Doughnuts Are Trying to Steal My Soul… Or At Least My Figure

In general, I try to be a fairly health-conscious person. I love fruits and veggies, I try not to eat too many cookies or over-indulge on French fries (French fries are pretty much my kryptonite) and I even get plenty of Vitamin C. But nothing seems to lure me into its cleverly woven web of ass-enlarging delectability, quite like a doughnut.

Now, the problem with doughnuts is their aroma. On a windy day, I'd bet the scent of a doughnut can travel at least a mile. 

I encountered this very issue this morning.

I was walking to my car after class, minding my own business, jammin’ to some Passion Pit, when I caught a whiff of that heavenly scent. The priority-shattering smell of fried dough imbued with layers of sugar and frosting.

There I stood, frozen in my tracks, keys in hand, eyes wide. I could just picture the glaze glistening in the sunlight like the first snow fall of winter. I’m pretty sure I may have started drooling at one point and people kept driving past, staring at me like I was completely insane for standing in the middle of the parking lot, apparently staring into space.

But they didn’t understand, the doughnuts were calling. It was time for do or die. My fight or flight response had kicked in and adrenaline was surging through my body. Do I fight the divine chorus of the doughnut’s call and continue to my car, or do I give in and let the wafting bouquet of butter and sugar carry me to the doughnut shop like a cartoon character seeking a pie?

Trying to think logically, I began weigh the pros and cons of a potential doughnut purchase. This, of course, lead to rationalizing such an egregious expenditure of calories. At this point, I’m pretty sure my brain no longer had any control of my actions what-so-ever and the doughnuts (or potential for doughnuts, anyway) had completely taken over my higher mental faculties and I was left with was the reptilian part of my brain that does little more than keep me breathing. And now all I could think about was how I was standing in the parking lot, reduced to Reptile-Brain-Girl. Then I realized how that sounds like a really lame super hero and how I couldn’t possible have any exciting or awesome superpowers, because I can’t even fight off the fucking doughnuts!

  Anyway, as the wind blew again, I was brought back to dough-nut or don’t-nut decision-making (yep, that totally just happened). “Just remember,” Doughnut’s mind-control powers say, “You went for a run yesterday and ate really well and went to bootcamp last night. You can totally afford a few extra calories.” Like one of those sneaky little shoulder-devil-shoulder-angel battles, except the angel overslept or is stuck in traffic and I’m left with shoulder-devil Doughnut making all the calls.

 

Well, needless to say, I caved and evil shoulder-doughnut won. I did, indeed, purchase two glorious, melt-in-your-mouth, sugar coated O’s of victory and satisfaction. You may have one this time, evil shoulder-doughnut, but you’d better sleep with one eye open; I know where you live.

To Theme or Not To Theme...

So I’m thinking maybe my blog needs a theme. I feel like if I had a theme, I could find my own niche in the humor blog-writing world, maybe, and I wouldn’t be like an über-poser or something else equally as lame. But I don’t know, because when presented with words like ‘theme’ my brain has a mini-seizure and dies a little more.

This is probably because words like “theme” also remind me of darker days. Like high school English class where you had to read really awesome books like The Sound and the Fury and your teacher asked you what the theme of the book was and to write some god-awful essay. And then you were like, “Ah shit, I totally didn’t finish that book,” because the first 50 pages didn’t have any punctuation and you thought “Well, maybe this is a joke, and instead this is actually an example of what NOT to do when you write a book,” and you couldn't imagine how on Earth Faulkner ever found a publisher, cause daaaamn dude, what’s your deal?!

Plus, I don’t know that I could even come up with a theme that isn’t already being used by someone probably a whole hell of a lot funnier than I am.  But maybe I could, and it would be totally awesome! And you guys would be like “Oh hellz yeah, that’s a fuckin’ sweet theme!”

Well, in the meantime, here’s a scene from ‘Despicable Me.’ It is, without a doubt, the best scene in the movie. So enjoy! 

Oh yeah, and y’all totally hit me up if you have any totally bitchin’ theme ideas.

