Well. I have an announcement. Apparently I am hireable. No, more than that, because I do have a job right now. Apparently I can be trusted to lead a group of 17-24 year-olds… in the wilderness… with chainsaws. 

Actually, It’ll probably look more like this:

Seriously, though. It was probably the worst phone interview in the history of ever.

They must be desperate. But so am I, so I’ll take it. I get to move to Alaska for a few months. The only thing I put in my “five year plan” was to go to Alaska. And that was 4 years ago. 

 Assuming I get there without dying, I will feel accomplished.

(Actually, I am really really really excited and am no longer able to sleep because I keep thinking of all the stuff I need to do in the next 3 weeks).

Now I just gotta figure out how to keep drawing bad pictures for the internets while I am living out of a tent for 5 months…

I think there is something to this…

atsween:

The reason some women stay single …

(Source: youtube.com)

When ever you fill out personal information on any kind of job application, survey, or entrance questionaire, they will have a please select one option related to gender. 

why is male always first? shouldn’t at least some of these be alphabetical and have female first?

this is been a random rant for the day

Dear Large Condom Company,

Whenever I hear the phrase “Bare Skin Condom,” this is what I think:

And yes, all condom employees have facial hair.

mama says yes.

I went on an incredible adventure. I hiked, I hitch-hiked, and I avoided death all over the west coast!

And I will most definitely tell you about it…at another time. Actually, I will tell you about part of it now. I supposed I should do this in some sort of chrono-mo-logical order or something, but that is logical and I’m not about to start bringing reason into this post.

So I pull into my parents drive way and notice that no one was home. Awesome. Thanks parents, I’ve just been gone for 1.5 months. Your only daughter could have died or something, but yeah, go ahead and not welcome me home.

Anyway, I walk into the house annndddDDDDD!!!… nothing.

All starved for attention, I come up with a brilliant plan:

I know who loves me! The cat!

So I go look for the cat and find her curled up in her cat bed.

I go to pet her and she growls at me. I growl back at her. She hisses. Then I hiss.

She puts her ears back… I lack the physical ability to mimic this behavior so I pet her annoyingly and shout “I WIN!”

This is basically how our relationship goes. We love each other because we are kindred spirits. Kindred, bitchy spirits.

Then I remember that we have another animal in our house. A large mammal that sort of roams around when it isn’t in the garage whining (for no reason) like its being tortured, or sneaking around eatting poop out of the liter box.

Trevor is a special dog. I’m pretty certain he is a genius and could have done amazing things if he was paired with another family. Don’t get me wrong, we love him, but he was our first family dog, thus making him like a first-born child- a guinea pig. I think its either his brilliance or utter confusion that makes him have this goofy smile on his face 79% of the time.

But I digress. Its a known fact that dogs love people, especially when they’ve been gone a long time. Even that lion hugged those two guys in that youtube video to that sappy song (you know the one I’m talking about).

So I release him from doggy prision and it’s like rainbows and sunshine! He wagged his tail and ran around the couch and leapt into my arms!

…it was about that time that I noticed this girl scout was 8 stories tall and a crustacean from the Paleogenic era. Actually, it was about that time that I noticed a terrible, terrible smell…

      …and it seemed to be seeping out of the dog’s every being.

My parents went out of town for a week and dropped the dog off at the grandparent’s farm.

Apparently, amongst his runnings and skippings through fields, he met a skunk who was less than thrilled to meet him (unless  it was a dead skunk that he rolled in, I haven’t ruled that one out either).

My dad refused to touch the smelly creature, and so Trevor was just as attention starved as I was— and about as smelly as the forgotten hiking socks sealed in a plastic bag in the bottom of my pack that i would find about 2 weeks later. 

If this taught me anything, its that water on a skunk-sprayed dog makes the skunk smell 8 times worse. We just had to wait it out.

I won a day on a farm from a charity auction in this dress (by Debbie A.)

This is one of my favorite paintings

todayiwasinspired:

James Abbot McNeill Whistler (1838 - 1903); Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket (1874).

(via wikipedia)

Pearls before Swine by Stephan Pastis 11/28/2011

http://www.gocomics.com/pearlsbeforeswine/2011/11/28

I bit the bullet and got the Guarasil shot. So when the world comes to an end and all the people who have a “cancer vaccine” turn into mutant zombies, I guess I’ll just have to hope I’m special and immune. That way, I can hang out with Will Smith.

This makes me giggle, and apparently the woman holding the camera too. Found on http://tosh.comedycentral.com/blog/