Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Lost and Found Spittoon

As many of you know, I go to church at an elementary school. Something about me being in an elementary school brings back my mind of mischief and makes me want to put tin foil gum wrappers in the electrical outlets again, but that's beside the point.

Just after Thanksgiving I was looking for a garbage can to get rid of my gum, but there were none to be found. There were recycling bins all over the place, but I figured if you're not even supposed to swallow gum you probably shouldn't recycle it. Hmm, I guess you're not supposed to swallow aluminum cans or milk jugs either. Sorry, my bad. Faulty logic.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, looking for a garbage can. I finally found one down the hall in a corner. It was a square bin with a black garbage liner. In other words, a garbage can. But, after I threw my gum in and looked down I noticed a big pile of coats. I was so perplexed. It wasn't until a few weeks later that they put up a sign indicating that the square garbage can was actually the Lost and Found. Nice job principal's office. Way to delegate to the garbage.

So, now I just stick my gum under the seats. And yes, for those of you that were wondering, I did fetch my gum from the bin as soon as I noticed the pile of coats. I was too worried that Tiny Tim would get a gum dreadlock in his armpit, what with the crutches and all.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Dream Jokes

I don't dream often. But when I do, I prefer Dos Equis. No, but seriously, I hardly ever remember my dreams. Last night's was vivid, though. Tommy was attempting to tell a joke at the dinner table and I was walking him through it because he pulled a mom and kept forgetting how it went. It's funny how I knew the punchline of the joke as Tommy was telling it in my dream, even though the joke didn't exist. It went like this:

So, a giraffe was talking to a cheetah and said, "So, what are you going to name your kid?"

"Clyde," said the cheetah.

"Well, how will that name help your baby know that it belongs to you?" asked the giraffe.

The cheetah thought for a minute, but couldn't think of a good answer. "I dunno," he said. "What did you name your kid to help it know that it belonged to you?"

The giraffe stared at the cheetah and said, "I'm a giraffe, baby!"

Yeah, I know. It doesn't make sense. It's kind of funny if you have the right deliver, but it still doesn't change the fact that it doesn't make sense. The last joke I told in my dreams was better.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Oatmeal Explosion

I once burned microwavable popcorn three times in a row. Don't ask me how, because I don't know. One thing I do know, though, is that I never heard the end of it. And so, it is with hesitation that I share this, but I think you should know: today I botched instant oatmeal. I filled a large soup cup with water and oatmeal and threw it in the microwave at work, and after about a-minute-and-a-half, I smelled burning. I opened the microwave door and saw strawberry oatmeal splattered all over the place. I grabbed an army of paper towels and disconglobulated the microwave tray with towel after towel until it was finally clean. The seam of the paper oatmeal container was singed with a dark brown burn and the cup was boiling lava hot. Morsels of oatmeal magma clung to the outer rim of the container. I quickly stirred the oatmeal, but as I pulled out the plastic spoon, I noticed it was all warped and disfigured. It was at that point that I realized I had no idea whether I had cooked the plastic spoon in the microwave with the oatmeal for two minutes or whether the spoon had melted of its own accord. I couldn't stomach the thought of ingesting melted plastic, so I just threw it all away. I learned an important lesson today, though. Mainly that "disfigured" is fun to say with an Irish accent. Just make sure to pronounce it as "disfiggered."

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Aerosol Factory

So, I found out I'll be counting inventory at an aerosol factory.

Tumbleweed blows


Cricket chirps

It was actually pretty interesting speaking with the controller of the company.

Ribbet, ribbet

He said I'll have to watch a safety video.

Coughing sound coming from the back of an auditorium

Here's how it went down:

"Have you ever been do an aerosol factory before?" he asked.

"Nope," I responded.

"You haven't?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, I really haven't," I said.

Was he really that surprised? Aerosol factories aren't exactly tourist traps. It's not like your friend comes to Chicago and you say, "Oh hey, while you're here, you should hit up Navy Pier and the aerosol factory. You can also go to the Sears Tower, Millennium Park, or the Magnificent Mile; the Aquarium, zoo, or the Science and Industry Museum; a Bears, Bulls, Blackhawks, Cubs, or White Sox game--but only if you have time. Definitely go to the aerosol factory, though."

Then came his moment of glory:

"Well, you need to watch the safety video then, because the slightest spark can make these gases catch fire and explode. The thing with aerosols is, they burn so hot they burn clear. You can't even see the flames. The only thing you notice is the flesh falling off your bones."

Hey man. Quit trying to make your job sound cooler than it is. I mean, I'm all about taking pride in your work and all, but say it, don't spray it.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Type Racer

I may or may not have just engaged in the nerdiest pastime ever. I heard Brooke typing to a friend while we were video chatting and it sounded like she was typing pretty fast; so, I challenged her to round of Type Racer. In other words: a dork duel. Type Racer is a site my accounting friends introduced me to a couple of years ago. We would race each other on occasion and revel in our nerdery. Brooke smoked me in the first couple of rounds, but my fingers were just getting warmed up. Once I broke 100 wpm, I never looked back. I guess building web sites all the time in 7th grade instead of hanging out with friends is finally paying dividends. Yep. I'm officially a geek.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

ESPN Tangier Island Commercial

The commercial speaks for itself when the guy from Tangier Island speaks for himself. He's a court recorder's worst nightmare. Suddenly, thick Utah accents sound refined to me. Same goes for the accents just outside of Ottawa. Oh yeah.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

The Chi-clone

So, the Chi-clone wasn't all it was cracked up to be. There were no witches getting hit by flying houses, no capsized vessels, and, surprisingly, not too much rain; albeit, right when I woke up, it was a pretty steady downpour and there were white caps in the harbor of Lake Michigan. Apparently, everyone who tried to go to work at 8:00 got absolutely clobbered by the rain, but by the time I left for work at 8:20, the storm had ceased. Everything was fine. No wind. No rain. Nada.

