Doppelganger Week

As you may already know from reading certain previous posts, I am very committed to keeping up with the latest Facebook fads. Well, this week, apparently it's 'Doppelganger Week'. In case you've never heard of this, it's where you post a picture of the celebrity you are told you resemble as your default picture.

After noticing friend after friend participating in this trend, I decided to try it out too. Well, the only problem is I've never actually been told that I look like any specific celebrity. This is definitely a bit disheartening as celebrities are usually very pretty or good-looking.

I decided to resort to one of those online Celebrity Face Recognition generators to boost my self esteem.

BAD IDEA.

Just when I think I am secure enough in my femininity, I upload my picture only to find this:

 

Yes, that's right. Apparently my face resembles that of the famous Hip Hop artist 50 Cent.

...I don't think I've ever been so baffled in my life. Just when I was convinced that I was a mostly estrogen-filled white chick, I learn that I am a macho muscular black man.

Someone is confused, here. Either I'm being Punked or I'm wearing the wrong undergarments... but I really, really hope it's the latter. I've secretly always wanted to sport some rockin' boxershorts.

Holding Hands for Grace

Reader, I've got something that has been bothering me for the past 21 years and I'm quite sure that it will be an ongoing struggle for me for the rest of my life.

Holding hands for Grace.

I know that holding hands during prayer to God symbolizes connecting with our family while thanking God for the food He provided for us. I understand that. I support that way of thinking. I mean, I get it.

But...it's icky.

Reader, the last thing I want to do during cold and flu season and before I eat my meal is hold my hands with two other clammy hands. We're always taught to wash our hands before dinner. This is a good rule of thumb to go by, but why ruin those freshly-cleaned-with-liquid-soap hands and conjoin them with someone who just coughed into theirs? And...how do you get out of a situation like that?

Do I try honesty?

 "Let's join hands and pray."
"Um, no. Seriously, Linda? Coughing into your hand and then taking mine right before dinner? Do you think that's fooling anyone? Your germs + my hand = ruined dinner. Please cough into your elbow next time, you walking, talking germ donor. Nasty."

Hmm. Scratch that.

Do I lie?

"Let's join hands and pray."
"NO! You see, um, my hands hold this terrible disease. Anyone who touches them has a 23% chance of developing warts in unwanted places. Seriously. You don't mess with warts."

Not thinking God would like that either.

I've really thought this through, readers, and I have to say I have not yet come up with any sort of solution to this problem.

• Limiting yourself to just utensils might make you seem slightly obsessive if you're eating sandwiches.

• I don't think you can get any more obvious than whipping out the strongly scented hand sanitizer at the dinner table.
• Trusting that God really will bless this germ-infested food to your body takes some serious faith that I'm still trying to develop.
• And running to the bathroom after every prayer is unnatural and quite frankly just bizarre.
  

Honestly, readers, I don't mean to be rude to the people who want to hold my hand. I really don't. I'm just trying to balance my spirituality with my physical phobias and for some reason can't seem to make the two cooperate. 

Tomorrow right before dinner I'm going to wear two hand buzzers and see if they ever try to get me to touch them again. Will this cause an uproar? Probably. Permanent solution? I'm definitely thinkin'.

Potty Patch Commercial Review

Watch video before reading blog.



JUST when I think that infomercials can't get any more stupid, I am once again reminded not to overestimate American marketing.

To sum it up, what we've got here is a pretend grass turf, so that dogs have somewhere to relieve themselves if the owner is not able to take them outside. Seems pretty logical, right? WRONG. Let's just discuss a couple things here.

1) I'm creeped out by the guy at :05. Just wanted to throw that out there.

2) Skip up to about :08 where he says "Now dogs have a safe place to relieve themselves!" 
...What the heck? What's so unsafe about your backyard? Is a giant boogyman gonna come out of the bushes and attack the little pooch? I actually think that's more effective, anyway. A large monster man will probably make the dog pee right then and there, thus allowing the owner to call the dog back inside in half the time. That's genius. They should invent a dog-boogy man. Okay, that's dumb. But this commercial is not much better. Strike 1 for Potty Patch.

3) At :18, why the heck are they using a blender to pour the water? Just wondering.

4)  :46 Who needs a Potty Patch when your dog just licks up the mess when he's done making it? Beneficial ongoing cycle? I'm thinkin.

5) How about at :10? Uh huh. This looks all fine and dandy but this commercial is sexist, only featuring their female dogs. What about the male dogs who lift their leg? I'm wondering how pretty that nice little scented grass turf will be with pee stains all on the wall. You're definitely gonna need a fake tree now as well as the fake grass and maybe add in a fake fire hydrant while you're at it, just in case. Or, you could just LET THE THING OUTSIDE FOR A MINUTE. Strike 2 for Potty Patch.

