Cirque du Soleil (sp?) (Also, Boobies) (Oh, and Oprah) (But not Oprah's Boobies)

I hope I spelled "Cirque du Soleil" correctly...considering I do have a degree in French.

ANYWAYS...as Kayla has been saying, "VEGAS! VEGAS! VEGAS! VEGAS!"

We leave Sunday morning and we are soooooooo excited. We leave Milwaukee at like 7 AM on Sunday and go through a time loop hole (or however that works), therefore gaining two hours so we should be there at like 9 AM Vegas time. A little later than I had hoped to start drinking, but maybe we can start on the plane. I've previously mentioned that we plan on crashing the 2012 Billboard Music Awards. The awards start at 5 PM so we'll be on the red carpet (or at least within two miles of it) a few hours before that. Then, I plan to yell the wrong name at various celebrities. That is sooooo much more likely to get their attention than using the right name. This is brilliant; I don't know why no one has thought of it before. Though, I should clarify that I will yell the wrong name UNLESS we see R.K. Follesé from Hot Chelle Rae. Then I will scream like a seven year old girl and began sobbing uncontrollably as I yell how much I love him and want to have his babies. And that´s saying a lot given that I don´t want children. But I just love him so much. He looks so good in a tank top. I mean how many guys really look good in a tank top? Yum.

Anyways, this post was supposed to be about Cirque du Soleil (By the way, that means Circus of the Sun. Seeeeee, my degree isn't completely worthless!), but I don't remember what my point was.

...

Oh yeah! We are going to see Cirque du Soleil Sunday night. They have 17 Cirque shows in Vegas. Okay, they actually have four shows, but did we learn nothing about dramatic effect? Kayla (which I just tried to spell with a "C." Thankfully I caught it before I published this post so you didn't see how special I am.) said that we are going to see Cirque du Soleil O. Upon learning this I immediately became very excited, because I love Oprah! I expressed my excitement to Kayla and she told me that, unfortunately, Oprah is not the star of this show. This is upsetting, but it's also just plain bad business! Do you know how much people would pay to see Oprah twirling around in the air while interviewing celebrities (who would also be twirling around in the air) and giving away stuff?

"You get tickets to the booby show! And you get tickets to the booby show! And you get tickets to the booby show!"

[You should know that I just Googled both "booby show" and "titty show" to determine which is more commonly used. It's "titty show," but I have an Eskimo friend (who may actually be a mix of Asian* and something else and not actually Eskimo at all) who despises the word "tit" so I decided to stick with "booby."]

Also, I'M GOING BLOND TONIGHT! This may or not be related to my current one-third life crisis.

*I'm 92% sure she's Japanese and something European, but, despite the nature of this blog (and the numerous times that I've referred to Guest Blogger Emily as "Oriental"), I don't really want to label this friend (not to be confused with Emily) as the incorrect variety (is it okay to say "variety?") of Asian.

How to Snag a Hottie

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Okay...so I'm a teeny bit late (maybe that explains the nausea...hahahaha...).  Anyways, I may or may not have been distracted by a series of shiny things, but I have regained foc

Sorry, it happened again :/ ANYWAY...I shared some great advice for snagging a hottie with Kayla on Valentine's Day and now I am sharing it with you. Let's pretend I posted this two weeks ago.

Our conversation started with a discussion about working out:

Me: I wish you didn't have night school so I could come over after work every day and we could work out! And then all the boys'd be comin' to the yard or whatever one says.

Kayla: Ghetto just isn't your thing. 

Me: The boys'd be all "Hey girl!" and I'd be like "HeeeEeey!" And they'd be like "UH, we said hey GIRL!" and I'd be like "HeeeEEeeey!" And then they'd be like "Hey girl with the boobs!" and I'd be like "HeeeEeeeey!"

