Keywords...

I'm always interested in how people find my little blog here on the internets. While it's possible I've threatened with physical harm some people into loyal readers, others stumble upon my blog and soon become ensnared in my World Wide Web.

Here are some keywords you can use to find me in case you forget my URL:



Apparently I write about nipples, a lot, and people search nipples, a lot. I also write about not just normal nipples, but flapjack nipples. I believe I referred to Mariah Carey once as having "flapjack nipples" and now it's a great way to find my blog! I also like a good slipple (nipple falling out, on someone else, not myself) and it seems there are internet searchers who agree.

And why does "Kevin Rose" not show up in my keywords since my 2009 goal was to get a date with him, all starting out by mentioning him as often as fitting?

Commercially Smitten...

Remember about a year ago when I professed my undying love for the New Gorton's Fisherman? In fact, looking back, my New Gorton's Fisherman crush was exactly a year ago this month. While his yellow slicker-clad hotness will always hold a special place in my television viewing heart, I have a new commercial crush for this year.

The Free Credit Report dot Com guy.

You know the guy I'm talking about: In one commercial he's dressed as a pirate, in another he's driving his friends around in his P.O.S. car and in the latest installment, he's wearing tights at a Renaissance fair. He has a curly mop top, and despite his slightly jacked-up grill, the Free Credit Report dot Com guy is extremely appealing.

But who is the guy behind the Free Credit Report dot Com guy? After some research, it turns out the Free Credit Report dot Com guy's real name is Eric Violette, a French-Canadian import who, despite being a musician, neither plays his guitar nor sings in any of these commercials. After learning who he really is, I feel hurt and dismayed and I now question the credibility of freecreditreport.com.

Maybe I don't trust my relationship thus far with the Free Credit Report dot Com guy. How can I know that he's telling me the truth, that he really cares about my credit? What about my needs? I've got to end it with the Free Credit Report dot Com guy before my heart breaks even more, I love him and I wish the best for him, but I just can't see myself with someone who proclaims to be such a (literally) Renaissance man while fake strumming in a puffy pirate shirt. For what it may be worth, i will always care about him immensely and i want nothing but the best for him.

Well, now that I'm not in that relationship anymore, anybody know what Kevin Rose is up to?

Comedy Gold...

Since I work in media, I can truly appreciate a good article and a good headline writer. The Salt Lake Tribune hit comedy gold with this today, and I had to re-post. You can either read it below, or follow the link here.

You can also Digg the story here and while you're at it, put in a good word for me with Kevin Rose.

Restroom requiem: 'It was a good toilet' gunned down in line of 'doody'
Centerville hamburger joint offers commode consolation

By Kathy Stephenson
The Salt Lake Tribune

What should you do when your toilet dies in the line of "doody"? Have a funeral, of course.

On Friday at 10 a.m., the Carl's Jr. restaurant in Centerville will have a "moment of silence" for the potty that was destroyed last week when a patron's handgun fell out of the holster and fired as he was hitching up his pants.

The bullet shattered the toilet and sent sharp shards into the man's arm. The 26-year-old, who had a concealed-weapons permit, was treated at the scene for minor injuries.

But the "john" was destroyed, and the national hamburger chain is feeling the loss. "By all accounts, it was a good toilet; reliable and well liked by customers and crew members alike," wrote Brad Haley, executive vice president
blasted commode
The late, well-liked and oft-visited deceased. (Tribune file photo)
of Carl's Jr. marketing, in a tongue-in-cheek note posted on the company's Facebook page.

"It seems only fitting to have a formal service to let everyone say goodbye to such a critical member of our team that was in very close contact with the public each and every day," Haley eulogized. "Our thoughts go out to the surviving men's room urinal and porcelain sink. We only hope that the new toilet can fill the void left by its predecessor, but so far it hasn't made much of a splash."

The outpouring from the community has been overwhelming, said Carl's Jr. manager Christian Martinez. "We have received e-mails and cards from all over the country expressing condolences for our loss," he said. "People will have the chance to say
goodbye in their own way at the memorial service."

Employees at the restaurant, 385 N. 800 West, will hand out bottles of Kaboom® Bowl Blaster toilet cleaner to the first 50 funeral attendees, he said, as "it was the toilet's favorite."

Gearing up

It's that time of year when I come off the Christmas/New Year's depression, into the inversion/cold weather melancholy, spiraling toward the Valentine's Day batshitcrazy. Maybe it's because I've spent day two sick on the couch watching a Bravo reality show marathon (yesterday was the Real Housewives of the OC, today was Top Chef), but I'm not feeling extremely optimistic.

I have learned that next year I will not get a flu shot if I'm just going to get sick anyway. But I digress...

Next month, we'll give in to yet another commercialized holiday by purchasing stuff meant for professing our love. I'm talking Valentine's Day, one of the lamest days of the year. I would prefer to tell loved ones that I feel strongly for them regardless of the time of year. Simply, just because it's Valentine's Day, doesn't mean that's the only time of year we should tell people we love them.

