My (Long Interruption Here Blah Blah Blah) “Style”

I (who am I? What am I?) have (I have it even though I am sharing it with the world? How deep) a (or really one of a great many boring styles to choose from) style (more like lack of style) that (and not which because I paid a lot of money to know when to use that and when to use which) seems (and by seems I mean for sure is) kinda (also known as completely) convoluted (I originally had the word retarded here but I thought it might be offensive even though there is no such thing as retarded people anymore: only special people; so why make a big fuss? Plus I really think convoluted really captures what it is I am going for here like if it isn't obvious already that I am making fun of my own ridiculous style of pausing in the middle of my own sentences to go on and on all convolutedly) when (does anybody really know what time it is? Does anyone really care?) I (seriously who am I?) write (writing to me implies using paper but I guess it works or I could have said type but it sounds less poetic) my (as if I can really call anything mine anymore. Now that I am married it should be ours right Rachel?) little (or big since it is growing into maturity) Feeling a Lil' Bloggy (feeling a lil' [lot]nauseous) blog (bring lots of guffaws) posts (random weird annoyances is more like it. Seriously these things go on and on about all this gibberish and I call this a style? I bet people hate how I can't write a simple sentence like "I have a style that seems kinda convoluted when I write my little Feeling a Lil' Bloggy blog posts" without some big long sidetrack about this and that [now I am sounding like that fat little fish from "The Little Mermaid" {"this is this and that is that}]).

Crossword to ya’ Motha

You thought sweet regurgitation was a difficult puzzle? This crossword puzzle is legit. Too legit in fact to quit. Hey hey! This may or may not be extremely difficult. It might be super easy. Here is the clue that makes it solvable:

Every single solution comes from one of my February or March blog posts.

If it is not the lamest crossword ever conceived, then I might do an April one. Good luck!

Across
3 ACROSS: BAD LUCK _____
6 ACROSS: Gimme back that kiss!
7 ACROSS: Brought to you by prison
9 ACROSS: Bone ____
11 ACROSS: Legendary figure
14 ACROSS: Opposites
16 ACROSS: Treasure chest + Mad Eye Moody =______
17 ACROSS: Cloudy with a chance of
18 ACROSS: Not FINE!
19 ACROSS: Bless these
20 ACROSS: Keep those dimes bird

Down
1 DOWN: Starring Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds (sorta)
2 DOWN: Jonathan is not very good at being this
4 DOWN: 2015
5 DOWN: For the birds
8 DOWN: Where "they" went
10 DOWN: SUCKER! (Hint: see 1 down)
12 DOWN: OK does not equal _____
13 DOWN: A jerky fish
15 DOWN: This is dumb

Blogger Brawl? Blogger Bah

I have had a couple different friends request on Facespace that I support their friends by voting for their boring long obnoxious garbage in Blogger Brawl (on Mormon Times of course, which I know as the place where 20-something Mormons fight for laughs and tears through quips about their dating life and the effects of the Restoration that is just so down to earth and original!). That's cool. But shouldn't they win on their own merit? It shouldn't be an advertising/popularity contest. That is how politics works, and Blogger Brawl seems much too high brow for that sort of thing. I went ahead and voted for the two friends of friends but only because I kind of thought the friends of friend's blogs were unmeasurably less obnoxious and boring.

I thought to myself, if I focused my blogginess toward an audience that didn't consist primarily of Rachel and the other few people who peruse this thing, then maybe I could compete in this brawl as it were. I could methodically yank at the heart strings with manipulative anecdotes and probably regale some witty-ish yarns. Maybe. Typically my jokes are no good but people seem to laugh at me all the time when I am not trying to be funny.

