Posts tagged Boys

“That project won’t take very long. Just whip it out.”

This afternoon, Liz’s confusion of two simple phrases led to an incredibly awkward situation with a middle-aged male coworker.

“Whip through it” + “”Crank it out” = “Whip it out” and a pending sexual harassment charge.

Mafia Wars or Farmville

Name: Lynn, age 47, Part time administrative assistant, Mary Kay sales person

Your Life: You like to eat Doritos while watching The Biggest Loser and other shows about fat people getting skinny. You also really love Bejeweled and often lose track of time while playing one of these games on Friday nights, causing you to miss whatever plans you didn’t actually have. You don’t really care though because you’re wearing that white, hoodless sweatshirt with a picture of kittens playing in a basket. Ha ha, gee wiz, that sweatshirt is just the best.

The Sims

Name: Chloe, age 14 and a half, High school freshman, 3.67 GPA, 3rd chair french horn in orchestra

Your Life: One time your cousin asked you if you wanted to smoke weed and you blushed, put your hand (in the shape of an “L”) up to your forehead, and ran to your room so you could journal about how hard it is growing into a strong, independent, drug-free woman. The Sims makes you feel in control and productive. However, you also blush when your Sims make out. 

Nike + GPS or any other fitness tracking app

Name: Nathan, not Nate, age 28, Account Exec. at a small yet profitable local advertising agency

Your Life: Right now you’re super busy training for your 3rd Ironman in as many years. Marathons just weren’t a challenge anymore. You have an automatic car starter, you say “Bullshit” a lot, and you’re in between girlfriends at the moment because all girls are crazy. 

Scrabble or Words with Friends

Name: Christofer (with an F), age 23, Bartender, drummer/founding member of a band called “That One Time”

Your Life: You snagged a four-year degree from a private liberal arts college on the East Coast, but you decided to follow your musical calling. You’re mom is pissed about it, and you’re a little embarrassed when you see high school classmates at the bar, but,  to be fair, you majored in art history, so you weren’t really being serious about it anyway. You like playing Facebook Scrabble with your 9-to-5 friends because you feel super validated winning against someone who regularly submits themselves to The Man. You’re much free-er than they are.

Pros

• People will think you’re athletic. Wanna step it up? Wear a medal or a race bib or something to make them think you’re good ‘n’ fit.
• If someone says you smell bad, tell them it’s because you just ran a marathon, so lay the fuck off.
• If you go home with a boy and have to do the Walk of Shame the next morning, you can just jog it out. People will think, “Now there is responsible young adult. Waking up on Saturday morning to exercise! I bet she never makes drunken mistakes that she’ll regret forever. What a role model!”
• You can time all kinds of stuff with that high tech, split-calculating watch you’ve got on. Is your drunk friend wondering how much time passes between each of her hiccups? No prob (brushes imaginary dust of shoulder).
• You’ll save money by sneaking booze into the bar in those little water bottles you attach to that runner’s fanny pack/waistband thing.
• People will most certainly look at you. Everybody needs a little attention now and then. If this is the only way for you to get it, then so be it.

Cons

• If someone asks you do prove your athleticism by doing something inherently “athletic,” you might be in trouble. Best to have a little diddy prepared like a good Toe Touch Stretch or something.
• Yes, athletic gear will offer you a Walk of Shame sans the shame, however, the probability of you going home with someone, let alone getting hit on, while wearing spandex shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and your ratty-ass Asics is very slim.

Pros: like a million
Cons: 2
Consensus: WEAR IT 

Age 3
Married to my cousin Jameson and living in a pink treehouse underneath a rainbow. We also have like 16 puppies that never grow up into real dogs, they just stay puppies forever and poop out bite-size Oreos.

Age 9
Accomplished Olympic swimmer with so many gold medals that I couldn’t feasibly wear them all at the same time because it would break my neck and the shine would be too much for the eyes of mere humans.

Age 14
Dating someone like Travis Barker or a Sum 41 band member, touring the country in a pimped out Greyhound, drinking big-can-energy-drinks and being “punky.” We would be so rich that we would install DVD players on our BMX bikes so we could watch Jackass movies while doing tricks on that ramp thingie.

