Today....
My feud with all pizza-service-related-people began anew. For those of you who don't know(which can't honestly be many at this point) let's skip back ten months and visit the scene of my first accident (or second if you could that thing with the round-a-bout...) where I ran a blinky red light and hit a pizza person. The pizza person (I could not confidently determine if it was a girl or a boy) was very, very upset that I had jostled his/her pepperonis.
Apparently, some of his or her pizza delivering brethren up here in Muncie have gotten wind of my pepperoni jostling. Today, one of them tried to run me over. I was innocently jay-walking (or jay-riding) my bike across the street when a pizza-jerk almost nailed me. Stupid pizza-jerk. I fell off my bike and possibly broke my one non-broken big toe.
I broke the other one in an unfortunate stair-falling-down incident earlier this week. Anyway.
I think that pizza people everywhere may be out to get me. Perhaps there is a pizza mafia network all over central Indiana...we must act against them quickly lest they spread to (gasp) upper Kentucky! They get to Kentucky...we're all going down. Kentucky Fried Chicken is toast people...TOAST. And without KFC to fry them, chicken populations with soon quadruple. We'll all be buried in chickens.
So, I think the pizza mafia presents a significant problem. Maybe. Okay, probably not.
But still...my toes both hurt.
Danielle Out
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
2 Days Until College: Hilarious Whales
Today...
I am not going to talk about today. I am going to talk about yesterday because yesterday was faaar more interesting. So, yesterday, I went to the hospital and while I was there, they gave me morphine.
Morphine RULES.
It made me very, very, very friendly towards all the members of the hospital staff. I swear, I tried to make friends with every doctor, nurse and janitor there. I also called or texted half of my contacts and tried to make make friends with all of them. The problem is, I'm already friends with most, if not all, of my contacts. So it was a little strange. Also, I was was a little strange. One example of this is a conversation I had with my sister. I said "I wish that you were here so you could give me a hug and make me feel better." She, being a rather nice person, catered to my weirdness and said, "I would give you five hugs." In my super-morphined state, I was astonished Five hugs? That was madness! So I said, "But that's SO MANY HUGS!"
So...that was my generally state of mind yesterday. I also thought that an episode of Phineas and Ferb was the most brilliant work of television I had ever seen. I also laughed hysterically at a documentary on humpbacked whales. Apparently, humpbacked whales are pretty funny. Apparently.
And moving on from that...the little Wayne concert was yesterday. And guess what they do when they find a drunk, disorderly and under-aged person at a little Wayne concert? That's right...they send them to the hospital! So, that was pretty funny. One girl, she couldn't have been more than 15, ran away from the doctors and attempted to hide in the corner of my room. Of course, I tried to make friends with her too.
No offense to little Wayne, but all of his fans I saw yesterday were screeching, projectile vomiting, biting people and just generally acting like Megan Fox in Jennifer's Body (which is a fabulous movie, by the way. If you haven't seen it...then make it a priority.) But, seriously, come on, Little Wayne! You've got to be able to find classier people to give a concert for!
Poor Little Wayne.
But, by the time I got checked out...I looked like a little Wayne fan myself. I'd cried off my (considerable amount of) eyeliner so I looked like someone had punched me in both eyes and my hair...I can't even begin to describe it. Little Wayne would be proud.
Danielle Out.
PS. (Mary Figueroa begged to be mentioned in a blog. So...here you are marmalade.)
I am not going to talk about today. I am going to talk about yesterday because yesterday was faaar more interesting. So, yesterday, I went to the hospital and while I was there, they gave me morphine.
Morphine RULES.
It made me very, very, very friendly towards all the members of the hospital staff. I swear, I tried to make friends with every doctor, nurse and janitor there. I also called or texted half of my contacts and tried to make make friends with all of them. The problem is, I'm already friends with most, if not all, of my contacts. So it was a little strange. Also, I was was a little strange. One example of this is a conversation I had with my sister. I said "I wish that you were here so you could give me a hug and make me feel better." She, being a rather nice person, catered to my weirdness and said, "I would give you five hugs." In my super-morphined state, I was astonished Five hugs? That was madness! So I said, "But that's SO MANY HUGS!"
