sarcasm

Jarring Judicial Jitters

/ Quirky Girl / 45 Comments

Augh!!!

It’s the single-most dreaded piece of mail to ever plague humanity.

That’s right.

A jury duty summons.

So many ponderings raced through my brain.

But luckily, No Man’s Land offers an exemption for parents with kids under the age of 12.

Twelve?!?

Are you kidding me? 

Have you seen my kids in action?

While I’m fortunate that one of them is indeed still younger than 12, they’re both probably going to require constant and direct supervision for a long time.

Like, until they’re 30.

At the very least.

I can’t, in good faith, leave them unattended for prolonged periods of time to burn the house down or clear out all of the neighbors’ refrigerators.

Uh uh.

Yet, there are seemingly no provisions for a lack of remaining sanity, other than the requirement of having sound mind and good judgment.

But isn’t this all relative?

I mean, my own questionable judgment leaves me scratching my head at times.

But am I truly insane in the brain?

Or insane in the membrane?

Probably not, by any clinical definition.

(Sorry, Cypress Hill.)

I’ve been told some people actually enjoy jury duty.

This is difficult to fathom, but more power to those good citizens for carrying out their civic duty without complaint.

For me, though, I can think of a whole host of reasons for why I personally might not be a good fit once I no longer qualify for an exemption.

I’d probably start off by pretending I’m anti-everything-under-the-sun.

Do you believe in justice?

I don’t know. Maybe?

Are you a fan of leniency?

No.

Are you for the death penalty?

No.

Do you even like people?

Hell, no! 

Ah, so you’re an antisocial people-hater.

That’s right! But at least I’m an equal opportunity people-hater!

Alrighty then… consider yourself excused. Seriously, please go ahead and show yourself the door.

Okay, so this isn’t exactly true.

I am not a people-hater.

I do like (most) people well enough.

Along with peace, rainbows, butterflies, and all that good stuff.

Ooh, a butterfly!

Did I mention I have the attention span of a flea?

It’s true.

I can’t sit still for five minutes.

And my overactive, imaginative mind is also prone to wandering.

Big time.

Should I show them I’m a raging psychopath by pairing a badly painted on Joker-like smile with completely mismatched shoes and a pair of Depends over my pants?

Or start roaring like a stegosaurus?

Or make a show of entering the courtroom while head banging to Let the Bodies Hit the Floor?

Or better yet…

Sing a catchy duet with a scruffy stuffed teddy bear that’s perched on my shoulder.

And if that doesn’t work, I could claim that the stuffed animal is actually a service pet, then bring it into the courtroom and proceed to defiantly whisper garbled, jumbled nonsense to it throughout deliberations.

Oh, yeah!

Or why not employ serious Valley Girl talk?

Like, oh my god!

He, like, did what?

Like, oh my God!

Oh my God, oh my God!

That meany man, like, totally maybe, like, killed somebody, and stuff! 

Hmmm.

Act smart!

No, pretend to be stupid!

No, just act totally average!

Say what?

It’s all such conflicting advice.

Well, when in doubt, why not mix things up a bit?

No comprendo!

Me not be get it!

What is this ‘reasonable doubt’ and ‘guilt’ you be speaking of?

Me still don’t not get it!

Or why not break out in laughter at totally inappropriate moments?

Or demand to be exclusively assigned to incredibly bizarre cases?

Preferably one about a guy who stole a Blue Ribbon winning pot belly pig named Bacon and then really turned him into bacon.

Or a case with an old lady who ran over a farmer’s favorite cow when the cow stuck its head out of a fence and into traffic to eat greener grass.

Or what about the true story of an elderly gentleman in Kansas City who robbed a bank…

And then stuck around until the police arrived to inform the cops that he’d only robbed the bank because he couldn’t stand to spend another minute at home with his wife.

Must’ve really been a match made in heaven for a guy to decide he’d rather go to jail than be home with his own wife.

But unfortunately, it didn’t turn the way he’d hoped, because along with probation and community service, the guy was also sentenced to 6 months of home confinement.

Well, so much for that.

Oh, but I really shouldn’t worry so much.

After all, I have virtually no sense of direction, so it’s unlikely I’d ever find my way to the courthouse, anyway.

If I truly had to go, that is.

Although…

To be fair, escaping to jury duty when you’ve got wild and crazy kids might not be such a bad thing.

Hell, it might even be the next closest thing to a vacation

Especially if there are spinning chairs involved.

Wheeeeee!!!!

