All things interesting and goodly (that's a word, right?)

Hello! How be thee questers? 

Oh Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

I have marvelous news for you all! My fellow quester (and better half), Kelsey has been accepted (for a mere traveler's fee) to the college of her choosing. We are all very proud (mainly me because we are, like, buddies and stuff)!

Isn't this the only way in life?

In other news little WP, or for those of you who can't remember, Womb Parasite, has spent the last few weeks using his/her fucking body-built arms and legs to kick my bladder. This may seem fun to some, like a roller coaster or some thrill shit like that. Let me assure you that it's kind of the opposite (more like a cat pooping on your face while you weep in distress because you just found out you have terminal cancer of the testicles. Also, you're a virgin and can't have sex because the cancer has ruined your penis for ever...that is...the few weeks until you die in utter pain, alone, by yourself. Oh, and your cat...pooping on your face). 

Some may cry foul that I, as a future mother, am bemoaning the beauty that is my child moving. Let your fears be put to rest. The movement is amazing and quite startling when you first feel it. However, what is not amazing is how WP loves to tap dance on my bladder...all day...all week...all ever. It's never a nice feeling to get done peeing, leave the bathroom, and have a sudden urge to go again (for just a split second). I know WP is grinning like a dick in there, just waiting for my next potty break to really put the pressure on my bladder.

For reference I will give you how many times I have peed in a day:

*2:17 A.M. (a rather abrupt wake up)

*6:00 A.M. (when Tyler got up for work)

*7:15 A.M. (when I got up for work)

*8:30 A.M. (when I got to work)

*9:15 A.M. (after finishing sorting through my e-mails)

*9:55 A.M. (probably something work related)

*11:00 A.M. (my morning drink saying hello)

*12:05 P.M. (a quick stop before heading to lunch)

*12:20 P.M. (a quick stop during lunch)

*2:23 P.M. (a quick stop before taking the mail)

*2:50 P.M. (a quick stop after taking the mail)

*3:19 P.M. (UPS guy stops by)

*4:35 P.M. (finishing up major work)

*5:40 P.M. (a quick stop before the drive home)

That was all I recorded for a day, but I can assure you that I probably went 5 or 6 additional times before bed. That is fucking 14 recorded pee stops in a single day. Fucking 14 (I think, I didn't feel like recounting).

Making me pee all the time will not win me over.

In other, other news...I have finally found the dog I want:

So fucking adorable. No seriously, I want. want. want.

I had an epiphany today during lunch. I was driving and saw this:

Like a Bumblebee or some shit.

Yes, just an ordinary yellow Camaro. I'm not a super big fan of sports cars so I never understood why these cars stood out to me.

Now I do. How could I not realize that all yellow Camaro's must be owned by Lego Men...

Thought I wouldn't catch 'ya. Didn't you, you sick freak?

Lego Men must have mind control powers. How else could we have gone this long without noticing? How have I never seen this? It must be a sign...a sign that all Lego Men are evil douche-bags who can't drive worth a shit.

See, I have all the proof. 

I'm going to go all Perez Hilton, blah, blah, blah for a minute here. There has been a lot in the news recently regarding Taylor Swift and her butt-hurtness over being teased. Am I the only one who thinks Miss-I-Date-And-Dump-Boys-To-Write-Songs-About-Them-And-Use-Them-As-My-Only-Claim-To-Fame needs to grow up a little? Like really...

What was it that Tina Fey and Amy Poehler said about Taylor Swift? Oh yeah, they cracked a joke saying Taylor needed to stay away from Michael J. Fox's son (Mr. Golden Globe) and sometime about 'oh wait, Taylor needs that 'me' time'. An innocent joke, right? I mean, Tina and Amy are known for being joke queens. They are witty and quick to throw barbs, but they weren't being harmful. After all, what else should a serial dater expect? 

I would think that this is where Taylor shows that she wears big girl panties and can make a big girl decision regarding teasing. Does she? Nope. She says that Tina and Amy have a special place reserved in Hell for them...say what?