So...that was my generally state of mind yesterday. I also thought that an episode of Phineas and Ferb was the most brilliant work of television I had ever seen. I also laughed hysterically at a documentary on humpbacked whales. Apparently, humpbacked whales are pretty funny. Apparently.
And moving on from that...the little Wayne concert was yesterday. And guess what they do when they find a drunk, disorderly and under-aged person at a little Wayne concert? That's right...they send them to the hospital! So, that was pretty funny. One girl, she couldn't have been more than 15, ran away from the doctors and attempted to hide in the corner of my room. Of course, I tried to make friends with her too.
No offense to little Wayne, but all of his fans I saw yesterday were screeching, projectile vomiting, biting people and just generally acting like Megan Fox in Jennifer's Body (which is a fabulous movie, by the way. If you haven't seen it...then make it a priority.) But, seriously, come on, Little Wayne! You've got to be able to find classier people to give a concert for!
Poor Little Wayne.
But, by the time I got checked out...I looked like a little Wayne fan myself. I'd cried off my (considerable amount of) eyeliner so I looked like someone had punched me in both eyes and my hair...I can't even begin to describe it. Little Wayne would be proud.
Danielle Out.
PS. (Mary Figueroa begged to be mentioned in a blog. So...here you are marmalade.)
Friday, August 5, 2011
12 Days Until College: Fictional Adulterers
Today...
began at IHOP. At midnight. Does midnight count as part of today, blog-wise? Eh, whatever. But, I had IHOP at midnight today/yesterday. At the time it seemed like a fabulous idea. Now, I doubt that the idea was so fabulous. I ate all of my food and most of the other people's food as well...so unless pancakes now burn calories...I ate enough to feed a small African village. Perhaps two small African villages. Depends what sort of African villages we're talking about, honestly.
Anyhow...moving on from third-world-countries onto more first-world issues...I bought my books for college today. And those suckers cleared out my bank account pretty darn quick. Apparently, in addition to charging enough in tuition to build a castle for the African villagers, Ball-stupid-State needs to make sure that my accumulated debt lasts at least into my mid-fifties by jacking up book prices nine billion percent.
If I live to be fifty.
Which is probably a more likely possibility if I stop eating IHOP at midnight.
Huh.
And also, they're BOOKS for crying out loud. I probably won't even, like, use them. I am functionally illiterate. Also, Google Chrome just auto-corrected my incorrect spelling of the world illiterate into 'adulterer.' Seriously Google Chrome...get your mind out of the biblical gutter. I am in no way a functional adulterer. Lord, it just corrected functional in 'fictional'. You're making this too easy, Google Chrome. Fictional adulterers? REALLY?
And now I want pancakes. Then again, when don't I want pancakes? When I'm a fictional adulterer, that's when. Which isn't now...or ever. Riiight? (Google Chrome just corrected that into, not right, but righto. Apparently, righto is probably what I was trying to spell. Probably.)
Wow, that was something...I picked on African villagers, didn't I? African villager mockery is the last resort of the imaginatively bankrupt, if you didn't know. Which is something that I am.
I am writing about pancakes after all. And college. And fictional adulterers.
Groundbreaking.
Danielle out.
began at IHOP. At midnight. Does midnight count as part of today, blog-wise? Eh, whatever. But, I had IHOP at midnight today/yesterday. At the time it seemed like a fabulous idea. Now, I doubt that the idea was so fabulous. I ate all of my food and most of the other people's food as well...so unless pancakes now burn calories...I ate enough to feed a small African village. Perhaps two small African villages. Depends what sort of African villages we're talking about, honestly.
Anyhow...moving on from third-world-countries onto more first-world issues...I bought my books for college today. And those suckers cleared out my bank account pretty darn quick. Apparently, in addition to charging enough in tuition to build a castle for the African villagers, Ball-stupid-State needs to make sure that my accumulated debt lasts at least into my mid-fifties by jacking up book prices nine billion percent.
If I live to be fifty.
Which is probably a more likely possibility if I stop eating IHOP at midnight.
Huh.
And also, they're BOOKS for crying out loud. I probably won't even, like, use them. I am functionally illiterate. Also, Google Chrome just auto-corrected my incorrect spelling of the world illiterate into 'adulterer.' Seriously Google Chrome...get your mind out of the biblical gutter. I am in no way a functional adulterer. Lord, it just corrected functional in 'fictional'. You're making this too easy, Google Chrome. Fictional adulterers? REALLY?