~Happy weekend and Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!~

As fun as this looks, why add to the mayhem? I think it'd be best for me to do everyone a favor and keep my hyperactive, overactive-brained self safely at home.

As fun as this looks, why add to the mayhem? I think it’d be best for me to do everyone a favor and keep my hyperactive, overactive-brained self safely at home.

Sensationally Sarcastic

/ Quirky Girl / 52 Comments

Did you just fall?

Pftt. Noooo! I attacked the floor.

Backwards?

What can I say? I’m talented like that.

Good ol’ sarcasm.

It’s an age-old art that’s near and dear to my heart.

Unfortunately, sarcasm is lost on some clueless people.

Bless their hearts.

Ha!

But seriously, sarcasm does have its virtues.

For instance, sarcastic people tend to be quite intelligent.

And they are skilled at abstract thinking.

And, of course, don’t forget the astoundingly high level of creativity that goes along with it.

Besides, being normal is just plain scary.

(Shudder!)

So let’s take a moment to celebrate this sadly misaligned quality, shall we?

(Words are so awesome! Who would’ve guessed that a simple combination of words paired with a witty undertone could be so satisfying?)

(Actually, I just so happen to be a sarcastically-fluent smartass.)

(Sadly, it doesn’t cover medically necessary shots of hard alcohol, either.)

(Sometimes I find myself taking a moment to reflect on the words that may or may not have just come out of my own mouth.)

(While I wouldn’t recommend actually doing this, don’t ever underestimate the power of the element of surprise.)

(Amen to that!)

(It’s a fine line, but I think it’s safe to say I haven’t personally crossed that threshold. Yet.)

(Not speaking from experience or anything, but I’d imagine there’s some truth to this.)

(This could cleverly be passed off as clumsiness, especially during a pretend fit of sneezes.)

(Yeah, so this is probably a wee bit messed up. But it is a fairly accurate assessment.)

(Quite possibly the most beautifully poetic backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard.)

(Exactly! Some people just express affection a bit differently, that’s all!)

(I realize this is a distinct possibility, but the gratification outweighs all else. It’s a chance I’m willing to take.)

(In that case, I’ll just stick with my new favorite catchphrase: “Go to Michigan!” On that note, there’s a special club especially for those of us who love sarcasm…)

(Hmmm. Oh well, it was worth a try, right?)

Gotta love humor with attitude.

After all, common sense is a flower that doesn’t grow in everyone’s garden.

It’s like that expression:

Silence is golden.

Duct tape is silver.

Now, if only more people were fluent in silence…

~Happy Friday,  friends! Hope you have a wonderful weekend!~

Go to Michigan!

/ Quirky Girl / 48 Comments

Go to Hell!

Evidently, this simple three-word phrase is heavily frowned upon in some places.

Especially in Bible Belt country.

And especially when used by a child.

In school.

(Gasp!)

How do I know this?

Well, from recent experience, of course.

I honestly don’t believe that is, by any stretch of the imagination, the worst thing a person could possibly say.

At the same time, I also don’t personally go around telling all my friends to go to hell…

Plenty of people struggle to speak a single, coherent sentence without the added flair of numerous, strategically placed curse words.

I am not one of those people.

Yes, I do occasionally use such words here on my blog for comedic impact.

But not in my everyday conversations.

And certainly not when speaking to my kids.

My child-free brother, on the other hand, ironically tends to pepper his speech so heavily with curse words that nobody even seems to notice anymore.

Including him.

Or my kids.

It’s like our brains have been trained to filter through to register only the important information.

In fact, I asked my sons whether they ever notice their uncle cursing.

After careful consideration, they both answered at once:

No!

But then my older one paused for a brief moment before correcting himself.

Well, there was that one time, on Easter.

One time?

And on Easter, of all days?

Seriously?

But that was more a question of curiosity, on my part.

Besides, my poor Easter-cursing brother lives too far away to be all that big of an influence.

If anything, YouTube is by far the bigger offender of the two.

It’s paradoxically helpful and a bad influence, all at once.

Damn it, YouTube!

But anyway…

This past Monday, I received a somber phone call from the assistant principal informing me that my little darling would be spending the entire day in in-school suspension for this uncharacteristic transgression.

I had to marvel at the severity of the consequence.

And, of course, I also had to question how that statement had even come about in the first place.

Oh, that!

Yeah.  

So-and-so said “hi!” to me in a weird voice.

So I told him to “go to hell”!

Right.

Because I can’t imagine any other plausible way to respond to such an appalling greeting.

