You Say It’s Your Birthday!

I think one of the reasons we have kept this blog running for so long is so that we can do our annual Happy Birthday posts to one another.

Addie, however, had the bad luck of being born three days after Christmas when I have just made it through the whirlwind of another holiday with the fam and my brain is completely mush. But for her sake, I’m straining to gather my few remaining brain cells in order to write her the hilarious, witty blog post she deserves.

Addie, you are a QUARTER OF A CENTURY OLD after all.

In honor of reaching that milestone (way before me) here is a random assortment of facts and figures to make you feel old special.

In 1986…

…the first inductions into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame took place, and included Chuck Berry, James Brown, Ray Charles, Fats Domino, Everly Brothers, Buddy Holly, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Elvis Presley.

…Belinda Carlisle (from the Go Go’s) got married.

…Tommy Lee and Heather Locklear got married.

…Queen had their final tour with all the original members.

…Tina Turner got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

…the Monkees reunited.

Also in 1986…

…Nintendo released The Legend of Zelda.

…The Space Shuttle Challenger blew up.

…the worst ever Nuclear Disaster occurs as the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Station Explodes causing the release of radioactive material across much of Europe.

…a gallon of gas was $0.89.

…approximately 6.5 million people held hands in a human chain for 15 minutes during Hands Across America.

…Top Gun was released.

…Walk Like An Egyptian, by the Bangles, was released.

…Ronald Reagan was President.

…the last season of Knight Rider aired.

Obviously, 1986 was a pretty big year! God created you, and still had time to make sure “Dancing on the Ceiling” made it to the top of the charts.

Have you had enough fun yet?

What’s that?

You want MORE birthday fun facts?

Okay….

Did you know you share a birthday with Denzel Washington? I put a card in the mail for him from the both of us, just letting him know about the connection. I’m sure he will be getting in contact with us soon. I can see it now…

Hey girl. I heard you and I have something in common.

OMG! OMG!

Why don't you slip into a sexy little number and come on over to my place?

I can be there in less than five minutes.

…way to ruin it.

Well I hope you have a very Happy Birthday anyway!!

I love you!

-N.

P.S. This is the Calvin and Hobbes from the day you were born. :)

Do We Really Need A Timeline?

I recently switched over to the “new” Facebook, Timeline.

At first I was like

But then I was like

I feel like a mouse in a lab who was tricked into doing one of those maze experiments. At first it’s like, okay cool there is cheese here. Cheese is good. But then as you are walking along towards the cheese, they suddenly throw another wall up, blocking your path. Fine, you just find another route. Just when you are getting the hang of the new path though, they throw up yet another wall to confuse you. Then, just when you’re starting to get comfortable with the way things are, they replace the cheese with a spinning top, throw a dinosaur in your path and give you a tiny mouse sling shot, totally changing the game. But by the time you realize what the hell happened, you’re dead.

Preeeeetty sure something similar is happening over in the world of Facebook.

Or not.

I don’t know, maybe I got too caught up in the story.

I admit, I thought Timeline would be pretty sweet. And it does have some cool features. And yeah, I’ll probably end up loving it.

But.

It has also made it way easier for people (including myself) to see what a huge jackass I used to be.

(Used to be? Okay, still am. But I’m way better at hiding it on Facebook. My mom’s on there now, bro!)

Do I really need to see the profound comments I made about life when I was a senior in high school? All the boob jokes I thought were hilarious? The awful pictures documenting bad haircuts, drunken college escapades and overall questionable judgement?

I don’t want to remember all the dumb things I’ve ever said.

Everything you thought was safely tucked away in your Facebook past is suddenly going to be back in your Facebook present.

I spent the first thirty minutes or so looking over everything, and mostly doing this

Then I just gave up.

Like that poor dead mouse.

(See what I did there? …Anybody? …No? Okay then.)

-N.

Braaaaaaaiiiiinssss! Seriously, anyone?

As you all know, next year is election year.

Actually, based on what you are googling to get you here, some of you probably aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed so maybe you didn’t know that. (Looking at you, whoever googled “where is my labia”.)

