Posts Tagged ‘sprinkle cheese’


I just discovered this website called WikiAnswers (by googling “that stupid quote about letting love go and it coming back again and then you had it, or you lost it or something like that”). And let me tell you my friends, I think this is the place for me. 

Essentially anyone with a connection to the internets or access to a public library can ask questions and anyone else with the same luxuries can answer them.  I immediately though…”I am never going to be able to work again because I am going to be answering  ‘Would Chris Brown wanna git wit a eleven year old?’ all day every day from now on.”

Then I realized you have to register for something and that sounded like it would take time, and I don’t have room in my inbox for junk mail from wikianswers because it is full of junk mail from Pottery Barn and Bluefly already.  So I decided to treat you, dear reader,  to the answers to 4 of the questions that I deemed interesting enough to answer.  Enjoy.


A: I think you begin by learning to compose a proper sentence.  I hear they also make a cream for that these days. Its French I believe.  Just google “french tickler.” You are welcome.


A: I am sorry to admit that I, nor anyone on the planet, have any answers for this question.  It is an enigma like “What is Shanae Grimes on? (And can I have some)” or “Does God have feet?” I just wanted you to know that you are not alone.  We are all just as confused as you are as to why movies where men dress up as fat women are so popular. I do offer my most sincere apologies.


A: Thirteen year-olds, like any children, all want the same thing.  To make your life as sticky, noisy, and miserable as possible.  They will use all of your money, eat all of your food, yell at you, and eventually crush your very soul. But then some day they will turn 18 and demand that you spend every last penny that you have in order to send them to college where they will probably do all kinds of reckless things like binge drink, pierce body parts, and make out with frat boys in the “secret room” at the Halloween party.

(Note from the author: I’d like to take this opportunity to congratulate my friend ashley who is knocked up!! I’m sure YOUR kid will be different… just keep them away from me…seriously…I’m begging you, I’ll pay…BIG.)


A: My mother once told me in a life-altering email:

“[Life] is not a beauty contest- maybe [that girl who is really fug that you were talking mad shit about] is beautiful on the inside- WHERE IT REALLY COUNTS. Didn’t you learn anything by watching that old TV show with Tuti, JO (the tomboy), and about 5 others, one was really pretty and rich (she is today a Christian speaker, living in Mt Pleasant TX, I hear her on the radio sometimes), one black, one chubby, they all lived in a boarding school with an older woman,  and others- it came on around the time of Different Strokes but I can’t remember the name of it.    I’m sure Gilmore Girls addressed this issue too….

If you can think of the show let me know, it is driving me crazy.

I think, what my mother is trying to say here, is that people hate emos because they are ugly on the inside. 

I personally believe it is also because they have chosen Pete Wentz to be their king.  We’ll categorize that as “poor decision making skills.”


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Just asking…

Does wondering if I would still love my dog if she only had one eye make me a bad person?


My roommate A. has a dog.  I also have a dog.  The difference is other living beings seem to like my dog. 

Almost every time her dog sees my dog it instantly attacks my dog’s face.  So I guess it is a good thing that she keeps her dog locked in a cage in her closet all day every day (oh, except to take it out to the bathroom and let it run around like the savage that it is and stop to pee three drops in 14 different places in my apartment while A. stands and screams “go to your room, go to your room, I SAID GO TO YOUR ROOM!” and chases it around the dining room table like a scene from I Love Lucy.)

It’s always been a little annoying, but when my dog woke up with a corneal abrasion that was infected (which the vet said was probably caused by rough play with another animal…wonder what little gremlin she could be referring to?) I wanted to put the thing back in the feral cat trap it came from (that is not a joke… the dog was found in a cat trap – you decide its level of intelligence).

So several hours and $178 later, I have to put drops in my dogs eye 4 times a day (because I don’t have to work or anything) and smear some sort of cream that smells vaguely like a bums breath across her eye twice a day. 

But I’m happy to report that the neon green goop in the corner of her eye has now turned a lovely shade of sage green lowering my level of concern from “OH MY GOD MY DOG IS ONLY GOING TO HAVE ONE EYE AND SMALL CHILDREN ARE GOING TO POINT AND SCREAM AT HER FOR THE REST OF HER PITIFUL LIFE!!!” to “eww, this is kind of gross.”

Which is a HUGE relief because why I felt the need to lock  my dog away like Bertha of Jane Eyre would only be a good way to start conversations with men at bars for so long.

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My roommate A. sometimes goes on these things called “dates.” I, on the other hand, often lay around the common areas of our apartment in various states of hangover (both food and booze induced) and watch really, really awful television.

Classic Example.

This Sunday, I had spent most of the day on the couch alternately watching Intervention, Wizards of Waverly Place, and True Life.  I’m not proud to admit it, but at one point I set the DVR to record the movie “My Boss’ Daughter” starring THE Ashton Kutcher and America’s Sweetheart, Tara Ried.  It was that kind of day and I wanted you to get the full impact. 

Eventually our other roommate L. decided to get out of her bed and be productive (read: move to the couch and yell at the TV with me).  

Everyone who is anyone knows that Sunday was the premier of the new holiday family classic “Britney: For the Record.” At some point A. had come out of her room and said something along the lines of “Blah, Blah, Blah, boy, Blah, Blah, Date.” At which I almost threw up in my mouth because… HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A DATE???  If not, let me terrorize your senses for a moment.  It tastes a little like a raisin.


Plus, people are always putting them in weird shit like fruit cakes.  And if there is one thing I hate it is when people mess up perfectly good cakes with fruit. 

Anyway, right about the time that L. and I start giggling and repeatedly yelling “sprinkle cheese” because Daddy Spears has spoken the words of the gods, A. brings her date up to our apartment.  My intial response was to lift the blanket covering my legs and make sure I was wearing pants.  Leggings… damn, guess that is close enough.

She introduced us to him and I said “shhhh Britney is on.” then I turned to the fellow and asked “do you like Britney?” he said “no” and I said “you are a fool” and returned to pretending that he didn’t exist. 

I continued to yell “sprinkle cheese” until Brtiney informed us all that the Paparazzi stole her “cool slang” from her.  At which point I let about 15 really offensive comments slip out of my mouth.

He was petting my dog and asked what her name was.  I said, “Cricket. Careful, shes kind of a slut.” A. almost immeidately said, “uh, this is my room, lets go in there.”

You’d think she was ashamed of me or something. 

Its all cool though, because her dog threw up on the guy right after they went into her room, so I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again.

I can’t help it. I’m just living life like a karate kid.

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