Probably should be at the top of the list of things you don’t want to put in your mouth:

They’re not only hideous, but deadly too.

I don’t care that she has two kids.
I don’t care that she’s addicted to…something.
I don’t care that she’s addicted to, well, a lot of things, most likely.
I don’t care if her and Tommy Lee both have a song by the same name: “Get Naked.”
I don’t care that her version isn’t accompanied by a music video with a strategically placed remote control.
I don’t care if the chorus of “Ooh Ooh Baby” is just her repeating the phrase, “you’re feeling me up.”
I don’t care if the album is laden with heavy effects and intense moaning.
I don’t care that Blackout is what having sex with robots probably sounds like.
I don’t care how god-awful her ratty extensions are.
I don’t care how uncomfortable the “Gimme More” video made me feel when I watched it in a conference room during a Sony BMG meeting.

All that matters is that Britney’s new album kinda makes me want to dance like I work at The Silver Bullet. After all, It’s Britney, Bitc— well, you know where I’m going with that.

i’ve dropped the blogging ball. i’ll use photos to catch you up.

we went on a boat cruise.
we danced.

they danced.

they …”danced.”

we pretended to be on the titanic.

thankfully, we were more prepared than them.

i was given leftovers.
(i love leftovers.)

i saw that yonder mountain string band.
(i didn’t love ymsb.)

Outdone by a friend:

Mike: The cute girl from my high school was working at the deli. I dont think i’d ever talked to her.
Me: Did you schmear her bagel?
Mike: She actually just matzohed my balls.

Touche.

When my friend’s away message is, “I fed a reindeer!”, it’s pretty clear that I’m doing something wrong.

Apparently, heaven is on earth — specifically, Rantoul, Illinois, which is the home to Hardy’s Reindeer Ranch. Yeah.

And not only do they have Reindeer tours, they have a corn maze SHAPED LIKE A DRAGON!!! It’s like a dreamland version of Curtis!

I don’t care who you are. If you have a car, you are required to take me here. Holy shit.

Reasons to be miserable:
We need to purchase music from now on.

Reasons to jump for joy:
The Office is officially our generation’s Star Trek. Or, well, our generation’s Star Trek: The Next Generation.

You know what it’s like to flip through someone’s sick Facebook album, glancing at someone’s pictures of hot girls, free drinks, celebrities, and other crazy shit that makes you think, “Jeez, I wish I was there!”?

That’s nothing like this.

Welcome to Awkward City, where I take you through the bizarre, uncomfortable, condescending and bluntly honest life i lead. For every time you do so something stupid (say, dropping your pulled pork sandwich in the dorm cafeteria), something dumber and even more pathetic happen to me (say, mistakenly telling Ryan Adams to his face that Billy Corgan’s show will be better than his.)

Enjoy your stay, friends. I’ll leave you with this; a Gmail away message quote from one of my sad co-workers who we will call…”sad co-worker”:

when you’re gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you

There’s a lot more crazy where that came from, too.

Awkward as always,
Carlye