[Then Kayla made a face kind of like this: >_<]

Me: And then they'd prolly shoot me cuz they want your milkshake not mine. [Guess I better add the "Hi Mom" label to this post.] But that's okay cuz I'm not available. You should ask that hottie in your class to be your valentine. You can tell him it's an assignment for your sociology class. And then in like 10 years--when you're long married--you can be like "I didn't have a sociology class."

Kayla: You should write sappy romance novels. Or Hallmark cards.

Me: And you should follow my advice.

[Then Kayla made a face kind of like this: o_O]

Kayla: I'm a fraidy cat.

Me: I know. I will give you six more weeks to feel him out, but after that I expect you to be feeling him up.

Kayla: Wahhh.

Me: Just be like "I'm sorry if I'm in your personal space, but I was drawn in by the gravity of your biceps."

Kayla: You're such a dick. I don't know how to go about getting to know this guy.

Me: Play dumb. Email him about class. Or talk to him during the break.

Kayla: He leaves during break!

Me: Follow him.

[Then Kayla made another face kind of like this: o_O]

Kayla: I'm not quite at your level of creepy.

Me: "I lost a contact and it might be on your bicep. The gravity field it creates has been known to collect small objects." Or ask for his help. Bring something really heavy to class--like a body--and ask him to help you carry it.

Kayla: "So...I accidentally murdered this hobo...can you help me toss him in the Dumpster? Thanks, babe!"

Me: Exactly!

I'm so proud of Kayla. She seems to really be beginning to understand the finer points of dating.

Michael Trevino is a god. And Bigfoots are under appreciated.

I think it's time for a new tag: NSFM. Not Safe For Mom. Hi, Mom! Hi, Kayla's Mom! This blog is one big joke, but you may want to turn back now. I would never be graphic (well...I might be a LITTLE graphic) or gross, but you still may not want to read parts of what follows. You've been warned. <3

Shall we begin?

This week I set out to create a collage of pictures of some of my favorite ripped celebrities. The purpose of this collage was to remind me why I'm working out so hard: so that can be all muscly and hot too. During my hunt for shirtless pictures, I discovered that Michael Trevino (who plays Tyler Lockwood on The Vampire Diaries) did a photo shoot for Bench Underwear. Well...soon my celebrity collage became a mostly-Michael Trevino collage. I couldn't help myself. I shared a picture with the boyfriend and said "this is my new goal body" and his response was "Is that attainable!?" To which I responded "Over time, yes." And he said "Yes, let's aim for that!" Of course by "over time" I meant "Over ten years once I win the lottery and can spend six hours per day working out." Eh, details.

(click for bigger - various sources, please do sue me!)

This discovery led to a bit of an obsession with Michael Trevino and I started following him on Twitter. Through his tweets I have learned something: Michael Trevino is a total bro. A bro who is always wearing something (hat, shirt, etc.) that says "Raised by wolves." Let me tell you what I'm raised by: pictures of Michael Trevino in underwear.

Of course now that I've said that, my mom (who probably kept reading despite the disclaimer) is going to think that my workout motivation collage is really motivation for something else.

Let's change the subject....

Last week I came up with a great idea for a TV series. I'm still working on my novel, but I would like to try my hand at TV too and I thought I had an ingenious idea! Recently my parents have revealed an obsession of their own: the Animal Planet series Finding Bigfoot. I happen to love bigfoots (and yetis as well). So I was like, "OMG! A bigfoot drama!" In this drama we will learn that bigfoots do in fact exist and that they are not only smart, but they are smarter than us! They will finally become fed up with man kind and decide to reveal themselves and subsequently take over the world. And then I had another realization: "OMG, Michael Trevino can play the lead human!"

And then I told Kayla about this idea and she responded: "So you're writing Planet of the Apes?" >_<

The Dearly Departed

Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noël! (←Look, my degree is good for something!) I hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season and time with their families! We do our best to enjoy their company while we have them in our lives, but what about once they pass on? It is during this time of year that many of us remember our lost loved ones in a variety of different ways;  some traditional, some not. I prefer the ones that aren't.

