Mostly I can't choose a team. I'm leaning toward unicorns because they sparkle.

I bought this book called Zombies VS. Unicorns.  And when I say "I bought" I mean "someone in my family gave me a gift card to Barnes and Noble" and when I say "someone in my family" I mean "I can't remember who."

So, yeah, hey family.  I'm totally grateful for your gifts that enable me to buy zombie-unicorn books.

Note the bird-man on top.  Trivia: it's actually a poorly drawn zombie being eaten by a bird.  Awesome.

That is what this book looks like.  Only better.  And...more realistic.  Although I don't know how that's possible, because it would appear that my MS Paint skills have only improved with time.

OMG FINE.  Here.  Click this link.  I HOPE YOU'RE SATISFIED.

Anyway, I was at Barnes and Noble with my boyfriend, just spending the crap out of all my unused Christmas gift cards when suddenly, a shiny black cover gleamed from the recesses of the "Paranormal Teen Novel Fantasy Whatever" section.  Being who I am, I instantly screamed "ZOMBIES VERSUS UNICORNS!!!" I then brushed my fingers lovingly across the cover and whispered solemnly and with all the reverence I could muster, "I must have this."

The great thing about my boyfriend is that he just expects things like this.

When I showed my step-dad he rolled his eyes and said, "Well at least you didn't waste your money," and I was like "I know!  What a buy, right?!" and he rolled his eyes again.  In retrospect, I think he may believe I've wasted my money.

Anyway, I thought this book would be the best purchase I've ever made in my life, and in some ways I was right.  In others...I was so, so wrong.  The book is basically a collection of short stories from various authors on two opposing teams.  I've enjoyed most of the stories so far.  However, there has been bestiality, homosexual naked special hugs, and curse words.  The BAD kind of curse words. 

I'm a prude.  I don't swear.  I'm easily shocked.  But this book is about zombies and unicorns!  It was MADE for me!  But it's so SHOCKING.  But some of the stories are SO GOOD.  But THE PARTIAL NUDITY.

I don't know what to believe anymore.

I think I'll just go get a hot dog.

And so it begins...

Did you know that Utah is freezing?  Freezing enough that I would seriously consider stealing a homeless person's only blanket if I thought it would do any good?  Freezing enough that if you wait too long between blinking, your eye lubrication quickly turns into ice?  SO COLD that the only words I can get out through my chattering teeth are "OHMYGOSH WHY WHY WHY I HATE THIS NO WHY"?  Point is, I don't like it.  Other point is, I'm pretty good at exaggeration.

Well today was one of those probably-colder-than-the-Arctic kind of days.  Luckily for me, I had a crucial test that I had to take for Biology (or as I like to call it, "Bio-dumb-ology." I never said I was clever) and parking at BYU is God's way of reminding me that those stumps of flesh attached to my butt are legs and are, in fact, capable of mobility.  So there I was, making the long and freezing trek back to my car from the testing center when I began to wonder why it was so dark.  I looked up at the sky.  It was filled with menacingly fluffy clouds.  Naturally I gave it a warning look, a look that said "You'd better just STAY clouds.  I don't want any precipitation out of you."

One miserably freezing walk later, I was finally, finally, FINALLY about to open my car door when I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING, a tiny, delicate, beautiful snowflake landed on my sleeve, pristine and perfect.  I blinked once and then immediately squished it in horror.  Waves of disgust rolled through me as I looked around and realized that. it. was. snowing.  It was very light snow, the kind that you might just mistake for a giant with dandruff scratching his head only you know, giants aren't real.  Probably.  I looked up at the sky and I was MAD.

"No.  NO.  DID YOU HEAR ME I SAID NO.  SERIOUSLY, STOP.  I HATE YOU, YOU HEAR?  I HATE YOU."

And I stood there shaking my fist above my head, yelling in the middle of the parking lot.  And now everyone who happened to be nearby (hint: many people) think I have a mental disorder or anger management issues.  If only they understood.

