tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12820469882513024872010-03-14T08:26:13.765-06:00Things that just don't sit well with meGLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.comBlogger196125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-81010705302585950692010-03-05T09:17:00.013-07:002010-03-05T09:52:03.515-07:00Three 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.<br /><div><div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>You know what really DOES NOT grind my gears?</div><br /><div>Apparently I have a cheese fairy!</div><br /><div>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! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 298px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445189333371245330" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/S5Ey2U5W0xI/AAAAAAAAApQ/pqaBq4D6KHk/s320/babybel.jpg" />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.<br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445190049233653458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/S5Ezf_sQTtI/AAAAAAAAApY/C6PaGTFjhtc/s320/fairy.jpg" /><br /><div>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.</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-8101070530258595069?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-23683302638429446702009-12-08T14:22:00.012-07:002009-12-08T15:25:15.085-07:00Don't call this a comeback because there's a good chance it will be another 5 months before I post again...<br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412987479633785938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sx7Lbvk1dFI/AAAAAAAAAo4/dTH0o5z4xDU/s320/llcooljdj03.jpg" />BUT you know what really grinds my gears???<br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div>People who "don't like" holidays, birthdays, etc. </div><div><br /></div><div>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?<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 227px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412986949211719602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sx7K83mXB7I/AAAAAAAAAow/3rs_dTxSTIo/s320/christmahanakwanza.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><div>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.<br /></div><br /><div>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.</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 105px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 126px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412987695876398850" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sx7LoVJF3wI/AAAAAAAAApA/IUimYv5twh4/s320/nosepicking.jpg" /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div>Peace and Love.<br /></div><div>-GLittle</div><br />PS Happy Birthday Steve-O. Thanks for not hating today.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-2368330263842944670?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-74693884460873938112009-07-30T10:13:00.007-06:002009-07-30T14:21:30.740-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><br />Moving.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364350427792957378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SnIASuNQX8I/AAAAAAAAAoo/R_SDGUTWV5Q/s400/uhaul.jpg" border="0" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-7469388446087393811?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-40547250636709326052009-07-29T13:51:00.002-06:002009-07-29T13:52:32.090-06:00If you really love me then you will buy me this <a href="http://www.threadless.com/product/1960/Three_Keyboard_Cat_Moon#zoom">t-shirt</a>:<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363972258245905826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 272px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SnCoWW3MDaI/AAAAAAAAAoY/opQXY2sd8fs/s400/kitties.jpg" border="0" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-4054725063670932605?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-82127098658226482922009-07-27T11:39:00.005-06:002009-07-27T14:15:54.688-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><br /><div><div><div>Statement Cookies.</div><br /><div>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.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sm4KBjYpTNI/AAAAAAAAAoA/pTVydJhbeLY/s1600-h/fortune-cookie2.jpg"></a></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363236155530793042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sm4K3ijx0FI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/8_TEj4MKs60/s320/fortune-cookie2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Honestly I would prefer any fortune over a statement even if it was any of these (TRUE!) examples:</div><br /><div>-You will be invited to a Karaoke party</div><div>-Your present plants will succeed</div><div>-A nice cake is waiting for you</div><div>-Don't kiss an elephant on the lips today</div><div>-You may attend a party where strange customs prevail</div><div>-You are going to have new clothes</div><div>-You will get a cat to lower your stress level</div><div>-You are going to get fat and lose your hair<br />-You will receive a fortune (cookie)<br /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363235287262473330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sm4KFAAerHI/AAAAAAAAAoI/oCGrKAkViE0/s320/fortune_cookie_message082407a.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-8212709865822648292?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-4327371234737005882009-07-17T10:03:00.005-06:002009-07-17T10:41:47.688-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div>Sand.</div><br /><div>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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rez</span>... But I kind of feel that my reasons and scenarios in which I hate sand would apply regardless of where I grew up.