I’ve had too much coffee. Consider yourself warned, because I’m just going to be throwing a bunch of random crap your way with this post…There’s a chance none of it will make sense but sometimes THAT’S HOW I ROLL.

So I went to the gas station today to pick up some smokes (how I let myself get down to only two left without a backup I don’t even know) and realized something weird.

I parked, turned my car off and got halfway to the door before noticing I didn’t have my phone with me. I had to turn around to get it because, you know, what if the place gets robbed? I could be the hero that calls 911 while hiding under a powdered donuts display. I realized that I do this often…I won’t go into a place unless I have my phone with me, specifically because there’s a minuscule chance that I could get stuck in a hostage situation and HOLY CRAP I would need to be able to tweet…er…call for help.

So that got me thinking…I always create crazy situations in my head, then devise exit strategies. When I lived with my parents in their two-story cabin I would lie awake in bed coming up with ways to get the hell out of the house if someone broke in. At one point, there was a scaffolding on our deck because my dad was doing some repairs to our upstairs bathroom window… Those nights were the best because I had the PERFECT plan: I would creep out of my room and crawl into the bathroom, carefully shutting the door behind me. I would then open the window, pop the screen out and climb down the scaffolding. Since this was before the days of cell phones, I figured I could run to our neighbor’s house and call the police.

Then they finally took the scaffolding down and I was stuck trying to figure out how many bathroom towels I would need to make a rope and if they would hold my weight.


Speaking of my mom and dad’s house…

I was over there last night chatting with my mom and watching TV when Glee came on. I’ve never watched it before but everyone I know seems to think it’s the greatest show EVER.


As a former show choir member, I was offended. During choir class and practice, we didn’t sit around and talk about our feelings and we CERTAINLY weren’t encouraged to sing a song about them for the whole class. Dude, we were there to work. I can remember running through the same show over and over and over and over until I was practicing choreography in my sleep. Our director didn’t give a rat’s ass if a couple of girls suddenly developed confusing feelings for one another. She DID care that we sang our part perfectly, knew the choreography and OMG FACIALS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SMILE!!!

Honestly, I hated that show. HATED it.

What else?


I’m going to a bar tonight for… Are you ready for this?… All you can eat pig testicles night.


I’ve never tried them and the whole idea grosses me out, but because I’m a brave soul I’ve agreed to at least taste one.

*insert nut jokes here*

Should be interesting.