stuff and things, part 4,594.

When I play Trivial Pursuit, I always get the pink wedge first.

There is no such thing as, “It smells terrible, but it tastes great.” People always try and convince you to try random items from crazy places with that logic. But there is such a thing as, “It smells great, but tastes terrible.” For example: soap. And old ladies.

I am mildly obsessed with farmyard chickens. Whenever I see one, I want to take a picture. I don’t know what I’ll do with all my chicken pictures, but you can’t deny that “chicken pictures” is an awesome phrase.

50% of the time, the second wedge I get is orange.

I don’t understand people who can’t taste the difference between diet soda and regular soda. It’s like saying you haven’t noticed that someone switched your refreshing beverage for battery acid.

I am only photogenic under very controlled circumstances, much like certain types of bacteria.

Third wedge? Totally blue.

There are two things in life that turn me into a flapping lunatic: bees, and walking through spiderwebs. And Sephora. But that’s in a good way.

I don’t like spice racks. The stuff in the jars always gets dusty and scary and decrepit-looking, and makes me want to put labels like “eye of newt” and “tail of black cat” on them.

Has anyone ever had a good experience sitting in the middle seat of ANYTHING?

All those “Cash 4 Gold” ads confuse me. Who has gobs of gold lying around? It doesn’t seem like a very good business model to target pirates and leprechauns.

Sometimes the blank canvas is much prettier than the art.

Crazy high heels DO make your legs look good, but only if you manage not to walk like you’re a part of the Moon Landing. Or a jellyfish on stilts. Or like your underwear is made out of sandpaper. Or like you’re the Tin Man’s less-flexible sister. Or like… okay, okay, I think you get it.

this is a photo of a baby seal.

He is here to tell you three things:

1. He is very cute!

2. He is a placemarker for the post in which the author of this blog congratulates you for your AMAZING captions for the photo of my mother, and awards the winners with their overdue accolades.

3. The author of this blog is going to mimic his pose just now, and go to sleep.

Hopefully no one will club me, though.

shame… delicious shame.

As the daughter of a father who loves jazz, bespoke clothing and the New York Times Sunday Edition, and a mother who has beautiful taste in interior design, possesses a thorough knowledge of art history, and tends to wear black about 70% of the time, I have no idea how I ended up choosing flip flops as a wardrobe staple, loving the trashiest music of the mid-90′s, and knowing the names of every member of Dog the Bounty Hunter’s family.

Sigh.

Sure, I have many tastes in common with these lovely, cultured people who tried to provide me with classy genes, but I also, well… I read US.

I’ve done posts here inviting people to share their most shameful loves, but every single time I whip people into a confessional frenzy, someone pops up and says, “Why are you ashamed? I really like that stuff, and I don’t see anything wrong with it!”

Which is true, really — the idea of some things as “shameful culture” is highly variable. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and so on.

But we’re not talking about snobbery here. We’re not talking about stuff you proudly love and shout from the rooftops and are a fan of on the Facebook. I ain’t judgin’. Dig what you dig. Be proud. I could give a rat’s ass if EVERY SNAZZY LADY ON THE STREETS OF BOSTON STARED AT MY FLIPPITY FLOPPITY FEET IN DISDAIN.

No, what we’re talking about is the stuff you DO hide because it makes your friends and family groan, the stuff you don’t talk about at the office because your boss would demote you, the stuff you KNOW would make your spouse question your sanity, the stuff you see the WORLD mocking relentlessly… but you?

YOU CANNOT GET ENOUGH.

I want you to out yourself right here.

And I shall do the same.

SHAMEFUL JOYS

(I can hear my dad weeping already)

Million Dollar Listing
New York Fries at the mall with the “Cajun” salty stuff
Cosmopolitan
Singing along with Celine Dion (ONLY CERTAIN SONGS, I SWEAR)
Awards shows (and crying at speeches)
Extreme Home Makeover
I really love the little Polo horse and the little Lacoste alligator on my clothes
The entire Real Housewives franchise
Online personality quizzes
Compulsive lip gloss purchasing
Large, fake, cheap jewelry from Forever 21
Cherry Kool-Aid powder, consumed DRY
Uggs. Really. I want more pairs
Lik-M-Aid
Fake tanning
Boy bands
Anything “Salt N’ Vinegar”
Dance floor hits that rock dentist office Christmas parties: Disco Inferno, ABC, Mambo No. 5, and pretty much anything by C + C Music Factory

… and you?