Be forewarned

that if you eat fresh beets, you WILL believe you're bleeding internally.

Blog that

"I'm listening to NPR because at least they'll talk to me."

I hope this blog post is everything you dreamt it would be, t-yay

Rodeo Monkies

"I wonder how you ever get into this business."
"The trainer was probably like, 'What else am I gonna do with all these tiny chaps?'"

The sound your butt makes.

I imagine they would make me do the same thing for my album cover.

"Just cover up as much of your face as possible starting with the chin area."

A peaceful, easy feeling.

I'm more of a people person than I sometimes think.
Only specific people, favorite people, but still.
- b.a.b.

We just won't tell him.

"Two shirtless guys in the parking lot!"
       "Ooooo."

"Is that...Dan?"

"Uh yeah that's Dan and Jorge.  Those are my bosses."

that ain't right

One time I watched a video of a male seahorse giving birth. Why? Well, the picture showed all these little seahorses just swimming around and it looked SOooo cute! But, man, was it rough. The poor bastard shot like 1,000 babies out of what I can only guess was his stomach? and then he grabbed on to some seaweed and shot out more and then more and more. And then he just kind of laid at the bottom of the ocean, like, Life is no longer worth living. Yeesh. Do yourself a favor and do not watch the video.

The Great Stupa

This thing is the house of buddha, located in the mts of Fort Collins. We went in to the quiet prayer sanctuary, and between BAB's growling stomach and her mom's swishing pants, I could barely hold in my laughter and had to step outside. Plus, the big buddha statue was a little creepy. I like the fatty version better than the manlady.

David Bruton: America's favorite Broncos football player

Around Monday, May 23 I came across an article on Yahoo! telling a tale of one young football star who was spending his off season substitute teaching in his home state of Ohio teaching social studies.

What a super awesome role model.

And a super awesome way to get all teared up at work. 

R-o-k.

Oh yeah; the 'c' is silent.

Wow.

Did you know that you're supposed to use your sit-bones to support the majority of your weight when you're riding a bike? Well, for the past 20 yrs, neither did Brittany's nor mine own cooter.

I work with a Real-Life Debbie Downer

"Aww, these notebooks are made by the blind in Arkansas."
         "They're probably lying.  Either way, factory jobs are terrible."

"Mmmmm, quinoa."
     "Sad story about quinoa, it used to be grown and eaten by the        indigenous people of Peru.  But the prices got so high that they sell all the harvest and eat junk food instead."


are you karate kidding me?!

Balloon for a baby

"This balloon smells like weed."
"Really? Strange."
"Well, it's been in the drawer where I stash my pipes. I like to smoke a little sometimes."
"Ha! Someday when he grows up and people are smoking pot, he's going to be like, 'I smell balloons...'"

I thought Lutherans were supposed to be chill

If you post something on your church billboard,

I don't think it should

1) Sound like something Bart Simpson would have written

2) Be an uninviting threat

3) Be a fake quote from God.

Sheesh. 

Estes Park Family Reunion

I crashed BAB's family reunion this weekend. How did I fit into the family? As Brittany's wife, of course. She even opened my salad dressing packet for me. And then we dunked her 3 yr old neice under water (she asked us to!) and pissed her off, most definitely. Close your mouth under water, silly. And then we thought about taking a hike but somehow we ended up at the brewery, drinking beer, talking about stuff. And you know when we have beer and talk about stuff we end up talking about Jay and Jeff and how much we love them and then our eyes get all misty as we look off into the distance for a moment. And then we start laughing about some thing or another.

"How was work, Girly?"

As heard: How was work? Girly?



"It was good.  No, not too girly.  There's 2 girls and 2 guys there so it's pretty even I guess."

I try not to have more than 3 Slurpees in 1 week

7 / 7 / 11

"It's 7/11, that means it's free Slurpee day!"

"I'll bring my wallet just in case it's like 'free donut day' a.k.a donate some monies for a day-old donut."

arrival at destination: 7/11 on Horsetooth & Shields

"Uhhh it's 7/7, not 7/11.  Crap."

It's in mah belly.

I was halfway through my apple when I was all, 

"Where's the sticker?"

This picture always makes me smile.

Poor little cowboy. 

Driving past a Hooter's on a hot day

"Oh geez."
"What?"

"Didn't you see them all sunbathing?"
"Who?"
"The Hooter's girls."
"What!? Where!?"
"They were all just laying out on the tables on the deck."
"Wwwhat?! ALL of them? HOW MANY WERE THERE?!"
"Alright, take it easy."

4 Square

While playing some semi-legit 4 square this 4th of July with a bunch of nerds, I couldn't help but have flashbacks to the blacktops of the 5th grade school playground where we used to play some pretty intense games. Back in a time when all the dickweed boys let you know you weren't the prettiest girl in the square by never taking it easy on you, doing more cherry bombs than was necessary. And you're like, "I GET IT! You want to feel my friend's bra, not mine! You don't dig this Winnie the Pooh t-shirt! I just want to PLAY!" So, it came full circle because I didn't take that shit this time around - I was there to dominate. And, I wasn't even wearing a bra.

You're Gonna Have a Bad Time

Warning from Aunt Maggie, "This game is really hard and nobody had fun playing last time.  But you're smart so I'm sure you can show us how to do it."


2 Frustrating Hours Later:
  "It's not your family, Video Clue sucks, I quit, I don't care who wins."

We love you, America.

Happy 4th of July! Here's hoping you don't blow your arm off! And if you do, I hope you're man enough to just get a hook.

I've stopped having the nightmare

where it's the last day of school and I've forgotten to write a final for my students, and they get livid with me. I had that dream literally every night for 3 weeks. Sucky. But now I am able to reflect on my experience for a moment and remember this:

Scene: Having just barreled through their grubby mitts, I stand out in the hall with my foot stopping the door.  The bell is about to ring and my snot-nosed class is in the room, unaware that I slipped out.
Student: [yells through window] Ms. N! Are you locked out?!
Me: [shake my head]
Student: ... Are we LOCKED IN!?!?!
Me: [nod my head]
Student: You guys! She locked us in here!! 

Which was followed by mild panic and some pounding of the fists. Then the bell rings and I release them, as I am legally obliged to do.

Do I feel any regret? Let me just say this: It was the most peaceful 10 seconds I ever had at that wasteland.