However, it is pretty hard to write a blog that would be even semi-interesting to someone I don't know. Also, I don't like the idea of writing a "Mormon" blog anyway. Why can't I just write a blog and be a Mormon? Does everything Mormons read have to be Mormon something? We have Mormon this and Mormon that. For those of you non-Mormons reading this, don't get the wrong idea: Mormonism is the best thing ever and you should immerse yourself in Mormon culture right now [sarcasm unintentional but possibly unavoidable]. Seriously the Book of Mormon is the best thing ever. Go read that right now.

I am not really what you would call the competitive type. I also like writing the kind of amateur stuff that only my few friends would enjoy anyway, and only because they know me and my crazy (please read the word with excessive emphasize) antics. Also I wouldn't be able to lose my cynicism and dark sarcasm and maintain my own style. I am too attached to it for some reason. My real "humor" is too subtle for even my wife to get. We're still on our sweet regurgitation lunar phase but she is starting to realize, as even my family continually fails to see, I am never really that serious; I only pretend to be. OK sometimes I am but it can be hard to distinguish. Same diff. What does that even mean? Same difference? It's gibberish!

Still clandestinely (blogs are clandestine if no one reads them ya?) I really want someone to say "Jonathan [even though people don't usually call me Jonathan outside the Bohmen circle], you should compete on Blogger Brawl!" To which I will thoughtfully and humbly reply, "Blogger Brawl? Blogger bah."

Soylent Green Is Good People!

I asked Rachel if I could put a copy of Goya's "Saturn Devouring His Son" up in our dining room, and can you believe she said no?

As this post will prove, there is something severely wrong with me. But I just don't know what so maybe you can help me figure out what.

The other day I was listening to the radio program "All Things Liberal Considered" on National Progressive Radio (NPR). Robert Livingston Siegel (Seagull) was reporting on the terrifying feeling he gets when he drives through Donner Pass. Good reporting Bobby. But he then he said that there was new DNA evidence that showed the Donner Party had eaten cows and other things but not each other. "Phew!" He actually said phew, as if a great big ol' burden had been lifted off him. Well I have a few questions for him.

1) Why do you even care?

2) How does this affect you or the dead in any way at all?

3) What difference does it make if they did or did not eat the dead members of their party?

4) Can people get mad people disease from eating each other [yes this is a real question]?

. . .

47) What do humans taste like?

48) Is it wrong that I am curious?

49) Is there a difference between ethnicities in taste?

50) Is it wrong that I would have like no qualms eating a human? Correction: how deranged does that make me?

Hannibal Lecture didn't seem too unreasonable to me. He doesn't scare me because he typical only eats rude people, bad musicians, evil men, and cops who get in his way. I am none of those things aside from the musician thing and only slightly evil but I don't play where he can hear so he won't care. That doesn't seem so bad. It is super wrong to murder, granted. However, he is less wasteful than any other serial killer out there except for Buffalo Bob who made clothes out of his victims. Now that is some recycling! If Hannibal and Bob got together, they could really make use of a corpse. The Native Americans of old had nothing on these too.

I just think it is currently unnecessary here in the well-fed (over-fed) America but down south, they could sure use a little cannibalism right about now. I wouldn't care if someone ate my dead body, especially if they were really hungie. I am dead, not gonna need it anyway for a while. Maybe there is a good scientific reason not to eat people. The only good reason is possible mad human disease which I just made up.

The Martians don't have this silly taboo and look how good things turned out for them. "A different example of cannibal culture in literature is found in the science fiction novel Stranger in a Strange Land (1981) by Robert A. Heinlein, where some human culture is transformed as a result of the Martians practice of eating one's dead friends as an act of great respect."

On another note, if you have never seen the film Solyent Green then you should watch it right now. Stop reading this blog post and watch it right now this second. In it Charlton Heston is a detective who discovers that Soylent Green is people! But the people are rioting from hunger so I think they should keep selling it. Is that so wrong? Am I the only person who has ever seen the ending to Soylent Green and thought, soylent green is people? So what? That seems like a great way to recycle.

