Search Results for: will

More Tailgating Food!

September 9, 2011 by Lindsay 15 Comments

Blackened Chicken

You might remember from last week's post that, until last Saturday, I'd never been tailgating. I had, however, heard of the culinary lengths that people go to each week in preparation for a home game. The stories were all true!

I actually made this chicken last week when my friends Adam and Cara came over for dinner, but it would be PERFECT at a tailgate or cookout - two things that are happening a lot this weekend with the fabulous weather we've been having!

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Virginal

September 1, 2011 by Lindsay 31 Comments

I have to admit something to you. I don't want you to be angry.

I've never been to a Clemson football game.

This might not come as a shock to you, if you know me even a little bit.

There are several reasons why I may have never been to a game:

I'm a girl.
I don't care about football.
I didn't go to Clemson.
I don't care about football.
I don't live in Clemson

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My 5 WORST Moments in Comedy

August 30, 2011 by Lindsay 2 Comments

5. I was at Soho Coffee House performing at an open mic night, and per usual I was bombing (it's very hard to get laughs when most people are staring at their laptops and praying for you to shut your filthy, unfunny mouth). I was making fun of Jesus (a staple in my act) or some other aspect of religion which I find stupid and out of date when out of nowhere I started getting yelled at (leave it to a religious nut to get offended by someone making fun of their Savior. WWJD?). He was attacking me verbally and telling me point blank, "You're not funny. Nothing you've said has been funny." Despite it being true, it was still hurtful. So we went back and forth, back and forth until I absolutely lost my cool and started to yell at him. "Who do you think you are, go to hell you stupid sack of shit..." This went on and on. Then I decided to go big and lay the hammer down by saying, "Dude, you should have been an abortion. What a waste you are." That was when he charged the stage and challenged me to fight. I was scared but excited because there were 20 other comics and I'm fairly confident they'd have stepped in. By this time most people had looked up from their laptops and were fully engaged in the accidental drama scene that erupted during a shitty comedy show. Feeling defeated I walked outside to smoke a cigarette and was hailed as a hero by the employees of the coffee shop. The staff had been trying to find a way to kick that guy out of their establishment, but didn't have anything that stuck. This stuck and after that I always had the respect of the employees that worked in there and got free coffee quite frequently, not to mention all of the cigarettes I could bum.

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Stick a Fork in It

July 25, 2011 by Lindsay Leave a Comment

Sunday nights can mean lots of things for lots of people. Some families spend them together preparing for the week. Workaholics spend a few hours on their laptop/iPad/Blackberry/Droid/desktop (really?)/VM/remote server/VPN/iPhone (okay, enough) getting a head start on the work week. Moms do laundry; kids in college recover from a weekend of binge-drinking and sleep deprivation. I drink copious amounts of boxed wine and cook unhealthy food while listening to stories about Jay growing up as a fat kid.

Last night was no different, and I have NO CLUE what we were talking about when he said “Wait, have I never told you the story about when I got hung by my underwear from a tree at camp?”

You have my attention….

Um, no, darling, you have not.

This, friends, was my entertainment during dinner last night. At one point in the story I demanded violently that Jay stop talking while I turned on my computer and took notes.

Yep, notes. It was really good. I didn’t want to forget anything due to the copious amounts of wine I may or may not have been drinking. It’s really lucky that, unlike those college kids, I know when enough is enough on the night before a new week of work and school starts. Well, it would be lucky, if that were the case (sorry, Mama).

Ok, let’s travel back to 8^th grade. Jay was still very fat and had extremely low self-esteem. The problem was, he had a comic’s brain and a fat boy body – a combination that tended to get him into trouble. He went to camp for one month and one evening on some sort of a walk/hike/sleepoutsideordeal he was getting made fun of by the camp counselor and his fellow campers for being fat, doughy, pale, mildly effeminate, having massive breasts, etc.

He is none of those things now.

Um, wait, the COUNSELOR was making fun of him? I didn’t say anything and let him continue.

“I snapped and said SHUT THE F*CK UP (sorry, Daddy) and stuck a FORK in his leg. Rightly pissed, the counselor assisted in instructing the campers in giving me a massive wedgie that borderlined on atomic, and hung me by my underwear by a tree stub where I hung for about two hours until my Fruit of the Looms snapped and the tree branch slid into my back and gashed up my spine until I hit the ground. I had to walk all the way back to camp alone, defeated.”

“I feel two feet. On my ass. With a huge slit up my spine.”

Now, at this point I would like you to envision a slightly chubby, slightly sunburned blonde girl nearly vomiting with laughter while trying to continue inhaling penne with tomato cream sauce and herbs (I’ll teach you how to make that soon, promise), type furiously, and drink wine while not falling off the couch or spilling anything into her work-issued computer.

I am beautiful and poised, always.

As we continued down Memory Lane I discovered that Jay didn’t report the incident because he felt that he was to blame since stabbed the counselor in the leg with a FORK. I’m all for justice and punishment concerning anger management issues, but WHY was a counselor making fun of a 13 year old fat kid? His name was Dan, apparently. I hope Dan is fat and mocked now. I also pondered the difference between girls and boys at that age – girls would have RUN to tattle on the counselor, the campers, the squirrels in the vicinity who didn’t report the incident sooner – ANYONE. Boys operate a little differently.

