Bienvenidos. Come unos nachos.

It's a new week, and I'd like to welcome you to the party with a fantastic newesque tee.

The tape measure gracing this graphic might be asking "how do you measure up?" but to those incoming students who packed on the Freshman Fifteen during summer vacation, it clearly shouts

WELCOME, FATTY!

Hodge Podge [sic]

Consider this a Whitman's Sampler (my Valentine's gift to you, Sweetcheeks). It's got delicious caramel-filled chocolates and a few with a hints of hazelnut, vanilla, or peanut butter. But every few bites, you're bound to come across a molasses monstrosity that effectively glues your jaw shut. We begin with one such disappointment:

F-A-I-L is so much easier to spell.

...So's Austria, but if you think that's the point with this tee, you need to go back to your spelling lesson. Mad props on this one, though it was not nearly fitted enough to add to my closet (though it probably would have been the perfect fit for Ahnold).

I'm sure Soccer Mom was happy this atrocity wasn't permanent. FYI, the only Courgar I could find online was a certain John Courgar, who is currently a senior at Pima Community College and is -- according to his meager LinkedIn profile -- studying in Pima's "Academy of Chinese and Health Sciences" (acupuncture?).

Moving on to a tastier treat...

This find really just allowed me to indulge in some needless Googling. I approve of this, this, and especially this.

We finish off today with some questionable punctuation. Does Barney love a girl whose real name is too sacred to be shared -- thus the pseudonym "Brandi"? Does the purple people eater dinosaur really like the word "Brandi"? And what the hell is going on with all the tildes?!?!?

In a related story, a coworker's written commendation to another read:

Thank you "Andrew" for your "huge" help.

The first set of punctuation seems to mock the name, but the second? "Huge" might indicate an inside joke between friends or perhaps a scorned lover's jab at his "little" man... 

Surely that wasn't intended...????

Baking...Little Boys

Won a game of Hearts last night, lost Spades by 120 points, and was the first to go out on Magic: The Gathering but it was a good night with good people (except for that Shaun; he's terrible). Moving on to self-amusement (anything more is just a bonus):

I was a bit shocked to find that this cookbook required a 120/240V oven. I was hoping for some new recipes I could try out at my hearthstone. I guess I'll just stick to charring marshmallows over the campfire and frying eggs on the sidewalk...

Speaking of non sequiturs...

"God made hugs, smiles and little boys" ... but the devil made dem hoes.

(Still trying to find the second piece of nursery art in this collection, I might add.)

If you like the previous joke's structure, you might also like

Organic

So I seem to have taken a hiatus again. It occurs to me that part of the reason it's so difficult to keep up the blogging habit is because I set myself up to unreal expectations. I can't be hilarious every day to every person (though I sure as hell make myself laugh on the regular). And I surely can't write an essay every day of the week (at least not until I put some real effort into finding freelance work lucrative enough to allow my full-time retail job to become part-time). I read somewhere once that it takes 21 days to start a habit, so I'm going to shoot for twenty-one consecutive days of posts so I can test that theory. These posts may be 2/3 crap, but this goal is FOR ME more than anyone else so I can tolerate inferior quality to start with. I know in my heart that I can write stuff worth reading, but I've never really committed to PRACTICING so it's time to get that ball rolling. (I used to practice during my adolescence, before I realized what I was doing. At some point -- school? -- I learned that my creative writing "play" was a form of work and everything became more difficult. Now I realize it's supposed to be difficult if you're doing it right, so I'm seeking a happy medium.)

Else I talk to myself for another 15 minutes, I will proceed to today's humble photo:

The GREEN movement (or whatever the hell it's called) has grown into all sectors of business. There's "organic" produce and all kinds of health food that's supposed to be better for you because it lacks hormones and pesticides and horse semen and whatever. There are even organic cotton t-shirts so the pesticides from your brand-new Hanes tee don't seep into your gaping chest wounds (here's looking at you, meth head). But I guess it was too much to ask for women to shell out $10 for the opportunity to bleed on organic cotton...because a Big Lots had a whole shelf full.