How to stalk Indiana Jones in the parking lot and miserably fail

There is a jeep that parks outside my work with four-wheel drive and knobby tires. I always imagined Indiana Jones driving that jeep with wearing a leather hat and hanging his whip out an open window (and by that, I mean an ACTUAL whip. Get your pants back on Ding Dong Joe).

Today, I saw the jeep pull into a parking space. The man exiting the jeep looked, disappointingly, nothing like Indiana Jones. He wasn’t rugged, with tan skin weathered from the sun and wind. He was thin and pale. He had glasses and a suit. He had no leather hat. He looked, in fact, like he had never been outdoors a day in his life. I walked into the building reflecting on how disillusioned I was with the driver of this jeep.

Then… I started wondering if people are disappointed with me arriving in my Honda Civic. Who drives a Honda Civic, anyway? Maybe they are expecting a polite Asian man, and here I come out of the car all sarcastic and glaring. I feel like my car is a good fit for me though. I’m a terrible driver because I am essentially bad at aiming at things. This car is small enough to limit the damage of my carelessness and bad aim. Every time I miss something by inches, I am grateful not to be driving some mammoth SUV.

Then… I started thinking about those bumper stickers people put on their cars about their other car being something else. Wait, let me see if I can find an example.

othercarporsche
This seems close enough.

Then… I started thinking about how you could apply this to t-shirts. This is what I came up with…

armani
Get it? Because, you are trying to impress people, but really you make them think that you only have two shirts. HILARIOUS… right?

Fine. Give me a break. It’s Monday.

Oh… what? It’s Friday? Damn.

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Are you currently dying? The answer may surprise you.

I have had several near death experiences in the past week. Although, it turns out they were false alarms and that I wasn’t even close to death. I might be close to death right now, I suppose, but not in any of the ways that I was predicting. If I die immediately, it will be from something I never saw coming. I will now detail all my near death experiences in case you are nearing death in the same way. Or, not nearing death, whatever the case may be.

Near Death Experience Number One: Immediate and Total Kidney Failure

My back hurt the other day, and so naturally I assumed that something was wrong with both my kidneys because I read somewhere that they are located near your lower back and sometimes people just think they have back pain when both their kidneys are actually failing. So, the safe thing to assume when you have a pain in your lower back is that both your kidneys are failing. Since the pain was only on one side, I thought I might have a chance of still having one kidney, but I don’t like to take unnecessary chances, so I decided to go to the doctor. Of course, I hate dealing with people, talking to people, and having people touch areas where my kidneys may or may not be failing, so by ‘go to the doctor’ I mean ‘type symptoms into Google.’

My search results on Google told me that since the pain was dull and corresponded with movement, rather than being constant and sharp, that it was probably a muscle hurting rather than my kidneys getting ready to bail on me. Also, I wasn’t running a fever. I forgot what the other symptoms were. After I confirmed my kidneys weren’t falling out, the back pain kind of went away on its own.

Near Death Experience Number Two: Slow and Fatal Heart Attack

Then, as if the kidney failure issue wasn’t enough to deal with… yesterday afternoon… my hand goes numb. Not my entire hand, but the side of it. Well, not the entire side of it, more like the edge. The edge of my left hand and the side of my left pinkie went numb.

My first step in diagnosing any serious medical condition is to wait and see if it goes away. The next step is to jump to the worst case scenario. By midnight last night, the numbness had not gone away. Therefore, I assumed I was having a heart attack and I began contemplating whether I would die immediately or become a comatose vegetable.

Other serious medical questions came to mind in the middle of the night:  Are heart attacks immediate? Is this one already done, or looming? Maybe this is one of those slow heart attacks. Are those a thing? Should I take a baby aspirin? Sometimes they tell you to take a baby aspirin. Maybe it is a stroke. I wonder if I will lose use of my left side if this is a stroke. Which side do you lose use of where you can’t speak? Can I still speak? There is no one to talk to right now. Maybe I should call someone to see if I can still speak.