<br /></div><div>I don't know how else to explain it better than I did in a conversation with my friend and fellow *occasional* blogger, <a href="http://www.steveohappenings.blogspot.com/">SO</a>:</div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">GLittle</span>:</span><br /></div><div>and as much as i hate sand, i feel like i should live by the ocean once in my life<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br /></div><div>you hate sand? what the hell is wrong with you?<br />i thought you wanted to be a beach bum<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">GLittle</span>:</span><br />right. i like the ocean. but i just hate sand.<br />i mean i can usually put up with it<br />but i still hate it<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br />i suppose you enjoy peanut butter and hate jelly<br />or love cheese but hate ham<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">GLittle</span>:</span><br />like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">pb</span>&amp;j, hate ham<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br />or tofu ham<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">GLittle</span>:</span><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">hahaha</span> no such thing<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br /></div><div>yet<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">GLittle</span>:</span><br />true<br />i should invent it, make millions<br />then i can move somewhere exotic with sand and have someone put down some of that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">spongy</span> stuff that all playgrounds are built on these days<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br /></div><div>ha<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">GLittle</span>:<br /></span>so when i get in and out of the water and i <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">don't</span> have to touch the sand<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br />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<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">GLittle</span>:</span><br />i <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">don't</span> agree<br />i <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">don't</span> mind wet sand when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">i'm</span> wet<br />and i <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">don't</span> mind dry sand when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">i'm</span> not wet or clammy or drinking a perspiring beverage<br />but dry sand/wet body=hatred for sand<br />well and i hate sand down my shirt, in my shoes, anywhere else it catches.<br />dry sand, dry body<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br /></div><div>i hear there are these crazy new things called towels. they stop you from being wet, hence sand won't stick to you<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">GLittle</span>:</span><br /></div><div>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<br />Thus the playground <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">spongy</span> stuff is a perfect solution</div><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;">SO:</span><br /></div><div>i find that argument week and unconvincing<br /></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">GLittle</span>:</span><br /></div><div>fair enough, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">i'm</span> 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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">GLittle</span> and i hate sand.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359466226370521586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SmCmIyCEqfI/AAAAAAAAAn4/qUY_wuVqdpU/s400/sand.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div>*Footnote: The medical term for fear of sand is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Eremikophobia</span>. I don't have that. I can't even pronounce that. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Ornithophobia</span>? Perhaps... but I might go as far as saying <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">GLittle</span> isn't afraid of anything, so probably not.<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-432737123473700588?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-6452176632525384962009-07-16T10:24:00.002-06:002009-07-16T12:07:31.376-06:00Every 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!<br /><br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5MeiwLLZjDo&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5MeiwLLZjDo&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-645217663252538496?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-62257736014203756622009-07-14T16:58:00.003-06:002009-07-14T17:32:43.912-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div>The fact that Brad Hawpe has a Nickelback song for his up-to-bat song.</div><br /><div>Here's a little diddy about Brad Hawpe and a Nickelback song....</div><br /><div>I was lucky enough to be able to attend two Rockies games this weekend and see three players who will be competing in tonight's MLB All Star game: The Rockies' Brad Hawpe and Jason Marquis, and Atlanta's Brian McCann. On Saturday night, I was sitting up in the 3rd deck eating a soft pretzel dipped in a cheese cup and drinking my 11teenth beer when I thought I might have heard what sounded like Brad Hawpe walking up to bat while Nickelback's "Rock Star" blared in the background. Fortunately I was 15 sheets to the wind and was able to push it out of my mind. </div><br /><div>Sunday, after obliterating my memory the night before, I settled into shaded, first deck seats with my brother and 92 year old grandfather with a new soft pretzel, new cheese cup, and this time a gigantic diet coke, hoping for a Rockies win. Low and behold Brad Hawpe approaches home plate and what do I hear in my hungover and pounding head? 