not today, satan. not today.

the reverse camera was on and I didn't know, this was not even a POSED reverse reaction #sundaynapface

(you know those are a thing now, right? Oy)

Have you ever gotten set up on a blind date

And then all you have to go on is this person's name

So the name is stuck in your cranium for a little while

And then,

Have you ever dreamt about this person??

Or maybe dreamt that you owned a HOT DOG STAND NAMED AFTER THEM?!?

A HOT DOG STAND.

That happened.

I am currently on the verge of tears because the.girl.who.bought.my.contract.backed.out.at.the.last.second.i.am.cry.

But really, it's gonna be okay. IT IS. IT IS. I might not believe that right now but if I keep saying it screaming it into my pillow, it will become truth.

Provo, you dirty pirate. I have said "GOOSE FEATHERS!" in all caps more times than I care to count in the past week. And I mean in text. Like I would say "GOOSE FEATHERS" out loud! Psh. But really, Provo. PROVOOOOOOO. Moving here was a fluke. Then it was horrible, then it was awesome, then it was kind of like "Wait, what? I do like Provo?" Then it was like "Oh, I guess it's time to move now...right when I'm starting to like it here."

Duh. Life. Life deals hard and fast and it's just...hard to keep up sometimes. Which is why I was eating that chocolate-covered macaroon at 9:30 in the morning.

Not today, Satan.

Not today.

I left my OJ on the train so you could say my crying-drought is over now

Guys. GUYs. I'm moving. I have decided to let myself feel all the emotions instead of pushing them away. Which means I'm a mess. Also shouldn't be staring at this screen & typing because I've got a volcano for a head right now. Migraines are like the Guy Fieris of bodily functions. WAT DID I JUST SAY.

Well, it made sense, didn't it. (?)

Visual aid

I observed lots of things whilst I was on the train this weekend (but apparently not my orange juice, being left behind...waahhh)

• "That lady looks like she poached Gandalf and now she's wearing him." Well.

• A hispanic kid got locked in the bathroom for like 10 hours and was banging on the door 5EVER. When his parents finally came to let him out they were laughing hysterically. ??????????? Or should I say ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿
• I got a great amount of satisfaction from watching people in traffic/getting pulled over from the train window. Why don't we all take the train..???
• I've just realized that I only use one question mark or a thousand, there is no in between for me. 

So, back to the real point of this post. I'm moving (again). Seems like it wasn't that long ago that I moved to this strange city, and I was really nervous, mostly because I didn't have any "people." I was pretty lonely for a little while. But then certain people barged into my life without knocking, which was the best possible thing they could have done for me. They opened my eyes to all different kinds of love--giving you a ride when your car breaks down kind of love. Listening to you ramble on about your limited knowledge of politics love. Hanging out with you while you do laundry and eat pie kind of love. Going on bike rides with you in the middle of the night kind of love. Coming over to your apartment just to give you a hug when you're sad kind of love. I used to think that my time here was depressing/sad, but that is simply not true. I got slapped across the face with so much love it left me dizzy and wanting more.

You know, writing big long thank-you posts is not really my steezy, but I kind of want to do just that. To let everyone know I have the greatest people in my life who constantly amaze me and make me want to be better and lift me up. I went through the hardest times of my life while I was living here in Provo, but I gained so much. Why doesn't everyone just come over in the next month or so and I can hug you all for like 5 minutes straight? That sounds like a good plan to me. 

This move is temporary (I think) but it still feels...something. Feels like I'm leaving a piece of my heart here. 

Oh McKenzie, you drama queen (see image at the very top for reference).

♪ wake up in the morning feeling like p-diddy ♫ *falls out of bed*

this cake is for everyone who graduated/is gonna graduate/is done with school/is gonna be done with school this week 

(Trent, do not comment on this picture... I swear)

The other day I used those gas station pumps to put air in my bike tires because it is spring for realsies now, which means bike all day, all night, all the in-between times too, and the air leaked onto my hands and smelled like a dead fish. Not cool, gas station pumps. Not cool.