In another event, Chelsea Handler (classy and crass lady she is) made a joke that Taylor is only hurt because she is misunderstood. She's a pure-hearted virgin who is being taken advantage of by the guys she dates. They want her to be theirs (in more ways than one) and she says no, thus the breakups. 

I believe there was also something like, "Taylor Swift will be a virgin for ever, ever, ever, ever". 

I certainly can't wait to hear the mini tantrum that Taylor Swift throws after that. God, I just love Hollywood.

*GASP* All the questers lament. Rachel hates Taylor Swift. 

No, no I don't. I think she needs to get a rougher hide if she wants to stay in the spotlight, but I don't hate her at all. In fact, she has been known to do incredible things. Check out Rockstar Ronan's blog to see what she did for Maya and her beautiful son, Ronan, who lost his battle to Neuroblastoma. She wrote an incredibly moving (and incredibly heartbreaking) song about his short, short life (about 4 years).

On a final note regarding Taylor Swift. Does anyone else think she looks like Gadget from Rescue Rangers?

The same person....right?

Okay, but seriously, check out Rockstar Ronan. The blog is long if you start from the beginning, but it is a beautiful story. Maya, Ronan's mother, illustrates her need to fight, her need to win, and her utter devastation over her child's death. She is working hard to make pediatric cancer as mainstream as other cancers. She is working hard for a cure so other people never have to go through what she did. 

This is Ronan, the sweet cutie who died way before his time. Maya's extra spicy little monkey.

I don't always agree with Maya or her words. In fact, sometimes she pisses me off on her viewpoints, but the main point is that she's a wonderful mother. She is the mother I or anyone else should look up to. She is the mother others should strive to be. 

Because these are nice, but not what matters in the grand scheme of things. 

In fact, if she even read this blog post she would be pissed at me for complaining about little WP kicking. She is one women who has lived through Hell/whatever the atheist equivalent is and learned something...that she can't control everything and that she will never take anything for granted. She will never complain about stupid crap like pregnancy woes (she's pregnant right now with a little Poppy!) or drama. 

I on the other hand, always complain about everything so Maya would probably smack me in the face and tell me that I'm lucky to be having a healthy little WP without the worry of death (because I've never lost a child to anything, especially cancer). 

Because no matter how happy he looked. It was never acceptable for him to be sitting in a hospital bed being treated for dumb-fuck cancer. 

Serious moment over. I've made myself sad. But seriously, fuck cancer.

Anyway, back to my horrible ways in my happy world. 

Tyler and I bought baby stuff last weekend. The first baby stuff ever. We got an infant car seat (in black because WP is a genital mystery...ew, that sounds not right). It looks safe, didn't break the bank, and has a footsie cover.

We also got a playpen! It was on sale and adorable! 

This! Eddie Bauer!

"But that's a boy playpen", you all shout. Well, for some reason I found it suitable for both sexes. So there!

We also bought a diaper bag! Tyler did not like the bag of my choosing. He doesn't want to carry it if I'm not around. Too bad for him. It's black with green and white lining. It's very fancy.

And those three things plus a seat cover for Tyler's precious car cost $300.00. So three things down, a bazillion and ten to go. 

Yay!

These are a few, these are a few of my registry things.

If anyone would have told me when I was 16 that I was going to have a baby at 22 years of age I would have laughed. Well, guess who is laughing now? That's right! The Pastafarians! 

Lol. This is amazing!

According to their website, Pastafarianism is sincerely legit and the followers are true believers. What? This is the potential greatest mock of religion and people truly believe that the Flying Spaghetti Monster created the world...

I'm not judging. I mean, look at those balls!

Okay, signing off now questers...before my brain turns to mush.

Love and mega-lasers to you all. Yes, even you corner loving stoop kid.

Forensics tournaments are where the parties at

Howdy, questers! Kelsey here with an exciting update!

im getting lazy. i just google image searched exciting update. wow.