'Rock Star' by none other than Nickleback. As you can imagine, this greatly upsets me. I explode at TLittle, "Are you fucking serious? Our All Star representative has a NICKELBACK song for his at-bat music? You've got to be fucking kidding me. No, this won't do. I will not let Brad Hawpe represent me, my team, and the whole goddamn state of Colorado if he listens to Nickelback." Then slowly, my ears began to bleed from Chad Kroeger beginning to belt out the few vowels and consonants he ever learned in his life... Not really, but it felt like it...</div><br /><div>TLittle tried to defend him by saying, "I don't know that that is really his song, sometimes they just play random music." I took this into account because we had already heard around six MJ songs. I settled back into my chair, absorbing the other batter's song choices. Obviously Todd Helton has a great country song and pleasingly Garrett Atkins had Timbland's 'What I are' playing as he approached the plate. I waited anxious and hopeful that when Hawpe came back around, the song playing would be anything, ANYTHING but Nickelback... alas, "We all just wanna be big rocktards etc etc other poetic lyrics" came playing yet again. I was crushed. Why Brad Hawpe? Why????<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358462626504799762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sl0VXlMGdhI/AAAAAAAAAnw/JbOMV-nwHyM/s400/nickelback21.jpg" border="0" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-6225773601420375662?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-23267720972706161132009-07-07T10:47:00.002-06:002009-07-07T10:53:31.138-06:00You know what really doesn't grind my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div>These Ninja parents. </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355761167624392290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SlN8Z-oVTmI/AAAAAAAAAno/3oVHYeNhsuc/s400/ninjas.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Don't worry. I'm not out of original material nor things that <em>do</em> grind my gears. I have just been lucky enough to stumble across a few gems as of late.<br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-2326772097270616113?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-54327045549229671472009-07-06T14:45:00.005-06:002009-07-06T14:50:40.891-06:00You know what really doesn't grind my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div>This T-Shirt:</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355451575706953234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 324px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SlJi1W3RphI/AAAAAAAAAng/ntpj-Tw3cb0/s400/tshirt.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div>My pal Young Leighzy pointed it out to me today. I was going to say that if any of you people loved me, you would buy it for me. But as I was writing this post, TLittle bought it for me. He's the coolest.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-5432704554922967147?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-36684874748666579332009-06-30T14:30:00.006-06:002009-07-01T10:23:23.808-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div>When other women try to socialize with me in the bathroom.</div><br /><div>When I go to the bathroom, or restroom, if you will, I am there for one purpose and one purpose only. No need to expand on what that purpose is you all get the idea. The majority of the time, I can go in there sit in my stall, come out, wash my hands, and leave. But I'm starting to notice an increase in those who want to make small talk, ask me questions, and even ask me to do something work related for them. Once a woman even dared to guess who I was while we were both sitting next to each other based on what shoes I had on! </div><br /><div>"Mary? Is that you next to me? I think those are your shoes!" </div><br /><div>"Fuck off lady, it's not Mary, and I'd rather NOT get into an awkward conversation with you about how fucking socially retarded you are for even trying that in the first place."</div><br /><div>At what point did the bathroom stop being a safe haven and retreat and start becoming a social atmosphere? And I'm not at a bar with friends and we're not gossiping about the stupid shit girls gossip about in the bathroom. No one is doing my hair or lending me cute super-glittery lip gloss. No. It's 2:30 in the afternoon. We're in an office building. Don't talk to me.</div><div><br />Girls, am I crazy? Does anyone else notice this trend?<br />Guys, has this ever been an issue?<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353244144558841026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SkqLL9BenMI/AAAAAAAAAnY/_K_uXN0l26c/s400/stalls.jpg" border="0" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-3668487474866657933?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-527928691643264102009-06-25T11:50:00.004-06:002009-06-25T14:49:28.548-06:00I have a dream that one day everyone will stop misusing you're, your, they're, their, there, were, we're, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">alot</span>, a lot, and act like we all have at least a middle school education. And that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">everytime</span> will finally be recognized as the real word that it is.