This Thursday was pretty standard - it was rainy and more people reminded me of that on Facebook than I could handle.  But if it's not posted then I guess it doesn't happen, right?

I digress.

My roommate has been hanging with her new gentleman caller since Tuesday, so Thursday was the third consecutive 'hang out'.  I pulled into the driveway around 8:38pm and his car was already there...

No matter.  However. I was strangely surprised to hear childish shreaks and mini velcro sneakers at the top of the stairs.  Yes - the young man had a young man of his own.  HAHA, wtf.  That's an actual Shocker.

#boom

This infograph just seals the deal. Hard.

This took a few minutes to sink in (and by 'few minutes' I definitely mean 12 minutes of sit and stare).  The years between 18 and 26 seem critical; so then what?  Fast forward to corpse?  Wtf.

The analysis...

18 - getting busy
21 - getting dizzy
26 - hopefully you've sucked enough d*cks (and have chosen the perfect fit).

Notice the legend that's below the timeline.  It allows some slack of (+/- 10 years), but this leeway is a little perplexing.  Puts the range at a maximum: 36-year-old...minimum: 8-year-old....  Which means either a lot of Lisa Frank stickers and LipSmackers or a high class hooker in OPI, dripping in Tiffany's.  Now, we've all toed the line but 8 years old may be just shy of some severe lawsuits.

It's the difference of Lindsay Lohan, now & then:

But aren't we all just a candle in the wind?  Get it while ya got it.  Hit it, EJ.

Elite Daily just summed up your life

ELITE DAILY.  This read is excellent - the entire blog is very real.  I'm not partial to every stance, but maybe that's why I like it.

Ooooohhhh and there you have it.  Intellect and rant are NOT the same.  It's tough to find good reads these days.

Read here:  ELITE DAILY

It just blew your mind.

Letters to Society xoxo

Dear Michael Douglas,

I'm just gonna throw it out there: were you really licking that much p*$&y?  Let's be honest...I've seen "Hall Pass" and I'm calling your bluff...(youtube)

Dear Parochial Schools,

In the midst of this Church-and-State chaos, the gay rights battlefield, and Tom Cruise, you've managed to stay true to our school-uniformed youth. I applaud you.  But never you mind on the sex education.  Quick fact check (aka Google.) ...nowhere does the Bible state that 'spanking the monkey' is a mortal sin.  Wouldn't Tim Tebow be spewing splooge from his ears by now if that were the case?

Dear Rebel Wilson,

Bitch, you cray!  Right on. (youtube)

**Ever had that moment of sinking fear when you know you've left your phone unlocked and unsecured? As it stands, I may have out-Googled myself. My phone will need to be destroyed n the event of unexpected fatalities.  PIC, you know what to do.

Office Moments in someone else's words...because I'm not there anymore.

I'll let somebody else do the talking:

20 Office Moments That Will Make You Want To Quit (and go travel)
Practices of Productive People
Why NOT to Go to Grad School

Article 1 is funny.  Because it's pictures, not words.

#2 is ...just as you'd assume from its title...BORING.

and the third just makes me laugh because your Masters means nothing.  kthanks.

The day I decided to bankrupt myself.

My life revolves around the three Cs:  Coffee.  Cereals.  and...Cuddling.  For Lent one year I tried to tame the coffee thing.  Ask my roommates how that went.

Every morning I drive from The Gym to The Shop, making a pit stop for Starbucks.  I do this because on lunch I can go get my refill for 54 cents.  Right?  54 freakin' cents.  That's excellent.

Finally, the barista (also known as an 'English Major') suckered me into a Starbucks card - just a regular gift card that you can register online and reload.  Let me restate that: register online and RE. LOAD.

What the EFF.  Not only am I now obsessed with obtaining GOLD level rewards (because I really, really want the special gold card that they send...just to you!) - but now I'm fiscally committed/actively bankrupting myself with Automatic Payment.  The idea of suited men, laughing with their cigars and espressos (free, probably), sitting around a board room will now haunt me with every swipe - the 54 cent refills is ironic now that they have my credit card information.

Well played, Corporate. Well played...

Update on the 'Hitler Kettle' - it freaking sold out

My sister dated this kid in high school.  Justin.  He was the bad boy - her first love.  My parents told her she couldn't date him.

So...she dated him.  And snuck out of the house to see him.  And got in all sorts of trouble.  And then when she went 2hrs away for her freshman year of college, his jealousy got the better of him - so he showed up in front of her dorm one night and lit a box of her stuff on fire.

But that's besides the point.  We're misogynists.  Something's bad, therefore we want it more.

How do you get a tea kettle to sell out?  Hope it resembles a dictator and plaster that shit on a billboard.

