How to Tie a Tie – In 5 Easy-NEVER

Any other girls ever curious about how to tie a tie? As a child, I was always fascinated watching my Dad magically turn a piece of oddly shaped cloth into a beautifully tied knot. I think because my Dad was a business man and not really the creative type – so seeing him whip the loose ends of the tie around so purposefully and artistically made me think he was some kind of secret artist I’d never heard of. (Because he was secret, you see.) You’d think with that much fascination that I would have been tying ties all my life like a mullafugga, right? Wrong. Tie knot instructions are lost on me. Let me take you through learning to tie a tie with me in “five easy steps.”

STEP ONE: “Cross the wide end over the narrow, then slip the wide end up between the tie and the collar, then simply drop it back down.”

My reaction to step one: I’m excited! —> “Oh yeah! I always wanted to do this… like professionally! Here’s my chance! Okay, concentrate!”

STEP TWO: “Wrap the wide end behind the narrow end from right to left.”

My thoughts: “Hmm I’ll read a few more steps and then find me a tie! Yes! This is gonna be awesome! I’ll be tying everyone’s ties! They will know me and my tie knots throughout the land! Gasp, maybe I’ll even invent a knot! HOLY CRAP!…”

STEP THREE: “Bring the wide end in front and over the loop between the collar and tie.”

My thoughts: “Eff this, I’m out.”

Then I go eat a bunch of chocolate and contemplate my life choices.

Not even sorry.

Luckily Smith can tie his own, or I can tie him a nice bow-like tie, as if it was intended for a present – which could totally work around the holidays.

Can you tie a tie? THEN SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET OUTTA MY FACE!

😉

Cordially Yours,

FU

If you’d like to learn to tie a tie, try Esquire (5 steps, in images like above).

Advertisements

The Rhinestone Cowboy

In my offline life, among other things, I am a singer. The first band I was hired to front was a country band.

Proof.

I did not know any country music at the time – but I learned quickly and grew to enjoy the genres. The manager of the band and I hit it off and became close friends. With that friendship, I learned all things country. There were rodeos, NASCAR races, George Straight concerts, moonshine, cowboy hats, front porch-pickin, boots… trailers, sexy lady mud flaps – it was country-tastic. On one of our many country-themed adventures, I was asked to accompany Tim (the manager) and his friends to “The Country Corral.” I inquired as to what the heck that even meant.

“What the hell kind of place is that?”

“Ah, it’s great! There’s a dance floor and it’t packed! We like to sit on the side and watch all the lady butts.”

“So, let me get this, you want me… to go to ‘The Corral’… and stand along the side and watch lady butts with you? MMMMmmm… nyew.”

“No, we just do that sometimes, you gotta go!”

So, after a bit of coaxing and bargaining, I agreed to go:

“Well if we get out there and I crack a window and hear banjos, just remember that you did that to your buttholes – not me.”

YEEHAW! (Click to buy these vintage notecards!)

The journey to The Country Corral was composed of 6 people: Myself, Tim, his bff Kevin, and Kevin brought his work friend, Slick. (Slick brought 2 work friends, that we lost at the door and I haven’t seen them since.) I don’t think “Slick” was his real name, but he answered to it and it was all I ever knew. Slick was an odd nickname to me, because “Slick” was a city boy – but by gawd, he was eating this country shit up with a spoon!

We arrived at the crowded door, and eventually made our way towards the bar. On our way, we saw it. The mechanical bull line. This was no country fair mechanical bull – this was a training bull, with a line of actual rodeo cowboys in wait.

“Look at that!” Shouted Slick

“Yeah buddy, I don’t think that’s for you tonight.” Said Tim

We found a table near the band and took a seat. Slick watched that bull all night from our camp. Slick also drank Goldschlager until he was so marble-mouthed, that I heard him introduce himself as “Shit” to some chick.

“They call me Schlitt”

It was about 12:15AM when Slick announced. “Sheyy evurybuday, *hiccups* I’m gonna dew et! I’ma ridin’ that bull!”

Yeah buddy.

