I Love Funny Page Verification Codes

So this week, I have been spending a good chunk of my time moving.  I have decided that in this world of awesome, there aren’t really that many things that I think suck.  Pickled beets, AIDS, Cancer, Joe Buck, Tim McCarver, Tony Kornheiser’s MNF career, clowns, the New York Yankees and the Manning sisters all suck.  Moving is ranked right below AIDS, cancer and the Yankees as far as sucking, but above all other things in life.   Since I can’t cure the suckage of AIDS, cancer or the Yankees (because all three will suck forever), moving might be the thing I hate most in my every day, pertainent life.

So, with this move that I have been making, came the wonderful world of Papa and Mama Moody selling their house.  While I am a little sad that the house I grew up in won’t be the house I go to when I go back to MA, I’m happy that my mom and dad no longer have to worry about paying a mortgage on it, which means what?  My inheritance won’t be wasted on a house no one lives in.  Instead, it will be wasted on trips my parents make to Italy, Hawaii and other such places.  Though, they did decide that I would get a good chunk of their sweet furniture.  You know you’ve made it in life when you can trade in your crappy laminated particle board for legit maple tables and chairs.

So, since I’m not forcing my friends to move all the stuff I won’t need, I have been “lucky” enough to have to sell some things on craigslist.  A few years ago, when you’d sell something on craiglists, you’d list it, verify it, you’re done.  But now, with the invention of viruses and hackers, most sites where you purchase something or post something, you have to enter a verification code.  We are all familiar with this process.  You get a boring letter-number combo, just in time for Ticketbastard to put you on the lawn for 55 dollars, despite you timing it exactly.  Yeah.

So, craigslist is no different with these codes.  But, for some reason, in the past couple days, I have had two really funny word combinations pop up.  I have no clue why, but I thought I’d share them here.

Is someone trying to tell me something with this?  When I got this one after posting a combined listing for all my furniture, I giggled like crazy.  Uhhhh….nice.

And this one might be my favorite of all time:

This is probably the best advice that I’ve received from anyone or anything. Ever.  It’s great in a general sense that everyone should guard their orifices, but also you should when posting or buying anything on craigslist.  One does not want to sell their sofa and have the intent on getting raped. 

Thumbs up, craigslist for your warnings and your advice.  I salute you.

It’s JohnS Hopkins, People. Damn!

First, I’m sorry I have been extremely slacking with updating this thing for the past couple months.  It’s just been a crazy time between the snow and planning for the upcoming months, I’ve been busy.  Also, not having an internet connection at home is greatly hindering my ability to post random updates of janky people in/around the Baltimore area.

Anyways, I thought that this entry could sort of just go over a small pet peeve of mine; one that many of you may not know about.  I don’t have many pet peeves, outside of bad drivers, stupid people, the entire New York Yankees roster, ketchup-haters and the Manning sisters.  I try to be as chill as I can and my frustrations usually come from a case-by-case situation.  Though, recently, I have discovered that a HUGE pet peeve of mine are people who refer to Johns Hopkins as John Hopkins.

You probably don’t think that it’s a huge deal, but when you attend and work at one of the best medical institutions in the country, and perhaps the world, you have a little Hopkins pride and wonder why it is so hard for people to put that “s” on the end of that “John”.   It was a guy’s name, people!  RESPECT.

I know what you’re thinking.  Now, Katie, how often can that REALLY happen?  Plus, people in Baltimore or from other medical institutions MUST get it right, so you probably only get that from out-of-towners or people who aren’t very smart, right?  Wrong.

Exhibit A: Getting a letter from another medical institution. 

What the hell is wrong with people?  When you are writing a letter, asking one of the doctors here to give a recommendation to a student at your institution, spell the freaking name of our institution correctly.  Honestly.   And don’t say it’s because you aren’t in/around Baltimore, either.  You’re a medical center, and you don’t know Johns Hopkins?  Wow

Exhibit B: The local grocery store looking for donations.  No, I will not be giving money to you, since you cannot spell.  Maybe you should take that money and put it towards literacy levels amongst your employees.  *sigh*

Finally, exhibit C: Old FedEx slips from within my very own department.  You know that someone has to be a special breed of moron when they themselves are sending out FedEx slips that have the instiution for which they work spelled incorrectly. I can’t imagine why this person no longer works here….

