The Seven Deadly Sins

On my previously mentioned breakfast with Chloe and Dee, part of the conversation was directed towards the seven deadly sins. How did this happen, you ask?

Well, Chloe goes “I wonder if I’ve committed any sins lately…” while in this exact situation:

 **she was eating off all the plates**

Uh yeah there, champ. You’re committing a sin right now… GLUTTONY.

And then of course, the hot manager man that kept ninja’ing out of photos kept walking by causing her to go bright red and slouch down in her seat, so that’s LUST.

She also had problems getting out of her PJs until 1pm that day, so we’re looking at SLOTH.

That’s right. 12 years old and committed at least THREE deadly sins in less than an hour.

Flash to me. 28 years old and probably committing all 7 sins on a regular basis… Let’s see:

Sloth: I go to work looking like a fucking hobo on a regular basis so I can squeeze an extra 15 min of sleeping in. That’s right. I “could” do my hair and put on make up, but screw that noise. I’d rather look like a bag lady and have gotten my 15 min of extra bed time than go that extra mile in my appearance. Also, notice I haven’t drawn pictures lately and have been using real photos? That’s because I’m fucking lazy and don’t want to put forth the effort of drawing stick figures at the moment.

Lust: Due to the fact that there are minors that read my blog, I shall say I do have this sin in spades. IN SPADES with the shit that goes on in my head. And we will leave it at that. This sin alone has probably purchased me a one way ticket to Hell. But oh man it’s friggin’ worth it…

Greed: I have like, 17 game systems, games included. I play *maybe* 9 of them, if that. But I cannot get rid of them because the thought of other people having them irks me. Someone could point a gun at my head one day and be like “LISTEN BITCH! I WILL SHOOT YOU IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME A SEGA GAME GEAR RIGHT NOW!!!” See? I may need a neo geo pocket colour hand held gaming device at some point, and fuck you all if I’m going to look stupid on that day because I gave it away thinking it wouldn’t be useful.

Gluttony: I don’t eat frequently, but when I eat, I will eat until it hurts to breathe. And trust me, this is a feat. I reject so much food it’s ridiculous. Take pancakes for instance. I hate the edges. HATE THEM.

The perfect pancake:

The rejected part:

Please note that that is cream cheese icing on the pancake, not something else, regardless of what it looks like.

Me: Hey Dee, you know what this looks like?

Dee: uh.. oh… oh dear… yes…

Chloe: What? What does it look like?

Me: Yeah, Dee! What does it look like???

Dee: Uh… rotten milk… Yes. Rotten milk.

Me: Yeah. Good save…

Once I’ve finished eating, I will accuse the person or persons that were with me for being shitty supervisors and allowing me to eat too much, therefore my stomach aches are entirely their fault and I am blameless.

Wrath: Yeah. I will fucking cut you. Because I’m like that.

Pride: I talk about how awesome I am all the time. ALL the time. I may not be hot, but hellz ya my personality and skills are so amazing it’s ridiculous. Plus I’m insanely smart. Sad story is I’m insanely not motivated to do anything. I’m a genius who lacks ambition. This could be sloth AND pride, but that requires too much effort to go back and edit it.

Envy: This may be the only sin I don’t commit on a regular basis. I’m too much of a catty jerk to be envious of people. Unless they have lots of money. Or babies. Or lots of money AND babies. Then I’m all up in the envious business.

So I am all coated in a coat of sin. A Sin-Coat, if you will….

If I’m already going to hell anyway, might as well eat some fucking pancakes along the way!

Dinner with Neil

I recently went out for dinner with one of my best friends. A majority of the meal was spent with Neil wearing this face:

Why yes, that is the look of being unimpressed. It started with my giving him a present I made myself:

The fact of the matter is I made it different by eating the cherry, and the polite thing to do is frigging accept my gift. Jerk.

Neil is also the one that stated, “I am so glad you don’t drink or do drugs because the shit you say and do sober is hard enough to explain…” as well as “to define your craziness would be to compare it to something equally as crazy. That doesn’t exist.”

The dinner conversation ranged from things like the great cherry debate to:

Neil: Why the fuck do you say “yo” so much now!

Me: Because I’m ghetto.

Neil: Your father was a surgeon! You’re the least ghetto out of all of us!

Me: Don’t make me cut you.

That’s right. I threatened him with a butter knife. Then realized it was facing the wrong way… So then changed to a more threatening stance:

I may not seem too threatening, but I’ll fuck you up, yo. Butter knife or no butter knife, surgery is in my blood.

Near the end of dinner, Neil said one more beautiful grain of knowledge:

You know, sometimes I think killing you and disposing of the body would be a LOT of work. But in the long run it’s not as much work as being your friend…

I love you Neil.

A Breakfast Experience – how awkward certain un-named children find Karin

**note on the title: My wonderful friend Dee has a beautiful daughter who has quite grumpily complained she’s never been mentioned in a blog. Therefore I shall mention her, but not by name. Just as a participant in my adventure**

There are people that think I make shit up for humour’s sake. This is not the case. As un-named child stated, “Your life is exactly like your blog. People need to be around you to experience this otherwise they just don’t get it.” Yet she gets embarrassed spending time with me (but only in public, because then there are witnesses).

An example of this would be our wonderful brunch at Ihop. Before I can continue, I must explain. I do not generally acknowledge attractive people. Let me explain via picture. Below is an example of what people see when a physically attractive stranger walks by:

Now in all fairness, it may not be a shoe. It could be a hat, a scarf, or some other random inanimate object. I mean, I can generally understand why certain people are found attractive, but I personally don’t find them attractive unless I know them. Therefore my brain replaces them with the image of something more useful to me.

