So I thought I would try out some Crest Whitestrips I got recently and document my progress to see what happened over the 7 days. Below are the results:
Day 1:
Day 2:
Day 3:
Day 4:
Day 5:
Day 6:
Day 7:
Day 8:
(haha, just kidding)
Results: I don’t think they made any difference…my teeth were pretty white to start with…and Crest Whitestrips make me gag. Now you all see what I do at work. Experiment concluded.
Have a great Labor Day everyone! (or, the three of you that read this…)
Me, to my groceries as I was bringing them in this afternoon: “Stand the fuck up, MILK!”
Yeah, I’d be embarrassed if anyone ever heard the things I say out loud when I’m alone…
I was checking out a group of photos today of celebrities and their fashion faux pas, and this one just struck me as funny. We all know Kim Kardashian as being famous for…I don’t know, having a huge ass and a sex tape with Ray-J that no one has seen? Still, she decides to dress herself up in God-awful get-ups and make the party circuit. This one is especially heinous. Check out the pic and the commentary below that some clever person at MSN added to it. Some people have no shame…or full-length mirrors…
Mickey Double-D’s: Kim Kardashian probably spent hours deciding on a suitable outfit for this McDonald’s event. After all, it’s not every day you meet a dignitary as illustrious as Mayor McCheese. Unfortunately, in her eagerness to impress, the talent-impaired brunette makes a
… more major faux pas, stepping out in an overloaded bikini top that exposes her all-beef patties (at least her khaki, girls-gone-wild-on-safari short-alls cover up her oft-seen sesame seed buns, if not her heartbreaking case of cameltoe). That’s not the only fashion crime she commits, however. Just out of camera range, the Hamburglar quietly seethes over Kim’s blatant co-opting of his signature hat and plots his revenge, which he figures will involve hurling large amounts of special sauce and several Filets-O-Fish.
I loved dinosaurs when I was a kid. I always wanted to go to natural history museums to see their bones, and I ended up spending all my money in the museum gift shop buying tons of books about them. I had a favorite: the triceratops; I thought he was both cute and menacing, something every little girl strives to be (or, at least, that’s how most of them appear to me). I even had Converse hi-top sneakers with dinosaurs all over them (do not be alarmed–that loud sound you’re hearing is just my “cool points” skyrocketing). So when I read a review of the History Channel’s “Jurassic Fight Club” in the New York Times, I ran straight to my DVR to set that up.
“Jurassic Fight Club” is kind of like a combination of “CSI” and any dinosaur film you ever had to watch in science class growing up. It starts by describing (dramatically) the discovery of a few sets of bones in one particular location, and goes on to surmise what happened there to kill those dinosaurs. They use a CT scanner on the skulls, check out teeth marks on the bones, and study the environment the bones were found in to try to put together the deadly scenario. All the while, they are discussing the history of the dinosaur and the various natural weapons on their bodies that would make them particularly menacing (teeth that point backwards, anyone?).
The show is hosted by a guy named “Dinosaur George” (who I plan on inviting to my next birthday party based on his name alone), who really gets excited talking about dinosaurs. I really think he recites the cast of “Jurassic Park” while he’s beating off, he just loves it THAT much. And he always wears a nifty vest. There’s also a deep-voiced narrator who leads into every commercial break with such dramatic cliff-hangers that you can’t help but picture them being quoted by David Caruso while he puts on his sunglasses.
The best part is the last 10 minutes or so of the show, where they’ve put together a CGI reenactment of what they think happened between the dinosaurs to leave their shattered bones where they were found millions of years later by nerds who like to play in the dirt. There’s an ominous warning typed on the screen before the battle begins, stating “you are about to see a graphic reenactment of a prehistoric ass-whooping” or something like that, and then the throw-down begins. It’s not as graphic as they would like you to believe (computer animation can only take you so far), but it’s entertainment.
The first episode, entitled “Cannibal Dinosaur” starred a male/female pairing of majungasauruses (majungasauri?). Long story short, the dude wants to hook up with the chick, but she’s got her kid with her and isn’t gonna give up the goods. He figures he’s gotta stomp the kid if he ever wants her to spread ‘em, so he goes after Junior. Bitch flips and slams him with her tail, but somehow trips over a log in typical “girl in a horror movie” fashion. Dude takes that opportunity to pick up the kid and slam his skull against a tree. Mom recovers and nails the guy, but realizes her rug rat has already bit it. Get this: she then EATS HER KID…WHOLE. No tears, no ketchup, just brunch. Then she turns to m-f’er she left twitching in the dust after she apparently bit right through his spinal cord, rips his stomach open and takes a big mouthful of his liver. Game over.
I don’t know about you, but that sounds like good family fun to me. Do yourself a favor and check it out. Even through all the CGI carnage, you might learn something.
America (okay, the world) is obsessed with the Olympics right now. I really can’t relate. I’m not sure if that means that there’s something wrong with me patriotically, or that I just have too many things on my DVR already at the moment and my ADD won’t allow me to shift focus to ANYTHING else.
Honestly, there’s really no event in the summer Olympics that draws my interest. My sister was a competitive gymnast growing up, so I believe I’ve met my gymnastic quota for the rest of my life (cut to me every weekend as an 8th grader, doing my homework in the stands of some stuffy gym, usually in the Birmingham area, at 8:00 on a Saturday morning, dragged along to every gymnastics meet on the schedule). Watching competitive swimming is like watching a professional tennis match, only in slow motion (oh look, they’re going to the right…(pause)…now left…(pause)…now right…(pause)…now left…). Also, I have to ask, who made badminton an Olympic sport (what is this, a family picnic?)? The only event I’m remotely interested in is diving, and that’s only because their heads come so close to those concrete platforms that it actually provides some sort of suspense (and I’ve figured out I’d make a horrible diving commentator because the only thing I’d say the whole time would consist of one compound word, “Ohmigodshealmosthitherhead!”…or silence). I think football (the gridiron version) would make a great Olympic event, though mostly only the United States and Canada actually play it, so the entire event would consist of “U.S. vs. Canada, best 3 out of 5.”
I was sitting in the dentist chair this morning watching the Today show (clever name for a show, dontcha think?), and the coverage just really bothers me. The whole focus is Michael Phelps, apparently the reigning champion of “So You Think You Can Swim,” and replays of how allegedly one gymnast blew it for the whole American team Tuesday night by taking a fall off the balance beam (America now puts its entire hope in the all-around competition…and, of course, Michael “I’m the shit” Phelps). It irks me how everyone confuses Olympic spirit with patriotism, like we’re just gunning to beat everyone else as if it puts us up at the top of some global report card.
However, in full support of the games, I intend to continue to consume Coca-Cola and McDonald’s on a regular basis–I can has Olympic double-cheeseburger?
The radio station I listen to here in Tupelo has something they call the “Flashback Lunch” from 12-1 every weekday, where they play hits (and I use that term loosely–if I hear “Valley Girl” by Frank Zappa one more time I’m going to jump in front of a bus) from the 80’s and 90’s during the hour. While I was listening during lunch today, they started playing the song “Manic Monday” by The Bangles. Okay, sure, it’s an alright song, but the fact that they played it today really annoyed me. In fact, every time I hear that song on any day of the week other than the one mentioned in the title, my first thought is “BUT IT’S NOT MONDAY!” And that makes me wonder, how OCD am I to think that “Manic Monday” should only be played on Monday?
On a side note, it’s probably a good thing I don’t have any of those “Days of the Week” underpants, because I know one Thursday I’d be behind on the laundry and only have the “Sunday” ones clean, and I’d just have to free-ball it…
