A little under two years ago, a Sunday School teacher accidentally said, "We need to acknowledge our farts" instead of "We need to acknowledge our faults." Ironically, he didn't acknowledge the fact that he just made a mistake and kept on teaching the lesson while Marriedin and/or his wife snickered because he and/or she is/are immature.
I have a hard time with fart humor, unlike some people. I don't know exactly why this is. In fact, I have a very difficult time even saying the word "fart" in front of those who are not my family. You can imagine how difficult this post is for me.
With my family, I have a whole different take on fart humor. In my family's company, I can crack them off with the best of them---fart jokes, I mean, not actual farts (that is a lie).
Last night I found myself in a very awkward situation in which I had the opportunity to acknowledge my fart but chose not to.
See, I was at Comedy Sportz with Viper after his show and we were sitting around with the rest of the guys in the show, and somehow, the conversation turned to blue darting. Stories were shared, laughs were laughed, and I must admit I was laughing, too. But I was laughing most of all because I had a secret. I secret that I couldn't let out. I had to hold it in me!
As everyone shared blue darting stories, Viper, in some horrific effort to include me in the group, asked me, "Have you ever blue darted?" Since everyone else was still laughing at the stories, I just continued laughing and looked away briefly, hoping that the question would be forgotten. When I dared to make eye contact again, he repeated, "Have you ever blue darted?"
I shook my head no. And may I be thrust down to hell for it!
You see, it wasn't so long ago, not so long ago at all, that I was home alone, relishing in the freedom that comes from completing finals. Sophie called and asked if she and a friend could stay the night at my place, which I thought was a great idea, except that in my solitude, I'd been relieving myself of the huge amounts of gas that my body was producing that day, and it must be said, they did not smell lovely in the extreme (you seriously have to understand that it pains me to even write this). I had a dilemma: Either I could start holding in all my farts for the next couple of hours so that the house could regain its normal smell (this was not a good solution for me since I was almost literally rotting inside), or I could light very smelly candles so that the scent could overpower my own scent and the flame could, perhaps, burn up some of the gas.
I took my blow-torch-like lighter and lit a candle in the living room. Then, I realized that I needed to fart. Well, it just so happened that I had the blow torch in hand already, and before I farted, it crossed my mind that I had never seen nor participated in blue darting before. It tends not to be an activity practised at female slumber parties.
I wondered if blue darting was supposed to take place with the pants on or off, but not wanting to ponder too long on it and waste my opportunity, I bent over, held a flame to my rear, and farted.
My pants caught on fire and I immediately stopped, dropped, and rolled. And after the flames were extinguished, I continued to roll on the ground, unable to stop laughing. All alone in my house. I kept wondering what would have happened if I had burned myself and needed to go to the hospital for it...
Now back to last night. I will admit that as soon as I got in the car with Viper afterwards, I confessed to him that I had lied and that I had, in fact, blue darted. The truth his, to him, I can acknowledge my farts. But I am still too prideful to acknowledge my farts to all the men at Comedy Sportz.
(And yet, here I am, acknowledging my farts to the Internet. This is obviously a huge step for me.)
What Once Was Lost...
I went to the BYU Lost and Found for the fourth time and finally found my computer cord. This is cause for rejoicing. But it also inspires me to write another story about lost and found.
WARNING: This story is about fake boobs. Stupidramblings need read no further!
Years ago, Captain Fabuloso was dating a girl who we'll call Red. She was great, and although I never thought she was a good match for Captain Fabuloso, I did think that she would make a great friend for me. I especially thought so after she got me a job at IS where I still work, five and a half years later. Red had some physical problems for which she sometimes had to take very serious medicine. While she was on this very serious medication, it was as if she was drunk. So one day, Captain Fabuloso took advantage of the situation to extract her most embarrassing moment. As her roommate cried, "No, Red! Don't do it!" Red shared her most embarrassing moment with Captain Fabuloso.
You see, it was all the more embarrassing because Captain Fabuloso had been present for the moment, but unaware of what was going on.
Red was a funny girl. During her whole lifetime (okay, maybe not the whole lifetime), whenever she made a bet with someone, she'd bet lingerie. In this way, she ammassed quite a collection of lingerie that she was saving for Some Day. She kept it in a box she called her Hope Chest and would add, "I only hope I have a chest when it comes time to wear it!"
