Friday, November 26, 2010

The Thanksgiving Shit Show

Last night got out of hand in so many ways. I wish I could share, but it was more of a "you had to be there" out of hand in order to not think we were all assholes.

Either way, it was the best Thanksgiving ever. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I got a little teary. I hosted my first turkey day with my room mate Aron, who oddly enough I met on twitter. You'd think this is strange, but with the amount of state/country hopping I've done the past few years, it's about par for finding room mates.

Anywhoodles. I hate Thanksgiving. I've never enjoyed it, and I usually view it as a chore. I'm un-American. But yesterday, I loved it for the first time. I got some awkward giggles about that during my opening speech, but that's cool. When you're moving every three months, you learn to appreciate good people when you find them, and we've got a pretty tight knit intern group in Boulder. I'm going to be pretty sad to see everyone go, but hopefully wherever I land next I'll find a new family.

I won't go into detail about the evening, I'll just leave you with a picture of how it started out and let your mind go from there.

Friday, September 3, 2010

There are no words

A copywriter @ CP+B has this up on her website- it's a real picture she took in a bowling alley. I can't stop laughing.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

For once, I agree with Jesus

Thanks Katie

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


YES! So I was talking to Mr. Hauser of the wining dining and lying blog aka law school food guy and for his fantastical four course meal on saturday we're going to be having fruit salad play doh as a course.

I can already see this evening may rival the 6-course evening with wine connoisseur John from Cuvee Cellars, after all, I am bringing him monogramed napkins courtesy of my mother.

Anyway, you'll be able to mix and roll your own fruit salad play doh. I plan on making mine into abstract, exotic, or erotic shapes. It'll be made from (we think) pureed juices, sugar, and butter- but we'll see how this all turns out.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

I do all my skinny dipping in Florida

For some reason, I have never done it anywhere else, but every time I go to Florida, it ends up happening.

But on to the trip. About a week ago, an old friend of mine said he'd be returning from Iraq where he's a contract fireman, and asked if I'd drive home with him... from Florida. He'd left his car in Panama City- so I got on a plane at 7am friday morning. We chilled on the beach, I explored the bar scene, went for a little dip, and by 11am the next day we were on the road running from russians to Alabama (long story... no worries, we're safe until she finds out where we live).

At one point, we all ended up naked in the pool. You would think this was the exciting part, but it wasn't, just a bunch of fools seeing how long they could hold their breath for.

However, when it was time to get out my friend and another guy were still in the pool, naked, hanging on to the ledge trying to poop in the pool. My friend was unsuccessful, and began to climb out when something caught his eye. The other fellow HAD been successful, and low and behold there was a giant deuce floating in the pool.

Upon arriving to Alabama I was introduced to a special driving-home tradition. Buying 15 McChickens from McDonalds. We pulled up to the drive through, ordered two smoothies and 15 McChickens. There was a small pause from the other side, while we sat giggling inside the car (its really funny to hear a 25 year old man giggle over McChickens), and again she asked "15 mcchickens" to which we responded yes, and i informed her I had a death wish.

13 hours later in Indiana, we were still eating the McChickens.

If you've never driven through Alabama at the height of summer, it's really beautiful. Ivy grows freely along the highway, taking over trees and rocks. It grows tall and pours off the tree tops. It could easily be very romantic place, and some of them looked like giraffes. There were giraffes in Panama City, but Nick didn't take me to the Zoo, which was sad.

A few days later I received a drunken phone call from Nick. He was at his mom's house getting some late night snacks. I could hear rustling, and I'll be damned if he wasn't eating 3 day old McChickens that had been sitting in the hot unairconditioned car for several hours.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Cat on a leash

Oh yes I did. Mr. The BRR Vonegut Urgo now has a skull and cross bones leash and collar. Now we can sit on the back porch without worrying his fate will be death by car while chasing squirrel. Although, my friend's dog once hung itself from his leash out a window... so lets hope that doesn't happen.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

A Butt Plug is the answer

For weeks now, government and oil company have been trying to figure out how to stop the massive amounts of oil from leaking all over the gulf.

Today, Mary Mishek and I have discovered the answer.

Get Taboo Taboo in Chicago to create the biggest butt plug ever- neon of course, because it has to be pretty.

This will do several things:

1) Most importantly, stop the oil from flowing
2) Create a new Guinness Book world record
3) Bring gays and straights together in a great alliance
4) Decorate the sea floor

"I think this is the MAIN reason why god invented the butt plug. He knew that BP would FUCK it up and he wanted everyone to come together and celebrate the butt plug for saving the world"
- mary mishek

When I win the lottery, I'm building a spite house.

I don't know who I plan on spiting, but I think it will add meaning to my life, and will give me a chuckle as I die.

Until I get bundles of money, I will have to settle for a spite fence, which isn't nearly as cool.

If you would like to visit a spite house, they are abundant on the east coast.

Definition (Wiki): A spite house is a building constructed or modified to irritate neighbors or other parties with land stakes. Spite houses often serve as obstructions, blocking out light or access to neighboring buildings, or as flamboyant symbols of defiance. Because long-term occupation is at best a secondary consideration, spite houses frequently sport strange and impractical structures.

Spite houses are much rarer than spite fences. This is partially attributable to the fact that modern building codes often prevent the construction of houses likely to impinge on neighbors' views or privacy.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Warning: A tad inappropriate.

Today I had a conversation with a friend, which evolved into me singing this impromptu song in public:

Yes my balls hang low,
they wobble too and froe,
I can tie them in a knot,
is it gay to tie them in a bow?

I can throw them over my shoulder,
Look for them if you're in Boulder.

Yes my balls! Hang! Low!

Monday, May 31, 2010

A Drag Show In Denver

This weekend, my cousin visited and I went to Denver for the second time. And I saw a drag show.

What led me to see this drag show, was my first trip to Denver. I worked the Cuervo Games for CPB. My job was to hang out with the teams and usher them from event to event.

The first round I had bar teams. One of them from the Retro Room, and the other from Charlies, both in Denver. Both teams told me to stop by sometime.

Now, the team from Charlies was a dude covered in tats, a huge grizzly long haired metal head, a short kinda geeky looking guy, and a guy who I thought was kind of cute. They told me Charlies was a country bar and there was line dancing.

Well now, who isn't up for an occasional drinking and line dancing? I said I'd love to visit.

A week later, I've been drinking at the Rockie's ball park with my cousin, and three of his friends. My female drinking partner and I have decided to chase down these free drinks at Charlies- the guys opting to not walk a mile to a bar, stayed by our hotel.

We get to Charlies after walking through a seedy neighborhood. We're greeted at the door by a cop and a large, flamboyant man. We step into the club and our met by the aroma of a tex mex buffet. Further exploration leads us to a packed room with a half naked wo/man dancing and lip syncing in the middle of the floor. I find a guy from my Cuervo Team and take a shot.

We continue to watch the show. I'm really amazed by singer number to, who was in full shemale dress and belting out a great number. I looked around in amusement at the beer bellied man wearing only black mesh, the cowboys wearing nothing but underwear, a cowboy hatt and an unbuttoned tshirt.

Despite discovering the 10th wonder of the world, there was a bit of disappointment in the evening. While I prefer the ladies who actually sang, some of the lip syncers were great, except for the last one- who, unlike the males dressed as females, was a female who was more male. She put on metro station, "sang" 'Shake It', and all she did was stand in the middle of the floor jumping up and down.

I was expecting so much more from her.

Eventually, we had to move on, but one more drink in me and Lauren and I would have been in the middle of the dance floor collecting dollars and lip syncing with the rest of them.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Side Effect # 12: Sudden Death

I think I should change my birth control. That doesn't seem healthy.

Monday, May 17, 2010

I tried to cut a carrot, it didn't work out in my finger's favor.

My boyfriend was swearing in the kitchen about how ghetto everything is. We have one pot, one pan, and stove top that may or may not work and is "off center" at best.

I'm not trusted with the actual cooking. I cooked once, forgot about the chicken, and since he's told me I tried to poison him with hockey pucks.

I AM a good cook I swear, but the hockey pucks won't seem to stop haunting me. And after today, well, I'm banned from the kitchen forever.

Back to the beginning- yelling from the kitchen, and I was banished to the table to cut carrots. Warned many times to be careful, I worked slowly.

And then a loud )(&%@FFSGLKHSGO*%*@*$%$ echoed through out the house, and blood was de-sanitizing everything in my path.

As I said, we're ghetto- we're only living here for ten weeks and we don't buy things others may call "necessities" - such as bandages. So I reach for the toilet paper. Yes, we have toilet paper in the kitchen.

I'm yelled at for using one of the few roles of toilet paper and bleeding on it, and given a paper towel. Then I spend 20 minutes watching my boyfriend cook, hearing "I JUST TOLD YOU to be careful", and being woozy on the couch, refusing to go get stitches as I bleed through the first paper towel.

No worries though, I'm not Kristyn Urgo- the cousin who slammed her finger in a car so hard it was out of commission for some time (I had to cut her food for her at Thanksgiving)- my finger is still mostly in tact.

Update: 5 days later. Took off my bandaid. Walked to CPB's bleachers. Look in my hand and wondered when my green ipod got red dots and streaks all over it.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Guy runs Boston Marathon with Cam on his head

While I think he could have chosen another song to play over and over again during this video, it is otherwise pretty cool (as well as my goal to race it 2011!). Might be best to just put it on mute and run some inspirational music from itunes.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

I would leave you for a Burrito

The headline for the article containing this ad said "Plausible: Woman Leaves Man for $5.47 Bag of McDonald's"

At first I laughed, and thought- that's so silly, who'd leave their man for McDonalds. Lame!

And then I remembered when I returned from Germany (a land devoid of mexican food) after three months. Three long months of talking to people about how much I miss Burritos. Yes, the amazing spicy Mexican dish. And what did I tell my boyfriend, for three solid months how I wanted him to drive me straight to Chipotle.

After about a month of this, he started telling me I love burritos more than him. He told me he would drive by me at the airport, throw a burrito at my face, and then leave. He said this would be my reaction, and honestly, I can't disagree.

after being smacked in face by burrito:
1) why is matt driving by!?!
3) Gobble burrito. num num num num.
4) Wait. where's matt?

So, I can't say this ad isn't completely plausible. Because I would leave you for a burrito.

Monday, May 3, 2010

You don't have to tell me twice. Actually, you do.

So I'm an idiot. This I realize. I've paid the price. Twice. In fact, as I sit here on the bleachers of Crispin Porter, I continue to pay the price. Heavily.

About three weeks ago, I went for a run on the Boulder Creek Path- it's a lovely path that winds up into the foothills, along a "Creek" which is actually more of a river-lette.

Now, we've heard of the fresh, delicious water from the colorado mountain springs. This made me assume that the water was unpolluted, and that drinking from one of these streams from the high tips of the mountains would be a fine experience.

It was hot, I was a half hour up the trail, and the water was tempting. So I went for it. For some reason I've always wanted to say I've drank from a river. I don't know why. The water was sweet and delicious, so I had a few handfuls, quenched my thirst and continued on my way.

Fast forward to 330am. I'm on the floor of my bathroom, puking loudly. My brand new room mate whom I had only met a week before awoke to my stomach's heaves and several flushings of the toilet. He did not fully get back to sleep.

A few days later I was talking to a girl who I went out with to dinner the day of my river drinking puking experience. She, took, had thrown up that night. We'd had fish for dinner, and I assumed it wasn't the water (which, that evening I was convinced I was dying because of a stupid thing I'd done), it was food poisoning.

Yesterday, I went for a 12 mile run with another Miami Ad Schoolite. She is not a person who drinks water- how she does it, I don't know. But I need water. I hadn't gotten a plastic gatorade bottle yet, and our ten miler the week before with my nalgene bottle killed my arms, so I decided I'd drink at the water fountains along the way.

The water fountains, despite it being May, were not turned on. We get to the fateful bend in the river where I had drank before, and I stopped to drink again while Kay made grossed out noises. But again, the water was cool and delicious. I drank up.

By my ten, I was heaving and trying my best to keep up with kay. When we finally finished, I swore I was going to throw up right there. We walked the half mile back to my apartment, where we chatted in my living room, while in my head i thought LEAVE SO I CAN PUKE. She wasn't out the door a half a second and my head was in the toilet.

I laid moaning and groaning in my bed for a few hours, and was -800 calories for the day because I couldnt get anything in my stomach. My dad told me something about amoebic dissentary where you have amoebas in your intestines.

After far to many stomach calming pills, I'm still fighting the need to stick my head in the toilets at crispin, and go wandering in search of the rumored bunk beds.

Hopefully I don't throw up any amoebas today.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

$5- The price of a beer.

Dear Family, Friends, Colleagues, Teachers and Random Passers By:

In the Fall of 2004, I received a phone call. It was from a good friend of mine from high school, he was a marine. and he'd been shot in Falluja. When he called me back, he'd already had several surgeries. A bullet had torn through his back, and exited through his stomach. The bones in his foot and leg were shattered. Thanks to wonderful doctors, and many surgeries, he has almost fully recovered, with the exception that it is difficult for him to run, and it was a long road back.

On October 31st I will be running the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington DC. I will be running for the charity Run for Wounded Warriors, which you can learn about here:

I will be running this race for him, and all the Marines I've known who have died, been wounded, or have served, but most especially:
Srgt. Andrew Curran

Srgt. James Flattery
Lnc. Crprl. Matthew DeMarco
Lnc. Crprl. Richard Setterstrom

Lnc. Crprl. Jeremy Ailes
Lnc. Crprl. Nicholas Ulloa

And many others in the Marines, Army, Navy, and Airforce.

My goal on that day is the run the race in 3:30- one minute slower than my time in Chicago two years ago, and enough time to qualify me for the Boston Marathon. I qualified for Boston in Chicago 2008, but due to two high grade stress fractures in my right leg, I was unable to run. It is my goal to qualify and finally run in 2011!

Please help support me in my cause. If I can get 100 people to donate just $5 I will raise the 500 dollars I need to participate, but my goal is $1000. I have started off with my own donation, so all I need is 99 more people!

Click here to donate and help me out :)

I appreciate everyone who donates for my cause, and passes this note on!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this!

+UPDATE Thanks everyone, I ended up raising $1,040!! I placed 131st out of 9,000 women with a Boston Qualifiying Time of 3:27. Here's a photo of me with a giant penis.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

My mother loves my cat more than me.

After my euroventure, I came almost immediately to Crispin Porter and Bogusky, in Boulder Colorado, but not after a quick stop in colorado.

Home was a quick 5 days. My parents were gone the whole time. My mother left me the longest list ever on how to take care of my cat- which she renamed after Bruce Springstein while I was gone.

I've had the cat for over a year, and when I went to Germany, and while I do the last two quarter in ad school, my mom is watching him for me. I don't think I'll ever get him back.

Now, my cat has replaced me in my mother's heart. You think this isn't true, but I can prove it. I hadn't seen my mother in over three months. When she arrived home from her Bermuda vacation, the first thing she did was ask where her cat was. I came bounding downstairs with him in my arms, ready to see my family after my long journey.

She immediately took the cat from my arms, and began cooing at him, asking if he missed her and if I'd treated him poorly.

Then she walked away.

I didn't receive a hug from my mother until I left for the airport the next day, but over my evening at home, I did hear her talking to him about how she would never leave him again, and on occasion I receive phone calls letting me know how he is doing- when he puts outside the litter box, and how he looks after the groomers.

As a joke, I created a facebook page for my cat when I left Minneapolis (so my room mate would know what he was up to)!/profile.php?id=100000342897132&ref=ts

My mom, who is friends with him, made sure that he friended all of her friends, and comments on his page more than anyone else.

Also, she has been known to sleep in my old bed with the cat, because my dad wouldn't allow him in their bed, and he would sit outside their door and meow all sad like.

So, at least if my mom loves my cat more than me, she loves him more than my dad too.

European adventure

Hello Dear Friends And Those Who Have Taken A Slight Interest In My Ramblings!

I am a horrible blogger. I admit it. I went on an 18 day extravaganza around europe and reported absolutely nothing.

Here is the jist:

-I visited 8 cities, and passed through many others.

-I slept on people's couches I have never met before- out of 18 nights, I only had to pay for 6.

-I drank a LOT of belgium beer.

- I drank so much Beligium beer, despite walking for 2-8 hours a day, plus running in the mornings, and not eating a whole lot, I still managed to gain weight.

-I met a man named Bruno, whom I drank belgium beer with and talked about genetics.

-Bruno bugs monks in the mountains, and gets cases of beer no one else can get a hold of, hides it in his basement, then has parties with it.

- After drinking belgium beer with Bruno, I climbed over the fence into an art exhibit that was about 50 blocks of cement with a red painted chair on each one. I sat on several of them and told Loren to take my picture. I broke one.

- After breaking one, I stood on a car and had my picture taken, and then I laid down in a cross walk, because I thought the picture would look cool there.

-I climbed some mountains and ate chocolate made of liquor.

-Tried absinthe in Hemmingway's favorite bar in barcelona shortly after witnessing either a robbery on the main street, or someone getting busted for selling a lot of drugs.

- I slept by an airport runway

- When Loren and I walked into our hostel room after climbing mountains old day, there was a really old man sleeping in his bed.

- A few nights later when I went to bed in a different hostel, there was a drunk man sleeping in my bed.

- I slept in a different bed, and woke up screaming OH MY GOD at 4:10 because I was haluci-dreaming and thought there was a spider as big as my head two feet from my nose. I ran from the room

- The next day I received an email from my friend who said "I had to wake up at 430am to catch my flight, but woke up to some obnoxious crazy girl screaming at 410am". This is how I know it was 410am when I woke up. I still have not told Loren it was me.

- Hi loren, I'm the crazy girl who woke up all 7 people screaming at 410am.

- I played Gollum in a really old castle. This meant hiding in corners in strange posses taking pictures.

- The part I enjoyed most about the castle was the torture room.

- My first morning in amsterdam, I woke up on the floor, on a deer skin.

- I found a Condomerie in Amsterdam- they make condoms to fit. They also have a cow shaped condom, and a statue of liberty condom, with spikes, that inflate when you cum.

- I found out that men pay the prostitutes in Amsterdam 50eu for anything. Women are only 30. Yes, feminism!

- When I'm drunk in London, I start speaking with a bad accent. When asked "But you aren't from Ireland" I said "No, I've been living in Germany" as if this makes it all better.

- I got my nose re-pierced in Camden Town in London. While the guy was doing it, he said I was the best person he ever had- incredibly calm, didn't even flinch. When he was putting in a larger ring, I passed out, my body was seizing, and he said I was staring at him, shaking with empty eyes. My friend wanted to throw up. She did not get her ear pierced after. So much for being the best victim ever.

- I met two people who met online, in different countries, through World of War Craft, and then got married.

- I met a catalyn man in Barcelonan hostel who told me and some other americans that he would take us a few hours outside the city up into the mountains and show us around. On the train out there we thought this could be the plot of Hostel 2. He gave us liquor chocolate. We thought this was a good idea too.

- I danced to a Tuna Band with a member of the band. He played his instrument really well. I was swooning. He was the best tambourine player ever.

- He later fell down from drinking 10 jaeger shots.

- I managed to go three weeks with out thinking about advertising. This was the biggest feat of the journey.

Monday, March 1, 2010

A whole lot of naked and a little Jennifer Anisten

While looking up body shop ads on youtube, I stumbled across this biblical wonderland. Watching, I still thought it was Body Shop, and wondered why it would be banned from T.V. I have a dirty mind, and so I was waiting for some naked or a raunchy sex scene. I still don't get why it's banned, but enjoy the fun little twist.

And if you really dig naked people, look at this ad for an airline company. Don't worry, I'm not ruining the end.

this isn't as great, but I enjoy it- it's quick and gives you a little chuckle

Friday, February 26, 2010


For an award show, my partner and I are doing something that involves coffins.

To really get a realist shot, I decided it would be best if we could actually photograph a coffin. Even better if we could photoshop the person we want in it. Even better if we could put the coffin on the street where we want it, with the person in it.

Germans, as it turns out, are not really into renting coffins. Very few people are, although I have heard there is a place in Ireland, and that it is popular in the US- though neither of this helps me out on the northern sea border of Deutscheland.

I am thinking that, instead of working the insane advertising hours, I can put my new knowledge to use, start up a Rent-A-Coffin company. Maybe calling it something clever like Coffin-O-Rama or, Das Casket Platz.

The recession isn't over, and it could be a great investment. I can see the print ads already, envision the ambient, practically touch the guerrilla.

After doing some research, and reading this google question- I think I can start renting casket carts as well:

My husband and I are planning home 'wakes'. we already have our caskets, but need to figure a way to get the caskets from our house to the van and then into the church when the time comes. We won't be working with a funeral home. Say one such cart on eBay, but it was almost $300.

There is obviously a lot of money in it. Contact me if you'd like to partner up, or perhaps have some caskets you aren't using.

You have bad taste in music.

Sometimes, you work on creating an campaign for LLoyd's where you have a guy telling people they are going to go to hell for not believing in the Olympics and prances around with signs claiming you are the devil.

And then you find out a guy did it much better. With music. And then you watch and you bow to him in all his infinite glory.

Wanted: Apartment With Toilet- Minus Duct Tape

I am looking for an apartment in Boulder, CO for the months of April-June while I'm at CP+B. I don't care who with- or who owns it, as long as it is girls. Because as I've learned in Hamburg, living with boys is a different creature. This is why:

My Current Toilet.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

The Eyes of Urgasm

Besides the fact the the blog is hysterical- this specific blog posting is about me, and I'm very pleased that my prank was so long lasting

Guten Grim

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Hug in a box

If you want one, I know where to get one.
In fact, I'll mail it to you...

Sexy People and Hugs

There is nothing I love better than feathers, leather, and mullets.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Inside you are your organs

Whenever I go to the Hauptbahnof (the main train station in hamburg), I always see a lot of interesting people. Mostly on Saturdays, but any day you could walk through it without stopping and see something weird.

Saturday I stood for about 5 minutes and I saw a girl dressed as a cat, a man wearing a black skirt trimmed with pink and a suit coat, two boys about the age of 9 or 10 with mullets that would rival anything in the 80's and 90's- I particularly loved the stripe down the left sides of their heads and how their hair matched each other's completely.

Then there was the woman you'd mistake for a bird. She had feathers flying off of everything- coat, hat, purse, shoes, earrings. It was like the tattooed leopard man.

Amidst all these... people who stand out... there are all the normal gents and ladies. While the others are weird on their outsides, I wonder about the people whose outsides are of ordinary appearance. What are they hiding on the inside?


While talking to my german room mate yesterday, I had an epiphany, which I remembered when I wrote my last post

if your mom is a mother fu**er, does that mean she's a lesbian, or, would the correct terminology be a father fu**er?

That was not a sissy scream, it was my war cry.

Dude, I'm gonna get my magic wipes out, this muth'a fu**er, he's in the wrong crib

Sunday, February 7, 2010

No better way to feel good about yourself, then to make fun of another's overly modern bathrobe

Ah yes, feeding the hatred for hipsters. Tom McNamara- this one's for you. Though, this character, while entertaining, seems a rather unhappy hipster himself

Unhappy Hipsters

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Death Cock

Any unsigned bands need a new lead singer?

Friday, February 5, 2010

Today I wanted to break up

With running. But then I remembered, running has a hot friend. Named Victory. And then I thought, Menage Trois?

Today I ate a bowl of salt

Actually, not a whole bowl, because I couldn't finish it.

Never again, no matter how poor, will I eat tomaten suppe that came in powder form.

Training, Hard On's and British People

Wednesday I started running again. It's been about a year since I've done any serious training, but injuries do that to you. I signed up for a half-marathon April 18th in Boulder- more as a jog than a race.

Nothing really gets you going like slipping and sliding on the outskirts of a lake- the germans in Hamburg neither shovel nor do they use salt! Instead they sprinkle dirt everywhere, so you still fall down and on top of it you just get dirtier!

Now that I'm training again I wish I would have brought more than 2 pants and 2 long sleeves, because i hate doing laundry.

Felt really inspired today researching the Olympic 2012 games in London. It's giving me a hard on for a 3:15 finish in the Chicago marathon.

We're working on an ad campaign for Lloyds TBS and their partnership with the Olympics to bring more awareness and unity to the people of Britain- hard to do because I've been to London once, for two weeks.

Trying to put myself in the british mind set. Don't know exactly what that means but I've bought some builder's tea and spent an hour practicing a British accent. We'll see how that goes

The Dark Ages- Of German Music

My German room mate has been an enthusiastic teacher in the ways of german music. I think I've learned more about Germany from him, then I have actually being in Germany.

Our latest lesson- the dark ages of german music. I can't share with you his wisdom, but I can share with you the hilarious videos.

Monday, February 1, 2010

And then there was man-babies

Every time I lose faith in the world I come across something extraordinary that reassures me that I am not the only weird person out there.

25 photos.

Monday, January 25, 2010

There's an app for that

Technology certainly has it's good and bad uses.

My computer is a bad use of technology, because it has warped me into a eyeball-to-screen zombie incapable of being without internet and thus contact with the exfernal world (My spell check says exfernal is not a word- but nay I say- because it is from Margarate Atwood's The Year Of The Flood to describe the outside world)

The iPhone, which I consider evil, although I would love to have one, can also be a bad use of technology- all those apps cluttering up your time and brain with more useless things.

But what about the not-so-non-useless things?

"(CNN) -- Alone in the darkness beneath layers of rubble, Dan Woolley felt blood streaming from his head and leg.

Then he remembered -- he had an app for that."

Blood heartily dripping from his scalp, possibly compound fracture and gashed leg threatened Dan's life... and an iPhone app saved it- an app designed to tell you what to do in am emergency.

Considering how much I am bruising, breaking, and bashing myself open, I'm thinking an iPhone might be the route to go... especially with the rumors of AT&T losing exclusivity over it, bwhahahahahaa

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Cultural Stomach Differences

A title that brings two points together

The first (Stomach): I just ate Chicago. In sandwich form. I bow at the feet of my Aunt and Cousin who sent me Giardinara.

The Second:Things I had to explain to our Euro counter parts for our Integrated Concepting class presentation yesterday

- The word "cohesive"
- The story of Goldie Locks and the Three Bears
- What a wing-man is

Monday, January 18, 2010


Thursday, January 14, 2010

A Few Pictures

A few pics from the neighborhood I live in: St. Georg

This is of the Bell Tower a block from my apartment. I HATE this tower. It's bells ring at the most inconvenient times.

There are a ton of these weird, rusted, people sized pieces of metal. I'm not sure if they were placed there and THEN graffiti-ed, or there was a plan behind this.

I stuck my camera out my 5th story window and looked to the right. I haven't seen one screen in Hamburg so far, and this worries me because there is never any sun here, even when it's warm, so we wonder how high the suicide rate is. They should probably invest in some storm windows at least.

A Tribute to Limes

I have always loved limes. There. I said it. They go great rubbed on burritos and in my Whiskey/Coke.

Germany, oddly enough, has opened a new look on the lime.

Besides the fact that I just made a delicious drink out of a lime, thanks to the magnificent brain of my German room mate Martin, it's been a lime learning experience.

The drink, in case you are curious is:
1 full lime squeezed in a glass
some honey
hot water

The Story:
Recently we received a brief for the German drink LemonAid, seen at the bottom of the page.

The brief received was for a headlines class. Now, where the confusion begins: LemonAid is made with limes and brown sugar. I'm sure you see the problem the slower, but mathematical part of my brain is having.

So, I had an idea for what I thought would be an interesting campaign called "Fresh Thoughts". The concept behind it? We make lime juice but we'll call it lemonade. The headlines are then all "fresh thoughts"- just silly things. My first thought was getting rid of elevators so we can all work on our glutes. Not the most entertaining thing, but I walk up 5 flights of stairs every day due to lack of elevator, so it's something on my mind.

My teacher's response? "That's calling Germans stupid"


Turns out, anything made with a citrus fruit and sugar is called "lemonade" and lemonade is called something completely different.

What I learned:
Limes help with skin, body ordor (so if you notice that no one ever sits next to you- drink up), constipation, scurvy, weight loss, and many more

But my FAVORITE thing: If you ingest too many seeds, it acts as a poison. Think of the murder you could get away with. Killed by lime seeds? Diagnosis: Death by stupidity. Case closed, ship em' to the morgue.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Don't drop the soap.

<3 this campaign. But this one made me laugh the most

Tag: Dissolve your Problems

The Good, the Bad, and the World Without Hipsters

Today I had a few revelations on the Ubahn into school.

The bad news: I can no longer play 'Hipster or Homeless?' Why? because the answer is always 'Homeless'.

The good news: There is no such thing as a hipster in Germany, and from what I can see, in Europe.

The World Without Hipsters: I'm ok with returning to 2006.

Another note: Sandwiches with eggs in them: weird, and consequently, not delicious, but only 1.50EU.

A note I'm displeased with: No water fountains.

A really bad headline for LemonAid I wrote down anyway, because it makes me giggle: Fresher than the Prince.

Yes, that was a Will Smith reference. "I can rap with out swearing and be cool WOO HOOO!"

Yes, that was a Family Guy reference. I am depraved here.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

You are a farting lawn

Today we learned bavarian swears

I dont remember how to say them in german/bavarian except the one that in bavarian means "shut your mouth" but in north german its "shut your c-word"

halt dei fotzen

the rest is (in english)

you are a farting lawn

you are a piss tile and you have been pissed on

you are the shit brush (you know...what you wipe the toilet bowl with)

you drunken goose (hard to hear because martin says gooz)

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

We're dipping carrots in fish, and may be eating rat.

So we made dinner tonight and it was an adventure.

First, we tried to just get simple carrots and dip. we thought it was some sort of dill dip, and it is... .with fish. Fish and Carrots anybody?

And... we've been eating putenfleich and putenbrust this whole time... and it looks like its chicken and turkey... but apparently those aren't the words for it.... so we are wondering what we've been eating, hoping it means chicken lunch meat and turkey lunchmeat... and that it's not some sort of rat

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

I have a breasts of a turkey

Today I pointed to a turkey sandwhich and said "Ich habe putenbrust" which in a direct translation would be broken german for "I have turkey" but I just found out I said it means "I have breasts of a turkey"

Greeeeaaaaat job. So proud.

I do not feel that bad, however, because when my room mate was little and learning english, he went to England and said "i want to be a steak".

Apparently, when you want something in german, you say something about "i want to become a" so when they learn english... they make the mistake of wanting to become a lot of foods.

Cross Walk lessons

So a few things about crossing the street in germany.

First, at the cross walks, they have traffic lights like in america- you know, the three up and down, only the top two each have a red person crossing the street (much like the orange cross walk light in america), and the bottom one is a green person. For some unknown reason, both the top two lights are lit when its not time to cross. When you can cross, there is only the one green man light on the bottom. I have illustrated this for you. Excuse my poor drawing skills.

So, I asked people why the two red men instead of just... one. No one knows, but it seems like the germans are yelling at me through symbols. They are saying HAALLLLLLLLLLTTTTTT!!!!!! And then, the two red men go away and they say in a nice quiet voice... okie, walk now :)

Very odd.

SECONDLY Germans are all about rules and about following them. When the two red men are yelling HALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!! You DO NOT cross the street. It doesn't matter if a bomb is going off behind you, if there is only one car on earth and it's in Tokyo, you DO NOT cross the street. You MUST wait for the green man or it is Jay-walking, and against the law. I can't believe how much time I have spent standing at a corner with no car in sight, just standing, waiting for the light to say 'okie, walk now :) " Probably 5 hours in the 3 days I've been here. But perhaps that's an exaggerations. Though I spose less pedestrians are hit by cars and lawsuit lawyers probably don't make as much money.

Germans REALLY love David Hasslhoff

'Nuff said. Going to base all my concepts around him. Straight A's.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Day 1 in Germany Part 3- Today we learned about food and porn.

It is the end of the night. We went to a restaurant with a non english speaking waiter, but had an english, and german menus. And so we leaned words like cheese, onions, iceberg lettuce, and so forth. We also picked up several fliers, attempted to read them, and took them home. One of them looked interesting. Upon going to the website, we quickly realized this was not a band. We couldn't read the description, so we did

We are wondering if we've stumbled accidentally into amsterdam, and have realized that sex shops are more important than food here. At least in the St. Georg sector of Hamburg.

here is the site:

here is the translation (at least the beginning because its long)

Sex for money. Is that really so misleading out of middle class perspective that the joke could make? Does that one voluntarily do that? Is prostitution perhaps even a possible journey through life? And how is that if one loves someone, but sleeps permanently with others?

Exclusively mysterious milieu shapes would be who still believes, prostitute, should know learn these young women: They are pretty, intelligent, self-confident and well instructed. They stand to that, what they do. They have relations, fall in love, and they privately look like each other. DREAMDOLLS examined the flying roll change between everyday life and Escortservice, the balance act between authenticity and intensity. The question how it is, to love someone and is to be slept permanently with other.

The DREAMDOLLS provoke its own boundaries, they waste itself. They pull out, out of the monogamous relation model. They deny the expected middle class biography, graduation examination, study, practical course, job. They earn much money that they realize gladly also again, for it comes again and again new purely and easily is earned. Yet sometime they must decide - give it these free space again up, conclude it a study and find therewith again the way into a middle class life or make it the prostitution to an occupation. But who wants to work already the hour for 8 Euro if it earned before monthly 3000 Euro net without rising ever before 13 o'clock?

Germany Day 1 Part 2- S.L.U.T. s, wine, and chicken dildos

So, it's 5pm "my" time, 10am Chi time. Spent the day with my room mate from Scotland, Pauline, who is going to MAS Euro as well, and Christie, who came here with no place to live- although she just found one to move into tomorrow. We spent the day walking around. The first thing we did was buy three bottles of wine, which we are now drinking.

There are 120 steps up to my apartment. Yes, I counted. Like I said before, Germans do not care about being handicap accessible. It was fun lugging two huge bags, a duffle and a backpack up. Luckily Markus was here to help and didn't mind taking several breaks. Then I helped Christie lug her bags up here. We took many, many more breaks.

Went and got some Doners that everybody told us to get- it's turkish food, kinda like a turkish burrito. The guy spoke very little english, thought we were funny, gave us free tea and taught us German for snow- shnell, and ice- ice.

We realized if we read german out loud, it sounds like english, so as we walked around we read things like the little cartoon bubbles they have on trash cans to each other. People must have thought we were weird reading aloud to one another, but we're americans. we're super cool (not).

Right now we have no food because grocery stores and everything else seem to all be closed on sundays. We did however manage to get the wine, and noticed that every single sex shop is open. We thought to ask if maybe they had dildos made of chicken, but don't know the word for chicken and decided to move on. So we have no food, but wine, and my mother suggested to get edible underwear.

Right by our apartment is a place called...something. But under it is the word S.L.U.T. It's a club with good drink prices, and a new porn showing tomorrow. It is across the streeet from a children's park.

School starts at noon tomorrow. Hopefully we'll find our way, find food, and not be hung over.

Over and Out Sour Kraut

The Journey Begins. DUN DUN dunnnnnn

My journey starts off at O’Hare, where I am unknowingly looking at the ticket of my connecting flight and trying to find my way to Gate A- which doesn’t exist. You wonder how terrorists get in? I showed the lady at security the wrong ticket and i still got by.

After wandering, I figure out my gate and head to the opposite side of the airport, where I immediately meet my travel companion David Riley, who teaches me things in German to piss them off. I like him instantly and am pleased when he is seated in front of me next to a 27 year JAG girl who wonders how old I am and bores me with how 918 people applied for the JAG internship when she was in law school, and only 112 of them got it. She had three job offers from the CIA and one from the FBI so I make sure to be pleasant and pretend to listen.

My first view of Germany was of a plane wing. Because that was all I could see until I craned my neck to see the glittering lights out the window behind me. Even then, I could have been circling Chicago for eight and a half hours, because here, it was 6:15am, 11:15pm Chicago time. At this point I’d like to give a shout out to my parents and their wonderful bottle of sleeping pills, which allowed me to sleep 8 hours out of the 8.5 hour flight, leaving the JAG lawyer next to me jealous as she struggled to sleep 2 through the loud cries of several babies. Now I would like to thank the maker of these wonderful pills, as I was dead to the world.

About 6 hours into the flight I awoke with a start, the right wing had somehow been completely destroyed. We took a slow right turn downward, and began a slow spiraling decent to the ocean. I panicked, wondering what the survival rate was, decided I was going to die, but grabbed the air mask that had dropped in front of me and wondered if there were rafts. I awoke with a start in my seat, looked around and realized it was a dream. Then the captain came over the intercom, told us there was a problem with the wing and we were going to start descending at rapid rate and stay calm. I thought “Jesus”, and then for a second time awoke, because I’d be dreaming in a dream. When I awoke for real, there was a bunch of food stuffed in the pocket in front of me, and I thought, yay for the JAG girl from Denver for getting me breakfast.

When I stepped off the plane, I noted that my dad was right, and the German’s don’t exactly stay up to date with handicap policy. I looked at the man and his cane next to me as he stared in defeat, threw my baggage over my shoulder and trudged up a large set of stairs.

Before I left, half the people who had traveled abroad in other countries told me I should really get a Visa. Grim told me no, that was not necessary. As I walked up to show my passport I wondered if I should get all my other paperwork, and prayed they would let me in the country with just my letter from school and my feeble map for the cab driver. I’d like to let you know at this point, that I have yet to make it to my apartment, so I have no idea whether or not the address is correct or if anyone will even be home.

Surprisingly, I’ve been asked more questions about what I’m doing when I go to Canada. I walked right through customs. Apparently the Germans don’t care why you are entering the country, or what your plans are there, but they do have a lot of men standing around with large, large, large guns- so at the very least I’m going to behave until I get out of the airport.

Also, for anyone traveling to a foreign country in the future, pack your external hard drive in your checked baggage. IT LOOKS LIKE A BOMB. Try to explain “hard drive” in English. It makes no sense when you say ‘it’s part of my laptop” when you have to go through security again.

At this point I say goodbye to my new American friends- the JAG lawyer who brags too much, and David Riley, the wonderfully nice and entertaining although not to bright army boy headed to southern Germany and suggested I visit his base and wandered off to my new gate, where I am now seated.