Finally, I made myself look up symptoms on Google. I was a bit worried that Google would tell me something was seriously wrong,  I really don’t want to rush around at midnight to an emergency room announcing that my hand feels funny. That would be the worst. If I have to go get medical help for something, I want to be bleeding profusely. I want it to be freaking obvious that I need medical attention, not walking around with my hand being half numb.

The Google results told me that since I am right handed and the numbness was in my left pinkie/ring finger area, and since I constantly sit at my desk like a slouchy person, that I was NOT having a heart attack. Apparently there is some sort of nerve in your arm that runs amuck if you sit around leaning on your elbow too much. I don’t know much about that because I pretty much lost interest once I found out I wasn’t having a heart attack.

Now that I have recovered from my serious health issues, I can begin contemplating the fact that I might be a hypochondriac. If not that, I have had this cough for over a week that I am pretty sure is the bird flu. Maybe I’ll type my symptoms into Google.

For Further Research:

Cure your heart attack with simple arm exercises and by not being slouchy:

http://www.ehow.com/how_5199086_relieve-fingers-left-hand-right.html
Okay, fine… they call it ulnar nerve compression… heart attack is more dramatic and much easier to spell.

How to Volunteer at a Food Bank

Volunteering at a food bank is a great way to touch a lot of food and meet celebrities. Of course, if the celebrities are there, they are going to get to touch all high profile food, like the tomato juice. Don’t expect to get  your hands on any tomato juice.

I was in charge of this milk. ALL of it!

Because I am NOT a celebrity, all I got to touch was boxes of milk that don’t need to be refrigerated. Did you have ANY idea that there is milk that comes in boxes? I must live a terribly sheltered life, because apparently this is a thing.

Jesse Metcalfe holding tomato juice

This is a photo of Jesse Metcalfe holding tomato juice. At first, I didn’t recognize him because they said he was currently on the remake of Dallas. But then, someone told me that he was the guy who mowed the lawns on Desperate Housewives. That is when it all clicked together. Instead of holding tomato juice, imagine this person shirtless with a lawn mower. I met a CELEBRITY! Yea, me!

Look… this is Jesse Metcalfe’s tomato juice!

Of course, by ‘meet’ a celebrity, what I mean is touch the tomato juice of a celebrity with my boxes of non-refrigerated milk. But that STILL COUNTS!

Here I am packing milk into boxes and taking pictures at the same time. I’m a multi-tasker.

Non refrigerated milk is a lot harder to pack than it looks like. See how streamlined these boxes are? This is an arduous task. Plus, everyone got mad at me when I kept falling behind because I stopped to take pictures. I have a BLOG TO WRITE, PEOPLE!

Random picture I felt compelled to take. I’m an ARTIST. I have VISION.

Another advantage of volunteering at a food bank is that you can get pictures of celebrities holding random food items that you can then send to The Bloggess.

I have ALWAYS wanted to send a picture of a celebrity holding a random item to The Bloggess, because in return, you get a picture of… Wil Wheaton Collating Paper. Which I did, and which made  me FURIOUSLY HAPPY.

So… here are some helpful t-shirts for those of you who will be volunteering at food banks in the near future…

I can’t guarantee this shirt will get you near the tomato juice, but it’s worth a shot.

This will help explain why you are continually taking pictures of random things while you are supposed to be packing milk into boxes.

Also… one last picture. I would hate to feel like I held up the line taking all these pictures for no reason.

The final box of food. It’s important to get all the pictures of food while you have the chance.

Running out of True

Amy (Lucy’s Football) has written a book of poems which I suggest you do NOT read unless you want to find yourself crying because the moon leaves the sun notes to buy milk. Reading Amy’s book has left me feeling poetic and sentimental. So today, rather than producing a sarcastic tirade, I will write ramblings based on Amy’s poems. This is okay, however. Ken said once that I know how to forget my blog voice for a post or two and alienate my readers. I’m pretty sure he meant it as a compliment.

Because this post is dedicated to (and partially lifted from) Amy’s book, Out of True, those of you who DID NOT read the book will be totally confused. That is what you get for not buying and reading a perfectly good book.