She didn't have much up top. And so to supplement the little she had, she (or her mother?) purchased two little realistic inserts. They were little flesh-colored jellyish things complete with little nipples. And one evening, when she was going on a date with Captain Fabuloso and friends, she decided to insert her inserts.
The group went to Extreme Sports, a place where gladiator or sumo-like sports were played. I never went. All I know is that the activities there were, well, extreme. At one point, Red looked down and saw that one of her inserts was missing. She informed her roommates and they all started the search.
The men didn't understand why the women were spending so much time in the ball pit. They'd surface and laugh, and claim to be playing in the balls, and then they'd all return to the bottom of the pit, searching frantically for a little jelly insert.
They went to the cashier and asked if they had a lost and found, explaining that they'd lost something. The cashier asked them to describe the item. Red refused, demanding that the cashier simply allow her to look at the lost and found items and she would determine whether or not her lost item was there. Since she was insistent and scary, the cashier handed over the box and after looking she announced that the item was not in the box. She and her roommates continued looking for the item as inconspicuously as possible.
Eventually, a 16-year-old employee approached Red and her roommates, and said very lowly, "I think I've found what you're looking for. Is it a---" and here, he gave them a knowing look.
Red followed him to the counter. The 16-year-old brought her in behind the counter and there, on one of the lower shelves, was her insert, sitting nipple-side up.
"This is it!" Red exclaimed. Taking it, she pointed to her roommate across the room and said, "It's actually hers, but she didn't want to claim it. You know. She's embarrassed."
WARNING: This story is about fake boobs. Stupidramblings need read no further!
Years ago, Captain Fabuloso was dating a girl who we'll call Red. She was great, and although I never thought she was a good match for Captain Fabuloso, I did think that she would make a great friend for me. I especially thought so after she got me a job at IS where I still work, five and a half years later. Red had some physical problems for which she sometimes had to take very serious medicine. While she was on this very serious medication, it was as if she was drunk. So one day, Captain Fabuloso took advantage of the situation to extract her most embarrassing moment. As her roommate cried, "No, Red! Don't do it!" Red shared her most embarrassing moment with Captain Fabuloso.
You see, it was all the more embarrassing because Captain Fabuloso had been present for the moment, but unaware of what was going on.
Red was a funny girl. During her whole lifetime (okay, maybe not the whole lifetime), whenever she made a bet with someone, she'd bet lingerie. In this way, she ammassed quite a collection of lingerie that she was saving for Some Day. She kept it in a box she called her Hope Chest and would add, "I only hope I have a chest when it comes time to wear it!"
She didn't have much up top. And so to supplement the little she had, she (or her mother?) purchased two little realistic inserts. They were little flesh-colored jellyish things complete with little nipples. And one evening, when she was going on a date with Captain Fabuloso and friends, she decided to insert her inserts.
The group went to Extreme Sports, a place where gladiator or sumo-like sports were played. I never went. All I know is that the activities there were, well, extreme. At one point, Red looked down and saw that one of her inserts was missing. She informed her roommates and they all started the search.
The men didn't understand why the women were spending so much time in the ball pit. They'd surface and laugh, and claim to be playing in the balls, and then they'd all return to the bottom of the pit, searching frantically for a little jelly insert.
They went to the cashier and asked if they had a lost and found, explaining that they'd lost something. The cashier asked them to describe the item. Red refused, demanding that the cashier simply allow her to look at the lost and found items and she would determine whether or not her lost item was there. Since she was insistent and scary, the cashier handed over the box and after looking she announced that the item was not in the box. She and her roommates continued looking for the item as inconspicuously as possible.
Eventually, a 16-year-old employee approached Red and her roommates, and said very lowly, "I think I've found what you're looking for. Is it a---" and here, he gave them a knowing look.
Red followed him to the counter. The 16-year-old brought her in behind the counter and there, on one of the lower shelves, was her insert, sitting nipple-side up.
"This is it!" Red exclaimed. Taking it, she pointed to her roommate across the room and said, "It's actually hers, but she didn't want to claim it. You know. She's embarrassed."
