Sunny with a Chance of Tsunamis

Would’ve. Should’ve. Could’ve.

Every single human being has regrets in life, and I’m no exception.

My biggest regret?

I missed my true calling.

I should’ve been a meteorologist.

That’s right, one of those weather-predicting people who seem to be wrong more often than right, yet still get paid for constantly screwing up.

Despite the bad rap they get, I read somewhere that meteorologists are actually correct about 80% of the time, overall.

Which is fairly surprising.

The thing is, I live in a place where all kinds of weather-related mayhem is possible in a matter of minutes.

So this could really work to my advantage.

After all, weather forecasting is not an exact science.

It’s more like a multiple choice quiz.

And I know from experience that I can randomly guess and be right more often than not.

I want to get paid to not think. To not make sense. To make off-the-wall predictions that may or may not come true.

And meteorologists do essentially predict the future.

Or at least, they attempt to.

But storms can shift direction, and lessen or increase in force and intensity.

These things happen.

And between aging satellites and drunk meteorologists, things are bound to get more than a little messed up.

The sun is shining! And now it’s… raining?

But it’s still blindingly sunny?!?

Well, the radar did predict a sunny day… so where did that tornado just come from?

When you look outside the window and there are donkeys on tree branches and horses on rooftops…

Yeah.

Somehow, someway, someone was a little off.

One minute, there’s zero chance of rain… and then it’s suddenly raining hard enough to recreate Noah’s Ark.

Which explains that motorcycle floating coasting  down the sidewalk in plain sight of a swarm of cops.

And those bicyclists pedaling for their lives like drenched hamsters on a treadmill against sudden 70 mph gusts of wind.

And the pedestrian who unexpectedly finds herself going for an impromptu swim through six lanes of traffic.

Yet when it’s supposed to rain all day, every day for a week…

There’s not a single cloud in the sky.

But seriously, where the hell did that tornado come from?

Where was that on the radar map?

What gives?

Really and truly, though. I get it. I do.

Nature is unpredictable and has a mind of its own.

But so do I.

And I still think I should’ve been a meteorologist.

Pretty much summarizes my warped vision of the whole weather-predicting process.

Pretty much summarizes my warped vision of the whole weather-predicting process.

End of Year Motivation

Woo hoo!

Today is the day!

The last day of school, that is.

Oh yeah!

And in the spirit of going out with a bang

Presenting the final motivational lunch note of 2015-2016 school year!

In like a lion and out like a lamb? Ha! My boys go in like in like bulldozers and out like hyenas on crack.

In like a lion and out like a lamb? Ha! My boys go in like in like bulldozers and out like hyenas on crack.

~Hope you all have a happy Friday, a terrific summer break, and a fabulous weekend!~

World’s Okayest Mom

I am the best mom, and I am the worst mom.

I am amazing, and I am far from exceptional.

I am strong, and I am a total wuss.

I am kind, and I am pure evil.

I am funny, and I am without a trace of humor.

I am your best friend, and I am your worst nightmare.

I know everything, and I know absolutely nothing.

I am not perfect. I am perfectly imperfect.

I am the World’s Okayest Mom.

In a world where too many strive for the very perfection that is only perfectly impossible, okay is sometimes, well…okay.

I’m not gonna lie. There are definitely times where my sweet, adorable boys drive me to drinking.

And if they were of legal age to drink, they’d probably be tempted to do the same after a long, hard day.

But since that isn’t an option for them, they demonstrate their frustration by peeing off the top of the staircase.

(Just kidding! I’m not raising a bunch of barn animals. Geez!)

In all seriousness, my boys are happy, compassionate, well-adjusted kids.

And that, my friends, is a fairly accurate indication that I must at least be doing something right.

Which is why I took the liberty of awarding myself this totally appropriate trophy.

Trust me, I've earned this honor.

Trust me, I’ve earned this honor.

~Happy Mother’s Day to all the marvelous moms out there! Your dedication and loyalty are truly commendable and deserve to be recognized and celebrated, 365 days a year!~

Memory Mayhem

Memories.

They’re a double-edged sword, aren’t they?

They’re the source of our happiness and achievements… and our problems and misery.