Being a little tipsy ourselves, it sounded like a great idea at the time and we enthusiastically accompanied Slick over to the ride line. After a 30 minute wait amid buckles and boots – tennis shoe wearing slick finally got his turn. Slick was wobbly as hell on approach, jittering all over the bounce house-like fall mat floor. Slick eventually mounted the robo beast and the rodeo began. The bull went down, Slick snapped up. The bull went up, Slick slapped down on that shit like a sack of potatoes. Now, let me explain that Slick was wearing tight jeans. I think he thought they looked like cowboy jeans. But they did not have the same quality stitching, because when Slick’s ass smacked down on that bull – he split his jeans clean open. The entire inseam right down to the knee. It was like make shift denim short chaps with matching denim leg warmers. Kevin, Tim and I almost pissed ourselves laughing. Odder even, Slick didn’t know he was riding that bull in his panties until the end of the ride, where he was ultimately tossed head over foot 5 to 10 feet, exactly 4 seconds after the ride began.

Woaaaah, Nelly! (Click to buy this vintage notecard.)

After about 2 minutes of adrenaline detox, Slick noticed his jeans. Slick was pissed. Drunk Kevin and Tim then said, “Hey man! I think we can fix ’em up!” We retreated to the car where Tim whipped out a giant roll of duct tape from the trunk. (I’ve since learned that most boys are traveling with duct tape in their trunk. Duct tape to boys must be like extra shoes to girls.) Tim and Kevin then began to piece the jeans back together with the tape. By the end of it all, we retuned to The Country Corral dance floor with Slick and his new shiny silver jeans.

It’s worth noting that at about 3:45AM we were cutting said jeans off of Slick outside a Waffle House. Lots of beer and booze make permanent duct tape jeans a poor choice in apparel.

“We can stay up late, telling manly stories, then in the morning… I’m makin’ waffles!”

Pride! In the Name of Love!

U2 must love the shit outta some gay people. I can’t blame them, gay people are awesome.

If you are curious what the heck goes on at a gay pride festival, Google no more my friends! Smith and I (straight) have more gay friends than straight friends. We don’t quite know how that happened, but we are thankful for all of the gourmet foods we’ve been sampling, and good times we’ve been having as result thereof. I would strongly suggest that if you can whip up a few gay neighbors, to do so. You will have the best time at their barbecues. Think of it, every morning going to get the mail and running into an Anderson Cooper or an Ellen. Now, that can’t suck. Also, your property values will likely sky rocket, just from being in close vicinity to their meticulously groomed yards. Come to think of it, Gays might even get us out of the housing market crash altogether. Again, I can’t recommend getting some gay friends and neighbors enough.

There is nothing quite like a gay crowd that is ready to party. They are happy and loving and open to partying with anyone that wants to join – gay or straight. Pride, is a perfect example of that. We go with our friends every year- to celebrate them being them.

The PRIDE! Preparation:

First, I rainbowed my toes-

A rainbow a day keeps the blues away!

Next, I made and wore this sign to celebrate our gay friends out loud:

“My gay friends are so fabulous, they sweat glitter”

I made shirts for them that are the original saying: FU I’m So Fabulous, I sweat glitter tee for sale HERE

Then it was time to go to the parade. Like I said, they welcomed EVERYone to join in. To support this statement, there was a preachy hater man on the corner with a megaphone – yelling about the gay community being devils and going to hell. How does a gay person react to this? Several gay people tried to get a high-five from him. Now, if that isn’t an open reaction- I don’t know what is. My straight reaction was to show him my butthole, but gay people are so much more classier than I.

In the parade there were floats:

Silverman is Canadian? Who knew?

There were sailors:

Sailor aboard the Hamburger Mary’s float

There were representatives from Southwest Airlines:

The real reason airlines keep blankets on hand for the chills… cold captains.

There were British men in underwears:

I see your panties!

There were awesome politicians:

Alan Gray,SON!

There were dudes so happy they were holding their feet way up in the air:

Damn, that dude can flex!

As the sun went down, there were friends in twinkle lights:

Two of my lovelies ❤

There were live drumming DJ’s that made everyone party at the amphitheater:

Shake yo groove thangs!

There was a big gay rainbow fountain, that I tried to smuggle home with me:

Gay Eola fountain 😀

There were fireworks as we walked to our car that night:

BOOM!