5) Last but not least, Potty Patch conveniently ignores the biggest question that the viewers have. What happens when the dog has to go number 2? I don't care if you're the smartest dog in the world. You're gonna get confused if you're told to pee in one place and poo in another.

...Come to think of it... humans would get confused if they were told they had to pee in one place and poo in another.

...The dog is definitely gonna poop on the thing.

So really, all that convenience gets thrown out the window when you've got a difficult to clean, nasty poopy grass thing in your living room. Maybe I'm underestimating these puppies. But if a dog is smart enough to learn how to differentiate between peeing on grass inside and pooping on grass outside, you might as well train the thing to go on the toilet, flush, and wash its paws on the way out.

...Strike 3, and you're out, Potty Patch.

Inside a Woman's Purse

As a new year comes upon me, readers, I find it important to update my own appearance. This, for me, includes getting a new purse and cleaning out the old one. That being said, this blog update is actually for the guys. Many men I've talked to have expressed to me the fear they have of venturing inside a woman's purse. Some of them are convinced that something is living inside there and will eat them, some of them are scared of...erm...feminine things... and some of them simply fear the unknown.

Well today, reader, I'm going to take you on a fascinating journey inside the woman's purse. My purse, to be specific. I think this blog, though not yet written, will prove once and for all that the dudes have nothing to be scared of. I won't speak too soon, though. Let's see what we find. (Click pictures for bigger view.)

Mmm, Stride gum wrapper. (Thank you mommy, for the stocking stuffer.) I wonder if Stride will pay me for product placement for this one? Seriously. The three readers I have may now be convinced to buy some. Relatively normal as of now, right guys? 1 point for the ladies. Let's continue.

Ew. Okay, I admit. What used to be a cute hair piece has now turned ugly. I'm not sure what that brown stuff is, but I'm led to believe it is some sort of chocolate. That's what I get for throwing this into the bottom of the purse. I suppose it's time to throw this out. *sigh*, fine. 1 point for the guys.

A burnt out car headlight. Funny story on this one. Piece of advice for you: please make sure you took the connector off the original before you compare the new and old and assume that the auto-dealer man sold you the wrong sized bulb. Man, that was embarrassing.

Not sure to whom the point goes, here. On one hand, this is a pretty cool, masculine-like gadget that many dudes would be excited to find. On the other hand, it is a weird, almost intimidating thing to carry around in a purse. Let me think on this one.

Hmm, a fake 1 million dollar bill that also preaches the love of Jesus might be an odd thing to carry around in your purse. Though I can picture some robber stealing my purse and thinking he stole a huge amount of money only to potentially experience the biggest buzz kill of his life. Quite possibly a genius way to get back at any future robbers while also planting the seed of truth into his purse-stealing life. 1 point for me.

Oh, please. YOU HAVE ONE TOO. So it comes complete with some pink shaving gel and smells like Spa Breeze. It's still just a razor and I think this is one point for us just because it's prettier than yours. :o)

All right, fine. You win.

5 Sure Signs You Have a Facebook Addiction

I am about to make fun of myself, readers. Yes, you read that right. I, AJ, have an unhealthy obsession with Facebook and I am about to share with you the reasons I am sure of this.
The following have actually happened to me and left me shaking my head at myself. Observe:

You Know You're Addicted to Facebook WHEN...

1) You have tried to 'like' something in real life.
You've got it right, readers. I've done this. I've tried to officially 'like' something that I saw in real life. The other day I saw a chocolate cake sitting on our counter at home and I actually thought to myself, "AJ likes this." Delicious cake? Absolutely. Beside the point? Entirely.

2) Facebook is the first thing you check when you wake up and the last thing you read before bed.
One of the perks of having my computer in my bedroom is the fact that I can check it nonstop. I've literally woken up and checked my Facebook before heading to the bathroom in the morning, readers. I have yet to miss my chance, but let's pray it doesn't get to that point.

3) You check Facebook at parties.
That's right, and my friends never let me live it down. Behind me was air hockey, in front of me four of my friends were playing Rock Band, all around me was loud music, and in front of my facebook was my cell phone. Complete with the Facebook page which was of course easy to access because it's on my cell phone history.

4) You automatically type "Facebook" when all you meant to say was "face".
See above, reader, for an instant example of this.

5) You secretly like to meet new people because that's one more potential person to add to your friend list.
Am I proud of this? No. Do I still befriend people who are not on Facebook? Of course. Do I leave these new friends alone until they've created and/or added me on Facebook? Not a chance.

I know it's bad, readers. And I really wish I could change. I do. But right now I have to update my status about the nickel I just found and then convince my grandmother to get a Facebook. Until then readers, be kind but don't rewind.
<3AJ