This is no exaggeration, the snow actually began to fall harder and thicker AS SOON AS I EXPRESSED MY FURY.  I don't understand why no one believes that the Universe hates me.  It's taunting me.  It's taunting me and there is no reasonable outlet because you can't just punch the Universe.  I guess I could punch the snow, but that would be awful because HELLO it's cold and wet.  The Universe has found the perfect weapon against me.

I was willing, maybe even hopeful, for a truce between myself and the snow.  I wanted to enjoy its sparkly beauty just like everyone else but, just as the white man and the Native American couldn't reconcile their differences and contagious diseases some 10 odd years ago (right?), I see no hope for peace here.  Except the likelihood that a holiday revolving around food will come from this feud is slim to none so THIS IS EVEN WORSE.

And you'd better believe I just said that this was even worse than that time Pilgrims settled America and virtually everyone died.  I don't know how I managed to end this post on an offensive note, so I guess I just have a talent.  Please send hate mail accordingly.

Sometimes I'm accidently funny without meaning to be. Also, sometimes I spell accidently as "accidentally" because I suck.

Updated:  Apparently it really is spelled "accidentally" and I've been right all along.  So it's kind of like my failure is a success, if you think about it.

I actually was planning on writing a very long illustrated post today, but a friend of mine brought something else to my attention.  Also, I've been working for hours upon hours on a special project for SparkLife, and when you see it you will be all, "THAT took you hours upon hours?" and I will say, "DUDE do you know how long it took me to draw four bears?  DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME?" and then I will indisputably win the argument and you will bask in my glory or whatever.

Anyway, my friend texted me a very long text but mostly what stuck out to me was something that a lot of people have asked me: "How are you so funny?"  He actually worded it differently, but the concept is the same.  And it's a question that a lot of people have emailed me about, and a lot of times they are looking for tips to help them excel at comedy.  So, how am I funny?

Well there's an easy answer to that.  I have no freaking idea.

To be completely honest, I don't think I'm funny at all.  If real life is any indication, I'm just an instigator of awkward conversations.  In actual every day situations my humor falls flat all the time and that's assuming I even know what to talk about to begin with because more than half of my life is spent like this:

Usually when this happens (EVERY DAY) I just run away as quickly as possible and retreat to my dorm room.  I'm still trying to figure out how to be socially acceptable as a human being, but so far most of my attempts at humor and conversation have been so painfully futile, I just don't say anything.  Or I'll go through this really horrible process in which my brain starts grinding against itself and my vocal chords issue forth a horrible buzzing sound.  Inside my head I'm all, "I need to say something.  I'm going to say something about zombies.  But wait!  Previous experience has taught me that talking about zombies is not successful.  What do I talk about, then?  Um, I could talk about how much I hate cheese.  But most people like cheese.  What if he thinks I'm a freak because I don't like cheese?  WHAT DO I DO!?  Oh no.  It's been like 2 minutes.  I should say something.  He's probably offended.  But if I say something now, he'll think I'm an idiot.  Wait, what did he ask me?  I don't know.  Something about zombie cheese.  Ew, gross.  But...in a cool way.  I would totally like zombie cheese.  Not to eat, but just to look at for a minute."  And then by the time I formulate an acceptable answer, my conversational partner is gone and by then my brain is trying to bash it's way out of my idiotic skull anyway so it doesn't really matter.

