All that separates a barbershop chair from a bar stool is an arm rest. (I don’t really think that means anything– I just wanted to point it out.)

SSSSSUCK IT, SSSSSSUNNNNN!

I cannot believe with what persistence the sun is trying to melt me. NAY, to melt US! Clearly what we need here, folks, is to team up and kick the sweltering ass of that burning-bright-beast! Ah… On second thought… perhaps what we need is a sacrifice… to the Sun… Perhaps it’s mad that we’ve bottled and consumed so much of it in it’s liquid form, more commonly known as “Sunny D”, and it is punishing us until we right this universal wrong. NASA, COME BACK! We need to launch every single, solitary, salty, sweet, sip of Sunny D into orbit, preferably in the direction of the Sun, so that the Sun may consume himself and feel right again.

That sounds like a lot of work, so I’ll leave it up to the professionals… whoever you are. I’m just the idea-man– Yuh-welcome. For now and the rest of the afternoon, I’ll be focusing all of my energy on figuring out how to make my freezer explode with endless snow possibilities. If I’m a success, to the locals, yuh-welcome to come play in my snow. If I’m a failure, to the locals, yuh-welcome to come play in my sauna house.

Later,
Kater

SPAYWAD is what every band manager and booking agent dreams of. They’re different, better, special in all of the right ways. SPAYWAD is a progressive, electro-krunk cover-cover band– they only cover songs which UB40 has previously covered. I know. You were just saying how you wanted to start a UB40 cover-cover band. Sorry dudes, YOU GOTTA BE QUICK in this biz. They did it first. Cutting edge as the six-bladed razor your mom uses to shave your dad’s back hair, these ladies get up-close, personal, and in your face while somehow remaining mysterious and distant leaving you craving more.

Asphalt (the self-proclaimed lover of roads) sports a bandana (EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.) (Is that dedication or what?!) on which she has written what she believes to be the secret to her success, “DEDICATION.” (You totally didn’t see that one coming… ya know… cuz I had like JUST used the word dedication. GOT YA.)

MASH (the self-proclaimed potato lover) told me once that “If there’s no gravy, there’s no point.” Believe it or not, she ain’t just talkin’ bout potats y’all. She’s right. I took it to heart, and I’ll never forgit it. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tattoo it somewhere you can see it… not like your back… since you can’t see your back… not your forehead either or on your tongue… unless you can stick your tongue out really far so you can see it… in that case… go ahead get it tattooed on your tongue… but JUST THE TIP!

These two ladies were the platform of my BM success– surely, you can see why. My BM style is lax, but I stay on top of shit. (BTW)

If you’re at all interested in bringing me on to BM you, represent you, book you, promote you, have you, hold you, then please don’t hesitate to contact me.

Git on my gravy boat.

http://www.shititsaghost.com

Enjoy!

SIDE NOTE: Today, a Jenna found a book called “I SHUDDER AT YOUR TOUCH: 22 TALES OF SEX AND HORROR” and for some reason did NOT make that purchase. #questioningourfriendship

As you may or may not know, Thursday evening at MIDNIGHT, my near and dear and ever-so-loving boyfriend will be turning 71. As it is both a duty and a pleasure, as his girlfriend, to go out with him to celebrate this once in a lifetime occasion, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind allowing me to roll my still-drunk-ass on into work around lunch time Friday morning?

I would very much appreciate the opportunity to celebrate as well as to ensure the safety and well-being of this young-at-heart manfriend of mine.

Regards,
Employee

This was Tuesday, by the way, when I wrote the letter. The celebratory festivities took place that Thursday evening. (And thank goodness I asked for the morning off and thank goodness my boss gave it to me!) WE PARTY HARD. Andrew W.K. would be so proud.

I know what you’re thinking, LADY… HE’S OLD. To which I say, “Dudes, did you really think I would meet a hip, young thing playing ONLINE BOGGLE?” Nope. I suppose it’s possible–for the boyfriend, it was possible (I mean… HELLO.) Anyway, my snickerdoodlepuddin’pop turned 71! Happy Birthday Baby! (I know your nurse reads my blog posts to you sometimes!)(NURSE DO NOT READ THIS PART ALOUD: TODAY IS THE DAY WE SWITCH OUT THE SALT WITH THE LOW-SODIUM SALT SUBSTITUTE! I LEFT THE BAG IN THE THIRD CABINET ON THE LEFT SIDE OF THE SINK. BE SNEAKY PLEASE. THANK YOU.) Continuing on, for my baby’s birthday I rented out the entire Medieval Times for just the two of us, which sounds awesome, but what I didn’t realize is that when you rent the location, that does not include any knights, princesses, wenches, or kings. It was the two of us sitting in basically a giant rodeo arena with laser lights. No, No, Medieval Times (I know you guys read this too), I did not use YOUR laser lights (obviously I would have paid for that.) I used my own. No big deal. In addition to travelling with a conch shell in my bag, I also make sure to have a variety of laser lights on my person at all times because YOU JUST NEVER KNOW. My Boggleboy’s birthday is a PRIMO EXAMPLIO. Though I did not hire out any Medieval Times faculty/staff, I did, however, rent the ENTIRE CAST OF PUPPY BOWL!

It was the perfect birthday celebration– us, dinner, Medieval Times, lasers, puppies. OH, and LOTS AND LOTS of ALCHOHOL. OOPS. I mean CAKE!