I just got back late last night from a Forensics (Speech and Debate) Tournament in Ocean City, Maryland. It was pretty wonderful. I placed First in Informative, a team mate placed second in inform, another team mate placed first in after dinner speaking, yet another placed fifth in persuasive and we got plenty of team awards. Two team members placed first overall for the whole year in their events (informative and ads), one got runner-up and best novice for informative, and three of our team members received overall awards as thank-yous and goodbyes as they are graduating. A pretty good haul.

But, the exciting thing is the hotel room!

I guess this was it. Idk.

Anyways, so we had five rooms and would frequently slip in between them. There were a lot of us. We would practice because we are boring.


HAHAHA JUST KIDDING WE DIDNT PRACTICE AT ALL. No, instead John and I caused problems for everyone around us.

Our rooms had full kitchens with a dishwasher, so I made breakfast and lunch for a bunch of people and kept the dishes clean. I didn't have a skillet, so I used a flatter pot to fry things. The big burner was broken, so I also had to use a small one and only use the middle of the skillet.

this is what I made. this is all I can make.

Anyways, so. One broken burner and no skillets. Thats not bad, right? Except, I happened to go next door (we kept the doors between our room and the boy's room open next door) and looked in their cabinets...AND OH LOOK. THREE SKILLETS. AFTER I ALREADY FINISHED BREAKFAST.

me

So, whatever. I stole the skillets. Everything went well. Thats all that was wrong with the room!

haha just kidding. again.

No. The night before we had one of the boys over (John) to help us turn our fireplace on. Yes, our room had a fireplace. Okay. He followed how his roommates had done theirs and turned it on. And by turned it on I mean RIPPED IT OUT OF THE MOTHERFUCKING WALL.

We all just stood there. We didn't know what to do. He quickly shoved it back in like the man he is and then helped Natalie set up her pull out bed. Which means, of course, we watched as he did it all by himself. Hes a good guy. I raised him well.

So, thats all, right? Nope. Nooooope. Our screen door had been ripped off the hinges. No big deal. Except it was like halfway on the track and we couldn't move it without breaking it more so sliding outside was hard. Once you were out there...you just should have probably stayed out there.

kinda looked like this? We had a gorgeous beach view.

One of the other girl's rooms door actually locked them out. We found that out when one girl was in the shower and suddenly heard screaming from the faint distance...she got out and her roommate was banging on the door, half dressed, a cup of coffee in one hand and terror in her eyes. I cracked up because well...it was funny.

That balcony was the source of our greatest terror, one night, as well...

We ladies three (Sara, Natalie, and myself) we relaxing the first night. We had first bracket events the next day but not until 3 in the afternoon. That meant relaxing that night and that morning at the beach. We had already been hottubbing and swimming and were all warm and cozy in our beds. Natalie with her computer, Sara with her phone, I with a book.

Then suddenly, from down below (seven stories) we heard it...the mad screaming of a drunk man! Oh no, I thought, I hope the young scalliwag is not with our group! What dishonor he brings us! As we ladies three each stared at the slighly ajar balcony door, suddenly a LARGE WHITE CREATURE attacked our fair balcony!

INSTANT CHAOS!

Natalie jumped with her laptop in tow about three feet in the air. "What was that?!" she scream, absolutely terrorized. Sara, visibly shaken, slid out of her bed, panty-clad.

"I don't know," she responded, inching closer to the bathroom and further from the balcony.

"Well, my beautiful and fantastic ladies, allow me, your brave night, to inspect said creature and report back to you for your peace of mind," I valiantly cried, taking my warm and relaxed self out to the balcony. There, only a small distance from the door, sat our creature of white horror.

Picking it up gingerly, I brought the creature inside. "We shall raise it as our own," I said to the women, and they nodded in agreement. They settled themselves back down, discussing the terror that they felt. I, their brave knight, had saved them. I placed the creature with its many brethren in the bathroom, folded on the floor for the maid to retrieve, and set out on my quest to find the cruel wizard that had cursed this foul creature with its balcony solitude.

Who could have abandoned such a loving creature?