But here, on the magical world of the internet, I have found that everything is wonderful and full of love and happiness and puppies and puppy-ness.  And videos of cats in boxes!  And EVERYONE likes zombies!  And suddenly, I'm funny.  But I haven't ever been funny before.  That's why I'm at a total loss as to answering your questions, see?  People ask how to be funny or how to make their blogs funny and I'm just all "Uuuuuummmmm......" and then I start giggling nervously and talking about spaceships because I'm scared that my secret will be revealed and everyone will realize that I'm not funny at all.  So here are my comedy tips: 

1.  Be funny.

2.  Don't be not funny.

3.  When in doubt, draw a really terrible picture of yourself.

4.  When that doesn't work, wallow in self-pity.

5.  Mention glitter as often as possible.  Also, think about dinosaurs a lot.

6.  Be mildly offensive.

7.  Draw more things.

8.  Read blogs that you think are funny and try to draw some inspiration.

9.  Be pretentious and immature.

10.  Eat debilitating amounts of junk food.

...And that's about it.  That's all I've got so far.  I'm learning, brothers and sisters.  Thank you for liking me, because I certainly like you back.  Let's be together forever.

This is why I never reply. Ever. Except for my own amusement.

I don't really like checking my email. I think email is very important, I wouldn't be able to function without it, but I have this problem. It goes like this.

First, I do something. It's always something seemingly harmless. I apply for something important. I email a person who I'd like to talk to. I sign up for the hourly official penguin newsletter. All normal, healthy investments of time. Then, I frolic about, thinking to myself "I can internet! I have this interneting thing in the bag! I'm inter-lectual!" My day continues on as normal. I read a few favorite blogs, I drink a few glasses of water, I try to incorporate the word "perspicacious" into everyday conversation, I make a few awkward and inappropriate comments on various Facebook walls...you know, just stuffz. By the time I go to bed at night I'm thinking "Email, you made my day awesome. I'm going to make an 'I HEART EMAIL' shirt. I'm going to wear it to the mall. Everyone will be jealous. Goodnight, email."

Oh, email. I love you, email.

The next day, I ignore email. It's wrong. It's insensitive. But I don't even think about email. I just look up pictures of cats and eat pizza.

Pretty soon, a few days have passed. I think to myself "I should check that one thing" but I don't actually follow through on that impression. I kind of get sidetracked. Of course, being me, a few more days go by. Suddenly, I haven't checked that email thing in several weeks. All of my important applications, all of my conversations, all of my hourly newsletters...suddenly, they evoke a strange feeling in me. The word "hourly" gives me a weird cringy feeling deep within my being. What made me think I could handle an hourly newsletter? Penguins? What?! I don't even LIKE penguins! They're creepy, and they live in the cold, and nothing should be that adorable!

I get this odd sensation. Not quite guilt. Not quite apprehension. I call it "crap, I bet when I check my email, I'll have things I need to do. THINGS."



Inbox: 256 messages

From: spammyspam@isuck.scam Subject: EARN 328974kajillion dollars!@
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Breeding patterns of penguins
From: personwhoknowsme@yay.com Subject: ...Are you dead? email me back.
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: An Egg-tastic ice-capade!
From: importantcollegestuff@filloutthisform.com Subject: Yo, do this or you out, girl.
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Solving the flight crisis
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Penguin feather fashion 101
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Penguincide-we care
From: emailservice@mailymailmail.com Subject: Upgrade your inbox, fool.
From: emailservice@mailymailmail.com Subject: ...Um...there IS a delete button
From: taylorlautner@hotsexybody.com Subject: Hey, answer in ten and come chill!

Page: 1 Skip to page: 1, 2, 3, 4...23



I look at this and I cringe. So...read the email. Right. This is the point where my enhanced endurance kicks in and I'm all "alright email. Let's do this."


Spam: deleted!
Penguins: breeding, educated about!
Friend: ignored out of embarrassment!
Penguins: so cute!
College: form completed!
Penguins: flight crisis, noted!
Penguins: fashion forward!
Penguins: dead!
Email service: ignored!
Email service: double ignored!
Taylor Lautner: WAHHHAHAHIEONG!

Man, I am on a roll. That only took me twenty minutes! Awesome! I am a capable person! I am educated about penguin affairs! I am ready to take on the....wait...how many more pages? Um...well...gee. One page of email has been taken care of...I think that's pretty good. In fact, I'm hungry. Can't check email on an empty stomach, now, can I? And off I go to make dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.