ROC's Food Truck Rodeo: channel your inner fat kid

[via City of Rochester]

I'm not even channeling my 'inner' fat kid...it's my current, outer fat kid that is teeming and salivating with excitement.

Right????

Here's what's up:

"Just about everything and anything that is served from the back of a truck will be featured from food vendors including Le Petit Poutine, The Sammich Guy, Cheesed & Confused, Potatoes to Go...and many more!  Beer will be provided by Rohrbach Brewing Company, as well!"

That's excellent. The old guys and their garage bands are cool too.  But I'm about to make it rumble - as in, tummy rumble.  I imagine: skipping from truck to truck, double-fisting some gourmet goodness.  This must be like NYS Fair food on crack. *heel click*

How about The Sammich Guy for starts (because a guy who calls it a 'sammich' must know what he's doing) - and I'm not sure wtf poutine is but gimme some.

Does this kettle look like Hitler?

[thanks to Huffington Post]

Just gonna throw it out there: If your prescription is this far off, maybe you shouldn't be driving.

Let's assess.  Awkward sidebangs (check), minimalist mustache (check), holding up a canary (check). Yup. That's definitely der Fuhrer.  Some CMO's ass is on the line. Hard.

Simple ocular error.When my mom took me for my two-year-old physical, they did a few flashcard/recognition exercises. I left with a lollipop, and she left in tears because I proudly declared that the picture of the rotary telephone was, in fact, a cow. 

For your reference, I've employed Google Image results below.  Tell me that my two-year-old self wasn't thinking outside of the box. Picasso's first painting didn't sell until after he died.  True scoop.

This excellent meme sums up your twenties. Hard.

I think my favorite is Row 2, #4...RETIRES.

Come on.  This is excellent.

Let this be a lesson to all undergrads

Yes. You can get credits, and some booty too!

Haha, win.  I have two years of blog posts from Cubicle Land that [undoubtedly] confirm the painful, awesome truth to this ecard.

We've all met a few 'too good for that nonsense' folk...My roommate is one who simply cannot believe all the office incest at her new job.  Well. That was a few months ago.  She's not new anymore and she's not above the double-dipping either.

Zing.

Letters to Tim Tebow

Dear Tim,

I would not mind seeing your sweaty, salacious body in knee-high boots (with the little bow-ties) and a Speedo.  If you join the WWE, then I'll be WWE ...as in "weak with envy"...as in envy of that thin stretchy cloth clinging to you.

Dear Tim,

I want the Gospel.  Give it to me.

Dear Tim,

What are you thinking about?

Dear Tim,

Why haven't you responded to my messages?  Call me soon.  Or like, text me or something okay?

Keep it between us

I had been on a match.com date a few months ago with a guy.  Ray.  We found a few commonalities - one of them: that he had dated a good friend of mine.  I had an "omg you're THAT Ray" moment, which was kind of awkward for me.  But don't worry he totally recovered by giving me a chocolate rose and poker chips...

I digress.

So this weekend, there was a new guy that I'd started messaging.  He winked, I winked, he messaged...I messaged back.  Using some sleuth stalker skills (aka Facebook and Linkedin), I found out that my sister is his co-worker.  Again.  Kind of awkward.

Enter: The Mind Game.  I never know...Do you solicit these things up front?  Or do you wait to see if the dating progresses and casually mention that you've known all along...but then, what if it goes south?  And not south like...'down unda'...more like, 'we weren't meant for each other but instead of telling me, you acted like a douche' south.  Tricky stuff, right?

Anyways.  I told my sister.Now I'm blogging it.  Oh well.

Today I messaged him:

Nic-ho: Hey sorry I didn't text sooner - birthday week so the days got away from me!  Do you work with a Lindsay?

Guy: Haha yeah I know she's your sis I learned that from the photos lol no one knows I even use match...it's shameful so keep it between us ;)

Oh. Shameful. Got it.

If match.com is among your more shameful pastimes then I have a few edgy Born-Agains for you to meet.

"Notes to my Future Husband"

Haha, well alright then.  New blog.  I approve: read here

It feels like just yesterday I was still on my parent's insurance

...because I was.

Assessing the past year is not really necessary. And I won't say that "this year's gonna be a big one" because I'll end up getting mauled by a bear on 490 or something. But I can say this: From morph suits to fro yo surprises...it was a great birthday, thanks to wonderful friends and family.

I've been well advised that 26 is NOT 25. And things that I could get away with at 25 are neither cute nor funny at 26.  It's like pulling up MSN.com and reading another headline about another teacher's sex pics or video about cats.  It's old and kind of gross.

This is probably a good time to tell you: I'm letting myself go.