And the best part?

That’s actually the kid’s real voice.

And, the child seemed to find this response humorous enough to laugh.

Geez.

The joys of middle school.

The struggle of trying to figure out who you are.

The struggle of trying to discover where you belong.

The struggle of simply trying to fit in.

This, evidently, is where the smartypants humor kicks in.

Who doesn’t love the class clown?

I know I’m a sucker for humor.

If someone makes me laugh, they’re my friend for life.

There’s no escaping my friendship.

Ever.

That’s pretty much all there is to it.

At any rate, I had to attend a conference at school the next morning.

And I had to put on real pants before going, because it seemed like it would probably be a good day to do so.

Perhaps I should’ve worn my World’s Okayest Mom shirt, too, but I didn’t think about it beforehand.

At least I didn’t burst out in laughter at any point during the meeting.

But I wonder if I should’ve pointed out that Hell is also a place in Michigan, and so perhaps my child was merely recommending a vacation idea…?

Or perhaps not.

Oh, well.

At least this makes for good writing material, right?

So…

If Hell is a place in Michigan…

Is it okay to tell someone to go to Michigan?

Sigh.

On a side note, maybe we really ought to go to Hell…

Hell, Michigan, that is.

Hey, you have to admit, it does sound rather intriguing…

~Happy weekend, everyone! Hope you all have a heavenly break from it all!~

Go to Hell! I mean, Michigan. Yeah. Go to Michigan!

Go to Hell! I mean, Michigan. Yeah. Go to Michigan!

Doubtful Dinosaur Musings

/ Quirky Girl / 37 Comments

The Temporal Bone is connected to the…

Tailbone?

Say what?!?

Dinosaurs are such an enigma.

Perhaps it’s because their bones are like a ten billion piece jigsaw puzzle.

Think about it.

With no helpful assembly instructions for guidance, each type of dinosaur is estimated to have roughly 200 bones.

And with hundreds of different types of dinosaurs…

That leaves a disturbing amount of room for error.

After all, who’s to say we’ve been accurately assembling those prehistoric bones?

When dinosaur fossils are discovered, they tend to be badly damaged, crushed, or warped from the weight of dirt and rocks.

So they may be pieced together incorrectly.

Or the “final” result may actually be incomplete.

In fact, scientists themselves have been known to harbor doubt when attempting to piece those suckers back together.

With strange dinosaur names like Yamaceratops, Irritator, Gasosaurus, and Drinker…

It’s almost like paleontologists are trying a little too hard to divert the confusion.

Which brings us to the Bone Wars, between American paleontologists Edward Drinker Cope and Othniel Charles Marsh.

So fierce was their rivalry in the heated pursuit of discovering and naming new dinosaurs that there was no shortage of bullying, bribery, and flat-out careless errors.

Case in point:

When Cope presented his fossil of a marine reptile called Elasmosaurus, it was discovered that the vertebrae were assembled backward.

The head and tail were also transposed.

So much for any attempt at accurate representation.

Marsh, for his part, was trying to piece together an Apatosaurus.

But it was missing a skull.

So he knowingly used the head of another dinosaur to complete the skeleton.

And the moral of the story?

If it the bones can be crammed together in a way that may or may not properly fit…

Hey, that’s good enough!

When someone is determined or frustrated enough, it’s gotta be so tempting to cram a puzzle piece someplace it doesn’t quite belong.

Especially after spending far too much time puzzling over it.

Take the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex, for instance.

Take a really good look at it.

T Rex’s disproportionately minuscule arms look like a better fit for a smaller dinosaur, like Triceratops.

No wonder those creatures look so angry.

With stubby little arms and a tail that drags ten feet behind on the ground like a ball and chain, what’s there to be happy about?

There’s also been debate over the years as to whether the Brontosaurus ever actually existed, either.

Who knows?

Anything is possible.

All I know is, if I were to dig in my backyard and unearth dinosaur bones, I’d let my kids try their luck at assembling a new creature.

And then I’d let them name it.

So far, we have several promising contenders:

  • Buttasaurus
  • Boogerraptor
  • Dieceratops
  • Stinkyheadamimus
  • Thunderthighapus
  • Dinkybrainadon
  • Atrociousaurus

The possibilities are endless!

Which brings me to another point:

You almost have to wonder what human bones haphazardly pieced together by the next creatures on earth in fifty million years might look like.

Now, that ought to be interesting.

Nah, there’s no way those weird things with five wiggly digits could possibly belong up there by those goofy funnel-looking thingys…

Oh, well.

