Minding My Ps and Qs

I’m convinced I’m the MOST CONSIDERATE PERSON IN AMERICA, folks. This title is based solely on the fact that I always hand cashiers my payment in the following order:
FIRST
SECOND It allows the cashier to have a firm grasp on the coins as opposed to forcing them to teeter precariously on the paper cash money. Who cares? Shut up. You’re a who cares. How about instead of being so freaking apathetic you ask some specific follow-up questions. Please send follow-up questions to PO BOX 5882300 Empire, NY. I’ll wait................................................ Oh here's one:


Great question and great penmanship! Giving payment in change then bill order is important because one time that didn't happen and tragedy struck its strikey strikers. See below for details. Disclaimer: These aren't drawings of the actual event. These are drawings of the reenactment of said event.

That's right. A coin slid off of the dollar and landed right in a woman's cleavage. AND THEN THIS HAPPENED: That's right. She got a taste of money being thrown at her and decided to give up her job going back in time and preventing major catastrophes to become a stripper at the Cracker Barrel. End of story. So anyway. As I was saying, come see me the MOST CONSIDERATE PERSON IN AMERICA at the Cracker Barrel this Sunday at 9am. I'll be in near that wall that has decorative chamber pots stapled to it.

Worker B

When I’m shopping at a place of retail I often get mistaken for a store employee. I find this insulting because at the time of my mistaken identity I’m usually wearing something that is clearly in violation of a retail employee's dress requirements. Thanks for the vote of confidence in my work ethic and ability to comply with Kmart’s uniform guidelines. Here's a recent example:

Here are some other examples where my ego was wounded due to mistaken identity.

Example 1: Date of occurrence: December 7th, 1941

Close up on my face:

Example 2: Date of occurrence: December 25th, 1 A.D.

Close up on my face:

Sdicks and Stones

Why is angina a word? For those of you who aren't as disease savvy/ridden as me, angina is a condition impacting the throat. Want to pronounce it correctly? an-jahy-nuh. That's right, it rhymes with VAGINA. To which I say WHAT THE FAGINA?

I think its total bullshit that a word created after vagina was rhymes with vagina, but no modern word rhymes with penis. Very convenient. That's right, that was sarcasm. That's double right, I'm a feminist now. And this blog was made for talkin' and that's just what it'll do. This blog was made for talkin' and its gunna talk all about angina.

Maybe you don't care. Fine. Be a monster. But get this in your think blob immediately, sirs. How would it feel to be a woman in the following scenario? You're standing amongst a group of esteemed male doctors (with no hands because I can't draw them) and the tallest one says:

Guaranteed they all think:

And you as a woman would say: And Mr. Boland who is in the next room would say:

And male word makers everywhere would say:

CiviBalls2 Idea

I think its great when someone is super defensive of NASA when they are too dumb to even be an astronaut's casual acquaintance. Its probably one of my favorite things. The best part is when you ask this type of person to share their impetus for NASA loving they say something hilarious like "I think we should be looking for alternate life forms."Look man, I don't have a lot of information about aliens but from what I can gather they want us dead and they have lasers. If you haven't been able to notice that then come sit next to me so I can use your body as a shield when one attacks us while futon shopping. Its bound to happen, folks.

Also, may I remind you of a little book called "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus." Given that fact consider whether you'd really want to start a cross-planet war. I mean, we have no idea what planet these aliens might be from.


Guys, I hate NASA. Truth be told, its not about my belief that you give an alien an inch they'll eat your face. I truly hate NASA for two very specific reasons:

1. NASA and I are NOT held to the same standards

I mean if I spent 19 million dollars annually almost exploding my vehicles and looking for water on barren and useless space orbs, I’d be institutionalized. But NASA does the same shit and their geniuses.