So please, kids, spell it correctly.  Or, I’ll post on the blog how dumb you are and why I shouldn’t be friends with you any more.

Like I Needed More Reasons to Hate New York

In case any of you missed it, I generally hate New York.  Not the state, mind you, or the actual city of New York itself.  I have been to the big apple many times and have loved every second of the city itself.  My main source of hatred for NYC is more/less because of the sports fans that life there.  Now, I know what you’re thinking.  Katie, you’re the most annoying Boston sports fan on the planet.  You hate anyone who wears pin stripes and you always point out to them that the Yankees suck.  You hate the Manning sisters.  You start every sports debate with a “true or false” question which will inevitably contain a massive PWN for the other person.  You even sign onto NFL.com on Monday mornings to send some seemingly innocent defensive linemen that sacks Tommy the day before hate emails.   Yeah, and your point is?

Anyways, this past week, I made the obvious trek up to MA to visit my family for the joyous holiday of Christmas.  I have a new strategy of leaving Maryland around 7:00 pm, so that by the time I hit the NJ Pike, it’s about 8:30 and NY somewhere between 10:30 and 11:00.  Because, hey, who is going to be on the George Washington Bridge at 11:00 pm on a Tuesday?

Everyone.  This was my view for an entire hour, over which I covered about 2 miles:

Really people?  REALLY???
For anyone who has never driven the lovely I-95 corridor up the eastern coast of the United States, it pretty much works like this:  You usually have 3 or 4 lanes in the areas that are outside each major city, where the speed limit averages 65 (or, 80 if you’re Elmo.  I can’t help it, that Subaru likes hauling an insane amount of ass).  Then, as you approach each city, the speed limit will drop to 55, and your 4-lane highway inevitably becomes 2 or 1, depending on whether or not there is construction going on.  Since no one works for crap around here, there is almost ALWAYS the same construction going on in every single city.  I have been going up/down 95 for the past DECADE and just in the past year or so is there FINALLY no construction going on in Delaware.  Took them about 8.5 years to do construction on 8 whopping miles of highway.  Yeah.  So,  95 pretty much runs THROUGH each major coastal city as well, and starting in Baltimore, there are toll booths everywhere.  I think the budgets in MD, DE, NJ and NY are balanced by how hardcore they can financially rape their motorists.  It costs me about 30 bucks to drive the 398 miles from Towson, MD to Baldwinville, MA, and I don’t pay any tolls for the last 120 of those miles.  Yeah.  Actual Break-down:

Toll Leaving MD: 5 Dollars
Toll Entering DE: 4 Dollars
To Use the New Jersey Turnpike: 10 Dollars
George Washington Bridge: 8 Dollars
Toll Leaving NY: 1.75 Dollars
Cost of Financial Rape: $28.75

NYC is no exception to this toll booth rule and it’s high amount of fails.

You’ll be driving along 95 north going 65 and then BAM!  Just as you exit Maryland, your 4-lanes turns into a toll booth where the IQ is obviously going to drop exponentially from about an average of 90 to 55.  It’s at this point, when people are posed with a choice as to which lane to use, where there is mass chaos, slamming of brakes, and an unavoidalbe back up of no less than 2 miles.

So, NYC, being a city of about what? 8 billion people? is the perfect example of how you shouldn’t pick the lowest bidder in terms of civil engineering and city highway planners.  You’ve just hauled ass up 126 miles of New Jersey Turnpike, 4 lanes of awesome where everyone is doing about 78.7 mph, and then the highway splits into “upper level” of the bridge or “lower level”.  Of course, this is not immediate.  It queues you up about 5 miles out, causing the said “choice” that people have to make.  The upper level is usually reserved for trucks, busses and large vans, but any smart driver knows that you always do the truck lane/level because statistically, there are fewer accidents.

