Death Match! Lemon Style!

Minute Maid Lemonade beats Country Time Lemonade to a pathetic lemony pulp. Country Time, YOU FAIL!

Need to waste a fair amount of time? I'm here to help...

Adapted from one of those incredibly annoying email surveys:

I share a birthday with Ashton Kutcher, Garth Brooks, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Charles Dickens.

My favorite fruit is the mango, except I haven't been able to find a good one in 2 long years.

I support sex before marriage.

I'm not allergic to a single damn thing. Although somone onced posed the question "what if you're allergic to rhinos or some rare tropical flower? there'd be no way of knowing."

I'm not bisexual, but I have had at least one dream where I was. I also had a dream where I sprouted a penis and George W. Bush made me jerk off in someone's basement. That was not a good dream...

I have slept in other peoples' clothes, both men and women.

I've been to 5 US states, not counting the driving it took to get to all of those places.

I've never lived outside the US. Hell, I've never been outside the US period. Looking to change that.

I like the squiggly things in my eyes.

I like that I am a good judge of character and can play an instrument.

I don't have any pets. My dog was put to sleep more than a year ago (still miss her like crazy), but I've been thinking of getting a fish or a crab or something.

My dream car is....yeah, I don't know anything about cars. But whatever I end up driving, it'll be either silver, gold, or green.

If I could go anywhere, I'd go to Ireland.

I've had a boy sleep over.

I'm not bipolar....SO STOP ASKING, SHITHEAD! (get it?)

I don't care what car my future spouse drives. So long as it isn't a beater, station wagon, or pick-up. Motorcycles preferred.

No one's ever sang or played for me personally. I don't mind that. It's a little weird, and then you have to say you liked it, even if you didn't.

I've never been kissed under fireworks. (who comes up with these questions?)

I don't like President Bush.

I've never white-water rafted, although I came very close to doing it when I went on that retarded mission trip to the Appalachians my freshman year of high school (god did that trip suck). I was the only one who opted not to go because I was "sick." Meaning on the rag. Too much information? Get over it. It was 7 years ago.

A 40 year old guy hit on me once, when I was 16. It was gross and scary. I secretly liked it. I'm easily flattered that way.

I don't think I'm racist, but every once in a while I'll catch myself thinking something I oughtn't.

I don't have a favorite song. Or a favorite anything, really. I mean, Chas is my favorite landscape architect, and pistachios are my favorite nut, but that's about it.

I can't remember the last movie I watched. Does 6 hours of Entourage count?

The last place I went (besides my house) was orchestra. Before that, the grocery store, and before that, the GELATO PLACE!

I've never vandalized someone's property. "Don't start no shit there won't be no shit." (Not sure I've ever quoted hiphop before in my life...)

I've hit a boy before. Not really hard. This one time I accidentally slammed a boy's head in a doorway (heavy metal doors. sorry tyler). He was chasing me. This other time I accidentally got a handful of Brian's package during gym class. He was standing too close behind me and I swung my arm back a little too far. Thanks for taking it like a man. This other time in gym we were jumping rope and my bra clasp broke. It was most unfortunate and my gym teacher laughed at me later when she found out why I had left for no reason.

I'm not sure what the first thing I notice about boys is. But my favorite body part is the shoulders/back....and a nice stomach....good face doesn't hurt....oh hell, I like the whole damn thing and you know it.

I don't go to Starbucks.

I can bend my big toes back so far that the top of the toenail touches the top of my foot. Now THAT'S talent.

I'm the last person on campus to have gotten their first iPod.

A guy at the Mifflin St block party last year insisted that I looked exactly like some girl from the tv show "Thunder Alley," whatever that is. No one else knew what show or actress he was talking about. That's the only "celebrity" resemblence I've ever been told I have.

I have freckles, but didn't used to, really. All the ones on my shoulders I got in one day, when I put sunscreen everywhere but my back. I have a picture of that burn. I have some faded freckles on my face from that horrible football burn. Other than that just some miscellaneous ones on arms and legs, and a bigger one on my tummy.

I like my height, except when I'm around my mega short friends. Then I feel REALLY tall. (I'm 5'8")

I've never been in a limo.

No one really close to me has ever died. I hope it stays that way.

I don't watch MTV.

The cat annoys me, even if she has been spayed. She's still pretty stupid.

I really like the farmer's market, goat cheese, classical symphony concerts, diversifying my friendships, and getting my hair played with.

I don't like Michael Jackson and I've never been surfing. I don't plan on ever surfing, either.

I know how to pump gas, and I'm a pretty good driver.

The latest I've stayed out is till the next day at like 6pm. That's why the PLA boys call me a slut. Little do they know, I never get any booty when I crash at peoples' houses. *sigh*

I have thought I was close to dying. Really bad flu + severe dehydration = halucinations, spastic shivering, couldn't walk straight, eyes rolled back in my head.

I have been rushed to the hospital via ambulance (see previous paragraph).

I've never been dared to do something that I didn't want to do anyway.

Dammit All

Over spring break I had exactly ONE thing on my to-do list for when I got home: Say goodbye to Jim.

Jim is a retired man who bags groceries at Pick n Save. He originally started doing that to pay for a vacation to Arizona, then he just wanted something to do a couple evenings a week, and then he did it to pay for his move to Arizona (apparently the vacation went rather well).

He's one of the greatest men I've ever met in my life. He cares about people, is easy to get along with, and had always taken a special interest in me and how I was doing at college. He called me "young lady" more often than he called me Catherine.

When I left Sheboygan to come back for spring semester in January, I asked him if he'd be there over summer again. He told me that he'd be there for Easter, but will have moved to Arizona permanently by the time summer rolled around.

So I had planned to wish him bon voyage and thank him for being kind and pleasant to work with and wish him luck and maybe give him a hug or something. But I definitely didn't even set foot in that place over break. I'm hoping that he left a contact address with work so I can write him a letter at some point.

I hate when I screw up things that really matter.

Furthermore....

If I find out that anyone I know sees "Blades of Glory" I will disown you as a friend/acquintance/enemy/countryman.

If you willingly go see a Will Ferrel movie, YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! And if I get the slightest suspicion (and it will be only suspicion because I will NOT be seeing that movie myself) that anyone is quoting something from that movie, I have the right to punch you repeatedly in whatever gonads you possess. And I will consider it doing the human gene pool a big fat favor.

Fair warning.

It's ALIVE!!!

Well THAT didn't take long...ladies and gentlemen, Facebook has reached a whole new level of FUCKED UP.

It's getting scary now. The news feed on facebook is getting a little too creative and personal. Apparently someone I haven't talked to in a while is having relationship issues. (That's DEFINITELY not the point of this post. Don't leave yet.)

Here's what Facebook had to say about it:

"Rory Anne and David changed their relationship status to it's complicated....oh wait....in a relationship....oh wait....it's complicated again."

I'm also in that Oregon Trail group, and the news feed told me that one of MY non-existent oxen drowned when I tried to ford the imaginary river. ...What?!

And just in case you thought that Facebook might be bordering on the personified, they have started something called "live poke." That's right, they will get a real live Facebook minion to real live stalk you and real live poke you, at a friend's request. I really hope this is Mark Zuckerberg's idea of an April Fool's Day joke.

This all seems very "rise of the machines" to me. That said, I have just friended every "Kyle Reese" and "Sarah Connor" on Facebook and I suggest you do the same.