I Am Fine with OK.

So last night, Rachel was worried about something and I was trying to comfort her by telling her it would be fine.

Then finally after an hour of failed comforting I said, "I don't know what to tell you."

She of course said "I want you to tell me it will be OK."

"But," said I with a laugh, "I've been telling you all night it will be fine."

That is not the same. Not at all. They are apparently unofficial antonyms! So I looked it up and neither are listed as synonyms for each other but they are both synonyms for satisfactory. Also here are their extremely similar definitions, which are identical minus the examples:

 

Merriam-Webster's Dictionary

Fine: being to oneʼs liking <that is fine with me> — see satisfactory 1

OK: being to oneʼs liking <that dinner was OK, but I liked yesterday's better> — see satisfactory 1

 

But apparently there is an inferred uncaring connotation associated with fine, probably created by years of excessive sarcasm from Gen-X and post Gen-Xers akin to their use of whatever. Growing up I had adults angry with me whenever I used whatever to mean I had no strong feelings either way. So to clarify (since it is not in Webster's Dictionary yet):

 

Rachel's Dictionary

Fine = I hate you and nothing you say matters to me.

OK = I love you and care about what you think.

 

"OK, it's fine."

"Wait! Which is it? OK or fine because they do not mean the same thing."

I will just say OK now. I am fine with that.

The Internet Is Cloudy with a Chance of Laziness

So science supposedly solves the mysterious of the world with knowledge and reason while religion is all superstition and magic with its explanation of things and stuff. That’s cool. So why is it that I can’t get a logical reasonable explanation to what the Internet is and where it came from and who is in charge of it?

A few weeks ago, my roommate Fitzy and I were wondering what is this Internet exactly and how does it work? We turned to the scriptures first but it wasn’t in there. Just kidding we actually turned to the Internet of all places. “Explain yourself!” we demanded. A Google search provided diagrams of the Internet. Here are a few for your consideration.

These two were used as part of an explanation of what the Internet was.

What the frig? A cloud, really? That is how you explain it? That is just stupid. They couldn’t take the time to really think this through and explain it in adult language. I feel like I am being patronized. This isn’t nursery school. Sure I am only an English major but I have seen computers, in books mostly. They frighten me a little (I don’t like voodoo).

The following are more examples showing the Internet in its natural beauty.

You will note the source of this enlightening diagram above: it's from the Computer Desktop Encyclopedia.

Laziness. If I weren’t even lazier than them I would be so angry.

Etymology of Boody

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Boody

Noun: a bottom that is not happy right now

Etymology of Blisch

Blisch

Noun: a jerky fish

Etymology of Enciole

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(four parts cayenne pepper, two parts black pepper, two parts garlic powder, one part onion powder, and one part salt)

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Enciole

Noun: a Mexican-Cajun dish with extra spices

(and trips to toilet)

Etymology of Zolypo

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Zolypo

Noun: explosive dog food

Made-up Matchup Round 1

It's time to play everyone's favorite made-up, made-up word challenge game, "Made-up Matchup!"

Match the following words created by the blog comment human tester with their made-up definitions that I thought up to correspond.

 

1. Zolypo

2. Blisch

3. Boody

4. Enciole

 

a. A bottom that is not happy right now

b. A Mexican-Cajun dish with extra spices (and trips to toilet)

c. An explosive dog food

d. A jerky fish

Bird Poop Is for the Birds

So one time when I was a kid, me and my brother Nicky were walking home from 7-Elleven with Slurpees in hand and a bird pooped on my arm. I thought I spilled delicious Slurpee. I was wrong, so very wrong. It was grosser than gross. The other day while eating delicious Arby's, a bird pooped on Rachel's jacket. Thinking it was Arby's I said "Let me get that for you [with my mouth not with a napkin like a normal human being]." Luckily, with a disgusted look on her face, she stopped me before I slurped it up. This story demonstrates that 1) Slurpees, Arby's, and bird poop are very similar in texture and color and 2) I never change, but 3) having a fiancée is nice 'cause she looks out for me.

