Kids These Days....

Juicy: C'mon kids, get in line

*Here, Juicy eyes two 2nd grade boys looking straight at each other, and holding both of each others hands with their noses about two inches apart as one jokingly kisses/pecks at the other*

Juicy: Umm....line, guys, line...




Young Boy: Hey Juicy, do you want some fashion advice?
Juicy: Um...Sure, most of my friends seem to think I need it anyway. Go for it.
Young Boy: Well for starters, you shouldn't have any bumps on your head.
Juicy: Like, in my hair?
Young Boy: No, like on your face.
Juicy: Are you making fun of my acne?
Young Boy: Umm...Uhh...No.....
Juicy: Pshh. thanks. (That definitley killed my morning) Continue.
Young Boy: Well, you should paint one set of nails yellow, and the other orange, same on your toenails.
Juicy: OK, sure.
Young Boy: And you can keep those shorts, but you should wear highheels instead. And you should wear a shirt like this (a tube top). And you should wear lipstick, dark red lipstick.
Juicy: Umm...Ok that's pretty scandalous for camp but maybe another time.
Young Boy: Yeah, like if you want to get dressed up. Oh, and you should wear eyeshadow, black eyeshadow, and a brown purse with long dangly earrings, but keep your hair like that....What's scandalous?
Juicy: Uhh....bad, but not like your idea is bad, just like...racy. Tim [another councillor], any help here?
Tim: Sorry, you're on your own with that one.

(Here I lost the boy's attention, thank god)




*Young Girl and Juicy are playing a hand game*

Girl: Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack,
All dressed in black, black, black,
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons,
All down her back, back, back,
She asked her mother, mother, mother,
For fifty cents, cents, cents, to see the....ahh I forgot!

Juicy: Elephant?

Girl: No...Oh, I got it!

She asked her mother, mother, mother,
For fifty cents, cents, cents
To see the boys, boys, boys
drop their pants, pants, pants,
She got in trouble, trouble, trouble,
by Mrs. Bubble, bubble, bubble....

I wrote it myself!

Juicy: ...

Breaking News Memo- 7/ 21/ 2008

To Whom It May Concern,


As we all know, a decent percentage of our prime-time TV commercial slots are filled with adds for Sonic: A mysterious food chain, which, according to recently discovered shocking evidence ladies and gentlemen, might actually exist. It was a grueling search indeed (taking several groups of google keywords) and apparently we are not the only ones who often wonder "Where the hell is that place?" but we now, in fact, have an excellent reason to believe that a (supposedly) mediocre meal and drinks with creatively-crafted flavor shot combinations served to us retrostyle on rollerskates might just be that much closer.

And by that much closer, according to the newfound evidence, I mean approximatly three hours (four from the northern end of the state). It will be a quest indeed, but I have vowed that by the end of this year (or maybe even, with God's will, this summer) I will go to a Sonic and prove once and for all that their existance is not fiction, but fact. I know it will be a dangerous challenge, but the time has come to weed out the weaklings if that is the sacrafice required to once and for all turn theory to law. Be assured, a discovery of this calibur's implications will ricochet across all fields and far into the future for generations to come. In the name of Science, Men, who's with me?



A professional artist's interpretation of the mysterious food chain:


















All parties interested, please contact me via the 'comments' link below.

Sincerely yours,

Dr. Juicy, PhD.

This One Time, At Science Camp...

It seems that somehow while being put in charge of a group of elementary-school aged kids, I have also regressed to my earlier, simpler days. I eat a packed lunch from a colorful box, avoid large words, and find myself quietly lusting after someone I've had about three two-sentenced conversations with. (I'd try for more, but then he might know I like him!) Anyway, Here are some highlights from the week:



Councillor: Ok, what paint colors does this table want?

Young Boy: PINK!!!




Councillor : Why don't you go run around over there?

Young Boy: *runs over to light post and starts to hump it*

Young Girl: Hey, wanna know how I have a cat and don't have a cat at the same time?