That's right. Hanging up the ho-heels. Buttoning it up, bitches.

But let my half-assed proclamation of self-righteousness include a disclaimer/mantra - that one must be a 'lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets' (much love, Ludacris).

In my day, the "condom challenge" was done a little differently.

What up sunlight.  I'm sitting at my computer desk, checking out this 60 degree day (you go, Mother Nature), continuing to drip my 80th cup of Tim Horton's into my veins.

Checking through Facebook, came across this:  The Condom Challenge.

WTF.  There's got to be some kind of warning label.

Also:

Sucking a rubber through your nose only to be coughed out your mouth 

seems like there isn't enough tang being had.

Condoms were 3 for $6.00 last time I checked...which is fine if you're looking to prevent an 18-year investment. But to suck up your nose?  Jiminey Christmas.  Get an effing gummy worm or something.

The challenge used to be how quickly you could get through the box.  If this challenge is a race to the bottom of humanity...good job kids, you're doing it.

In which "Snatch" was the date night movie of choice

Date #4 happened on Saturday.  Success?  Failure?  You can be the judge:

I had taken my time throughout the day to properly bathe, nap, assemble an outfit, shave past my knee...

Around 6pm, Ash and I left for one of those jewelry parties where you get guilted into buying things.  If you have friends, then you've been to these and/or exhausted your best excuses to avoid them at all costs.

I was luckily out the door by 7:16pm to be back downtown in time to get to New Guy's apartment.  Until I realized that I still didn't have New Guy's address.  Hmm.  So I called him.  And woke him up.  Date night kickoff was thusly postponed half an hour.

So I made it over and we walked around the block to a cafe for Italian type dinner and more interview type conversation.  At this point there is still a lot of testing the waters and trying to pick up on each other's nuances without seeming psychotic/clingy.  Sometimes this is fun, but I had a headache and was desperately trying to stay engaged in conversation while sneaking glances at the NCAA Final Four game over by the bar.

I'm awful.  Feel free to stage an intervention. 

We walked back to his place and settled on the couch for Netflix.  After both of us were being too nice to say what we actually wanted to watch (you know, that thing you do when you start dating), we picked "Snatch".

New rule of thumb: movie names that are slang for 'coochie' should be avoided on date #4

Second new rule of thumb: movies stacked with a lot of gorgeous foreign bad boys should also be avoided on date #4

We're watching.  Then the fire alarm went off.  We went outside with the rest of the tenants.

Movie watching resumed - the fire alarm went off again - we ignored it.  New Guy had his arm around me.  We watched the movie to its entirity.  All of which was lost on me.  There was a lot of British stuff and guns.  We chatted.  I made moves.

Hey.  I may not party anymore, but I still get down.

So:  Success?  Failure?  Nope.  BOMB.  [Credit Ray J]

This one goes out to all the ex-lovers in your life.

Jul called me yesterday with an awesome tip on Ray J's new and exquisitely controversial single, "I Hit It First."

And by controversial I mean that everyone knows it's about Kim Kardashian.  Forget about these lyrics dripping with disses on the big booty diva.  My favorite part is when Ray J says he gives all his girls 'really bomb sex.'  We all love a good tail spin, but just let those words sink in.

Really.  Bomb.  Sex.

Haha.  It's so painfully eloquent.  And a step up from my usual..."it was...nice."  Yikes.

#lifeasiblowit

Life lessons on date-ability.

We have this saying at 5am Group.  Actually.  It's not really a saying, it's kind of a whole CD of songs about The Shocker.  Something about 'two in the poon...'?

Luckily it's old news.  The new news is the New Guy that I've been dating.  And by 'dating' I mean that we've spent time together on three occasions.  Date #4 is tomorrow. This is exciting for everyone because - well, because it's not them.

I've been hitting the ho-train hard.  Jul signed me up for Match.com, and after some convincing and cat-fishing and several date-wrecks, New Guy is decent.  He has not given me poker chips to 'leverage on another date' (yes. that happened.) - and he does not overuse emoticons :) ;) and/or exclamation!!!!!! marks via text message.  Along with eye-contact and holding the door, I've decided that these are also non-negotiable.

I was talking this all over with Co-worker Joe. Co-worker Joe says that if a guy likes guns and can change a tire, then he's a keeper.  Co-worker Joe also says that you know a girl is a keeper if she deep throats.  I guess it's all relative.

The Laundry Room: I can only afford one horse

I was watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills at my parent's the other night.  I'm not ashamed.

It was the season recap.  Therefore: one decent looking dude surrounded by plastic molds of human beings. It's excellent.  Have you seen these ladies?  I haven't lived with cable for a year (true scoop), so I'm pretty much a reality tv born-again.  I'm on overdrive.