Still, what better way to say it than with a Conversation Heart? From this brief history of Conversation Hearts on candyfavorites.com, these candies started off as peppermint lozenges wrapped in printed foil and then eventually came to be the heart-shaped staple that we know and love. I feel the candy hearts are a little behind the times, so I have come up with some of my own Conversation Hearts for this century, courtesy of the ACME Heart Maker:

First off, here's a simple turn of phrase for the person who tells you they love you and then bails:


Next, this heart is for the gift that keeps on giving:


This heart is to show appreciation for the well-developed, by whichever means they become so impressive:


Finally, I couldn't resist making this heart for an SNL "Sean Connery" to give to "Alex Trebek":


This heart generator provided me with hours of fun as I tried out different combinations of phrases. Though you're only allotted two lines of four letters each, you can still come up with clever sayings. For instance, you could say that someone with a three-letter first name S-U-X. Or, you could put aside all the Valentine's Day cynicism and profess your affection for Kevin Rose:

Illustration...

Because I'm sick and don't feel like typing:

"This has grown tiresome..."

I loved Mike Meyers on SNL whenever he would play Dieter the host of Sprockets, an East German television show. I loved that they used a sped-up version of Kraftwerk's "Electric Cafe" as the theme song. I loved that John Malkovich was a regular "guest" on the show. I loved that they asked us to "touch their monkey." Mostly, I loved that whenever they were going to end the show, Dieter would announce, "This has grown tiresome. Now is the time on Sprockets when we dance!" and black-clad beatnickesque dancers would fill the screen and Vogue. To Kraftwerk.

Admittedly, I've always had an active imagination: Sometimes on the way to work I pretend that I am in a play called "Work" where I am just one of a cast of colorful characters. Sometimes I get all dressed up, even when going to the grocery store, because I'm convinced that a scout from MTV will walk up to me in the Doritos aisle and insist I move to New York to be a VJ. (which is even more imaginative since MTV doesn't even play videos during waking hours anymore.) And sometimes when things in my life grow tiresome, I am on East German television and dancing and somehow it seems to make it all better.

But there are some things that grow so tiresome that dancing around in a black turtleneck and leggings simply won't make it better. I will now share for you the list of the top five things that have grown tiresome for me:

5.) I have grown tiresome of concerts with one guy and a guitar on the stage. I'm a little over John Mayer and is giant orange-on-a-toothpick cranium. I'm tired of Jason Mraz who I do not feel is "The Remedy" for anything. And even though Crosby Loggins (Kenny Loggins' son) is so very very cute (though not as cute as Kevin Rose), he sounds like the rest of them. I've even seen a few lately live, Matt Nathanson, Marc Broussard, and each one of them is as cookie cutter as the last. It makes me long even longlier for Devotchka later this month.

4.) I have grown tiresome of police officers in Utah who get convicted of sexual assault. In the last little while it seems this has been in the news quite a bit, including the Ogden officer who was previously a "hero" in helping out during the Trolley Square Mall shooting spree a couple of years ago. Then just today, a Murray Utah police officer was put on the other side of the cell when he was allegedly similarly stupid. I grow tiresome of this because I just want them to "Protect and Serve" and not "Protect, Serve and then when you're feeling safe, grope your titties."

3.) I have grown tiresome of shows on MTV. I didn't watch The Hills last season. I hate The City this season. I have no interest in Bromance in any season. Daddy's Girls is right out.

2.) Coming up with five things that have truly grown tiresome... Guess I'm gong to stop now. Guess things really aren't that irritating after all.

Kevin Rose, I will never grow tired of watching Diggnation.

Plastic for Plastic

What to get for the expressionless this Valentine's Day:



Just so that Kevin Rose knows, I naturally look younger than I am, so I don't need botox like some women feel they do. One day, it might all catch up and surpass me so that it looks like my nasal labial folds belong on a basset hound. Until then, I'm hot. I also get bonus points for using "nasal labial folds" in context and not giggling.

I'm Baaaack!

In the immortal words of little Carol Ann in Poltergeist, "I'm back!" Okay, I paraphrased that. She says, "They're back!" but that would imply that I have more than one of me, split personalities if you will. Peanut gallery, insert your jokes now.

I had a rough holiday season, I became a bit anti-social, but in the end, I decided to show some love to my blog. For a little while there, I had no desire to write on this since there are so many people out there who think they're funny and amazing writers, who actually end up contributing very little to the blogosphere. I am going to regularly write on here because I figure it might just motivate me to finally finish my book I've been trying to finish for years now. Maybe one day I'll finish it. Maybe one day I'll publish it. Maybe one day I'll print it out on toilet paper, have a party and invite guests to rub the sheets on their "no-no zones."

And I have another goal in 2009:
Get Kevin Rose from Digg to go for drinks with me.

Tonight, while sitting in a focus group with some fantastic women associated with UtahMama, (and no, my recent blog disappearance is not hint that I suddenly became a mama. I was there representing my work, if you must know) I professed my crush on Kevin Rose and was encouraged to pursue that. I figure it makes me teeter on the ledge of stalker, but if you can't be a stalker on the Web, where can you be a stalker? Seriously?

So no, every post won't be on my unrequited lust for Kevin Rose, but I will certainly track my progress. If any progress is made.

And I might occasionally even be marginally funny. Oh, and I'll post more pictures. For Kevin.

For the first random picture of the year, this is a screenshot of someone who lives near me:

Considering somebody died a couple of months ago in the other side of my duplex, I'm slightly concerned I might have a late-night brain seeking visitor. So sit back, relax and enjoy my regularly updated new outlook on blogging. It's bursting with fruit flavor.