Life Is About Socialism

So Rachel and I watched the show "Life" on Discovery Channel on Sundays, mostly because my roommate turns it on but we like it anyway. So Oprah is the narrator for the show. Her commentary is quite illuminating on the subject of life. Each episode focuses on a particular group. One was about birds, one about reptiles, one about plants, etc. The most recent one was about primates. She made several comments about how similar we all are (primates that is). She commentatored on the primates that bathe in the hot springs in the snowy mountains of Japan for warmth. They only allow some to enter—even though there is plenty of the hot water to go around—because they formed their own class system. It was sad to see the poor underclass monkeys or whatever get left out by the "bouncer" of the social elites. We are pretty similar I suppose. Obama should help those monkeys get access to cesstub care. On an interesting side note, Oprah also thinks plants tend to be very humanlike. Apparently everything is like a human. Maybe we should do something about that.

What If Rachel and I Were Robots?

Ever wonder what it would be like if you were a robot? If you are thinking, yes! Every 3.5 seconds then you need to get a life, loser. But if you are like me then you thought about it a few times. OK I am a loser who thinks about it every 3.4 seconds. Don't tell anyone but sometimes I make robot sounds. Shhh, it's a secret between us, ‘K.

Anyway, here are the designs I drafted for the prototypes of Rachel and I.

Rachel 1.5
This is pretty much what Rachel would look like if she were a robot. Notice the purple drapery, the chemical engineering paraphernalia, the huge oversized backpack, and those long luscious robolimbs? Although there is one improvement present: she isn't tripping over herself because I took the liberty of widening her stance for improved balance (standard Johnny Number 5 treds). It would be a shame if she accidently poured that sulfuric acid prematurely. She would
probably dump it all over her new roboskirt.
JonnyUltra 2000
So this is [exactly] what I would look like as a robot. I am a little worried about how destructive I am in this picture. Maybe I should see a shrink. I am a little large (get it shrink because of my size?). But I have a soft side: notice how I didn't disturb the tiny Presbyterian chapel. Yeah, I am better than the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Or maybe just smarter not to incite the wrath of the Ghostbusters by stepping on a church. But then again, I am a robot, not a ghost. They couldn’t stop me! Let the church stomping resume.

Beer Bongs, Stripping, “Sweet Regurgitation,” and Apples to Apples

What do beer bongs, stripping, excessive consumptions of "drinks," vomiting, and Apples to Apples have in common? They were the highlights of my bachelor's party the other night. If you are reading this then you know I am married (because this is autoposting after my wedding). Otherwise Rachel decided not to go through with it last minute and I hate life right now and should be on suicide watch. If that is the case and you need me, then you can find me atop the SWKT (Spencer W. Kimball Tower for non-BYUers pronounced swi-kit). Suicide "jokes" aside, I am sure the sucker went through with it and we are happily married.

OK before yesterday night I would not have agreed that vomit is "sweet regurgitation." And I was not being ironic either. But after drinking a whole Gatorade out of beer bong until I threw up, I would have to agree sure, it works for Thursday's blog crossword about Sweet Drippy Natural Luna. So if you thought vomit was the right answer for 1 across then good for you, you win on technicality. Still maybe try and find the more logical correct answer that is also relevant to the reason behind the crossword in question (hint-hint).

BTW I stripped when I drank the Gatorade Bong so I wouldn't stain my shirt. Pants stayed on. It didn't get that crazy. Maybe if you could cram a few more sugary drinks in me, maybe. Also we mostly ate loads of yummy, yummy food and played Apples to Apples in true Mormon fashion.

Fake Facebook Statuses that Might Be Funny Because they Are Fake

Here are some fake Facebook statuses that I just made up that you may or may not think are funny because they are fake but would not laugh at if they were real. Or actually they might be funny if they were real but since they aren't real, they aren't funny. Whatevs. I was just killing a few minutes while I ate my leftover enchiladas Enciolé!

Tom Tom had almost no blood in his stool today!