2. Their most ubiquitous invention is a useless bed

Stop hanging your hat on developing a foam technology that comprises a bed no one enjoys. Call me when you invent Civiballs 3. Civiballs 2 is too easy. Hey, that's a good catch phrase. Civiballs 2: Its not 2 easy. Sure you're lying but what am I going to do about it?

Ritadiculous

If someone gets my name wrong I don’t correct them. I’ve never seen it done gracefully and I refuse to attempt to correct someone since doing so always results in hurt feelings.

Case in point, I go to a Pilates class a few mornings a week. Every person there is 30 to 40 years older than me. They are all friends because they work at a high school together. They think my name is Rita. I don’t know why. I’ve never told them my name because they never asked. The first day they called me Rita it took me forever to realize they were actually talking to me. In fact, I did one of those "look behind me to see who they are talking to" moves. They all thought I was comic gold. They said, “Oh, Rita, don’t try to avoid the question.”

These past few weeks have taught me that Rita is an amazing person. She’s exponentially more tolerant of adult conversations than Rachel. For instance, Rita always laughs when her Pilates teacher make the joke, “My doctor said I can’t do push-ups.” This is a joke because the instructor had knee replacement surgery not too long ago. Push-ups are one of the few exercises the instructor can actually do. Rita appreciates the illogical discrepancy Lisa presents. Please note, the instructor makes this joke every class. Class occurs 5 days a week. We as a class laugh every time with vigor. This joke NEVER loses its bite.

Today Rita nodded understandingly when someone said this in class:

“The dog had a 7 pound cyst. 7lbs! That’s like 10 lbs!!”

Rita agreed. 7 does equal 10.

Today was the most challenging class Rita faced because today the instructor called Rita by the wrong name accidentally. Today, she called Rita … RACHEL. I kid you not! I didn’t know what to do. I spent a good 4 seconds frozen in confusion. My stasis was broken when Bill, the retired accountant, active farter, said "geez Lisa her name is Rita, not Rachel." Lisa apologized to Rita. Rita said, "Oh don't worry about it. I somehow knew you were talking to me."

Sky Rage (Still on Horse Drawing Hiatus)

My two most notable characteristics are as follows:

1. I want to do what I want whenever I feel like it
2. I can't handle when someone is physically in my way when I'm trying to walk (kinda the same as the first but whatever)

Naturally airplane travel is a freaking nightmare for me because it's all about the opposite of those things. I flew to Jackson Hole yesterday and wrote the following 3 entries to cope with my sky rage.

1. My Thoughts Regarding Delta:
Flying on delta is like the sky Oregon Trail. It’s rugged, everyone is dying from typhoid fever, and there are no bison because they’ve been over hunted. Also, the peanuts seem to be over-salted and the flight attendant (Stacy) doesn’t give a shit even if you tell her 12 times. Fucking exploratory travel missions. I can see why so many settlers died.

2. Moments in Time While Sitting In Front of an Idiot Kid:
Time=8:21: Conditions are poor. This kid behind me is talking about t-rexes non-stop. He keeps saying t-rex. He never uses a pronoun. Every sentence ends in t-rex and he lilts that word every time. Every single one of his completely uniformed and myopic t-rex statements is falsely presented as a question.

Time=8:27: Now the kid is telling his mom the Shrek 2 storyline. She is a kind listener. My response would have been. Please come back when hearing your idiotic and repeated recollection of the most forgettable details of a movie I loathe doesn’t make me what to kick my face off.

Time=8:34: He is talking about t-rex again. Then he said “I have a story!” and told a knock-knock joke that made no sense.

Time= 8:40: He yelled I-phone like 8 times at maximum volume.