Marching my armor-clad self next door, I kicked in the already ajar doorway to the men's room. Grabbing one of them by the scruff of their pajama neck, I grunted in a low voice, "Alright, scumbag, who did it? Who dared to attack my kingdom?".

Visibly shaken, the boy pointed to the troublemaker, giggling himself blue in the corner. There, sat the mischievous mountain troll, unshaven and evil, enjoying his dastardly deed. "You!" I screamed, anger welling deep within my veins, "You will right the wrongs you have performed! You will apologize to the fair princesses, and you will banish thyself to a faraway place and never return or so help me I will vanquish thee!"

So, yeah. John was so fucking tall that he literally reached across balcony walls and threw a towel at our door. What a dick.

Theres actually like thirty more things wrong with my room and one hundred more stories I'd like to tell, but I'm not going to. Some girls tried to get us disqualified (from Shepherd. Fuck you, ladies. I showed you, huh? FIRST PLACE YOU PIECES OF SHIT) and John gave me a sea shell that I shall keep forever. All-in-all it was an amazing trip and I loved every minute of it.

Thanks for listening!

Pregnant Rachel's Shopping List

'Sup Questers!!!!!

Long time no see! No seriously, where are you guys? Fucking ninjas.

What the fuck is this?

Without further ado, I present you, my precious little gumdrops, with my random shopping list of last weekend. 

So beautifully beautiful. I just weep.

Yes, that is my shopping list. Isn't it gorgeous?

"Aren't they beautiful?" - said small, cute Hawaiian troublemaker.

That is also an example of my horrible handwriting. Analyze it if you dare. 

I triple dog dare you...motherfuckers.

*Item one is conditioner. My drawing is fabulous, don't be denying. I have the unfortunate tendency to use quadruple the amount of conditioner necessary when washing my hair...my shoulder length hair...This really leaves a problem when my shampoo is half-full yet my conditioner is non-existent (its okay, just add water to the bottle. It will last a few more days...a few more...I promise).

I bought TRESemeé Platinum Strength because the bottle was pretty. The smell is so-so. It works (in quadruple the recommended amount).

Blah, blah, blah! Blah, blah, blah! Ooh-la-la!

*Item two is oil. Yay oil! Remember that one time I poured you in a  hot skillet and it caught on fire for a second? Remember that!!!??? 

Just like conditioner, I use an overwhelming amount of oil. Making spaghetti? Pour oil in the boiling noodles so they don't stick together. Frying mushrooms? Oil bitch! Stir-fry? Oil!!!! Fish? Oil, oil, oxen free. 

That's right, ox! Stay the fuck out of my oil!

*Item three is butter. You know what butter is good on? Like everything. 

This one isn't so much a 'use gargantuan amounts' thing, but a 'I buy the tiny container' thing. I'm cheap.

This is madness! This is BUTTER!

*Item four is bread. Kelsey, remember what bread stands for? Remember? Huh? Huh? Huh? Wink. Nudge. Shove. Push. Shank. Knife-fight. Kill the dolphins. Jumanji!

We have a problem with bread in our home. The boyfriend loves PB&J so he uses a lot of bread. All the bread ever. So you must be asking yourselves if I buy cheaper bread for him. 

Like this! This is what I buy and eat!

You know what boyfriend likes to buy and eat?

This! This is not cheap!

Boyfriend loves potato bread. Potato bread is not cheap. It's like 4-5 dollars a loaf. It would be better if I liked it too, but I don't. So our home always has two different types of bread. 

*Item five is toothpaste. While most people are tried and true Crest or Colgate fans, I am the opposite. I bop around from toothpaste to toothpaste like Taylor Swift and boyfriends. I'm always changing my toothpaste. I bought a mass supply of toothpaste from Costco. We still have like 3 or 4 large tubes left. Guess who uses that? Boyfriend does. I just buy a different type.

I'm obviously obsessed with toothpaste.

Why do we give this to kids? They just eat it when we're not looking. I want this available in adult sizes.