*NOTE: After I finished this blog, I Google image searched “nu salt” TWO things came up: pictures of nu salt (duh) AND pictures of LASERS! –which means the universe like aligned or something! yiiiiiiiiiiiiikes!

Occasionally (every time), I host trivia, I get hit-on. Some of you may be thinking, "Oh how nice!" or "Oh, delightful!" (if you happen to be Mrs. Doubtfire) or "Jeez, you cocky bitch." Maybe you're all right, a little.

There are various ways in which people attempt to ask me out. The classic is to write something on the answer sheet other than the answer or, if you're smart, in addition to the RIGHT answer.

Here are some real and true and favorite tactics that have been attempted (I WISH I could say I was making ANY of these up. I'm not.):

-Writing your number in place of the answer, with the ever-so-unique, "CALL ME!"
-Writing "You have a nice hair."
-Drawing a picture of boobs.
-Requesting the song "Kiss from a Rose" by Seal. (Clearly you have intentions.)
-Folding your answer sheet into an origami thing with your number on the inside of it– swans, flowers, and boats are acceptable. Fortune tellers, t-shirts, and rings are not.
-Sending over a dish of bread pudding, rather than a beer. (It gets you noticed for sure.)
-Stealing the microphone from me to yell "SPRING BREAK!" and then asking me to do a shot out of your bellybutton. (the latter of which, I am not necessarily opposed to…)
-Making me a balloon animal of a naked man. (yikes.)

What do you say when someone attempts any one of these "moves" on you? My current reaction is to say, "Thaaaaaaanks." and then I throw a quarter or a ball of foil if I happen to have any. I've heard shiny objects distract people… so far, so true.

serrrsly y’all.

What brought my boyfriend and I together was not only the fact that we’re both rad-ass online Bogglers, but the fact that we both have rad-ass online Boggle user-names. (You see, for those of you who haven’t played, in the exciting world of online Boggle, you may express yourself creatively or not-so-creatively through your user-name. Yeah dude, you totes get a user-name. It’s awesome right?) So, I was playing with the user-name “JonahHill” and he was playing as “DaBaby.” Naturally, we were inclined to chat with each other. We hit it off and decided it appropriate to meet up. I tell him it’s customary to bring a gift to a lady at a first meeting, especially if he intends on having a future of any sort with her (duh.) (Dudes, if you haven’t been doing this, you better start now.)

So, the date arrives (on television once, they dubbed the word “arrive” and variations thereof over everytime the word “come” and every variation thereof was used. I thought it hilarious.) We met at a Starbucks (most successful relationships start at a Starbucks– I’m fairly sure.) He immediately handed me my gift. It was this– http://www.brandonbird.com/adventure_set.html SUCCESS! He nailed it.

I’m a very lucky girl to have met someone who knows and understands me so intuitively.

“bonerousity: bein generous with yo boner”

or

“there was totally a piece of cheese caught in my earring. i love my life.”

or

“you can’t ask for ammo for your glue-gun. you have to ask for glue-sticks.”

for more gems from my day-to-day,
check out– http://www.twitter.com/katesmccann

(Ok, Ok, Ok I’m a liar.  I DID fall asleep with my computer in my bed but did NOT dream I was the internet.  I determined who/what was in my dream with Google search trends MOSTLY because I’m trying to drive some dang traffic to my dang blog y’all.  Don’t hate.  You’d do it too, if you had thought of it.  GOLD.  Just. Gave. You. GOLD.  So, like I said I DID fall asleep with my computer in my bed, but rather than dreaming I was the internet, in my head, in my sleep, I just kept picturing my computer exploding into flames and the headline that would read thereafter:

Thought You Could Sleep With  Your Computer? Think Again.

That’s just off the top of my head.  I mean I’m no journalist, but I imagine the headline would read something like that.)

(Also, you would THINK that me knowing this in my sleep– having this fear of my computer exploding into flames in my bed and killing me would be enough to make me wake up and do something about it.  Apparently the way logic works in my sleep is that SLEEP > DEATH BY COMPUTER EXPLOSION.  Oh well, I made it, although, I do feel like I need to have a very serious talk with my-sleep-self.)

———————————————————————————————————

I finished school in May and have moved in with my parents.  Currently my father is in the living room watching C-SPAN at a VERY LOUD VOLUME.  They’re discussing monetary policy.  I can’t help thinking at some point that one of them will stand up, tear off their wig, and say “…CAUSE IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!”

I was going to embed a video into this blog of this exact event.  I’m certain that at some point there was a show intro with this exact situation, so in trying to find it, I Googled “Saturday Night Live Intro” and happened upon a dialogue between Dennis Miller and the character George Michael played by Dana Carvey.  I thought I would share this quote with you because I think we can all identify with it:

George Michael (Dana Carvey): “You fear my butt because you don’t understand it. You resist it like all others before you, yet its power only grows…”

I know everyone enjoys having a quote of the day, let that one be yours.  PLEASE.  Write it on your mirror, on your office breakroom wall, on a Post-it.

Quotes of the day are good for us.  They can be inspirational, thought-provoking, humorous.  They should cause one to reflect and should be kept in mind throughout the day and lived by.  Today, try to encourage your butt’s power to grow.  Don’t stifle it.  Who knows what your ass is capable of, or what you, by extension, are capable of through the power of your butt.