<br /><br />I have a dream that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kanye</span> West and Luke Walton will fall in love, but due to the unfortunate and ridiculous fact that Americans are still not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">completely</span> OK with interracial, homosexual relationships, the two star crossed lovers will decide to give up all the fame and money for their love and move to France and stay there. Quietly. No basketball, music or blogging.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351370109875866482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SkPiwxzLS3I/AAAAAAAAAnQ/kv9BLOccLJA/s320/lukekanye.jpg" border="0" /><br />I have a dream that one day my kitty will stop being a psycho, attack-kitty bitch!<br /><br />OH I HAVE A DREAM TODAY!<br /><br />I have a dream that identical <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">twins</span> will unite across the planet with a message to us all that they have joined hands and decided to dress identically every.damn.day.<br /><br />I have a dream that hipster Mac users, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ultimate</span> tools, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">douchebag</span> McGee's, That Guy, Sarah <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Palin</span> look-alike Tina Fey, people who don't give <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">courtesy</span> waves, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">neo</span>-radical-progressive-hippies will all be sucked into a vortex and end up on Plant I-think-I'm-too-cool-for-you and stay there forever trying to out-cool each other all day, everyday. One day they'll all die off from exhaustion from coolness exercises and they'll never reproduce on Planet Earth.<br /><br />I have a dream that people will stop being so goddamn annoying and grinding my gears so hard (that's what she said) everyday that I walk this beautiful earth. And when that happens!!!.... you all will be sad because you won't have anything so hilariously funny to read 2-3 times a week. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ahhh</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">fucktarts</span>, it's not happening anytime soon... A girl can dream though, can't she?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-52792869164326410?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-6641983867908957632009-06-23T15:18:00.003-06:002009-06-23T16:46:02.150-06:00You know what <a href="http://www.reallygrindsmygears.com/2008/09/really-cap.html">STILL</a> really grinds my gears?<br /><br />The Rally Cap.<br /><br />Last night, at the Shady Pony softball game, a couple of my wonderful teammates thought it would be cute to don the Rally Cap at the top of the 7th inning when we were down by 6 runs. I told them they looked stupid because, well, they did. Then they told me I was fired from the Dark Horse. I responded: "YOU CAN'T FIRE ME! I QUIT!" But of course, they can't fire me, I don't even work at the Dark Horse....<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350658001436451922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SkFbGnI4pFI/AAAAAAAAAnI/7-WYq6PzyZc/s400/rallycap.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><div>Rally Caps even look stupid on babies. </div><div> </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-664198386790895763?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-80010007632232670662009-06-19T12:18:00.006-06:002009-06-19T13:35:32.310-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div>The Devil's advocate.<br /><p></div><div></div><div>No, not the movie. When someone says, "I'm just going to play the Devil's advocate here," they are pretty much saying, "I think your argument is faulty, I don't want to cause tension by telling you that, so I'm going to cover my ass with an overused term that pretty much means shit." If you really don't agree, sack up, grow some balls, and get into with me. Don't bring the Devil into it, it's you. And you are being fucking obnoxious.</div><br /><div>Now and again someone really does just try to 'play the Devil's advocate' by creating turmoil by bringing up something whether they agree with it or not. Now that's just arguing for the sake for arguing, which is just plain stooopid.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349123453894991618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SjvncMEfHwI/AAAAAAAAAm4/rCFtQ-AcQyA/s400/kitty.jpg" border="0" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-8001000763223267066?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-85987268894975310632009-06-15T15:06:00.009-06:002009-06-16T10:25:21.148-06:00You know what really grinds my gears???<br /><div></div><br /><div>Text message and instant message short hand.</div><br /><div></div><div>If I say: "What are you up to right now?"</div><div>And you say: "Jus chillen atm common ova"</div><div>I read it as: "Just chilling at the automated teller machine with the common ovaries."</div><div>I mean, I know that doesn't make sense. But for it to actually mean: "Just chilling at the moment, come on over." is shenanigans to me!!! Let's break it down:</div><div>Jus=Just: Ok, I can live with that because my 't' is a little sticky on my Blackjack II keyboard so my 'justs' occasionally turn in 'jus.'</div><div>chillen=chilling: If you HAVE to abbreviate, can't you abbreviate it properly by just dropping the 'g' instead of dropping the 'g' AND replacing the 'i' with an 'e?'</div><div>atm=at the moment: The first time I saw this one, I had to text the person back and ask what exactly atm meant because atm to me has always meant the machine that gives me money.