Person 1: "That diamond necklace is gorgeous!"
Person 2: "Thank you, it's my mother!"
Person 1: "You mean it's your mother's."
Person 2: "Nope. This is my mother. Mom, this is Person 1."

At this point it's probably not news to you that you can turn your loved ones into diamonds. (Note: I asked one of the companies if they have to be dead first and they said yes. Sad ballerino* :( ). Anyways, you may not know that there are other options too! Now you can also turn grandma into beads! The best part is that beads are only hundreds of dollars, not thousands like the diamonds. Also, you can preserve your loved one's hair and make a necklace. That's probably the cheapest option. Please note that I would advise against wearing any of these things while on a date. Unless you met the person on a necrophiliac dating site.

Personally, I don't quite understand why you would go through such extravagant trouble. I should preface this by mentioning that Kayla and I have a plan in place were one of us to die before the other. If all goes according to our plans we will die together in an intimate embrace, but there is an off chance that won't happen. In that case, we have an agreement for actions that must be taken before the coroner arrives. If I find Kayla dead, I have agreed to make sure her face is made-up. This will probably involve copious amounts of makeup applied to the wrong parts of the face. Perhaps in a rainbow pattern. Okay, probably in a rainbow pattern. If Kayla finds me dead, she has agreed to make sure my hair is styled. This will probably involve washing my hair by placing my head in the toilet and flushing as she will not be able to lift me into the shower. She will then style my hair, returning my head to the toilet--and then restyling it--as many times as necessary to insure that it's perfect.

What we haven't planned is what will happen after that. Diamonds and beads are nice and all, but I really don't see how they remind you of your loved ones. It has been my longtime intention to wear Kayla's skin like a coat. This is clearly the option that will remind the most of her and our many nights spent spooning where I am, of course, the little spoon. Kayla has expressed a teeny amount of opposition to this, but a recent purchase by the Bloggess has reassured me that this is the correct choice.

*Please see Center Stage: Turn It Up for clarification on why "ballerino" is the best word in the English language. Even though spell check doesn't recognize it as a word. (Related: I just Googled "Kenny Wormald bulge" and got a picture of an old lady. Thankfully it was not a picture of her bulge. (I guess I better add the "Hi Mom" label to this post now.))

The Christmas Nazi

This post is long, but bear with me because it’s IMPORTANT. This might be the most important thing I’ve ever written. And to be completely honest, writing it made me realize that I AM OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND. As if we all didn’t know that already.

I’d also like to preface this by stating that the Nazis were ASSHOLES. I am personally horrified by the crimes they committed and this post is not meant to laugh at those criminals nor their victims. The only reason that I call myself The Christmas Nazi is because “nazi” is really the only noun that sums up the mania that takes over my mind during the month of December. If you’re already offended by this preface or you think you might be offended by me comparing my fanatical behavior to that of a Nazi’s, then do both yourself and me a favor and leave now.

You see, ever since I was a small child, Christmas has been a magical time for me. And by magical, I mean stressful because try as I might to make everything perfect, my family manages to screw it up every single year.

The most stressful part about Christmas during my childhood was trying to find the perfect tree. A lot of kids have tantrums in toy stores. I had them in Christmas tree lots. My parents never got the tree that I wanted, mostly because it was always 12 feet tall and wouldn’t have fit through the door of our house. One year I decided that I couldn't bear to go through it the heartbreak and disappointment anymore, so my family went tree shopping without me and decided to fuck with my fragile mind. When I arrived home, instead of a beautiful tree in our living room, there was a 6 inch Christmas tree branch in a vase sitting on top of our TV. My asshole parents even “decorated” it with paperclips and popcorn. After seeing me completely lose my shit, my parents brought in the real tree. I was not amused. The Christmas tree saga finally ended when we moved into a bigger house with extremely high ceilings. My parents bought a fake, pre-lit Christmas tree that’s about 9 feet tall. It’s perfection, mostly because it’s one less thing for my family to potentially screw up.