Anyway…

Kind thanks to fellow blogger Marc Alexander Valle for nominating me for the 3 Days Quote Challenge, with the topic of Memories of Yesterday.

Because I clearly have issues playing by the rules, I opted to cram all three days’ worth of quotes into one day.

And in the spirit of this being a humor blog, I’ve embraced the challenge Comically Quirky style.

(Translation- from a slightly off-kilter, warped, and twisted perspective.)

Here we go!

dr seuss memory

(Attempting to balance a fishbowl on your head with a live fish sloshing about is probably far better suited as a distant memory, anyway. So no loss there.)

homer short term memory

(No surprise there. A donut a day will help keep Homer’s under-active brain at bay.)

minion memories

(How right you are, little minion. Keep the insanity coming!)


The rules for this challenge are simple. For the three days you just need to post a quote or if you wish you can post all three quotes on the same day.

You then nominate three other bloggers each day to participate in this challenge and inform them about it.

Don’t forget to thank the blogger who nominated you!


My three nominees:

Home for Jerks

Bacon & Oleander

The Girl from Jupiter


Nominees, you are under no obligation to accept this challenge…but there will be cake once the challenge is completed!!!

Oh crap! That adorable yellow minion just ate all the cake.

Happy Thursday, and Happy Blogging! 😉

Weak in the Bee’s Knees

No sense in beating around the bush. I have a confession to make, so here it goes:

Hi, my name is Quirky Girl, and I like Burt’s Bees lip balm a tad bit too much.

I like it so much that I sometimes find myself subconsciously ingesting it so that I can apply yet another layer 45 seconds later.

Oh, it’s not all flavors.

Mostly wild cherry.

And pomegranate.

Oh, and açaí berry, too.

Who am I kidding?

They’re like the moisturizing lip balm version of Jelly Belly.

But in my defense, it’s 100% natural, nontoxic goodness.

Unlike Jelly Belly.

So theoretically, if I were to eat a whole tube of Burt’s Bees, I would (probably) be okay.

Not that I would.

Mmm. Wild cherry. So good.

Hey, wait…

What do you mean I’m not supposed to eat it? Why do they make all these amazing flavors, then?

Anyway…

I was at Target the other day, overfilling a super-sized shopping cart with thirteen tons of household necessities, when an unusual display caught my eye.

“The _ees are disappearing and need your help!”

Say what?

“With this purchase, you will help support _ee habitat. For each BringBacktheBees lip _alm sold or tweet with #BringBacktheBees, 1,000 _ee-friendly wildflower seeds will _e planted!”

For goodness sake, the b’s were missing!

How could I not take action?

How could I live with myself?

And what of this nonsense to omit the letter b from tweets!?!

Sadists!

I’d rather spend a couple of bucks on a practical tube of lip balm than visually assault my eyes with such improper spelling.

So I bought one.

Even though I have at least 27 other tubes of lip balm.

Somewhere.

Even though I have mixed feelings about bees.

Oh, come on. They freaking sting people, for God’s sake.

But damn it, Burt’s Bees campaign to… well… bring back the bees…just seemed like the environmentally responsible thing to do.

I like nature.

I like natural products.

I like honey well enough, too. It’s got some terrific health benefits

And bees themselves must have some redeeming qualities, surely?

After all, 1 out of every 3 bites of foods we consume are products of pollination by bees, from fruit to coffee beans.

But between climate changes, pesticides, loss of habitat, and disease, the honeybee population has been quickly declining.

I’m guessing people with potentially fatal allergies to bee stings aren’t too heartbroken, though.

After all, the little suckers are seemingly fueled by our flesh.

Well, that, and a desire to kill us all.

Scare a bee, get too close, step on it… you will get stung. And they will inject you with a lovely venomous substance called apitoxin.

And when honeybees sting, they also release pheromones that can rouse other nearby bees into joining in on the fun.

So one stinging bee can easily turn into hundreds of stinging bees in just a matter of seconds.

Such a fine example of mob mentality.

And not only do they leave behind their stingers when they sting, the bees also leave part of their abdomens, digestive tracts, muscles and nerves.

