Make it a betta place...

I record voiceovers for the software programs we produce at work. We have a make-shift recording "studio" (read: supply closet) that rests adjacent to the office next door's conference room. Sometimes they can get loud in there when they are having a large conference call, but usually, my mic does not pick up the sound and I just ignore it an continue. Today was different.

They were having a particularly raucus conference call. It sounded like there were maybe 20 people in the room, and 2-3 on speakerphone. Laughing, clapping, and generally being as loud as possible. All of the sudden, the strangest scene unfolded before my ears. It sounded like the people on the phone had started to sing a song. I couldn't make out the song, but it sounded very familiar to me. Before I knew it, the whole room had joined in. It sounded like a bad church choir. Then it hit me, "are they singing 'Heal the World'?" Yes. Yes, they were.

I thought they would like settle down, and that they were just singing part of it to be funny. Nope. I counted, 1st verse, chorus, 2nd verse...by the time they got to the bridge I thought, my God, they're going to sing the whole thing!

The best was that sometime after the bridge, someone in the room tried to end it by pre-maturely applauding. This action only caused the singers on the phone to get louder! They even did the key change and fancy ending!!! When the song adjourned, applause ensued, and the call ended.

W
T
F

?

Like, for real. WTF was that? I'm totally speechless.

"I just had a wasabi accident"

Today is a rainy, thundery Friday, so we decided to put in an order for sushi delivery here at work. This was the best sushi I've had in a while, like from God's personal sushi stash. The rice was fluffy, the avacodo was fresh, and the wasabi was POTENT. Here is an exchange between me and TheCoworker:

Me: ok I just had a wasabi accident

Me: my eyelids are sweating

Me: I ate like the whole wasabi ball Me: haha

TheCoworker: ahahaha

TheCoworker: sorry

TheCoworker: that first sentence made me laugh!

Me: ahaha

TheCoworker: are you ok?

Me: yeah

Me: it was a fleeting problem, luckily

TheCoworker: i'm having a mini-accident myself with every piece

Me: a big chunk stuck to my ginger

Me: uh oh just had another accident

Me: this one is bad

Me: I think I have a nose bleed!

Me: ok and we're back

TheCoworker: ahaha

TheCoworker: i imagine you passing out momentarily and then coming back

TheCoworker: ahahaha

Me: yeah that’s kinda what happened

Me: the whole world was wasabi green for a brief period in time

Me: btw I'll give you a dollar if you can figure out a creative way to sneak "a big chunk stuck to my ginger" into a meeting here

BTW...I think my fortune cookie just insulted me. My fortune was "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may diet." I MAY diet, or I SHOULD diet? Be real with me, cookie!

This is why I'm fat, this is why I'm fat, this is why, this is why, this is why I'm fat...

This website
http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/

...is the single greatest site on the internet ever. Basically, the site lists the most disgustingly fatty foods that anyone could possibly come up with. For example, bacon donuts: glazed donuts topped with crumbly bits of greasy bacon love. O. M . G. Also, french fry wrapped hot dog on a stick, which is exactly what it sounds like. Someone took a corn dog, but replaced the fried cornbread with french fries, just to ensure a nice myocardial infarction. This site is making fun of all the weird disgusting fatty foods that people have created; however, I want to eat all of it. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a fairly slender girl, but I haven't always been. I'm a big ole bacon-loving fatty at heart. I have Weight Watchers, and a family history of heart failure that scared me into submission to thank for being slender. I've got a lot of will power, but a part of me always lusts for the extra fatty, sweet, and greasy.

Some examples of my inner lard-lover:

-The first time I heard the word "pilates," I thought it was a dessert. I totally wanted some chocolate-covered, cream-filled pilates.
-I can't think of the word "Swedish" and not automatically follow it up with "fish." I just can't.
-I can eat a fat sandwich from Rutgers, whole, in the time it takes for a normal person to finish half of their's and wince in pain, unable to continue.
-I've never saved any of my candy for the movie. Ever. Sometimes it doesn't even make it through the first preview.
-Each time of year can be placed into a "candy season" category for me. Like, right now is conversation heart season, which is second only to jellybean season (but just edging out candy cane season, which is tied with candy corn season).