The next day, being all email-conscientious and whatnot, I decide to apply for some things, subscribe to another newsletter about current events, and you know what? Hey, Facebook, is there a way to be notified by email whenever anyone does anything on you that vaguely affects me? There is? Well heck, sign me up!

Days pass, weeks pass, and one day, I get that feeling again...that "awwww man. EMAIL." feeling.

Click, click, click...SHOOTDANG, YOU'RE KIDDING ME.


Inbox: 638 messages

From: currentstuff@probablytragic.com Subject: Obscure president assassinated-act now!
From: application@appsareus.com Subject: Maybe you want to apply for this too
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: Krill is good for eating!
From: scamerificspam@virus.usuck Subject: FREE UNICORN!!!!
From: facebook@socialnetworking.net Subject: This person just said this thing about you
From: caringfriend@thoughtful.com Subject: Worried about you. Speak to me.
From: currentstuff@probablytragic.com Subject: Massive explosion-sign explosion petition!
From: penguinsrcool@hourly.com Subject: A penguin Hanukkah
From: facebook@socialnetworking.net Subject: This may have something to do with you.
From: collegestuff@gotoschool.com Subject: Expensive books that you need to have
From: currentstuff@probablytragic.com Subject: Iranian babies fed bad milk. ZOMG!

Page:1 Skip to page: 1, 2, 3, 4...58

......but.....but.....

Whaaaaa?

I stare at the computer screen for a moment, daunted by the immense task ahead of me. I curse myself for not having finished my email-management several weeks ago. I question my need for penguin news. I promptly decide that I require penguin news in order to live. Sighing, I gather up all the vestiges of focus floating around in my body and attack with surprising relish.


Current events: president, cared about!
Application: heck yes, I want to apply for that!
Penguins: krill, a good diet indeed!
Unicorn: virus, attained!
Facebook: oh no she didn't!
Friend: assurances, offered!
Current events: explosion, oh noes!
Penguins: culture, accepted!
Facebook: does not relate to me at all!
College: books, ordered!
Current events: NOT THE BABIES!!

And like a coiled viper, she strikes! On to page 2! You hear that, email? Take that! We are no longer friends, and look at me kick your butt. Bet you didn't see that one coming, eh, email? Bet you're shaking in your emaily-boots. Bet you're calling your email mommy and--Hey I'm hungry. Can't check email on an empty stomach, right? Past experience has taught me that much. Well! Chicken nuggets, ahoy!

And the next morning, I think to myself "Hey, I should probably get more email stuff going here! Newsletters!! I bet there's a newsletter about pharmaceutical malpractice! Yay!" and I DO IT. I SIGN UP. BECAUSE I'M A FOOL. Eventually this whole process degenerates into guilt and denial. I don't email people back because I'm scared of reminding them that they emailed me to begin with, and also that would remind them that I have a level of responsibility comparable to a five-year-old boy who refuses to bathe. I pretend that my email isn't a problem. I grieve over that ever-growing pile of data, filling a tiny corner of the internet with useless junk that even I don't care about enough to read. At this point, I have two correspondences that I actually keep track of, one being an important person out of state, the other, an important person out of the country. I brace myself on appointed days when I know they will email, and dive into the sea of endless crap, typing and clicking as fast as my brain and dexterity will allow.

At this point, I even dread opening my email inbox. It taunts me. One day, one glorious day, I shall vanquish this foe. Until then, I'll probably just keep surfing the internet aimlessly, signing up for newsletters that pertain to absolutely nothing I want to know anything about. Kind of like this blog. Suck it, emailz.

Annoying stuff that I'm going to rant about, even though I do them all the time. Which is probably why they're so obnoxious to begin with.

There are always these things that people do and I'm all "GAR HOW DARE YOU DO THAT THING THAT IS BOTHERING ME!!!" and then whoever is doing that thing looks at me like I'm crazy just because I'm yelling and sound vaguely like a grizzled pirate. This post is about a few of those things.