In any case, you know now.

I know we normally try and stay away from any political commentary (mainly because it doesn’t interest us), but I have a feeling there will be at least a little bit of political discourse within the next year. You can expect any posts regarding the Presidential elections to be written with our usual tact and respectful tone. (So, plenty of boobie jokes!)

Ok, I know you are all dying to know what I look for in a President and my thoughts on the current GOP candidates.

The most important quality the President can have, in my humble opinion, is someone who can lead us safely through the Zombie Apocalypse.

Frankly, I don’t think any of the current candidates are up to the challenge.

And something tells me President Obama would hole up somewhere protected by a hundred giant men with rifles before the first Zombie head could roll.

Good luck suckers!

The kind of leader I’m looking for is someone who will not only keep his cool and handle the situation, but also won’t be afraid to get in there and kick some zombie ass of his own.

Who are my top choices for 2012? In no particular order:

Ash Williams. He kicks some serious deadite butt in the Evil Dead franchise, while still maintaining his sense of humor. He hacks his way through deadites, while tossing around zingy one-liners and flirting with the ladies. Plus, he’s got a chainsaw for a hand.

Shaun Riley. In Shaun of the Dead, this guy manages to keep himself and his girlfriend alive through the Zombie Apocalypse. And even though his best friend is turned into a zombie, he keeps him tied up and playing video games in the shed. Loyal, funny, and able to keep himself alive. Check, check, check.

How about a Kirk and Spock ticket for 2012? I know they don’t have any hands on zombie experience, but they’ve certainly dealt with their fair share of alien monsters and weird shit. Spock will be the calm, logical one who helps everyone with ways to survive and evacuation. And Kirk will make the hard decisions and be in charge of our military forces against the zombs.

Bill Pullman. (But only if he is in character for Thomas Whitmore from Independence Day.) Seriously. He has clearly demonstrated that he has the ability to save the world from a hostile alien invasion. He can deliver a speech so moving it will band us together despite our differences and inspire us to bring the hammer down on some zombie ass. Plus, he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. When I’m running a flaming zombie body over in my car, I want to be able to look over and see the President standing over a zombie corpse, holding its disgusting zombie head high and shouting “this is our Independence Day!!!!!”

Can you see these people doing that?

Too soft.

Too bat shit crazy.

Too likely to sexually harrass a lady zombie and get his brains eaten.

Too old.

So you can see why I’m pretty stumped over our options for 2012.

It’s looking like whatever way you cut it, we’re pretty much screwed.

-N.

PS. Find me on twitter and tweet funny things at me! (Nicsigni)

You’s a Douche!

I have a really really difficult time feeling any sort of sympathy for Kim Kardashian. The girl has millions of dollars (for doing jack) and just can’t seem to make a relationship work. BOO FRIGGIN’ HOO! I have nowhere near a million dollars and I’m single…anyone feel bad? Didn’t think so. I think that at one time she had a brain, but she sat on it…and her huge butt ate it.

Like two lumpy baked hams

Here at TGOB we like to give out a little award we so eloquently call the Biggest Douchebag Award. We don’t give them out too often. That doesn’t mean we don’t think the world is riddled with douchebags. I assure you, it is. We just take this award seriously. It is only to be bestowed upon the cream of the cream, the dumbest of the dumb, the douchbaggiest of the douchbaggiest, if you will. Kim Kardashian, you fit the bill!

According to my sources…coughwikipediacough and coughpeoplemagazinecough…the couple spent a butt-ton on the wedding (well someone did) and made nearly 18 million. That’s about $250,000.00 for each day they were married. Kim’s mom says “She needs to do what she’s doing now and cry and figure it out.” I have a better idea. How about she never be allowed to get married again and be sterilized in case she thinks having a baby can make her some cash.