In addition to having the perfect tree, there a few rules that must be adhered to each year if my family wants to avoid my nuclear Christmas meltdowns.

1. The Christmas Season

The Christmas season does NOT begin until the day after Thanksgiving. I don’t want to hear any Christmas music or see even a red and green bow until that day. It just pisses me off when Thanksgiving feels like an afterthought. It’s not fair to Thanksgiving, okay? And don’t even get me started on the fools that begin Christmas before Halloween.

2. Christmas Tree GuidelinesThe Christmas tree must be decorated to an approved playlist. I will sing, so just get over it. I let my family help with the decorations, but as soon as they go to bed I rearrange everything so it no longer looks like a bunch of lazy/blind people did it. The tree must be up until at least January 2nd. If I had it my way we’d leave it up until March, but my family sabotages that shit every year so I don’t even bother with that pipe dream anymore.

3. Decorating the HouseI decorate the house. Nobody else knows where the Flurryville snowmen statues go. Trust me, these people mess everything up. And don’t bother trying to rein me in when I’ve been possessed by the Christmas spirit. I realize that you can’t swing a sprig of mistletoe without knocking over some Christmas paraphernalia, but it looks fucking magical so just deal with it.

4. Family TraditionsMy family sucks with traditions. Every Christmas tradition we have was started by me and I enforce them strictly. First, Christmas cookies must be baked every year. I’ve spent 3 straight days in the kitchen baking cookies BY MYSELF because everyone else was “too busy” to help me. Last year my mother helped decorate the cookies and she frosted a snowman with YELLOW frosting. I swear to Sweet Baby Jesus I have no idea what the hell these people are thinking. Other traditions include opening one present each on Christmas Eve and the rest on Christmas morning. My brother screws that one up EVERY YEAR because we have accommodate his plans with his girlfriend. It’s ridiculous. You know how I got around that? I dated the son of a Jehovah’s Witness. It was PERFECT. I also began the tradition of eating freshly baked popovers every Christmas morning and I have to wake up at the ASS CRACK of DAWN to bake them because nobody else in my family knows how. The last and most important tradition that I started is the annual screening of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (the original animated version) and A Christmas Story. I always try to enforce White Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life too but that never works because my family is disrespectful when it comes to the classics. Last year they made me watch that god-awful Arnold Schwarzenegger Christmas movie. I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than be subjected to that again.

If any of these rules are broken, I completely lose my shit. I know it’s probably not in the spirit of the season to become a crazy Christmas bitch every year, but Christmas is the one time of year that I like to pretend my family is perfect. Nothing makes me happier than waking up in the morning and seeing our perfectly decorated tree in our beautifully decorated living room. And as much as my family bitches and moans about how crazy I am, I know they enjoy having a perfect Christmas holiday just as much as I do. They can roll their eyes at my antics as they shovel their mouths full of the Christmas cookies and popovers that I so lovingly made because I KNOW that they’re secretly thrilled to have such a psychotic Christmas Nazi in the family. I may be bat shit crazy, BUT I MAKE CHRISTMAS HAPPEN.

Allow me to introduce my cabinet.

So I recently proposed to Kayla...that she become president. There's no hope for me, nor for my future husband (because I'm gay and he will be gay...probably...I'm not picky). Anyways, Kayla is squeaky clean so I said she should become president and then make me part of her cabinet. I continued that I would like to be a shiny part of her cabinet, like a door pull. And that gave me an idea.


My "office" with it's new piece of furniture.


So now, whenever I need to make an important decision, I can say "Allow me to consult my cabinet." Though I'm probably just looking at porn.

Deer Pinatas & The Story Ruiner

I was in the car with my parents one day when we passed a deer farm. Being from rural Wisconsin I have a hard time understanding why people need to go to a fenced in area to shoot deer. I can hardly drive my Volkswagen without smacking into one of the damn things, so they're not exactly an endangered species. It just seems a little unfair to raise deer just so people that are too lazy to actually find one in the wild can still kill something and feel all manly. I voiced this disdain to my parents and said, "You know, they might as well just whack a pinata full of venison at this point," which they thought was hilarious.