Actually, I’m not even sticking to the same poem. I picked random parts from the book and tossed them in with absolutely no forethought or logic. Therefore those of you that DID read the book will be totally confused. That is what you get for buying and reading books.

At any rate… here you go… happy alienation…

Running out of True

There is magic somewhere in the hush of an early pink morning, but we cycle through days never noticing. We hurry underneath the magic of wispy clouds moving across the sky, lit by early morning sun. Children will be late for school if we look at clouds. Somewhere there is magic in five quiet saints frozen in time, but the world would surely crumble if we took the time to listen to their hushed voices. Frozen saints talk very slow, most likely.

Frozen saints are way too quiet to get my attention. The radio blasts loud in my car as it races along its path to work. Always heading to some other place to be, there is limited time available to notice the edge of a woman’s skirt dragging in the grass.

The moon and the sun keep spinning, just missing each other in their long distance romance. Their dance of unfulfilled yearning is what marks my days. Just as the moon leaves its note for the sun, I wake up to an alarm, check the weather on my iPhone, and drop a frozen waffle in a toaster. Somewhere, there are angels scraping stars from their shoes. They must be far from here. I look up to see scattered stars, but there is only a clock ticking down the minutes until I am late and failing. Must move faster.

One day, when the time seems right, Amy will give back her icy saints. Shivering, one of them will raise a hand to speak. Most likely we will rush right past them, eager to embrace the futility of another day.

Or… maybe things will be different. Amy will catch the angels dancing on ink and box up the scattered stars from their shoes. The moon and sun will find a way to be together and get a nice house in the suburbs. The saints will warm their hands in the spring sun and tell their secrets. Your heart can quit lurching forward. You can rest.

Other people posting random things about Amy’s work:

travelling with Out of True as it was intended – LAHIKMAJOE

Magpie heart – Heinakroon.com

That is what you get for writing a book, Amy.

A Dollar Make Me Holler

What happened to TV while I wasn’t paying attention?

This all started when the person I share a cubicle with at work asked me, “Do you know Bon Qui Qui?” To which I said, “I dunno. Does she work here?” This happens a lot actually. Because I am not watching YouTube, apparently I have no idea what is going on in the world. So, he directs me to this rather amusing video and we all have a nice laugh.

Bon Qui Qui at King Burger
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZkdcYlOn5M

I particularly like the part how the dude at the end states he is no longer under house arrest. I don’t know about you, but that is how I pick my men.

So, later on in the week, this same individual asks if I have seen, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. “No,” I innocently reply. So… a brief Google search reveals what people are watching on television these days:

Here is the TLC Promo Trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11T59SdqguQ

That was only the trailer. If you look a little below this paragraph, you will notice another YouTube link. This will fully explain the whole disturbing thing. DON’T click it yet! Before you proceed, I must warn you that once you watch this on YouTube, you can never un-see it. Never. Remember that time  you were reading heinakroon.com and suddenly people’s torsos were burning up and you were looking at a bunch of legs sitting there? This is EXACTLY like that. Only with a strange little child that can’t enunciate. And no one spontaneously catches on fire.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=CGM_ANQsQ74
“A dollar make me holler, BABY.” Really? You are going to train your kid to say that and then send her out on stage with a halter top and a pair of daisy dukes? Also, is a dollar even a respectful price point for hollering? You’d think it would be more than that.

Worst of all, this is on TLC…. The LEARNING Channel! At least, I think TLC still stands for The Learning Channel. What am I supposed to be learning from all of this? Granted, it is almost a reference guide for turning a six-year-old into a stripper, but I don’t think this is anything I need to know. I don’t even have a little girl, much less one that I want to train to be a stripper. I’m sure I could start some sort of outreach program or something, but I really don’t have time for all that. So, let’s just say I DON’T want to start a stripper training outreach program for six-year olds. Thank you anyway, TLC. Maybe next time you can have a show about how to get started with the meth labs, because THAT is something worth looking into.

Image

A shirt for all the self-respecting six-year-olds. I tried to make it into a halter top but the words wouldn’t fit.