And now I want pancakes. Then again, when don't I want pancakes? When I'm a fictional adulterer, that's when. Which isn't now...or ever. Riiight? (Google Chrome just corrected that into, not right, but righto. Apparently, righto is probably what I was trying to spell. Probably.)
Wow, that was something...I picked on African villagers, didn't I? African villager mockery is the last resort of the imaginatively bankrupt, if you didn't know. Which is something that I am.
I am writing about pancakes after all. And college. And fictional adulterers.
Groundbreaking.
Danielle out.
Monday, August 1, 2011
16 Days Until College: Land Sharks
Today...
is day 2 of SHARK WEEK!!! I love shark week. I love shark week to an unhealthy degree. I have watched at the very least five hours of shark-related programing today. Psh...of course I have friends...psh. Whatever. You don't know my life. Anyway...my extreme love of all things shark week was born from my INTENSE FEAR of sharks. Seriously. I got, like, twenty-two minutes into Jaws before I flipped out.
I'm aware that most people who are deathly afraid of sharks do not spend the entirety of Shark Week on a couch watching Shark Week. But, unlike many people who have shark-related phobias, I live in a land-locked state. And have always lived in a land-locked state. So HA sharks. Try and bite me now. That is basically my mentality behind watching Shark Week. Mostly, it consists of me laughing because sharks cannot come get me on my couch.
When I was a child, however, my dad convinced me and my brother that there was an exotic breed of shark called Land Sharks. He said that Land Sharks come and knock on your door and ask for orange soda and oreo cookies. If you didn't comply with a Land Shark's request for orange soda and oreo cookies, he'd eat you. I was understandably upset at the notion that a shark might come to my door and steal my cookies and soda.
I'm pretty sure i believed in Land Sharks until at least second grade. No wonder I'm still terrified of sharks. It took a ridiculous amount of courage for me to poke a shark at the zoo. No...i didn't have oreos and orange soda in my purse in case the shark-poking went bad. Ha...that'd be stupid....
Anyway.
I'm unsure why Shark Week is so fun for me. Maybe cause they've never done a special on Land Sharks. I swear, if I ever turn on the TV to see "Land Sharks: Innocent Orange Soda Lovers or Ruthless Killers?" then I'm finding some way to move to Mars.
Land Sharks don't have thumbs...so I doubt they could fly a space shuttle to Mars.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Danielle OUT.
is day 2 of SHARK WEEK!!! I love shark week. I love shark week to an unhealthy degree. I have watched at the very least five hours of shark-related programing today. Psh...of course I have friends...psh. Whatever. You don't know my life. Anyway...my extreme love of all things shark week was born from my INTENSE FEAR of sharks. Seriously. I got, like, twenty-two minutes into Jaws before I flipped out.
I'm aware that most people who are deathly afraid of sharks do not spend the entirety of Shark Week on a couch watching Shark Week. But, unlike many people who have shark-related phobias, I live in a land-locked state. And have always lived in a land-locked state. So HA sharks. Try and bite me now. That is basically my mentality behind watching Shark Week. Mostly, it consists of me laughing because sharks cannot come get me on my couch.
When I was a child, however, my dad convinced me and my brother that there was an exotic breed of shark called Land Sharks. He said that Land Sharks come and knock on your door and ask for orange soda and oreo cookies. If you didn't comply with a Land Shark's request for orange soda and oreo cookies, he'd eat you. I was understandably upset at the notion that a shark might come to my door and steal my cookies and soda.
I'm pretty sure i believed in Land Sharks until at least second grade. No wonder I'm still terrified of sharks. It took a ridiculous amount of courage for me to poke a shark at the zoo. No...i didn't have oreos and orange soda in my purse in case the shark-poking went bad. Ha...that'd be stupid....
Anyway.
I'm unsure why Shark Week is so fun for me. Maybe cause they've never done a special on Land Sharks. I swear, if I ever turn on the TV to see "Land Sharks: Innocent Orange Soda Lovers or Ruthless Killers?" then I'm finding some way to move to Mars.
Land Sharks don't have thumbs...so I doubt they could fly a space shuttle to Mars.
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Danielle OUT.
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