The wind picked up that afternoon, though. The building at work was subtly swaying with the wind, rocking back and forth like a cruise ship. I got used to it after a while, but the lights swinging above my head like the pendulum of a grandfather clock were a constant reminder. The powerful gusts of wind flexed the glass windows, making the walls next to my cubicle creak. The eerie sounds made it felt like I was working on a pirate ship, 'cept fer we be speakin' proper English.

The crazy thing is, I was only on the 8th floor. Made me wonder what kind of party the wind was having up on 34.

Monday, October 25, 2010

The Great Lakes Cyclone

Apparently it's gonna be bad. Severe storms are set to hit Chicago tomorrow morning around 4am, slow down tomorrow night, and then pick up again on Wednesday morning and last until 7pm Wednesday night. The National Weather Service is calling it "The Great Lakes Cyclone" and says will rank among the most powerful cyclones in the last hundred years. It's predicted to be the equivalent of a category three hurricane, so watch out for flying shopping carts and road signs, falling trees, and smashing pumpkins. Seriously.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Old Spice Wrestlers

I stumbled upon an Old Spice commercial while I was supposed to be studying for the CPA exam this weekend. It's an old favorite of mine that I love for two reasons: first, because it's so awkward; second, because I was on the Olympus Junior High wrestling team and used to rock the singlet.

I would attach a picture of me in my singlet back in the day, but I didn't feel like using the pixelate tool in Photoshop tonight, so you don't get the privilege. I was pretty strong back then, though. Have you ever seen a 100lb boy in a singlet? It's pretty intimidating. Especially when his head weighs 30. I actually missed my only match one year because I had to take a safety test for woodshop. I was so mad. Mr. Pixton was so lame.

One funny thing, though... We learned this move called the chicken wing and to put someone in the chicken wing they have to be on their stomach and you put your hands underneath their elbows and pull their arms up behind them like chicken wings and you walk sideways across the mat while they're writhing in agony and they eventually flip over on their back and you pin them. Yeah, I know, it doesn't make sense, but hopefully you fighters out there follow what I'm sayin'.

Well, it was while we were learning this move that I figured out that I'm freakishly double-jointed in my shoulders. We were supposed to lie on our stomachs and bend our arms like wings so the other wrestler could practice the move. I wasn't really paying attention when the coach explained the move to us so I just laid on my back and made wings that came in front of my body instead of behind. The kid I was wrestling with just looked at me and said, "That's weird. I don't think you're supposed to be able to do that." It was so funny and even more funny because I had a bowl cut at the time.

Friday, October 22, 2010


It's interesting being on the other side of the coin for recruiting. You notice people rubbing sweaty palms on their pants. Awkwardly placed nervous laughs. Jittery legs bouncing. Onslaughts of overly-interested questions. Weary lips from plastered smiles.

A kid sitting across from me at the dinner table made eye contact with me and then leaned in to ask me a question as I masticated a meaty morsel of filet mignon.

"Any final words of advice before interviews tomorrow?" he asked.

I mustered up the best straight-faced look I could and stared him down the barrel.

"Yeah, don't screw up."

Just easin' the tension.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Teenage Dream

I found this treasure a couple of weeks ago and thought I'd finally pass it along. It requires no explanation, aside from the fact that this kid is 16. And a facial expression mastermind. And creepy. And the spawn of John Daker.

P.S. The comments on this video were amazing. After 11 million views they ought to be. My favorite was the first one I saw:

"2:51 Way to give me nightmares kid..."

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Safety Goggles

When I first moved to Chicago, church was about 40 minutes away, but we just moved to a rented space a little closer to downtown, about 15 minutes from my apartment. The building we're renting is actually an elementary school, so it's fun to sit in small chairs and have the periodic table of elements handy if I ever need to understand the facsimiles in the Pearl of Great Price. We have Sunday School in the science room and I saw this poster hanging next to the instructor.

It's the kind of poster I wish I had come up with. I like how it elicits fear while still maintaining its awesomeness. I kind of want to make it into a t-shirt.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Dan, the Shoe Shine Man

The other day I was walking home from work on Columbus Street and a big, burly black guy in a Chicago Bears jersey approached me and said, "Shoe shine, sir?"

My shoes actually did need to be shined, but, to be honest, I was in a poorly lit part of town and I just wanted to keep moving. "No thanks," I said and kept walking.

Then he said, "Wait, sir, I jus' needa tell you sometin'. Da bes' shoe shine polish you can buy is da kiwi shoe shine polish. You also need to buy one of dese here Kiwi buffuhs to get da nice shine. My name's Dan the Shoe Shine Man." He extended his hand and I took it. "I shine shoes domestically and internationally. Let me show–" Dan squirted polish onto my left shoe as we're talking and got down on one knee and patted his knee a couple of times, inviting my shoe to take its spot while he shined it. "–you somethin'."

I put my foot on his knee and he rubbed the polish all around my shoe with his fingers and then pulled out a dirty towel and started polishing away and singing while he worked, "You gotta look real nice and neat while you out here on Columbus Street." It made me crack a smile. Okay, enough with the rhymes. I didn't even want my shoes shined in the first place. But there I was. It looked like he was doing a good job. I peered over my shoulder periodically to make sure I wasn't going to get mugged. I felt like a sitting duck with my laptop bag and one shoe up on Dan's knee.

He started telling me all this other stuff and then paused before he used the Kiwi polish finisher. "I like to bend the tip of the shoe to make sure it all goes down in the cracks," he explained. He finished polishing and then had me compare the polished shoe with the old shoe. I was sure that he was going to say, "Okay, now, if you want the other shoe done you've gottta pay," but he didn't. He just grabbed my other shoe and started polishing. Then he started telling me about how he shines shoes globally and domestically again, so I said, skeptically, "You shine shoes internationally?"