Photos from Proposal

She looks happy doesn't she? Sucker.

This is the disco ball that I used. I had given her a crumby fake ring as a gag Christmas present in it.

This is the bottle that I had to smash in order to get the sweet goodness into our bellies.

My Life Is Abnormal

I hate websites like FML ([beep] My Life) and MLIA (My Life Is Average). They are so funny and by funny I mean stupid and half of the crap is totally made up. It is as if dirt bags sit around reading fake entries then dirt bag #1 says to dirt bag #2 "Hey, you know what would be funny? We should make up one of these." Yeah so clever. The cycle continues.

Here is what one dirt bag came up with:

Today, I went to dinner at an awesome restaurant called Ninja New York. As I was finishing up using the rest room and about to wash my hands, a ninja popped out of the ceiling and said, "Remember to wash your hands properly," before darting away. MLIA

MLIA? More like FMLIA.

Предложение

So here is the epic tale of my предложение. So first I let my future fiancée trick herself into thinking I would propose in March. Sucker, hahahaha. Then I planned on Valentine’s Day thinking she won’t be suspicious if I took her to a nice dinner and spent mucho money. Then a friend suggested I move the date ahead a week because I am apparently super predictable. So I moved it ahead a week. The night of the предложение I picked my intended to be up from work with flowers and ice cream in hand. I had suggested an impromptu tour of nearby Mormon temples.

Firts we visited the Mt. Timpanogos Temple. It was raining a little but I had an umbrella ready for our stroll. We talked about it and felt it was a little blocky for our taste.

After that we made our way to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple, which is brand new and very pretty. It looks too much like the Lincoln Memorial for me. We had a quick walk around while the gatekeeper man closed up. Luckily, we thought, the Jordan River Temple is really close (just on the other side of South Jordan).

We made our way to the Jordan River Temple, and snuck in through the exit lane. The lights were off and few cars remained in the parking lot. We were not there two minutes before a car pulled beside us to tell us it was closed. The picture below is how I wished it were.

So I pulled into a nearby residential street where we could still see the unlit spire. I pulled out a bottle of Martinelli’s and two plastic wine glasses (classy right?). Then I realized I didn’t have a bottle opener. I tried opening it on the curb. I tried my teeth. I tried a metal thingy next to a tree and it made fizz go everywhere. I finally had to smash the neck and pour the goodness out that way. Then I told Rachie there was something for her in the glove box. “Altoids?” she asked, “Are you trying to tell me something?” I said to keep looking. She found a little giftbox with a cute bow. She opened it and found a ring box inside, which was empty. I laughed and said that I got that box from her brother who was also proposing. She laughed with a slight disappointment. Then I got on one knee with the ring sentimentally inside a disco ball.

I said “Rachel P. Bohman, will you marry me?”
She said yes and started crying.

The End.

The Two Rings or They Went to Jared’s!

Two for the Dark Lords on their dark thrones,

In the land of Zion where the shadows lie.

Two Rings to rule them all, Two Rings to find them,

Two Rings to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them,

In the land of Utah where the shadows lie.

 

So it turns out that the one ring I bought my fiancée is the same exact style as the engagement ring of power that her brother bought for his fiancée. Twiners! Good thing we also proposed on the same day. He went to Jared's. Wait me too!

Spiteful in Spite of It All or Beep Those Beeping Beepers that Stole My Beeper

So I own a bicycle which is a pretty nifty little number considering its old age; it would be a senior citizen in doggy years. Anyway to top it off, it is adorned with a sweet horn, which goes beep, beep, beep. Now my apartment has three men who have girlfriends and one cranky pants who hates women. So since 75% of this apartment's denizens could potentially be kissing or handholding on the couch at any given moment, initially as a joke my roommate Fitzwilliam (Fitzy for short) beeped my horn outside our apartment, as a gentle warning. Haha. Very funny, Fitzy. Somehow it became a regular practice for a couple of us to beep it before entering.

