Guest Blog Of The Month - Here's Your Pencil...

Guest Blog Tres. Just think of all of those awkward moments you had in school. The time you embarrassed yourself in the cafeteria, the time you accidentally farted in class or tripped over air in the hallway. As cringe worthy as all of that is ... it brings you to the mindset you need to be in when you read this months guest bloggers story. Anonymous is the name of the game. You don't know them.... I'm not sure if you'd want to know them if given the opportunity but their story is something we can all probably relate to. Enjoy and thank you once again Anonymous! You da best!

I've decided to take over Taylor’s guest blog spot this month. I read her friend’s blog about the deer head and thought how I must buy one of those. It would be hilarious if her friend ever came to visit me. The look in her eyes!!! Oh, I can see it now. This makes me laugh! Sadistic? No. Funny. Yesssss! It’s all about perspective. I’m sure she wouldn’t find this funny, but I know at least 10 people that would laugh their asses off at the sight of pure fear paralyzing her over an (now) inanimate object. (Sorry Taylor’s friend, you’re cool in my book). 

 

So, let’s come to facts here, you don’t know me, but I’m hilarious.  I get laughs left and right wherever I am. I seriously get sick of people dropping the HAHA and LOL when I’m around. Okay, funny is the wrong word to describe me, let’s use dorky. That seems better suited to my personality. I actually get a little nervous when I’m speaking to people. I feel like my face turns red, I’m stumbling over my words, I’m blinking too much and what the hell am I supposed to do with my hands?!?! In my pockets… on my hips… clasped together, hanging at my side…just cut them off already!!!

I also have a terrible memory and can’t even repeat the funny jokes I hear because I’m always asking them to hold on while I remember the punch line, which normally goes like this…

So, the doctor said the nurse…

…hold on…

Something about a ball and a banana…

Hold on… how did it go…

… never mind, but it was really funny. I couldn’t stop laughing. You really had to be there when what’s his name told it.

And end scene.

If you know me, which you don’t, my jokes are only funny because without fail, 99% of the stories I tell go like that and end with me leaving my audience confused and a little uncomfortable. I’m sure when I’m old and gray I’ll be keeping myself entertained with all the punch lines I couldn’t remember when I was younger. Oh, so that’s why they had to use the ball and the banana, gross.

Even though I’m not a great story teller, I love story time. Taylor and I were reminiscing about our childhood the other day and boys came up. Our first crushes and our first rejections. 

My first rejection happened when I was in elementary school. I had a huge crush on this guy named Mark. He was a fourth grade girl’s fantasy. He rode my bus, had a class with me and sat directly behind me. He knew who I was, but didn’t really know me. We didn’t talk because girls had cooties at the time and I was the Queen of cootie. I remember it being cold out because my hands would chap and crack pretty bad. My mom would slather Vaseline on them at night and make me put socks on as gloves to keep them from ruining my sheets and pillows. My hands were so bad at this point that I was taking the Vaseline to school. I couldn’t just put a tiny bit on, oh no, I had to use half the jar and make sure it was really caked on. You can’t have too much of that stuff on when your hands are cracked and bleeding. So, I’m nice and slathered up when Mark’s pencil rolls off his desk. 

OHMYLUCKYSTARS! I have an opportunity to give him his pencil!

I reach down to pick it up and as I’m bending down he’s screaming, "NO! No! NOOOOO!"  In a spectacular slow motion reel that I’ve played in my head a million times, I pick up his pencil, look at him with my big doe eyes and say in a tiny voice that was probably more creepy than shy, “here’s your pencil.” Here’s where the rejection hits. He looks at my cakey Vaseline hands and goes “Uh, no that’s okay, you keep it.” Why didn’t he want his pencil back? I left a little Vaseline on the pencil for him to moisturize his hands with. I don’t get it... 

Normal Portion

                                                                   Slight Overexaggeration....

Ha! Okay, I do get it now, but my little fourth grade heart was broken after that and I was known as the weird girl who liked Vaseline a little too much. Maybe this is where it all fell apart; maybe this is when I became socially awkward, who knows.  All I know is I’m not as messed up as the girl with the fear of stuffed dead animals. I kid, I joke! Much love to you Taylor’s friend.

I have to say, this has been fun rambling about socially awkward situations. Taylor should make that her next blog. She has quite a few awkward situations to tell about. I’m sure she could just post pictures of her childhood with no words and boom, entertainment.

This reminds me of a funny story having to do with Taylor. She was walking down the street the other day and... hold on... something about this guy, a bowl of white fluffy goodness and a shit list... I forget where I'm going with this. Never mind, but it was really funny.

I don't know about you, but I think I'm hilarious. Dead deer head. :)