My Brain Just Exploded

Exploding head

I received a spam comment yesterday. And such a spam comment, I have never seen. It was a spam comment on any recommendations I might have to avoid spam comments. Spam to avoid spam!? BOOM. My brain just exploded.

And then, because I hadn’t done it in a while, I decided to have a look-see at what search terms have recently driven traffic to this my most beloved and trusty blog. And you know, what? My head exploded again. BOOM. It was like brains and imagination and curse words all over the place. Gross but beautiful. Before you continue reading, go to a safe and easily washable place- you want to make the brain matter clean-up as painless as possible.

Starving jokes– You people are sick. I distinctly remember writing a blog about how starving jokes cross a line. Take your garbage elsewhere

 Neck brace– Do you need one? Are you hurt? As magical as my blog may seem, it can’t heal you. Please seek medical attention immediately.

Is the term spinster ok to use?– Ummm, yes. I’ve been over this. You may mean it as an insult but historically speaking, it’s a compliment. Unless you’re calling me one and then it’s like “Yo mama a spinster.” and so forth.

Need to know about Donald Duck– Why? Maybe he doesn’t want you to know him. Maybe he’d like a little peace and quiet for a change. Back off his jock y’all.

This blog is probably written by a female 15-17– No, it’s not. Sucka! I’m 26 but I write like a teenager. Jealous? Oh wait…I want to look like a teenager not write like one. Balls.

You suck at flirting– You suck as flirting! Judgy McJudgester. Take your insults elsewhere, no matter how “true” they may be.

Birds that mean death– There are bids that mean death??! Look to the skies! Flying death! Save the children! Oh the horror! Which bird means death? Which bird??????

I am a trendsetter– No, you’re conceited. I am a trendsetter.

Should you help your girlfriends crush stalk her?– I’m really confused on the dynamics here. You have a girlfriend, she has a crush (that isn’t you), but you want to help that guy stalk her?? Still confused. Look, if you want my help, I’m going to need two things.

1. A better explanation.

2. A goat or other type of barnyard animal as payment. Actually, I want a sheep. Make it a sheep.

Why am I so terrified of aliens?– Because they are TERRIFYING. You should take pride in the fact that you’re intelligent enough to fear what should be feared. Luckily for you, I have a very good strategy for survival in the case of an alien attack. It involves large amounts of water, napalm, samurai swords, any type of swords really, daggars, and care-bear songs. I can’t give it all away but try and make your way to me in the case of an alien invasion and I will offer you my protection. You won’t be sorry. (You’ll probably be sorry.)

Naked girl with hat hugging two bears in the forest– This seems dangerous. I think you’ve misinterpreted what you’re seeing. You query should have read “All girl’s clothes except hat shredded as she is mauled by bears in the forest.”

Is a girl flirting if she doesn’t talk to me- Nope. I’m pretty sure flirting involves speech. I mean, I’m no expert, obviously, but it seems like there should be communication of some sort involved. Is she winking and “making eyes” at you? That may be flirting. Is she ignoring your very existence? Probably not flirting. At least, she isn’t flirting well. Wait, are we talking about me? Am I the girl who wasn’t talking to you? Because then, I probably was flirting.

Contrary to later– Contrary to later would be….now. You are a very wise person. I’m going to use this line if you don’t mind. “Hey GotC! Want to grab some lunch?” “Why yes I would! I would like to grab some lunch contrary to later.”

Can you see my thong– My blog isn’t a magic mirror. I can’t answer that question. Although, how amazing would it be if my blog were a magic mirror??

Are you Jamaican? Because you- ja-makin me crazy.– Oh you.

I may look like an ewok.– I can not think of any reason why this term brought anyone to my blog, however, I welcome you with open arms. Although, I don’t know what an ewok is or looks like. Nevertheless, you will find safe haven here Sir Ewok.

More endorphins less war.– Indeed. If the leaders of the world read this blog, all would be saved.

BOOM. Have fun cleaning up all the brains.

I Say Things Drunk People Say.

I had a revelation last week- I say things that drunk people say, but, well, I’m not drunk. So, that seems weird, no? Was I “born this way” as Lady Gaga would have me believe, or, was this odd habit developed out of awkward and uncomfortable life experiences? We may never know. Except, I want to know. So, I’m leaving it up to you to decide. Not just because I like you, but because I trust your medical opinions. You are all doctors, right? Here is a sampling of conversations I have really had that have elicited the question, “Are you drunk?”