Addiction
Sometime this weekend, likely during or shortly after the Priesthood session of conference, my mom and I had a little chat about nothing in particular. During our conversation's meanderings, we started to talk a little bit about finishing college and moving on with life. Mom said that she was reading about the fact that more and more men are finishing up college and moving home with their parents and not moving on with their lives. Women, on the other hand, also have a tendency to move home after college, but the women who do so tend to use it as a step to becoming independent. They take that time to save money and get settled, and then they move out and on with their lives. The men just go home and settle in there, content with not being married and content with not being out on their own. Mom said that it is much like the phenomenon in Failure to Launch.
We discussed why this might be. My mom reminded me that when I was in the Young Women program, my YW president had once taught a lesson about chastity and claimed that strong sexual urges are needed because men are lazy and without the need and constant desire to have sex, they'd never get married. So she (my mom) then suggested that perhaps men are staying at home because in today's society, sex is so casual and abundant that men can have sex without taking on the responsibility of raising a family. This was an interesting theory. [My mom read this post and really wants to make sure you all understand that she said this as a joke. She doesn't want you all to think that she's stupid!] Then I asked, "What about video games? Do you think they play a role? A lot of men can just start playing a video game and that fulfills whatever it is they're looking for in life. They simply can't unplug."
The moment I said it, I clicked on a colorful little bubble and ColorJunction informed me that my game was over. You see, the entire time my mother and I were having this conversation, I was playing an online game. Don't worry---I realized right away that my statement "They simply can't unplug" was ironic.
I've been thinking about games lately. Mostly because as school stress builds up, I'm wasting more and more time playing meaningless online games. Take ColorJunction, for example.
It's a tiny little game that sits on my personalized google homepage. It takes about a minute to play a full round. The problem is that then it takes you another minute to play another round and another minute to play another round, and another... well, you get the picture.
I've also been known to play Curveball, Snake, and Falldown. In fact, I have them all bookmarked. Recently, Viper sent me a link to the online version of a board game that we like to play. The board game is Carcassone. The online version is called Toulouse, because they can't infringe on copyright.
In case all that wasn't enough, once I realized I was playing lots of online games lately, I remembered Snood, the game I was addicted to my freshman and sophomore years of college. Back in those days, I got my mom addicted, too. I'd talk to her on the phone and suddenly start hearing Snood sound effects in the background. Conversations would go something like this:
Cicada: So. I think that he doesn't like me. I'm heartbroken. I mean, it just really hurts, Mom. You know? No, of course you don't know; you were married at my age. The point is, Mom, that I'm really sad and very---Mom? Was that Snood I just heard? Are you playing Snood right now???
So Snood. Yeah. It took me about thirty seconds to get readdicted.
All this leads me to wonder... Am I going to end up living in my parents' basement?
We discussed why this might be. My mom reminded me that when I was in the Young Women program, my YW president had once taught a lesson about chastity and claimed that strong sexual urges are needed because men are lazy and without the need and constant desire to have sex, they'd never get married. So she (my mom) then suggested that perhaps men are staying at home because in today's society, sex is so casual and abundant that men can have sex without taking on the responsibility of raising a family. This was an interesting theory. [My mom read this post and really wants to make sure you all understand that she said this as a joke. She doesn't want you all to think that she's stupid!] Then I asked, "What about video games? Do you think they play a role? A lot of men can just start playing a video game and that fulfills whatever it is they're looking for in life. They simply can't unplug."
The moment I said it, I clicked on a colorful little bubble and ColorJunction informed me that my game was over. You see, the entire time my mother and I were having this conversation, I was playing an online game. Don't worry---I realized right away that my statement "They simply can't unplug" was ironic.
I've been thinking about games lately. Mostly because as school stress builds up, I'm wasting more and more time playing meaningless online games. Take ColorJunction, for example.
It's a tiny little game that sits on my personalized google homepage. It takes about a minute to play a full round. The problem is that then it takes you another minute to play another round and another minute to play another round, and another... well, you get the picture.I've also been known to play Curveball, Snake, and Falldown. In fact, I have them all bookmarked. Recently, Viper sent me a link to the online version of a board game that we like to play. The board game is Carcassone. The online version is called Toulouse, because they can't infringe on copyright.
