Don’t Let The Future Cat Lady Plan Your Bridal Shower

Okay, I realize that many of my posts make me sound like embittered, bat-shit-crazy spinster-in-training. And this couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, I couldn't be happier with the way things are right now.

However, I'm starting to wonder if I was the best person to have been given the task of arranging the activities at one of my best friend’s upcoming bridal showers. It seems like a simple enough endeavor, sure. But after researching bridal shower games for, oh, about five minutes, I think I might throw my computer at someone’s face.

The first site I visited allowed users to contribute their own stellar suggestions for bridal shower games. What a great concept! Shiny, happy people sharing super fun ideas on how to keep bridal shower guests entertained! There’s just one small problem: most people are idiots and should not be allowed to share their ideas with anyone.

Like Maggie M., who was kind enough to lend us this flaming turd of a bridal game:

First kiss
contributed by Maggie M.
Everyone remembers their first kiss. The bride should start by telling the story of the first time she and her fiance kissed. Each guest can then tell their story of their first kiss with their husband or boyfriend. If there are younger guests, they can tell a story of how they imagine that their first kiss will be like. Everyone can vote on the most romantic story and the funniest!

Fantastic! Let’s all sit around and tell kissing stories. I’m sure my mom, who will be in attendance, will want to know exactly how many shots of tequila it took for me to assault a helpless guy’s face for the first time. I’m a shoo-in for most romantic! Oh, and sitting through twenty to thirty other guests’ stories will be a hoot! I’ll be ready to make out with the tailpipe of a Nova in no time!

We need something a little more exciting. Looks like Katherine S. has just the trick.

Hit the target
contributed by Katherine S.
This is a partner game. one person hold a roll of toilet paper between the knees. The other person holds a broom or stick between the knees while thier eyes are covered or blindfolded. The person with the toilet paper graps their partner hands and guide them to getting the stick in the hole of the toilet paper. The partners who does it in the fastest time wins. This can be done one at a time or pair up the partners to see who wins first.

What a delight! I can’t wait to see the bride’s grandmother simulating sex with a broomstick. What is wrong with you, Katherine (besides some obvious shortcomings in the spelling and grammar department)? I think you’re confusing “bridal shower games” with “scary swingers orgy icebreakers.”

The apron game
contributed by Melissa R.
Buy an apron and have the bridal party buy lots of utensils to pin on the apron. Make them practical and a couple of things they would never think of buying until they need them. Pin all of the items on the apron. Have the bride wear the apron in front of all of the guests. Have her walk around the room for about 2 minutes. Then have the bride go into another room and have the guests try to list as many things as they can remember seeing pinned to the brides apron. The person with the most wins! Then tell the bride she gets to keep the apron!!

Here, bride-to-be, have an apron covered in crap! It will help remind you that you’re trading your single life in for one of indentured domestic servitude. We’re also going to throw in a butter churner and an iron washboard. Thanks Melissa R., for setting womankind back about half a century.

Still, not the worst idea of the bunch. As you will see, that honor goes to Jammy.

Smell the herbs
contributed by jammy
Take 10 styrofoam cups and fill them with 10 different herbs. Place aluminum foil over the top with a small whole in the center. Pass around the cups and let everyone smell the herbs (no peeking) and whoever gets the most right wins.

WHAT? Smell the Herbs? Who gives a flying fecal bomb about herbs? What does smelling herbs have to do with weddings—or anything, for that matter? Who would find this kind of activity fun? Listen, my Gramma is about to turn 80 and I bet if someone tried to make her play “Smell the Herbs”, she’d go all kinds of Steven Segal crazy, flip the table of rosemary and thyme over, then tell everyone to man up for Beer Pong. I’ve never seen her drink beer, mind you (or flip a table over, for that matter) but I guarantee you that even my mild-mannered Gramma would have a violent reaction to a game that lame.

This isn’t perpetual-bridesmaid bitterness, folks. It can’t be! There’s no way in Hell that I’m the only one who thinks these are horrible, bridal-shower-ruining ideas undoubtedly created by terrorists.

Right?

New Trend In Body Art Or Sunscreen Applied By An Asshat?

Well, I'm back from vacation. In other news, I look like a giant goddamned Strawberry Creamsaver. Yes folks, here is the visual argument for why one shouldn't apply one's own sunscreen. It looks like I managed to get the front of my arms right before I drifted off into a margarita-induced mid-day coma on the beach.

Here's another look at my aptitude as a "self screener". Note the thin streaks of pale, sun-protected skin, where I apparently suffered a small seizure and just dribbled lotion haphazardly across the back of my arms. Then note the large red areas, where my skin feels like I slept naked in a leather-upholstered convertible parked in the seventh layer of hell.