Me: You said the guy was named Ivan?

Friend: No, Evan.

Me: We might as well call him Boris.

Friend: ???????????

Me: Well, I’m going to call him Boris.

Friend: Please do.


Me: I wish people would actually say the punctuation in their sentences.

Family: What?

Me: Like, right now, I would say ”  If you were so smart (sarcastic quotation marks) you would have thought about saying your punctuation out loud- period.”

Family: Sarcastic quotation marks?

(I then give a demonstration of sarcastic quotation marks)

Family: Should punctuation have adjectives?

Me: Yeah. Why shouldn’t they? I don’t believe in discriminating – comma,  punctuation deserves adjectives too-  emphatic exclamation mark!

Family: Ha.

Me: I wish people appreciated my genius- wistful period.

Divisible by 11

Me: I forgot you are 22. That means you’re divisible by 11!! So exciting.

Sister: Nope.

Me: It’s math.


Me: She’s just a….a…..stupidhead.

Friend: A what?

Me: A stupidhead?

Friend: Really?

Me: Hey, I call a spade a spade. And I certainly call a stupidhead a stupidhead.

Friend: Are you in kindergarten?

Me: I wish! We once had a project where we put colored food dye in whipped cream and then painted with it. It was delicious and artistic.

Friend: I don’t know how to respond to that.

So, there you have it. In your professional medical opinion, was this a nature or nurture thing? And to follow that question up, does any of us actually care? I can only answer for myself and the answer is no. No, I don’t care because I think my sober drunk comments are hilarious. Even if no one else does….because they are stupidheads emphatic exclamation point!

This Makes Me Really Proud. And Confused.

Kenny Rogers

Kenny Rogers, the face of Girl on the Contrary

I can’t decide whether Google is screwing with me or whether you people just get me. I hope it’s the second but, to be honest, it’s totally ok with me if Google is screwing with me because, wow, they have world domination to worry about so I must be really special for them to take some time to mess with me. Whatever the case, the recent search terms that people use to find my blog have made me so very, very proud.

Immortal jellyfish- What??? They are immortal??? That is terrifying. Oh wait, I blogged about that. I knew that. Still terrifying. So, what are we doing about this humans??

Poopeye- I don’t know what this means. It could be one of two options. 1. You meant Popeye. 2. You have poop in your eye. If it’s the first, no worries, it was a simple typo, it could have happened to anyone. If it’s the second you need to see a doctor immediately because if you don’t you will get eye chlamydia.

Kenny Rogers Lucille lyrics- This is incredible. Especially since I’ve never blogged about Kenny Rogers. But I am now. Kenny Rogers, y’all!

Can a man go in a Romans restroom?- Hey man. I don’t believe in segregating restrooms based on people’s ethnicity. I believe in a world where a man can go into any restroom whether he is a Roman or not. Take your racism somewhere else.

Why would a grocery store be haunted?- Umm, I could give you like a million reasons. 1. Because someone slipped on a strawberry and broke their neck and died. 2. Because an entire shelf of canned goods collapsed on someone and killed them. 3. Because someone had a terrible accident while racing through the store in their grocery cart- and they died. 4. Someone was brutally murdered there. I could keep going, but it all revolves around dying and murder, and I don’t want to give you nightmares or a phobia of grocery stores.

How to segway into making out- I can only help you if you want to find out how to make-out on a segway. Hint: It’s awesome.

Im not invisible, what does that mean?- It means people can see you. There is probably a joke in there somewhere but I actually can turn invisible and don’t want to make light of what a gift that is.

Up Yours, One-Uppers!

You know them. You loathe them. We all do.

They are the One-Uppers. They are those that always have a better story, a worse sickness, a better car, a better haircut, a harder work assignment, a sexier lover, a whatever it takes to one-up whatever it is you have. They suck. Not because you suspect they are liars and not because they are constantly trying to outdo you but because they are annoying as hell. And why are they annoying? Because they are most likely liars and they are always trying to outdo you. It’s a vicious cycle. But you can’t avoid them because THEY ARE EVERYWHERE. Which has led me to believe that they are aliens that are slowly but surely invading our planet and posing as humans in order to vanquish the human species through sheer annoyance. ALIENS.

