Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Shash-age Links

I can't wait for this new discount foods app to release on iPhone in Mid-September!

Hilarious. Pained faces of guitar solos so much funnier like this.

You may have thought the Super Moon was me everytime a boat passed the dock at our last Girls' Weekend, but apparently there's another lesser-known-and-not-quite-as-awe-inspiring kind.

I wonder if anybody will ever love me like this.

We are doing amazing, unfathomably intelligent and groundbreaking things here in Minnesota!! FOUR YEARS AGO!!!

As a childless person, I have all kinds of strong parenting opinions. Here's some cool tricks that everybody else is doing around the world.

Do you live in Minneapolis? Got some old crap lying around? Trade it for tacos! Delivered by bicycle!

Who knew Russell Brand is a brilliant writer? Apparently he regularly contributes to The Guardian. I wonder if he would date me?





Super Moon, Russell. SUPER MOON.


Monday, August 18, 2014

Mensa Moment

A couple of my goodest friends Matt & Laurissa happen to live across the street from me. I've watched their cats (Salvadore and Gala) when they go out of town for a few years now, and I think it was about two years ago that they installed a coded back door lock. So instead of giving me a key these days, they just have me use the code, which is 9976. Just kidding. 

Anyway, ever since this code thing started, I've had just a slight sense of inconvenience because it's really hard to get in their backyard. (...And I mean really the sense of inconvenience is only VERY slight because I totally watch their TV and do all my laundry and basically just clean out the litter, freshen water and food once a day and let the cats sleep in their bed with me and cuddle them and take pictures and put them on Instagram so Laurissa won't miss them so much when she's gone. Also, I should probably clarify that I only slept there when I was homeless.) 

Anyway, it's so hard to get in their backyard!

Allow me to demonstrate, and thank you to L for taking video. This is the first option: 


Re-enactment.


I have yet to get in that way. I'm too short and the latch is too nice and new and even if I could reach it, it doesn't come open for me. Fortunately there's another option nearer to their garage which has a much more broken-in latch. It's pretty rusted out and comes undone easily:


Re-enactment.



My problem is getting it locked again. It's very difficult to get the doors to marry up properly, and once I finally do, the latch is so broken and rusty that it doesn't always stay locked. Also it hurts my back and also I'm putting 150 pounds of pressure on it several times a year and I feel terrified that I'm breaking their fence!


Re-enactment.



Well. Last month, M & L went to Chicago for the weekend and asked me to check in on the cats. I almost asked them to leave me a key because I wasn't looking forward to the whole cat burglar (pun intended) fence operation at all. But I forgot. So, I popped the latch, used the code (8460. Just Kidding), made sure the cats were happy and paid attention to, and also I did my laundry. Then I once again almost broke the poor fence, but I got it locked again.

In between loads, on one particular trip up the basement stairs it dawned on me. There was a third option!


Re-enactment.


What makes the fact that there was a third option at all so upsetting and hilarious at the same time is that I totally knew about it! I have used it ONE MILLION TIMES over the years.


WHAT THE HECK?

I don't know. It was never in the context of watching the cats. It was only if I was walking over to a fire in their backyard and wanted to skip the walking-through-the-house part. Or if I was going between their house and the neighbors on the other side and didn't want to jump that chain-link fence in the meantime.

But for watching the cats? I just always went to the back. For TWO. YEARS.






"I don't want to belong to any club that will accept me as a member."



Sunday, August 17, 2014

Sunday Favorites: The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Fat Belly

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing? You've missed SO MUCH. Not to worry. Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite. Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day. Enjoy! This story originally appeared on June 28, 2011:



My dad and I were driving home from a trip and he was lamenting about how he saw a photo of himself and he was embarrassed of his belly looking big. 


Farmer-sized.


I said, "and thanks a lot -- it's obviously hereditary cuz I got that gol' dang thing too."  He said, "well yours is fat."



I wonder what the heck he thinks his is.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

A Conversation With Hal

"Kady are we estranged?"

"No Dad. We're not estranged."