There was also Debbie Gibson at 1am… I only made it ’til 8-ish before I needed to go eat gelato. Win some, lose some. Side note, I though Debbie was a drag queen* and was like “damn, that dude looks pretty good. I can hardly tell.” (That’s right, “hardly.”)

Note: If you are in the Orlando area, Pride! lasts ALL THIS WEEK. This was just the kick-off night. I told you gay people  know how to throw a party!

Click here to learn more about PRIDE -Orlando festivities on their site. Hope to see you there in 2013!

*In modern days I’ve learned that there’s a difference between transvestites and drag queens, not that it matters much – they’re both normally gorgeous and make me jealous of their beauty in some way or another. ❤

What the eff are people doing on Facebook?

Over the past few weeks, as I see various news feeds roll in on Facebook, I have noticed that almost any Friend you have on there can be summed up as follows.

Some are exactly as they are in person. These people shall, henceforth, be referred to as “The Bidens.” These are my favorite of Facebookers. They are exactly as they are in real life. They write as they would talk, they share online as they would if you were sitting next to them. In other words, they’re the shit, so take a big whiff.

(No these are not actual posts!)

Others are always depressed as shit about everything they ever post. I refer to this type of status update tactic as “Sad Clowning.” Mostly because I like to imagine they look like this as they muster up the will to type out their update:

“My feelings run so deep that they are falling out of my ass.”

Sometimes these Sad Clowns trick us into thinking they need help solving a problem, only to then give us 85 reasons why their problems are totally irrational unsolvable.

Pull up Sad Clowns, you’re in a nose dive.

It is important to not confuse these “Sad Clowns” with the equally negative “Yosemite Sams,” the latter are distinguished by being all fired up about something. A common phrase among Yosemites might be “research the facts!” (Even though the only “research” they’ve conducted themselves involves something they overheard someone saying, somewhere, at some point in time.) In short, most of their updates are about kicking something’s or someone’s ass – even though in person most of them can’t handle confrontations and kiss more butts than your average cigarette addict.

What in tar-nation?

Then there are those that are always full of shit, in every dang post, by gawd. This shall, henceforth, be referred to as “Over Swifting.” Most of their status updates are about how uniquely awesome they are, or some kind of quote insinuating that only *they* are smart enough to hold the keys to the secrets of life. (Even though you and I both know they have bad credit, an alcohol addiction and can’t pay their mortgage.)

“I AM SO MUCH MORE AWESOME THAN YOU!”

Lastly, there’s the ever-endearing “Douche Flute.” This type of Friend likes to post a shit-ton of pictures of themselves drinking alcohol or posing in their sexiest of manners. Please stop. No one should have to see your nipples that much.

100% Pure Beef!

I’d say of all the Facebook status update personalities, it’s a tie between the Over-Swifters and the Yosemites for who makes my ass twitch the most.

In conclusion, if you are on Facebook, please be more Biden. It is sure to pay off for you in life. Thank you.

~I’m FoghornUnicorn, and I approve this message.

Voicemail : You want some eggs? Part 1

So today I was greeted with this little gem. I could not have asked for a better Monday morning!

This is an actual message, left on my work’s answering machine. I have cut the first half of it off because it was just a typical work-related message, and contained personal information. That’s the only tampering I did. The recording picks up right where the funny part begins. It made me laugh so hard that I almost threw up, “In my pants.” (Rock of Ages reference there, but I digress.)

To explain what’s happening in the message: I think they must live in the same house because one picks up the phone while the other is leaving the voice mail. It instantly gave me flashbacks of being in school and talking to a boy or someone and your mom or siblings pick up the phone. Only, they didn’t seem to mind at all.

The only way I could think to share it on here was via youtube, there’s no video, just audio. I found, having listened to this 300 times today, that it’s best to listen to it with headphones so that you can hear exactly what they are saying to one another.

*Just listened to it again for the 301st time*

BAHAHAH OMG I think my favorite part is the:

“You want some eggs?”

“Well, if you make ’em lemme know REAL fast…”

“Oh gawd, I think I’m gonna puke…”

I hope this is how my best friend and I will be in the years to come… if we aren’t this way already!  I bet these two are a hoot to be around. Regardless, they MADE MY DAY! I just hope they feel better real soon.

Happy Monday Everyone!