If you were to ask Angie Noack: “Do you remember Kevin Endo?”, she might reply: “Kevin Endo…Kevin Endo… OH YEAH! THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE WHO THREW SAND IN MY EYE!”

That’s what I will always be to Angie Noack, and that is not the guy I wanted to be.

I got the “genius” idea from King of the Hill. (which is another regret I have: to have watched more than 30 seconds of King of the Hill.)

Here is what went down :

But not because Angie had a briefcase I needed. She was just in middle school Science with me. I got HER attention, and I yelled “Pocket Sand!” and threw a small amount of sand in her eyes. It was unprovoked. I think we were at the stage where we were making fun of each other in a friendly way, but that all changed very fast. Joke is over.

I didn’t get formally disciplined for this, oddly, but the guilt was enough. It was about 7 or 8 years ago. Why this was bad is because she had to GO HOME. AND GO TO THE EYE DOCTOR, AND TAKE EYEDROPS REGULARLY!

I am sorry, Angie. Should we ever meet again or not.

And kids, only use “pocket sand” against your worst enemies, not people you have science with.

Move Oscar to a recycling bin- it is 2009.

Have Burt and Ernie put their beds together. Again…it’s 2009.

Where the hell did Prarie Dawn go? She’s in this picture, but I could not find her on the website. Is she turning tricks in the Bronx? If not, bring her back.

Have Cookie Monster switch to eating carrot sticks or granola bars. Childhood obesity anyone?

Please get Elmo a prescription for Ritalin.

Have the Count start counting our nation’s deficit.

Burt could shave his unibrow.

Breathalize Grover before he goes zipping around with his cape.

***Side note- why can Grover fly and Big Bird can’t?***

 Real Fun Facts about Seseame Street:

 From the Sesame Street Website: Oscar’s “Likes” are:  Collecting junk, standing in line, rainy days and arguing.

**On a side note- these are my favorite things too.***

 From IMDB: Originally, the character of Snuffleupagus only ever interacted with Big Bird. He’d always come and go when no one else was around, and consequently no one ever believed Big Bird when he told them of his existence. The producers decided to reveal him to the other characters partially because they felt it was sending a bad message to children that adults will not believe them if they have something important to tell them.

Side note ***OMG- this explains so much from my early childhood. I had so much I wanted to tell you mom and dad,  and when I did, you din’t believe. You DIDN’T BELIEVE.

 From IMDB: Some old Bert and Ernie skits showed Ernie having his own bedroom instead of sharing a bedroom with Bert.

Side note ***Told ya…they just are progressing with the times.

 From IMDB: Unfortunately, some classic Muppets have been canned over the years for interesting reasons. Don Music, the piano player who would bang his head against the piano in frustration, had to be discontinued when kids at home started doing the same thing. Harvey Kneeslapper was discontinued because his signature laugh was too much of a strain on Frank Oz‘s vocal cords. Roosevelt Franklin, arguably one of the first breakthrough Sesame Street Muppets, had to go as he was considered to be a negative cultural stereotype (he was the only African American Muppet at the time and was seen mostly in detention after school). Professor Hastings, a teacher whose lectures were so dull that he’d put himself to sleep while he was giving them, was discontinued – because he was too dull.

 From IMDB: In 2004, Cookie Monster revealed that, before trying cookies for the first time, his name was Sid.

 Here’s to another 40 years of one of the best shows on Tv that deals with the Street…this and the Wire.  Both teach you life lessons, how to share, the consequences of stealing the stash, and both have made American TV a whole lot better.

Middle Schooler 1:”Dude, I’m almost as tall as him!”
Middle Schooler 2 :”You’re stupid dude, he is short. So who cares if your almost as tall as him even if he is an adult?”

My friend is like 5′ fucking 11”. That is fucking tall or almost average, dude. I am 5′ 9” so I must have dwarfism. Fuck Middle Schoolers.

So I decided to define them in the lexiconical (not a word) gem that is Urbandictionary.com. It might not get approved, but here it is. I think all the aggression of enduring Middle school and my douche peers and working with some of them poured out. I even mention scalping!

Enjoy:

Middle Schooler
n: a student currently enrolled in classes at a middle school. AKA little shithead or little motherfucker.

There is a stratification in type of the middle schooler, which might not classify them as a ‘little shithead’ or ‘little motherfucker’. These adolescents should be avoided or pitied, since they are experiencing the worst and most awkward period of their lives. middle school .