So me, being the experienced 95-er, because I take this trip 1/2 a dozen times a year, takes the left to the upper level.  Bad call, Katie.  Without warning, stopped.  Dead stopped for about 10 minutes.   Accident?  Nope.  Bridge-jumper?  Nope.   Why?  The toll booth.

The toll booth that sits right before the George Washington Bridge is quite the engineering fail.  You have 3 lanes that go into the bridge and then you go around a sharp turn to the left and BAM!  there you are at the toll booth area, which has 3 EZ-Pass lanes on the far left and 8 or so lanes for cash/everyone else.  So, what happens, is all the cash lanes get backed up because people inevitably give a 100 dollar bill for an 8 dollar toll and the EZ Pass people are not able to get over to the EZ Pass lanes.  Then, you have cars, busses and trucks FLYING out of the toll booth back onto three VERY skinny lanes to go over the bridge.

I want to punch the person who was the brain surgeon behind that operation right in the face.

Then, to add to the snarky NY attitude, we get this as you exit the toll booths, but right as you get onto the bridge.

Even the sign itself is a fail.

Thanks for the tip, a-holes.

F this city.

Things I do NOT want for Christmas

Since we are currently knee-deep into the holiday season, I seem to have been volunteered for about 50 different Yankee swaps and Secret Santas with friends, coworkers and family members.  I actually like this tradition because it can either be totally hilarious or just a total all-out trainwreck.

So, I went into my favorite store ever, TJ Maxx, last night to find a Yankee Swap item for my work event tomorrow, and I couldn’t help but notice the plethora of odd, weird, and outright horrible things they had in their holiday section. 

I give you examples of things I better not get this year from St. Nick.

You know how I say one of my top fears is clowns?  I kind of lied.  I also hate really creepy dolls that look like they would totally come alive and go for your juggular in your sleep.  What kind of demented toy maker thought that this was a good idea?  This looks like some kind of sadistic nightmare in the form of something that should be cute but just looks like that kid in high school you were nice to just because he would be the one to bring a gun to school.  Do not want.

What in the…?  What kind of message is this so-called gift supposed to send?  I am really confused because this isn’t just a sign, it’s actually the front of a tray-like thing, but it has something to hang it.  Are you supposed to put your money in there?  Your virginity?  Holy crap.  If someone gave this to me, I might throw it back at them and wonder what kind of 2-dollar hooker they think I am.

Okay, so this isn’t a bad present, I just got a huge kick out of it.  The lady that was in the aisle with me as I was giggling and taking the picture probably thought I was mentally challenged.  I’m tempted to go back and buy this for my gram, because she’d inevitably have something ridiculously hilarious to say about it.

I couldn’t find a Chia Pet, but one would have definitely made the cut on this list…..

I Hate Spandex, but I’m Happy the Lions Won

So I’m leaving work yesterday at my usual time of 4:30 or so, and I head into the garage to pay for my ticket.  When you work at a hospital such as Johns Hopkins, you’re bound to see things that you wouldn’t normally see.  People with knives jammed in their faces.  Someone missing a leg.  Even the random drunk guy having an episode with the valet dude outside the Outpatient Center isn’t uncommon.  I generally don’t notice these things any more, but there is one monstrosity I can’t help but notice:  people who should NOT be wearing spandex.

Let me just preface this by saying that I am a HUGE fan of self-confidence.  There is NOTHING wrong with someone being a bigger size.  I’m no size 0 (hell, I’m so stoked that I FINALLY have a dress and a pair of jeans that are a size 8 that fit me), so I really don’t go out of my way to criticize what other people wear.  Unless, of course, it is inflicting pain on me and practically making my eyes bleed.   Which brings us to this:

Why?  Seriously, WHY?  Do people just not have mirrors or do they not care what they are doing to others?  I find myself standing in front of a full-length mirror, practically with stadium lights on me pointing out every flaw before I leave the house.  This isn’t self-confidence, this is proof that some people just hate the world so much that they have to put everyone else in pain.  AUGH.