Just stick that crap on top that freakishly small skull…

And voilà!

We’ll call it the Peabrainasaurus!

~Happy Friday, everyone! Hope you have a terrific weekend!~

The dinosaur depicted here is most likely the approximate result of assembling bones together, puzzle-style.

The dinosaur depicted here is most likely the approximate result of assembling bones together, puzzle-style.

Blisteringly Ballistic

/ Quirky Girl / 28 Comments

Swish!

What could be more delightful than a bone-chillingly dreary day?

Why, experiencing the joy of nature on such a lovely day, of course!

Or perhaps more specifically…

Playing basketball outside in freezing temperatures!

With a child whose blatant disregard for my well-being has not gone unnoticed by yours truly.

Did I mention it was astonishingly windy, too?

When there’s finally the teeniest ray of sun poking through the foreboding clouds right before the sun sets, it’s obviously time to wander outside into the frigid air.

Nevermind the fact that it’s chilly enough to guarantee Frosty the Snowman at least one more day of puddle-free existence.

Oh, and thank you, Daylight Savings Time.

Thank you so much.

Your highly anticipated return has provided this wonderful extra hour of daylight.

Which wouldn’t normally be such a bad thing…

Except after a long day, when I’d like nothing more than to convince the kids that the dark sky means it’s clearly time for bed.

Somebody, please tell me why it’s so difficult to force a child to go outside and play on a gorgeous sunny day?

Wouldn’t that be far less painful for everyone?

I guess this must beat shower time.

That’s got to be it.

So there we were.

You wanna go?

You wanna piece of me?

Come at me!

Where you at?

Chop, chop!

Come on!

Show me what you got!

I’ve got frostbite.

That’s what I’ve got.

Wanna see that?

My child seems genuinely intrigued.

So I stuck my hand up his shirt.

My freezing cold, bluish-purple hands.

Ah, warmth!

Gotta keep swimming, swimming…

Or maybe it’s running, running…

Or dribbling, dribbling…

Let me tell ya, cold is a very powerful motivator.

I shot far more hoops than usual that day.

The magic modus operandi?

Bouncing and hopping around like a maniac in a desperate attempt to generate my own heat before succumbing to imminent hypothermia.

Which, evidently, is not a concern for crazy children.

Their sheer insanity keeps them sufficiently warm.

Between hook shots and free throws…

Along with no shortage of illegal elbows, tickles, and fouls…

It was a surprisingly invigorating outing.

Nothing but net.

And frostbite.

Swoosh!

~Happy St. Patrick’s Day, friends! Hope you’re all enjoying a day filled with fun and shenanigans. And corned beef and Guinness, if you’re into that sort of thing. Have a fantastic weekend!~

Nothin' but net! Well, somewhere under those icicles...

Nothin’ but net! Well, somewhere under those icicles…

Spring Break Stupor

/ Quirky Girl / 52 Comments

Spring is almost here!

Sure, it’s still technically winter.

But it’s already Spring Break.

Ummm…

Yay?

The house looks like a tornado zipped through it.

The laundry is piling up to the ceiling.

And being the unofficial official referee of this crazy clan is taking its toll on me.

Mommy needs a drink.

If this is a preview of what summer holds, I may be tempted to run away with the circus.

ASAP.

What’s that?

Joining the circus is no longer an option?

Damn you, Ringling Bros!

Damn you for not keeping up with the times and taking away that last glimmer of hope.

Sigh.

Don’t get me wrong.

I love Spring Break.

No, actually…

I love some parts of Spring Break.

No homework.

No teacher emails.

No phone calls from the principal.

I’m pretty well convinced we are on the school’s speed dial system.

So yeah, I’m a fan of any type of school-related break.

Besides, sleeping in is always a nice luxury.

Even if it is only until 7am.

Hey, it’s progress.

Anyway…

On Day One, both boys managed to land themselves in time out without any electronic privileges.

But then they behaved well enough later in the week for us to actually get out a few times.

And so I found myself going places I’d rather not go.

Like Chuck E Cheese.

Home of the Yuck E Cheese pizza.

That inedibly nasty excuse for pizza always sits in my stomach like a sinking rock.

What’s in that crap, anyway?

On second thought, I’d rather not know.

And then there’s Dave and Buster’s.

Two hours and a zillion dollars later, we walked out of there with our prize:

A Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em game that we could have purchased for $19.99 at any big box store.