From their douchebaggy, bluetooth-wearing SUV-driving parents, they feel that the world is their oyster, and the general public will put up with their bullshit in the local mall. They exploit this fact, because murder is illegal in the United States.

Because they were “hot shit” in elementary school they disrespect all elders and authority figures at all times of their parasitic lives: Parents, school bus driver, teachers, and general public after their Moms drop them off at the mall.

Side fact: They don’t need a 100$ phone to text their “BFF”s. But they must have it or their parents are denying them a basic human right.

The typical middle schooler has emo hair  that is constantly in their eyes and contributes to their overall douchebaggery. Found in myspace pictures, usually taken by themselves, they include the obligatory pooched lip/peace sign posturing.

They continue to exist because murder is still illegal. At some point, a license to kill will be granted to hunt the middle schooler if proper permits are acquired.

EXAMPLE:

*you are walking in the mall and a laser pointer is suddenly shined on you. You freak out a little because you can’t “bat away” a laser, and because of 9/11 or whatever. You confront the culprits with their douche hair and north face jackets.*

You: “Uh, can you not do that?”

Middle Schooler Gaggle in mocking voice: “UHH DUHHH CAN YOU NOT DO THAT! HAHAHA!”

You: “Do I need to find security?”

Middle Schooler: “DO THAT, OLD MAN! MY DAD OWNS THIS MALL!”

You: ” I’m only 27, and you’re lucky that I can’t kill you little motherfuckers. Otherwise I would scalp the emo hair off your heads and feed it to you, then straight-up murder your asses.”

Middle Schooler Gaggle in mocking voice:” DUH HuH WHA I’M STUPID AND OLD HAHA!”

• What if Juliet had farted? Her and Romeo would never have gotten into the mess they did. Also know as death.
• What if the Muppets had never taken Manhattan?
• What if Lindsey Lohan didn’t think leggings were pants?
• What if the Jonas brothers got into a fight with the Hanson brothers?
• What if there wasn’t a hole in a doughnut?
• What if Harry had eaten the Henderson’s?
• What if Sarah Palin said something intelligent?
• What if Full House was still on? Would Uncle Jessie and Aunt Becky still live in the Attic?

“codger”

“pregnant anime girls family”

“anime girl pee pants pics”

“anime panty pooping”

“kelseyandkevin wordpress gay sex” (someone is messing with us on this one)

“fuck them”

I am glad someone found the blog by searching “fuck them”

You get the idea. Just imagine this model with 300 more pounds for a more accurate representation.

It’s just strange. It’s like a right of passage for this group, or a uniform. Do you think they all pack themselves into a bus once a month and have meetings? Should we be worried about uprising?

I believe that they love Mr. Pooh so damn much is because they identify with his key values and character traits:

• stupidity
• laziness
• love of honey
• hatred of wearing pants

The daily inner monologue of the Winnie follower to the idea of wearing pants: "Aww, do I hafta?"

As further evidence, let us review this scientific study of Winnie in his daily life:

As you can see, Winnie faces the perils of  a world that cannot accommodate his ass. He blatantly denies the idea of his ass being too big: NO NO, The problem comes from- ” not having front doors big enough.” This is why the airlines should be ashamed!  The average 350 lb.  lady( the picture of elegance) should nay be forced to purchase two seats: they should make the seats fit their asses, right?! For shame!….yeah.

I also found the commenter of the video named “afriendofbean” to be especially insightful. Not only are they analyzing this whole situation second by second, BUT- me thinks that they have been where Winnie has been:

“How did Rabbit know that Pooh was stuck just by looking at his bottom at 0:09? I’m sure he knew that Pooh was taking a while to get out of the hole but, sometimes it takes a few seconds to push your body through something in order for you to get your legs out and then jump out. (It looks like Rabbit was looking at Pooh the whole time as soon as he stuck his head through the hole at 0:03).”

Focusing in on the key elements:

“sometimes it takes a few seconds to push your body through something in order for you to get your legs out and then jump out.”

By “your body” they mean “my body” and by “through something” they mean “the doors of the city bus.”

When we log into wordpress to make our blogs here, we have the opportunity to see how many times it has been viewed on particular days.  It appears that it can be as high as 100 people or more are looking at this blog. I certainly don’t know 100 or more people, and they aren’t commenting on the immense hilarity of the Kevin and Kelsey dyad.  So it appears they are stumbling upon our blog, not finding what they are looking for, and moving on.