Maria Lopezo thinks her brother is a BILF.

Can I get a DUI if the I is stupidity?

Is it still manslaughter if it was a kid?

My GF is preggers again. X-ing my fingers. Hope it's not mine.

Sweet Natural Drippy Luna

I am going on my honeymoon in a couple days! Assuming Rachel still wants to marry me. I can't predict the future but I hope she goes through with it. Cross your fingers for me, will ya. Anyway, your biggest concern is not having any fresh blog posts to read while I am away right? Never fear gallant blog post reader. I have been writing extra blog posts all week in anticipation for the forthcoming nuptial getaway and will have them set to autopost while I am away so you and Rachel can read them at your leisure. Here is a challenging crossword challenge.

Fried the Piper

There was once a humble county called Hilllock. It was made up of poorer or richer men and women making a living in various ways and means. Some made more than others. There was a farmer named Braff. He did fairly well for himself. He made about 5 shillings a fortnight selling his carrots in the market. There was a shepherd named Rilf. He did very well. He made about 12 shillings a month when he brought his wool into market. There was a captain named Gatty who was hired by the people of Hillock County to keep a safe watch over the county. He was handsomely paid 4 shillings a week to keep watch on the county. There was also a old bard named Binbo. He was poor. He only made about one or two shillings every time he sang a story or two, which was rare.

Then Binbo told a new story to Braff, who loved it and paid him two more times to hear it. Braff told his friends Rowbi and Dalbit about the beautiful melody. Soon word spread and everyone in the county paid to hear it too. They listened to it over supper and before bed. They listened to it in big groups and in small circles around the campfire.

One day the captain heard it and didn't like it. He banned it. The people cried "No!" Because the captain worked for them, he then repelled the law against it. He couldn't say no to them.

One day a man named Fried came into town from parts unknown. He had quite a bit of money and nothing to show for it. He called himself a piper but had no pipes. He called the county together and said they needed to incorporate. "It would cost money," said Rilf the shepherd. "How much?" asked Braff the farmer. "Only a small amount from everyone," promised Fried the piper.

The town was incorporated. They needed a mayor. Everyone knew there should be an election. Fried used his own money and the money of his new followers to throw a banquet. He paid the Bard to come play for the attendees. Everyone liked the banquet. Everyone voted for Fried.

Fried soon proposed the town build a city hall. Towns needed city halls. A tax was levied. "A small bit from everyone should suffice." That seemed fair. Fried called for a jail. Towns needed jails. He called for a mayoral mansion. Towns had mayoral mansions. He called for roads. Towns needed roads.

Soon everyone was out of money. Everyone except for the Bard. The Bard had paid an equal percentage just as everyone else, but was still better off than the others.

"The destitute state of the town must have been his fault," cried Fried. "We should tax the Bard a greater percentage because he has taken advantage of all of you!"

They took the Bard's money purse and counted its contents. Then they raised the tax equal to the amount in the bag minus 6 shillings, enough to live off of. "Greed," cried Fried, "is the injustice of our county."

Fried continued to tax the greed out of the Bard, until he only worked for what he needed. Once he finally agreed to play only two songs a week, the tax was lowered. Equality and justice was established.

Wish Me a Good Luck Potluck

With prior bad luck and continued bad luck with potlucks, I am worried about the potluck for Stance: For the Family tonight. I am sorta helping plan it I guess. Here is a short list of things that may and probably will occur at some point during some potluck somewhere to me. Wish me good luck for this potluck!

1) I could show up two hours late. I've been too early before.

2) I could forget to bring my dish. Almost done that like a dozen times. Only a matter of time before I do forget.

3) It could have been canceled and I not know about it. I fail to check these things sometimes.

4) No one else is "able" to come.

5) I could go to the wrong building.

6) I spill my food item all over myself before I arrive.

7) I could soil myself from the anxiety of needlessly worrying about [oops too late!]