3. Dear Pilot, Please Crash This Plane:
If you want a magnified view of the low-lights of the human experience consider airplane travel. I hate it. Flying actually makes me indifferent to the possibility of crashing. If I’m ever on a jury for a murder trial, I’ll be like “Hey, Judge Helen.” She’d be like “Hey, Rachel. What’s up?” I’d say, “When are we going to get some more pretzels? I’m starving my face off.” She’d flash a tolerant smile and ask if I had a question pertinent to the matter at hand specifically the Fred Bigsby’s murder trial. I’d say “Oh yeah, did he fly right before the murders?” Judge Helen would ask an aide to look through the evidence locker for a ticket stub while the rest of us sat quietly. Esther Cummings, the elderly juror next to me, would be twiddling her thumbs and smiling faintly as she stared off into the distance. I’d assume she was thinking about old timey lollipops, but in actuality she’d be thinking about Gordy Gurderson, her high school sweetheart. She missed him dearly. He had a big game against top seeded Mather High School coming up and she wanted to wish him luck. Suddenly, the courtroom aide would charge through the over-sized mahogany courtroom door. Short of breath, the aide would reveal that he discovered Fred Bigsby had flown the day before he murdered 12 people. Everyone would gasp. Being crammed into an airplane and witnessing the human race at their slowest, loudest, and most aggravating-est is a soul-shattering experience, one that logically ends in mass murder. The Babies R Us store murderer would be cleared of all charges!

Cyber Bullies (Still on Horse Drawing Hiatus)

I saw this newspaper headline the other day:

New Law Cracks Down on Cyber Bullies

You know what’s more terrifying than a text-based voice LOLing at your deepest darkest insecurities until you cry?- An flesh-based bully farting on your personal pan pizza in the middle of the lunchroom. As a member of an old school, body-based bully battalion I say “come on U.S. Government! Where’s our parade?!” We are working our asses off throwing dung filled water bottles at nerds, dweebs, and the ever resilient buttholes and you’re giving our internet based counterparts all the attention. How about drafting up a law against us so we have a physical challenge? Or are you glasses-upped government folks too sissy to do anything about it? Just wait, Obama. I’m going to super fart in your presidential pan pizza during sixth period lunch next week. You just wait.

TIME OUT!

Pardon my absence. Something came up. See below for an artist's rendering.

I'll be back with 10 horse drawings on August 10th.

Later,

Rachel

Extreme Physical Challenge: DAY ELEVEN

Here is today's inspirational image:


The inspirational song: Wilco's Handshake Drugs

Now, the drawing:

Click to enlarge.

Extreme Physical Challenge: DAY TEN

Here is today's inspirational image:
On to my rendition. Note, time spent: 345 seconds.

Now that I'm using my eyes and ears (see DAY NINE), I've decided to kick it up a notch and use my nose as well. Today's scent was Ortego taco sauce. Notice the spicy hat.

Today's inspirational sound was Squeeze Box by The Who, specifically the line, "Mama has a squeeze box she wears on her chest. When daddy comes home he never gets no rest." The rest of picture is pretty self-explanatory. The only qualification I need to offer is that I am incapable of drawing an accordion. I substituted a piano. I think it still works.

Oh, also I suck at drawing the human form. I made the dad's body iceskates. I think it still works.

Extreme Physical Challenge: DAY NINE aka Questions Rise and Horses Fall

Here is today's inspiration: And, day 9's results: Time spent: 61 seconds
Comments: Now that I'm using my eyes before drawing (i.e. looking at a picture of a horse), life is boring. I mean, where's the physical challenge?! The great news is I rediscovered it; I started using my eyes AND MY EARS while drawing. This morning I put my MP3 player on shuffle and drew a horse while listening to the first song that came up. It just so happened that Love Boat Captain by Pearl Jam was the lucky winner. Odds are you are either unfamiliar with/hate this song. All you need to know is its sentimental and one of the lyrics includes the word "insurmountable." I got to thinking, what would a horse be like if he were sentimental and difficult to mount? That drawing is what I came up with. Please appreciate the pain in Sir Insurmountable's eyes. He's thinking about oats, lost oats, and oat-based betrayals. But who isn't these days? Especially in this economy. Speaking of the economy, do economy sized vehicles shrink and grow based on the state of the economy? If not, I feel we should rename them. It's misleading. Speaking of the word "misleading," if I were a feminist I would say Mister-leading. That would be my only feminist action. I'd be on the "change that one word" platform of feminism.