Thanks to wordpress magic, we can know what they are searching to accidentally find us:

Yesterday

This site sucks! Where are the girls with low self esteem?! where are the anime girls holding breast?! (not breasts, mind you)

It seems that my blog about the creeps who love to dress up/ masturbate to anime might be our biggest and most disappointed fans.

I don’t know what worries me more: the creepiness of “anime pregnant girl” or the grammatical incorrectness of “cat and me having sex”.  It should be ‘cat and I having s’… wait a second… what is this fool doing with a cat?

From Gawker.com

So I began to scramble to find another tropical destination for us to visit. I think that this “recession” is totally overblown because every flight somewhere warm was BOOKED, but finally with the help of a nice man at Costco Travel- props to you Patrick- we were headed off to the Grand Cayman Islands!

The Grand Cayman islands are amazing. One of the coolest things we did was swim with the stingrays! Below is a picture of Kyle and a ray. Um, I love Kyle’s face in this picture. It looks like the Stingray just whispered something sexy in his ear.

Kyle and Mark holding a Ray

So, on the Island, chickens run around. The first time we saw one, we were walking to a place called the Butterfly Farm and in a gas station parking lot, beneath the Texaco sign lay a mommy chicken and 3 little babies. Of course I ooed and awed over the chickens. The locals probably want to kill themselves over dumb blondes like me spazing about these fucking chickens. But it’s kinda crazy to be laying in bed in a Marriot overlooking the turquoise blue ocean and be woken up by a rooster crowing. (Several lived in a tree outside the main entrance.) So eventually you get used to them, (aka- you stop whipping out your camera every time you see one) and just pretend you are cool like the locals and make fun of other newcomers who pay attention to them.

The main island is a hodgepodge of cultures. Over 31 different nationalities call the island home. So there’s Italian food, Greek food, Mexican food, & Middle Eastern Food. And we really really liked this kabob shop down the street from our hotel. We ate there twice. The second time we saw a rape.

As we are waiting for our take-out a mama chicken and her babies are playfully running up and down the strip mall looking for things to eat. All of the sudden the mama chicken starts screaming and trying to scramble up on a Red Bull umbrella attached to a patio table. The babies started screaming for her. I’m trying to figure out what is going on, and then all of the sudden I see HIM. The Rooster Rapist. He starts chasing the babies and at this point I’m crying and begging Kyle to go chase the rooster away, but this thing was huge and had scary ass claws. The mama chicken hears her babies crying and leans over the umbrella’s edge to check on them and then she tumbles down to the ground. This of course is just what the Rooster Rapist wants. This is a pretty loud scene- there are feathers flying and loud bird noises, and this has awoken another Rooster Rapist. The first Rooster takes Mama chicken under a table and does his biz, and then she gets attacked by the second rooster. The baby chicks are crying, I am crying. I immediately plan on going home and writing letters to my congress people to ALLOW cock-fighting because they all appear to be assholes who deserve to die.

Our order is ready and we walk glumly back to the hotel and eat our chicken kabobs in silence contemplating how anyone can be so cruel to chickens.

At least 4 times a week I am walking into some form of spider web. I only work 5 minutes a week, and I get no pay.

For reals though. I like the outdoors. It happens on the trails I go to. Parks. This house, that house. I can’t get away.

Some part of my body– usually my goddamn face– touches a motherfucking spider web almost every day. Today I was just walking to my fucking home door. My home, bitch! Tell me spider, with your tiny tiny brain, why do your whole web building thing all night, jumping 10 feet back and forth to build a giant web across heavily traveled areas?! And when I break your shit up one day, you fucking do it again. You work all night with your craftsmanship.

And the feeling drives me up the goddamn wall. “Is there a fucking spider on me?!” is what’s running through my mind as I am frantically swiping my skin and head. It feels like it is never really off me, and I might have a hop-on.

You are welcome, America. I am demolishing spider webs for you, if only temporarily, with my face. I have the greater northwest covered.

And spiders,

I will fucking murder all of you. Destroy your homes, and burn your little childrens. It is on.

My math class is called “math for living” or something and it involves the least amount of math legally allowed. Essentially; it’s tight, fool.

This week, we are learning about obscure/completely outdated math systems from around the world. For when mummies arise and demand maths satisfaction.

There are about 10 out of 27 questions like this in the homework. “Use Egyptian Algorithm or multiplication properties to solve: 100*2.” or something

Or I could perform 100 times 2 and save myself 15 minutes. Thanks, math 107!

The highly-prized and popular "Russian Peasant" method