And so on.

So, you get the idea. "This is why you're fat" is a blogroll that speaks to me. Mmmmm, blogroll.

Aaaaand I'm shady

I recently moved, and so I have some lingering items in my trunk. I just want to point out what they are:

-Dog crate
-Crutches
-Clown shoes
-Amy Winehouse wig
-Shovel
-Rope
-Poker set

...

Does anyone else think I look suspiciously like some sort of shady clown killer? For real, I think if I got pulled over by the police and they needed to search my car, I'd have a lot of 'splainin' to do.

UPDATE: So, my friend, Tek pointed something innerestin' out to me: why would the police "need" to search my car? Guess I'm even shadier than I thought.

Is the plural for fetish supposed to be ‘feti?’ Wait that sounds like the plural for feta cheese. Speaking of cheese…

A few of my friends are currently enveloped in the unpredictable world of online dating. Between them, they’ve probably seen it all: older married men, foot fetish guys, guys that like to dress up in costumes and go to ComiCons, players, stalkers, guys who like to be dominated, you name it. However, today, my friend, Diablo encountered a dude with a story that none of us had EVER heard of. This is the story of SwissCheeseGuy.

Diablo received an IM through the dating website from SwissCheeseGuy. “So, would you like to participate in my swiss cheese fetish?” Her first thought about reading that this gentleman had a “swiss cheese fetish” led her to believe what any sane person would: this guy clearly likes to…er, penetrate the swiss holes. She was immediately disgusted, but intrigued because, um, hi…swiss cheese fetish? Really? Upon looking at his profile, she discovered his true story (I’m only including excerpts):

I love the way Swiss cheese feels against my penis. Either as slices of
((Swiss cheese)) being wrapped around my penis or a chunk of Swiss cheese being
rubbed against my penis. I love even more when a woman uses the Swiss cheese to
pleasure me. Or simply wraps Swiss cheese slices around my penis and allows me
to hang out with her as I wear the cheese.

I prefer Swiss cheese over normal ((sex)) as a way of gratification because
of a childhood condition. I ADHD as a child, that lead to lower self confidence
and mental treatment, out of which I had a hard time forming
relationships.

The reason why is that I am a diabetic, and as a diabetic I have developed
erectile dysfunction. Even tho I can take medication for it, I simply can't get
sustained erections to have normal sex, just hard enough to have my fetish.Now I
am just addicted to it, like a smoker is addicted to cigarettes. It's like a
drug, that I simple can't get enough of.

Everyone has fetishes.

OK…Wow, just wow. I have to agree with Diablo when she said that his profile left her with a lot of emotions. She stated:

Like at first, I was mad that I wasn't right about him liking to stick his dick
in the cheese holes, then I was disgusted...then I was, admittedly, intrigued
with my mental image of a fat dude sitting there with roller up swiss on his
chubby limp peen. Then, I almost got a little sad at the diabetes part, then I
was back to disgusted. Overall, you laughed, you cried, you puked.

I just want to point out that he blames his ADHD for his need to rub swiss cheese on his peen. Right, because having attention span problems naturally progresses into being sexually attracted to dairy in adulthood. If that were the case, given the amount of children diagnosed with attention problems in this country, we’d probably see a steady rise in dairy pricing. You know, supply and demand. And, I know I speak for most when I say that it’ll be a cold day in hell before I pay more than I already have to for cheese. Cheese that I EAT. Seriously, do I blame my obsession for eating as many different kinds of gummy candy as possible on being a child of divorce? No (kind of).

Anyway, I feel kinda bad for SwissCheeseGuy. He’s definitely in the minority. I wanna say that we should all make up fake fetishes and post profiles so he doesn’t feel bad, but honestly, I couldn’t come up with something that good if I tried.

p.s. So um, swiss cheese is pretty much ruined for me forever. From now on, I’m getting cheddar on my ruben sandwiches because, damn.