All is well so far. But wait, then the round squishy black thing that you squeeze to make the noise (my roommate seems to think of it as some sort of mini plunger) was gone! Someone has taken it. Some beeper has stolen my beeper! So as forgiving as I usually am, I am choosing to punish the bicycle horn thief by blowing into the horn with my mouth when I come home, which by the way is way louder. Yeah now that is some real old fashioned good American spite. I am hoping he will unscrew the rest of the horn because I am all ready for plan C: buying a whole new horn and carrying it in my pocket so I can blow that sucker every time I come and go. Good thing I come and go a lot. I know I should be more considerate or forgiving but in spite of it all I remain spiteful. At least until I get bored. Or I hear a lesson about it in Sunday school and get called to repentance.

The Difference Is Like Day and Nyq

Nyquil is candy in a bottle. It's yum yum in my tum tum. I can't get enough of that sweet sweet stuff. Me likey. But Dayquil is poison in a bottle. What the crab Dayquil? How is being gross gonna help me get through my day? You suck Dayquil. I hate you so much. Why can't you get with the program! I want my drugs to encourage me to use them like Alice and her random drugs that she finds. "Drink me." A good drug should invite the user to abuse. That's all I am saying. Just a spoonful of sugar is all I am asking for, and some alchy don't hurt either. I wish it were night right now. Mmmmm Nyquil. . .

The Foul Rage and Bone Shoppe

 

This is my haiku that is getting published in Leading Edge sci-fi/fantasy journal. I like using the archaic spelling of shoppe.

 

The Foul Rage and Bone Shoppe

I know a shop where

Witches buy the rage of bulls

And bones of virgins

Bless My Grits

OK. I hate saying "bless you" to people who sneeze. And I hate, I hate, I hate, Peter Pan. . .I mean I hate when people say "bless you" to me when I sneeze. I actually do kind of hate Peter Pan. What a cocky little so and so he is, even though I discovered that I am very loosely related to James Barrie but that is for another blog. This one is about saying "bless you" and why it's dumb.

1) I am rude for not saying it. What the frig!? Now I have to say it when you sneeze or I am a jerk? No thank you, jerk. Don't judge me. It shouldn't be obligatory.

2) If I sneeze and you say "bless you" to me, then I am obligated to say thanks. Thanks for what? Repeating some meaningless response? Do you even think about the words "bless you" when you say them? That's not a rhetorical question. I know you don't.

3) If I don't say thanks then I am a jerk. I don't like throwing the word "thanks" around. You didn't do anything of merit to illicit a thanks but I will still look all jerky if I don't say thanks. That sucks. What did I say about not judging me? Well stop judging me. For reals, not for fakes.

4) Are you saying a prayer with your eyes open all casual? Is that what is happening? Then you are really not talking to me; you're talking to God on my behalf. So I should say amen, not thanks.

5) You might think you are exercising your priesthood and blessing me. I doubt you are doing that. At least with any real authority and reverence.

6) I need lots of blessings but I could use a lot more blessing than just "may God bless you that you don't sneeze."

7) Coughs and headaches are in greater need of a blessing than a little ol' sneeze yet when I get all achy and sick not one bless you. Heck, mumps, bumps, slumps, rumps, and grumps all need blessing more than a little ah-he-a-chew.

8) This is antiquated superstition. But it's tradition! Tradition is not a substitute for reason.

9) Bless my grits! Why not combine two meaningless idioms?

10) May God bless you. For reals.

The Greedy Pigeon and the Thrifty Swallow

By Sir Elder Reddoch


There was once a beautiful grove of trees where a large community of birds lived. It was autumn and all the birds of the forest gathered together all their food and seeds for a big feast and festival. But two birds were absent from the festivities. They were the Greedy Pigeon and the Thrifty Swallow. When asked why they were not participating, the Greedy Pigeon replied angrily, "I have not spent so much time collecting and saving seeds just to give it all away!"

The Thrifty Swallow answered when asked, "Oh I'm saving my seeds for a raining day, just in case."