Here’s Looking at You (Creepily)

Alternate titles: "Feeling a Lot Bloggy" or "I See You: Stalking My Blog Stalkers"

So in one of my previous blog posts I mentioned that more people would read some jerk's t-shirt than my blog. As painful as that truth was (not very: only 1 tear shed), it revealed something a little surprising. I have more than the expected five blog readers. I have about five regulars who comment quite regularly and a few irregulars who comment quite irregularly—also a few irregular regulars who irregularly comment regularly (try saying that 50 times real fast). These are basically family/psudofamily/pretty much family/soon-to-be-family-in-4-days types. But I had several people comment in person (people still communicate this way?) that they read this or that blog about this random dumb occurrence or the other. So I wondered how many people read this boring long obnoxious garbage? I originally only started writing this because Rachel wanted me to. I was feeling just a 'lil bloggy at the time. But I guess other people also don't totally hate it. That's nice.

So Rachel found a way for me to stalk my blog stalkers. So now I know yesterday I had 26 visits—half from me probably (I am such a smart charming handsome narcissist, can you blame me?)—from four Southwestern states, mostly Utah. Those crazy Mormons love me. I had 19 unique visitors. Do I even know 19 people? I guess I am feeling a lot bloggy, since I have been posting these things daily now. So thanks I guess if you are reading this. I am not sure exactly what I am thanking you for but here's looking at you, kids. That isn't a creepy thing to say at all.

This One Takes Me Back

How Rachel and I became a couple presented by Facebook. Good thing we have this modern website to record our lives for us.

You Should Listen to Big Jonathan

So the Big Anti-Tobacco advertisers want you to believe you are targeted for termination by Big Tobacco, an imaginary conspiracy of fat old white men (probably Republicans) huddled together in smoke filled rooms discussing how they can get fetuses to take up smoking with cool cartoon tigers shouting crafty slogans such as "These cigs are seexxxxxxy." Big Anti-Tobacco sees you as a target for their anti-smoking campaign. They see you and think, "hey impressionable young people; we can make them hate the things we hate." Big Anti-Tobacco wants to target you for smoking-termination of cigarettes or pre-termination before you "choose" to start smoking. Their endless propaganda campaign involves dramatic stunts like fake body bags, cuddly smoking mascots, and lots and lots of fallacy.

Big Anti-Tobacco thinks you're too stupid to figure out on your own that you shouldn't smoke. You probably make all your important life decisions based on the strong rhetoric of Big This or Big That. Big Anti-Tobacco thinks it is wrong to try and sway your opinion through large expensive media campaigns aimed at young people. Big Anti-Tobacco would never do that sort of thing. . .

Big Anti-Tobacco wants you to think Big Tobacco is evilly watching you through a giant golden telescope (paid for with the deaths of unborn babies somehow) while they bide their time before hatching complicated schemes. Imagine the Legion of Doom dressed in business suits. "Big Tobacco is targeting you." Doing market research is evil now? Not like every other company ever would do such a thing? Not like Taco Hell or Schmucker's Jelly or Walmarx. Not like Big Anti-Tobacco? I don't know who thinks you're more the dupe, Big Tobacco or Big Anti-Tobacco. You should listen to Big Jonathan.

Fighting the Inhumane Society with a Little Flair

Last of the Anti-Humane Society of Utah Tees

Boo Humane Society of Utah

Start (Un)Wanted Pregnancies

Let Me Smear That For Ya

Here is my new shirt line as part of my smear campaign against the Humane Society of Utah and subsequently Bob Barker.

More to follow.

Wedding Announcement

This is one of like literally 30 versions we made.

76 “Titles” of the First Half of the D&C

This fun mnemonic devise was what I used to memorize the 76 "titles" for the first half of the Doctrine and Covenants for my final. Please enjoy my frequent (continuous) use of blasphemy and false doctrine.