I finally met my spirit animal, the lovely Heather. Roxberries=McFrenzy friendship initiation. If you haven't eaten smoothies with me yet (whispers)...then we aren't actually friends. SOrry.

please notice Pokey's hiney in this picture. 

never thought I would type that sentence.

She just texted me to say that she forgot to bring actual pants to school. Is she the greatest or is she the greatest (praise hands)?

P.S. Read this, it's worth it.

I just realized that I give you guys, like, stage directions while I'm writing. What is that all about?

Last night I was the only girl in a room full of 6 boys. Don't be jealous. ...Really. Like, I was sitting on top of their giant bean bag chair (it's at least 2 stories tall) while they watched the NBA Playoffs. If last night was an episode of a sitcom, that episode would be called "If Men Are From Mars Then Women Are From A Galaxy Far, Far Away from Mars."

Observe:

me: "This is the part of sports I don't get...the highlights. Why do we have to watch them all over again? And why do they analyze it? It was great. But it's over now."
*instant replay of someone dunking a basketball...I think*
boy: "But didn't that just make your heart so happy?"
me: "I wasn't paying attention...heh."
boy: "Oh. Well it was awesome."
me: ....

boy: are you enjoying yourself? (hint of sarcasm there, but I forgive you-know-who-you-are)
me: [on Pinterest] yes! *shifty eyes*

girls that came over to visit for 5 seconds and therefore I didn't get names: hey guys wassup.
boys: hey, hey, come in and sit!
girl: oh no, we were just out walking.
boy: but you've been walking all day....
girl: ...through your mind? ha. hahaha. ehhhh.
boy: yeah. yeah. that's what I was gonna say.
boy: hey did you leave Jell-O on my porch?
me: is this the beginning of another pick-up line?
*everyone laughs uncomfortably*
girl: no...but I know a girl in my ward who was making lots of Jell-O this weekend.
(can we just pause in this conversation for a second and revel in it? it's so great. only in Provo. okay. un-pause. again with the stage directions.)
boy: oh that explains it!
girl: yeah all my Jell-O is still in boxes.
*everybody laughs because that was a double meaning if I ever saw one*

boy #1: hey, look at my phone background. isn't it cool?
boy #2: hey, that's my phone background too!
me: well they're kind of the same.
boy #1: okay, you judge them. which one is better.
boy #2: hey you have the brightness turned up! no fair! let me turn my brightness up. okay. now judge.
me: okay..well...you see, the trees are in this aesthetically-pleasing line in this one, so it's more pleasing to the eye. (errybody's eyes are glazing over because of the art references)
boy #1: okay but what about mine. it has aesthetic lines.
me: well, it has a bird in it. so that's cool. but the lines are more abrasive in it.
boy #1: you're abrasive!

boy: I just realized that this smells bad (pulling undenifiable object out of couch cushion)
other boys: ew, what is it? let me smell. (they pass it around and all smell it)
me: (making turtle face)
boy: you wanna smell?
me: no thanks. I'll pass.

I just...DK. And no, that does not stand for Donkey Kong. Although we could make that a verb if we wanted to. You know how when people (Elder Holland) slam their fists on the pulpit? Donkey Kong! "Oh he just donkey-konged that piece of wood!" ....ehh okay maybe not.

And now, a photo essay on how I spent my Easter.

don't mess.

#skullet

babies are my favorite versions of humans. just so we're clear.

This week begins wedding season. Seriously...2 (maybe 3) wedding festivities in 5 days. Utah in the summer is just one giant wedding reception, yo. And that's not even the half of it. I'm supposed to go on like 3 road trips this summer, what! 

Peace.

all I wanna do is [*gunshot* *gunshot* *cash register noise*] take a nap for six hours

Having a messed-up liver is pretty lame. I mean, it's right up there with all the most delicious foods making you gain weight and having to pay lots of money for the coolest things (except for temporary tattoos. Temporary tattoos are only 25 cents! #staypositive). Like, what kind of world is this? Anyway. Liver problemz=me needing to sleep all the time. Like you've never heard that one. 