I mean, I took this picture and promptly texted it to my friend, Nick, who always has something quick-witted to say about anything like this.  Nick generally only takes a few minutes to respond to my texts, but I did not hear back from him at all.  I’m assuming he may be dead because he died of shock or from bleeding when he gauged his eyes out.

In other random news, the Detroit Lions won their second game on Sunday against the Cleveland Browns.  My good friend, Greg, (who tries to demand that I call him Dr. Greg, but I just end up calling him Dr. Faggot/Dr. Douchebag) is from the Detroit area, and was trying to figure out the best way to express the TWO wins.

We decided that the “hook-em” horns was the best non-traditional way.  He displays it here, while sitting at the bar.

He’s just hoping this doesn’t mean they actually start winning and lose their guaranteed top-5 draft pick in 2010.

Baltimore Can be Pretty…If You Can’t See Anything

I have lived in Baltimore for about a decade now, and I’m finally starting to notice its charm at random times during the day.

I was driving to the gym yesterday, through Fells Point, and I noticed that the sky made South Broadway seem like something out of a movie.  So, I took a picture.

Though, I think that this picture can really  tie the whole “pretty” scenery together with the fact that the APEX theater is clearly seen on the right.  This, of course, being the premier triple X theater, right in the heart of Fells Point.

Being Drunk Apparently Makes McDonald’s A Nutritious and Smart Food Choice

So this past Saturday, I got together with Sarah, and met her two good friends, Scott and Jill.   We all seem to be going through this “relationships suck” phase, where we assume that we will all die alone in our house with our 48 cats and no children.

Joking aside, Jill, Scott, Sarah and myself decided to take the “no, really, we are 18″ route and head out to the town known as Towson, Maryland.  What is Towson, you ask?  Oh, I’ll tell you.

Towson is located about 5 miles northeast of Baltimore city.  It is where Elaine Benes of Seinfeld is from, and the only main reason why there’s anything to do here is because of Towson University.  Thusly, the center of Towson has a really large mall (though nothing compared to MOA in Minneapolis), a half dozen bars, some great restaurants, and office buildings.  The only draw-back is that the average age there is, oh, I dunno, 19, as it is a huge college town and it caters exclusively to those not born in the 80s.

But, the four of us were determined to go out and have fun, and we did just that.  We pretty much did a bar crawl through the town and then around 1:00 am, we were starving.

Which brings me to my next point: The Wendy’s on York Road SUCKS.  We pulled into the drive-through, and the friendly voice asked us if we wanted to try a combo.  And that was the end of it.  Upon further inspection, Wendy’s closes at 1:00, which is BS anyways, because what kind of “late night” is 1:00?  Honestly.

So, we had to resort to going to the only shady-as-hell McDonald’s right by Sarah’s house.  And this is where my blog topic comes in.

Why is it, when I’m completely sober and of sound mind, would never even think of going to McDonald’s for a snack due to the nasty-high level of calories and junk in the food, but when copious amounts of booze are involved, a 10-piece McNugget is the best McIdea I have ever heard of?  Also, if I am going through a drive-through stone sober, I am polite and sweet and smiling, but after chugging mojitos and japanese beer, I suddenly become the Will Ferrell quote box, yelling “PANDA WATCH” and “YALLOHNSAYTHAT!!” into the shady speaker at the poor employee?

These are questions I want answered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Best meal ever.  Until the next day, when I have to get on a treadmill for 3 hours.

Have Yourself a Nerdy Little Christmas

I love bargain shopping.  Nothing better than spending a rainy Saturday afternoon poking through the endless racks at places like TJ Maxx, Marshall’s or Ross.   These stores are the reason why I wear Lucky Brand and 7 Jeans…not to mention the 16 out of 32 NFL jerseys that I have.

