Monthly Archives: December 2009

You Know What Day It Is Today!?

So I had a lovely dinner at a diner (a diner dinner) with my loser friend, Leighton, tonight. I had the pancakes and she had the lentil soup (clearly, I won the ordering competition). Not wanting to cut our date short, we decided to mosey on over to the neighborhood CVS to pick up some goods.

Number-o uno on my list was deodorant but it took us far too long to locate my target. It was really well hidden… like the CVS was desperately trying to hold onto its stash of deodorant… there was even a ridiculous system of tiles covering the products like that childrens’ game where you move the tiles around to make a picture. Once me and Leighto Potato found the deodorant rack I realized I was faced with a big question.

Do I want to smell like a clean, put together woman… or do I always want to feel like a I’m constantly being followed by a hot guy with good hygiene? Of course, once I vocalized my inner conundrum, the answer was obvious. I scoured the men’s section and found the prize – Old Spice Game Day Deodorant.

Not only will I be constantly followed by the lingering scent of a man, I have decided that it will be physically impossible to put on my game day deodorant and not giggle a little inside. “Wake up Bennett! You know what day it is today!? IT’S GAME DAY!!!!” Then I’ll meat-out for a good five minutes while listening to 80’s hair bands and chest bumping my cat. If we’re going to be super serial though… I imagine my Game Day Deodorant with a mouth and the voice of the man who says “Sunday, Sunday, SUNDAY!” on the boob tube.

I just looked at the Old Spice website and I got even MORE excited about my purchase.

Give your armpits a victory parade.

The triumphant scent of Game Day runs a half-back split straight up a woman’s nose. We designed it this way because if you look at a lady’s head, her nose is closest to her brain where her decision to date you is made.

• Long lasting for 24 hours of “handsome-smelling quarterback smell.”
• Crisp, triumphant scent.

I would rather have the long lasting, handsome-smelling, hilarious & creative genius smell following me around as opposed to quarterback… but I think that was too wordy for the advertisement. At least the scent will be crisp and triumphant.

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Messed Up Dream #4: Law School Drumline

So I’m running through an old-fashioned high school that ends up being a law school of some sort. All of a sudden, I’m blocked by a large group of people who turn out to be the drumline of law school X. They’re technically the best drumline out there but they have a reputation for being… well… evil. They try to convince me to join their drumline and right when I’m about to succumb to their persuasive powers, their rival drumline shows up.

So now we’ve got Evil Drumline and Rival Drumline.

Rival Drumline is known for being cool and laid back. They’re not as technically precise, but they also don’t have a reputation for being evil. So after a push-and-pull of epic proportions between the two groups, I decide to team up with Rival Drumline and an 80’s-themed training montage began. There were drums, muscular men, pick up trucks, and mountains involved.

All of a sudden, it’s time for the drum-off and we all congregate in the high school law school auditorium. I’m waiting in the back wings (because I’m cool and I’m allowed to be wherever I want) and I’m standing next to the opening act… Lady Gaga (yeah she’s our opener… we’re a big deal)… but this Lady Gaga is a 5ft, overweight, Asian woman with really bad lipstick.

Gaga is all upset because someone messed up her performance and I sit her down and explain that she is a strong, independent woman and she shouldn’t let ANYONE tell her otherwise. (Not really sure what that had to do with the performance, but I said it anyway.) Apparently, this was exactly what she needed to hear and we went skipping off down the hall, giggling like little schoolgirls.

Then I woke up.

This is the Rival Drumline equivalent:

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Om nom nom nom!

Haha this is awesome. The cats actually “om nom nom” when they’re eating!

Oooooooohhh shit.

I just posted two cat videos.

It’s official.

The third stage of toxoplasmosis is setting in.


As soon as I get home I’m seeing if Fannie will do this if I feed her sour cream.
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Bagel + Geometric Marvel = LOVE



“Professor and artist George Hart figures out how to cut a bagel into two congruent halves—they “pass through each other’s holes, like two links of a chain.” One bagel. Two halves. Unbroken. Interlocking.

Impossible, you say? Not when “the motion of the knife follows the surface of a two-twist Möbius strip.” Yes, in a single long knife cut, you can transform an everyday bagel into two linked halves. And the best part?

It is much more fun to put cream cheese on these bagels than on an ordinary bagel. In additional to the intellectual stimulation, you get more cream cheese, because there is slightly more surface area.”

I didn’t think it was possible for me to find a way to enjoy my everything bagel with scallion cream cheese even more than I already do! The only thing I could think of that would elevate my bagel enjoyment to the next level would be to make tofutti illegal… what if someone accidentally put that shiz on my bagel?! I CANNOT TRUST THAT I WONT ACCIDENTALLY INGEST TOFU CREAM CHEESE!