Just a random but true thought: I never feel like I'm more at the height of my English skills than when I type "fjsklafjsa;fdjl;sa" in a text message to express deep feelings about something. 

how to properly text someone you like: (by me)

you: hey you remind me of pizza.

crush: how so?

person: I love pizza.

BOOM.

And now, the  "McKenzie-Is-The-Most-Awkward-Human" portion of our show:

The first time someone asked me about Tinder was a year ago. I thought she was talking about kindling. I was like "do I have tinder? For what? Are you starting a fire? Can I come?"

I'm not an arsonist. Just for the record. I'm just always cold. 

So, Tinder. 2 weeks ago I was completely against the idea. Then my friend Kenzie (not the friend in the mirror, c'mon you guys, I know I'm crazy but not that much) was like "Yo I have a tinder, it's way funny and sort of a confidence boost."

So says I, "Okay, I shall download it." And I did. And it was...the...most...hilarious thing I have ever experienced. And it probably ruined online dating for me forever. As in, it made me think I was shallow. More shallow than a kiddie pool. 

The concept is thus:

You write a 500-word bio. Most people don't write the 500 words because a) they don't know what to write to "hook" people [don't make it gross] and b) they think simply writing their height and where they go to school is sufficient information to snag a date. 

Then you add up to 5 pikshas of yourself, preferably mirror selfies if you're keeping up with the times, and hope that people start swipin' right. Basically, Tinder finds people in the area that match your age criteria (that's it, just age. I KNOW RIGHT?! It's wrong. It's so wrong. And yet it's right. I guess. Wait. I don't have evidence to back that up so I take it back.). And you just swipe through the options, all day long. Left=not interested. Right=interested.

But hold on a minute. "Interested" in what exactly? What do you know about this person? You know they are somewhat attractive based on the (hopefully) current pictures of themselves they have posted. And you know their height. And you know they all have a niece or two. I'm just saying, this is the pattern with the men of Tinder. Lit'rally almost every guy has this information on his profile. And 95% of them have a shirtless picture. And that's basically it.

The guys I swiped right for had something different about them. And that "something" was the (*angel chorus singing*) BIIIIIIiiiiiiOooooooooooooOOOOO.

Translation: the bio. 

Words. Words are my jam and my jelly. 

These go in the hall of fame. Or shame. I'll let you decide which ones I swiped right for. 

And then, something weird happened. Boys started to talk to me. And all of them had something to say about my bio...er...except for the first one. And that, my friends, is the power of some good writing skillz. Sha-bam. I'm not even embarassed that 50% of my "about me" was about food. Not even a little bit. Because look where it got me.

Don't worry. I saved the gif he sent me. Because it was pure gold. 

In the end, this was a super great social experiment. I learned that my English degree is super helpful in...picking up guys. Who knew??? 

Yesterday I deleted my account, so the fun is over. Until ne(ver)xt time! 

okay...one more. this was somebody's profile pic. whoever writes the best caption for this picture gets a jillion dollars and/or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made by me (the sandwich, not the jillion dollars. I'm definitely not gonna be the one making that).

p.s. this post is not meant to criticize anybody who uses Tinder. 
It's gr8. But...just not for moi. /end scene

and now there is a boy outside my window talking about his girlfriend's lame texting habits ("she didn't text me back for 7 hours!!!!") and I'm all like "yo, sleeping up in here."

Let the records show that I did not ask her to pose like this. 

SO. It's been awhile. #lyfe

I'm currently in my bed with a hot pad on (duh, because I'm an old lady and I never go to sleep without it). And a scarf. And a hoodie. Because the heat doesn't come on in my room or something. The irony is that there is a firepit outside my window for young single adults to gather around, and eventually cuddle, and eventually DTR and then get engaged. All while I shiver in my room, a mere 10 feet away, and sneeze myself to sleep. Ah, Provo.

I'm currently re-reading Harry Potter. It makes me feel 12. But then again, so does car-dancing, jumping on the bed, and eating chocolate for breakfast (all things which I regularly engage in, thank you very much).