On a side note, who remembers SWISH during elementary school? That shit tasted like ass in a cup.

*Item six is mouthwash. I did not buy mouthwash because I didn't feel like it. We have half a container at home anyway.

*Item seven is frozen fruit. Nummy!

I bought peaches, cherries, and blueberries. They are delicious because I say so.

Yes, I'm a freak who loves frozen fruit.

Fall on your knees! Oh hear the cold fruit talking!

*Item eight is apples. I love apples. Did I buy apples? No.

I bought kiwi's instead. Because fucking kiwi's.

Why are these so delicious?

*Item nine is pizza bites. These were for the boyfriend. He eats them like fucking candy. I bought two boxes (each contained 15 pizza rolls). He ate them all in one sitting.

*Item ten is Sunny D. Like pizza bites, my boyfriend fucking vacuum inhales Sunny D. I don't know how he isn't dead yet.

The D, she wants it. 

*Item eleven is grape juice. Yes, I totally cracked a Jesus joke on my list. I don't care if anyone is offended. 

My intent was to buy grape juice. Instead I bought peach-mango juice. It looked nummier. It lied. 

*Item twelve is deodorant. Deodorant is lovely and is something everyone should invest in. No really.

I had to buy new deodorant because I dropped my old deodorant in the toilet. I guess that is what I get for putting deodorant on 5 feet in the vicinity of the open toilet bowl.

I...I can't believe other people have done this....

*Item thirteen is strawberry cream cheese. I love cream cheese. I could eat it forever. Strawberry cream cheese just makes it better.

*Item fourteen is bagels. Well, fuck you all. Can't have cream cheese without bagels.

*Item fifteen is pork chops. Boyfriend and I made pork chops for dinner. Boyfriend makes orgasmic pork chops with cream of mushroom soup. This is obviously why we are dating.

Obviously, my list was too boring without notes.

The problem with lists is that they don't cover everything. In that store run I also bought Greek yogurt and potatoes. Oh, and black water. And other stuff.

That is why my bill was almost $90. I'm the worst shopper ever. Yay for me!

Adios questers! I have no more to say to you slaves.

Work E-mails

Questers! I've missed you more than Michael Jackson misses life...AKA...the playground.

Hee Hee! Ohhhhhh! *crotch grab, pelvic thrust, moonwalk*

I had the sudden, and obviously fabulous, urge today to go through my work e-mails (we use Outlook, bitches!) and delete the unnecessary ones. If you have ever been lucky enough (define lucky) to have a work e-mail, you are used to the sorting that takes place when you arrive at your desk in the morning. You are used to filing and deleting the bazillion e-mails that accumulate overnight in your inbox. You are used to seeing the drivel that spouts out of your coworker's mouths, and you are probably used to going back to your folder titled 'Important Work Stuff', only to notice you've filled it with e-mails from so-and-so coworker detailing his/her dog's poop collectively over the course of a year. It happens.

While cleaning out my folders I found e-mails from 1 to 2 years ago that I just don't know why I kept. I found them funny. You may not. I don't care.

#1 - We shall call it, "How we treat those bitchin' customers".

Boss Man was in a rotten mood over his sales representatives' working skills. Apparently they just weren't interacting with clients the way he wanted. So we have this e-mail:

"Do not take the client's side over your employer's. The client is always wrong until proven wrong."

Kind of like "The customer is always right", except not.

 

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Fuck you client!

#2 - We shall call it, "Storm Alert Boss Man".

Boss Man wanted to warn about impending weather. Employee's make a hilarious thread instead:

From Head Secretary Lady: "The following is a message from Boss Man Weather Systems: A severe storm is headed directly towards PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT. This is not, I repeat NOT, a normal storm. Lightening is flashing, dogs are hiding. Approximate 40 mph winds. Secure any loose items outside. This concludes the message from Boss Man Weather Systems." 

 

 Hide yo' dogs because lightening be happenin' all over da' place.