"Yes sir," he said.

"Where do you shine shoes internationally?"

He thought for a second and then started, "Well, you know, like the Hilton, the Wyatt Hotel, all around really." Oh yeah, all around Chicago. That makes sense.

He was a cool guy, though, and he did a nice shoe shine. As soon as he finished he said, "All right an' it's eight dolluhs a shoe and I'd appreciate a little tip because dis is how I feed mah family." I knew that one was coming. I didn't have much cash on me but I figured I valued that shoe shine to the tune of $3, so I gave it to him. I reminded him how I didn't want the shoe shine in the first place and how he squirted polish on my shoes while we were talking, so he reluctantly said, "Okay, no, dats cool. You have a nice night, sir."

I felt bad. I had just shined Dan the Shoe Shine Man. But let's face it–if I'm gonna shell out $20 it's going to go towards a new shoe shine set, not Dan's shoe shine shenanigans.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Joy in the Journey

Nope, I'm not blogging about Chicago yet, but soon. I just wanted to share the evidence of my brush with fame in the Philippines. Ryan and I ate dinner at the table next to Arnel Pineda, the new lead singer for Journey. He's a Filipino guy who was singing in a band in Hong Kong and a couple of YouTube videos of some Journey covers helped to catapult him into Steve Perry's old spot. You can read his story here if you're interested.

Ryan and I had both left our cameras back at the hotel, so Ryan hurried and bought a disposable. By the time Ryan came back Arnel had already left, but we chased him down after dinner and snagged a picture with him right before he turned the corner. He's a nice guy. He even offered to give us tickets to his upcoming concert in Manila, but the concert was happening a couple days after we were scheduled to come home.

If you're interested in hearing what he sounds like compared to Steve Perry, Journey's original lead singer, you can watch the videos below. The last video is the original music video for Separate Ways, which is awesome for so many reasons. If you only have time to watch one, watch that one, at least until you witness the air keyboard. And if you liked that music video, then you'll love "Hooked on a Feeling" by David Hasslehoff.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Farewell Utah

Tomorrow afternoon I'm headed out to Chicago for the next few years to work for PwC. Last night I went to Porcupine Grill with a bunch of my friends and just tried to soak everything in.

We were going to go to a movie, but the movies showing either didn't look good or had already been seen by someone in the group, so, we opted to rent a movie.

We walked into Blockbuster and, let me tell you, that place was a ghost town. We commented on how empty the store was and Joe Boyer sheepishly asked the lady at the counter if the store was open at which point one of my friends responded, "Joe, don't insult them!"

Finding the right movie proved to be quite the challenge. I thought we were making some headway and then Cole approached me with two movies in hand: Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skulls and G.I. Joe.

"Which one do you want to watch?" he asked. The word 'neither' came to mind.

"Hmmm...that's a tough one," I said. I knew he wanted to watch Indiana Jones.

"Well, pick one. Or does neither one sound good to you?"

"Well, the newest Indiana Jones movie isn't good and neither is G.I. Joe."

Dave Smith chimed in, "Why don't we watch Million Dollar Baby? It won four academy awards."

Now we're talking. I had actually been wanting to see that show ever since I saw the "Hundred Dollar Baby" spoof they did on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Cole was trying to strong arm me into a mistake of a movie, but I was unshakable. Million Dollar Baby it was.

We got up to the check-out and asked Kristy, the lady at the counter, "Is Million Dollar Baby a good movie–like a movie you could see five dudes watching?" She affirmed.

Then Cole asked, "What about Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skulls?"

Without hesitation she said, "No one should watch that movie. That movie's awful." I was loving it.

"What about G.I. Joe?" Cole asked.

"Same boat as Indiana Jones," she replied. "Its' terrible."

"Kristy's a tool!" Cole muttered after exiting the store. As we were walking into Cole's house to watch the movie he said, "Well, I'm glad my last memory of Bob will be about how he ruined my night." It made me laugh really hard.

Maybe it was just because the movie was really sad, but as I was leaving Cole's, everything started to hit me. Moving to Chicago felt real for the first time. I was saying goodbye to my group of guy friends I've been best friends with for the past 11 years. I was saying goodbye to Salt Lake City. My college experience at BYU. Family. Basically everything familiar.

I didn't have a car at Cole's, so Joe offered to give me a ride home. As I walked outside Cole's house, I glanced back at him for a second, but quickly turned back towards the dark night to save myself: I was on the verge of tears.

I got into Joe's car and wondered if he could tell. I tried to subtly wipe away the occasional tears that strayed from my eyes and traveled down the sides of my face. Could he tell that the power in my voice was fading and starting to sound a little shaky?

Joe started reminiscing with me about how our last two years at BYU living at Jamestown 14 were some of his favorite memories. Staying up late with all of the roommates, hosting parties. "The times when all four of us were together were my favorite," he said. Oh no. Not now, Joe. Maybe right after we ate dinner, but not now. I can't handle sentimental now.

I did a good job of warding off the tears welled in my eyes by telling a couple of funny stories, but then I tried to be sentimental for a second and my voice completely gave out. I managed to get out a barely audible "sorry" and then my eyes unleashed an onslaught of tears I'd been bridling back for the first five minutes of the car ride. Joe turned down the radio and we just sat in silence for a few minutes. I alternated between crying and laughing, listening and talking for the last stretch of the ride. I knew a good cry was bound to happen, I just didn't think it would happen in front of people. But what better friend to have with me than Joe.

I'm probably making it sound like someone is dying or like I'm going off to war or something. I'm not. I'm just a kid about to go out on a new adventure, who doesn't know what the future will bring. A kid who knows that even though I'll probably be back in Utah every few months, things will never be the same. But they never are. Change is everywhere; but, I can choose to come out on top with some hard work and optimism. And puns.