Food for thought, peeps. No one in the world is causing more harm to the sanctity of marriage than morons who don’t take it seriously. Gay, straight, whatever your orientation, if you’re in love and want to truly spend the rest of your life honoring and cherishing another human, you have all my respect and well wishes. In fact, I’d love to come to your wedding! Unless it’s a dry wedding…cuz…uh…I’m super busy that day…

According to one of N’s sources, an astrologist states that based on her star pattern, Kim is really hurting and learning from her mistakes. Doubt it! I bet I felt worse about dropping that Reese’s piece on the floor today than she does about this whole ordeal. (I still ate it)

The girl got what she wanted and what she wanted was cash. That is why Kim is our newest Biggest Douchebag!

Congrats!

-A.

Mom Moves

My name is Nicole, and I am a bad blogger.

But, in my defense, a lot has been going on. As you can see by Adrian’s last post, she is finally an adult. Let’s give her a round of applause!

(I didn’t clap either.)

Congrats on finally moving out, Addie.

And I think I speak for everyone when I say, please continue to update us on all your adventures- especially the ones involving hockey players.

What’s my excuse for slacking? I moved, popped out a kid, started writing a book, and decided to start growing out my hair. All of which you can look forward to hearing about in any and all future posts. (Also, does the phrase ‘popped out a kid’ leave anyone else with some disturbing imagery?)

Actually, I probably won’t post much about the kidlet unless she does something really amazing/funny like saying “robot” or “crotch” as her first word. (My mom would literally crap her pants if my kid started saying “crotch”. She finds that word oddly upsetting- which may be why I have already used it twice in this post. I’m a really good daughter. Crotch.)

There is one thing about parenting I would like to touch on though, and that is all the wicked dance moves I’ve learned. You know when you see someone out on the dance floor at a wedding awkwardly wiggling her hips and snapping to the music, and you shake your head and say to yourself, “classic mom move”. Because moms seem to go out of their way to embarrass us, right?

Wrong.

Apparently when you become a mom, you instantly become a really terrible dancer. And for someone like me, who already moved around the dance floor like a discombobulated chicken, it brings out such horrible dancing it should be banned from anywhere people are gathered.

I will do anything to keep my baby from screaming, and that includes waving my arms above my head like a lunatic and singing Reba McEntire’s “Fancy” at the top of my lungs. Or kicking my legs in kick-line fashion while my upper body does the malfunctioning robot. Some classic moves I am not ashamed to say I bust out regularly are the sprinkler, raise the roof, the grocery cart and the Elaine.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It is totally okay to be jealous.

-N.

I make curbing my dog look gooooood.

I recently took a position out-of-state, packed up my entire life and moved out on my own for the first time. I haven’t been on my own for an entire week yet and I’ve already learned quite a few things I never knew….I’ve also had to deal with some pretty bizarre stuff. As you know, here at TGOB we love to share (stories, not food), so I’m going to share some happenings from the past few days.

My dog weighs 100lbs and I have to walk him multiple times a day because he will not do his doo in the private, fenced in area behind the apartment. This shocks me because he LOVES to crap on pavement! Nope, he’d rather drop a huge deuce on the sidewalk so that EVERYONE can see me have to scrape it up with a baggy to throw it in the dumpster. A guy actually rolled down his window last night and yelled “Yeah baby, you make that look good!” as I was hunched over, picking up poo.

Not done with the dog stories. Last night, after I made picking up poop look good, I forgot that I had left treats in the pocket of my sweater when I threw it over the back of the couch. When I came out of the bathroom about a minute later, Turner was sitting in the corner looking like he usually does after eating one of my shoes. I quickly scanned the carpet for a gallon of pee and realized that my sweater was on the ground…with a hole chewed in the pocket. My fault.

The guy upstairs apparently plays minor league hockey. I’m pretty sure he does it in his apartment between the hours of 10 and 12 every night. He isn’t that big, but I’m convinced he straps on 3,000lb weights and stomps around up there while checking the hinges on every single door in the place at least 20 times. I think I’ll buy him cushy slippers for Christmas and just leave them on his doormat.

I need to stop cooking for 12 people and then eating it because I don’t want to waste. It isn’t easy cooking for one, but I’m going to gain 500lbs if I don’t learn soon!