Now say said hot person speaks to you, the thought process is:

So my actually not only seeing an attractive person, but acknowledging them is so rare that you might as well buy a lottery ticket when it happens.

NOW I can continue my story.

So we get into Ihop to order our delicious breakfast and the conversation goes like this:

Dee: Oh I’m excited!

Me: Yes, I love…. Holy crap.

Dee: you love what now?

Me: look over there. That person is so amazingly hot that… wow. He’s like 50 ft tall though.

Dee: No way there is… oh. Well then.

Me: I just… pancakes.

Dee: That’s not even… Wow he’s more like 100 ft tall and… huh.

Unnamed child: WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT I AM HUNGRY!

Me: Shhhh. Let’s see if we can get it to come over!

*I start making little smooching noises*

Me: With hot people, you call them over like puppies, right?

Dee: LOOK AT YOUR DAMN MENU!

Me: I can’t… there’s too much, I don’t understand. Just… wow.

**unnamed child then puts the menu up in front of me to block my view**

Unnamed child: Ha. There, now look at what you want to eat!

Me: Pfft, joke’s on you. He’s too tall to be blocked by the menu.

Luckily I know what I wanted already, so I could just awkwardly stare while Dee and Unnamed child made their choices.

After the waitress took our orders, hot employee (we later determined he was probably the manager due to being in a black shirt vs a server’s uniform) disappeared.

I tried to take a picture of hot employee but he managed to avoid being seen. I did however, get a picture of unnamed child looking embarrassed at my attempts of trying to ninja a photo:

About ten minutes later, said hot employee showed up again. I tried to strategically get a camera angle to take a photo of Unnamed child while simultaneously getting the hot guy in the photo, but SOMEONE would not be compliant:

There is no way hot employee would be next to her spoon. She did not know how to play this game. Not at all.

Near the end, we had to give up. He’d gone missing again and we had to leave. As we were leaving, Unnamed child goes, “He’s right there, behind you!” (thanks for being so obvious, FYI) and I tried to take another picture of him, but this was the best we could do:

We determined that this person was simply far too attractive to be caught by camera, lest your eyes melt out of your sockets in awe.

**P.S. Unnamed child’s name is Chloe, in case you didn’t figure that out. If you didn’t figure it out on your own from the last photo, please stop reading my blog. God may love stupid people, but I don’t.**

My Cat is Fucked Up, Yo.

This is my cat. His name is Monkey. He has had his arm stuck thru the door like this for about 5 minutes. This is a common occurrence with him. I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me. 

Look at this face. Does that NOT look like an evil mastermind to you? Yeah, I thought so.

You Don’t Know It’s Eerie Until…

This is one of those things you don’t even think about, UNTIL YOU DO. You see it all the time, but you don’t usually notice it, UNTIL YOU DO. And then you notice it ALL THE FUCKING TIME, and it’s SCARY AS SHIT!

What the fudge ya talkin’ ‘bout, Karin?

Balloons. That’s right. Friggin’ BALLOONS. They are stalking you. Right now, I bet you they’re lurking, waiting for you. They’re biding their time until it’s the right moment to strike. Look out your window. I dare you. DO IT!

Did you do it? This is probably what you saw:

But really, this is what’s there:

That’s right. They’re watching you. THEY’RE FREAKING WATCHING YOU RIGHT NOW.

I never really thought they were creepy until a few years ago. One day at work we were discussing weird fears, and one of my co-workers said he was afraid of balloons. Of course, we all made fun of him. Who the hell is afraid of balloons? Clowns, yes, because they will kidnap you and eat your soul. But balloons??????

His defense was:

“Seriously, think about it. Have you ever walked somewhere and there’s a random balloon? You’re walking across an abandoned road and a lone balloon is just slowly bouncing down the road towards you… Or when you’re in the bathroom and you look up and there’s just this balloon floating there, up against the ceiling. How did you get there, balloon? WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

I brushed it off because I never saw balloons where they shouldn’t be. I’d always seen them where it was normal, you know, parks, fairs, birthday parties, etc. But then one day, it all changed. I was driving down a dark road late at night. There was just me, and a shitload of forest. No other cars. No houses. No nothing. And then something came across the light from my headlights:

A lone balloon lazily floated across the road. Huh, I thought to myself. That’s just odd, I wonder where…

AND THEN THE WHOLE CONVERSATION CAME BACK TO ME.

WHAT HAS BEEN SEEN CANNOT BE UNSEEN! The questions flooded my mind. WHERE DID YOU COME FROM, BALLOON! How the hell did you get thru all the trees? And then I realized I couldn’t see the balloon anymore….

WHERE THE FRICK DID IT GO!!!!

And then it started happening ALL THE TIME.

At the grocery store:

At the gym:

In a restaurant bathroom:

The balloons REALLY WERE EVERYWHERE. Everywhere there weren’t children, or any balloon related festivities. Everywhere I go, they’re there. Bouncing across the street, floating in a corner of some room, pressing their rubber skinned bodies against my windows. EVERYWHERE.

The only conclusion I can come up with is that they are planning to kill us all. KILL US ALL. They’re gathering forces and convincing people that we need them to celebrate crap like birthdays and new years’ and being the one millionth customer so that we produce more of them until one day they will be in mass forces everywhere.

Now that I’ve told you, you’ll see it too. BEWARE! BEWARE THE RANDOM BALLOONS.