I'll miss my mountain home, but I'm excited about Chicago.

I'm excited about the people in Chicago. I have a lot of close friends in the city and I'm so excited to be near to Johnny and Kica and their kids for the first year. Having family there will make the dearth of nieces and nephews and Sunday dinners a lot more bearable.

I'm excited about my job in Chicago. I'm a glutton for pain and decided to work for PwC Chicago from January to March 2009 so that I could experience the winter and the busy season. I figured if I could handle 80-hour weeks and a 20-below windchill that everything else about living in Chicago would be a pleasant surprise.

I'm excited about the growth opportunities in Chicago. I'm not talking about all the weight I gained during my winternship–I'm pretty sure the added girth can be attributed to my work paying for all of my meals. For a while I felt like I was on a cruise ship and kept ordering sandwiches and burritos with extra meat and extra cheese, but then I realized that I have to live with my body and simmered down a little bit. But, too little too late: the damage was done (the jamma jin jen?). Luckily for me, the weight I gain goes to my face first and leaves my cheeks last (still talking about my face), so the weight gain was barely noticeable to the average observer. After four months.–I'm talking about spiritual and maturing growth. I think I'll get a lot of life experience living in Chicago and that I'll learn a lot about making decisions, managing, relying on myself, but most importantly, relying on the Lord. I'll probably still need to solicit Mary's opinion on new clothes, though. Let's be honest.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Watermelon to the Head, Anybody?

My friend Liz showed me this clip from The Amazing Race today and I laughed uncontrollably. I'm still laughing between every sentence I write because I still can't believe that what I just saw actually happened. You've gotta see this. Her capi was de-tated.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Sunscreen Self-Application

I gave my freakishly double-jointed shoulders too much credit in the Philippines and decided to slather sunscreen on my back by myself. My camo-back is living–soon to be peeling–proof that it was not a good idea. To showcase my ineptitude, one part on my back features finger-shaped peninsulas of white skin salvaged from UV carnage, surrounded by a bay of burnt brown skin. These sun-stenciled splotches are a reminder that it's always good to get a second opinion when applying sunscreen. At least I didn't get burned as bad as the time I went snorkeling in Jamaica and I asked Johnny to rub sunscreen on my back and he told me I wouldn't need it because my back would be under a layer of water. That layer of water, essentially a magnifying glass, helped facilitate the burns that would soon hatch a layer of tiny blisters on my back.

Scattered Showers

In the summer, when you're wearing shorts and flip flops at the urinal, you yearn for the winter months when you'll be protectively clad with slacks and shoes. Ignorance was bliss.

It's not something I'm just making up either. The splash zone is a real thing. It's a phenomenon that any man can attest to, however subtle the spray may be. It became even more apparent to me after traveling in shorts and flip flops for the past two weeks.

The splash zone doesn't take the urinal cake, though. Back in the 90's, when LaVell Edwards Stadium was Cougar Stadium, the stadium's arsenal of urinals was preceded by a solitary urine trough attached to the washroom wall. Tommy and I walked in one day and saw a man using the trough, and much to his chagrin, his toddler placed a hand on the lip of the trough and started making an airplane sound. The revving of the airplane engine confirmed the father's number one fear. I could sense the urgency of the situation and could read the terror on the father's face, but it was too late. It all happened in one fluid motion. The father desperately reached out his right hand and screamed, "NOOOooo!" as his son's hand slid across the entire sickening stretch of the 10 yard urinal. First down! Trough luck. Urine trouble.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Voice Recognition

My phone has a button that allows me to use voice activated commands, such as "Call Broseph." Upon hearing this, the robotic female voice in my phone typically responds "Calling, Brusuph mobuhl," and thereupon calls Joe.

My phone is usually pretty accurate in detecting what name I've said (partly because I pronounce names precisely how I envision a robot would [ie: BYU Info=Bayou Info]), but every once in a while it's like my phone just stops trying.

"Call Ruth LeBurn," I command the phone with unvaried, humdrum intonation monotony.

Female Robot Voice responds: "Did you say, Hristo Gangov?"

I'm like, c'mon! That's not even close! It's so annoying. It makes me wonder how we'll ever have robot maids and butlers like the Jetsons if our current robots can't even handle simple voice recognition tasks.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Herbert the Hermit Crab

My friend, Courtney, sent me this text message yesterday:

Tell me a story.

Here was my response:

"Herbert the Hermit Crab"

Once upon a time, there was a hermit crab named Herbert. Herbert wasn’t much of a hermit—at least he didn’t want to be. Herbert wanted to eat kelp with the eels, wrestle with starfish, and play hide and go swim with the sea horses. But the feeling was not mutual.

You see, Herbert had a problem. Herbert had halitosis. In fact, Herbert’s breath was much more ghastly than the gassy bubbles the humans often let out of their backsides. Herbert’s death-breath was so odious that it had practically made him enemies with everyone. Even the anemone was an enemy.

Herbert tried to get rid of the fishy smell of his breath, but to no avail. Then one day, Dr. Pufferfish came to town. Herbert would have ‘puffered’ not to tell the doctor of his problem, but the evidence was rampant and lonely Herbert was ‘urchin’ to feel accepted.

So, Herbert went to Dr. Pufferfish, who prescribed some Mentos. The doctor called them "fresh makers" and told Herbert they would help. But, they didn’t help. Not one bit.

Then Dr. Pufferfish noticed that Herbert’s breath didn’t reek at all. The putrid stench was coming from Herbert’s smelly shell.

“Leapin' barnacles!” Herbert exclaimed. “Such a simple solution to free myself from this fetid funk.

“Get the shell away from me!” Herbert ordered the doctor.

And so he did.

