Crustaceans, Costs, Coins, and Cats

Q: Why does it cost $181,757 per hour for Barack Obama to travel on Air Force One?

A: Maybe it's the shrimp they serve on the plane. Aside from that, I couldn't tell you. As perplexing as that is, what's even moreso is that you somehow know the amount. Like, right down to the dollar. I had a hard enough time with my homework tonight trying to figure out what coins make up $0.65. And you want me to tell you something about 181,757??? Like for real??...okay, I know you were dropped on your head.

But JFTR: With Obama's recent ten-day trip to India, Indonesia, South Korea and Japan (48 hours of flight time logged), US taxpayers would have to cough up $8.7 Million for Air Force One.

Why doesn't he just take a cab or something? Or stop eating shrimp. My dad eats shrimp and they are disGUSTING. I hope he's not paying that much to drive around in his precious Honda. He could very well be driving my education around...

Anyway, here's a random angry cat that coincidentally reminds me of mom when I drink her Pepsi without asking her...

Bomb's Away!

Q: Why is there a bomb in your hand?

A: Why, that's not a bomb, silly. It's a bowling ball-shaped flower pot filled with an orange Gerbera flower. It's actually a genus of ornamental plants from the sunflower family (Asteraceae). Gerbera species bear a large capitulum with striking, two-lipped ray florets in yellow, orange, white, pink or red colours. The capitulum, which has the appearance of a single flower, is actually composed of hundreds of individual flowers (wikipedia).

I am shocked that you would assume such a thing. Is there a bomb in your hand? You should know I am all about flowers. Didn't you notice my shirt? I suppose that looks like a bomb, too? For heaven's sake, run for cover when you see the next flower bed you walk by.

KABOOM!

Unidentified

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?

A: That's an easy one "anonymous". I am aspiring to be someone who leaves their name because it's polite. I can't imagine aspiring to be anonymous. Do you go to some kind of self help group for that? Well you should. See, I assumed that you don't belong to such a group because you'd at least say you are "unknown, but not by choice". Holy cow! Get a life! The antonym for anonymous, by the way, is "known", "named", or "identified". Next time, can you PLEASE identify yourself (i.e. name yourself) to make yourself known!

(insert your own hissy fit here)

Back to your question. I consider myself grown up already. So really, all that's left for me to do is purchase a town house in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic and collect sea shells everyday. Don't knock it until you try it, anonymous.

This guy lives in the Dominican. I'm going to tell my dad to use that deodorant:

I'm Like Noooo Way!

Q: Why can kids hardly wait to be teenagers?

A: I have no freakin' clue. Here's why. Just today my favorite cousin Lauren (she's 13) came into her house with 3 other friends. Herein lies their dialogue:

Door opens..."...and I was like no way, and she said, 'yeah-way', and I said, 'na-ah', and she was all like, 'totally', and I was like 'as if', and she said, 'yeah girl', and I said, "LOL", and she said, "I know, right!", and I said, 'whatever.' Imagine! I'm like "nooooooo way!"

How drole is that? If hormones make people talk in incomplete sentences, then I'll pass go and collect my $200, thanks. It took everything in me to not say, "You insignificant psychological pieces of inginuity, how can you all be so consecutive in your mental capacity???" GOOD GRIEF, CHARLIE BROWN!!!

Now, I really like Lauren, but it's like she's morphing into an alien that doesn't speak my lingo anymore. But anyway, tough shell here people.

I think most kids really want to be teenager just because it means you can watch PG-13 movies. But whatever the reason...for the sake of Pete, get those marbles out of your mouth!!

Watch the girl in this video for example...she might be my age, and she sounds just like Lauren and her friends - but I'll pay anyone $5 if they can tell me what she says:

Is Your Glass Half Full or Half Empty?

Q: Is the glass half full or half empty?

A: It really depends on what kind of antidepressants you are on. My dad says red wine has the same effect. Because the more wine you drink, the more full the "glass" is because your outlook on life is more positive. But mom says dad's got it all wrong - the more you drink, the more empty your glass gets, but dad says that's not a bad thing because there's always enough wine to fill the cup back up, and thus you can always have a positive outlook on life. But mom says when you have to keep filling your glass up, you must not have a very fulfilling life. But dad says wine helps fill up one's "cup" and now I don't know what the heck either of them are talking about. Come to think of it, mom doesn't drink wine at all. And god love her, she tries really really hard, but the 'ole "glass" could use a fill up sometimes, dad says...know what I'm sayin'?