Aging Children and Extreme Physical Challenge: DAY EIGHT

You know why we rarely find missing children? Because photorealistic renderings of missing children are majorly flawed. For those of you who don't know, photorealistic renderings are often used to create up-to-date images of children that have been missing for a number of years. You can find these pictures on milk cartons (if you live in the 70s) and in ValuPak coupon envelopes (if you live in the present). Here is an example:

Photorealistic renderings are completely useless because they don't reflect current trends. Here are the three most obvious kid-trends that need to be accounted for:

1. We have totally insane obesity rates. All updated photos should have the kids AT LEAST 50 lbs overweight.

2. Funny hat sales are at an all time high (4000% increase from 1989).
3. Most kids I see are standing in the worst possible spots on the planet (like blocking me from swiftly entering my office, the train, or my local planned parenthood). All artist renderings of missing children should have them blocking an entrance of some sort.

Watch and learn, scientists:Also, here is a picture of a horse:

As you can see, I tried it in Paint today.

Horse Biography (This will only make sense to Maria Lewis):
This is Mary the Trainer Jr. Her father is mullet man (no one knows what they're feeding him). Her mother is Kyle from Pierce dining hall. Some say she has a mom haircut, but we all know she has a dad haircut.

Extreme Physical Challenge: DAY SIX & DAY SEVEN

Day 6 and Day 7 brought very different results. First, here is day 6's.
I know what you're thinking... WTF. That stands for Whatta Top Filly. Can you believe I did that without a picture to reference?! Great news everyone, that horse took 6 seconds to draw!

Here are the results for day 7. First, the inspiration:


Now my drawing:


I bet you're thinking the rollerblades on this horse are a total fail. Find me the other half of that picture and prove to me there aren't rollerblades and I'll concede. Now who has a physical challenge?

Skydiving Theories + Extreme Physical Challenge: DAY FIVE

I know I write a lot about babies. I do it because babies are foreign to me and I’m a "curious Cathy." (NOTE TO SELF: Look up whether that’s a phrase people say. If not, take out a patent. (NOTE TO SELF WITHIN A NOTE TO SELF: Find out if you can take patents out on words and phrases)). Anywho, here is another baby related blog post.

I implore a baby owner to take their baby skydiving. I really, really want to know if they’d cry. I have some theories.

Theory 1:
A baby would NOT cry. Babies are so unobservant they wouldn’t notice they were in the sky.

Theory 2:
Even if they did cry, it would be unrelated to the fact they are diving through the sky. They cry about juice almost constantly; Too much of it, not enough of it. Juice is to babies as Vietnam is to hippies.

In sum, PLEASE TAKE A BABY SKYDIVING. Tell me if it cries. If it does, tell me whether you think it had anything to do with the sky. As far as I know most of their problems are land-based.

Best,
Rachel

Also, here is a drawing of a horse. Its on my friend Manno’s arm. I did it without using my eyes because I was participating in a staring contest.

Extreme Physical Challenge- DAY FOUR

Here is day four's attempt. First, the breathtaking inspiration:
Now, my drawing. Note time spent: 35 seconds


Self Critique: Not god awful. I think it is because I actually looked at a picture of a horse today. Additionally, I spent more than 15 seconds trying. If you look back on my other drawings you will notice none of those horses have ears. You may ask, did you forget to draw them? ANSWER: no! I forgot they had them. I wish that weren't true, but it is.

Extreme Physical Challenge- DAY THREE

Here is day three's attempt. First the inspiration:


Now, my drawing. Note, time spent: 14 seconds

Self Critique: Things obviously took a turn for the worse. This is awful. His mane looks stupid. His tail looks like a butt waterfall. It took me two seconds longer than yesterday. Let's hope that things on the horse drawing front improve tomorrow!