And Herbert lived happily ever after.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Quiznos "More Meat" Commercial

**It looks like the commercial was offensive so Quiznos removed it from YouTube, but you can still watch it here.

Epic win. I love it when the smiley black kid winks at the end.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Salsa at Work

I made salsa for the marketing department at work today. When I arrived, I told the art director to start playing Mexican music when he wanted to partake of the homemade goodness. At about 10 o'clock, a Mariachi mix of "Hotel California" sounded from his office and, like pack of Pavlovian dogs, we all paused from work and congregated in his office to savor the salsa.

One guy loved the salsa. He told me that he used to just think of me as "the intern," but now he thinks of me as "the intern-who-makes-salsa." Climbing that corporate ladder one rung at a time.

Everyone asked me questions about moving to Chicago, and we somehow got on the topic of scary neighborhoods in Chicago; so, naturally, I told them about the time I got dropped off at a gas station in South Chicago, accent and all. They loved it.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Monofaces and Younicorns

I'm probably really late in the game in making this discovery, but Brooke showed me Monoface the other day, and I got a kick out of it. It's an interactive New Year's card made by the ad agency, Mono, a while back. Just keep hitting shuffle and the fun don't stop. Gotta love the wealth of lazy eyes found in the shuffle. It's almost as classic as seeing Bea's mug stamped across the family portrait.

After seeing Monoface, Joe showed me some of the iPhone apps that Mono makes. They make an app called photo'clock, which features 720 different pictures, one for each minute of the day.

They also make Younicorn, an essential app which allows users to take pictures of loved ones and add unicorn horns and rainbow backdrops, for that extra magical touch.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Domino's Pizza Proverbs

Domino's Pizza is seeking out savory morsels of meaty wisdom. They have a new website, Pizza Proverbs, that asks users to alter popular proverbs by substituting prudent pizza insights.

I wrote down a few, but I wasn't proud of the preponderance of the proverbs. What pizza proverbs would you add?
  • A pepperoni pizza cannot change its spots
  • If the hungry lead the hungry then they shall both fall into the deep dish
  • Order for others what you would have them order for you
  • The pepperoni is mightier than the sausage
  • A pizza sliced against itself cannot stand
  • Pizza is where the box is
  • An ounce of salami is worth a pound of anchovies
  • Spare the pizza, punish the child
  • The sausage doesn't fall far from the cheese
  • Sauce is thicker than water
  • Hunger tends to repeat itself
  • A slice in hand is worth two in the box

Monday, July 26, 2010

Jamba Juice Cheeseburger Chill Smoothie

I love how this feels like a McDonald's commercial. Jamba Juice is trying to create some stir by aiming at fast food restaurants getting into the smoothie business. They don't think the two businesses blend well.

DirecTV Opulence Commercial | "I jump in it."

Is like best commercial ever. I love the miniature giraffe at the end almost as much as I love speaking in a Russian accent.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Naked Fridge Forager

Last night I had a barbecue with some friends, played a few song requests, and then about ten of us went down to the Spanish Fork Fair. A few friends had their faces painted and a bunch of us went on a ride called "The Zipper," which was amazing.
I'd gladly go on the ride again in a heartbeat. You may not be able to tell by the picture, but the pods spin in circles and are connected to cables that spin around the main arm of the ride, all while the pendulum swings in full circles in one directions and then stops and goes the other way. Something about spinning that much makes me smile and laugh like a little kid.

Later that night we went back to a friend's apartment and lit a ton of fireworks to celebrate pioneer day. We blasted MoTab singing "Come, Come Ye Saints" for the first few fireworks to help replicate the feeling of listening to Lee Greenwood or Neil Diamond during Independence Day fireworks.

After a few rounds of fireworks I looked across the street and what to my wondering eyes did a appear, but a naked guy shamelessly foraging through the fridge in plain sight, unprotected by his enormous kitchen window sans blinds. "Don't mind the man in the buff across the street," I advised. We were all shocked. That guy put the flabber in flabbergasted. How lewd!

Once we had been exposed to the naked truth, we decided it was time to light our two giant firework finales. We had just lit them when someone driving a white car came and intentionally ran over our fireworks. They both fell over onto their sides and one rolled towards all of the spectators who were sitting on the curb. It's all fun and games until you get sprayed by the Golden Shower (name of the firework). Luckily, everyone escaped in time to avoid a sulfuric scalding. The end.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

The Taxidermist Strikes Again

Rodent-carcass-encased beverages anyone? When I saw this picture at work I immediately started chortling in my cubicle, the office-appropriate lol equivalent. These are way cooler than the sleeve thingies for Hot Pockets. Here's the original link to the article in The Consumerist that Brooke sent me if you want to read more about it. Cheers to the Scottish brewery for the epic win on packaging.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Food at Work

At work they say if you put stuff in the fridge, you need to put your name on it or it will be thrown away. I never put my name on my food, though. I like to live life on the edge. I'm rebellious like that.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Pickles at Lunchtime

How does the pungence of pickles permeate the plastic membrane that is my lunch bag and emanate into the air while the bag is yet unopened? Some things we'll never know.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Meet Mayhem

I just saw these "Meet Mayhem" commercials from Allstate today and thought they were really clever.
I've come to appreciate good insurance commercials ever since my capstone advertising class at BYU, where I spent the better part of four months doing research about insurance and then created an ad campaign for State Farm.

P.S. Almost immediately after I posted this I was informed by two friends (Wendy and Brooke) that the kid who came up with these commercials, Chris Rodriguez, is a BYU grad working for Leo Burnett in Chicago, living in my soon-to-be-again singles branch. Props to him.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Drop Zone

Dear Perched Pooper,

If you're going to bomb my car, please hit it directly instead of grazing the passenger side window. The window smears are unsightly and have to stop.