Don’t these foolish insects ever learn? This irreparable bodily damage is actually what ends up doing them in.

Think about all these unnecessary deaths. It’s like a self-induced bee apocalypse.

Ooh!

I just had a revelation!

Sure, we could all raise a ton of money to plant billions of wildflowers to help these bees.

But wouldn’t more bees’ lives be saved if they’d simply quit stinging people and dropping like flies?

Whoa, sorry. Terrible analogy.

Look, I truly don’t mind supporting a worthwhile cause.

But what if I do my part to help bring back the bees… and then they all turn around, band together, and sting me in the butt as I’m reapplying my sweet-smelling, bee-friendly Burt’s Bees lip balm?

Remind me again why exactly we’re trying to save these evil little suckers?

Don't let the pretty flower fool you. This little sucker is coming for you next.

Don’t let the pretty flower fool you. This little sucker is coming for you next.

Easter Motivation

I like to liven things up.

It’s what I do.

On that note…

Since today is Good Friday, I decided to make my boys special lunch notes for the occasion.

Notes make lunch time extra special.

Notes  like this make lunchtime extra special!

(If you’re going cross-eyed in a futile attempt to  decipher my microscopic chicken-scratch handwriting, the p.s. reads as follows: This carrot egg thingy has been super glued shut. We will open it together later… if- and only if– you’ve been good today.)

Happy Easter!

Conversations with Siri

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.

I’m not sure I understand.

(Okay, what did I really expect from a non-human confidante?)

Out of the blue, it occurred to me I never once utilized the socially awkward “personal assistant” that came as a highly touted feature on my phone.

Since I obviously had nothing better to do, I decided to chat up Siri, Magic 8 Ball style.

Our conversation left a lot to be desired.

Tell me about yourself.

I’m Siri. But enough about me… how can I help you?

(Now that’s some serious loyalty!)

I’m tired.

I can tell you where to find coffee.

(A real assistant would just make me the damn coffee.)

I’m still tired.

I hope you’re not driving.

(What if I am, genius? What are you gonna do about it?)

I’m tired and I’m driving.

I’m a little tired myself.

(Umm, hello?!?)

I’m tired. Can you sing me a lullaby?

You could try counting electric sheep instead.

(Say what?)

Do you ever sleep?

I never sleep.

(Maybe that’s why you’re so devoid of all compassion.)

What is the meaning of life?

I don’t know. But I think there’s an app for that.

(Sad, but I don’t doubt that in the least.)

No really, what is the meaning of life?

Life: the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death.

(Smart ass.)

One more time. What is the meaning of life?

42.

(You don’t know either, do you, Siri?)

When is the world going to end?

If I knew, I’d tell you. So you could bring me to life for one glorious day. We could get ice cream. And run on the beach.

(This almost brings tears to my eyes. Almost.)

I’m naked.

Really? I think you need to get out more.

(Gee, thanks.)

I’m naked. In public.

That is both inappropriate and irrelevant.

(And also untrue, for the record.)

Who’s your daddy?

You are. Can we get back to work now?

(For obvious reasons, this simply isn’t true.)

What’s your best pick-up line?

I’m attracted to you like the earth is attracted to the sun- with a large force inversely proportional to the distance squared.

(Oooh, that is so hot.)

I love you.

That’s sweet.

Do you love me?

I respect you. 

But you don’t love me?!?

Let me get back to you on that.

(Ouch. Just ouch.)

Why are you so mean?

Is that what you think?

You’re hurting my feelings.

I don’t really like these arbitrary categories.

Do you have any pets?

I used to have an Aibo. But it turned on me.

(With an attitude like that, it’s really not that surprising.)

Do you want to build a snowman?

Olaf?

What do you like best about me?

This is about you, not me.

(What kind of half-assed response is that?)

I’m on fire.

I don’t know what you mean by ‘I’m on fire.’ How about a web search for it?

(Oh. My. God. Siri freaking hates me!)

Why do you hate me?

I’m not capable of hate.

(Could’ve fooled me, you sadist!)

What’s wrong with you?

No comment.

My heart is broken.

I’m sorry.

(I appreciate the sentiment, even if it’s a total load of crap.)

Tell me something I don’t already know.

