I don’t own a TV, and if I did, I can’t imagine using electricity or time on a show that sounds as stupid as Jersey Shore. But who doesn’t like a make-over? Especially one that makes you thank your lucky stars to have been raised as a corn-fed midwestern girl?
Need a diversion? Take five minutes and visit this site to channel your inner-Jersey. I did, with frightening results: 
I don’t think I’ve EVER attempted to wear that much eyeliner. Even for Halloween.
Ah, Facebook. What would I do without you? My life is so much richer for having you in it.
Case in point: without Facebook, I wouldn’t realize that my 12 year-old nephew is actually 68% black.
I know, I know. This might come as something of a shock to people who are familiar with his corn-silk white hair, blue eyes and creamy complexion. But according to a quiz he took on Facebook (titled, “How Black Are You?”), it turns out he’s 68% black.
Now, I haven’t seen the questions that led to this conclusion, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t involve a DNA sample. Perhaps he knows some rap lyrics and can appropriately attribute the “I have a dream” speech to MLK Jr?
I just hope he doesn’t take the result too seriously and think it means he is a good dancer. I made that mistake once myself, dancing wildly to Eminem at a discotheque in France shouting, “Detroit in the house! Right here!” and pointing at my chest. Fortunately, no one in France can dance, so it wasn’t as horrific if I’d made that claim in a NY club.
Another reason I love Facebook is because it allows me to crack myself up. Regularly. Last week I was practically in tears coming up with what I thought were funny comments to add when “Alan is in a relationship” showed up in my news feed. My first response (which I refrained from posting) was, “…with his hand.”
That had me rolling on the floor, in no small part because I had stolen the phrase from one of my nephew’s pre-teen friends. (Yes, I’m admitting my sense of humor most closely aligns to that of prepubescent boys.)
When I told Alan how much this thought had tickled me, he said, “Good thing you didn’t post that, because my response would’ve been, ‘With YOUR hand.'” Which also cracked me up.
For whatever reason, when I get to laughing like this, it reminds me of how Snoopy would laugh on Peanuts, slapping the table with his paw:
So to all the Facebook haters, I offer: anything that causes that much laughter can’t be all bad. It has to be at least 68% good, right?
For whatever reason, I haven’t felt compelled to write on my blog lately. It’s certainly not lack of material – I’ve had a lot going on, including Liz’s farewell party, my e-staff housewarming party, an upcoming visit from my parents, etc. I just haven’t felt much like writing about any of it.
Instead, I’ve spent my time cracking up at the dumb stuff that’s already floating around online. So I thought tonight I’d share a few of the gems that have crossed my path in recent days…
First: The “girl takes watermelon in the face” video, which is a clip from The Amazing Race:
I used to love watching The Amazing Race because it was fun to speculate how I would perform the challenges in comparison to the people on the show. I’ll give this girl credit: I can’t imagine doing anything but crying after getting pelted in the face with a watermelon. Had it been me, when the friend pushes her to finish the task, I would have looked straight at the camera and exited the show with a big “Eff you” the friend.
The Amazing Race clip reminded of another video that is something of a classic – the Grape Smashing Reporter:
I can’t watch that clip without laughing so hard I cry. In fact, just searching to find the link for this blog entry had me giggling. While the fall is unfortunate, there are two things about it that make me laugh: first, the fact that she started smashing them in double-time after telling the other person to stop, and second, the god-awful noises she makes when she’s rolling around on the ground.
What is it about people hurting themselves that is funny?
It reminds me of a time in college when, walking across campus on my way to class, I saw a guy fall off his bike and bite the pavement pretty hard. I walked over to him to ask if he was all right, but for whatever reason, the words that came out of my mouth were, “How’s it going?” which struck me as so ludicrous – given that he was sprawled out on his back – that I got the giggles and ended up doubled over dying of laughter. I felt horrible even as I was doing it, but I couldn’t get it together.
Speaking of giggles, while the clearly uncooperative dog in this clip is funny, what really got me going was the contagious laughter of the girl filming it. Well, that and the fact that the dog is so opposed to walking that he would rather play dead.
So that’s how I’ve pissed away my week.
I’ve almost finished furnishing my new crib and am closing in on the final task of repainting the walls to match my new scheme. One of the last things I need to pick up is a casual chair for my living room. I’ve had my sites set on something with a bold print, and last week I thought I found just the thing:
But the thing is, it’s from TARGET. What? Since when does Target sell furniture? Don’t get me wrong – I’ve picked up the majority of my stuff from Room & Board or Crate & Barrel, so I’m all too happy to find a piece of furniture that doesn’t cost as much as a family vacation. But seriously? Target? I was concerned about the quality, but decided to go for it and ordered it online.
One of my friends shared the link to this story via Facebook.
Please take three minutes and read it, so you understand why I’m rolling on the floor while I type. (And yes, I recognize that sexual predators are NOT a laughing matter. What? Do I have your attention NOW? See why you need to read it?)
If you haven’t yet read it, let me offer a visual teaser:
Classic: Business up front, party in the rear.
My thoughts – in no particular order:
Nothing like someone who self-identifies as a pervert. If only he would lose the mustache and mullet, people might not cross the street when they see him coming. And he might actually get to finish a massage without someone asking to see his credentials.
That is a cocky smile for a mug shot, no? It’s because deep down, he knows that the policeman who arrested him thinks his plan was somewhat brilliant. I mean: posing as a masseuse and wandering around a movie set? How many men across America are slapping their foreheads, wishing they had thought of this themselves? Answer: All of them.
And please tell me you appreciate the irony here… The movie that was being filmed was called “Touchback.” Apparently this man took that literally. But who can blame him, with a last name like “Ketchapaw,” it’s almost like he was fulfilling his destiny.
Finally, since I’m already going to hell for finding humor in tragedy, let me leave you with this story, which is NOT AT ALL funny, except for the neighbor’s comment of “whoa!” and the fact that the cat had been seasoned and the idea that the male cat was pregnant:
Sorry, PETA.
pithypants 