Today a guy came into work and I rang him out, gave him his receipt, bla-blah, and then he like, looked into my soul and said "I need you to promise me that you'll have a good day." I said "Well it's already 6:30 so can I just get a rollover plan for tomorrow?" JK. I said "Um, sure!" ha. And smiled. Then he looked at me sternly and said "No really...promise me. Promise me you will." I said okay kind of nervously, because there were other people watching and I didn't want them to think we were, well, I don't know, he just had this look, okay?!

my thought process: "Guyz, I swear I did not know this human 50 seconds ago but now he is making me pinky-swear and that is reserved for BFFs so it feels like a violation."
what I really said: "Ahh, okay...yep, I promise!"
as he walked away: "Well, you promised now. So I'm going to check on it later. Okay? Okay McKenzie?" (dang that stupid nametag!)
me: Heheh...heh...(trailing laughter)
him: I'll see you later.

I'll mark my calendar for that day. And I shall mark it "RUN AWAY ON THIS DAY AND AT THIS TIME. TO MEXICO."

Oh yeah, and shoutout to Snapchat for providing me with a really awkward amount of terrible selfies on my camera roll. How will I ever explain this to my posterity? 

"Yeah so this one is of me with three chins and the caption says "I just ate lasagna." And I actually sent it to someone and they are still friends with me." Oh I know, I could make a book of parables about it! That'll learn them. 

Parable 1: Choose good friends who will still speak to you even after you send them Fat Tuesday pictures (#notamardigrasreference).

????????????????????

(this was before I added special effects. a.k.a. fake crayon art)

I request the highest of fives for completing this post while on cold medicine. Because if you know me well, you know how I react to any type of medication.

Mentos + diet coke.
Baking soda + vinegar.
McKenzie + drugz.

All da same reaction. Imploding. Exploding. Overall insanity.

here's a brief trip down memory lane (just me, talking to myself):
"hahaha remember when you shaved your legs 3x in one day because you were taking Sudafed?"

"omg or what about when the hospital gave you the stuff that's 10x stronger than morphine for 3 days and you had no control of your bladder whatsoever and everybody that visited you looked like a character from the Willy Wonka movie? remember when?"

"OR there was that precious time you took two Aleve and it knocked you out flat in the back of the car and so your parents went to a Christmas party while you slept in the backseat, and if anybody had walked by at the time they would've called the police because it looked like you'd been kidnapped and drugged (half of that is true). ??"

Ah, memories.

Don't do drugz. Over and out.

back in bidnez

Geesh. That was funky. I mean really. That last post was sooooooo serious. A bunch of people commented to me and said "Dang McKenzie, that was a lot of feelings" or "Is everything ok in your life? You don't have any razors available to you, right?" Gosh. I'm not that emo. Can't a girl wax poetic once in awhile? 

Anywayz. I'm going to stop before I bore you to death.

Here's some facts. 

Fact #1: I live in Provo. This is indeed true. I have not met two of my roommates yet. Not my fault, though, because they lit'rally never come out of their room. But you know what always gets people out of their rooms??? Do you?! (don't say an atomic bomb because gosh that is graphic). THE SMELL OF CINNAMON ROLLS. It's time for me to channel my inner Betty Crocker. Aand I can't believe I just said that.

Fact #2: I've decided on a running route. It goes up to the temple and around it and then back down the hill. Is there construction on this route? Duh. I live in Utah. The Land of Perpetual Everything Is Under Construction. I just think of it as an obstacle course. If I happen to fall into a manhole, so be it. At least I went down in style.....I mean spandex....wait. No. Those aren't synonymous. 

Fact #3: I found out about this amazing bike tour in Provorem (for only five bones!). Who is doing this with me? Just bring your bike and we'll gallivant around all the haunted places. Maybe we can re-make Hocus Pocus while we're doing it. I am down for such an activity. 

Fact #4: Flying squirrel costume + trampoline = perfect Halloween, right? Everyone leave your windows open please (that lives in Provo). Because you might be in for a surprise!

Wow. Nothing says pedophile like a costumed crazy person jumping in people's windows at night.

NVM. Forget I said any of that. But LOOOOKIT:

I didn't have time to photoshop my face onto that Brazilian girl's but SRSLY. I mean just imagine all the friends I would make if I wore this. True, these friends might be woodland creatures, but most Disney princesses are BFFs with woodland creatures sooooooooo.

