Tag: humor

GIF-Y Love Tag

~ Brooke F. ~ 7 Comments

Joy of joys! I have been tagged by the lovely Stara to do the GIF-Y Love Tag! And this is where I ask everyone to discuss the correct pronunciation of the word down below because me and my family are divided. “JIF” sounds so much better in my head but one could argue that “GIF” should be pronounced similar to “Graphic” as it is a moving Graphic? It makes sense, it just sounds weird in my head.

ANYWAYS. Onto the tag!

RULES

★Mention the creators Tiction and Nehal.

★Thank the person who tagged you and leave a link to their blog.

★Use the tag #gif-y-love and choose a GIF you love for each of the provided prompts.

★Tag at least 5 people

Aaaaand we’re off!

I’m bored

Current mood

It’s snowing outside. RIP.

Reading

My spirit Disney Princess is Belle. I also want a slidey ladder.

Sarcastic

Sassy Will Wonka is king.

Spongebob

Spreading Love.

Angry

This interpretation of Hades in Disney’s “Hercules” is still my favorite.

Scared

Instant regret in a gif.

Laughing

Gotta love the Ryan Gosling Giggle.

Now! Time to Tag!

I tag Suhani, Devangi, Nikszine, EEshani, & Katie!

Thanks for dropping by, Lovelies!

My Mother Taught Me…

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.

“If you’re going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished

cleaning.”

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.

“You better pray that will come out of the carpet.”

3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.

“If you don’t straighten up, I’m going to knock you into the middle of

next week!”

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.

“Because I said so, that’s why.”

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.

“If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you’re not going to the

store with me.”

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.

“Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you’re in an accident.”

7. My mother taught me IRONY.

“Keep crying and I’ll give you something to cry about.”

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.

“Shut your mouth and eat your supper.”

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.

“Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck?”

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.

“You’ll sit there until all that spinach is gone.”

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.

“This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it.”

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.

“If I told you once, I’ve told you a million times. Don’t exaggerate!”

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.

“I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.

“Stop acting like your father!”

15. My mother taught me about ENVY.

“There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don’t

have wonderful parents like you do.” (What wonderful parents?!)

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.

“Just wait until we get home.”

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.

“You are going to get it when you get home!”

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.

“If you don’t stop crossing your eyes, they are going to stay that

way.”

19. My mother taught me ESP.

“Put your sweater on; don’t you think I know when you are cold?”

20. My mother taught me HUMOR.

“When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don’t come running to me.”

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.

“If you don’t eat your vegetables, you’ll never grow up.”

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.

“You’re just like your father.”

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.

“Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?”

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.

“When you get to be my age, you’ll understand.”

25. My mother taught me about JUSTICE.

“One day you’ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!”

(This is and old file I found on my old laptop from a couple years back, I didn’t write it but I still find it funny. Maybe it’ll elicit a laugh from you amidst all the crazy things happening right now! Stay safe! And (for the forty billionth time) WASH YO HANDS)

My Personal List of Reasons as to Why I procrastinate & the faulty logic behind them…

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Welcome to my procrastination diary. Please enjoy your stay…

1. You’re on your phone.

Major, #1 distraction.

I wish I had an actual reason as to why my phone distracts me. Even when there is really nothing to do on my phone and I’m just switching between the same two apps constantly and refreshing. Frankly, I think it’s because nearly ANYTHING is more interesting then what I’m trying to get done.

2. You have too much to work to do so you do none of it.

Genius, right?

3. You’d rather be doing something else.

In other words, you’d rather be procrastinating. Which in of itself isn’t a fun activity but it beats actually doing the thing, right? Nothing like dying a thousand deaths before actually getting the THING done.

4. Your music distracts you.

Instead of helping you concentrate on your homework, you find yourself having your own personal dance off in your bedroom to whatever soundtrack I’ve downloaded recently.

5. It’s past your bedtime (You’d rather sleep).

It’s 8:00? Sorry mom, can’t study. Past my bedtime. When I need to get something done, I suddenly am on a toddler’s sleep schedule.

6. Your favorite show comes on

Cause I have my priorities straight.

7. You are too busy writing a list of reasons of why you procrastinate.

A Very, very, very Bad Day

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Okay, gents and ladies. It’s about time I write about an adventure…

So come and listen to my tale, sad but fantastic, of one of the worst days I’ve had in a long, long time. 

I’m am of course taking about the NyQuil and boiled egg train wreck. And I don’t mean train wreck in the sense that is was a mess of a day (though it was) but in the sense it involved a literal train wreck. 

Are you intrigued yet? Well I sure hope so because I’ve pulled nearly every trick to gain your interest. 

But truth is, it really was just a bad day. One of those days where it felt as if nothing could go right and everything that could go wrong, did. 

So let us turn back the clock… back to where it all began….

This tragic chain of events was put into motion on a Sunday night. 

I had a cold. 

Nothing too bad except for the fact that every time I tried to lie down my nose decided to run like Usain Bolt. So it was kind of hard to sleep. So (like a Norma person) I took some pills that just so happened to be cold medicine.  But what I didn’t realize is this wasn’t just any cold medicine; this was NyQuil night time, coma inducing, death emulating cold medicine whereas I didn’t even think I was taking a night time cold medicine (it was in a regular day time box). So I, without being in full possession of this knowledge, took not one but TWO of these pills. When I realized my mistake, I was… stressed?

You see, NyQuil is some pretty strong stuff and it seemed to effect me pretty bad in the past. So much so that if I ever needed to take it, I would only take on capsule and even then I was a zombie the next day.  

But I had work this Monday, so the next morning I needed to be up and going at a pretty decent hour. 

So I googled how long it took NyQuil to leave one’s system. I wasn’t super happy with the results where I found that it could take anywhere from 8 hours to THREE DAYS. 

yikes. 

But there was nothing to be done at this point, so I just went to bed and slept in my tired defeat. 

And so began my soon to be bad day, when I woke the next morning feeling about as conscious and awake as A sloth during hibernation (I don’t think they actually hibernate but that’s not the point). 

But simply getting out of bed wasn’t the end of my problems. Turns out my siblings don’t know how to replace the toilet paper roll so I had that fun moment. 

Then I had the boiled egg issue. Usually The night before work I would pre-boil an egg for myself so I wouldn’t have to worry about breakfast on a Monday morning. But I had forgotten to mark the egg so my mother thought it was just a plain ol regular one and put it in a container with all our raw ones. 

So I began cracking our eggs into a bowl in a desperate search for my chosen boiled one. I never found it. So instead I had six scrambled eggs for breakfast. Yummy.

And then it came time for work. Or so I thought. The road the way I normally went was blocked off so I had to go the slighter longer way. No big deal… until I realized they had construction going on down that road. And to top things off, when I slammed on my breaks a little to quickly to stop for said construction, my coffee decided to have a will of its own and commit coffee suicide, pitching itself forward so it could spill all over my radio, blue tooth speaker, and music player. But hey, at least my entire car smells like a caramel frappecino. I’m sure THATS going to age well with hours of sunlight!

But I didn’t have time to clean up that mess just yet. I was still driving at the time. So I drove on, trying to wipe my jeans dry as best as I knew how. When I leaned over I noticed that only half of my coffee had been spilt so there was still a little silver lining there. 

Noooopee. 

I cross over a railroad track to my work and unfortunately this train just decided to take a quick nap right in the middle of the place I needed to cross over to get to work. And (also unfortunately) I wasn’t expecting this stop so I slammed on my breaks and said goodbye to that last half of my coffee. You will be missed. 

Thankfully they got the train up and running fairly quickly though so I was only about twenty minutes late for work. But it wasn’t too bad for there on out. I had to kind of deep clean my car though. 

But hey! I lived!

Why I Like Rain

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

It’s so calming

I will always treasure The memory of sitting on the porch, the cold air nipping at my nose and a warm drink in hand. Complete peace before the chaos of the day. 

And finally I can drown in something that isn’t my stupid thoughts of how things can go wrong and how I’m going to mess stuff up.  

And the smell. Good glory,  the smell is amazing. Fresh air, newly cleansed, crisp and so utterly perfect it almost stings to inhale. The smell of starting over. The smell the growth. The smell of everything becoming more alive amidst the storm. 

And The sound is music to my ears, more comforting than a thousand lullabies. The gentle, rhythmic thrum of rain on grass or on the roof, almost as if you are hearing the heartbeat of the sky. 

And it somehow comforts me as I watch the grey come and go. The heavy clouds come and leave. And no matter how chaotic and dark the storm, the sky still manages to pull itself together and becomes a vibrant shade of blue. It may take it an afternoon or even a few days but it will return to its original hue. 

Life and Lemons

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

“When Life Gives you Lemons…”

So I haven’t had a ton of time on my hands lately to make a new blog post (fall break has been fun but busy!). So here are some funny finishes to this age old phrase. The original goes:

“When Life Gives you lemons, make Lemonade!”

But everyone deals with circumstances in their own way.

1. When life gives you lemons, throw them back. Didn’t you mommy ever tell you not to accept food from strangers?

2. Unless life also hands you water and sugar, your lemonade is going to stink.

3. When life gives you melons, you’re probably dyslexic.

4. When life gives you lemons, plant a lemon tree and put on a t-shirt that says “life” on it and pick the lemons grown on the tree and hand them out on the corner of the road.

5. When life gives you lemons, make orange juice and sit back and let the world try and figure out how you did it.

6. When life gives you lemons, throw them at people!

7. When life gives you lemons, keep them because, hey, free lemons!

8. When life gives you lemons, throw them back and demand choclate.

9. When life gives you lemons, find an annoying kid with a paper cut.

Sarcastic Beauty and the Beast

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

(Somehow I felt the need to make another Sarcastic Fairytale telling. Apologies in advance!)

