Not Sure If I Can Stomach That…

The ice in my water smells funky.

The number one post on my blog is still about that effing penis ring.

The number one search that brings users to my blog is “penisring.”

There are two sides to my conscience, as there probably are at least that many for most people, and I’m starting to fully understand the concept of “devil on one shoulder, angel on the other.”  For me, it’s more like an apathetic, brooding pessimist on one side and the dreaming, go-getting achiever on the other.  Droopy vs. Mickey Mouse… Eeyore vs. Simba …

Speaking of which, which character/s do you think would win in a wrestling match?  Like, a WWE Wrestling match?

Have I mentioned my undiagnosed ADD?  Anyway…

I feel like I can achieve so much, but I don’t know what.

I can finally go after what I really want in life, but I don’t know how.

I have so much faith in myself, but I have stringent doubts.

I’m such a strong person, yet I’m breaking down.

I’m a realist fighing an idealist.

I want to achieve so much, but I feel like I’ve so many limitations.  I’m my own worst critic yet my best cheerleader.  I’m a realist looking for something to set me afloat.  A balloon to be released.  Stomach discomfort accompanied by bloating and gassyness.  Something easily cured…yet so annoying and uncomfortable.  I’m just looking for my antacid in life, damn it.  My Beano.

I’m like a caged bird, a Scottish Mel Gibson…

(Okay, that one doesn’t have much to do with this entry.  I started going with the similes and metaphors and got carried away.  But I’ve always wanted to make a Blingee, so I took the opportunity and ran.  Or charged.  ha-HA.)

Okay, shutting up.

It kind of hit me tonight that I’ve been so hard on myself.  I’ve only done what everyone else out there in the universe tries to do.  I’ve excelled and fallen short,  succeeded and failed, built myself up…but mainly knocked myself down so many times now that I’m not sure I can trust….me.  Anymore.  I’ve tried to be so much to so many different people that now that I’ve actually (and finally) come into my own as an individual, I feel so unsure of myself.  And fickle.  And weary.

Do what you can and do your best, Missy.  Then…wait it out.

Here’s where that annoying “impatience” thing comes into play.

Where’s the Pepto Bismol?

Your Cute Dose

I make this noise every time I think about work.

We Like Traverse

Pringle: A Chip

Taken from BestWeekEver–

Pringles. That strangely addictive dried potato pasty substance that manages to embed itself in every nook and cavity your teeth have to offer. That odd snack food that, when arranged properly, can turn any shmo into a hilariously “r”tarded duck face. That delicate treat that, when crushed, sprinkled with water and microwaved, would likely turn into deliciously buttery mashed potatoes. We’ve spent many a day munching away on pringle after pringle, many an evening breaking furniture when we realize that the delicious snack we’ve been looking forward all day ends up being three tennis balls, and many an overnight clutching our sides in agony as we discover that “Olestra” is an ancient greek word meaning “D-Rhea Attack From Hell”. But throughout this long and varied personal history with Pringles, we never once stopped, looked at it, and though: “WTF IS IT?” Well wonder no longer, world. Because English Lord Justice Robin Jacob has ruled: It’s a chip, mothuhf**kuh!

The Lord Justice Hath Ruled: Pringles Are Potato Chips Britain’s Supreme Court of Judicature has answered a question that has long puzzled late-night dorm-room snackers: What, exactly, is a Pringle? With citations ranging from Baroness Hale of Richmond to Oliver Wendell Holmes, Lord Justice Robin Jacob concluded that, legally, it is a potato chip. Procter & Gamble, in what could be considered a plea for strict construction, argued that Pringles — which are about 40 percent potato flour, but also contain corn, rice and wheat — should not be considered potato chips or “similar products.” Rather, they are “savory snacks.” He was even more dismissive of Procter & Gamble’s argument that to be taxable a product must contain enough potato to have the quality of “potatoness.” This “Aristotelian question” of whether a product has the “essence of potato,” he insisted, simply cannot be answered.

So, there you have it America = Pringles is, in fact, a chip. One that you can make “Pringies Soup” out of. Next week? British courts will debate the veracity of the following statement: “Are Doritos Extreme Enough?” We’ll keep you posted.