LP Eli lost qualifications for service. Witnesses witness the parchment of John. Formula 1 league formed. Lost revelation!? JK. Join AA. David, John, and Peter are three wits worthy. Atone for your art cove. When the prophet speaks about baptism it is specifically to leaders. Persecution of 25 women is common. Try the Peking; P is only for 2nd obedience of new missionaries in lame mission in the 11th hour during the 2nd 2nd coming. The JST counsels and blesses Ed Partridge to gather to Ohio.

JC IMs "The Gospel cares" during Intro to Law 101. LOL! The 43rd 2nd coming blesses conference but the 45th 2nd coming gives the spirit. JW records Ohio shaking for Quakers with 50 false spirits locked in pattern: forsake and endure consecration, church schools, and curriculum. The rich and the poor are the center for Zion, Zion, Jackson County. The Sabbath day talents include satanic testimonies. Zion forgives destiny and purpose of church. 666 requires a covenant relationship. Language of revelation on scripture is in the Book of Commandments. 70 stewards clarify instructions to bishops about effective use of time. Married couples should go on missions before they lose their vision.

1. The Lord's Preface
   
2. Elijah the Prophet
   
3. The Lost Manuscript
   
4. The Qualifications for Service
   
5. Witnesses
   
6. Witness for Peace
   
7. The Parchment of John
   
8. The formula for Revelation
   
9. The formula for Revelation
   
10. Lost manuscript: Reality of Satan
    
11. Revelation
    
12. Mission Call of Joseph Knight Sr.
    
13. Aaronic Priesthood Keys
    
14. Mission Call of David Whitmer
    
15. Mission Call of John Whitmer
    
16. Mission Call of Peter Whitmer
    
17. Three Witnesses
    
18. The Worth of Souls
    
19. The Atonement
    
20. Articles and Covenants
    
21. When the Prophet Speaks
    
22. Baptism
    
23. Counsel Specific to Leaders
    
24. Persecution
    
25. Women
    
26. Common Consent
    
27. Priesthood Keys
    
28. Revelation to Prophet Only
    
29. Second Coming
    
30. Obedience
    
31. Counsel to New Missionaries
    
32. Lamanite Mission
    
33. 11th Hour
    
34. Second Coming
    
35. The Joseph Smith Translation
    
36. Counsel and Blessing of Edward Partridge
    
37. Gather to Ohio
    
38. Christ, the Great I Am
    
39. The Definition and Purpose of the Gospel
    
40. Cares of the World
    
41. Introduction to the Law
    
42. Law of the Lord
    
43. Second Coming
    
44. Blessings of Conference
    
45. Second Coming
    
46. Gifts of the Spirit
    
47. John Whitmer, Historian
    
48. Ohio
    
49. Shaking Quakers
    
50. False Spirits
    
51. Law of Consecration
    
52. Pattern in All Things
    
53. Forsake the World and Endure
    
54. Consecration
    
55. Church Schools and Curriculum
    
56. The Rich and the Poor
    
57. A Center Place for Zion
    
58. Zion: Jackson County
    
59. The Sabbath
    
60. Talents
    
61. Satan
    
62. Testimonies
    
63. Zion and Her People
    
64. Forgiveness
    
65. Destiny and Purpose of the Church
    
66. Covenant Relationship with Savior
    
67. Language of Revelation
    
68. Scripture
    
69. Book of Commandments
    
70. Stewardship
    
71. Mission of Clarification
    
72. Instruction to Bishops
    
73. Effective Use of Time
    
74. Marriage within the Church
    
75. Duties of Missionaries
    
76. The Vision
    

Continued Bad Luck with Potlucks

I was so worried about forgetting to bring rolls I had signed up to bring to my work potluck, I bought them three days ago and left them in the back seat. Got the rolls? Check.