In case all that wasn't enough, once I realized I was playing lots of online games lately, I remembered Snood, the game I was addicted to my freshman and sophomore years of college. Back in those days, I got my mom addicted, too. I'd talk to her on the phone and suddenly start hearing Snood sound effects in the background. Conversations would go something like this:
Cicada: So. I think that he doesn't like me. I'm heartbroken. I mean, it just really hurts, Mom. You know? No, of course you don't know; you were married at my age. The point is, Mom, that I'm really sad and very---Mom? Was that Snood I just heard? Are you playing Snood right now???
So Snood. Yeah. It took me about thirty seconds to get readdicted.
All this leads me to wonder... Am I going to end up living in my parents' basement?
Police Beat
I heard a long time ago (but whether it was one year ago or several years ago, I can't remember) that Police Beat was taken out of The Daily Universe because people were purposely trying to get into Police Beat. Also because it was so comedic in nature.
Well, today, I happened to stumble across Police Beat on newsnet.byu.edu. And it must be shared. I have highlighted my favorites, but I will include comment on all entries.
911: 9-1-1 Emergency, this is Karen. What's your emergency?
Girls: We are in our dorm room in Helaman Halls and some projectile appears to be being launched at our windows.
911: Okay. Could you describe this projectile?
Girls: Not really---they're just coming at us real fast! Uh... they appear to maybe be wads. Wads of wet paper.
Well, today, I happened to stumble across Police Beat on newsnet.byu.edu. And it must be shared. I have highlighted my favorites, but I will include comment on all entries.
THEFT
1.1 Two jump drives belonging to sister missionaries serving in the HBLL Family History Library were stolen Monday. The two senior sister missionaries left the library around 6:45 p.m. When they returned at 7:15 p.m., the drives had been taken from the computers. The drives were valued at $30 each.
The thief obviously didn't have enough money to buy his or her own. See item 1.3.
1.2 A male student took a tray of Rice Krispie treats from the Cannon Center on Monday, Mar. 27, 2006. After identifying the student, police went to his room, where they found the tray of unopened Rice Krispie treats on the bed of the student's roommate, with a handmade sign stating "Welcome back."
Bwahahahahaha! I know that I used to sneak an apple or a banana out of the Morris Center back in my day, but the whole tray of Rice Krispie treats? That's brilliant. And the handmade sign stating "Welcome back"? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Was there a "P.S., sorry I missed you; they've taken me to jail" added to the end of the note?
1.3 A male student shoplifted a DVD valued at $9.99 from the BYU Bookstore on Thursday, Mar. 23, 2006. After being confronted by police, the student admitted to the theft and said he did not have enough money to pay for the item.
I'm going to admit it---sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I grabbed food in the Twilight Zone (as I often do), left the Twilight Zone to go to another area of the bookstore (as I often do), and left the store without paying? I don't think that anyone would catch me, because they don't know that I didn't already pay for the food. All I'm saying is that if this guy were smarter, he'd have stolen stuff from the Twilight Zone, sold it on the street for below market value, made $9.99, and bought the DVD legitimately. Duh. Food is so much easier to steal than DVDs.
Note: This author in no way endorses criminal behavior. Anything in this post that seemingly encourages illegal actions is simply a joke.
1.4 A video projector valued at $5,000 was stolen from 2074 of the WSC on Wednesday or Thursday.
This reminds me of an exerpt from Police Beat that a guy in one of my classes read earlier this semester where tens of thousands of dollars of equipment was stolen from the HFAC nad reported a year later. So mad props to whoever it is that reported this theivery in a timely manner!
HARASSMENT
2.1 A female student was berated by a male staff member after she parked in a handicapped parking space March 22, 2006. After pulling into the space in Lot 7, the staff member, who had a handicapped-parking permit, stopped his car behind hers and began yelling at her. He apparently did not realize that the student also had a handicapped-parking permit, police said.
What I wonder most here, is at what point did the police get involved in this? The situation is comical enough as it is, but how did the police get involved? Did the fight go on long enough that someone called the police, or did the police happen to walk by? Did either party start to beat the other with crutches? And how did the guy "not realize that the student also had a handicapped-parking permit"? If I were the student, I would have pointed that fact out as soon as the guy started yelling at me. I wish I worked on the police force...