</div><div>common=come on: Errrrrrg this one is awful on a whole different level because it is a perfectly good word being used as a retarded abbreviation for two different words that have no relation WHATSOEVER to the word in misuse. Common means ordinary, regular, general, etc. NOT come on. There aren't even two m's in come on!!! COME ON PEOPLE!!!!!</div><div>ova=over: Don't try to be gangsta and turn 'er' into 'ah.' It's just stupid.</div><br /><div>A few more abbreviations that get me scratching my head/pulling my hair out:</div><br /><div>LOL: Only use lol if you are actually lol'ing. Don't use it as an awkward way to try to add humor to a statement you've made. It's like an awkward giggle when you know you've said something stupid. Just don't say anything stupid that you need to cover up with an awkward laugh. That's the beauty of text and IM is that you have time to decide what you are going to write in order to avoid said awkwardness...<br />ROFL/ROLF: No one rolls on the floor and laughs past age 3. I like ROLF better because it's like "what you've said is so funny I'm going to ROLF rooooooolfffffff."</div><div>Sry: That's like a halfassed apology where you mutter it under your breath and don't make eye contact. Don't apologize if you don't mean it. And if you mean it, say SORRY.</div><div>2nite: Yuck, I'm not hanging out with you <em>tonight</em>.</div><div>Tho: <a href="http://www.reallygrindsmygears.com/2008/10/tho.html">Just read this</a>.</div><div>LMAO: LAME is how it translates to me.</div><div>R/U: Shortening a 3 letter word to a 1 letter word really just doesn't make sense to me.</div><div>NEWAY: You are really only dropping one letter, the 'a' AND you're adding an 'e' that doesn't need to be nor does belong there.</div><br /><div>I'm sorry people. I really must be the exception to this new language our laziness is reducing us to using. Because 80% of my friends (including the intelligent ones who read my blog) use shorthand. I plan on never stopping using full sentences, proper grammar, and correct spelling even if it is in the casual arena of text or IM. Because to me, there are some things I never want to see die out, like the polar bears, chivalry, blow jobs, and proper grammar.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347674174126114418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 371px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SjbBVANRRnI/AAAAAAAAAmw/OyBz2U65PCI/s400/phone.jpg" border="0" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-8598726889497531063?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-5578739073011601022009-06-10T17:14:00.002-06:002009-06-10T17:19:22.933-06:00You know what really greases my gears?<br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=Anq5Z5FqS0X6zKYHTZN2aD8jzKIX;_ylv=3?qid=20081223201649AAjh2qV">This thread</a> on <a href="http://answers.yahoo.com/">Yahoo! Answers</a></div><br /><div></div><div>A Ninja contemplates joining the church of Pastafarianism..... Great read.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345842405865393842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SjA_WDrTjrI/AAAAAAAAAmo/YGv16EzaNGA/s400/ninja.jpg" border="0" /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-557873907301160102?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-73287864555500173732009-06-09T09:54:00.006-06:002009-06-09T10:27:45.730-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><br /><div><div><div>Pop Song Titles.</div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Si6LR00aZVI/AAAAAAAAAmY/1b7qQtsiyoM/s1600-h/CutItOutFullHouse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345362946087871826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Si6LR00aZVI/AAAAAAAAAmY/1b7qQtsiyoM/s320/CutItOutFullHouse.jpg" border="0" /></a>Some song titles have intriguing origins, for example, it's interesting to learn that Eric Clapton's 'Layla,' and 'Wonderful Tonight," and George Harrison's 'Something' were all inspired by the same woman, Pattie Boyd. But when I found out that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Alanis</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Morissette's</span> rage filled, fuck yeah song, 'You <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Oughta</span> Know' was written about Full House's Joey aka Dave <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Coulier</span>, I was pissed. Popeye impersonating Joey?!? CUT IT OUT!<br /><br /><div>Here are a few more examples of strange Pop song titles and where I suppose they might have come from....</div><br /><div>'Boom Boom Pow' - The Black Eyed Peas: Clearly, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">BEP's</span> are avid Batman comic fans</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345362890266780930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Si6LOk3oJQI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/vFj3KPdHAuk/s320/batman_dark_tomorrow_pow.jpg" border="0" />'If U Seek Amy' - Britney Spears: I've yet to even hear this song and I'm going to keep it that way. I refuse to support anyone that obviously didn't pass third grade grammar class... 'U' does NOT equal 'You.' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">argggg</span>...<br /><br /><div>'My Life Would Suck Without You' - Kelly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Clarkson</span>: It's for Simon. Kelly's life would suck without that angry, yet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">lovable</span> Brit.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345363028831787538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Si6LWpEGWhI/AAAAAAAAAmg/3DRsh8bfVAU/s320/simon_cowell.jpg" border="0" />'Speed of Sound' - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Coldplay</span>: How fast Chris Martin can write a song once he's decided which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Radiohead</span> song to rip off.