Anyway, let me set the record straight for these 2 icky love birds. Few drinks are expected to take up half of the glass, really. If one is expecting a normal drink, one is expecting a full drink. If one sees the drink at half capacity and declares it to be half full, they are making the implicit admission that it is half more than what they expected or are currently imagining. In other words, half full is only half full when compared to a glass that is completely empty. This "completely empty" alternative is what one has in mind when they declare a drink to be half full.

Soooooo, the moral of the story is: just take an antidpressant and your glass will never be completely empty.

Hiccup.

Politicalamity

Q: What are politics?

A: Glad you asked. Here's my Googled interpretation of what's out there:

It has something to do with why skilled hockey players do not get picked for the teams they deserve to be on. It's also why some people pay more taxes than others. And I even read that some parents who work really hard all their life, see a job advertised but they don't get hired because somebody's friend who doesn't even have the qualifications or experience gets the job.

But I think there's good politics and bad politics. I think we need more good ones though. Take George Bush for instance - the poor guy totally got a bad rap. Like remember the time when the airplanes knocked those buildings down? He was dragged through the mud over that, but I think he handled it great. For instance, in case you think his priorities were mixed up, he was actually reading a book to KIDS at the time! What was he supposed to do, NOT finish the book?? Jeesh. I know some people think he's an annoying goat, but George was a hero that day. And what's more, to ease the fear of the American people, George told them to go SHOPPING! Now that's a president!

That's right, Goerge! Remember kids: if your country's being terrorized and people are losing their lives, run to the nearest Walmart, empty your pockets, and fill your closets with as many Barbies as you can. George rocks!!. They say you don't need material things, but Barbies are a matter of national morale, people!!! Ask not what your country can do for you...

Mom knows what I mean. When someone close to us died a while ago, she went shopping for a new outfit and bought us all new shoes. We salute you too, mom.

Anyway, back to politicians...no matter who you vote for in life, a politician always wins anyway.

TRIX are for KIDS

Q: Why are TRIX only for kids?

A: I smell a Mitchell. So, I'm going to assume an adult wrote this question.

Here is the secret behind why TRIX are only for kids:

Silly Rabbit.

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5-th Grade Creativity

Q: How did the universe begin?


A: Okay, you are not smarter than a 5th-grader. Any 5-th grader will tell you. Do you not know? Have you not heard? Once upon a time there was nothing. Then upon another time there was a universe. And many many people say that a big explosion caused it. But I can't quite remember what blew up in the first place. But many others say that god, who is apparently as big as it, made it. If he's that big, maybe he should try Weight Watchers. But who made him? Isn't he like a fuel cell or a Duracell battery? Doesn't everything have to have a power source? I don't know. But I bet he has a cool grip like Darth Vader.

Anyway, my personal feeling on the universe is that I made it and it revolves around me. I base all my decisions on how other people's decisions will affect me. But there's somebody worse than me because my brother thinks he's the universe itself. I asked him a second ago how he got here and he said, "neeeeeeerrrrrrrrr bajooooooooom wala wala pink pajamas". Brilliant. He was obviously avoiding a sensitive topic. That, or he's trying to brainwash me, or he's an idiot. You decide.

Back to the universe. The three things I do know is that it's well organized like me, it demands respect like me, and only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the the universe. Four things actually, dad thinks he's cool because he knows what a fuel cell is.

Angry Customers

Q: Describe good restaurant service.

A: What is this? A test? This feels more like homework than gratifying amusement. You ask me a question. They always start with words like why, how, who, and so on. "Describe" sounds more like, "In 1,000 words or less...."

But since we're on the topic of good service...sheesh. Anyway,essentially, the difference between good service and bad service is usually about 15 bucks, really cranky parents, and your children's future. Let me pick on the front line for a minute. Waitresses can either ruin the whole event or keep you coming back week after week. For instance, if she comes to your table talking to you like she just rose from the grave, I'm sure the meal will be just as tasty. When that happens, I always want to ask her if she had a good childhood. If, at this point (in your mind), you don't stick a fork in her mouth, you should give her the benefit of the doubt, because maybe she just didn't put her makeup on or something.