2.2 Two white males harassed a female student on the first floor of the Spencer W. Kimball Tower on March 20, 2006. The men told the student she was violating ordinances against standing in a walkway, talking on a cell phone and wearing an engagement ring, and said they were making a citizen's arrest.
The most important question here is what was the race of every other person mentioned in this week's police beat? Or why does the race of these two boys suddenly become important in this entry? This is also a case where I would like to know when the police became involved. Did the white males actually try to arrest her? If they started to carry her away, I could understand the police being involved. Otherwise...?
LEWDNESS
3.1 Two male students, age 18 and 19, were cited by police for urinating in public near Merrill Hall in Helaman Halls on March 23, 2006.
So the other day, I was driving and I really needed to pee. There were a couple of times when I seriously considered having Viper pull the car over so that I could. Now I'm glad that I didn't. But this brings to mind another story. During my freshman year, my friend Magoo was over at our friend Dirtbag's dorm room in Helaman Halls. It was night. The blinds to the room were open about 10 inches. The girls looked out the window and saw a University police officer staring through the window into the dorm room. The police officer was white and female. So Magoo turned around and mooned the police officer. That's funny. What wasn't funny was the fact that then the police officer went into the dorm room and confronted Magoo about it. Magoo admitted to everything and gave the police officer her information. Consequently, she got into some serious trouble with the honor code office. Now, not that I encourage lying, but if I had been in that situation, I would have claimed that I was exercising the right to change in my dorm room, and I was unaware that my blinds were cracked (forgive the pun) open at the time. While I was changing, a police officer who was peering into my room happened to see my bare butt. That's what I would have done, anyway.
NUISANCE
4.1 Unknown male suspects threw several wet paper wads at dorm windows in David John Hall and Hinckley Hall in Helaman Halls on Tuesday. Two female students, living in Hinckley Hall, reported that their window screen was damaged by the wads.
During my freshman year, I threw wet wads of sticky rice at the outside of the dorms, causing the rice to stick to the DT buildings. Glad I wasn't caught! Again, I'm interested to see how this particular situation all played out. Here, perhaps, is the 911 phone call:
911: 9-1-1 Emergency, this is Karen. What's your emergency?
Girls: We are in our dorm room in Helaman Halls and some projectile appears to be being launched at our windows.
911: Okay. Could you describe this projectile?
Girls: Not really---they're just coming at us real fast! Uh... they appear to maybe be wads. Wads of wet paper.
911: Is anybody hurt?
Girls: No, not yet, but we're really scared! The paper has already damaged our window screens, and we're afraid that it's going to break the glass and hurt us.
911: I'll send someone over immediately. Please don't panic, but we don't take damaged window screens lightly around here.
TRESPASSING
5.1 Visitors attending an event in the Morris Center on Saturday refused to leave after the event ended. Police responded, but the persons were gone by the time police arrived.
I actually have no comment for this one, but if you can think of something funny, add it to the comments!
5.2 Unauthorized persons were playing soccer on the Indoor Practice Field on Saturday. They complied with police requests to leave.
By "unauthorized persons," do you mean "students who aren't athletes were using the multi-million dollar facility" because don't even get me started.
CRIMINAL MISCHIEF
5.3 Police found a wire door securing air conditioning units near the Ballroom in the WSC pried open March 24, 2006.
Dun-dun-Dun! Wreak-wreak-wreak-wreak! [insert any other dramatic music or sound effect]
5.4 Three individuals riding their bikes on a hill near Miller Field fled when police approached them March 23. A 16-year-old juvenile complied with police orders to stop, while an 18-year-old was apprehended by police in the act of fleeing. The 18-year-old was cited for evading arrest and riding his bicycle the wrong way on a roadway.
So was the 18-year-old going the wrong way on a roadway while evading arrest, or before evading arrest? It just serves as a reminder to me to obey traffic laws the next time I evade arrest.Wise Blood
I've made a habit as of late of going to a certain comedy club. Usually I'm alone. This is never so awkward for me as it is for the person who is sitting beside me. As seats beside me sit empty, waiting to be filled, a person will approach me and ask if I'm saving any of the seats. "No," I reply. "None?" they ask. "None," I say.