Juicy: Um, was it in a box and did you talk to a man named Schrodinger?

Young Girl: *breaks into hysterical laughter*

(I still don't think she got it...)

The Search Continues....

Every now and then, I am reminded that being a lawyer is actually a cool, and very worthy profession. The usual thanks of course go to Law and Order (Though maybe a TV show isn't the best reason to choose a job, plus I don't think I have the balls to acutually be a cop) and in this case, two very interesting documentaries on VH1: "Sex: A Revolution" and "America: The Drug Years."



Not only do I highly reccomend them both to anyone who wants to gain a profound cultural insight into how far america has come in the past 50 years alone, but they also are an excellent reminder that The Man is exactly that- a singularity that can easily make mistakes, and who cares only for its own well being. Most of all, he is not to be trusted. For example, while America was attempting to crack down on Hippie drug use during the Vietnam war, the CIA was simultaneously trafficking herion by the shitload to appease eastern war lords, and it actually ended up in the hands of our soldiers themselves. While at first this was a legitimate way to deal with war stress (probably similar to what we're doing now with Prozac) at the height of the war an average of two soldiers were dying a day from overdoses- that's 1 in every four men of the entire army. Those who survived came back with serious addiction problems, and the CIA even helped them to smuggle heroin back to the US in body bags until the DEA was formed a few years later. Long story short- thanks to the government, we have heroin on our streets.



And heres a special snippet from "Sex: A Revolution" that really managed to get my blood boiling: At Cornell University in the 1950s, female students lived in proctored dormitories and had to always check in by 10:30 (no male visitors, of course) while the boys had no such limitations and could pretty much do as they pleased. Obviously this hits a soft spot for me (having had to deal with check-in for 3 years and still feeling a little deprived at a women's college) but it still makes me feel an incredible sense of relief that I'm growing up then and not now. I really think that kind of biased rule making is disgusting.

...And then I think to myself: But what if it still is? I take a lot for granted being a vagina-owner in America. If I were born in Africa I might have been forced to undergo a clitorectomy; If I were born in the conservative Middle East I would have had to remain subserviant to my husband and hide in a chidoor all day. And imagine the horrible things that go on in other countries? Yup, I think we've found at least one legitimate possible carreer path (aside from the small possibility of getting myself shot).

What's My Age Again?

Sorry for the lull, but they say boring life -> even more boring blogging, so I was at least trying to retain some form of quality control. Today however, we have some good news, and by saturday afternoon, we (or rather, I) I will have something even better.

Everyone, meet Baby. She looks something like this:

Brand new, five doors, Tiptronic transmission, lots of airbags, "Candy White" coloring, and, best of all, she's mine! All mine! (Technically the Padre's name is on the title so he can write it off as a company car, but you get the idea.) I even co-signed the lease so I could establish good credit. (This was the same week I actually got really excited about my new healthcare program...it was a bizarre experience). Anyway, there are only three conditions that govern my use of the car:

1. No using cell phone while driving (given)

2. Keep the car clean, and no smoking in the car (sure, why not)

3. No long distance driving until you are fully adjusted to the new car. This should take no more than a few weeks. (common sense)

In addition, Whether or not you get good grades next semester determines how much insurance you have to pay.

...Wait? What's this? Is Dad actually thinking like a reasonable, and perhaps, dare I say, liberal parent on something significant and relative to daily life? I was just about to near shit myself with joy, when this beautiful conversation took place:

Male Predecessor: You know, my girlfriend is worried about leaving you alone in the house for a week; we might not go on vacation.

Offspring: I'm sure she's not the only one with that concern...

Male Predecessor: Not necessarily, but it would be better if you had friends over so long as you don't trash the place.

... ... ... Seriously?

Indeed, there are some things in life so joyous there is only one way to react to them, and that is exactly what I did. I ran upstairs, and jumped on my bed.