Stage 2: the order. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S SACRED AND BARBIE-ISH, CAN YOU JUST GET IT RIGHT??? Why do they mess it up? It's a 4x4 pad of paper, one blue pen, and a zombie brain. What's so hard about scrambled eggs, white toast, and chocolate milk? BIG difference between chocolate milk and my brother's disgusting orange juice. And I want my scrambled eggs fluffy...not flat and hard, and my toast NOT burnt around the edges.

Stage 3: the wait. When my father's like a petrified tree, my mother has a beard, and my brothers are all gone off to college..seomthing's wrong here. Where is the food??? There are cob webs between the tables for pete's sake. And when you see other people cheating time having come, eaten, and left, during your wait, it makes your blood boil. How many STUPID games of hangman can my father play anyway?

Stage 4: the coffee person. You know...those people who only ever say, "More coffee?" For some reason, some people just get the job - they did not go to GRAD school for this - it's obvious!! Let me spell it out for you: timing is everything. When my father's eyeballs are floating and my mother's sentences all start with, "Un-frigging-believable...", you MIGHT be pouring too much coffee. Let my mother get a word in edge-wise or we'll all be dealing with fallout until Christmas. All she wants to do is talk about jewelery to dad, but do you think she "More Coffee?" ... AHHHHHHH. SAY "NO" DAD. If you want to show your wife you love her, just say no.

Stage 5: the bill. The train has officially gone off the tracks. There's no way this chick is paying for any of this.

Zombies and Old Ladies

Q: Do you like waiting in lineups?

A: Okay, here's the situation. I don't like waiting anywhere, anytime. I'm the carbon copy of my mother. If something's not happening like yesterday then I'm like soooo hurry up this is ridiculous. You should see me and mom when my brother's bus is coming up the street and they're all walking around like zombies with one sock on, one off, and they can't find their lunches or kit bags. I can hardly stand it; I have to say SOMETHING. It's usually like, "stop walking around like zombies and get into the land of the living."

Oh yeah...back to lineups. Anyway, the one place I hate waiting is at a bank lineup. Nobody says a word; there's like this weird silence and for some reason dad's always saying, "stop walking circles around me; stop holding onto my pant legs - they're twisting all up; shhhhhhhhhhhhh." What's his problem??? It's not like we're trying to look inconspicuous. Or are we? I don't know. Come to think of it...everyone's doing the same don't-look-at-each-other thing. I don't know what's so interesting about the ceiling and floor.....GEEZ. But the tellers on the other hand are in a league of their own. I notice that they stare right into dad's eyes when they talk to him. There's one lady there that has like lasers in her eyes I think. And she acts really funny after she asks a question...she looks at the monitor like it has 6 heads and keeps staring blankly at it. That makes everyone look around even MORE. It's almost as if she will ground them if she catches someone looking at her - like she's the only one allowed to look at people. What gives???

Oh yeah, the other thing I don't like about bank lines is old ladies. They always get to be seated when they do their banking. I think they walk slow on purpose. Why are they so special anyway? I'm taking a cane the next time we go there. I HATE waiting in lineups. And I don't even know what  inconspicuous means, dad made me use it.

Alien Speak

Q : Is there life on other planets?

A: Ummm, is there a brain in your head? You're asking me if there's life on other planets?! Gee, I don't know so-and-so...is there life on your planet? ;)

But really...I have never met someone from another planet, unless I include my wierdo brothers; sometimes they remind me of aliens. For that matter, if aliens did exist they would have varying degrees of strangeness, because my older brother is definitely from whatever planet the strangest ones are from. Dad is forever telling him to stop speaking alien before, during, and after sitting down at the dinner table. He just makes these wierd noises with all the holes in his head. 'Drives dad nuts! It's like he's in a trance or something and can't help babbling on about important alien matters.

I see tons of movies with UFOs and Halloween costumes depicting aliens, but in case you haven't noticed, they're either on television or they're plastic. Last time I checked, people can't jump into TVs and vice versa. Although I'd like to see select individuals try :)

Anyway, I'm a bit of a realist, so the next time you see an alien, tell them they're not real becasue I can't see them. But don't hurt their feelings...I hear they can change your brain just by talking to you.

Wait a second...are my teachers aliens??

The Big One

Q: Why do people die?

A: Now who would write such a question to a 5 year old? Especially after the toilet seat question before it! Is there anything in between urine and death? Apparently not! Not according to my mother anyway if you do pee on the toilet seat. I digress.