After an exchange similar to this a couple weeks ago, a high school kid and his date took the seats next to me. After a few moments, the kid turned to me and said, "So. You like to go to these things alone?"
"I am dating one of the guys in the show," I said.
"Ahhh, I see. So how often do you come to the shows?"
"Usually at least once a weekend."
The show started and the boy and his date immediately asked me to point out which one was "mine." I pointed "mine" out. During the evening's performance, they would turn to me to ask me more questions: "Does he look at you like that?" (asked when he was playing a character who was in love with someone else and was giving that someone else loving looks); "Is he funny in real life?" No. Of course he isn't. He's actually quite boring. I only date him for the free tickets to his shows.
Last week, "mine" found me as I was coming into the club, and he seated me up near the front, introducing me as his girlfriend to some people he knew. When he left, a guy sitting in the row behind me leaned forward. "Is he in tonight's show?" he asked. I said that he was and the guy said, "Oh, good. Because he's my favorite." Turning to his date, he added, "He's the one I was telling you about."
I try to bring friends with me as often as I can, but usually, like I said, I go alone. The last two times I've gone, I have brought homework reading with me to keep me busy in line outside waiting to get in, and seated inside waiting for the show to start. Which brings me to my point. Last night, while sitting in the front row, waiting for the show to start, I finished Wise Blood, a book for one of my English classes.
It seemed an odd setting to finish the book. Loud music was blaring in the background. The guy beside me kept jostling me. One guy walked past me so quickly that the book was actually knocked out of my hands. And the book, although it claims to be a comedy, seemed actually quite somber. I am still unsure how I feel about the book on the whole. I know that I enjoyed it, because I didn't have any problem finishing it. This is in stark contrast to the last book I finished, Wicked, which I absolutely hated and which I would leave for months between readings. Like Wicked, I recognize that I didn't care about any of the characters in Wise Blood. I could have been just as happy whether they all died or all lived. I also think that I didn't like the story that much. And yet, like I mentioned, there was something I liked about it.
I'm starting to wonder if the only thing I liked about it was that it gave me a legitimate excuse not to do other homework and an excuse to not talk to the people surrounding me at the comedy club.
After an exchange similar to this a couple weeks ago, a high school kid and his date took the seats next to me. After a few moments, the kid turned to me and said, "So. You like to go to these things alone?"
"I am dating one of the guys in the show," I said.
"Ahhh, I see. So how often do you come to the shows?"
"Usually at least once a weekend."
The show started and the boy and his date immediately asked me to point out which one was "mine." I pointed "mine" out. During the evening's performance, they would turn to me to ask me more questions: "Does he look at you like that?" (asked when he was playing a character who was in love with someone else and was giving that someone else loving looks); "Is he funny in real life?" No. Of course he isn't. He's actually quite boring. I only date him for the free tickets to his shows.
Last week, "mine" found me as I was coming into the club, and he seated me up near the front, introducing me as his girlfriend to some people he knew. When he left, a guy sitting in the row behind me leaned forward. "Is he in tonight's show?" he asked. I said that he was and the guy said, "Oh, good. Because he's my favorite." Turning to his date, he added, "He's the one I was telling you about."
I try to bring friends with me as often as I can, but usually, like I said, I go alone. The last two times I've gone, I have brought homework reading with me to keep me busy in line outside waiting to get in, and seated inside waiting for the show to start. Which brings me to my point. Last night, while sitting in the front row, waiting for the show to start, I finished Wise Blood, a book for one of my English classes.
It seemed an odd setting to finish the book. Loud music was blaring in the background. The guy beside me kept jostling me. One guy walked past me so quickly that the book was actually knocked out of my hands. And the book, although it claims to be a comedy, seemed actually quite somber. I am still unsure how I feel about the book on the whole. I know that I enjoyed it, because I didn't have any problem finishing it. This is in stark contrast to the last book I finished, Wicked, which I absolutely hated and which I would leave for months between readings. Like Wicked, I recognize that I didn't care about any of the characters in Wise Blood. I could have been just as happy whether they all died or all lived. I also think that I didn't like the story that much. And yet, like I mentioned, there was something I liked about it.
I'm starting to wonder if the only thing I liked about it was that it gave me a legitimate excuse not to do other homework and an excuse to not talk to the people surrounding me at the comedy club.
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