I think I should master this art form and send it to my college math professor who taught me how to create mobius strips (not with bagels because he was too busy picking out his safari outfit to think of something as perfect as that), determine which infinites were more infinite than the others, untie knots on a piece of paper while using the 4th dimension, and other fun nuggets.

These are the step-by-step instructions.

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Darwin Award Nominee

What a way to go…

“A Ukrainian chemistry student who had the bizarre habit of chewing gum after dipping it in citric acid, has been found dead with his jaw blown off.

The student’s jaw was believed to be blown off by exploding chewing gum.

Officers found citric acid packets and a similar-looking unidentified substance, believed to be some kind of explosive material, on a table near the 25-year-old’s body, Russian news agency Ria Novosti said.

Investigators suspect the student confused the packets and put gum covered with explosive material into his mouth.”

Do you think he knew his mistake right before he died? “Hmm this citric acid tastes kinda funny. Hey, what’s this explosive powder doing overooooohhhhSHITTTTTTTKABOOM!”

This reminds me of something I just read in Jonathan Safran Foer’s book Everything Is Illuminated. I completely agree with this sentiment.

 “He felt no pain, they told her. He felt nothing, really. Which made her cry more, and harder. Death is the only thing in life that you absolutely have to be aware of as it’s happening.” 

Of course, the importance of this occurence is directly related to what you believe happens after you die. If you believe that when you die you will be carried by softly lit, giggling, celestial beings, then the awareness of that moment really isn’t important at all because you’re about to  spend the next eternity or two + a fortnight (I’ve never been good with numbers) with all the people who were too lame to get the VIP passes to the underground party.

If you don’t believe in an after life than the moment right before you die is the most important moment of your life. This is it (the end of life, not the Michael Jackson pic). So for this guy’s sake let’s hope he either believes in ascending to heaven on a chariot carried by Balloon Boy… or he was chewing on something memorable like Hubba Bubba Bubble Tape or Big League Chew.

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There Should Be Laws Against Shit Like This

So my friend, Aaron, introduced me to the website and I have to admit that I think it’s fantastic. The site normally features such delicacies as the Chipwich On A Stick (Ice cream dipped in chocolate, rolled in sprinkles and peanuts, sandwiched between two fresh waffles and served on a stick) and the Smortuary (One layer of marshmallows, a layer of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, another layer of marshmallows sandwiched between two S’more Pop-Tarts topped in chocolate sauce).

But this is just WRONG! I give to you, the The Scotch MegaEgg…

20 hard-boiled eggs wrapped in bacon and covered in sausage meat and breading, baked whole.

You may now excuse yourself from the computer to go vomit.

It’s just…. I mean… I don’t…. It can’t…. Gross.

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Fun fact – my initials spell out M.O.B.

In the rap world (my favorite of all worlds – right after Mario World) this stands for Money Over Bitches… so, naturally, many of my friends have taken to calling me Money Ovah, M.O.B., etc… because I’m just so dern ghetto. Money Over Bitches is also the name of my drunken alter ego.

Money Ovah also has a signature.

And now I give to you Tupac and Lil Wayne. Dems my homies!

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There Should Be An Age Limit For Googlers

Apparently 13-year-old girls are really hittin up Google for some important information – mainly the residences of their idols Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus, Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift.

Now here’s the part that I wish I was making up… I found this out because I was googling… “Where does Whoopi Goldberg live?”

In my defense, it was because I wanted to camp outside of her house while pretending I was homeless so she would adopt me into her family.  I just think that she’d really love me as a person and I’m really good at waxing eyebrows completely off (I learned the hard way that I should never try and use cold wax strips at home) and I can sing with my mouth shut so really she has to love me right?! RIGHT?! YOU WILL LOVE ME WHOOPI GOLDBERG!!

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I Have A Problem

I. HATE. PREDICTIVE. ADVERTISING. It’s like facebook can see straight into my mind. Not. OK. (I, Money Ovah, really like punctuation today.)

Here’s a closeup of that pic in case you can’t see it.

A) Have I really looked up bacon and cheeseburgers so often on my computer that it recognizes I have an unhealthy appreciation for fast food?!

B) THERE IS NO WAY TO ANSWER THIS QUESTION! Baconator vs. Bacon Deluxe?! This is one of those classic questions that will never be answered like “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” or “How much wood could a wood chuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” or “Why is Lindsay Lohan still allowed to be alive?”

UPDATE: My friend just informed me that while I get fast food advertisements, he gets gay sex ads on his facebook… awesome.

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