Posts tagged Technology

You know when you put your coffee on your desk when you get to work and then you get lost in checking your email and then you read an email that is supes annoying/dumb/stupid/grrrr and you’re all “Eff, I wish I had some mother effing coffee ‘cuz this idiot is an idiot.” And then you look down and you hear that angels-humming/heavens-opening-up sound in your head and you’re like “Yesssss. I do have coffee. *smiley face emoticon*”

A - #AwwHellNo

B - #BrainerdWorkVaca
Atleast the hotel had cookies at the front desk. OH WAIT, THEY WERE OUT. Fuckin’ Brainerd. 

C - #ClassicGoobs
For boogers? 

D - #DontYouDareWoofAtMe
For dogs? 

E - #EffThisNose
I think I probably meant “noise?” If not, I was actually unaware of my apparently subconscious hatred of my schnoz.

F - #FrankOceanSwoonyPants
I mean, right?

G - #GrandOldDay
Don’t ask me, I don’t seem to remember anything. #TooManyMimosas 

H - #HeckYes
I refuse to believe that Napoleon Dynamite quotes are finished. 

I - #IWannaDie
Every Saturday/Sunday morning. 

J - #JustSayin
I “just say” a lot of stuff. 

K - #KelseyFact
No one cares, Kels. 

L - #LAWLZ

M - #MyFeetFeelFatDotCom
Just one of those days, ya heard? 

N - #NowPlaying

O - #OffBeats
In reference to my annoying french horn parts when playing in Family Band, a twice annual familial music group formed by all my cousins, aunts/uncles, sisters, parents, and Grandpa on the tuba. We play Christmas carols in Dec. and Sousa marches in July. We suck.

P - #PizzaLuceBlockParty
Little did I know that the cool kids were tweeting sans the “pizza” at #LuceBlockParty. 

Q - #QuestionablePoopLikeStainOnSidewalk
Outside the CVS in Midway. Don’t know why I was surprised, being that I was at the Midway CVS and all. 

R - #RomanticFrenchHipHopSwag
Talking about MC Solaar, tryin’ to be cool. You know how it is.  

S - #SweatySwag
This is what I have after I got for a run and have convinced myself that I still look/smell just fine. 

T - #TeenSanta
A Shane Shane song you must know. 

U - #UTJUSYhahahhaha
This was obviously some sort of “hilarious” acronym I came up with while drunk. 

V - #VaginalInterpretation
??? 

W - #WineDrunk
What else is new, eh? 

X - I have no hashtags saved in my phone that start with “x.” Suggestions?

Y - #YuckBuckFuckCluckDuckMuckTRUCK
♥ rhyming. ♥ trucks.

Z - #ZebrasWhatWhatInTheButt
Apparently I was pretty stoked to see my striped friends at the Como Zoo. 

I unknowingly embarking on my first 3D movie adventure last night while seeing “Captain America.” Boy oh boy, it sure was… like watching a regular movie. Except, pretty much everything scared me to point of peeing myself.

OK, to set the scene, I am literally chalk-full of irrational fears. Sharks, cell phone explosions, and the possibility of my house flooding from floor to ceiling (thus, me drowning in my sleep) are always on my mind. So don’t even get me started on the rational ones like loud gun/bomb/fight-y noises and objects reaching out from what should be a two-dimensional medium. Oofdah.

I’m afraid that reliving the film in order to review it adequately on my blog is just a little more than my frail heart can handle.

Half-Assed Review:

It was loud. Dude is seer hot. Lots of bad guys (aka Nazis, ever heard of ‘em?). Tommy Lee Jones is getting pretty old. Just kiss already. Wait, where did Samuel L. Jackson come from? 

Perks of 3D:

• I think, and I’m not completely sure so don’t quote me on this, that Chris Evans’ abs have abs of their own. 
• I did enjoy looking at myself in the mirror while wearing those thick-rimmed hipster glasses. I think I did  a lot of hair fluffing, for optimal facial framing purposes. I’m a huge fan of cute yet useless accessories. HUGE fan.
• 3D movies have a concession stand, just like the regular movies, so that’s cool.

Here’s why we should bring them back:
These are tough times. We all know this. The economy is still in the shitter (I think) and we need to do everything we can to stand out as unique individuals who have tons of creative energy to offer. So ditch the FirstNameLastName@gmail.com bullshit and follow these simple steps.