New Zealand Snack Food

Today I will critique the snack foods of New Zealand. I know you are thinking that I have little or no qualifications to be a snack food critic, much less a New Zealand snack food critic. However, just because I have no food critiquing experience, have never been to New Zealand, and have done absolutely no research on this topic whatsoever, does not mean I can’t be an expert.

All you have to do to be an expert is talk a lot and eventually someone will believe something you say. For example, Amy (AKA Lucy’s Football), once went on a tour with this tour guide who knew absolutely NOTHING about the history from the historical tour. If you ever find yourself in this situation, all you have to do is ask rhetorical questions about miniscule beds and strange wallpaper. Done.

So… who is ready for an elaborate critique of New Zealand snack food?*

*Don’t answer that, Amy. It is RHETORICAL.

First, I would like to thank @sleepsinhats for the generous donation of New Zealand snack foods which she mailed from New Zealand to my house. Unfortunately, I forgot that everyone on Twitter is an assassin. Wait… is EVERYONE on Twitter an assassin, or just @lahikmajoe? I need to ask Amy to clarify that with her dad.

The selection of treats that will most likely cause my untimely demise.

Now that @sleepsinhats has my address, she can drop by and kill me at any time. However, she will have to come all the way from New Zealand first. And, she will also need a place to stay, so she will probably ask if she can crash on my sofa before she kills me, and then I will be totally on to her. So, if anyone else would like to send me snack food from foreign places and then kill me, that would be great. Just make sure I get the snack food items first. I would hate to be killed for no reason.

Wait… what was it I supposed to be writing here? –death by assassin? -strange wallpaper? oh… yeah… New Zealand snack food.

First, let’s start with the peanut butter chocolate. This stuff is to die for. If you have to be killed for snacks, this one is the way to go… literally the creamiest chocolate thing I have ever had. If you are having New Zealand assassins mail you snacks anyway, I highly recommend the peanut butter chocolate.

Next, chocolate covered kiwi. I would classify this treat as green goo encased in a chocolate shell. They remind me of chocolate covered cherries, except with kiwi. I assume there is actually kiwi in there someplace. I had three of these, and it was difficult to locate the kiwi. I may have to step up the research.

The next snack food item is the chicken chips. This was actually the main point of the entire endeavor as I needed strange chip bags to display at work. What else do people do at work besides collect chip bags?

Notice the bag states the chips are chicken flavored, but they are clearly made of penguin. Look… the penguin is RIGHT THERE on the potato chip. Of course, he is a lot less killed and ground up in the picture than he is while settling in on your crisps, but you get the point.

I tried the chicken chips, and they aren’t bad. They actually taste a bit like you are eating potato chips and chicken soup all at the same time. I wonder if people could eat these chips if they have a cold. It might be easier than having an entire bowl of chicken soup. You could actually market these chips in the cold and flu aisle, right next to the TheraFlu and the echinacea. Of course, you would have to take the penguin off. No one ever heard of eating penguin soup when you are under the weather.

As a special thanks to @sleepsinhats for the New Zealand snack food items, I am creating this special t-shirt. You can wear it when you come to visit so I will recognize you.

On further reflection, if you are on Twitter at all you should be wearing this t-shirt. We all might be assassins. Don’t think you aren’t just because you haven’t assassinated anyone yet. It is only Tuesday.

Just eat the cupcakes

There is a person in the office who has a doctor’s appointment today. They are worried that the doctor may be upset at them because they ate two chocolate cupcakes yesterday. Someone asked this person if they were going to confess to the doctor about consumption of the cupcakes. Confess… really?

This entire conversation astounds me. I am going to email my doctor right this minute to inform him of the fact that last night I had two glasses of wine and an obscenely large bowl of spaghetti. Then, I will scoff openly at triglycerides. Then, I will tell him that if there were two cupcakes in front of me, that I would eat those cupcakes RIGHT NOW. I hope this doesn’t make him cry. Maybe I shouldn’t email my doctor and make him cry so early in the morning. I feel bad about it now. Perhaps I should compose the email and sent it later on.

Anyone have a doctor’s appointment today? Here is your t-shirt.