Your human,

Bob LeBaron

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Saggy Bum

On my first day of work, they guy who set up my work station said, "Oh, and by the way, just so you know, we don't have any better chairs, so you'll just have to make this one work." It seemed weird to me at the time, because usually when someone gives a foreboding precursor like that, it means there's something wrong; but my chair was fine. Or was it?

It wasn't until three weeks into my internship that I noticed my fanny kept sagging through the bottom of my chair. I looked under my orange chair cover and noticed there was a snapped bungie cord right in the butt bull's-eye of my seat, which seemed to be the root cause of my derriere detriment.

"Weird," I thought, as I tried to wiggle around every six minutes in my seat to avoid the falling through of the crack. But, it was to no avail. It was like trying to lie in a broken hammock. Plus, my back was starting to hurt.

Brooke suggested that get the Tush Cush, but I couldn't muster up enough courage to buy an anal bum cover for my chair.
So, I went into the conference room and found a chair that looked identical to mine and wheeled it over to my desk. Problem solved. Not. Did I mention the new chair was even more broken than the first one? So, I wheeled over a third chair to my desk, which finally worked. The only problem is that the cover on my new chair doesn't cover up a pesky pole that periodically pokes my leg. But I hide the discomfort well. No one at work can read my poked face.

Friday, July 16, 2010

BYU's Old Spice Spoof

I've already showed this to a lot of you, but I thought BYU did a really good job with this parody ad for the Harold B. Lee Library. Props to them on the production. They've gotten a lot of shout outs, the most impressive of which, was their mention on the Friday Morning Stir of Agency Spy. They also landed an article in the Deseret News. My favorite part is when the celestial sandwich appears towards the end.

Just in case you've been living under a rock for the past six months and don't know what concept they copied. Here is the original Old Spice commercial.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Old Spice Boat Commercial: All Over This

You may have seen this new Old Spice commercial already, but if you haven't, you need to see it: it's amazing. Tommy showed it to me on Sunday and I still laugh every time he says, "But probably this...all over this."

Monday, July 12, 2010


The drink vending machine at work costs 50 cents per soda; but there's one button on the machine labeled "Surprise" that spews out mystery cans for 25 cents a pop. From the day I saw it, my interest was piqued. I was soda curious about what kind of bevy I would levy with the button. Truth be told, I haven't been let down yet. Today was a Diet Coke. It kinda makes me wish there was a mystery button on the food vending machine, as well, so I would have a good excuse if someone ever saw me eating Funyuns.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Banana Racing

Brooke sent me a picture this morning that made my day. I guess there's a 4th of July festival at Lake St. Clair where they have Banana Racing, which involves monkeys racing on dogback.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Have You Seen This?

I was watching an episode of Wipeout with Joe & Carrie and their kids (which is totally my guilty pleasure, btw–people getting punched in the groin while commentators shamelessly pun away) and happened upon this new commercial for the 2011 Jeep Grand Cheroke. I'm in love.

After seeing that commercial, I felt patriotic. It made me want to watch the U.S. play again in the World Cup and made feel like I'd never not buy American again. I was gonna throw in another double-negative, but I wasn't positive how exactly to pull it off.

Then I saw this sexy thing. It made me excited to know I could buy American and still get 31 MPG. I want that.

And, of course, the post wouldn't be complete without a clip of Wipeout.

P.S. I was looking on Ford's web site and saw a funny clip comparing the Ford Fiesta with the Lamborghini. I like the look of the girl's face when the Lamborghini beats the Fiesta on the straightaway.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Drew Brees! Look Harder! Brees is Tricky!

The new commercial for the 2010 ESPY awards made me laugh out loud. Whoever came up with this idea was a genius. I love it when Seth Meyers is telling the guy with the spotlight to find Drew Brees and Drew Brees is hiding behind one of the seats. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Homeless Bob

I was looking through some old e-mails and I found some nuggets of nostalgia. It took me down memory lane when I read some of the things I had written about before my mission. I thought you'd all enjoy little tale about the time I got locked out of my apartment and slept at Beto's.

December 2, 2004

Well, once upon a yesterday, I drove over to my brother Joe's house in Herriman--it's about half-way between P-Town and Slick City--to play Halo 2 with him. Do you know what Halo 2 is? It's a game on the XBOX invented for male bonding.

Anyway, the hours kept on slipping and slipping away. Pretty soon, before we knew it, 2 o'clock in the morning passed us by. "I'd better go," I told my brother. He asked if I wanted to spend the night, but I didn't want to risk it because I had to return my sister's car early and I had an appointment.

As I was leaving, I realized that I didn't have my keys to my apartment, but I figured I'd just chance it, because I'd gotten home around 1 am before and people were still up. I even thought to call my roommate to tell him to keep the door unlocked, but, foolishly, I just turned up the radio and started the arduous thirty minute trek back to P-Vo.

When I arrived, I noticed there were no lights on in the Colony (my apt complex). Hmmm...strange...but then again, maybe not; because, like Matchbox 20 so eloquently sang, "It's 3 a.m., I must be lonely." And lonely I was, with only the haunting blue glow of the "Office" sign.

Sure enough, when I walked up to my apartment door, it was locked. Now my preplanned plan of attack kicked in. I knew that if something like this were to happen that I'd have to figure out what to do (that was the preplanned plan). So, I contemplated calling my roommate because he'd probably just barely gone to bed. Then I thought about calling my sister's boyfriend (who is also a roommate). If I called him I could just say, "If you want to be in this family you've got to start making some sacrifices."

Well, I ended up just looking at the clock and realizing that it was about 3:20 by the time I'd checked the screens and everything. I thought, "Hey, my roommates are going to be getting up in about three hours anyway. Maybe I'll just sleep in my car!" Einstein would've been proud of that idea. So, I went back to my car, the crappy Ford Escort, to initiate my sound slumber. I didn't have a blanket, so I thought I'd warm up the car a little.