Anyways, in addition to finding legit clothing for 75% off, these stores have AMAZING house goods sections.  I have calphalon pans because of these stores, and you can always find awesome nick-nacks or drink mixers.  Anything from funky plates to funny pepper grinders can be found here.  Of course, this includes an endless supply of nerdy stuff.

I’ll admit, I’m a fan of Star Wars.  The original 3 movies remind me of being little and pretending to fly the Millenium Falcon when I’d play make-believe with my dad.  Cool flicks, total classics.   For example, check out my sweet-ass Mr. Potato Head known as DARTH TATER:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorry the picture is a little dark, but you get the idea.  I love Darth Tater.  He rules.  Along with funny face, he guards my stuff in my room against evil-doers.

So I’m in TJ Maxx the other day, and I come across this gem. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh yes.  It’s a Star Wars Holiday Nutcracker.  Since I can’t really see inside the box because it’s wicked dark, I laugh my ass off for about 3 minutes and then decide to open the box and take a picture of what’s inside.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH
I’ll take “Best thing to have in your house that will prevent you from ever having a girlfriend for 500″, Alex.  If this thing wasn’t 25 bucks, I would have totally bought it and used it as some kind of white elephant thing at Christmas time.  Too bad my dad would probably go Bat-S crazy for it, and since my mom is a total fan of nutcrackers (seriously, it’s a tie between nutcrackers and snowmen with that lady), she’d probably be cool with him having this gold-mine of a conversation piece sit on display at Christmas.

Might have to go back just to get it.  Why do I always find this random crap when I’m out and about? 

Hey, nerds like walnuts, too, I guess.

I Love Seeing Things that Remind me of my Friends

I love it when I’m out in public and I see something or something happens that totally reminds me of a good friend.  Like the dude who was blasting “Tripping Billies” from his Audi A4, who had a Seahawks border around his “JANKY” (literally, it said “JANKY”) Washington license plate, right B?

Anyways, it seems like I’m always seeing stuff when I’m out that will make me think of a friend.  Since I’m still stuck with this god-awful-can’t-hold-a-charge-worth-crap-POS-LG-flip-phone-with-only-redeeming-quality-being-a-camera phone, at least I’m able to capture said photos and share them with my friends.

I had to post a few here, just to show how awesome the phenomenon is.

1. Texas Pete Hot Sauce

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was in Minny a couple weeks ago, Rissa talked constantly about Texas Pete Hot Sauce.  So, I saw it in a grocery store a couple days later and had to acknowledge that I not only found it, but that I’d be mailing some to her ASAP.  I should try it, too….hmmm….

2. Oregon BOOTS!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I seriously would have bought these if they hadn’t been 2 sizes too big.  I was walking through Marshall’s yesterday, looking for a new pair of dress boots, and lo and behold: Jesse’s team in the form of loud footwear stood before me!  I think I actually screamed out “OREGON!!!” when I saw them, too.  I searched the whole place high and low for a pair that was closer to my size and I even asked the shoe-department lady if there were any others in the back, but no luck.  The people around me must have thought I was crazy.  Seriously…so awesome.

 

I love anything that reminds me of my friends.

Avoid Sweet Tea Vodka at all Costs

I like things that taste good.  Good steak, good beer, good desserts….love it all.  I put ketchup on pretty much anything and everything because it tastes really good (desserts excluded, of course). 

Last weekend, I ventured out to Minneapolis for the first time in my life to hang out with some wicked awesome friends of mine.  (There will be a separate entry to chronicle that trip, of course.)  On Saturday night, Rissa, Chad and myself were at the local UMinn booze depot deciding on what to enjoy that evening.  After mulling it over, we decided on two cases of Coors Light and the Piece De Resistence: Burnett’s Sweet Tea Vodka.

This stuff is brilliant.  It’s just as potent as regular vodka, but it literally tastes like sweet iced tea.  Very happy with our decision, we bought the bottle, took it home, and proceeded to come damn near close to killing it between the three of us.

The evidence speaks for itself.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remember: you booze, you lose, kids.