May 2008

I have discovered the function on my cell phone that allows me to record my own ring tone.  My new ring tone is a recording of me singing my previous ring tone, the digi-version of Salt-N-Pepa’s “Push It.”   


I have been spreading facts about the dangers of Canadian geese.  They will: not teach their young to migrate; contaminate water sources; continue to scare me.


I have reduced the ant population in my kitchen with Raid, prayer, and my angry fingers (which is gross.  I can’t believe I roped some dude into living with me). 


Is anyone else reading Y: The Last Man?  We need to buy books 8 and 9, and although I’m sure we’ll both read the series again and again (it’s awesome!  Susan, the main character is basically Xander with a monkey), I’m tired of having to buy them.  Let’s make a deal, internet.  I will give you one cat per book.  For keeps (you keep the cats, but we can return the comics). 


We are now proud owners of an ice cream maker!  The recipe booklet has created a dialogue* about the pronunciations of “sorbet” and “sherbet.”  Why do we pronounce it as “sher-beRt” but don’t say “sor-beRt”?  Come over for sorbert and shorbay all summer long, dudes!  *   

*1 — That’s grad school jargon

*2 — I can’t believe how often I use “!” in my posts.  What am I — writing articles for an employee newsletter?*

*2a — What’s with the asterisks?  What am I —  The Misanthropic Review?

Richard received a letter the other day from a nature conservatory group that enclosed “Your Hummingbird name and address labels!”  I got excited and opened it.  Though a federal offense to open his mail (which he informed me of as he watched), I just wanted to know his hummingbird name.  I thought it would be an assignment based on demographics, similar to a birthstone or state beverage (Virginia’s is milk).  Richard deserves a cool hummingbird name, like the Ruby-throated Fwapper or the Gnat Slapper.*  Turns out I broke the law for nothing.  Richard doesn’t have a hummingbird name, he just has name and address labels with hummingbirds on them.  Whatever.  Stupid nature clubs. 

This story has no significance (unless Burgerphone fans want to know what happens to me as soon as I get home in the evenings), I’m just interested in seeing the internet search terms that lead to this posting. 


*As identified in “Kelly Doesn’t Know Anything about Birds: A Field Guide.”

I am an imaginary “Wheel of Fortune” champ, though I occasionally enjoy some “Jeopardy.” My favorite part is the awkward, pre-planned story that Alex forces each contestant to tell, like, “I understand once you bought your sister a book for her birthday and she already had a copy,” or “Marilyn — who says here has done a handstand in a hotel pool?” And Marilyn will giggle and elaborate by repeating back what Alex just told her but add something extra boring onto it. Bjor-ing. Though were I to abandon my “WOF” training (which just involves doing three-fourths of the “Style Weekly” crossword puzzle and then demanding recognition from Richard that I am smart because I can answer the puzzles quickly when I watch “WOF” once a month). Oh, wait. Where was I going with this? Right. My intro on “Jeopardy” would be about how I ate two pieces of tres leches cake at the wedding party of my best pal and my future best pal by marriage. Then we got to take two pieces home!

Also I am now a master of English and can do things with my spare time like organize dinosaurs to stand on pandas in order to be eaten by other dinosaurs.