Even today I feel bad for that fat kid dangling two feet in the air by his undies. He was really cute in an innocent….asexual way – I’ve seen pictures. Luckily, Jay is skinny now and can blame me for any and all weight gain incurred, because we have a relationship of mutual respect in which he requests something healthy and light for dinner and I remind him that 1. I’m cooking, 2. Bad food tastes better, 3. I bought the ingredients and 4. His opinion matters very little to me and will he please take out the trash since he’s whining?

He’s a lucky man. I heart him for putting up with my crap.

On a side note, I went and ate dinner Friday night at the restaurant where Jay works. His coworker/friend/attractive other server took one look at me and said “is that the crazy girl from the blog?”

Yep, in the flesh.

Happy Monday, everyone!

Lindsay

The Time I Got Pooped On While Vacuuming

July 20, 2011 by Lindsay 6 Comments

Callie is a great dog - if you ask Lindsay. If you ask me, Callie has minor personality flaws that stem from being the product of a broken home and having a mother that works full time. You mix that with the fact that she isn’t a pure bred Labrador (unlike my dog, Jake), and you’ve got a whole other mess of issues that even Cesar Milan couldn’t work through. However, Callie is a sweet dog. She’s got a good heart and means well. The only time I really get agitated with her is when she whines in the morning to be let outside. I just want her to be like Jake. Jake will silently sit in the corner until I wake up and then wait for me to ask him, “Wanna go outside?” But, not everyone’s dog can be rescued from an abusive family like mine was. Jake has the self-esteem of a woman from the Lifetime Channel and I love that about him.

Shortly after Lindsay and I started dating she spent the night in Clemson in order to cut down on the travel between work and school. She left for work bright and early and left me to take care of the dogs. My inner stay-at-home-mom reared her ugly head and I got motivated to clean house. This happens about twice a year. I got out the vacuum cleaner and proceeded to start vacuuming. No dog likes the sound of a vacuum. Jake hates it and does the normal thing of simply walking into the next room. As soon as I turned the vacuum on Callie went bonkers. She froze with a look on her face that said, “Hey, does no one else hear Satan’s army marching towards us all right now? We’re screwed people! Run for your lives!” She bolted towards the bedroom scared out of her mind. Because I am an ass and found this hilarious, I may or may not have run after her with the vacuum cleaner. Anywho, I finished vacuuming the living room and headed towards the bedroom. I got to the doorway and that’s when I saw Callie crouched in the corner shaking like an addict with DT’s. For a split second I felt sorry for the dog, but that feeling quickly vanished.

Before I realized what was going on Callie sprang into action. Like a bullet from a gun she pounced and headed right for me. Now, I’m standing squarely in the doorway. I maybe have 6 – 8 inches of space on either side of me. Callie leaped into the air (at full speed, mind you), and attempted her Great Escape. That is when the shit, literally hit the wall. She decided to try and pass me on the inside when her momentum was stopped by my left leg and door jam. Her hind-end whipped around and slammed against the wall, where upon impact she vacated her bowels. She sprayed a stream of shit against my wall that I’d say was a good 5 feet long. Oh, but it didn’t stop there. If you’ll remember Sir Issac Newton’s claim, “every action has an equal and opposite reaction,” you’ll know what happens next. “Look out boys it’s comin’ back around!” Her ass recoiled from the violent whiplash it had just incurred and now faced my chest and legs. Unfortunately, her asshole was still wide open and still in the process of poo’ing. I got covered in a healthy, liquid shit-mist from my navel to my knees. Much like a citizen of Iraq, I was in full Shock and Awe.

You know that reaction we all have when we smell dog shit? Well, I almost broke my neck due to the violent dry heaving that instinctually kicked in. I start jumping up and down and waving my hands like a schoolgirl that has just witnessed Miley Cyrus getting shot in the face. I did the only thing that makes sense to me at the time: I removed my shorts and started freaking out in a half naked, penis flapping, shit-stained daze. I called Lindsay at work hoping to gain some sort of support.

At this point in the story, Lindsay would like to recount her version of the Call of Doom. Let’s all remember that it is 10:30 on a Tuesday morning and Lindsay is working and not expecting calls from anyone.

Lindsay: Hello?

Jay: HI!!

Lindsay: Hi, how are you?

Jay: Uh, I’ve been better!

Lindsay: Oh no, what’s wrong?

Jay: Um, Callie is afraid of the vacuum.

Lindsay: I know that, and so do you.

Jay: Well, she just had diarrhea all over my house.

Lindsay: WHAT?!? What did you DO to her?!?! Is the ok?!!?!

Jay: Nothing! It was the vacuum! She’s outside on the porch right now travelling down a shame spiral, and I’m doing NOTHING to make her feel better.

~uproarious laughter~

Lindsay: Ok, well, I can leave in half an hour and come help you clean up. I’m so sorry!

Jay: Its not your fault, I just needed to tell someone. Well, I’m a shit-covered bald man naked from the waist down, and I’m kind of scared, so I should go.

~giggle~

~click~

Lindsay could not have been more helpful. She volunteered to leave work and help me clean up her dog’s ass residue. However, when she found out that I was half naked, and covered in shit, she lost it and started laughing in my ear. We both started laughing and that’s when I knew I could really start calling in favors and hang this over her head for quite sometime. I’ve gotten some good mileage out of Callie crapping on me, but it also let me know that Lindsay is the type of person I love…one who laughs at others’ misery and misfortune, but is happy to help get you out of said misfortune. It’s a great quality to find in a human being.

There is no good way to wrap this story up. I got pooped on. It was horrible. I still resent Callie for doing it. I’m glad I got a good story out of it though.

Jay