Albert Einstien once said (according to a Google search) that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over expecting different results.  He was obviously just fucking around with us. What an asshole, right? Everyone knows that one must do something over and over again in order to get better at it. That is called practicing. I think insanity is when you try something once or maybe a few times and it doesn’t instantly go your way or for some reason you feel uncomfortable so then you say “Oh fuck THIS shit” and never look back. Now that is insanity. It isn’t about comfort. Right? Seriously though, practice and good support is important.

John Wooden was an American basketball player and coach (according to a Google search and some previous “team building exercises” back when I worked a desk job)  who once said something about the most important key to achieving great success is to decide upon your goal, launch, get started, take action, move, something something something. I’ve never met him in person or anything, but I am just going to guess that when he said that he didn’t mean it literally, like take that approach with every idea or every situation in life. I mean, ok, maybe he did mean it literally at that time, but like, take it with a grain of salt depending on your personal situation. I’d bet that John Wooden probably said a bunch of other stuff prior to that statement that directly related to whatever he was talking about at that exact moment in time. I think that’s why I get so annoyed when I see those plaques up with sayings on them all over the place, like how are these helpful? For example, apparently Ghandi once said something like “The future depends on what we do in the present”. Yes Ghandi, I fucking realize that. Are you joking!? How is that inspiring!? You’ve literally given me no useable information!!

Anyway, I forgot what I was talking about, but here’s to the new year and a fresh, clean slate to start off making all the same mistakes on again, or perhaps 2011 will be a great year.

Several years ago I met this guy at a bar when I was out with my friends. He was completely normal and charming and cute. I mean he walked right up to me and started talking about some really funny stuff. That literally never happens to me, so at the end of the night I gave him my number without even a second thought. Well, a week or so went by (ok, it was 10 days) and I never heard from him. I wasn’t completely surprised; it really did seem too good to be true. That’s why I was so excited the afternoon I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize, and it turned out to be him. We ended up talking for awhile and even met up a few days later. We went out a couple of times and had a really good time. One Saturday night, he invited me out to a friend’s birthday party where we proceeded to get blind drunk. Ok, I proceeded to get blind drunk (I didn’t know anyone, what was I supposed to do). At the end of the night he took my keys and told me to just come home with him. I figured what the hell, I hadn’t been to his place yet.

We pulled up and it was literally a mansion.

“Holy shit Paul! What do you do for a living again?”

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just get inside and go to bed. You are ridiculous right now.”

We walked in.

“OH MY GOD! Your home is BEAUTIFUL! Are you serious!?”

“SHHHHHHHH! Keep your voice down you are going to wake the dogs!”

We went upstairs to his room and I immediately passed out. I dreamed of throwing up in a gold plated toilet the next morning surrounded by dishes of caviar, then crawling down the stairs to rest in a red velvet throne next to Paul surrounded by six German Shepherds.

The next thing I remember is waking up with an incredible headache. Bright sunlight was blasting me in the face through the skylight directly above my head.

Skylights? This guy is seriously a baller, what the fuck? He’s white and he has a beard, so I know he’s not a rapper. His friends are all like band guys, and he is always wearing assorted concert tee-shirts… maybe he’s like a record executive or something…

I slowly sat up and looked around the room. There were two Southpark posters on the wall, a wooden shelf on the wall with a bunch of CD’s. To my left was a gigantic cage. A weasel poked it’s head out of a pile of woodchips blinked at me and crawled back out of site.

God what is up with this guy? He has this serious house and he picks the smallest room and decks it out High School circa 1998 to sleep in? Is he messing with me? Is this just a funny guest room? I mean he is obviously loaded, he can do whatever he wants. How eccentric, it’s kind of…

That’s when I heard it.

“PAUL. PAUL? PAUL!?”

What the fuck is that?

“PAUL!! BREAKFAST IS READY! COME DOWN!!”

“Paul! Wake up, is that your butler!? Do you have an intercom system and you have butlers that have prepared you a meal? Is this really happening right now?”

Paul reached behind me to the intercom console on his bedside table and pressed a button.

“I’ll be right down Mom.”

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

“Are you fucking joking!? I can’t go downstairs and have breakfast with your family! I honestly thought this was your house! I just fucking met you! My shirt is still soaked in beer, I smell like a bar bathroom! Do you actually have a pet weasel!? Am I dreaming right now!? Is there a fire escape!? Can I please… God, PLEASE crawl out your window and go home. You gotta take me home!”

“Are you done?”

I took a deep breath and looked down at Transformers bed sheets.

“Here, put this on.” He threw a Slayer t-shirt at me.

“My sister lives here too… and my older sister and brother-in-law are in town. Also, the neighbors come by every Sunday for brunch, so you will meet them too.”

So I put on the Slayer t-shirt and had a very nice brunch with the entire extended family and next door neighbors of the man-child I had been dating for only a week and a half.

Just another awkward true story from the dating life of your’s truly…

Oh man, I totally remembered. Weird.