Well I got you figured out you stupid aliens. And I’m not going down without a fight. I declare WAR on you One-Uppers (I assume the name of your home planet is Oneupperus). That’s right. WAR. But it’s going down non-violently. I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of unleashing a large can of whoop-ass on you (because I assume, given your record, that you have a keg of whoop-ass which would be much larger than my can). I plan on doing this the Contrary way. By making you laugh so hard you pee yourselves and then are shamed (you know, because you peed yourself) into leaving this planet. Also- when you bait me with your one-uppityness I will not get annoyed, I will merely give you a look of pity because, hey alien, I see your game for what it is. I’m no fool. And don’t think I’m not going to “out” you to the world. Every single time you try to play the one-up card, I am going to respond by saying “Are you an alien?” BOOM. I just rocked your world. Now you are going to have to flee back to Oneupperus because I got everyone thinking about how you probably are an alien. BOOM BOOM. Look at me dropping truth bombs on you. In. Your. Faces. (Plural because I’m pretty sure you have more than one face…….WAIT……..are you in cahoots with the two-faces? Awww man- this war just got all kinds of inter-galactic)

In conclusion, you have been found out. And because my war on you isn’t violent, but I will still be saving my beloved planet Earth, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get like 100 Nobel Peace Prizes. Also, I’m going to write a book about our war and then I will win a Nobel Prize for Literature. One-up that suckas!!!!

This Really Happens To Me. A lot.


If you have ever read this blog at all, you know I’m a frequent daydreamer. If this is the first post you’re reading of mine….well, I’m a frequent daydreamer. That seems redundant but I didn’t want anyone to not feel included. (I was imagining how I would feel if it was my first time to read someone’s blog and they were referencing all the readers who already read their blog, but not mentioning me, the newcomer, and I thought that I might feel a little like an outsider. )

So, I’m a daydreamer. That’s been covered.

Sometimes, I get really lost in my daydreams. Like, really lost. So lost in fact, that I speak out loud. Oh yes, I say whatever I’m thinking in my daydream OUT LOUD. Usually, I’m in my car (yes, I daydream and drive- but I’m also an excellent multi-tasker so no worries.) Or, sometimes alone at home (which, sounds a lot more pathetic now that I’ve written it down…)

But every so often, I’m not alone. In fact, I’m at work or out in public. And guess what? No one knows what I’m talking about because I say things like ” I would like to thank the Nobel committee…” or “I can’t believe I’m a NY Times bestseller.” or “Oh Aslan, I thought I would never make it to Narnia.” or “I can eat whatever I want and never gain weight.” You know, things like that. And let me tell you something, there is NO way to make myself not look crazy when this happens.

BUT- I think I have devised a fool-proof plan to turn the tides on the “crazy” label. It’s a two part plan because any good plan has more than one part.  Part 1, denial. I’m just going to claim that I never said anything at all. Let them think they heard something that never really happened. Deny, deny, deny. But also, act like I’m really worried about them and say things like “You’ve just been so tired lately.” or “Are you feeling alright?” And sure, it might be really cruel of me to convince other people that they are the ones who are crazy when in reality I’m the one acting insane but I figure that I can make that all up by daydreaming really happy things for them. Really, they should thank me because in daydream-land their lives are beyond sweet. Part 2, if part 1 doesn’t work, then I plan on playing up the crazy big time. Take it from talking out loud while daydreaming to full-on mental break. That way, I’ll probably get to go home early or maybe someone will let me cut in line at the grocery store. This is a really good plan. I can see this improving my life like 10-fold. And- if you have this problem, then I’m improving your life 10-fold. I bet that Nobel Prize isn’t far away….

A Weird Thing Happened In The Bathroom

Womens Restroom Signs

I don’t know why I always end up witnessing bizarre public restroom behavior. Maybe it’s some kind of strange gift. First, it was a man in the women’s restroom and then it was the following incidents…

I walked into the restroom and a women was washing her hands. So far, everything is normal. I walked into the stall and started to close the door, as I was closing the door I noticed the women who had been washing her hands walking back into the stall next to mine. Odd, but not too odd. Then, she started flushing the toilet over and over again. So that was pretty weird. Then, I hear her spinning the toilet paper roll over and over again while continuing to flush the toilet. Über weird. Oh wait, did I mention that the entire time she was flushing the toilet and spinning the toilet paper she was talking on her cell phone loudly in another language? BIZARRE.