But if we stayed home, the whole eating around the clock cycle of fun would’ve continued, à la Hungry, Hungry Kiddos.

Let me tell ya, that gets old really fast.

Between the demands and lack of gratitude from at least one child at any given time, it’s been a most rewarding week.

Get back to school already, will ya?

Spring has not quite sprung…

Daylight savings is about to begin…

And we’re running out of food and sanity.

Wait.

Break’s almost over?

Already?

Noooooo!!!

~Happy Friday, everyone! If you’ve also had the pleasure of being on “break” with kids this week, I hope your sanity is still intact. Have a wonderful weekend!~

Spring Break is fun! Spring Break is awesome! Spring Break is...ugh, never mind.

Spring Break is fun! Spring Break is awesome! Spring Break is…ugh, never mind.

Glamourless Grammar Galore

/ Quirky Girl / 86 Comments

There, they’re, their.

March 4th is National Grammar Day!

I know you’re all as excited as I am!

Just think – a  whole day dedicated to proper use of grammar!

Grammar Day was created in 2008 by Martha Brockenbrough, founder of the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar, to promote awareness and understanding of proper grammar.

For the logophiles among us, the Global Language Monitor estimates the number of words in the English language to be approximately 1,025,109.

That’s a lot of words one could possibly mess up.

That’s right.

A lot.

Not alot.

They’re two separate words.

Two!!!

In honor of National Grammar Day, let’s have some fun with grammar, shall we?

grammar23

(I rest my case.)

grammar9

(I completely understand. I feel equally as passionate about this mix-up.)

grammar47

(Hahaha! Get it? Oh, never mind…)

grammar22

(I’m sorry… and you’re welcome.)

grammar48

(People who use commas properly are statistically less likely to be raging psychopaths. Need I say more?)

grammar6

(Off too [sic] funny we go!)

grammar28

(Never underestimate the powerful effect of using proper grammar!)

grammar42

(Sure, it’s a cheap shot, but it can be highly effective. Give it a try!)

grammar4

(Proof that it helps tremendously to be able to distinguish between homophones.)

grammar25

(The difference here may be subtle. On second thought, no. It’s glaringly obvious. Get your words straight if you want to avoid becoming dinner!)

grammar46

(Irony at its absolute finest.)

grammar29

(Likewise, “I’m sorry I hate you” could also benefit from a properly placed comma…)

grammar14

(Yoda is the only creature permitted to speak in such a grammatically disturbing manner. This is due solely to his unparalleled wisdom.)

grammar45

(Grammar is good! Grammar is your friend! Please, for the love of God, use grammar!)

Homophones seem to cause confusion for a surprisingly large chunk of the population.

For instance:

its/it’s, to/too/two, there/their/they’re, than/then, where/were, whose/who’s, apart/a part

Yes, these sets of words do sound identical.

That’s because they’re homophones…

Not because they’re words that share the same meaning and can be used interchangeably at one’s discretion.

Sorry, but it just doesn’t work that way.

Oh, and let’s talk about real words put together to form imaginary phrases.

Would of, should of, could of.

Uh…

Hello?!?

These phrases don’t make any sense!

Do you know why?

It’s because they don’t exist!

At least, not in the world of proper grammar.

(Would’ve, should’ve, and could’ve are the contractions for would have, should have, and could have.)

Now go impress someone special with your inoffensively impeccable grammar skills!

~Happy Friday, friends! And Happy National Grammar Day, for those of you who value proper grammar as much as I do. Have a phenomenal weekend!~

Sardonically Stressed

/ Quirky Girl / 43 Comments

Stress.

It’s an unfortunate and undesirable side-effect of simply being alive.

Some days, it’s lemons, lemons, and more lemons.

For everyone overwhelmed with stress lately, take heart.

Here’s proof that there’s always humor, even in times of stress:

stress18

(In all fairness, it should be noted that murder is rarely doctor-prescribed.)

stress24

(Are you kidding me? Way to burst my bubble!)

stress34

(I’d be hesitant to attempt this. I mean, what if I cram one down someone’s throat, then Karma steps in and makes them spit it up…straight into my eyeball?)

stress15

(Did you know it takes 45 minutes of meditation to equal the effects of a single satisfying glass of wine? Okay, fine. I just made that up.)

stress6

(A sure sign of mastering ki breathing! Or having taken up drinking…)

stress22

(Is being eaten alive really preferable to a little stress? My guess is probably not.)

stress1

(Finally! A refreshingly drug-free solution that’s both highly effective and easy to use. What’s not to love?)