After I had had the heater on for a little while I turned it off and took off my coat and used it as a blanket and wrapped my scarf around my head like a ninja. Yeah, I think it maybe took 30 seconds until I could see my breath again. It was pretty much the coldest night that I know of.

So, I realized that I was up a creek. I thought about calling my roommate, but by this time it was almost four. So, I did what any person would've done in my situation and I decided that I would go to Del Taco and buy a taco and that after I had finished it, I would pretend that the food was so delicious that I just decided to take a little nap to help my recover from my 39 cent meal. Well, much to my chagrin, the mop guy at the restaurant was apparently on to me because he locked the door whilst he mopped about, cleaning the floor of the restaurant and listening to music.

Next stop, Beto's. I pulled up and walked inside the restaurant only to see a homeless guy already sleeping in the corner booth. I guess my idea wasn't so original. I knew that if I fell asleep too that Paco and Juan, the guys working at the counter, would be on to us. So, I just ordered a breakfast burrito and took my sweet time savoring the taste of the food and the warmth of warmth--I'd forgotten what warmth felt like.

I didn't really feel comfortable sleeping at Beto's because there was graffiti all over the seats and all over the bathroom. Plus, I had a $50 bill in my pocket and I didn't trust Homeless John Doe over there in the corner booth. So, I went across the street to the Macy's grocery store to have a looksy.

I walked in and went over to that place in grocery stores where they sell fried chicken or potato logs or whatever, and they had some booths over there. I thought maybe I'd pull a fast one on the employees, but that felt weird too. That's just not me, looking for a place to sleep. So, I just bought some Jone's Soda and left.

Well, by this time it was well into the morning. I think it was about 4:45. So, I just decided that I would sleep in my car for one hour and then I would check my apartment to see if it was open and if it wasn't, I would drive up to BYU's campus and sleep in one of the buildings because they open at six.

Ah, such desperate measures taken, when I really should've just called my roommate.

Anyway, I had a nice, one-hour power nap in the fetal position with my coat draped over what it would drape. It was so frigid! When I woke up at six, I got out of the car and reached into my pocket for my car keys to lock the door, only to find my apartment keys were in my pocket all along! No, that's a lie. I just thought I'd see if you were paying attention. But, my apartment door was open at 6 o'clock. Who in the heck gets up that early? Not me, I just stay up.

A Job With Orange Soda

I started a job as a marketing intern for Orange Soda last week. It has been a really fun experience so far. They do online marketing and search engine optimization for a bunch of small- and medium-sized clients around the country. It's been nice having a job in American Fork instead of having to commute to Salt Lake every day.

Every time the U.S. is playing in the World Cup work unofficially shuts down for a little bit. I've tried to stay focused in my cube, but I'm always wondering what is going on and rely on the audible cheers of the people around the office to stay informed on the score. My favorite thing is hearing delayed reactions from people watching it on different sites.

On Wednesdays at Orange Soda we have muffin day. A catering place brings in warm muffins in the morning and we get to pick between chocolate, cinnamon, banana, and bacon & asiago muffins. Mmmmm....that's what I call good bran management. Anyway, all of this talk about food reminded me that my lunch break is almost over. I've got a lot of fun stuff to share, though, so stay tuned!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Out of Breath

My roommate showed me this clip yesterday of a weatherman who can't quite finish the weather forecast because he's out of breath. I thought you'd all appreciate seeing it.

Whenever I see someone that out of breath my mind always wanders back to the wheezing wolf in Sword in the Stone. You can see it right at the end of the clip here:

While I was looking at videos with my roommate we also stumbled upon this gem. This is a bunch of European kids at a park that decided to start spinning a table at a park with a bullet bike. I can't tell if it's real or fake, but the music at the end is awesome!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Guess Again

For all of my life, but especially in the past few weeks, I've been a bad guesser. I push on doors when I'm supposed to pull; I try to predict which elevator will respond to the beckoning push of the button; I lock the car door instead of unlocking it; I accidentally walk into the wrong restroom (only twice, but still); I switch answers before turning in tests; I try to dress myself before looking outside or checking out the forecast; and don't even get me started on my track record with paper, rock, scissors. I'm wrong about 77% of the time, every time.

Okay, so I'm not that bad, but I'm wrong enough that I've started to notice it. The latest guessing gamble has come when faced with the formidable lotion-soap duo while washing my hands. If I'm not consciously observing the opacity of the two bottles, chances are, I'll squirt lotion onto my hands. Fail.

Usually, I'll notice the blunder immediately after pumping the lotion; but, on occasion, I have been known to rub lotion all over my hands, only to find that the running water is powerless against lotiony hands.

Friday, April 23, 2010

The Final Final

On Wednesday evening I went to to the testing center at BYU to take my last test before graduation. I had shaved the day before, but apparently it wasn't good enough, because the girl behind the counter who gave me my test said, "Oh, and make sure you shave next time."

"There's not gonna be a next time," I said smugly.

Then, I took my last final exam and got a 92%, which was good enough to merit the flashing "Congratulations" next to my student ID on the score monitor. I'm not going to lie. It felt good to do well on my last exam at BYU.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

What does my band sound like?

My band recorded a couple of songs this past weekend and I just got the rough mixes this week. I thought I would post a link to my band's facebook page so you can hear what we sound like. They're just rough recordings, but let me know what you think!

My favorite song to listen to is probably Love on the Line, then Overdue and Drowning.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

My Name is John Daker

A couple of weeks ago Mary sent me a link to this gem. I remembered it today as we sang "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" in Sacrament meeting. Everything about this video makes me laugh, especially John's eyebrows and facial expressions as he trudges on through his performance, despite not knowing any of the right lyrics.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Root Canals

Oh man, oh man, I hate root canals. I had one when I was a senior in high school and that was enough for me. But, tooth be told, life had something else in mind. On my mission that same tooth started to ache like crazy. When the aching intensified and caused my face to swell up and droop to one side, I knew it was time to find a dentist. So, I went to the dentist and he informed me that I needed a root canal.