A few days later, I walked into the restroom and all but one of the lights are out. Hmm. Ok. I flip the switch, nothing happens, I shrug my shoulders and walk toward the stalls. Every stall had an open door. Let me repeat that- every stall had an open door. Unfortunately, not every stall was empty. Apparently, some women from some other office didn’t feel the need to shut the stall door while taking a wee. Awkward and strange. I was seriously creeped out but then I started to think that maybe she was just really afraid of the dark. I mean, it wasn’t that dark but it was sort-of dark and maybe she just couldn’t handle that. Although, I don’t know why she wouldn’t have just gone to the other restroom. So, I’ve pretty much just chosen to be creeped out by this. Even if she was afraid of the dark.

Basically, the moral of these stories is that very strange and awkward things happen to me in public restrooms. Why? I don’t know. What I would like, is for these strange experiences to stop. Because really, these incidents do creep me out. Do things like this happen to anyone else???? Or am I all alone in my creeped-out-ness?


My Grocery Store Is Haunted.


I imagine they look something like this.

The following account is completely true. (In my opinion)

My company’s Thanksgiving potluck lunch is today. So, I spent yesterday baking pumpkin cupcakes and apple pie. This story is not about that. It’s about what happened when I went to the grocery store to buy all the baking supplies I needed. It was a blistery night. The stars at night were big and bright (clap clap clap clap deep in the heart of Texas. – You might only get this if you’re from Texas. If you aren’t from Texas then just keep reading and accept there are some things you will never understand about this blog). I was at the grocery store late to avoid the crowds. Little did I know, I wasn’t alone.

Actually, I knew I wasn’t alone because, duh, I was at a grocery store. But that sounded more ominous than “there were at least 2o other people there, oh and also some ghosts.”

The ghosts were waiting for me. Waiting to turn my night into a confusing nightmare. I walked in the store with my grocery list in hand. Somehow, I suspect it was the ghosts, time sped up and I found myself in an aisle completely alone and without a grocery list. Panic took over. My entire 2 hours with that list flashed before my eyes and I couldn’t help but reminisce about the time in the fruit aisle when that list saved me from buying only 4 apples when I needed 8. Desperately, I searched for my list. It wasn’t in any of the usual places, my purse, my pockets, my shoe. I paced up and down every aisle, looking for where I might have accidently set my list down and walked away from it. How could I have taken such advantage of it? Why did I have to lose it to appreciate it? Then I realized, something else was afoot. I’m not usually that forgetful. Never before have I lost a list. I stopped right where I was and, like Sherlock Holmes, used my logic to solve the mystery of the kidnapped list. The answer was so simple. Ghosts.

There was no other explanation. It had to be ghosts. But what had I done to offend them? How could I contact them to discuss the return of my beloved list? Apparently, they weren’t in the mood to communicate because no matter what I did, no matter how many times I screamed out loud, or spoke in tongues, or did the “We need to talk” dance, they wouldn’t answer. I’m only left with one conclusion. The ghosts who haunt my grocery store are the ghosts of former hooligans who take the greatest pleasure in tomfoolery. My guess is that the grocery store was built on some kind of graveyard that was reserved for hooligans. Way to think ahead grocers. Everyone knows you don’t build things on graveyards.

What else could I do but continue shopping and leave my list behind never to be seen again? I had to move on with my life. If the situation was reversed I would want the list to move on. The hooligan ghosts win this time. I have a game plan for next time though and without going into too much detail- it involves slingshots as peace offerings.

I share the story to warn you of the dangers of grocery store hooligan ghosts. No one seems to have ever talked about them before, and I can only assume that is because people are afraid. Well, I’m not. I want the world to know that grocery store hooligan ghosts exist. I’m like a crusader (except this isn’t religious and I certainly won’t be killing anyone). I am the Norma Rae of the grocery store hooligan ghost industry. You’ve been warned. Tell your friends.