"Heyyyy gurllll!!! Oh my gawd that orange vest is so last season."
BANG!
Not even fair, right?

The next day at work my mom decided to share the story with our coworkers. My mother is notorious for taking a funny story or joke and butchering it until it's rendered completely nonsensical. She usually forgets the punchline too, so one of us has to deliver it for her, which completely ruins the flow of the whole thing.

As she was setting up the deer farm story I got more and more tense because I just KNEW she was going to fuck it up and ruin my brilliant one-liner. I was completely shocked when she reached my line and instead of attempting to deliver it she just looked at me and said, "Well…?"

I stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. Did she REALLY just hand over the story rather than murder it? IS THIS REAL LIFE? [Love that drugged little post-dentist kid! teehee!]

I was so shocked that I stuttered through the first couple of words, nearly butchering the whole thing myself, but I managed to pull it off and receive peals of raucous laughter for my efforts.

My mother will probably kill me when she reads this, so in an attempt to save my life:

Love you, Mom! Even if you are a story ruiner. <3

OMG, Free Stuff!

So, we LOVE free stuff. And there are certain people who like to give bloggers free stuff. Well, we recently had our very first experience with this. A (presumably) nice woman from www.V4L.com emailed us offering to send us e-cigarettes to try and then review on the blog. Well, there was one problem: neither of us smokes. But that didn't stop us for accepting for two reasons:

1. We have friends who smoke and we were hoping that we could get them to at least switch to the (presumably) safer* e-cigarettes if they could try them for free. We've heard a lot of people complain about the start-up cost as being very high for something that might not work. We love our friends and don't want them to die young; so, we hoped this would be the perfect pairing.
2. Did I mention we love free stuff?

*Everything we read states that there is no clear research as to whether or not e-cigarettes are actually safer than the genuine article, but, as they eliminate most of the chemicals in a real cigarette, it is commonly assumed that they are safer.

So we received the e-cigarettes in the mail and took them to the bar with us. It didn't go so well. Our friend was hesitant to even try them. We had heard arguments before about them looking stupid and that ended up being a major issue. We finally persuaded our friend to try it, but when she took her first puff, she screamed. See, the end of the "battery" lights up when you inhale. This is supposed to simulate the burning end of a cigarette and is also an indicator during charging and such. Well, the light is VERY bright. Especially in a dark bar. Our friend said something like, "I'll only use this if I'm being raped! It'll blind my attacker and alert the authorities all at once." She then proceeded to go outside, alone, without even her phone as entertainment to smoke the real McCoy. We tried?

That said, Kayla took them to work for people to try and got a few people interested in them. Though it was daylight so maybe the blinding nature of the glowing end wasn't evident?

Oh and we tried to get you guys a discount but the company decided to pass. We considered writing this post without ever mentioning the company's name to spite them, but we're not jerks. At least one of us isn't. We'll let you decide which one of us. (<--rhetorical)

PANIC! At the Flat Top

Mike and I decided to go out for dinner tonight. I asked where he'd like to go and he chose Flat Top Grill. I've never been there, so I decided to check out their menu. It turns out this place is basically Subway but with stir fry instead of sandwiches. You pick from a ton of ingredients and they cook it for you.

I'm not sure if you guys know this about me, but I am incapable of making decisions. I grew up with a father and brother who get really salty when they don't get their own way, so my mom and I have adapted to them. We generally don't have an opinion on things like food, so we just go along for the ride and eat wherever we're taken. This applies to ordering as well. I never know what I want so I just get what my mom gets.

Flat Top Grill threw a huge motherfucking wrench in THAT plan.

Mike loves spicy food. I don't. So right away I know I can't just say "I'll have what he's having."