I usually come home, take T for a walk, make dinner then sit on the couch and wonder why the hell the place is freezing. Then, I remember that I am in charge of turning the heat up at night. It was easier when Mom did that.

Getting lost is the best way to find things in a new city. On average, I get lost twice a day and always find something that excites me. That’s how I found Petco today and a really huge, unidentified building yesterday.

Getting lost can also be scary. Like Tuesday. I got lost on my way to a meeting I was observing. Corn in all directions and no GPS because I was in BFE.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! If I weren’t amazing with directions I’d still be lost.

The two best things about living alone are the acceptable attire and the food selection. Clothing is optional and I can eat chocolate chip waffles or chips and dip for dinner if I want.

All in all, I’m learning a lot that I never knew, I appreciate my parents more than I ever did and I’m spending a lot of time in my birthday suit.

Life is good.

-A.

Judgement Day- Will You Be Raptured?

As most of you by now know, May 21st, 2011 has been determined to be Judgement Day.  How do we know? Well luckily we have the wise insight and infallible math skills of this guy:

Harold Camping, Bible interpreter extraordinaire. He was able to read through the entire Bible (or skim ahead to the relevant bits) and determine that tomorrow at 6pm the Rapture will take place.

Here’s how ol’ Harry says it’s going to go down.

First, at 2am NY time, there will be a giant earthquake, everyone will start to cry because they know the end is coming, “saved” individuals will be taken up to be with God while the rest of you guys are left to endure – essentially- hell on Earth until October 21st when the world will officially come to an end.

But how does he know all of this?

You poor shmucks. The answer is obvious. If you’ve ever read the Bible (which I doubt many of you heathens have) it practially jumps off the page to slap you in the face.

Okay, God told Noah about the flood 7 days before it began. BUT. As we learn later on in the Bible, “a day is as a thousand years.” (2 Peter 3:18) Are you with me? That means we technically were given seven thousand years to escape distruction. Noah preached this exactly seven thousand years ago.

Okay, people? It really could not be more clear. I, for one, need no further proof. I’ll be sending Mr. Camping a check ASAP. (Oh, forgot to mention. Harold suggests, and I agree, that we stop giving money to our respective churches and send the money straight to him instead.)

And for those of you party poopers who want to undermine Harold’s message by pointing out his past rapture predictions, I just want to point out that practice makes perfect.

And he has had plenty of practice.

His first prediction was September 6th of 1994. He then changed the date 8 more times (as each day came and went without the expected fire and brimstone). That is a LOT of practice, my friends.

I think we’ve established that he is, indeed, legit.

My fellow blogger, and long time sinner, Adrian brings up a good point. She wants to know what are the rest of us you guys supposed to do once the saved get taken? From what I can gather, it’s going to get preeeetty ugly down here (apocalypse style). Frankly, I think you’re going to be too busy cutting heads of zombies and dodging flaming swords to get much done.

I think the big question on everyone’s mind is “will I be one of the saved?”

I’m very sorry to say… probably not. Of course, as Harry points out, only God really knows. (True. I mean, just because he’s got the shriveled old person balls to declare when the world will end despite several passages in the Bible that say no one can know when that will be, doesn’t mean he feels comfortable giving a ball park estimate of how many people will be Raptured. Oh wait, he predicts 200 million.)

The good news is there will most likely be plenty of time to reform and get ready for the next Rapture once this one has come and gone.

-N.

**If you want to read an interview with Harold Camping click here to get a taste of the crazy for yourself. (I suggest not clicking on the link about the man who put his life savings into a campaign about this crap. It’s just depressing.)

Douchebag Award Time!

 
Nothing makes us feel better about ourselves and our own lives than passing judgement on others and giving out Biggest Douchebag Awards.

This award is reserved for people who do things that are so ridiculous that your mother would call them a douchebag (and then look around in surprise like she didn’t even know she knew that word).

Today, we’re a little behind on the times, but we just can’t let this man off without some sort of acknowledgement of his douchebaggery.

"I'm serious."