Cue hilarious rebuttals from office staff, warehouse staff, and sales representatives, before:

From Head Secretary Lady: "Okay, so 2/3 of you think the storm I'm talking about is Boss Man himself coming to the office, which I can completely understand and find funny, but this is in regards to an actual weather event. Boss Man wanted me to warn everyone of the severe thunderstorm that is occurring at his home right now and is headed our way. I don't think it's nearly as severe as he's making it out to be, but he REALLY wants everyone to be advised."

#3 - We shall call it, "Duck Quest".

A duck decided to lay eggs in the mulch right outside Boss Man's office. Boss Man puts up fencing and a baby pool to provide for future ducklings. I have about a zillion e-mails with photos of the ducks doing ordinary things.

Titled: "First Challenge"

Titled: "Babies"

Titled: "Eggs"

Titled: "Clearing the gate"

Titled: "First Journey"

I understand that ducklings are cute as shit and all, but really? Titling the pictures? I'd say our office staff spent a good 2 weeks obsessing over these ducks.

#4 - We shall call it, "Deer Hunting".

I found an old e-mail from my father (he is the warehouse manager where I work). This e-mail contained a single picture. A picture of a gutted deer that was shot by one of our coworker's young sons. Does this sound like a normal e-mail to you? Seriously, this picture was sent around the general e-mail thread as a way of congratulations.

#5 - We shall call it, "Safari Murder".

Boss Man goes on safari's a lot...like once or twice a year. He'll just take off to South Africa for weeks at a time. And I can always remember when because my e-mail is then filled with pictures of dead animals: hyenas, nguni cattle, dik-dik, wild boars, zebras, etc.

This is a regular occurrence at my place of servitude.

#6 - We shall call it, "Gross dad, stfu".

I took a call for my father while he was out of the office and e-mailed him the details. He e-mailed me back the following:

"She wants me for my body. It's so hard to fight off these women. She's always coming back for more."

 No seriously dad, stfu.

#7 - We shall call it, "Accidental E-mail".

Head Secretary Lady sends me an e-mail of a shirtless Tim Tebow. I'm confused and just put the e-mail away into the dark abyss.

E-mail was meant for her sister, who also happens to be named Rachel. 

Needless to say, I receive a lot of accidental e-mails.

#8 - We shall call it, "Monkey Business".

I received a picture of a dead monkey from Accounts Receivable Lady. A fucking dead monkey. 

Unsure of how to take this e-mail, I questioned what she was doing with a picture of a dead monkey.Turns out it was a monkey that attacked a friend's dog. So of course my next question was, "Does your friend live in the US?". The answer to that was, "Yes, my friend lives in West Virginia.".

Answer me this. Since when do monkeys live in West Virginia? No seriously...

This is the actual monkey.

#9 - We shall call it, "Chimera of Doom".

Head Secretary Lady sent office staff e-mail with attachment titled Chad Ochocinco.

This is him.

"So what?" you may be asking, "She sent you a picture of a muscled black man". Yes, a muscled, shirtless, PETA ad Ochocinco. What's not to love?

An even better picture indeed!

But did I mention the little part of her cutting his head off and replacing it with her husband's? Her white husband? Her white husband who is definitely in his 50's? That decidedly turned a potentially hot picture into a not-so-hot picture.

#10 - We shall call it, "Security, what security?".

My workplace has an annual wine tasting event of mass proportions. This event is held on two days (consecutive Monday's), and features upwards on 400 wines, beers, liquors, and sakes. We have catering, sushi chef's, etc. We fly in our producers from all over the world. Over-all, it's a big event.

This year we hired security. A rather smart move when you consider the 350+ people who attend both events. 

When this was announced to all staff, we received this response from one sales representative:

Such a man.

That's a normal response to a security detail, right?

This was the next response:

Honor, Honor, Honor, Honorable Suicide.

As you can see, our company takes itself very seriously.

No really, so seriously.

We never e-mail ridiculously or anything like that...nope.

Well...questers...that's about all for today. Send me your own stupid e-mails...if any questers actually read these crazy things...