Fact #5 I went to that Lumineers concert but guess what, the "Great" Saltair ripped everybody off and it's a long story which you can read all about on Yelp. Anywayz, The Lumineers ended up giving everyone a refund even though that wasn't their responsibility, but they are beautiful people (shout out to Jeremiah's beautiful face, specifically) for doing so. The Saltair (the concert venue) never acknowledged fault, and plenty of people who were there had things to say about it. The best insult I saw on their f-beezy wall was: "May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your minarets!" I feel like she studied Egyptian history at some point in her life. Omgosh maybe she's the Pharaoh's wife and she like traveled through time! Did anyone else see "The Mummy" back in the 90's? No? I'm the only one without taste? Kbye.

Oh, and there was a drunk girl at this concert (actually there were, like, thousands of drunk girls I think, and drunk guys, and people who were high). But while we were stuck in the crazy parking lot after our not-concert, I decided to make the best of it, and videotape aforementioned girl who was clearly wasted on something, but this did not in any way hinder her hula-hooping skillz (this is the videos I promised you, Eric-face).

oh yeah, and a truck started to back into us at the end of this vid. NBD

Fact #6: I recently learned how to make Brazilian cheese puffs. The story goes like this:

{me driving in my car, on the phone, which is not illegal, btw}

mama jo: hey we're making cheese bread balls over here.

me: you spoke the right words. bread. cheese. together in one food. I'll be there soon.

recipe is right hur, folks

Fact #7: Somebody made this Bill Nye gif. And in doing so, they also made my life.

Oh to live in a time when Bill Nye the Science Guy is on Dancing With the Stars! I can't wait to tell my children about this someday.

let's get real for a sec.

I have writer's block. I can't produce anything worth reading at this point in time. I mean, I could probably just paste a bunch of creepy Nicolas Cage pictures on here. Or space cats. The internet is rife with space cats, I tell you.

Buuuuut I decided to post something a little more serious, because SRSLY, this blog isn't all bout fun and games, you guyz. I can't be all funny and crazy all the time (actually I can, with enough chocolate in me...I can).

So, I'm moving. I'm actually really scared about it. I've been in my comfort zone for awhile now (aka my parents' house) and a month or so ago I decided it was time to spread my wings (who wants to be the wind beneath them? volunteers?).

The thing about comfort zones is that they aren't exactly greenhouses. Wow. That metaphor totally crashed and burned. It was like the Hindenberg all over again.

Anywayyy. What I'm trying to say is that we never really grow when we're comfortable. It feels nice and safe inside our bubbles, but we after awhile it gets too comfortable and there's nothing to do in there. It's time for a change. Helllloo, the first nine months of everybody's life is spent in a really comfy bubble, also known as the uterus, and then wa-BAM, comfort zone broken! In a really traumatic way. Sorry that you all have to poke your mind's eye out now.

But really. In all my experiences, stepping outside of the comfort zone is really, really hard at first. It's terrifying to take that step into the unknown and go "Okay Heavenly Father...I trust you. But is it going to be worth it?" And of course He always answers that question later with experiences and people and great feelings and then you find yourself looking back on them later going, "Hey! What was I even afraid of?"

So here's to the jumping off point. I'm sure I'll break some bones when I crash (I'll probably crash...I get distracted when I'm in motion. #klutzbomb)...but it will be worth it.

Tally-ho.

I hope I don't turn out like Meredith does in this gif...actually I hope I don't turn out like Meredith, period.

a brief explanation of some things on my camera roll in case I die or go missing in the future because I really need to justify myself in this regard

Everybody--ERRYBODY--has pictures on their camera roll which are hard to explain. They usually elicit the following responses when shown to others: "Whaaaaat?" or "I didn't deserve to see that" or just straight up "fjskla;fjafja;fa;" (haven't figured out how to actually make that sound yet).

You know what I mean. If the person you're showing the picture to wasn't there, they won't get it. And will therefore judge you.

