My Summer song is better...

Chinese food makes me sick

You know what really grinds my gears?

That there hasn't been a gem of a summer song like LFO's "Summer Girls" since it came out in 1999. (Don't you wish there was an international font for sarcasm?)

After hearing Katy Perry's new Grammy deserving song "California Gurls" it got me thinking about what my favorite songs of summers past are. Jimmy Buffet comes to mind, as does almost every country song known to man, the Beach Boys, even a little Tupac. But then it hit me, like a wave of 90's hair gel: "Summer Girls."

I started thinking, I like girls that wear Abercrombie and Fitch! Chinese food totally makes ME sick!!! And oh my god, it's totally fucking fly when girls stop by for the SUMMER!! EEEEEEEEEEEIIII!!!!!!! That's totes my jam!

No really, let's get down to the nitty gritty, the pure brilliance to this song of the century. Let's dissect some of my favorite lyrics....

Hip hop marmalade (Love it on my toast in the morning) spic and span,

Met you one summer and it all began

You're the best girl that I ever did see,

The great Larry Bird Jersey 33 (Wait, what?)

When you take a sip you buzz like a hornet (At least she's a cheap date)

There's a good man named Paul Revere (If I'm not mistaken, Mr Revere has been deceased for almost 200 years)

When I met you I said my name was Rich (He got me at, YO, I'm Rich)

You look like a girl from Abercrombie and Fitch (And that's a compliment?)

Like the color purple, macaroni and cheese,

Ruby red slippers and a bunch of trees (Ok, now he's just listing things because they rhyme)

I like Kevin Bacon, but I hate Footloose (That's where he lost me. I hate Kevin Bacon but LOVE Footloose)

And finally, my absolute favorite line and perhaps my favorite song lyric of all time:

Summertime girls are the kind I like,

I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike. (BEST.PICKUP.LINE.EVER)

I wouldn't be surprised if the next Rockie's game I went to, LFO made a comeback and was Brad Hawpe's intro song.

Vuvuzela Guy Cheers for Everything

The hands down best thing to come out of World Cup fever...



PURCHASE MAAAAAAAAAAAAADE!!!!

Creative Captcha

Hi. My name is GLittle and I have the maturity level of a 12 year old.

While working on the company Facebook page, I had to enter a security captcha code... You all know what those are. The squiggly, impossibly to read, what the fuck are they really for? annoyances that you find everywhere on the internet. Well here is the one I just saw. And I thought it was hilarious. In fact, I found it so amusing, I had to share it with the world.

I dare, no, TRIPLE DOG DARE you not to laugh.

Sickest shirt ever

I WANT:

And since I know you want to buy it for me, you can find it here.

Though I will say, there is something the grinds my gears pretty hard about this advertisement... The goofy smiles on these two's faces. They are not nearly as fierce as you need to be to rock a t-shirt with this level of coolness.

To prove why you should buy me this shirt, this is how fierce I would look in it:

BAM! Yeah, I know. Knocked the wind out of ya. Take a deep breath, grab your credit card, and go ahead and order one for me. You won't be disappointed.

Pretzel Fail

I can't decide if this grinds my gears or not... but it is a major fail. "What the fuck Rold Gold, how hard is it to make a pretzel look right?" OR "Woah. That's a cool pretzel."

Devil Kitteh

Wanna know what I did today?

This:

Devil Kitteh continues to grind my gears more and more everyday.

Julie is a bitch

You know who really grinds my gears?

Julie Powell.

Who's Julie Powell? Well many more people know who she is than she deserves. She is Julie from "Julie and Julia," the heartwarming true tale of a young wife who has never finished anything in her life and decides to cook all 524 recipes in Julia Child's cookbook in just one year.

Sounds like a nice snowy Tuesday night in, right? Well that's what my friend Kyle and I thought after we watched it while snowed in (on March 23rd... yeah, YAY Colorado... bleh). "What a great movie!" "Oh, I'm so sad she didn't get to meet Julia Child." Blah Blah Blah. Just two girlfriends sitting on the couch recapping a cute chick-flick....