Age 18
The high school kids’ favorite math teacher. They call Miss Kel and come to me with their teen issues ‘cuz they know I know what’s hip. The sexy, slightly older principle plays footsie with me under the table at staff meetings, but I’m just stringing him along because I’m actually dating a different personal trainer from each of the 3 Lifetime Fitnesses in my neighborhood.

Age 21
Definitely not getting drunk all the time anymore…

Age 24
For real though, not getting drunk all the time anymore. And making a butt-ton more money than I was at 24.

Note: 25th birthday = Oct. 5, 2011, so there’s still time…

The Hickey
Whoopsie, you got a hickey. You’re probably a little proud. More importantly, you’re probably a lot embarrassed. You’re gonna have to hide that since your dreadlocks pretty much rule out the “I burned myself with a curling iron” excuse. Just wear that cowl neck sweater to your office job, goooooood idea. It’s the middle of August, BTW, you idiot. At least people know you generated some interest from a boy. Actually, they don’t know it was a boy. You have dreadlocks, after all, so they probably assume you’re a lesbian. 

The Facial Bruise
When’s the last time you had a bruise on your face? Oh… never? Yeah, because that doesn’t happen. Well, whatever you do, don’t tell them the real story of how you got it. Punching yourself in the chin because you just had to get that sticky glue stick cap off doesn’t sound very sexy. And believe me, you’re gonna need to hold on to every sexy point you can ‘cuz that facial bruise isn’t helping. 

The Uncontrollable Blemish
So you’ve been moving to a new apartment, which always stresses you out to the max. Apparently you were so stressed that you actually went through puberty again. It’s a scientific anomaly, but it happened, so how do you deal with the biggest zit in the time/space continuum that has taken up residency in the middle of your forehead? Well, you can’t comb your bangs over it because you don’t have bangs. You chose dreadlocks. You’ll just have to ride it out. Roll with the punches. Laugh with your coworkers when one of them names the zit “Patrick” and starts talking to it like you’re not even in the room. Try not to blush when someone tries to feed Patrick a sundae and gets whipped cream in your hair.

*NOTE: I’m talking about you. Not me, even though I also have dreadlocks. YOU.

1. My dreadlocks
   Grandma: “Those corn rows. What’s up with those corn rows? You look like Jimi Hendrix.” 
   
   Me: “Grandma, Jimi Hendrix had a huge afro. Besides, I have dreadlocks, not corn rows. You know, like Bob Marley, if we must put it in terms of African American musical legends.”
   
   Grandma: “Yeah, Obama, Michael Jordan, and Malcom X. Whatever. The point is, do boys like girls with dreadlocks, Kels? Well, DO THEY?” 
   
   Me: “Oh, you made a list of black men. Good job, Grandma.”
    
2. My complete lack of domestic skills
   Apparently having the ability to cross stitch knee slappers like “Home Sweet Mess” and “Once I quit golf. It was the hardest day of my life.” on to couch pillows and frame-able doilies will never go out of style.
   
   
3. My foul mouth
   Grandma: “I remember when I could get a quarter from you for saying ‘stupid’ or ‘shoot.’ I’d be a rich B-word if I started charging $5 every time you complain about your coworker who was being a slutty  ‘See You Next Wednesday’ as you say.”
   
   Me: “Close enough.”
   
   
4. I’m too techy
   Grandma: ”You’re on the computer too much. You talk about the Twitter all the time. You spend too much time learning ‘technology’ (does the quotation mark action with fingers) stuff. You’re like a female bodybuilder, but for ‘technology.’ (does it again) And nobody likes female bodybuilders.”
   
   Me: “First of all, Grandma, that analogy was ridiculous. In other news, you don’t have to put ‘quotation marks’ (does the quotation mark action with fingers) around the word ‘technology.’ (does it again) It’s not theoretical. It exists.” 
   
   
5. My big feet
   She’s awfully worried they don’t even make wedding shoes in size 11. “But you’ll probably want to get married barefoot at an outdoor music festival anyway, right Kels?”