Enter anxiety attack.

Luckily, to help morons like me understand the ordering process, Flat Top Grill has an app on their website that walks you through it. I was optimistic when I saw this handy little app. I thought, "Wow, maybe I'll avoid looking like a total dumbass today."

I clicked the link and began the first step.

STEP 1: Rice or Noodles? Please select one.

WHAT? Already I'm faced with a HUGE dilemma. How can I choose the base for my entire meal when I don't know what I want to mix it with? Rice? Noodles? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!! I expressed my panic to Mike and he said he always gets noodles. So, I picked noodles.

STEP 2: Vegetables. Please select your favorite vegetables.

I took a deep breath. Okay, you can do this Kayla. It's just 5 pictures of vegetables. Click on the ones you like. Only...what the FUCK is number 4 supposed to be a picture of? It looks like a tortilla chip. OMG WHAT IS IT??? WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?!?

STEP 3: Sauces. Please select your flavors.

Okay. 5 choices again. Kayla YOU CAN DO THIS. Wait...WTF? What is "Asian Tastes" supposed to taste like? Or "Allergy Friendly"?? That sounds disgusting. I have NO FUCKING CLUE what any of this means.

STEP 4: Proteins. Please select your protein.

Okay, this is the only part that I can actually figure out. *clicks "Chicken"* Whew! NOW we're rolling right along!

So then the computer "cooks" my bowl and voila, it looks like food.

Except I still have NO FUCKING CLUE how any of that happened. And Mike told me that it's way more complicated than the app. AND you have to put the stuff in your bowl YOURSELF. So...great. I'm going to look like a moron. This is my cue to crawl under my desk and cry.

I'll let you guys know how it goes.

UPDATE:

Okay, guys. So the Flat Top Grill was actually not even a little bit scary. I feel really stupid for being so worried. Our server was the BOMB DOT COM. She was so sweet and walked me through the whole thing and helped me find a good sauce combination. Luckily we got there fairly early in the evening so when Mike and I went up to put our bowls together we were the only two at the station. My food was DELICIOUS. OMG that bread was to die for. My only regret is that I didn't manage to fit more stuff into my bowl. Definitely piling way more on next time.

I was asked to take a picture of my noodle concoction, so here's some food porn for you (sorry about the shitty pic, my phone isn't the best picture taker):

After dinner, Mike and I decided to visit Sephora, which is probably as close to nirvana as I'll ever get. In case you didn't know, I'm obsessed with makeup; I blog about it on my other site, Beauty Charade. I'll be writing a post here featuring my ridiculous makeup collection, because you really have to see it to believe it. It will reaffirm your suspicions that I am, in fact, COMPLETELY out of my mind. I picked up a few things tonight, but I'm proud to say that Mike actually spent MORE than me!!!!! So that was awesome and I'm still giggling about it. He got the man version of my favorite perfume because it isn't enough that we finish each other's sentences, we have to SMELL the same too.

But anyway, I had a blast with Mike, as always. We spent a fair amount of time gushing about how much we love writing this blog and how much we LOVE all of you. So thanks for visiting, commenting, tweeting and just being awesome! <3

There's a Bomb in the Oven!

Tonight Kayla and I went to see Abduction. You know, that traumatic drama about a teenage boy who discovers his picture on a missing persons web-site and realizes that his parents are not who he thinks they are?

I am so glad we went. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Seriously, I was laughing so hard that I was using my butter-stained napkin to sop up tears.

I'm going to try very hard not to spoil anything, but no promises.

I should start by saying that Kayla and I fully expected the movie to be terrible and that we only went to see it because the main character, Nathan, is played by Taylor Lautner of Twilight fame. In fact, when deciding whether or not to see it, Kayla polled her Twitter followers:

"Hey guys, on a scale of 1-10, how shirtless is Taylor Lautner in Abduction? Trying to decide if I wanna see it or not."

