Geocaching

My mom sent me an e-mail not too long ago asking if I had ever tried geocaching because it sounded like something that was really up my alley (it does! it is!). I knew what it was and I had looked into it, but I hadn’t ever really gone. I don’t know why. So I dug a little bit and decided: this is it, Saturday afternoon I am going to go geocaching. It’s exercise combined with a SUPER SECRET treasure hunt.

I did a LOT of research into it. And I don’t know if you’ve ever tried geocaching, but their site is a treasure hunt in and of itself. 

I eventually figured out how to look at the difficulty levels and the proximity to my house (though the symbols totally eluded me; I was not even making that angel thing up. Do you DIE on that search???!). I chose my course carefully. I picked one that was about a mile and a half away and planned to jog to the park and back for a little exercise. I slept Friday night dreaming the dreams of kings.

I awoke and drank my coffee for the day.

I got dressed. I PREPARED. I prepared for RICHES and ADVENTURES!

So I started my jog. The jog was completely uneventful. It was hot? but not a bad run at all -- and I hate running. I reached my destination easily. Now I had to find the “cache”. Noooo problem. I prepared my stealthy face so no one would be “on” to me because if there was one thing I learned from the geocaching community, it’s that you better keep those damn caches a SECRET.

I couldn’t find it! I had NO IDEA where this thing was. You see, I didn’t know what I was looking for. I had pinpointed roughly where the object should’ve been and had the riddle (I thought) sussed out but there was NOTHING. I kept looking out of sheer stubbornness.

I started to give up being stealthy and just openly tore the park apart looking for a “cache”. Was it gold? was it duct taped? was it a pot, a pan, a bit of tupperware? I didn’t KNOW.

I completely abandoned any secrecy about the treasure hunt while nice, fine people who wanted to enjoy their day at the park with their kids openly stared, slack-jawed, at this freak in running shorts tearing open their park. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I tried pathetically to keep up the charade.

But I knew it was over. Geocaching had won. It had defeated me. I had no idea where that mysterious object was hidden. And as I realized that if I didn’t leave, someone would start to assume I was a psycho serial killing child molester, I gave one last forlorn look over the park. 

Defeated, I jogged back to my house with a heavy heart, desperately telling myself that I could come back. That it wasn’t over yet. That at least I got some exercise.

But I knew. I knew deep down:

It was over. 

I tried to keep my interest going. I looked up other, presumedly easier caches, but I think the effort was feigned at best.


UPDATE: Hi, geocachers. Welcome!


I'm really sorry I have ruined the game by being completely conspicuous in my search. Please don't be mad. :(

Eggs vs. THE WORLD!

I was recently trying to tweak a cookie recipe to make it a little more healthy. The only stuff I found online to alter the recipe to a “low-fat” version called for me to omit the egg yolks. That was it. That was the only tweak.

Egg yolks.

Are not.

Unhealthy.

Things that are: sugar. And butter.

Here, I made you a diagram so you have a nice, easy way to remember:

Eggs are not bad for you and it drives me insane  that somewhere, at some point, eggs (and their yolks) were made into the bad guys. Everyone go eat an egg to stick it to the dumb people who think butter is more acceptable than eggs. Happy SUNDAY!

Facebook vs. Twitter!

I'm on a weird Facebook kick, I guess!

Please enjoy another guest post at idaconcpts. This one is a battle of the two social networks. Click here to go visit!

ALSO PLEASE ENJOY THIS SCREENSHOT.

(Totally unrelated parenthetical question. Would you guys rather the comments be something other than blogger’s platform? I’ve noticed it’s probably rather hard to carry on a conversation -- you don’t know when people reply. What do you like?)

P.S.: This will be my last guest post for a bit; I'm going to concentrate on bringing you some more all-original content so hang tight!

Facebook: THE RECKONING. Your Parents ARE HERE!

Hey, guys! I was asked to write another guest post for these guys; this time, the topic is “parents on Facebook”, which got me thinking. My parents are both on Facebook and it doesn’t really bother me (it’s nice, actually, because I can update them without feeling bad about not calling). But I am preeeeeetty sure my mom twinks at Farmville.

(Mom: Before you ask. Twinking is just like cheating, for the internet! But it’s Farmville so no one cares. Twink away, Mom!)

She also had the following conversation with me recently via a Facebook message (why not an e-mail, Mom?)

Mom: Hey, what do you think about a visit <these dates>.

Me: Yes! Sure! Sounds good.

Mom: How are things?

Me: Oh, good, blahblahblah. Did this and that. Blahblahblah.

Mom: How’re the cats/Brad/your house?

Me: Finefineblahbalhblah, conversation, etc.

Mom: Okay, well, let me know about a visit asap! 

What? Didn’t we already establish this, Mom? This isn’t a movie that we rewind and watch; the textual evidence is right there!* 

So anyway: for your reading pleasure, click on over to the guest post and embark upon the journey of the end of your Facebooky life once your parents join Facebook.