I also signed up to bring cheese because they needed more cheese and I had a Costco-sized thingy of delicious munster. I was soooo worried I would forget the cheese (can't leave that in the car. . .or can I?) that I worried about it all night until I left a note for myself on my computer "Don't forget the cheese!" Even after seeing the note and still almost forgetting it on the kitchen counter, my super cheese-forgetting anxiety subsided as I had it in hand as I walked out the door. Got the cheese? Check.

Made it to work very early. I am also super anxiety ridden if I have to walk into a potluck late, even though my schedule starts half an hour into it. Incidentally, I also hate being early to potlucks. On time? Check.

Last time I went to the wrong potluck. Wasn't gonna happen this time. No sir-ee. Checked calendar for location? Check.

It was not there. Say wha? Was it cancelled? Oh beep, it's tomorrow. Just because the last few were on Thursday, doesn't mean this one is. So now I can have rolls and cheese for lunch like a dirty Frenchman (is it redundant to say dirty Frenchman?). Or I can walk to Arctic Circle (gross). If this was My Life is Average, a ninja would show up and offer me pie without a fork. Maybe next time I will go to the wrong building.

Lawyers Can “Solve” All Your “Problems”

I love these tax lawyer commercials.

"Haven't paid taxes in years?"

"Owe the IRS money?"

"The IRS relentlessly pursues their money! Call us."

What. The. Beep. I can't believe the IRS is trying so hard to get their money. What a bunch of criminals. It's almost as bad as these commercial for the credit card harassers. Credit card companies want the money they lent me? Well screw them. I am only gonna give them a little bit while I enjoy the things I bought with their money. It's their own fault for foolishly giving me their money. Time to file for chapter 11.

Why the h-e-double sippy straws would you need a lawyer for your tax problems? If you didn't pay your taxes in years, there is one solution: pay your d-word taxes, dummy. (d stands for dumb). I have no idea what a lawyer would do for your criminal self. You should pay your taxes. Period. If I have to pay that junk then so should everyone else.

"Don't be a victim of the IRS"

Um, yeah everyone is a victim of the IRS (unless you like paying taxes). Thems the breaks, sucker. If you don't like paying the Man, try not making any money and see how that works out for you. I hope these lawyers aren't able to actually do anything for these morons not paying their taxes. Another idea: go to jail and then you won't ever have to pay taxes; you will be getting paid from the government. That would stick it to the Man.

Tax lawyers are the worst of the worst. Roni Deutch is the real criminal. Not really though. There is no law against evil intentions.

Bob "the kitten killer" Barker

Who Wants to Be Right?

The Price Is Wrong

Bob Barker spent years ending The Price Is Right by asking people to spay or neuter their pets. He must have influenced millions in this way. I know I am just one man but my goal is to undermine Barker's efforts. You see Disneyland was giving away 1 million free tickets in their Give a Day, Get a Day program. You "give" a "day" and get a free day at Disneyland. So by give it means volunteering and by a day it means as little time and effort as I can sign up for.

What does Disneyland have to do with Bob Barker you ask impatiently? Calm down and I will tell you. Anyhoo Rachel and I signed up to deliver fliers for the Humane Society of Utah. The fliers urged Utahns to spay and neuter their cats and dogs. So Disney's website promised us that The Inhumane Society of Utah would contact us within 5 days to set up a time to pick up our fliers. They NEVER contacted us.

Then before we got around to signing up for something else, Disney reached its goal. Upon revisiting the Give a Day, Get a Day page, Disney apologized for running out but urged us to volunteer anyway. Oh I'll volunteer my time, talents, and efforts all right. I vow to volunteer my time fighting spaying and neutering by any means necessary. The price is wrong Bob. The price you will pay for betrayal, that is.

Here are the bumper sticker slogans I came up with to promote rampant kitten and puppy making by unwed animals:

Cesstub

So I have been living at the Omni apartments for nearly two years now. When I first moved in, the hot tub was frequently in and out of service. I think people were acquiring hepatitis A-F from it and the apartment "management" (yes those are scare quotes) had to scrub that thing clean every other Tuesday to remove its pandemic grossness. It is basically a cesspool hot tub, a cesstub.