I'm a firm believer in showing people one picture which they will surely understand, and then taking back your phone asap because nobody deserves to be judged by the other things on their camera roll without being able to explain.

Well, except for maybe certain celebrities (Miley Cyrus, I am lit'rally talking to you...because I know you read my blog).

If you are holding someone else's phone to look at one picture they have designated for your viewing delight, do them the courtesy of not scrolling through the rest of the pictures. I mean really.

Now that I've spent 5 paragraphs talking about why you shouldn't judge other people's camera rolls, I am going to reveal mine to you because of....well just BECAUSE, okay? #solidarity #orsomething?

Oh who am I kidding. It's to make you cry-laugh. That's why this blog EXISTS. And now, la leche, as they say in Spain, which means "the coolest crud you'll ever see."

you GUYZ. now this gas station in AF is a one-stop shop for all your shopping needs. You can fill up your car, get some foodstuffs, AND buy clothes. Maxi skirts, even. I wonder if they have chevron...I mean the skirt-pattern, not the gas station. #seewhatididthere

When my photo-editor asked me if I wanted this picture to be "small, medium, large, or x-large," I chose x-large. And I feel like that's all that needs to be said. Goodbye.

so my bff Chelsea moved into her apartment today. She's a little short on decorations right now, but at least she has these wooden figurines. One of them is reading in Braille. Guess which one. 

Earlier dis week I went to eat Mexican food with Eric-face. We didn't go to Beto's this time, so no "egg sacs" or "propels" this time. BUT I did happen upon this rotary phone by the register, which you can use to call Mexico apparently. I mean **Mexico** (the asterisks are relevant, you guys. I'll tell you why once I figure it out). P.S. Don't call Colombia unless you have $2,000 bones. And I think that only applies to you if you're Shakira. Yes, Shakira, I know you read my blog too. 

 Once upon a time I went on a date and it was amazeballs but the best part of all was when we went geo-caching and found this box of dinosaur toys and a note behind Taco Bell. I'm not racist but I was really hoping for some narcotics. I mean, the route was called "Run for the Border." What am I supposed to think?? Anyway. This note was inside. It was funny. The end. Props to Alan's hand which made this picture possible.

 We could ruminate on how awkward this picture is since I was "pretending to take a selfie in Costco because people take selfies in Costco all the time especially when sampling the delicious hors d'oeuvres" but what I really want to talk about is how that guy behind me LOOKS LIKE WOLVERINE. Don't worry, his hair was totally doing the stick-up thing and he was wearing boots. I'm sure he had a leather jacket somewhere. Like 89.7% sure.

One day we were at my grandparents' in Ogden and I said to myself "Self, you could really use some fiber right now. Because who doesn't need more fiber?" And then I found THESE. It was a Christmas Miracle. Just FYI, I didn't need fiber for about a week after consuming these.

One of the simple joys of life is trying to get wi-fi and then happening upon some excellent router names. For example, this one I found in the middle of Las Vegas. I mean really. Let's be best friends, whoever you are. I want to learn your thug ways. 

 The story goes like this: we went to San Diego. We ate lots of Mexican food. We went to CVS for the 2nd time in 3 hours. For the same thing (nail polish, don't judge). We went to an abandoned beach and it was dark. I was barefoot and in a dress. There was a huge rock and I didn't see it. The rock caused me to faceplant while making a very attractive "Hooomppphhaaaa" noise simultaneously. So I re-enacted that fall next to the sign "Unstable cliffs! Stay back!" Because we all know how I feel about unstable cliffs. #klutzbomb

 Part 1 in a series entitled "Awkward License Plates: A Retroactive Study in Sketchy Individuals." I read the Wall Street Journal too much. Or not enough??? You be the judge.

 So there was this one time, at Disneyland, we were getting onto Pirates for the 10,000th time (not sorry) and this girl was in front of us and I was like "hoolllllldddd up" and my friend Elise volunteered to pose with the back of her "shirt" and I snapped this glorious photo. Proof that people still think it's acceptable to wear their clothes even after they've run over them with a lawnmower. Except she didn't look like the lawnmowing type. 