<br /><br /><div>'Let's Get it On' - Marvin Gaye: Why can't all song titles be straight forward <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">like</span> this one? So clear and to the point. No beating around the bush, let's just get it on. Like my favorite pickup line: Nice shoes, wanna fuck?</div><div> </div><div>How about you, loyal readership? Any song titles that grind your gears???</div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-7328786455550017373?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-29739029451201277422009-06-05T10:21:00.007-06:002009-06-05T14:26:38.419-06:00You know really grinds my gears?<br /><br />Those Sobe Lizards.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343883298501003138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SilJjABLh4I/AAAAAAAAAmA/xEEtRQeg01o/s320/sobelizards.jpg" border="0" /><br />Anyone else think they're pretty creepy? Plus, lizards don't dance. And I feel like if they did, they'd be better dancers than the Sobe Lizards.... Also, I think the whole lizard spokesperson market is already adequately filled with the Geico Gecko. That gecko is classy, polished, believable, and eloquent. Why yes Mr. Gecko, I <em>would</em> like to spend 15 minutes or less to save over 15% on my car insurance. Whereas the Sobe Lizards resort to having the always angry maniac <a href="http://www.reallygrindsmygears.com/2008/10/it-wasnt-me-it-was-terrorists.html">Namoi Cambell</a> make cameos in their commercials. I used to like Sobe, now I see it, think of the lizards slithering around the bottles hissing and dancing like 12 year olds in their first hip hop class, and I turn to Vitamin Water formula 50. Because even 50 Cent has more brand appeal than those weird-ass chameleons....<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343883434159676130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SilJq5YumuI/AAAAAAAAAmI/MU6A97puEv4/s400/50cent.bmp" border="0" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-2973902945120127742?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-45235099772251614482009-06-01T09:28:00.024-06:002009-06-01T10:07:38.836-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><div><div><div><div><br />Boys.</div><div><br />Yeah. I'm doing it. Boys are stinky, rude, disgusting, immature, cheaters, etc the list could go on and on. And don't worry, this isn't my way of coming out to all of my friends, I still like the peen.... I just need a MAN. Uhhhh (na na na na). That's right, I need a man, a mighty fine man.</div><div><br />So guys, here, in no particular order, are the prerequisites for dating me, if you think you can hang. Which I don't think any of the 10 of you who said you loved me so much you want to marry me could:<br /></div><div></div><div><p>-Must be 25+</div><div>-Must have own car</div><div>-Must not live with parents</div><div>-Must be taller than me (Don't want any Tom Cruise-Katie Holmes bullshit going on)</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SiP3vw4F5eI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/Lh6U4Liyd0g/s1600-h/TomKat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342385982937621986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SiP3vw4F5eI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/Lh6U4Liyd0g/s400/TomKat.jpg" border="0" /></a>-Must have soul (No gingers)</div><div>-Must shower on semi-regular basis</div><div>-No heady crystals craziness<br />-Must be able to out-drink me in a drinking contest/a regular night</div><div></div><div>-Must never drink martinis in martini glasses in public (order it in a Tom Collins if you absolutely must)</div><div>-MUST love whiskey and be able to take shots, no chaser</div><div>-Must watch sports</div><div>*Poker, Gymnastics, Bowling, Cheerleading, and Billiards are not sports*</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>-Must know as much/more about sports than I do.</div><div>*Poker, Gymnastics, Bowling, Cheerleading, and Billiards are not sports*</div><div>-Must not be a Tar Heels fan</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342386676062166354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SiP4YG93HVI/AAAAAAAAAlo/969F-_FgFQs/s200/tarholes_large.jpg" border="0" />-Must not be a Raiders fan<br /><div>-Must not be a Huskers fan</div><div>-Must not be a Lakers or a Celtics fan</div><div>-Must not be a Red Wings fan</div><div>-Must be a boob guy<br />-Must love ninjas</div><div>-Must aspire to become a ninja if not a ninja already</div><div>-Must put up with the fact that I am obsessed with my evil fucking kitty</div><div>-Should have dog (not required, but a plus)</div><div>-Must be fantastic in the sack</div><div>-Must make me laugh til I cry or hyperventilate<br />-Must not get offended easily, or rather, must not get offended at all (ie dead baby/Helen Keller jokes)</div><div>-Must be ok with strange and frequent awkward moments</div><div>-Must not believe in any conspiracy theories: ie We never went to the moon, the Bush administration is behind 9/11, the Bible has a code that predicts everything, Michael and LaToya Jackson are the same person, etc</div><div>-Must have and use impeccable grammar</div><div>-Must use spell-check (but no love letters, those are creepy)</div><div>-Must not text, email, or IM in abbreviations</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> <p>Now, I know this is an intimidating list. But if you lack some criteria, here are a few things that I will allow to trump some shortcomings:</div><br /><div>-Just Timberlake similarities<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SiP5SV78GGI/AAAAAAAAAlw/Q02W9VxsTlg/s1600-h/JT.bmp"></a></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342387874320565138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SiP5d207Q5I/AAAAAAAAAl4/AK5HDtgM24k/s320/JT.bmp" border="0" />-Bomb ass pizza chef skills<br /><div>-World famous rockstar status</div><div>-Owner of some sort of championship ring - post high school</div><div>-Be as funny as my brother (ha, like that's possible)</div><div>-Be the exact opposite of everything on the list (because that's what I usually go for...)