I don't see what the big deal is with hot tubs. The young and restless Provo population is really into the sort of thing. Twelve shirtless dudes crowding into a tiny steamy hole around one semi clad semi attractive girl. I am not much for scalding water with the skin flakes of 30 strangers floating in it or shirtless dudes. Plus when I was single, I was never that competitive. That is a lot of shirtless dudes to compete with for the attention of one semi clad girl. Without a shirt my chances drop dramatically as demonstrated by the math equation below. Not that any of this matters because I have Rachel now who doesn't know any better. Sucker.

My chances in a hot tub = (my normal charisma/(number of good looking shirtless dudes – other fat shirtless dudes)) x number of semi attractive semi clad girls

I guess the appeal to Mormons is the guilt free semi-cladness. Or maybe Provo dudes like other dudes without shirts. Probably it is that they think they get to see a plethora of semi clad women. Every dude thinks this and that's why the hot tub becomes a German brat festival.

So in year number two of Omni life, the hot tub went kaput. I think the years of vile disease finally killed tubby. Whatevs. I only care because now I get to use this as leverage against the apartment "managers" for their sucky service to counter the ridiculous fees they plan to stick on me, e.g., moving out fee, breathing fee, living fee, ceiling fee, soul fee. If they give me any poop when I move out in two weeks, I'll kindly remind them that the hot tub has been broken nearly two years while I held my breath for it to be repaired. Anyhoo, I guess it is finally fixed with less than two weeks before my move out date. I really wanted to catch hepatitis z but now I will never get the chance. I will miss the empty cesstub.

What the Blog?

So in my work meeting today we came up with a new acronym for the word blog.

 

Boring

Long

Obnoxious

Garbage

 

I contributed the boring and long parts.

 

Then I came up with another one while everyone else was being super productive.

Barren

Life

Of

Gloom/grief/grievances

 

I hope you enjoyed reading my boorish lame overdramatic gibberish.

More People Will Read Some Jerk’s Shirt than My Blog

So if you are reading this then you are one of few who will read this blog. No biggie because I am really only writing a blog because Rachel P. Bohman (soon to be Rachel J. Reddoch) likes to read it and asked me to write one. Hi Rachel! Maybe it would be easier to just write a comment on your Facebook wall or send a text message. At least I won't be judged by my lack of readership. I thought I saw a shirt but I think someone just told me about it (which is good because it helps my cause). Anyway the shirt says "More people have read this shirt than your blog." Ouch. So true though. Nobody reads this thing. I hear crickets chirping even now as I write.

I spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the implications of this stupid shirt, mocking me and my "creative" writing. I hate you shirt! he cries into the night. The truth is hard to accept, probably because it sucks. So here I am writing for an audience of approximately -11. The worst part of this whole thing: I am posting a picture of the shirt on my blog. So no matter how many people read this blog, the shirt will always be right. The only way it could ever possibly even out is if every person that read the shirt finds my blog somehow and reads it. Do I even want that? Fame aside, not really. So why am I so partially bottom hurt by all this? Beats me.

My only hope resides in a simple truth. More people have read Twilight then something else really amazing. Don't ask me what; I am bad with statistics (e.g., 112% of my blog is gibberish). That doesn't make Twilight better, just people more—how you say (trying to put this delicately because most of my audience has read that poop smeared on paper)—dumb. Yeah that's the word. No not dumb, but something where they value something awful that they know is awful more than something I would call literature. My point is that quantity doesn't equate quality. However, with an audience like -11, I can't say I really have either. After all more people will read some illiterate jerk's stupid t-shirt than my well crafted (really actually dull and pointless) blogginess. Rachel, I hope you enjoyed reading this more than some jerk's stupid t-shirt. Incidentally, besides hating it, I like the shirt. I wish I were as smart and clever as it.