Flash foward one day later. We both decide to do a little research on the whole thing because we wanted to make sure that Julie never met Julia. Turns out Julie has a second book out, about an AFFAIR she had while MARRIED to her cute, supportive husband! What a bitch! This chick is FUG too, I mean, she should feel lucky that one guy wants to pork her and not push her luck by seeking out extra attention. I hate her, she is selfish, obnoxious, and she hates America (I think....).

So what doesn't grind my gears is that Julie never met Julia because Julia would be ashamed that her name was being used in conjunction with such a filthy whore. SHAME on you Julie Powell, shame on you. Julia Child is a saint and to think you deserved to meet her or that your name should be mentioned in the same breath? It's absurd. Go guzzle some more cum, slut.

Yes. I'm angry about this one.

Cheese Fairy

Three months almost to the day and here I am, writing again.... I don't even know if this is the best outlet for what I'm about to tell you all, but I had to get this out there and this is the best forum I know.

You know what really DOES NOT grind my gears?

Apparently I have a cheese fairy!

I got up from my desk today to go get some tea (I have a bit of a sore throat today, though that's not really an excuse considering I do drink tea everyday) and when I returned there was a whole bag of Mini Babybel Bonbel cheese wheels! I don't socialize with very many people in my office so I don't think people really understand my love for cheese. I mean, the other day I went to a Spelling Bee(r) at a bar and on the sign up sheet they asked me what my favorite thing was and naturally I wrote cheese. I LOVE CHEESE. And I'm not afraid to say it. It's my one true love. It's never cheated on me, moved to Texas, or stared at another girl's ass. It's good to me, and in return I'm good to it. I love to eat cheese with pretzels, on sandwiches, in burritos, cheese in soup or even cheesy soup, I mean I can eat cheese on/with anything, even if it doesn't make sense to you laymen.

So this brings me all to the obvious conclusion of the mysterious bag o'cheese: I have a cheese fairy. And yes, it's ok to be jealous of me. I'm kind of jealous of me.

I dunno... I don't really like birthdays....

Don't call this a comeback because there's a good chance it will be another 5 months before I post again...

BUT you know what really grinds my gears???

People who "don't like" holidays, birthdays, etc.

I understand if you're a Jehovah's Witness (well strike that, I don't really understand Jehovah's Witnesses....) and it's because your religion forbids you from any form of celebration. Or perhaps you're 38, single, living alone with your 4 cats after your husband left you for his 21 year old receptionist and you hate Valentine's day. Or you're a rather short man with red bushy hair who has an affinity for top hats and green vests and you hate St. Patty's. I'll even give people who have speech impediments a pass to hate Talk Like a Pirate Day. But why hate Christmahanakwanzika? Or your birthday? Or any other joyous occasion that is an excuse to celebrate and be with those you care about?

So what that in Pop-Pop's Rum and Coke fueled bender he spilled red wine all over mom's antique lace table cloth. Or that you're turning 28, big woop. And I don't care that your birthday is over Christmas break and you always feel a little cheated that it's so close to that one guy, Jesus', birthday. And if you're my boyfriend? I want you to do something stupidly cheesy for Valentine's Day. Saying it's a holiday created by the greeting card industry is a cop out and it will not work with me. Otherwise, I'd like to reintroduce you to an old friend of yours, your right hand.

Your family is no less insane, dysfunctional, or dramatic than Tiger and Elin Wood's or more than the Cleavers. It's all relative (pun intended!! ha, get it?). And as my mother always said, you can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your family. So let your friends you "picked" throw you a birthday party, get your girlfriend her favorite flowers for V Day, dress up like Kate Gosselin for Halloween, and for allah's sake, make an effort to see your fam on TGiving/Christmas. Because the alcohol induced screaming, Go Fish playing, and snide remarks wouldn't be the same without you.

Peace and Love.

-GLittle

PS Happy Birthday Steve-O. Thanks for not hating today.

Moving is a bitch.

You know what really grinds my gears?

