The Barnes and Noble Experience..

I'm not sure if it's just me, or if it can be actually scientifically proven, but I think people go to Barnes and Noble just to use "number 2". It never fails that every time I go into the bathroom someone is occupying the stall and not holding anything back. I think there could be a correlation in the fact that it's a book store and people associate books with defecating. They walk into the store and may not do it consciously.

It's a reflex inside of their body. They see the books and smell the paper and just simply cannot help themselves. Their brains automatically fire off a few synapses to their digestive tract and say "Hey guys! It's time let's get it started we're in Barnes and Noble!" and off they go! Of course I have no proof that women are like this although I like to think they are.

I could be wrong though, everyone in Barnes and Noble could have contracted some bacterial disease from the doorway. Or maybe they contracted some rare Indian disease on their last trip to India (because people where I live go to India often...let me tell you! They're just itching to use those frequent flyer miles to go there!)

Regardless of the reason behind the defecation, it's clear that Barnes and Noble is a pretty frequent spot for it. They just can't help themselves they just HAVE to when they walk in. They're like "oh might as well grab a book while I'm out here". Think about that the next time you're picking up your latest Nicholas Sparks novel (gag). You could be picking up someone's inspiration to clear themselves out! Puts a new spin on things in my eyes....

No you should not try out for American Idol....

So I actually managed to break out of my jail cell computer room and actually go do something real people do. I talked myself into taking a shower and getting ready which took probably longer than it should have. Finding clothes seems to be a problem for me because I forget where I put them after they come out of the dryer. My closet (despite the number of hangers) remains relatively empty because it is such a hassle to take clothes out of the dryer and de-crumple them and THEN put them on a hanger. There are too many steps and somewhere along the line I get distracted by something on the floor or my phone goes off. The clothes simply stay on my bed until I fall asleep. While I'm sleeping I tend to kick them, shove them, abuse them, drool on them, and they eventually all wind up somewhere completely different. However, it never fails the first place that I check for clothes is my closet. I'm always surprised to see that they're never there. Anyway, I found clothes and got ready and then proceeded to go eat at a fancy restaurant where they serve chips out of a gigantic trash can.

All was swell and they even sat us in the posh VIP room (the room that no one sits in and you get ignored [more on that soon])! So we waited....and waited....and waited until Paco came and took our orders. The people behind us were so polite! They seemed to be very angry at the fact that someone had church on a Thursday night. I don't mean like "Oh hey that's kind of stupid" angry I mean like "WHAT?!? CHURCH ON A THURSDAY THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS(if they knew that word) I'M WRITING A LETTER TO MY SENATOR" kind of angry. The angry customer then made a remark "I DON'T BELIEVE IN GOD". Thank you kind stranger for sharing your religious beliefs with the entire restaurant because yes that IS in fact what we want our conversation to revolve around while eating quesadillas.

Everything kind of fell quiet sort of like after someone makes a really inappropriate joke that no one thinks is funny not even the person that told it and you kind of have this "oh...." moment. Although it was kind of quiet, I wasn't complaining, I could actually eat my food and not have to listen to the high pitch shrill of the girl behind me UNTIL....she broke out her cell phone and starting listening to her ringtones. I was like oh okay...so let's add a soundtrack to my evening that's very nice of you. So apparently listening to it was not enough, she felt the need to sing her full blown bar karaoke rendition of the ringtones...at this point I was like Paco? Where is Paco. . . .Pacoooo?! You're not Paco.

Well...Paco never came back...his friend Jose did though...and thankfully Jose brought our checks. When we were leaving the girl was still putting on her show. I did not realize that when I went in to eat there that I was going to get dinner and a show, I definitely got my moneys worth.

Unfortunately random restaurant singing girl your voice wasn't very nice. In fact, it hurt my ears. I want to spare your feelings so that's why I'm telling you via blog instead of to your face. Please don't try out for American Idol.

My get rich quick scheme...

Apparently, when online websites advertise: “MAKE A GILLION DOLLARS IN A MONTH FOR TAKING SURVEYS” they really mean “Yeah…you can make that much but you have to take like double that amount of surveys…and that’s next to impossible”. I’m a “find out for yourself, even if you waste countless minutes from your life because really you have nothing better to do with your time at 1:15 in the morning because really no one’s up except Alyssa and although she’s amazing to talk to she doesn’t pay me” kind of person. While listening to a cheesy audio track play over and over and over and over and did I mention it was on repeat, I only managed to gather that I could instantly become rich for taking online surveys. Hello Landrover.

I filled out numerous forms with the same questions over and over, however I got the occasional interesting question like: “Would you like a chance to win $3,000 in hair removal?”. Answer? No. I don’t think I even have three thousand dollars worth of hair and I would rather not have it removed by laser off of my body. This immediately puts a mental image of some high tech alien technology sending tiny beams of super focused light into my hair follicles and disintegrating them. I like my hair follicles a little too much to put them through such emotional trauma. Where was I?

Oh yeah. After filling out ONE form, ONE, not fifteen, my inbox was swarmed with countless emails, so I was thinking YES! I’m on my way! No. I was wrong. Again. I didn’t even qualify for half of them. My attention span didn't last much longer and I ventured off to lurk Twitter and watch mind numbing Youtube videos. I'm still working on surveys as they email them too me. It may be too early to say this but I think my office hours are going to be 12 a.m to 5 a.m because that seems to be just about the time that I'm wasting my life away answering meaningless questions about someone's new product that they're paying me fifty cent to fill out "valuable consumer information".

EDIT UPDATE:

Most of my surveys have been sent to the spam folder due to my lack of attention span. I currently have 1,256 spam messages. Most are surveys.

Every blog starts with...

...a really corny introductory post entailing all that you could ever possibly want to know about what the blogger is going to be posting and maybe even personal facts that no one really has any interest in knowing but is forced upon you for no reason! So here I go. I will blog mostly about. . .nothing, my goal is to kind of give you an insight into how I perceive daily situations or anything that I think is kind of funny.

I'm a huge fan of run-on sentences and over punctuating, and it just so happens that when you put "over" and "punctuating" together like "overpunctuating" it's not a word! Who knew?! So if you're a grammar freak it's probably best if you navigate away from the page. Anyway, I have a rather short attention span and I'm notorious for jumping from topic to topic so that might keep things a little more interesting.

My thought processes are usually very detailed and they all happen within a few seconds of each other and really don't make a lot of sense but are easily conveyed through my intense wording skills. I feel like I should put "severe wording skills" on my resume. Who knows maybe I'll be hired by the dictionary.

Turns out..the dictionary is not hiring...I checked.