As One My Friends Put It, I Am An Apple® Whore.

So maybe that statement is self explanatory and maybe it isn’t. Either way, when it come to all things Apple, I will do nearly anything short of selling my body and soul for Stevie’s latest creation.

I mean, I’m on that shit like a baby T-Rex on an archaeopteryx (that is of course when I have the money, which I rarely do). Never mind that this most recent technological marvel, as I perceive it, is probably only minutely different from the previous release. I mean, the number 4 is BIGGER than the number 3, so it must be BETTER! Right?! RIGHT?!

See how much better 4 is than 3! SEE!

Never mind that anything made by Jobs’ think-tank, including those stupid, little, white earbuds, (those effing earbuds that scream to others on the bus or the subway or before class, “Look at me! I OWN AN iPHONE! I am so amazing! Aren’t you jealous of me?! Well you should be! I mean, look at these glorious, white, wildly-symbolic headphones that tell everyone around me that I am better than you! They may not fit very well or have good sound quality, but at least they hurt my ears!”) cost about 50% more than virtually the same product from a different manufacturer.

Oh no, that well-constructed train of logic waves at me merrily as it skips right on by (that’s a fun image: trains skipping, chew on that one for a minute…) 

While you're pondering skipping trains, here's my depiction of 'Logic Train' waving.

Anyway, instead, my brain is content on allowing me to drool like one of Palov’s dogs as soon I hear the tinkling bell that is an Apple Reveal press conference. “Seriously,” brains says. “Logic?! Reason?! What possible use could those mere trifles have at a time like this?! You must have an iPad 2 or will surely suffer a horrible fate!”

Yes, I am hopelessly and shamelessly addicted to anything bearing that partially eaten fruit-of-the-gods.



But judge me not, dear friends, because I know a secret...

SO ARE YOU! 





P.S. I really do love Apple products. To me, they are of excellent quality and well-worth the cost. I just thought I'd take the opportunity to make fun of myself a bit. Because self-deprecating humor is always entertaining.

So I was gonna start a blog and then I didn't…and then I was going to do a photo blog…but I decided not to do that either, so now I’m doing a regular blog again, but it'll probably include pictures…But I did write a note on facebook that one time...

So two or three years ago, while I was still in college I decided I was going to start blogging. I don’t remember what prompted the decision or why it never really came to fruition, but needless to say, it didn’t. I’m sure my failure couldn’t possibly be attributed to utter laziness, I mean I’ve never fallen victim to network television marathons of Law & Order: SVU or become completely entrenched in a game of Halo: 2. God, no! I’d never! I don't even remember what I was going to supposedly blog about, most likely something incredibly awkward that, in all likelihood, I thought was f**king hilarious or clever, but undoubtedly wasn't.

Then, in another fit of sheer genius, I decided that I’d do a photo blog/journal with my photography. I had these great aspirations of taking weekend trips around the hill country or around Austin shooting breath-taking and thought-provoking pictures that my overly-confident little mind imagined people might actually want to purchase. This too never came to pass. Again, I'm sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the ever-increasing price of gas and the never-ending internal battle about whether to spend my money on said gas or on the weekly opportunity to go out clubbing. I mean gas or booze, who can choose between those?! But, being too embarrassed and/or lazy to actually publish my pictures to a permanent server, I settled for a photography-feedback site, allowing me to further feed my feelings of inadequacy, particularly in association with my skills as an artistic photographer, with criticisms from strangers in other states with whom I had no tangible connection. Plus, I saved money not buying gas for my fabulous photography trips or going clubbing because I was still to busy sitting on my couch watching SVU marathons, I mean, studying.

Now, I’ve decided that I have reached a stage in my life in which I am mature enough to recognize good ideas from bad (I mean, I am 25 after all, I’m practically withering away. Jesus!) and that I have reached a level of humor and wit that is only bound to diminish from here on out and am pursuing “regular ol’ “ blogging again. Maybe it’s funny and witty and clever and everything I imagine it will be…and maybe it’s not. But here it is, so f**k yeah bitches!