 Look, it's my homie Elise again! This was at the beginning of our Disneyland trip (a.k.a. Orem). We needed some plastic knives for our cream cheese and bagels which we had recently purchased at Win-Co. Well obviously it was awkward to go through the drive-thru just for some knives. The girl helping us was super-confused (who, as you can see from this picture, actually turned out to be a guy. Oops).

"Hi, we'd just like some plastic knives."

"Some what? Kites?"

"Knives."

"Chives? This is McDonaldzzzzz."

"Knives! K-N-I-V-E-S."

"Huh?"

"You know, knives? Like with a blade?"

"Ohhh knives."

(we pull up, realize it's a guy. awkward.)

He says: "So you're the people with the knives, right?"

Alright, buddy. Way to make us sound like really, really disturbed people. AND he has that microphone thing. Honestly. Shout it from the rooftops, why don't you.

Earlier this summer I took it upon myself to climb Timp, which I did, and almost died upon doing so, and kind of did it by myself, but that's a different story. This is me at the trailhead with my amiga Okin. You can see it on my face: "What the carp am I doing?!" Yeah. I still don't know. What I did. Like. Why. 

But, still. Who wants to go again?! I'm serious. Please before it snows. Kbye.

 Part 2 in the series ""Awkward License Plates: A Retroactive Study in Sketchy Individuals." I'm thinking I could also calls this "Inappropriate License Plates: A Retroactive Study in People You Should Be Praying For."

I dunno why I keep throwing "retroactive" in there. Again, too much Wall Street Journal.

My BFF Chels and I made some tortillas to go with our deeelicous burritos. But I have a hard time making tortillas into circles. #notmexican 

 When I used to work at this certain law office with a slice of bacon on the sign (I'm dead serious, you can see it from the freeway and I'll show it to you ANYtime), I would get really ominous phone calls. Would you answer if this was on your caller I.D?! I actually ended up answering one time thinking it would be kind of fun to live a real life horror film. But the guy was super nice and also really confused when I told him his caller I.D. came up as "death." I asked him if he was friends with a little boy who wore giant glasses and stole figurines from churches. Negative, chief. I almost solved that one. 

IKEA sells these dolls to children. CHILDREN.

I'm sorry, but there is no way a face like that is comforting or gives a child warm fuzzies. 

That infamous night I went to Beto's, I happened upon this sticker on the back of someone's car. I hope it's not offensive to anyone who can speak Russian or whatever language that is....What I need to know is, what's with the possessed baby? Thoughts?

Well, as always, it's been real, you guys.

peace and blessinz'

yes, but how close is it to jamba juice?

Moving is a pain in the patootie. For the record, I hate that word and I'm never using it again. You're welcome.

So the truth is out now: I'm moving to Provorem, the place where all single people go to die...I mean...live. LIVE. Gosh. 

Looking for apartments via the internetz is entertaining.

So far, here's the success I've had.

"Ooh this one looks nifty! Like a house from Main Street USA in Disneyland!"

(sees rent price)

"Hmm I really don't want to sell my kidney this year. Nevermind bye."

"Sweet, this one has a fireplace. I can finally re-create that scene in Hunchback of Notre Dame when the bad guy falls flat on his face in front of the fire [unrealistic, he should've had his eyebrows singed off] after having a weird vision of the gypsy Esmerelda!"

"....Oh wait nevermind it doesn't have a bell tower."

"Ready to move in! Fully-furnished! Also includes a cat, 2 dogs, a pig, 2 chickens, and a parrot! .....aw shoot, I clicked on zookeeper job postings again." Yeah except that I didn't. This was real life. REAL. Life. 

"This apartment is probably perfect for you if you like hepatitis!"

Yeah, so that one might be inside of Beto's. 

Do you see my predicament?

Oh yeah, and I am pretty sure I will lose all use of my arms trying to move my book-boxes into my car. Why must I carry around my library with me?! 

I just..DK.

Peace and blessin's and also help me find a place if you know of anything that isn't more expensive than Dolly Parton's plastic surgery bill and is also close to a smoothie place (#priorities)

KTHANKSBYE