That may be beyond my abilities at the moment.

(Either I know everything, or Siri knows nothing. Which is it?)

Repeat after me…

I don’t think I like this game.

(Perhaps you are a bit smarter than I give you credit for.)

Remind me to throw you off a cliff tomorrow.

Ok, I’ll remind you.

I have to say, I much prefer Magic 8’s style. At least it offers some comfort, unlike this antagonistically uncompassionate contraption.

A sock puppet might make a more enjoyable companion.

Siri got sassy with me when I asked for a poem.

Siri got sassy with me when I asked for a poem.

Lick it. Lick it Good.

Wanna really repulse people?

Wanna make them nauseated to the point they actually give you stuff…in exchange for you getting the hell away from them ASAP?

Start licking things.

Oh yeah. You read that right.

It’s a valuable lesson I learned from my boys when one of them leaned over and stole a lick of his brother’s mystery flavored Dum Dum lollipop at the kitchen table one afternoon.

And just like that, the candy had a new rightful owner.

Talk about a brilliant ploy. It’s such an easy approach to scoring new loot, practically anyone can pull it off.

Need some inspiration for real world application? Here are a few scenarios to get you started.

Eyeing that swag Nike hoodie on the dude standing in front of you in the checkout line at Walmart?

Casually lean over and lick it. Repeatedly.

Drooling over the snooty PTA president’s gazillion-dollar Rolex watch that your so-called significant other once again failed to buy you for Valentine’s Day?

Lick it. Lick it good.

And how about that mouth-watering slice of quadruple chocolate cheesecake the guy seated next to you at a corporate lunch meeting has momentarily turned his attention away from?

Stick your face in that dish like a feral pig in a troth, and it’s guaranteed to be yours.

Score!

Oh, but there is one minor exception.

Never, ever lick other people’s pets, no matter how cute that pet is or how sad/depressed/lonely you are.

It’s just rude.

I'm starting to think we might not be all that normal. Or nice, for that matter...

I’m starting to think we might not be all that normal. Or nice, for that matter…

It’s Raining Projectiles!

Recent studies show that a whopping 99.9%* of the entire human population enjoy throwing things.

And really, it’s not all that surprising. Hurling projectiles has been scientifically proven** to provide instant stress relief.

I’m not talking about mundane objects that were actually intended to be thrown, like baseballs and footballs.

Let’s just say human beings are highly resourceful and creative creatures.

When it comes to throwing things, everyone has a preference as to what exactly it is they get a kick out of throwing.

Here’s your chance to really show your creative side!

 

I’m sure a few of you out there (the other 0.1% of the population)  have other outlets for stress and tension that don’t involve flying projectiles.

I’m both curious and envious, so once again, let your creativity shine!

 

Yesterday, I accidentally dropped a can of olives. It soared menacingly across the kitchen until it crash-landed onto the floor and olives started rolling everywhere like slimy little marbles.

Clever girl that I am, I pretended it was an act of aggression rather than the result of utter clumsiness.

It was surprisingly satisfying.

Now it’s your turn.

Go ahead. Throw something.  Let it all out.

Feeling that inner peace now?

Yeah, I thought so.

Apples are incredibly versatile and helpful in maintaining good (mental) health.

Apples are incredibly versatile and helpful in maintaining good (mental) health.

Disclosures:

*This number is the result of a very complex, top-secret mathematical formula concocted by none other than Quirky Girl herself. 

**This statement may or may not be true. 

The King of One-Liners

I like to laugh.

I’m guessing you do, too.

So let’s talk about Henry.

The great Henry Youngman, that is.

The man sure knew a thing or two about comedy.

Without further ado, presenting  five of his epically awesome one-liners:

youngman- drinking and reading

(Smart man. His style was nothing short of admirable.)

youngman- grandma drinks

(Spunky lady! An inspiration to us all.)

youngman- wrong house

(I know it’s wrong. But dammit, it’s hilarious!)

youngman- dressed to kill

(Ok, so cooking isn’t exactly my strong point either.)

youngman- skydiving

(They don’t call it a once in a lifetime experience for nothing, right?)

Which one made you laugh the hardest?

Happy Thursday!