Fun fact: Thomas Jefferson first started writing "in the Year of Our Lord" way back in the day.
Fun fact: I briefly heard that on The Daily Show the other night and may or may not have skewed it to fit this post.
Fun fact: I have no idea why I decided to bring any of that up. I'm sorry you had to read all this.
I've been pondering the idea of starting another blog. I'd keep this one up, for obvious reasons. Someone out there in the Interwebs is remotely interested in my ancedotes about wanting to faceplant in a pile of mashed potatoes that Barefoot Contessa lovingly made on the Food Network or punching annoy heavy breathers on treadmills. [A/N: What is up with that? I can hear you huffing and puffing as you walk in. It sounds like an overweight walrus with asthma is pounding away on the treadmill. If you sound like a goose with tuberculosis, maybe you should quit the gym and check yourself into an out-patient facility. You sound like you're going to drop dead within miliseconds.]
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| I want to go here and get attacked by what I can only imagine is Perez Hilton in a swimsuit. |
1) A hilarious, witty blog title.
2) A wicked, dirty sense of humor.
3) Artistic talent.
Okay...I have #2 down. I could probably think really hard about a title that is creative enough to attract attention. #3...shit. If you asked me to draw you a stick figure, I'd probably stab you in the eye with a pencil to save you the horror of trying to depict what I had scribbled haphazardly on a piece of paper.
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| 17 hours and 48 trees worth of paper later, VOILA! MY MASTERPIECE*! *I actually Google Imaged "hand-drawn stick figures" |
Alright, I should probably fill you in on my fun-filled swim yesterday morning. It was filled with fun. Especially when I watched this woman swim so hard for a single lap, that she actually had to float in the water to catch her breath. I don't know why she was swimming so hard; maybe she was pretending that a shark was chasing her or something. I mean, this woman was fucking BOOKING it. After 4 "laps", she took a water break and floated for a bit before slapping the water with such vigor, I thought dolphins and orcas were breaching.
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| Anyone hearing Michael Jackson singing in their head while viewing this image? ...yea, me neither... |
The types of people who venture to the pool amuse me. On some occasions, we have those who I've classified in the "serious" swimmer category. I am not one of these people. They come wearing racing suits and can put on a swimcap in one smooth motion. I, on the otherhand, feel like a very drunk girl struggling to put a condom on her very drunken boyfriend's penis. I'm snapping myself in the eye with it, catch my hair painfully and finally get it settled, only for it to fly off my head like a deflated balloon. Needless to say, you can tell that I'm an amateur.
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| Not pictured: me getting my hand stuck in it on the top of my head, snapping it painfully against my forehead, putting it on sideways. |
These "serious" swimmers jump into the pool and by the time they resurface, they're halfway down the lane, swimming with the ease of a harbor seal.
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| I just want to drown it because I'm angry it's THAT adorable. |
Let's compare them to me, shall we? I sit on the edge of the pool and dangle my legs in like I'm at a resort. Sliding in with the grace of maybe a rock being pushed over a ledge, I hop around with my arms extended high over my head and hiss at the cold temperature of the water. I'd like to say that I swim with the grace of a harbor seal, but I more or less flop around like a fish on a dock, right after being released from a hook.
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| Help...me... |
These so-called "serious" swimmers can finish their 8,000 laps in 20 minutes whereas I'm on lap 5 in the first 10 minutes of my set.
We then have the "I'm only doing this to lose weight/smell like chlorine for the rest of the day" swimmers. This is where I fall. If there is a smell in the world I wish I could smell every day, it'd be chlorine. God, I love that smell. I love the smell of a pool area, especially a public pool. I have no idea why I love it so much. It's kind of like Play-Doh and Crayola crayons. You just feel better after taking a whiff. I also love smelling my arms later in the day [A/N: I honestly can say I have never written a sentence like that before. I'm so fucking weird.] and smelling pool. I can sit in class and sniff the entire time. In fact, I've done that before in my Poli Sci class. Makes the class go by faster.
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| How blatantly obvious can you get, falling asleep like that? Nothing says "we value your class, professor" than a lecture hall full of sleeping students. |
My favorite person, next to Snorkel Man, is Flower Swim Cap Lady. I kid you not, she wears one of these:
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| "I hate my life." |
She sits on the edge of the pool for about 10 minutes, before sliding in halfway and chills for another 5 minutes. She finally gets in the water and then stretches for 15 minutes and then lazily starts swimming. I forgot to mention that she has long hair and doesn't tuck it up into her swim cap, it floats along behind her. Letting your hair go into the water certainly defeats the purpose of a FUCKING SWIM CAP.
There are also the occasional geriatics who obviously are in possession of one natural joint in their body, everything else technically makes them half-Terminator.
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| "I'll be back...around 3:45. I don't want to miss dinner. And by dinner, I mean pudding and prune juice." |
As for the title of this post, my friends and I have discovered that we've been waking up angry at each other for no apparent reason. Well...there is a reason. The dreams we've been having usually involves one of us and that dream version of said friend always PISSES us off. My roommate Brooke had a dream about me the other night and spent the next day ignoring me. I asked her why she wasn't talking to me and she looked at me and said: "You pissed me off so bad in my dream, I can't even stand to be around you right now."
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| "Ahh...fuck. I'm so mad right now. I can't believe that bitch didn't let me ride along with her and Daniel Tosh on the tour around campus."* *That is the legit reason as to why Brooke was upset with me the other day. |
I can't think of anything else to rant about, so I'm going to leave you with this image:
