D-Baggin' It

Addendum:  I have removed a few names... but left spaces... you know, just in case I need to replace those names again.

Dear (any name from the following list)  you are dead to me.  You know why.  Love Love Love Love Love.. Love Love, more than I could even love a baby kitten, love,

~Me.

Andrew

Anthony

Blake

Brad

Bradley 

Brian

Bobby

Chris

Christopher

Conrad

Craig

Craig II

Danny

Daniel

Dave

Drew 

Jacob

James

Jarrod 

Jax

Jeremy 

Jim

Joe

John

Jon

Jordan

Josh

Joshua

Joseph 

Justin

Kevin

Marvin

Michael

Nathan

Richard

Ryan

Steve

William 

Zach

If your name is on this list, yes, there is a possibility it isn't you.... but it might be.  However, if your name is, oh, I don't know, something odd like, let's say, Jax, it is probably safe to say it is, in fact, you.  

For questions or possible typographical errors, please submit them to the following: whitney whitworth c/o whtnay@gmail.com.  Subject line should read, as in reference to the title, "Douche Bag" followed by your name.  Please see the following examples:

or

And no, I did not have to make out with you for you to be on this list... but it probably helped.

Business Ventures

Somedays I think to myself, "Whitney," (this is all internal dialog, of course) "what are you going to do today, or the rest of your life for that matter?", and for the most part, I don't actually ever intend to answer this question.  BUT, somedays I do answer that particular question, and on occasion, when the mood strikes, I Pinky and the Brain that shit- as in come up with hair-brained ideas that would never actually work.  

So what, pray tell, how is this relevant to the title of this blog?  Well... I don't really know.  I got distracted and lost my train of thought.  I'mma be moseyin' on through this post then, I reckon.  Let's get to it:  Businesses I would like to open:

1.) Drive Through Divorce Court: In Vegas.  Right next door to some sort of drive through chapel.  I think I would call it "I Don't" or "Un-Do".  The above text is pretty much self explanatory.

2.) Sensitive Subject Greeting Cards: This idea came to me when my younger brother first went to juvie.  I made him a card that looked like a four year old drew it with a marker on brightly colored construction paper.  On the outside there was a sunshine, happy and smiling and on the inside, that sunshine was locked behind bars.  The text read "It's sunny out here... too bad you're doing time".  There may be some cards that exist like this already, but I think it was the element of poorly drawn stick figures/objects that really pushed these cards to extreme levels.  Other cards that would be sold: Topics of teen pregnancy, "This is your new home" cards for when you put ma and pa in "special" housing due to old age, and so on.   You would probably find this store in a mall.

3.) Missing Pieces: This store would be dedicated to selling game pieces, pawns, cards, dice, and just about any game accouterments you could loose.  It wouldn't even sell the games, just the extra pieces.  Examples: Sorry™ pawns, Settler's of Catan™ roads, Clue™ cards, Scategories™ answer sheets, and so on.  Again, this store would be, more than likely, in a mall... but maybe online too.

4.) Speed Sitters: So, this would be a business venture, not a store, that would run on similar principles as speed dating, however, instead of matching up daters, it would match up parents and vermin.. I mean, children, with baby sitters.  

5.) And lastly, (and I am pretty sure Kleenex™ stole this idea from me and used it in one of their snot nosed commercials), The Conversation Booth: Kind of like confession, only no Hail Mary's.  This business would be best suited in airports- as it is there that I find people who are in all sorts of states of disarray as well as glee.  It would just be a booth where you pay per 15 minute intravals to just talk to someone who NEVER says anything back to you, as they are not therapists, but would probably have to have some sort of psychology degree.  

Work It Out

America, land of the free samples, home of the Atlanta Braves, but partial to child labor? Can it be? Let us recap, for a moment, the way in which children are being subjected to such practices.

Exhibit A: As summer approaches, many of America's youth take to the streets. But are lemonade stands as innocent as they seem? Or are they America's way of replacing those neon-yellow "children at play" yield signs with a more devious, dark, "children at work" variety...? The facts stand: hourly, a child lemonade stand attendant can make, ...well, as there are no formal studies done (at least none that pop-up on the first page of a google search), we will say tops $3 an hour. Usually, but not always, there are two children working the stand, which would mean these children are working under the metaphorical "lemonade table" for $1.50 an hour. Now, maybe they get tips every now and then, but I doubt those little rug-rats are reporting that on their W2's. Oh wait a minute, what's that? Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that this work is also unregulated and there are no w2 forms for filing. I vote on passing lemonade stand unions.

Exhibit B: Babysitting. From personal experience, I started babysitting when I was 1o years old. I think I worked for $5 an hour- but that was 13 years ago, I imagine prices have gone up... or have they? At any rate, this is a classic case of outsourcing; cutting away the professionals who need the job to support the bubble-gum habits of pre-teens. When qualified adults babysit, they are called "nannies", when unqualified kiddos do it, it is called child labor.

Exhibit C: Mowing lawns. Much like exhibit A, only with a higher going rate, due to the increased level of bodily harm. If there was ever a child labor union, they should see too it that lawn mowers (the workers, not the machines) get good medical and dental packages, for not only do they run the risk of bodily injury, but also heat stroke. And you may as well throw in dental, just in case a fight between two kid competitors breaks out over whose turf is whose to mow. On a side note, I feel that male youngsters are more commonly employed in this field than female youngsters. Let the union also see to change that.

Exhibit D: Finally, car washers. Can't we just leave this job to cheerleaders in string bikinis and *cough, cough* bros from the frat down the street wearing nothing but board shorts, backwards hats, okley's, and AE® flip-flops? Why take jobs from those who really, really need them?

One last note: I found this site which I have linked here. Can we call this monster.com/childlabor? Please?

Confession Booth

Dear Father, forgive me for I have sinned... sort of.

1.) During the summer between the third and fourth grade I was outside my house in Nowhere, MT, USA.  As I was saying, it was summer and I was out in the yard riding my bike when I heard an indescribable crunch.  I drove back around to discover that I had ran over a small mouse.  It was still kind of twitching, still barely alive, so instead of leaving it or putting it out of its misery, I took it inside my house and let it "live" in the doll house my grandfather built.  Needless to say, it died later that day, but I didn't want to move it, so it essentially rotted away in that doll house for about a week before I convinced my younger brother to get rid of it for me.  My mom still has that dollhouse and I managed not to get some sort of mouse flu.

2.) In the fourth grade, in Mrs. Laden's class, we were assigned to create calendar pieces for the upcoming month.  The directions were simple and clear: color in the object, cut it out, and put your name on the back.  I turned my piece in and then took another (as there were more days in the month to be completed than there were students).  Instead of completing this second piece as assigned, I turned it in uncolored, not cut out, and with "anonymous" written on the back, only, I couldn't spell so it read "annonimos" or something along those lines.  Mrs. Laden. was furious and threatened to punish the whole class if the author, who she hotly pointed out was a terrible speller, did not confess to their idea of a joke.  I, of course, did not confess and let this kid named Carl Tibbets take the fall for me.  For this he was punished and his privileges were taken away for the rest of the year.  I never bothered to correct the injustice.  Years  later I confessed to Carl that it was me but he had convinced himself otherwise and so I dropped the subject letting him believe his version of the events.

3.) I cried harder and for a longer period of time when my cat died than when my grandfather died.  He died when I was a senior in high school before Tripod- who died when I was in my senior year of college.  

4.) When I thought I was going to get fired at one of the retail locations that employed me, I decided to start giving every good-looking guy, elderly person, or friendly customer our employee discount on their purchases.  I wasn't even allowed access to the code to issue an employee purchase "technically" but I knew it and, thus, used it liberally.  

5.) I submitted artwork for a t-shirt design once in middle school.  However, the artwork was not original, seeing as I traced over it using computer paper and a box lamp.  And even though I didn't win, I was still a finalist.  In fact, two of "my works" were in the final 10. 

6.) Again, when I was a youngster, my family had several cats.  On occasion, one of our cats would have a litter of kittens.  I used to like to play this game with the baby kittens called "mama to the rescue" where I would remove one of the kitten s from the litter and hide it somewhere in the house and wait for the mama cat to come and find it.  I stopped playing that game after I hid one of the kittens on the book shelf and when the mama cat came to retrieve it, she dropped it on her way down.  Though the kitten was perfectly fine, I still felt really bad about it.

7.) It was the end of third grade and I decided to make a move on my year long crush.  I gave him a secret note at the end of school one day, as everyone was leaving their classrooms for the buses.  I told him it was a note from our teacher and not to open it until he got home.  He was with a group of friends and acted nonchalant and coy about the matter and began to open it, right there, in the presence of his friends and me.  It was at this point that I made a mad dash for the first open room I could find.  I hid in the boys bathroom (yes, the boys bathroom), as it was the closest thing, and I only had seconds to spare.  I heard him laughing, with his friends, in the distance.  I assume it was from the note's contents.  That afternoon, I stayed in the bathroom sobbing for a good 30 minutes until I was sure the coast was clear, because now I had not only spilled my guts to, oh, about 6 people, but also trapped myself in the boys bathroom.  I also missed my bus.  Since then, and it is because of this reason, that I have yet to make the first move on a boy.  

8.) I once had a secret, well, we'll call it "shrine" to a certain boy-bander in middle-school, though my friends and I all supposedly hated that type of music.  The shrine was in a shallow closet I had in my room, near my bed and was wall to wall, ceiling to floor covered with pictures from Tiger Beat types of magazines which I would also purchase in secret.  There may have also been some sort of candle in there... probably a tea-lite.  Incidentally, I also kept my science fair project in there, which were containers of moldy milk, arranged by date and how long they had been out of the refrigerator.  

Super Talents

I have recently given this a lot of thought.  

Definition:  Super talent: pronounced as it sounds- (n.)- to posses a talent that is beyond ordinary, somewhat useful, and achievable through practice and sound mind.  Not to be confused with "super powers", as super powers do not really exist and humans may find themselves incapable of achieving said goals.  Also, a super talent is not a trick... because tricks are for either kids or hookers, neither of which I am.  def. courtesy Whitney Whitworth™.

With that being stated, I give you a list of super talents that I wish I possessed.   Behold:

1.) Sliding across the hood of a car prior to entry on the drivers side.  Both neat-o and a time saver!  

So I tried to find a good video of this being attempted, but mostly I just found supposedly hilarious videos of people failing miserably, rap videos when I searched "hood slide", and some British kids making asses out of themselves.  This video is the best I could find.

2.) Being able to whistle really loudly by using my finger and thumb.  Also, if I could whistle melodically (think Paul Simon, Devotchka, or the 7 dwarves.), that would be acceptable.

UPDATE: I practiced whistling today with two fingers and am on my way to mastering it.  Right now I feel guilty for practicing in my room at 2:30 am whilst my roommates sleep.

3.) Extraordinary balance.  I would like nothing less than to have the balance abilities of a circus performer.  

4.) Be able to pull a table cloth from underneath the place settings and prepared food that lay on top of it.  This is a true classic, however, some people chose to forget about said party trick.  Might I say, I like this link a lot because it is done with an accent.  Every instructional video should be as such.  Crockery, crockery, crockery.

5.) Be able to parallel park in one smooth movement.  Though I am decent right now at parallel parking, I think there can always be some improvement.  I suppose this talent would be unnecessary should I chose to vanquish my car, which is a possibility.  It would also help if I had a mini...  

6.) Have the ability to open bottles with my teeth.  One of my friends can do this and I am insanely jealous because of this. 

7.) Equal ambidexterity in all endeavors.   

Attraction Oddities

Instead of listing for you everyone I have ever had a crush on (as the list would go on and on and on and on.... and on...), I have prepared, instead, a list of Celebrities that I am attracted to that I really shouldn't be.  Embarrassing?  But of course.  Pass as much judgement as you must, but everyone has their oddities.  Again, these are not those I have the biggest crushes on, just those I am most embarrassed about.

David Cross- Balding?  Yes.  Short?  Certainly.  Much older than I am?  Boy, is he ever. Sometimes we choose not who we love.

Rod Sterling- Considering he died 11 years before I was even born... I probably shouldn't be attracted to him, but I am.  What a dream boat, and such a gentleman too!

Likewise, I also have it bad for Jimmy Stewart- Heartthrob without an actual throbbing heart.  Two in a row.  Cha-ching.

Alan Rickman- Oh Alan Rickman, mine heart beat still.  Is it the dull drumming of your voice that calls my soul?  Alas, I must comply and let the monotony of your voice lull me to sleep.  

 

Franklin Pierce- I think I have already covered this once before.  If he was more than a mere oil painting, I'm sure more people would recognize this.  Now he's the type of dead president I could use on my money.  

Steve Martin- When I was younger, I used to picture Santa Clause a lot like Steve Martin, only if Steve Martin were pregnant.  I don't know the significance between the two or how they are correlated, but there must be some connection.

Steve Wiebe- For those who do not know, Steve Wiebe is the subject of a documentary called King of Kong: Fist Full of Quarters.  And that is precisely what makes Steve unique to this list.  But how could one not, after watching his heroic endeavors against the slimy Billy Mitchell?

Iron Chef Marimoto- No one knows.... no one knows.  

Oh, and I forgot Alton Brown, man about town.

O Hell-z No

As I commiserate on aspects of my current life- jobless, penniless, and unable to fall asleep/wake up at a decent hour- I find myself befuddled on where exactly I am on the charts; Dante's charts of hell, that is to say.  

Upon further inspection of said chart, I see not where my criteria of punishment lies, therefore, I can not pin-point where I have been led astray, making it near impossible for me to repent and "better" my living situation.  

Thus, I have been, inevitably, led to update the outdated and pick up where ol' Dante left off.  I have linked a recap of Dante's nine levels of hell here so you can freshen up on the old before proceeding to the new.

Circles 1-6 The Unfriendly:

1.) Limbo- Also known as Dillon Montana, also known as Dillrod.  

Who qualifies: High schoolers and the unbaptized.

2.) Eternally having very chapped lips during a violent wind storm while eating habanero chilies with no ChapStick® to be found.  Ever.

Who qualifies: Haters

3.) Forced to wrap oddly shaped Christmas gifts in wrapping paper, with only one hand, and the only tape one gets to use is clear packing tape.  For eternity. 

Who qualifies: Re-gifters   

4.) Living in a room that smells very strongly of burnt popcorn.

Who qualifies: Englishmen 

5.) Stuck in a room full of Dakota Fannings.

Who qualifies:  Friends who do their friends dirty- as in, wrong doers, back stabbers, and gossips.

6.) Running in circles over un-even terrain wearing two left shoes.... and a Juicy™ sweat suit.

Who qualifies:  Tanorexics 

Level 7 The Obnoxious:

7.) -Outer Ring: Having sunburns on the top of one's feet while being forced to wear too tight of shoes.

Who qualifies:  Budgers and Line Cutters.

-Inner Ring: Forced to eat Saltine Crackers™ with only peanut butter to wash it down with in the blaze of ten hot suns.

Who qualifies: Parents who let their children run amok in grocery stores, movie theaters and nice eateries.

Level 8 The Pushers:

8.) -Outer Ring:  Have to sleep, with out actually falling asleep, on a futon for the rest of eternity.

Who qualifies: Car salesmen

-Inner Ring: Eternally having to live (?) with fingernails and toe nails that have been clipped too short, so that they sting, all the while eternally washing breakfast dishes by hand.

Who qualifies: Dirty Politicians

And of course, the 9th and final level of Hell is a special place, reservation: 3.  This level is for:

9.) The Annoying: This is that special level in the inferno where three lucky mortals get to spend eternal damnation with the worst possible torture imaginable.  

1. Dave Coulier- Spends eternity listening to his own jokes on repeat 

2. Carrot Top- Also spends eternity listening to Dave Coulier's jokes on repeat

3. Hillary Duff- Teeth drilled upon with no novacaine.  Forever and ever.

Toys of My Past

Here are some toys from my past and how they could have been made better if only the manufacturers would have put a tiny bit more thought into, well, me.

1.) Furby: 

I think Furby could have been A LOT better if it would have been combined with other toy technology of the times.  Here's how: Furby + Gigapet= The results, which would be a Furby with the life-span of a gigapet, so when it started to get too annoying, you could just let it run its course.  Oh, also if it could say more intelligent phrases.  Instead of "Furby hungry" it could say, oh, I don't know, something along the lines of "If you don't feed Furby, Furby will call CPS on your bitch ass"...  

2.) Sky Dancers:

This one is easy, because everyone knows that the way to improve any toy of flight is to make sure the wings are actually some sort of blades of glory/throwing stars.  Sky dancers were fun to play with for no more than five seconds, at least with the addition of danger wings, fun might last until someone looses a finger.  

3.) Puppy Surprise/Kitty Surprise/Bunny Surprise:

My one wish for this toy was that the babies spawned from this toy were actually surprising.  I have a few ideas on how to make this happen: three legged kittens (a subject near to my heart), two headed puppies, the bunnies could give birth to squirrels or something.  But wait!  There is more.  Instead of simply opening up the Velcro® pouch and releasing the bundles of joy, you would have to dig through a placenta representation of goop (think Gac®™) to find your surprises.  This way you get two toys, baby animals and Gac®™.  More bang for your pets buck.

4.) Teddy Ruckspin:

I think Teddy Ruckspin had great potential in the early days to act as a sort of primitive TeeVo®. Imagine, if you will, instead of Teddy reading you stories, he would instead/in addition to, have the ability to recap (not a line by line bit, more like a 2 minute summation) a television show you may have missed.  I would also make the suggestion that his voice be turned into that of Gary Coleman if at all possible.  

5.) Street Sharks:

I propose that the toy itself not be changed, but the story line behind it be modified.  Instead of fighting other creatures, Street Sharks actually battle their arch enemies the Land Sharks- a group of big shot lawyers who try to "clean up the streets" by throwing innocent street kids in jail for crimes committed by the dirt bags of the corporate world and dirty politicians.  Street Sharks.

6.) Ribbon Dancer:

If the ribbons were actually sparklers, then maybe (but no guarantees) would Ribbon Dancers actually be cool.  Maybe if they were sparklers and also a fashionable belt afterwards.  I really tried here, but let's face it, there is no way to make Ribbon Dancing cool.

7.) And finally, Light Bright:

On second thought, this toy was perfect.  No changes necessary.  

Mothers Day 09

This one is dedicated to my mother- because I didn't get you a Mother's Day gift this year.  Sorry for the, er, belatsion (and yes, I just created that word.)  

This is a little special glimpse into my family life, which may be a rare opportunity, so cease this moment, cuddle up with your loved one, and get to know a little bit about a woman I call mom.  

And so, to celebrate my mother, I have compiled a list of my all time favorite moments... some may call them precious moments, in which she was livid, and I mean really angry.  Fond memories ma:  

1.) When I didn't clean my room- Only once did the threats of throwing all of my shit away if I didn't clean up my room ever come into fruition.  I refused to pick-up my room for two or so weeks in the fourth grade and one night my mother went into my room with a big black garbage bag.  The bag from the kitchen.  The bag with garbage water and banana peels and leftover sloppy joes in it.  I only rescued a few things on the top.  Even back then I wouldn't go dumpster diving, not even for my own things.  If you ask my current roommates, I am sure they would say that I still haven't learned my lesson.

2.) When my I learned to drive- When I was first learning to drive, my mother instructed me to pull into the gas station so she could buy cigarettes.  I overshot my right turn, drove the van up and onto the sidewalk, into a bunch of bushes and ruined her oil pan.  No pedestrians were harmed in the process.

3.) When the cat came back- Kali Nanna, our calico cat, had a batch of kittens: Milo, Honey, Jean, and Oreo Elvis Presley.  One day, with out informing my younger brother and me, she took the kittens down to the Co-Op gas station near our house, as it was there that they had a cage for "free" kittens (usually given away to farmers and ranchers to become field cats).  Michael and I came home from school, discovered this, and raced, our little hearts pounding, down to rescue these kittens.  We only managed to rescue Honey and Jean, Milo and O.E.P. had already been adopted.  I don't know which she was more angry at, my brother and me for bringing back two kittens she really didn't want, or the gas station for letting two kids freely take animals with out question.  Oddly enough she let us keep Honey and Jean after their rescue.  We never questioned this decision.  

4.) When my younger brother learned to drive

My brother learned to drive at a much younger age than I.... when he was 5.  My mom picked me up from a friends house and left my brother in the car.  Somehow, he managed to put the car in drive, drive through my friend's garage door, then throw the car into reverse and take out their fence.

5.) The Christmas pie incident

My younger brother was in pre-school, I was in kindergarten.  It was Christmas day and there was one piece of pie left over from dinner.  It was cherry pie.  My younger brother had saved it... not only saved it, but licked it and made sure he marked his territory.  Later that night he decided to consummate his pie lust- whipped cream and all- might I remind you, this was the last piece of dessert in our entire house, aside from the usual stocking candy.  For some reason my dad was in a bit of a mood and decided to get rid of our Christmas tree post haste- incidentally dragging the tree over the cherry pie right as my brother was abut to chomp on the first bite.  No bites were had, but plenty of tears were and my mother was furious at my dad for "ruining" Christmas for everyone.   

And finally, my all time favorite moment when my mother was pissed off, I call this one

6.) The video: 

For sake of protection for the parties involved (i.e. my younger brother- gosh he is in a lot of these stories- and his friend Nathan), I am going to simplify this story.. you'll get the idea.

-This is from the perspective of my friend Kristin and I while watching the incident at a safe distance at the park across the field from our house:

1. Mom Comes Home- Kristin and I see van slowly pulling up the long drive way to our house, we have no time to reach the parties (my 10 year old brother and his friend) inside the house before she gets there first.

2. Mom enters house

3. Moments later, mom leaves the house carrying video

4. Mom steps on video.... over, and over, and over again

5. Mom throws said video in our dumpster

6. Nathan begs my mom not to tell his mom

7. Van drives rapidly away from house- where to?  I do not know.

The Bachelor Game

So, as many of you may know (or should), James Buchanan was the only US President to have been a bachelor, not only his entire career, but also his entire life.

And for the record, I have been thinking about this for a long time.

So, let's get to the point. A little bit about our Bachelor:

James Buchanan Jr. was born in a little town (weren't they all back then) in Pennsylvania in a log cabin. Possibly one of the worst presidents the USA has ever had to offer because of the poor condition his country was in leading up to the famous Civil War of the United States, poor James found himself hated, and probably single because of it. Perhaps if he would have had a good woman to help him in this time of crisis, his yin to his yang, his ham to his rye, his Hillary to his Bill, things would have faired better for Mr. Buchanan. So let's welcome the ladies shall we?

Contestant Number 1.)

Known for her work with civil rights and feminism, her ability to make friends with people who count and will some day change the world and face of politics, and her uncanny ability to know that her right side is indeed her best side for photographing/portraits/coins:

Susan B Anthony

Contestant Number 2.)

Born into a well connected family with bling-bling and status symbols, this young heart throb (and if you go into battle, you better make sure she is there to check yours) worked to pioneer the nursing field as well as to push her works into the field of mathematics. This "Lady with the Lamp" might just set your heart aflame:

Florence Nightingale

Contestant Number 3.)

Though a little scrawny and a bit reclusive, don't let this self-proclaimed "Nobody" fool you. This spit fire poet enjoys sentimental conversations, Shakespeare and getting caught in the rain:

Emily Dickinson

Contestant Number 4.)

Who doesn't like a woman of mystery? Little is known about this siren except that she lived during that 1950s in Ohio and was a hottie with style:

This Lady

So there you have it. I don't know what Buchanan's problem was, because the dating scene back in the day was prime for the picking.