All the other birds of the grove had a wonderful time at the autumn festival. Afterward, little seed was left. They had eaten until they were full then ate some more. Months past, then came winter. The birds of the forest soon found that their food supply was all but diminished. They hadn't enough food to last until spring. They didn't know what to do. Until Blue Jay the wise old bird remembered their conversation with Thrifty Swallow and Greedy Pigeon. So Blue Jay and many other birds quickly flew over to Thrifty Swallow's nest. Thrifty Swallow invited them into his home and asked them what the matter was.

They told him they were on the brink of starvation. So Thrifty Swallow took a swallow's portion of seed and put it away in his cupboard. Then he told his guests to divide the rest amongst themselves. They cried "oh our savior!" and left filled and grateful.

Soon word spread abroad of the great deed of Thrifty Swallow. So another starving group of birds from the forest came to Thrifty Swallow's home. He told them he was sorry but his food supply was all gone, but that they should go visit Greedy Pigeon because he had much to spare. So this group flew to Greedy Pigeons house and pleaded for him to give of his abundance. But he refused even though he had more than he could ever eat in a lifetime. He told them to leave his home. He didn't care if they starved to death.

So the starving birds pulled everyone of Greedy Pigeons feathers out. Then peaked out his eyes and yanked apart his flesh. They separated each one of his bones and devoured him completely. Because Greedy Pigeon was so plump, he was able to feed all the birds in the grove that day and they didn't even need to touch his food supply until spring came. Then they held a magnificent banquet in Thrifty Swallow's honor because he saved them all.

And thus we see that for those who have faith and trust in the Lord everything will work out. We can liken this story unto ourselves. Each of us has to gain a large testimony so that when things get difficult we can support others with our abundance of testimony.

The Legend of Brown Fudger

So this is how I 1) came to hate fudge and 2) became fat.

A long time ago in a county far, far away (and orange), was a small brown child of a skinny stature. And he loved himself some fudge. But he was poor in finances. Then for a school fundraiser his school was selling chocolate food stuffs for Easter. He gave the order form to his mother dearest who took it to work and sold some to her coworkers. His mother did not buy any because they were too overpriced for mere egg shaped fudge. Then when the foodstuffs arrived at the small brown boy's school, he was given the order to be delivered. On the long walk home he, noticed that the lid to the egg shaped fudge came off and could be put back on with the greatest of ease. So he closed the lid but then hunger pains struck. Would he make it home?

 

He soon gave in to temptation and took a small smackerel of fudge with his finger then smoothed out the surface as if it was not touched. Then he walked on and temptation struck again. He put forth his finger again and resmoothed so the missing amount would not be noticed. They yet again he reached forth. And again. Then he realized the missing amount would be noticeable so he devoured the rest of the fudge. He had a tummy ache from the colossal mound of fudge in his brown belly. His mother noticed the missing fudge from the order and had the brownie tell his teacher that the greedy chocolatiers had forgotten one of the items, which they amended without suspicion. The perfect crime?

 

The brown child was sick in his stomach from the large amount of fudge for a day, but the real punishment came as he lost all satisfaction to food. His desire for yummy yum goodies was unquenchable. He would be cursed with an undying sweet tooth forever. And that is how the small brown boy became a large brown man. Then one day he learned to like fudge again in small doses.

Stupid Noises

I violently hate when I turn on my computer that it has to make a bunch of noise BEFORE I can turn on the mute button. So everyone at works looks at me like am super annoyance. Hate it. Also I hate that my GD (gosh darn?) phone is super noisy when it turns off. SO if I am halfway through a movie in the theater and want to shut that puppy off so as to not annoy anyone, it goes "da do da da" really really loudly. Suck.

Feeling Just a 'lil Bloggy

Rachel, my fella, who is a girl BTW, was like "Hey guy, make a blog so I can read it." And of course I was like "but sweetums, I hate blogs. Except yours of course. Yours is like scripture [except I read hers]." Anyway so this one is for you schnookie poo.