DIY: The “Overly Explanatory E-mail Address Formula” (foolproof)

• Step One: Self Expression (part one of two)
  Pick a word that embodies you in some way. What do you like about yourself? What makes you unique? Do you tell it like it is? Perfect, choose a word like sassy. 


• Step Two: Self Expression cont. (part two of two)
  Repeat step one. It’s best if you can make this word start with same letter or rhyme with the first word. If your actual name starts with that letter, fine, but Sassy Swimmer sounds a lot cooler than Sassy Susan, just sayin’.


• Step Three: The Number
  This step is where you can really add a little mystery! Pick literally any number. It could be something obvious like your high school graduation year, or something more secretive like 42. This could refer the age your mom was when she divorced your dad, your sexual partner tally, or even what you wish your sexual partner tally was. If you’re going the obscure/myterious number route, keep the meaning/non-meaning to yourself. It’ll make people think it’s super important and personal. It’s artsy to have secrets.


• Step Four: The Domain
  You might think people stop reading your e-mail address after the @ sign. Wrong. Here’s what your domain is saying about you:
  Gmail.com = I’m stuck up young professional. I wear glasses so you think I’m smarter than you.
  Yahoo.com, Hotmail.com or AOL.com = I’m a free spirit who also reads the news.
  Juno.com or anything that ends in .net (now we’re talkin’!) = I’m charmingly wacky and have never felt the need to “upgrade” to a more serious e-mail address. I’m just being ME, OK? Deal with it!


• Result:
  sassyswimmer42@juno.com 

Other helpful tips:

• Customize your e-mail signature by writing your name in magenta colored Comic Sans or some other fun font (Lucinda Handwriting is sooooo beautiful!).
• E-mail is a hard medium for conveying emotion and tone of voice. But, HELLOOOO, that’s why emoticons were invented! :P

EDIT: See this post on a real blog that people actually read.

1. Playing with matches in my childhood bed.
   Age 7
   I was found out when my mom discovered the burn marks in the sheets. I told her it had been a test because I thought she was slacking on her chores. It was nice to finally know that I could trust that she was doing her motherly duty of washing my bedding.


2. Rolling up pieces of napkins while my family was eating at a restaurant, telling them I had to go to the bathroom, then going outside and pretending to smoke them like cigarettes.
   Age 9
   The Ground Round by HarMar Mall turned into World War III real quick.


3. Having my AIM password as “MomsFartsStink55.”
   Age 14
   Well, they did. And how was I supposed to know she would read an article telling her to check up on her kids’ online activities to make sure they weren’t unknowingly getting involved in child sex trafficking? She said I couldn’t see “Dude Where’s My Car?” or get my ears double pierced until I told her my log-in. Talk about leverage.


4. Making a mythology video for my 10th grade English class project entitled “Smokey McDoobie Saves the Day.”
   Age 16
   It involved a lot of Ken Dolls reenacting scenes from the Odyssey and featured every 420 reference we could think of. It was literally brimming with cinematic integrity, obvi. Despite getting a call home from our teacher, I believe we got a B+ (!?).


5. Participating in Nugget-Offs (the ultimate carnivorous competition) before high school swim meets.
   Age 17
   One day, after an especially fierce showing at the Midway Wendy’s, I broke the school record in the 100 yard butterfly, then barfed everywhere (in the pool, out of the pool, you name it). And to the St. Paul City Swimming Conference, I issue this challenge: Just try to forget Kelsey McDonough. I dare 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?”

Copypaste: I have already lost literally seconds of my life putting the slash in between the words “copy” and “paste” and I’m only 24 and three quarters. If “copypaste” isn’t instituted, I’ll prolly have used like 30 minutes by the end of my life. I could have watched a whole nother (wait for it) Toddlers & Tiaras episode.

Nother: See above example. It just sounds right.

Snoogers: These are the messy combinations of boogers and slime that fly out of your nose when you have a super explosive sneeze.

Snoogershame: The mortified feeling that washes over you after the snoogers come out everywhere. It’s awful, especially in front of people, but you deserve it because you’re dispicable and disgusting. *light bulb*

Disgustable: Despicable + disgusting. If you are ever described as “disgustable” you should just go live in Antarctica or something. Or you could hang out with other disgustables like Charlie Sheen and that guy who played Screech. Whatever you choose, just get you snoogers outta my face. Eww.