stress9

(As Henry Kissinger once said, “There cannot be a stressful crisis next week. My schedule is already full.”)

stress8

(Sure, it helps reduce stress…unless you’re prone to perfectionistic, OCD-type tendencies. In which case, coloring can actually increase your stress levels.)

stress31

(Overall, pretty good advice from a dog. But maybe just stick with the walk away part and forget about peeing all over the place. It’s just not classy.)

stress33

(Food for thought, right? Speaking of which…)

stress26

(This might be stating the obvious, but here goes: You should never be your own food source. Never. No matter how stressed you may be, this is a horrible solution.)

stress29

(I’m stressed just thinking about how true this statement is.)

stress38

(This one has become my personal life motto. It makes me happy.)

Throwing things can be great stress relief.

No, really. It’s true!

And if you need some creative ideas for what to do with all those lemons life has been tossing your way, I’ve got some excellent suggestions.

Go on, give it a try!

Feel better now?

Excellent.

Stress?

What stress?

Ain’t nobody got time for that nonsense.

~Happy Friday, friends! Hope your weekend is relaxing, enjoyable, and stress-free. And if it’s not, I hope you always find a way to make lemonade. Or a lemon martini…~

Mortifying Modus Operandi

/ Quirky Girl / 67 Comments

Don’t embarrass me!

Um, helllooo!?!

I’m not the one sitting there, scratching my crotch at the table during breakfast.

Is it my fault your school requested that parents join their child in class to help guide them through the increasingly intricate course selection process, complete with 4-year plans and endorsements?

What kind of monster do you think I am?

And what kind of horrifying feats do you think I’ll manage to pull off in the 60 minutes I’m there, anyway?

Attempt to spoon-feed you your lunch?

Or show up in fishnet stockings and skanky heels?

Or worse yet, come crashing into your classroom on roller skates…in my pajamas?

Hashtag whatever.

Or perhaps I might discuss puberty/body odor/your latest crush loudly in front of all your classmates?

Or do some sort of ridiculous robot dance while singing a cringe-worthy Justin Bieber song at the top of my lungs?

Or lick your messy desk clean?

Or…

Maybe I’ll just wait for the perfect opportunity to declare:

You got an F on that test? An F?!? That’s it. Mama gonna go all gangsta on yo ass!

Right.

As fun as these scenarios might appear in my mind…

I can’t even.

As a natural introvert, I can assure you I will not be going out of my way to even talk to anyone, let alone cause chaos.

And as a self-respecting member of society, I don’t typically speak like that.

Ever.

Well, except maybe when I’m hangry.

I also wouldn’t purposely embarrass my kids, but ish happens.

Besides, if anything mortifying were to happen, consider it payback for all those unfortunate incidents where I wished for nothing more than the mercy of getting sucked into a black hole.

So just remember this:

I could be worse.

I could be much, much worse.

After all, I’m a badass black belt, dirt bike-riding, humor-writing Mom.

I’m cool AF.

Yaasss, I’m totally killin’ it.

So don’t be salty, bruh!

(Is that a thing?)

~Happy Friday! Thanks for stopping by and slinging some serious slang with me today. Have an amazing weekend!~

It's tough being a teenager. And an adult. Hell, life is rough for everyone.

It’s tough being a teenager. And an adult. Hell, life is rough for everyone.

Carrots, Cheetos, and Kangaroos

/ Quirky Girl / 43 Comments

Woo hoo! It’s Friday!

Oh, alright.

For those of you harboring superstitions, let’s forget about the fact that today is actually Friday the 13th.

Let’s focus instead on the fact that Valentine’s Day is just over a month away!

That’s right, it’s time to start spreading the love!

And in the spirit of Comically Quirky, I plan to accomplish this in the quirkiest way possible:

By combining the joy of poetry with my disturbingly creative motivational lunch note-writing awesomeness, of course!

Now, I don’t honestly know what I would do with a kangaroo.

Or a canoe, kazoo, or cockatoo.

But it’s the principle of the matter at stake here.

Trading something orange for something orange is cool by me…if that something happens to actually be an orange.

Not something artificially dyed a radioactive shade of orange with an assortment of health-compromising, life-shortening capabilities.

Geez, kid!

For that major lapse of judgment, you’ll be getting extra carrots in your lunch next week.

And you’d better eat them.

ALL of them.

On second thought, maybe I ought to start preparing for that kangaroo…

~Happy Friday the 13th! Hope you all have a terrific weekend!~