 

That, friends, is Pastor Terry Jones. You probably remember him as the man who was planning on burning a Quran on the anniversary of September 11th last year. (Yeah, he’s pretty awesome.)

 

His grand plans for that day may not have worked out, but that didn’t stop him. Last month, he burned the Quran after it was found guilty in a trial at his church.

 

You may be wondering what a trial for a book would look like.

 

I think it will be best for everyone if I use some visuals here. (And yes, this wonderful artwork was created by my skillful hand.)

 

 

 

The Pastor, playing the role of the judge, said everything was done as fairly as possible. And I have to agree. I mean, they had a facebook poll and everything. Hundreds of people voted  (or one person voted hundreds of times) on how the Quran should be punished. The poll included burning, shredding, drowning and facing a firing squad.

In my opinion, if they really wanted to scare it, the poll should have looked like this:

Ultimately, the Quran was found guilty by a jury of its peers (the Bible declined to comment and reps for the Talmud couldn’t be reached).

The crazy train has derailed.

 

I wonder what the crowd at an event like the burning of a religious book would be like?

Wow.

What can you do besides shake your head at the insanity?

Well, congratulations Terry Jones. You are the current holder of the Biggest Douchbag Award from Two Girls One Brain!!

Until someone even douchier comes along, of course.

-N.

WE WANT PRENUP, WE WANT PRENUP!

24-year-old Crystal Harris, a Playboy Playmate, is getting her dream wedding! A dress that definitely won’t be white (duh.), a beautiful cake, a big band and waiting for her at the end of the aisle, 84-year-old Hugh Hefner.

Hold the phone.

What in the name of all that is holy does a 24-year-old want to marry an 84-year-old for? Does she think that it’s going to be like the direct tv commercial where the bimbo gets everything? I kinda hope she does.

Don’t get me wrong here, in most situations I do think that age is only a number. I would also like to add that Hugh Hefner isn’t an unattractive older gentleman. I’m just not sure I’d want to consummate a marriage with a man who is more likely than not to kick the bucket before our honeymoon.

Maybe this is just coming from a girl who hasn’t had a succesful relationship yet and doesn’t want to add death to the list of reasons why past flames were extinguished.

Let’s face it. If Hugh Hefner didn’t have more money than God, this chick wouldn’t think twice about the old guy. Shack up, people! Save marriage for the people who actually take it seriously, unless you like the idea of paying a divorce attorney a butt-ton of cash when you discover your irreconcilable differences.

There really isn’t much else to say about this situation so, I’ll leave you with this…

In the words of Kanye West, “now I ain’t sayin’ she a gold digger.” If you don’t know who Kanye is, google the word ‘douchebag.’ You’ll find pictures of him and the cast of Jersey Shore.

 -A.

What Do You Call Cheese That Isn’t Yours?

I spent the better part of the morning (between 11am and 12pm) trying to motivate my mother to do something fun with me. I call it the better part of the morning because it’s the only part of the morning I saw today. She wasn’t biting. After a period of incessant annoyance she informed me that my sister, bro-in-law and niece were coming over to watch basketball in a few hours. I told her we should make dinner and since I really, really needed to get to the store, I’d take her with me. Now, my family isn’t easy to work, but if you know what you’re doing, you can get things to work out in your favor. I wanted nachos for dinner. After throwing out a few ideas and getting shot down, I came up with a plan. I called my sister and asked what they wanted for dinner. She gave me nothing to work with. PERFECT! After getting off the phone, I told my mom that sis asked for nachos. When Mom agreed, I texted sis and told her about how perfectly my plan worked out. My mom was already out in my car and by the time I got there, she was on the phone laughing. That butthead, jerk called my mom and told her my plan.

Rude.

My plan still worked out. We are having nachos for dinner. When Dad found out he said, “we’re having chips for dinner…awesome.” I don’t think he is as thrilled as I am.

In case you’re wondering what I really, really had to go to the store for…

we all have needs!

Now if you will excuse me, I have to visit www.pop-rocks.com for my chance to win COOL PRIZES!

-A.