Things I Would Do If I Were Stuck In An Elevator

elevator help is on the way

My company moved offices last week. Our old building had elevators that were covered in mirrors that made you look really fat. They hurt my self-esteem on a daily basis. So, I was pretty excited to see the elevators at the new office were not mirrored. Well, I was excited about them until I got into one and the doors didn’t shut completely but the elevator started to go down anyway. Not super comforting. I can’t decide which is worse, the apparent lack of safety in the new elevators or the soul-crushing of the old elevators. I’ll probably just take the stairs from now on. Except that the stairs in the new office look like they might be haunted. Love. It.

Anyway this experience forced me to think about what I would do in case I got stuck in the probably haunted, at the very least not safe, elevator at work. This is the list I came up with. I am now completely prepared for the worst. Except for the haunted part, I really need to get a plan together in case of ghosts. In fact, I can’t believe I don’t already have one. I’m not as prepared for life as I thought I was if I don’t have a haunting contingency plan.

Note: This list assumes I have my purse with me. Also, you should know I have a lot of things in my purse.

1. Create my own language. I might do this even if I don’t get stuck in an elevator. But I was just thinking that getting stuck in an elevator is probably really motivating and since I would be facing death I would probably want to leave something behind to be remembered for. I’m pretty sure my language would have a lot of z’s in it. I bet someone deliberately traps me in an elevator now because they are so eager to hear the language I create, but don’t do it people, these things need to happen naturally.

2. Write down all the animals I can think of and then alphabetize them. I bet I could think of a lot of animals and I really like to alphabetize things. This would be a pretty excellent time killer. And hey, an alphabetized list of animals would make a really great present to give to someone. I’m nothing if not a multi-tasker.

3. Practice my dance moves. Getting stuck in an elevator would be a stellar opportunity to perfect my killer moves. Also, I might create some new dance moves that would be so amazing they would create world peace. Is there a Nobel prize for dancing? Probably not, because everyone knows I would win every year and that might seem unfair to people after a while.

4. Write a song parody to the alphabet song. How could I even do this? Magic. Also, the language I create might have a part in it.

5. Try to communicate with the ghosts in the elevator. Obviously, the elevator is haunted, otherwise, how would it have gotten stuck? Duh. Everyone knows that if an elevator gets stuck it’s because it’s haunted. I bet they would be pretty cool ghosts and after we talked for a while they might feel kind of bad about trapping me and then tell me some secrets that would make me really rich to apologize. Thanks ghosts, I’m really glad we had a chance to talk, and don’t worry about trapping me, it makes for a good story.

6. Write a treatise on something revolutionary. I’ve always wanted to do this. Getting stuck in an elevator is as good an opportunity as any other. Also, I bet if you’re stuck in an elevator a lot of things become really clear to you.

7. Take a nap. I might be in there a while and I really need my rest if I’m going to do 1-6.


What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator???

That Mango is Fresh

So, it seems that I have developed a bad habit of verbalizing my constant and ever-flowing stream of consciousness into my conversations with people. I’m pretty sure that while sometimes this can be funny mostly it is annoying. Please accept this blog post as an apology (the title of this post should make it clear to those whom I am apologizing to).

So, in an effort to be less annoying in conversation I thought I might get a little of my typical stream of consciousness out in this blog. You are welcome, or, I sincerely apologize, depending on how you feel. Also, my stream of consciousness is more like the river Nile than a stream. You’ve been warned.

The Nile

Welcome to my consciousness. There might be crocodiles.

The following is an approximation of the thoughts I was having when I went to dinner with my dear friends last Friday and ate some really fresh mango.