*A ludicrously adorable trait of my mother’s -- she can watch a movie, rewind it, and watch it again without a clue in the world what happens. I could be in it, she wouldn’t remember.

P.S.: Mom? I’m cool with you on Facebook. I used my IMAGINATION for this post.

Please click HERE for the guest post and enjoy a screenshot below.

This Is Not Really An "UPDATE"

...I just... I got my very first spammer today? And, um. I um. I wanted to SHARE THIS WITH YOU.

I just felt so full of self-worth and excitement. I couldn't let it sit. I had to let you know. I mean, today's earnings were $510.24! If only I had known about this really amazing... (really amazing what, Marcelo Pena?! I assume it's a work-at-home job) I don't know what the crap I'm doing now if it's not "work" at home. 

P.S.: I’ve tried to make the Google Ads on the sidebar a little less awful; I told it to ban ads for cosmetic surgery, diet pills, sex junk, and probably some other crap I think is just offensive for you guys to see (do YOU want a computer telling you about a diet pill to make getting your boobs done easier? /I/ don’t). If those ads pop up for you for some reason, please let me know! I’d just hate for anyone reading what should be a very light-hearted comic to glance to the side and feel all ANGRY. Like this:

2010 Fashion Tips: What's in Style!

In which a total nerd tells you what’s cool. 

I’m going to preemptively preempt this by saying quickly: this is not a fashion blog. This wasn’t even supposed to be a post for this blog! I just didn’t know where else to put it because it just got longer and longer -- it got away from me. IT GREW. 

Guys, let’s talk about things that aren’t cool. Things that simply are not cool. I see a lot of uncoolness floating around and I’m pretty sure this handy list here will help us ALL avoid some of the pitfalls of uncool-i-ness.

Let’s start off slow. 

There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? No one’s surprised by this (right???) -- fanny packs Are Not Cool. 

Here’s another easy one:

I know that the sun isn't clothing, I just wanted to wait for everyone to catch up. Also, sunburn is never cool. Okay, we’re all on the same page now, right?

Let’s move on to something a little more advanced.

I know it seems cool NOW to dress like a hobo, but when you look back on this in ten years, you’re going to feel really. REALLY. REALLY!!!!!! stupid. Unless you a) are a hobo or b) are going to fully commit and have the little hobo stick-kerchief accessory (in which case, I SALUTE YOU and YOU WIN LIFE), stop dressing like you have negative twenty four cents.

I also think it’s very uncool for shorts to cost more than pants.

I’ll say it again.

SHORTS. cost MORE DOLLARS. than PANTS.

You can just sit on that one for a while.

High waistlines are “in” or “back” or whatever stupid jargon we use.

WHY ARE YOU IN AND/OR BACK, HIGH WAISTLINES?

You weren’t flattering then and you aren’t flattering now! When your most famous fashionista was Urkel, it’s time to just ride into the sunset and never return.

Speaking of horribly unflattering...

Maybe four people in the world can wear capri pants without looking like they’re waiting for a flood (One day, though. One day, they’ll be right.

) or their pants (and I use the term loosely) are about to explode off their normal-sized-human-thighs. These four people are all eighty seven feet tall and have the bodies of a Barbie doll and I’m 98% certain they’re Cylons. So they don’t even COUNT, you guys. 

I’ll leave you with one more.

No, two more, because I have to put in a P.S. at the bottom of this entry.

Let’s talk mukluks. 

What’s a mukluk?

It’s sort of an even stupider Ugg.

I’m not even sure I need to say anything about this -- but just in case some of you want to look like a worn out Clydesdale, I’ll put it out there. 

Clothing is meant for warmth. It is also meant for storage and for protection. I’ll acquiesce that there is a degree of artistry and personal expression in the clothing industry and there has been for centuries, but the bottom line of clothing is function. Your clothes should be functional. And until someone can explain the functionality of THIS:

You can just keep walking.

P.S.: While I was researching what’s cool this season for this entry (because I sure as crap have no real idea), I discovered that lingerie as outerwear is a thing. A thing as in, it’s “cool”. And my first, visceral reaction was, “Holy Fuck, what?! YOU CAN SEE HER BOOB. YOU CAN’T WALK AROUND LIKE THAT.” But then I thought about it some more and this is what I’ve come up with:

I don’t have to get dressed in the morning at all.

Think about it -- 2010 could be the year of lazy dressing. I can roll out of bed in my skivvies and tumble to work* and if someone gives me guff about it, I can be all like: No, guys, it’s IN this season! And if everyone’s doing it, it’s gold! Lazy gold!

It’ll be like THIS, but ALL THE TIMES.

* (I don’t have a job.)

P.P.S.: I totally rescind the above “clothing is for warmth” crap if it means I can roll out of bed and go places without having to get dressed or be uncomfortable.