And as the day turned into night, it got even worse...

Now that's a sunburn. But damn, does my ass look good in knee-length denim cutoffs!

So there you have it. I'm back in Cleveland and shedding Mini-Cooper-sized pieces of burnt flesh. This girl needs a giant Ped-Egg, stat! Fortunately it's a sweltering fifty degrees here, so I'm pretty well protected from further injury.

Hope you all had a good week while I was turning myself into human jerky!

Worthless!

That's what you're thinking, isn't it? This blog is worthless! Seven days and no posts? I'm calling shenanigans on Stephanie and this lousy excuse for an internet diary!

Yea, I'm sorry gang. It's been a hectic week. Oh, and next week? I'm on vacation. But before you soak your torches in kerosene, grab your pitchforks and start heading toward my house, know that I'm going to make a conscious effort to blog at least once or twice when I'm in sunny South Carolina. And maybe thrice.

So stay tuned. Well, in a couple of days, I mean. Like, a week or so. Maybe sooner. No promises, though.

Steph

Super. Can We Get That Cure For Cancer Now?

There seems to be a recent influx of offensively stupid inventions. The Ped-Egg, for example, which--from what I can tell--is nothing more than an ergonomic cheese grater for wonky-ass feet. If I never have to see some corn-riddled actress dumping eight ounces of skin leavings into a trashcan again, I will die happy.

But nothing could’ve prepared me for “Under-Ease: A New Generation of Protective Underwear for Flatulence.”

Let’s see…where to begin? First of all, is there an old generation of protective underwear for flatulence? How many other compulsive gas-passers have been dedicating their lives to creating fartproof undergarments before this particular butt-musician came up with Under-Ease?

That aside, how does one protect one’s drawers from flatulence? Because you can’t make shit like this up, people, I’m just going to copy and paste this from their website. I should note that I chose to make the font brown. It just felt like the right thing to do.

“Under-Ease are underwear for protection against bad human gas (malodorous flatus) and are made from a soft air-tight fabric (polyurethane-coated nylon). To maintain the air-tightness, elastic is sewn into the material around the waist and both legs.

A triangular "exit hole" for the flatus to be expelled is cut from the back of the air-tight underwear, near the bottom. This "exit hole" is covered with a "pocket" made of ordinary porous fabric sewn over the "exit hole". This unique design forces all expelled gas (flatus) out through the "pocket".

Inside the "pocket" is a high-functioning, replaceable filter - the core of the technology. This multi-layered filter is made in a sandwich-style, and begins with the two outer layers of wool felt. The second two layers are made of non-woven polypropylene and spun glass materials. In the center of the filter is a single layer of activated carbon.

The filter is then covered with soft ordinary material to allow for easy replacement in or out of the pocket. The underwear are washable and will last approximately a year depending on the frequency of use and laundering. Each filter will last from several weeks to several months depending on the frequency of use and laundering.”

Hot.

So essentially they are hermetically-sealed underwear that force

malodorous flatus to be released through a filter, which I’m assuming takes all the malodorousnosity out of it. But does it work? Just listen to some of these testimonials.

Betty writes: "They really are working for me, an answer to my prayers, because I like to wear them when I go out." Wow, Betty. Thanks for that completely vapid endorsement. How about eating less broccoli and praying for something useful like peace in the Middle East or something?

Imavis writes: "I am very pleased to tell you that the UNDER-EASE have arrived today (in China). It's very classy. The size fit me well. It's very helpful and brings joy and happiness! Thanks again. Allow me to offer my heartiest wishes.” Aw, that’s nice. But can someone please tell me what’s “classy” about underwear with a built-in fart portal?

P. Maher writes: "I am a circus performer and for years I have been embarrassed to pass gas on stage. People in the audience sometime think its part of the act but it isn't. Because of your wonderful product today my audience laughs at my gags and not my gas.” Great. Now if they could only invent something that takes away the embarrassment of being a circus performer.

My favorite has to be this visual testimonial of a guy completely filling his pajama pants with methane while his wife rests her head unnaturally close to his ass. His smile is so unbelievably wicked, it looks like he just got away with a presidential assassination.

Okay, moment of niceness: I must say for people with Crohn’s Disease or IBS, these are probably a really great thing. But I imagine there are more than a handful of people who wear these so they can continue to eat horribly and disseminate anal vapors without the hassle of having to leave the room.

I don’t want to make a stink or anything (HA! I had to do it. Shut up.) but now that we’ve found a convenient way to shave the dead flesh from our feet and a cure for rectal honks, can we get on that whole cancer/AIDS thing? That would be stupendous.