</div></div><div><br /><div></div><div>So.... My calendar's pretty open Wednesday-Friday. Any takers?</div><br /><div>Bah.... I'm going to be single for life..... </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-4523509977225161448?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-53542978006292034742009-05-28T12:46:00.005-06:002009-05-28T12:59:15.135-06:00What up yo's.... I'm hungover and lazy today but I still wanted to give my favorite people something to read this lovely Thursday. SO I recruited my pal Frenchie to write for me! Here it is, what grinds his gears:<br /><div><div><br /><div>Y knw wht rlly grnds my grs???<br /></div><br /><div>Vwls<br /></div><br /><div>F*ck Vwls! 1 knw GLttl s 4ll 4bt prfct grmmr bt f*ck hr! Vwls f*ckng sck. Thy thnk thy r dmn ymprtnt, bt wrng. Knwldg cn stll b pssd wth nne f thm. 1 knw wht y^r thnkn, "Y" s 4 vwl!!! Wrng "Y" s th trny f lttrs. Wnts t b 4 nrml lttr bt cnt, c4s pple 4bse t. shm n y'4ll. - frnchy ()t</div><br /><br /><div>(bt dubs, 4=a in a few instances... psh, the French)<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340950756431780818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sh7ealf4W9I/AAAAAAAAAlI/kGrWZYUF1bU/s400/NoVowels.gif" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-5354297800629203474?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-43783073960721870742009-05-26T11:59:00.008-06:002009-05-26T13:12:24.057-06:00You know what really grinds my gears???<br /><br />(mmmmm that felt good to type, it's good to be back)<br /><br />Luke Fucking Walton. (I figured if there's ever a time to post about him, it would be while the Lakers are playing my Nuggies in the Western Conference finals).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Shwwqs90z6I/AAAAAAAAAko/cOowqhMawGk/s1600-h/lukewalton.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Shwwqs90z6I/AAAAAAAAAko/cOowqhMawGk/s400/lukewalton.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340196768337678242" border="0" /></a>I'm not a violent person, although I do have a list of 5 people that I would love to punch in the face if given the opportunity. 1)Kanye West 2)Giada De Laurentiis 3)Jim Rome 4)Terrell Owens and of course 5)Luke Walton.<br /><br />My plan is to go to LA, make him fall in love with me (which won't be hard, with my charm, wit, Grateful Dead knowledge, and huge boobs) then he'll obviously want to marry me. Ne<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Shww4Q1bfxI/AAAAAAAAAkw/uFTFDPUDHVc/s1600-h/drevil.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 161px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Shww4Q1bfxI/AAAAAAAAAkw/uFTFDPUDHVc/s200/drevil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340197001304440594" border="0" /></a>xt step is to take a picture of him in a comprimising situation/position, blackmail him for ONE MILLION DOLLARS (or more...), get the cash, then release the photo anyways. Oh and then get an annulment and scrub my body with bleach to ensure I get rid of all the douchebaggery I might have contracted while being married to him. And punch him in the face. Yup, kick him while he's down.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-4378307396072187074?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-87502088571005335272009-05-21T16:56:00.010-06:002009-05-21T17:16:36.458-06:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/ShXdaroE64I/AAAAAAAAAkA/pfxq0AIywqY/s1600-h/puking+daisies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 236px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/ShXdaroE64I/AAAAAAAAAkA/pfxq0AIywqY/s400/puking+daisies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338416383774747522" border="0" /></a>Greetings rocktards. As you can see, I'm back. I needed to take a break, ya know, to test out positive thinking, but just as I was about to say the first genuinely nice thing I've ever said, I vomited daisies and puppy dogs. I'm telling you, those things go down way easier than they come up... So here I am, back and full of things that are grinding my gears. I'm swearing like fucking sailor and full of scorn so prepare yourselves my friends, prepare yourselves.<br /><br />And trust, things are going to get wet. Not in the dirty w<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/ShXdhm0Z0PI/AAAAAAAAAkI/Xe0fenzmJ7c/s1600-h/Kettler__Rain_Poncho_8947-990.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 168px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/ShXdhm0Z0PI/AAAAAAAAAkI/Xe0fenzmJ7c/s400/Kettler__Rain_Poncho_8947-990.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338416502743355634" border="0" /></a>ay (get your mind out of the gutter), more like the if you sit in the 1st to 3rd row at the Shamu shows at Sea World and you get splashed when the giant captive whale writhes around in a tank the comparative size of a bathtub kind of wet. Maybe you could sit in the 4th through back rows. But then I'd call you a pussy, so just get a poncho and take it like a man.<br /><br />Posts will start again Tuesday, May 26th. Get ready.<br /><br />OH!!! And ps answer the poll you idiots.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/ShXdrplKwcI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/MJhf5ZuB2Lc/s1600-h/i%27mbaaaack.