#5. FLEXPETZ – http://www.flexpetz.com

Do you long for a canine companion but you don’t want to have to deal with all the feeding, walking,  and just overall responsibility that usually goes hand in hand with dog ownership? Fuck it! Just rent one by the hour instead. It works with cars, it even works with people… why not dogs?

#4. Pee & Poo – http://www.peeandpoo.com/

It’s the 2010’s. No one has time to sit down and read ‘Everyone Poops’ to their kid anymore. Thank God a company in Sweden thought to manufacture Children’s apparel and plush toys featuring these most basic of bodily functions. Cheap push-peg-together furniture is not all our friendly neighbors from the north should be known for. Plus the flash animation on their website is the shit. Literally. Get it?

#3. Animal Shirts – http://www.animalshirts.net/

This shark beats three wolves howling at a moon. Quick. Everyone buy this shirt. Comment too.

#2. National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance – http://www.naafaonline.com/

Before I say anything I’d just like to go on record saying I am all for civil rights. I was just a little disturbed to learn that they are currently holding a raffle in which the winners will win an all-inclusive week-long Hawaiian beach getaway. I mean comeon, that’s just wrong.

#1. WTF Should I Do With My Life? – http://wtfshouldidowithmylife.com/

I’m sure you’ve already seen this on like Mashable, but I had to include it. It’s like my prayers were totally fucking answered! OMG!!

So there. That was this week’s picks of the internet.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

This story comes from college.

So, I had just started dating this guy Mark. We had a lot of mutual friends, he was really tall, cute and sarcastic, a little socially awkward, but basically perfect for me. Anyway, about two weeks into our relationship we had gone out with a big group for our friend Nick’s birthday. I had about 37 double long islands and ended up in Mark’s twin bed that night where we did unspeakable things to each other all night long. Anyway, the next morning my cell phone rang right next to my head from his bedside table.

“Turn it off.” Mark mumbled

“Hello?” I answered. “What? Hello?”

“Are you guys alive?” It was none other than the birthday boy himself.

“How are you calling me right now? Is it still the morning?” I asked, my voice filled with confusion.

“Yeah I know. I’m not even that hung over.” Nick replied.

“That is so not like you, did you have a fun birthday? Are you OK? Why are you calling me right now?” I asked, the concern beginning to mount.

“Well, after we left the bar Steve noticed he was missing his hat. You know, the wool one, with the flaps?” Nick explained.

“The Miller Genuine Draft one?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He answered.

“I fucking love that hat.” I replied to his answer of my question.

“Well, naturally he came to the conclusion that one of the guys back in the bar had stolen it.” Nick explained.

“That makes sense.” I stated.

“Totally. Well, as we were walking past the other side of the bar, Steve was certain he saw the guy who stole it through the windows.” Nick further explained.

“Did he happen to see said gentleman wearing the hat in question?” I assumptively asked.

“That is what one would think, isn’t it.” Nick responded, matter-of-factly.

“Oh this keeps getting better.” I stated.

“Tell Nick I said whattup.” Mark mumbled behind me.

“Hey, Mark says whattup.” I ablidged.

“Whattup Mark.” Nick responded to Mark through me.

“Nick says whattup.” I relayed to Mark.

“So anyway, you know how Steve gets when he’s wasted…” Nick implied.

“Go on.” I encouraged.

“Well, he fucking threw one of those Apartment Finder magazine holders that were out on the street through the God Damn window so he could get at the guy!” Nick exclaimed.

“Holy fucking shit!!” I cried out, incredulously.

“I know, right!? So anyway, I had to bail him out of fucking jail again. Totally killed my buzz.” Nick said, his voice dripping with sobriety.

“That completely blows.” I comforted.

“You know what the best part about the whole thing was?” Nick asked.

“What?” I also asked.

“Julie had his fucking hat in her purse the whole time! The guy Steve saw was wearing one of those table tents, like with the drink specials and shit on it! Not his hat!” Nick said, beginning to laugh.

“What!? Are you fucking joking!? That is Hilarious! God, Steve is such a moron!” I exclaimed.

Nick and I both settled into a hearty chuckle. I felt myself laughing harder and harder. And then it happened.

“Nick I gotta go.” I said as abruptly as I had just stopped laughing.

“Hey, wait! So then Sam was like…” Nick began, however I had already hung up the phone.

“Did that just happen?” I heard Mark ask from the other side of the pillow behind me.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, pretending to have no idea what he could be referring to.

“Do you need some toilet paper?” Mark asked, starting to laugh.

“That doesn’t even make any sense. Look, it’s already one o’ clock, I have a lot of stuff I gotta do today. I’ll call you later.” I stated.  I jumped up, threw my jeans and shirt on and grabbed my purse.

“The bathroom’s the last door on the left!” Mark yelled through laughter as I exited his apartment.

And that is the story of the first time I farted, not just in front of a boy, but on the bare leg of my boyfriend of just two weeks with my bare ass. I’m such a fucking lady.