Moving.

If moving was a dude, I'd kick him so hard in the nuts, there would be no chance for procreation. You would think that since moving into the dorms as a bright eyed freshman and now I'm on my 13th move, I'd be a pro, aint no thang but a chicken wang, right? Wrong. Moving is a bitch. It's a big fat bitch. It's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world. If there ever was a bitch, it's the biggest bitch. It's a bitch to all the boys and girls. I have to have my shit done by the end of the night tonight or I'm F'd in the A. Bleh.

And for those of you who are in the same miserable situation, here's a tip: Don't put all your boxes in one box.

If you really love me...

If you really love me then you will buy me this t-shirt:

Statement Cookies

You know what really grinds my gears?

Statement Cookies.

What's a Statement Cookie you might ask? It's that little cookie at the bottom of your Chinese takeout bag that has a little piece of paper in it that is NOT a fortune. Instead of a something premonitory such as: "You will meet someone special soon." It says bullshit like: "You are a driven person, keep it up." Thanks Statement Cookie, I realize I'm a motherfucking driven person NOW, but I want to know what happens NEXT, like a FORTUNE Cookie is supposed to tell me.

Honestly I would prefer any fortune over a statement even if it was any of these (TRUE!) examples:

-You will be invited to a Karaoke party

-Your present plants will succeed

-A nice cake is waiting for you

-Don't kiss an elephant on the lips today

-You may attend a party where strange customs prevail

-You are going to have new clothes

-You will get a cat to lower your stress level

-You are going to get fat and lose your hair
-You will receive a fortune (cookie)

Keep it in the hourglass

You know what really grinds my gears?

Sand.

This is one of huge debate. I know a lot of people will claim my aversion to sand comes from growing up in a landlocked state with my closest body of water being the Rez... But I kind of feel that my reasons and scenarios in which I hate sand would apply regardless of where I grew up.

I don't know how else to explain it better than I did in a conversation with my friend and fellow *occasional* blogger, SO:

GLittle:

and as much as i hate sand, i feel like i should live by the ocean once in my life

SO:

you hate sand? what the hell is wrong with you?
i thought you wanted to be a beach bum

GLittle:
right. i like the ocean. but i just hate sand.
i mean i can usually put up with it
but i still hate it

SO:
i suppose you enjoy peanut butter and hate jelly
or love cheese but hate ham

GLittle:
like pb&j, hate ham

SO:
or tofu ham

GLittle:

hahaha no such thing

SO:

yet

GLittle:
true
i should invent it, make millions
then i can move somewhere exotic with sand and have someone put down some of that spongy stuff that all playgrounds are built on these days

SO:

ha

GLittle:
so when i get in and out of the water and i don't have to touch the sand

SO:
i think you should no longer be able to claim a love of the ocean if you hate sand. they are one in the same

GLittle:
i don't agree
i don't mind wet sand when i'm wet
and i don't mind dry sand when i'm not wet or clammy or drinking a perspiring beverage
but dry sand/wet body=hatred for sand
well and i hate sand down my shirt, in my shoes, anywhere else it catches.
dry sand, dry body

SO:

i hear there are these crazy new things called towels. they stop you from being wet, hence sand won't stick to you

GLittle:

BUT walking from the water to the towel, WHICH by the way is usually covered in dry sand, means i still get dry sand stuck on my wet body
Thus the playground spongy stuff is a perfect solution

SO:

i find that argument week and unconvincing

GLittle:

fair enough, i'm not trying to turn you off of sand. i never try to force my beliefs on others, but i stand by what i said. my name is GLittle and i hate sand.

*Footnote: The medical term for fear of sand is Eremikophobia. I don't have that. I can't even pronounce that. Ornithophobia? Perhaps... but I might go as far as saying GLittle isn't afraid of anything, so probably not.

Plain Clothed Ninja

Every now and then a person comes around and changes you. Today and for me, that person is Damien Walters. A man with the most amazing ninja skills I have ever seen. I salute you, Damien Walters, the plain clothed ninja extrodinaire!