1. People who are obsessed with magical unicorn sparkles

This is point number one on the case to get me kicked off the internet, since I'm totally obsessed with magical unicorn sparkles. AND THEREIN LIES THE PROBLEM. See...not everyone can love rainbows and princesses. If EVERYONE did, I would look like a stupid poser. I practically invented unicorn-obsession. I have a reputation to protect.

You see, I love glitter. It's my favorite color. I want a pet unicorn. I do. I do so bad. But then some special little...GIRL WHO ACTS LIKE ME comes along and guess what her favorite color is? It's glitter. And how many times has she tried to order a baby unicorn online? 56 times. Which is one more than me. And immediately, I think "you're going down, you fool."



Oh. It's on.

Not. Cool. Get your own interests, kid.
You threaten a six-year-old ONE TIME and suddenly you're not allowed near the children or kool-aid. Whatever.

2. People who awkwardly look at me while I'm driving


I do this all the time. I mean ALL the time. There's hardly anything interesting about other people when they're driving, but if someone magically summons a dragon while driving in the lane next to me, I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT.

I just don't like it when people do it to me, because if I actually knew how to summon dragons in my car, I wouldn't HAVE A CAR. I'd have a magical flying dragon. So you don't have to look at me. Nothing going on over here. Except that I think you're laughing at my hair. It's not THAT bad, okay?

And people who watch me while I drive make me feel...uncomfortable. It's like they're waiting for me to kill a pedestrian or forget to use my blinky thingy. (Blinky-majig? Blinkermatron? ...Whatever.)

WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M UNSTABLE AND AM ALREADY IMAGINING FIERY DEATH AS A DIRECT RESULT OF YOUR STARING, PROBING EYES?! IT'S LIKE THE ANGEL OF DOOM IS EYEBALLING ME IN THE NEXT LANE.




3. People who overreact.

Do I overreact? Never. Except for that one time when my brother and his friend were fighting over a lollipop and it got stuck to my forehead and I started crying in the backseat of the minivan. Or that time when this kid was at my house and he shot a rubber band at my leg, and I immediately started screaming, and, through my tears, I ordered him to leave my house forever. Or that night when I accidentally set the oven on fire making bagel bites, so I sent a bunch of delirious texts to my friend Braeden about how I was going to die and HELP ME FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. I may also have called him, but I don't remember. (In retrospect, maybe that one wasn't an overreaction.)

But when OTHER PEOPLE overreact, I'm suddenly the Superman of All Things Ever. I'm all "Psh! A spider on the wall? I squish wall-spiders every Thursday afternoon, right after swimming with Great White Sharks but before fire-eating practice. You weak, puny, human, with your irrational fears and weak puniness."




4. Blurry pictures drawn on paint

......moving on.


5. People who get grumpy for no reason


My feelings are tender. When people are grumpy, it makes me want to cry. And shoot them in the head with a machete. And since that's impossible, I want to cry even more. And then nobody is giving me diamonds, and I'm not watching a Disney movie, and the grumpy person IS STILL GRUMPY and I'm all "SHUT UP, I HAVE PROBLEMS TOO, YOU KNOW."

I get grumpy when I'm tired. Or hungry. When I'm tired AND hungry? Well...



But is it ever okay for other people to be like this? The answer to that is a firm and resolute no. Absolutely not.

When other people are in a bad mood, I have to be all considerate and crap. And even if I am considerate, a grumpy person doesn't care. Dude. I'm *never* considerate. BE HAPPY.

Also, I'm socially incapable, so I'm likely to say something like "Yeah? Well I don't care if you've had a bad day, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE KARATE CHOPPED IN THE CALF MUSCLE??! HEYAHHHH!" And then I have no friends again.



Another thing I hate is writing when I don't feel like it.



I'm very sure I'll add more to this list...eventually. I hate deadlines.