"You seem to be mistaken," I said. "I have already had a root canal on that tooth."

"Oh, well, when you get a root canal there's a 1 in 10,000 chance you'll need to get another one," the dentist said. "It's called retreatment."

Why is it that I have yet to win a free iPod or TV, but when it comes to needing a second root canal it's winner winner chicken dinner?

As luck would have it, this past Friday one of my front teeth started to hurt. By Saturday morning I was in great pain and called the dentist and told him I needed a root canal, but he told me to wait until Monday.

So, today, I went in and the dentist said, "Yep, you need a root canal. Why don't you schedule a time to come in and get one."

The thing is, I wanted the root canal right then. I had known since Saturday that I needed a root canal because the feeling of needing one is unforgettable, so it was frustrating to go in on Monday, only to receive affirmation that I was right, and be told I would need to come back another day to get what I came for in the first place.

Whenever I have intense pain like this, I start to think about what I would trade to get rid of the pain. "I hardly ever use my right pinkie," I'll think. "I'd give up a pinkie to make it stop."

So, tomorrow morning I'll venture back to the dentist to get the root canal. Fortunately, if something goes wrong during the operation and I end up losing my front tooth, I can always salvage my smile with some rubber buckteeth.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Skid Row

Mike called me today and told me we might be opening for Skid Row. Gotta love the chain connected to the nose. Seeing these guys makes me feel inadequate as the singer of a band. I feel like my hair isn't long enough and that I need to make up a name like Sebestian Bach or Dave "The Snake" Sabo. What do you think my stage name should be?

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Wise Cracks

I've made some wise cracks during Sunday school the past couple of weeks as we've learned about Joseph of Egypt. The teachers in my ward know that they can count on me whenever we have a famine of comments, so they asked me a question last week after they had explained how Joseph didn't really get along with his siblings: "What are some things we can do when we're having trouble getting along with our siblings?"

"Well," I said, "when I'm having trouble with my siblings, I sometimes find it's helpful to just throw them in a pit and then sell them into slavery."

Then today they had me read Pharaoh's dream and then told me to explain the gist of the dream to the rest of the class. So, naturally, I couched my response with lyrics of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. "Seven years of bumper crops are on their way. Years of plenty, endless wheat and tons of hay..."

Thursday, March 25, 2010

It's not easy peeing green

Upon returning from Stake Conference I saw a plate of delectable looking brownies waiting by my door. I would have eaten them immediately were it not for the ominous anonymous note inscribed with the foreboding line "...I hope this helps you get rid of the blues..."

I waited for a couple of hours after Joe had eaten a couple brownies to verify they were not ex-lax laden. I didn't want to be awoken from my Sunday nap by a bout of raging diarrhea.

The brownies were delicious, but they were laced with methylene blue, a chemical that makes your pee turn blue. I didn't consume nearly as many brownies as Joe, so my pee was only green.

Apparently, every apartment of boys in the ward had similar plate at their doorstep as well. We were all duped together. One kid in the ward told me he went to the bathroom and didn't look down at the toilet until he was about to flush. When he saw the blue he thought one of his friends had put toilet cleaner in, but when he remembered that they don't even own toilet cleaner he started to get worried. Then he started to pees together the puzzle.

I thought the colorful ordeal would end with one emptying of the bladder, but it was not to be. And so, it continued until Tuesday. I'm thinking about making brownies for everyone in the ward this week and writing notes that say, "I heard you were feeling red..."

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The link is up

All right, so if you have time, I'd appreciate it if you would appreciate it if you would view this accounting video I made for my class. It would also be good if you could log into your YouTube account also give the video a good ranking so I can get extra credit. Thanks!

Accounting Videos on YouTube?

My information systems professor divided the class into groups and wanted each group to take a topic about internal auditing and make a short video to post on YouTube. The group with the most views will get extra credit, so at least there's some good news to go along with the bad news of broadcasting our nerdiness across the internet. Anyway, my professor is posting our videos tonight, so if you have a chance before Friday at noon, click on the link I'll post tonight so we can win.and if you have a YouTube account, give our video a good rating :)

I'm going to post the video we made right now. I tried to throw in as many puns and dumb jokes as I could to make it bearable. I thought we did a pretty good job with our subject matter, but we're still nerds. Anyway, enjoy at your own risk!

Blog Neglect

So, I've been horrible. I know. I get it. I've just been really busy. So has everyone else. I know. I get it. The good news is, I have a lot of funny stories to tell. But, before I get to that, here's a quick run-down on my life. Life is good. I graduate from BYU with my masters in accounting in just a couple of months, so it will be nice to not have to worry about homework ever again. After graduation I'm planning to go to San Francisco to see one of my old roommates get married (to a girl) and at the end of the summer I'm planning to go to the Philippines again with some friends who served missions there. It's looking like I'll start working for PwC in Chicago right after Labor Day, so I'll be moving out to Chicago in the near future. On the dating front, nothing exciting is happening. I'm not closer to marriage now than I was in high school. I'm not intentionally putting it off, I just make myself so busy that I don't take the time to date. I guess you could say I've been bad at posting blog entries for the same reason I've been bad at dating. Anyway, that's the low down on me as of late. Questions?

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Today is a palindrome!

It's probably because my name is Bob, but I always love a good palindrome when I see one–even when it's just the date. So, I thought I'd let you all know, so you could appreciate 01/02/2010 for being the same forwards and backwards.

My personal palindrome favorites are "race car" and "Go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog!" At least I think they're called palindromes...or are they conondromes?