Extreme Physical Challenge- DAY TWO

Here is day two's attempt. First the inspiration:
Then, my drawing. Note, time spent: 12 seconds



I would say I've made limited progress. I'm going faster, but I'm not getting better... I guess the mane has more of a wind-blown look which I think is an improvement. However, I forgot to color in the hooves.

I wish I had more attention to horse details. And so it goes...

Extreme Physical Challenge

For some reason I suck at drawing horses. Maybe it's because I have no artistic background. Maybe its because I don't try to look at a picture of a horse when I draw one. Maybe its because I've never spent more than 20 seconds trying. Whatever the reason it needs to stop. I'm giving myself 30 days to become a world class horse drawer. I'll post the daily results of this thrilling physical challenge for your enjoyment and/or outrage!

Here is DAY ONE:

Time spent: 16 seconds

Dear Internetie

I’ve spent many of the best hours of my life messing with people on Yahoo Answers. Here is a question I asked yesterday:

One minute later, I received this response:This was one of many concerned bystanders. I decided to ignore all of their dissension and named Paul Buraeu's answer the "best answer." See below.

Naturally I felt indebted to the yahoo community. I decided to remove my "asking" cap to put on my "answering" beanie. I was immediately drawn to this question:

I leaped into action.

I was on fire! I jumped at the opportunity to answer another compelling question:

My response was as follows:

Please note, I included the Queen of Convenience's entry because it epitomizes the 9 other responses to this question, save mine.

It was an amazing day. I ended up answering 10 more questions. I was the g.d. bee's knees!... until I came across the greatest question ever posed on Yahoo Answers! Tune in next week for that story, sirs and ma'ams!

Digression

I know a person who has no income, no original ideas, and no discernible skills. They are hands down the worst listener I’ve ever encountered. I would say the only things they are skilled at is TAKING & NEEDING.

This person I speak of is…. EVERY. BABY. EVER.

Babies are non-contributors to modern society. There are no baby writers or philosophers or scientists yet they are highly valued. People are outraged when a baby isn’t provided with optimal living conditions.

What a waste of optimal living conditions. I mean, you could put a baby on the top of a skyscraper, precariously teetering right at the edge for several hours, and then check back with them 20 years later and be like "Hey, man, you cool?" And they would be like "Yeah, why?" and you would be like, "Well, I left you on top of the Willis Tower for 5 hours, 19 years ago." And that grown baby would be like, "Oh I don’t remember that. Want a pretzel?" You'd say, "Sure. How refreshing." You'd eat the pretzel. Then you would ask, "Where did you buy these? They're so fresh." The grown baby would tell you Jewel. You would later go to Jewel and look for the same pretzels but they would be sold out. You'd consider buying a different brand of pretzels, but then suddenly realize you forgot your wallet at your friend Steve's house.

Lawn of the Land

People who adorn their homes with cute trinkets and figurines have a major problem; they need you to see their adorable collectibles but they can’t trick you into entering their home. Enter lawn decorations.

Lawn decoration owners (LDOs) are people who resort to putting their adorable, funny, and generally delightful possessions on the lawn so random passersby are forced to bear witness to their personality and interests.

Below are some common lawn decorations and my assessment of what specific intentions are behind putting them on display.

1. THE FROZEN DOG

“Hey, I want you to think I own a miniature German Sheppard that enjoys providing quality light sources even during our brightest hours.”

2. BUTTS ON DISPLAY

“I need you to think I fell into some shrubs parallel to my duck sidekick. I am as skilled at maneuvering my yard as a duck.”

3. FLOWER TOILET

"I Shit flowers!! And, I upper deck flowers too! I’m an adorable prankster!!"

4. SHOE FLOWER POT

"A hobo died in my yard and I'm too lazy to dispose of his shoes. A bird and some flowers worked out a co-leasing agreement of said shoe."