Realizations, with a touch of dyslexia

When I was younger, there were thoughts I had to myself that I assumed applied to everyone. I found out the truths about these thoughts far too late in life…

For one, I thought it was widely known that Puff the Magic Dragon frolicked in the “Ottomiss.” Yes, I thought this was the name of the town where he lived in the land of Honnahlee. Like Ottomiss, Honnahlee, UK or some shit. This is the reason why I was 110% shocked at the age of 16 when I found out it was really the “Autumn Mist.” Say whaaa?

Secondly, growing up, I thought Princeton was a good representation of New Jersey…until I went to school in Northern New Jersey. Then, I discovered that not only is Princeton NOT a good representation of New Jersey, but that it is not a good representation of anything but itself. It is unique in all of its own good and bad ways. For 18 years, I truly lived in a bubble. “Schools have marching bands??” “Not everyone has to take 5 AP courses even if they don't feel totally qualified?” Yeah, these are realizations I came to.

And lastly, I used to think everyone was a little bit dyslexic. I remember saying to my sister once “You know when you look at a word and you see ‘Pastey’ but then you realize it actually says ‘Patsy?’ Isn’t that weird?” She laughed and rolled her eyes. I figured this was just because she was my sister and she’s allowed to tease me about stuff. So, I went on believing this falsity that everyone is a little dyslexic. Sadly, I only recently came to the realization that this is not true. I came across an online quiz that said something like “if you answer yes to 5 or more of these questions, you may be dyslexic.” I figured, what the hey, and took it….and I answered yes to 9 of them. Uh-oh. I figured I’d do a little searching to see if I couldn’t find more answers. I found another similar questionnaire, where it seemed I was clicking the bubbles next to the Yes’s on every question.
“Do you have trouble concentrating?” YES.
“Do you often daydream?” YES.
“Did you have trouble with word problems in school, but excelled at art and music?” YES.
“Do you make mistakes when writing cheques?” OMG YES (you don't understand how many cheques I've had to void through the years).
“Does your handwriting vary or is illegible?” SERIOUSLY, YES, GET OUT OF MY HEAD.
“Do you hold a pen or pencil unusually, or are ambidextrous?” YES, YES, YES!
“Do you often get confused with dates or are late to appointments?” SHUT UP, YES!

And so on.

So guys, I think I have a problem. How does one get evaluated for dyslexia? And more importantly, how did this slip by all my teachers and loved ones, who passed all these quirks off as “That’s just Caroline being Caroline?” And this friends, is how, at the age of 25, I found out that not everyone is a little bit dyslexic...BUT, I might be. Yikes.

Bring on the salmonella

So the FDA has issued a recall of several peanut butter products apparently. I recieved a voicemail today from ShopRite of a recorded message. It went something like this:

"Our Price Plus records indicate that you have purchased FDA recalled products recently. Jarred peanut butter for consumer use has not been recalled. For more information, please go to www.FDA.gov. Thank you."

So lemme get this straight. I get a voicemail, telling me that I've purchased poison, and they don't tell me what that poison is? Awesome. Good thing they let me know that jarred peanut butter is not tainted. Really, I'm sure most things I've eaten aren't tainted...but WHAT IS?? I think that's really the key piece of information for a call like this. They're like "oh, b-t-dubbs, some kind of grocery you bought, sometime in life at shop rite might kill you. Wellp, enjoy!" Why call me if you're not going to tell me what foods of mine are going to kill me?

The easy solution would be to dump the contents of the fridge, but here's the problem: we moved this weekend, and before we did so we avoided shopping and ATE EVERYTHING WE HAD. Yep, tainted pb crackers, and keebler cookies, and cliff bars and all. Here's the thing. Steve is a hypochondriac. Since he's the person that usually consumes the snacks in the house, I think I just won't tell him about this recall. I'll just wait for him to get sick, and then make him run around so he'll sweat it out. That's how you get rid of salmonella, right? Sweating it out? I dunno, I'm not a doctor. All I know is that my sister had salmonella once and it wasn't that bad. And by not that bad I mean she had crippling squirts for weeks and was hospitalized. But hey, she didn't have to go to work! High five!