"But I never see you!"

"Sure you do. In fact I'm thinkin' about comin' up there."

"Well I'm thinkin' about gettin' cremated, but I ain't about to rush it. Thinkin' and doin' are two different things. I been watching Raomi and Isles and they said, 'she's estranged from her daughter -- they haven't talked in 36 years.' And I thought, that sounds like Kady and I...and you know...I started getting humid in my eyes...so that's...whats...foaming my beer I guess. Did I already tell you I love you?"

"Yah, Dad, you did, but I never get tired of hearing it."

"Isn't it funny? Three words, so easy to say, so hard to mean, and so nice to hear? It's like that time Kelly told me I was a good shooter. Did I ever tell you that story? She was like 3 years old and we were out driving, she was standing on the hump, you know, on the floor in between the seats. She couldn't even see over the dashboard and there in the road was a partridge. Two car lengths away. So I blasted it you know, and when I got back in the car and in her tiny little voice she said, 'oh Dad! You're such a good shooter!'. It was the most precious thing I'd ever heard."

"That's because it was about you, Dad."

"Yah, I guess you're right....if they talk about ol' Bill so-and-so from Texas, 'A Good Shooter', it wouldn't mean much to me."




Thursday, August 14, 2014

Too Cool for School

In High School, I was very conscious of the fact that riding the school bus with my little sister Kasey was not cool. But we didn't always get the use of my mom's 1986 Chrysler LeBaron either:


The epitome of 'cool'.



And let's just be clear about one thing: in High School, KASEY AND I WERE COOL:




Naturally we wanted to maintain that image. At all costs.

The "Senior Benches" were located by the front entrance and all the hot Senior guys would usually sit there for a while right after school waiting for their respective sports to start. Kasey and I, naturally, could be found flirting with them until it was "time to go".

Anyway, most days when we had to ride the bus, we would flirt and then make an excuse followed by a hasty yet calculated exit out the side door of the school, in the direction of the parking lot to make like we had a car. (As I have explained, I was quite the liar.) Fortunately, our bus driver Delbert always parked Bus # 3 in the front of the waiting bus line and that was near the side door as well. 

Allow me to illustrate:






Flawless plan.

Enter my nerdy-little-middle-school-chubby-space-toothed-cousin-Tony-Joe, who also rode our bus because in addition to being cousins we were also neighbors. Typically nerdy-little-middle-school-chubby-space-toothed-cousin-Tony-Joe would be picked up at his middle school and then wait patiently on the bus in front of the high school for all of us to file out. Tony Joe is a perfectly cool guy now (ice road trucker and everything) -- but I could have died one day when we were standing there flirting with the hot Senior guys sitting on the Senior benches, ready to make our way out the side door, perfectly aware that we were running out of time...when suddenly the front doors of the school burst open, and there stood nerdy-little-middle-school-chubby-space-toothed-cousin-Tony-Joe, screaming  in a panic, 



"KADY!...KASEY!!!...BUSSSS!!!!!!"



Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Hasn't Anybody Even Noticed?

I mean, have we even met? Do you really even know me?

You haven't noticed I thrive am desperate for accolades and validation? At all times? Haven't I explained that I'm a middle child from a big, poor family?

DUH!



YOU GUYS:

I CHANGED MY HEADER AND I DID IT ALL BY MYSELF* AFTER THREE YEARS OF THE SAME BORING HEADER AND NOBODY EVEN NOTICED.



*and I'm not even very good at "the computer".







See? I had to add words and make the "'s a gir" black with the other words white. And I had to slant some of the words up my arm...and please ignore the fact that my nose looks broken in this photo. It was hard, OK?



COME ON.






Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Summer-isms, Vol. 69 (The Appendectomy)

"Can I eat this? Is this floor really dirty or really clean?

"No backwards somersault butt push-ups for you young lady."

"Oh no! What if you're like Sampson and your power was your extroversion and your appendix was your hair?"

"Oh no! What is that? Oh. Poop."

"And yes, every decision I make is for your sweaty boobs."





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