So one chick is a recovering addict with eyes going in different directions, and another was almost to pieces because nobody "knows how hard it is to only be able to afford ONE horse for your daughter, most girls have four!"

...

Why does it matter if your daughter has but one horse?  Once she figures out how to mount and ride the real beast, that pony is going to spend a lot of lonely nights in the barn.  Your high school sport and girls' nights and ice cream are all great til you discover The D.  Then it's stop, drop, and ice your knees.

Consider that mystery de-funked.  NEXT.

So what you're saying is, there's snow.

Facebook has informed me that my friends living just-barely-north-of-the-Mason-Dixon-Line have received a bit of snowfall.

This means that all of my friends and acquaintances in Virginia are unable to go to the gym and check in and tell us how many calories they've burned on the elliptical for 35 min and then go to Starbucks for their Chai Tea Lattes with skim?

Shit.  I really hope that they keep posting pictures of their back yards, or noting their mid-week coffee-in-bed routine.

Hopefully they survive the snow dome.

But seriously I'm looking to invest in a dune buggy can everyone post on my status their recommendations? Go!

...nobody's even mentioned how many loads of laundry they did today.  Just saying.  Snow means snuggling.  And spooning.

Found: Warm Body (in the hotel's water heater.)

I was at the gym this morning.

Thursday routine is spin [insert laundry room pun here], breakfast, recumbent bike & chit chat with Jul and Mr. G.

Jul had the morning buzz from her radio bits earlier on.  Today's topic: the body found in the hot water heater of an L.A. hotel (full story)

Had to Google That Shit (GTS), and wtf Amercia...wtf.

That's insane.  And it's even more insane that the flooding and missing hotel guest three weeks prior weren't like, a red flag or anything.

They found the body because there'd been 'low water pressure' reported.  Guest Annette Sukuzi was 'disgusted, simply disgusted' because the body was brewing in the hotel's water supply...also her drinking water.  Thank you, Annette Suzuki.

Bet if we told them it was zero calories and helped fat loss, there'd be a new Slim Fast shake in the works as of yesterday.

*zing*

So my date wore a kilt

"Holy balls. Is he commando??" - PIC

"Keep your hands to yourself young lady! A man in a kilt can always make you crazy!" - Mrs. H

Yes.  My roommates and I get invited to the oldest, most prestigious bachelor's club event in the continental US.

And then a young man shows up to our apartment in a kilt.

To his credit he was a great date.  Considering the furry pouch and rabbits' feet draped around his waist and crotch.  And condsidering my low-grade fever and nausea. The night was all rabbits' feet and no tail.

Hey you wanna make out?

Dating is like, so much fun. Not.

Dating is weird. It's a lot of Naked Twister and then "Left Hand Blue Balls, you idiot" or "How did I end up on my back again?".

Online dating gives you carte blanche to actively dismiss, judge, and cream over randoms. It's the most excellent experiment in social graces and human nature. Do you know that most people are not normal?

One of my friends had been on a date - and within the first five minutes, her online suitor had asked if 'those things are real, because I've been burned in the past.'

Haha! What even is that??

Bar time dating is equally awkward. Thanks to SMS texting. So last night I'm at TPs. It's a local sports bar. The crowd is older dudes and sometimes their old ladies, and then the twenty-somethings swoop in on occasion.

Last night's birthday fest turned into a middle school dance. Guys were on one end of the bar, chicks were on the other.

I get a text from Birthday Boy:

Wanna go outside and make out?

Fastforward a half hour - getting lifted onto the outdoor bar. So far so good. Then the 23-year-old tells you he feels like the 'young buck that's being taken advantage of'...and then him screaming...'OMG I HAVE A BONER - just kidding.'

Cringe. Even I have standards.

But hey it's better to be shut down by some ho than getting gunned down by your husband on Valentine's Day (nice job, Pistorious). Yikes, glad we got the first tasteless joke out of the way.

Enter the spin cycle

Are you ready? LIKE ARE YOU REALLY READY FOR THIS???

On that note. It's a Saturday night. Harry Potter is on. I just picked the cookie dough out of a heaping bowl of ice cream (yep.). But that's okay because I got a little play last night.

I also ran into LaundryRoomGuy ("LRG") and his dad last night. Great, right? This blog is fantastically dedicated to that incident. His dad always gives me the creepiest head nod and 'I-know-you-blew-my-son' grin. Yeah. I should mention that my grandma walked in on that.

I'm a little rusty...dusty...but it's time to wipe away the cobwebs, throw open the shades and throw your feet up in the air [ladies].  Drop your drawers. Enter the spin cycle.