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/ShXdrplKwcI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/MJhf5ZuB2Lc/s400/i%27mbaaaack.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338416675283452354" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-8750208857100533527?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-68028671972788596702009-03-15T17:18:00.005-06:002009-03-15T17:28:37.291-06:00You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><div><br /><div>Bob Knight saying that women shouldn't be on the men's tournament selection <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">committee</span> and vice <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">versa</span>. "That really needs to be taken care of right away."<br /><br />His thinking is that women pay more attention to women's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">basketball</span> and men pay more attention to men's basketball. PLEASE. I haven't watched a single women's college <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">bball</span> game all year and have watched over a hundred men's games. I can't tell if he's sexist, ignorant, or just OLD. Bob Knight, I knew you were an asshole, I didn't realize you were a woman hater too.... <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313560028913166786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 375px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/Sb2OsaAVacI/AAAAAAAAAjw/AK6B3A-_Zuc/s400/bobknight.jpg" border="0" /><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-6802867197278859670?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-88099243119897199242009-03-11T11:05:00.003-06:002009-03-11T11:09:38.819-06:00Here's a joke for you, my friends:<br /><br />Have you heard the OctoMom special that Denny's is running?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v5bubmgPUYY/SRRPF5HcXiI/AAAAAAAABso/lTe2dAi6c8M/s400/Octo-Mom+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_v5bubmgPUYY/SRRPF5HcXiI/AAAAAAAABso/lTe2dAi6c8M/s400/Octo-Mom+1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />It's 8 eggs, no sausage, and the guy behind you pays for it.<br /><br />HAHAHAHAHA. oh man. hilarious.<br /><br />What? You've heard that one? Well there were two muffins sitting in the oven. Muffin #1 says to Muffin #2, 'wow it's really hot in here.' Muffin #2 says, 'HOLY SH*T! A TALKING MUFFIN!!!'<br /><br />:)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-8809924311989719924?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1282046988251302487.post-17765857803802135772009-03-10T15:06:00.004-06:002009-03-10T15:23:50.567-06:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SbbZTveupQI/AAAAAAAAAjY/jrPpHdRhl_k/s1600-h/tpastrana.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SbbZTveupQI/AAAAAAAAAjY/jrPpHdRhl_k/s400/tpastrana.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311671743716173058" border="0" /></a>You know what really grinds my gears?<br /><br />The new-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ish</span> ability to "like" something someone does on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Facebook</span>.<br /><br />Yeah, yeah, gimme a break, another <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Facebook</span> post, but if your job was to teach grams and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">gramps</span> how to set up and use the dang <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">thang</span>, then you too would know every intricacy of Mark <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Zuckerberg's</span> book of faces and things would certainly grind your gears as well.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Anywho</span>, I like the ability to comment on something someone 'does' on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Facebook</span>, it makes sure that your comment is directed at <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> funny status, not the sad one you posted yesterday about your roommate's kitty eating your beta fish (hasn't happened yet, good girl kitty!). But <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Zuckerberg</span> and crew recently added the ability to 'like' something, by giving it a thumbs up. First of all, thumbs up is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">soooo</span> dorky, Travis <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Pastrana</span> and I are the only ones who can pull it off and make it look cool. And second of all, it's too basic! Thumbs up. So you liked it? What did you like about it? That you had a similar experience? Or what? It's just plain lazy! It's like if your buddy cracks a great joke, are you just going to look him straight in the eyes, not even give him a smirk, and throw your big, dumb thumb at him, huh? Are you? No of course not! That's not the kind of reaction he expects, rather, yearns for and you know that. So people, if you absolutely feel the need to 'like' something, throw in a comment about why you 'like' it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Geesh</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SbbZp3FwK7I/AAAAAAAAAjg/VlKAiOHsoPg/s1600-h/fblike.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 440px; height: 89px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ih5OimxGNNo/SbbZp3FwK7I/AAAAAAAAAjg/VlKAiOHsoPg/s400/fblike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311672123716021170" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1282046988251302487-1776585780380213577?l=www.reallygrindsmygears.com' alt='' /></div>GLittlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09504964433494379070noreply@blogger.com4