But since I am a sage, let me disclose the facts of life (or death in this case):

I think it has something to do with the centrifugal force of the earth. Short of that, probably because we want to. I mean, do you want to be laying on a bed when you're 276 years old? Albeit, if mom was 276, she probably wouldn't get mad at my brothers then if they peed on the seat then. But she would if dad did it I bet, because he'd have no excuse if he was 276, when his sons would only be 250, 249, and 244 respectively. Anyway, we get old...but that's a whole other question.

I suppose we'll get a fresh start in Barbie Heaven though, so you hang in there. Until then, get your self a Barbie here on earth...kind of gets you through these existential moments in life, you know?

If you're still wondering why we die, ask somebody else, I don't have a clue.

Toilet Seats

Q: Why do boys sometimes pee on the seat?

A: Sorry, mankind cannot answer that one. All attempts to do so are purely conjecture. No one knows. But MAN does it ever make my mom angry. Like she grows fangs and long fingernails and stuff.

Next?

Goofy Big Brothers

Q: What's the biggest problem for you when you have these two goofy big brothers?

A: Picture an old-school nun sitting at the front of the class, after having scolded the entire class for something only 1 person did, but the 1 person failed to tell the truth when questioned by the teacher. The nun is livid. You can cut the tension in the air and nobody is saying a word. Then in walks Buzz Light Year from Toy Story, making all these ridiculous movements and noises and all the children start laughing their heads off. Can you imagine what's going on in the nuns head at this point?


That's pretty much how I feel all the time with my goofy big brothers.

My Personality, Not Yours

Q: Alyssa, where do you get your personality?

A: You have got to be kidding me. What??? Like you got your's somewhere? I suppose you picked it up at Target? Let me guess...right behind the automotive isle: "Lame-Os". My personality is mine. I've always had it. Nobody gave it to me; I didn't win it in a contest; It did not come out of a cereal box. The day I was born, my personality happened. And thanks be to my maker that it hasn't changed. Can you imagine me without my personality? I'd be like......YOU! Ewwwww.

If you're somehow wanting to copy me, forget it. I'm 1 in 6,000,000,000. I'm like the living lottery. You can't fill these shoes - NOPE. But if you threw a Barbie my way, I'd at least let you think you were important to me somehow. But only for a split second, get real. You'd have to throw in a Barbie house for that matter. Are you listening Mattel?????

Anyway, enough of this. I think somebody wants my autograph or something.

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Oatmeal and Dead Barbies

Q: What made you decide to take up blogging again after your break?

A: First of all, I went on a hiatus. I do not take breaks - they are lame, and you don't get paid for them. It was more like a recess. Actually, Wikipedia says a hiatus is a recess. So why am I doing this again? I don't know...why is winter cold? Nobody knows. This is a really hard question come to think of it...it's like asking me why glue doesn't stick to the inside of a bottle.

I guess I started doing this again because Halloween is over. There's nothing else to do now. I'm sure if I went to someone's house with a pillow case anytime after October 31st, dressed like a dead Barbie, I'd get a few looks. What would you do? Anyway, besides, if I don't use my creative supernatural brain, it would turn to oatmeal dad says. I would guess there is alot of porridge in my 3 brother's heads if that's the case. By the way, Tim Hortons has oatmeal now for $1.99.

Anyway, whatever.

AL

The Middle East

Q: What do you think of the situation in the middle east?

A: The situation in the middle east is quite boring really. It's right in the middle of the east. The east is boring enough, but the middle of it is so yesterday. How would you like to be there? Say bye bye to your ice-cream, it's so hot. But I hear there is lots of gun fighting there and bombs and stuff, which I don't really perk up about - but my 13 year old brother does. He wears funny hats and drags nerf guns around the house pretending to be those guys that are always on the news. I saw dad watching the news one day and one of those guys went in a bus full of people and it exploded. Cool trick, eh? The news people really know what they're doing.

Then there are the oil guys over there. Man they have so much oil and money...imagine the Barbie houses their kids have. I bet they have elevators in them. I'd like to visit there some day just for that reason. But just a minute ago I asked my dad to take me someday and he said NO. He didn't tell me why, but I think it's because he thinks the bus thing is real...he's weird like that. But he did say he'd let my brother Evan go. That is not fair at all. But to be fair to Evan, he does really like riding on the bus, and dad knows that (he's always thinking isn't he?).

Anyway, enough about the middle east. Ask me something exciting. By the way, it's a region that encompasses southwestern Asia and Egypt, in case you didn't know. BORING.

AL