He's shirtless, but not enough. I'm not sure if him being shirtless the entire movie would have been worth it.

Let's start out by discussing the questionable parenting skills of the people who raised Nathan.

Nathan gets to school on a motorcycle. I just did some research because I didn't even think it was legal for someone under the age of 18 (Nathan is like 16 or something) to get a motorcycle license, but apparently, if you jump through some hoops, it is. What really bothered Kayla and I was that he never wore a helmet. C'mon folks, he's not an indestructible werewolf in this one! What parent is going to let their minor son ride a motorcycle without a helmet? Especially parents who have gone through what these ones have? (See, no details = no spoiler)

There is also the issue of how they handle the movie's romance between Nathan and another high school student. Nathan's "mother" questions him when he tries to leave to go to the girl's house. Ultimately she lets him go, but after he leaves she turns to his "father" and makes it perfectly clear that she expects them to do the dirty deed. And you still let him go??? I almost threw a condom at the screen myself.

Speaking of this teenage romance, nobody wants to see teenagers make out so passionately. It's just weird. There was a creepy old man [completely alone] two seats to the left of Kayla who was probably also only there to see Taylor shirtless and even he burst out laughing when Nathan grabs the girl's ass when they are making out.

Gross.

Now let's discuss the writing. I'm not going to go too far into the script because I really want to avoid spoilers, but something happens early in the movie that I have to discuss. A couple of bad guys break in to Nathan's house and attack his family. Nathan is about to finish off one of the bad guys when said bad guy yells, "There's a bomb in the oven!" It was the most ridiculous and cliché line ever. I couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. At the same time I was yelling in my head when the kids turned away from the bad guy and toward the kitchen: No there isn't, you idiots. It's just a distraction so you don't kill him! So Nathan and the girl (I forgot her name if you haven't figured that out) ran to the oven and opened it. My bad. There actually was a fucking bomb in the oven.

We're not even going to discuss the motivations behind putting a bomb in the oven, but we are going to discuss the logistics of it. Frankly, the bomb was quite large and it was clear that neither of the bad guys were carrying it when they came in to the house. It's my assumption then that a conversation must of happened at some point when the action was not following these villains. It's my guess that it went something like this:

Bad Guy #1: Fuck. I forgot the bomb in the car. Shit. Here, hold my gun. BRB.

He starts towards the car.

Bad Guy #1: Ah shit, I forgot the keys. Hey, Bad Guy #2, I need the keys! Can you just pop the trunk?

Bad Guy #2 mumbles something.

Bad Guy #1: Yeah, yeah. I know! I'll do her in when I get back, can you just fucking pop the trunk? I gotta get the bomb.

Bad Guy #2 mumbles something else.

Bad Guy #1: Fuck you! I'm not trying to skirt my duties! I'll do it! Now open the trunk and go preheat the oven! The bomb ain't done baking yet!

The movie's writing is just terrible. That's what it comes down to. I don't know anyone else's opinion of Sigourney Weaver, but the dialogue in this movie made her look like a low budget soap opera actress. In fact, Taylor Lautner's acting was actually pretty good for how terrible the script was.

Unlike Dolphin Tale, I don't even know who would actually like this movie. It is extremely anti-climatic and just plain terrible. The only person who will probably enjoy it is the gay in one of the crowd scenes who was visibly geeking out because he was so close to Taylor Lautner that he could reach out and lick him.

The government is taking over Antarctica, and penguins DO NOT HAVE SEX

There's no way to properly lead you into this conversation. I can't even blame it on the alcohol because it occurred at work when we were both completely sober. The link might be NSFW. I never clicked it so I still have no idea what it actually is. I really hope it's not penguin porn, but if it is, it's Mike's fault, so email him your angry complaints. I'm just an innocent bystander.

Mike [at an event where the Lt. Governor is speaking]: The Lt. Governor is pro mutant. I have a picture of her with Cyclops (or "Cyclone" as she called him). Gays are kind of like mutants, right?

