my room is stinky

it smells like garlic in here and meatloaf and some other stenches and not in a good way.  i lit a vanilla candle so it smells like vanilla flavored garlic meatloaf stink.  what a life.


take that

I recently went under scrutiny for possibly having bed bugs.  After the Orkin man inspected the seams of my mattress and said "I don't see any signs, but never say never."  I understand that I never had nor ever will have bed bugs.  So all of you who were creeped out to be near me, know this, I just have extremely, extremely, creepy dry skin.

No bed bugs here.

i change my vote

In a recent debate with a 12 year old, I argued that Zaq Effron was cuter than Chance Crawford. On this date, April 26, 2009, I'd like it to go on record that I redact my claim on the basis that:
A) I was under the impression that Chance Crawford was someone else of lesser refinement
B) his name is actually Chace Crawford. not Chance.

The real Chance Crawford lives in Idaho and attends BYU Idaho and sports a red leatherjacket:

He's nice enough, but not really. Not nice enough to be included in the debate.


go back to your shanties

[poor dad was just trying to watch tv]

Sister: "Golf?"
Dad: "It's the Masters."
Mom: "Whatcha watchin? Golf?"
Dad: "It's The Masters."
Me: "Hey guys. Golf!?"
Dad: "It's not golf, it's The Masters!"

girls just don't get it, i guess.



It's a Nut Cruncher!

Why did the whole scene have to go down with two old guys listening and one little lady loudly saying inappropriate things?  Cupboard, you should think a little more about supplying us with goods that are family friendly to say and a little less about fine china for babies.

what the heck is that thing?


all that urine wasted on plain ol' Utah

The four courners ain’t the four corners. Many years ago Bab and I visited the fake four corners. If I had a time machine, I'd go back to the day we said, "Let's go to the four corners!" and I'd shake my head and say to us, "Don't be so lame."

The Firefly

When warming up for a vigorous exercise it's always a good idea to do something like firefeet to get your muscles in gear.  We put a fancy little spin on things by making it into a dance - the Firefly.  You hop around and gracefully move about.  The two guys waiting for the racquetball court can attest to Julie's Firefly skills.  


say it's the Best Blog in the World, or we'll eat your soul

we have acquired another follower.
she took the oath and passed the urine test.
the Great Leader will reward us for this.

i'm a person, not a seal, ok?

Leave it to Bab’s family to throw me to the lions. I told them NEVER to mention my adoration for a particular uncle to THE particular uncle, but I believe that through a series of hand gestures and devious winking, said uncle received the classified information this day. With all that talk about his “broken hip,” and his “inability to feel any pain,” I didn’t stand a chance in this game where my heart was merely a pawn to be forced to the line of scrimmage, then sacrificed. And what was with the prolonged, detailed descriptions (with exaggerated gestures) of his intensive stretching sessions with his sensei? Please. It reeked of conspiracy. It’s like they didn’t want me to eat my $15 worth of Italian buffet but instead were saying, “feast on this,” as they all watched me watching uncle who caught me looking on numerous occasions. Don’t even get me started on the extended embrace goodbye. You knew my weakness and you punched it repeatedly. Cruel, heartless hyenas.


"look alive, julie!"
"what were you doing?!"
"i was thinking."


I can't feel my feet.

I just ate a giant piece of Easter cake covered in frosting, it was delicious.  If you need me, I'll be on the couch, in a diabetic coma.

no children, that bunny isn't full of carrots

one time my cousins had these two rabbits that they never fed and then one day they went out to the cage and there was only one rabbit. an evil rabbit. that had eaten the less resourceful rabbit.
and my cousins were never allowed to get Easter bunnies from the state fair ever again.

the end.


my very own hagrid

I don’t know how many times I have to ask Julie to stop playing card games in shady joints where some dude in a hooded cloak bets a dragon egg.  She either needs to start losing those games or raise her own dragons.
Is it summer time yet?  Because I could really go for some watermelon.

put the Stakeout in the stocks!

we're staking out the Stakeout tonight. be warned to all who enter and exit the Stankout your face could find itself in an all out war with rotten turnips as we express our dislike for the Stinkout by hurtling the ripe contents of our fridge in protest. maybe next time the ol' bartender will check his attitude.

need sleepy

Just because somebody slept - quite literally - all weekend, often for 6-8 hour intervals, doesn't mean there's something wrong with that person. It means I'm tired. Also, just because you find me facedown in the backyard doesn't mean I'm dead. So quit poking me "Just to be sure."
Remember that one guy that was dead near the top of Everest and they knew he was dead because the sherpa had poked him in the EYE "just to be sure" but it turns out that the dude was alive afterall? Of course you remember because when you heard about it you were like, "I'd give anything to have a sherpa." Let that guy teach you a lesson: poking is an ineffective Dead Person Detector, so don't start rolling me into a hole and covering me with dirt if I appear unresponsive to a single prod. Be a good man and check for a pulse, common courtesy.


church is for sinners

dear Jesus,

I'm sorry that I wrote on my Sin-to-be-washed-away Rock:
"I want to be a wizard."

Church just brings out the worst in me.

But I still love you. And I hope you still love us.

ps. thank you for the cute guy who sat in front of us.


that's what she said.

brittany may have been right when she made me do a practice run. "if you can't do it here, then there's no way we're driving to niagara falls just so you can't do it there," she said.

...Dream Crusher.


step aside Old Yeller

i smell like puppy right now because i had a puppy sleeping on me all afternoon. it's like the best drug in the world, puppies. i think i'm addicted and there's no way you're taking me to rehab.
i tried to get my dad to admit he loves the puppy more than he loves human babies, but he wouldn't say it out loud.


what is, nerd?

Both she and Alex share a love for random facts as well as belittling people.
dear blog,

we're sorry we've neglected you. it's not your fault. it's just that things have been tough, bloggy. and we've got extra mouths to feed. no, blog, we didn't adopt - i'm talking about our own mouths. we've been really really hungry this winter. and then i had to go and watch The Happening, which was a big letdown. all that excitement and for what?! mark wahlberg - i LOVED you...loved... it's like Planet of the Apes all over again. then there was Cutler. we shall henceforth refer to him as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. anyways.

i'm writing to you, blog, because i want you to know that we're coming back. we're going to cuddle and play chuckle belly and watch reruns of The Cosby Show like it'll be outlawed tomorrow! we want you to know, blog, that we never really left. not in our hearts anyways.




Who knew 6 hours in the Glenwood sun would lead to severe burns?  Not these two suckers.

don't ever leave us

what will the world be like without Alex Trebek?

A lot less snooty, that's for sure.


get out

have fun being a BEAR,
ya dumb bastard.