They really look pretty  tonight. I wonder if she made that dress or bought it. She is so good at sewing. Should I sew? Can I sew? Do I have the attention span needed to sew? I wonder if I have ADD. Probably not. I might have had more trouble in school if I had it. Is there late-onset ADD? Because I might have that. I wonder how many people go without being diagnosed with diseases they actually have? I bet lots. Lots and lots of sick people who don’t know it. That would be awful. I hope I don’t have a disease I don’t know about. Oh great, now I sound like my Grammy. What did she just say? I’m going to need to take a bite of her dessert. This dinner was so good. I could die happy with a meal like this. I don’t really want to die though. Just a thought. Why did I qualify it was “just a thought” to myself? I know it’s a thought I freaking thought it. Something is definitely wrong with my brain. Yum, this mango is really fresh. Oops, I just said “that mango is really fresh” out loud and interrupted her story. I’m a jerk. You know who else is a jerk?  That guy I saw texting and driving on the way here. Way to put other people in danger douche bag. I can’t believe I got lost on the way here- I’ve been here before. I am getting really sick of my directionally challenged ways. Also, why do I only have a hard time getting around the USA? I never once have gotten lost in East Africa or Europe. Ok, there was that 1 time in Ireland I apparently got on the wrong bus. Although I still think it was the right bus and I should have just asked but I was too humiliated and then I just ended up getting off in some neighborhood and walking around like I knew where I was going. Then I found a cab and just barely had enough money for him to take me to my hotel. I’m so embarrassed. Man, the Chinese food at that hotel was amazing though. I haven’t had Chinese food in a while. This place is probably some of the best Mexican food I have ever had. I’m glad she picked this place. I should come here more often. There was a Hey Cupcake on the way here, I should stop by there later. Those cupcakes are so delicious. I wonder how early they have to get up? I dread waking up early. It’s not that I sleep late, I just don’t like having to get up. I should start working out more though. I miss my daily yoga. Why did I stop? I wonder if it would help my mood at work? Maybe I should try that. I’m so glad it’s a long weekend. I don’t want to do anything. I just want to lay around and watch trashy television and write blog posts. Do I have enough blog ideas for next week? I don’t want to have a bad week, my stats have dropped enough as it is. I hope people aren’t getting bored with my writing. I really need to focus on my book. How am I ever going to get published if I don’t finish it? I’m a failure. No, I’m not a failure, think positive. Ok, time to pay the check.

This is only about a quarter of the things I thought. And I was having a conversation the whole time (although admittedly it was punctuated by some of these thoughts on accident). I would say this is a pretty impressive feat of multi-tasking. Only, I wasn’t really getting anything done.

Sorry to my two beautiful friends! I will really try not to let this happen again. But it might.

Your Office Doesn’t Care About Your Health.

BlockedI do care about your health. I want to make sure you know as much as possible about serious diseases such as eye chlamydia. Your office doesn’t want you to know that. They want you to get eye chlamydia. They are probably trying to kill you. Shame on them.

How do I know this? Well, I was first informed by one Mr. OpentoAdventure that his office had blocked my blog due to the term “chlamydia”. Had that been the only issue I might have chalked this up to a victory- a real “Damn the Man” moment. Unfortunately, what happened is that I then learned that many readers of this blog were unable to read my blog because of office blocks. Immediately, I realized this was a conspiracy to keep people misinformed about eye chlamydia. Someone doesn’t want you to know about this highly contagious disease, but who is it? I went through the list of usual suspects, Pharmaceuticals, Insurance, Otters, and the Government, but I ruled them out one by one. Who is behind this campaign of blocked information/humor  or as I like to call it ” The Eye Chlamydia Conspiracy of 2010″ ??

The answer to that question is spiders. Eight-legged many eyed spiders. As it turns out they want to have the monopoly on eyes in nature so they want yours to become diseased and fall out. And office internet watchdogs are in on it. The spiders are paying them off. In silk. Oh wait, that’s silkworms. Ok- the spiders are paying them off by scaring their enemies for them. It’s like a mafia thing. The spiders play the tough guys for the office internet watchdogs and then the watchdogs then in turn block my website so you can’t learn about eye chlamydia. Jinkies!

The worst part is that you probably can’t even read this post to become informed about this horrific plot to kill your eyes by the spiders because I have used the word “chlamydia” like 1 million times. Your eyes are going to fall out!!! Because, I’m pretty sure that’s what eye chlamydia does to you. Evil spiders. Just because they want to have the monopoly on eyes. I can’t imagine what they are doing to other creatures with eyes. This is a sad and scary world folks.

Also, I wrote this post because my sister thought my first eye chlamydia reference was funny.

So really it comes down to 4 things.

1. Your office doesn’t care about your health.

2. Spiders want to be the only creatures with eyes.

3. Spiders and office watchdogs are in the mafia together.

4. My sister thinks I’m funny.

Also, I bet you won’t believe that I wrote this post completely sober. I did. It really is a sad scary world.