Kayla: Yes. Gays are JUST like mutants.

Mike: I thought so. I actually don't want to be here. Makes me uncomfortable. And lunch is free, but I don't know what or when it is and that bothers me too.

Kayla: They've probably lured you all into a room so they can spray you with this mutant spray that's going to turn you into an unstoppable army. And then they'll use it to take over the WORLD.

Mike: Probs.

Kayla: But probably only the shitty parts of the world that nobody cares about. Because that's all the government is really interested in.

Mike: True.

Kayla: You'll probably take over Antarctica or some stupid shit like that and defeat all the penguins. And then there will be suicide bomber penguins running all over the damn place.

Mike: But I like penguins. =(

Kayla: I do too, but not suicide bomber penguins. If it's going to be us or them, I choose us. FUCK the penguins. Figuratively, of course. Wait. Do penguins have sex? I can't even imagine how that would look.

Mike: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0MgjpXIzRA

Kayla: Is that a video of penguin sex?

Mike: Yes. Basically penguin porn.

Kayla: I'm afraid to watch it. I think I'm just going to pretend it happens the way I've always pictured it in my head.

Mike: How do you picture it?

Kayla: Well, the mom penguin lays an egg. The dad penguin kisses it (never figured out how that would work with a beak though) and then holds onto it while the mom goes partying because laying eggs is REALLY stressful and she's gotta unwind with a few martinis. Then somehow the egg becomes fertilized, probably through magic, and then the egg opens and voila! baby penguin! And then they all sing and dance. Unless you end up with a defective penguin baby that sucks at singing. Wait. This sounds really familiar. DEJA VU! Gross. Now I'm thinking about other animals having sex. This is just wrong. IT'S ALL MAGIC. I'm going to tell my kids that. "Mom, where do babies come from?" "MAGIC."

That's how penguins are made, right guys? You know what? Nevermind. I still don't want to know. I'm going to go watch Happy Feet and enjoy my little bubble of innocent ignorance. You sickos can keep your penguin porn to yourselves.

Deep Thoughts & Weak Chins

Mike and I were out at a bar one night, and although it may seem like we’re totally self-absorbed (kind of true), we do like a little people watching with our alcohol.

I pointed out this guy who I thought was kind of awkward and unattractive, and was surprised when Mike disagreed.

Kayla: Wow, check out that mess. Sweet shorts, dude.

Mike: What? I think he’s really cute.

Kayla: Meh. He doesn’t have enough chin.

Mike: What???

Kayla: He has a weak chin. Not a fan.

Mike: That’s ridiculous.

Kayla: Why?

Mike: It just is. I mean he has *some* chin.

Kayla: Well yeah, he isn’t chin-less. He DOES have a lower jaw. It’s just weak. And therefore he looks weak. And I’m not attracted to weakness.

Mike: I don’t have much chin?

Kayla: You have more than him. And I don’t want to be attracted to you anyway.

Mike: Oh so you like your friends weak? I can’t believe you hate this guy. You don’t even know him.

Kayla: I don’t HATE him, I just think he’s a weak and pathetic excuse for a man. He probably has a very small penis.

Mike: You don’t know that.

Kayla: Well then, you know what you have to do now? Figure out a way to see his penis. I’m pretty sure he’s gay so you’re going to have to do it.

Mike: What?? Why?

Kayla: Because I want to know if it’s tiny or not.

Mike: I’ll just walk up to him and go, “So, are you gay or not? Also, do you have a tiny penis? My BFF says you have a weak chin and therefore probably have a tiny penis.”

Kayla: I think that sounds perfectly acceptable. It’s not like you have to see him again.

Mike: True, but I don’t want to be an ass.

Kayla: It would be so funny to blog about though.

Mike: That’s true.

Kayla: I feel like I can get you to do anything if I just mention how great it would be for our blog.

Mike: .............

Moral of the story: I am a horrible person. Hilarious, but horrible.