Come and listen to a tale as old as time…

A wealthy widowed merchant lives in a mansion with his three daughters. All are equal in beauty, but the youngest, Beauty (Talk about a self absorbed name! And what if she HADN’T been pretty? What would you call her? “Ugly”?), is kind and pure of heart; while the two elders, in contrast, are wicked, selfish, vain and secretly taunt and treat Beauty more like a servant than a sister (Sounds more like Cinderella to me). The merchant eventually loses all of his wealth in a tempest at sea (Wait, so he loaded ALL his wealth, including his house and money onto a ship and it sinks? What? Or was it kind of a wizard of oz situation where the house gets sucked into the storm. But then it wouldn’t be a tempest. Or at sea.).

He and his daughters are consequently forced to live in a small farmhouse and work for their living (So they were like… normal people now?). After some years of this, the merchant hears that one of the trade ships he had sent off has arrived back in port, having escaped the destruction of its compatriots (And it took this ship HOW long to get it’s backside back to the port? Perhaps he took the scenic route? But how does that work? All ocean looks like ocean from what I can tell). He returns to the city to discover whether it contains anything valuable. Before leaving, he asks his daughters if they wish for him to bring any gifts back for them. The oldest two ask for clothing, jewels and the finest dresses possible, thinking his wealth has returned (Not yet, ladies. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch!). Beauty is satisfied with the promise of a rose, as none grow in their part of the country (“Daddy, get my a flower grown in south Arabia!” That’s strangely specific but hey! Who am I to judge. No one made me the mother goose of fairytales). The merchant, to his dismay, finds that his ship’s cargo has been seized to pay his debts, leaving him without money to buy his daughters their presents (Bummer).

During his return, the merchant becomes lost in a forest (Then how’d he find his way through GETTING there? Perhaps consider a GPS). Seeking shelter, he enters a dazzling palace (That just so happens to be in the middle of some random forest that no one has ever discovered or noticed. Nicely convenient as always). A hidden figure opens the giant doors and silently invites him in (How does that even work? Not to mention that’s like super shady.). The merchant finds tables inside laden with food and drink, which seem to have been left for him by the palace’s invisible owner. The merchant accepts this gift and spends the night there (Yeah, let’s spend the night in an abandoned castle with some creepy person in it!). The next morning as the merchant is about to leave, he sees a rose garden and recalls that Beauty had desired a rose. Upon picking the loveliest rose he can find, the merchant is confronted by a hideous “Beast” (Just “Beast”? No description? For all we know his “Beast” could be a furry monster about two feet high.) which tells him that for taking his most precious possession (A rose? I didn’t know the beast was a gardener…? Either that, or he has some rotten possessions. I mean, I like roses, but they eventually die and they’re, you know, flowers? Why does everyone treasure flowers so much in this story? It’s kind of weird?) after accepting his hospitality, the merchant must die (Whoa. Heavy price just for plucking a flower, don’t you think? Also, that’s kind of an awkward exchange. *Plucks flower* *beast materializes out of nowhere* “You must die”). The merchant begs to be set free, arguing that he had only picked the rose as a gift for his youngest daughter (So SHE should be the blame). The Beast agrees to let him give the rose to Beauty, but only if the merchant will return.

The merchant is upset, but accepts this condition. The Beast sends him on his way, with jewels and fine clothes for his daughters, and stresses that Beauty must never know about his deal. The merchant, upon arriving home, tries to hide the secret from Beauty, but she pries it from him (Blabber mouth) and willingly goes to the Beast’s castle. The Beast receives her graciously and informs her that she is now mistress of the castle (“I’m Queen of the Castle! I’m Queen of the Castle! Bawahahahah!” Sorry. Show quote.) and he is her servant (She could order her servant to set her free maybe? This is kind of a weird deal). He gives her lavish clothing and food and carries on lengthy conversations with her. Every night, the Beast asks Beauty to marry him, only to be refused each time (“Our children would be the ugliest things!”). After each refusal, Beauty dreams of a handsome prince who pleads with her to answer why she keeps refusing him, to which she replies that she cannot marry the Beast because she loves him only as a friend (Aw… stuck in the friend zone. Tough luck buddy). Beauty does not make the connection between the handsome prince and the Beast and becomes convinced that the Beast is holding the prince captive somewhere in the castle (Wow, some “friend” Beauty is). She searches and discovers multiple enchanted rooms, but never the prince from her dreams.

For several months, Beauty lives a life of luxury at the Beast’s palace, having every whim catered to by servants, with no end of riches to amuse her and an endless supply of exquisite finery to wear. Eventually she becomes homesick and begs the Beast to allow her to go see her family. He allows it on the condition that she returns exactly a week later (A servant giving orders? Unheard of!). Beauty agrees to this and sets off for home with an enchanted mirror and ring. The mirror allows  her to see what is going on back at the Beast’s castle (Just because she’s nosy like that), and the ring allows her to return to the castle in an instant when turned three times around her finger (Or she could just tap her magical sparkly red shoes together three times and say, “There’s no place like home!”). Her older sisters are surprised to find her well fed and dressed in finery. They are envious when they hear of her happy life at the castle, and, hearing that she must return to the Beast on a certain day, beg her to stay another day, even putting onion in their eyes to make it appear as though they are weeping (I would be weeping for real if I stuck a veggie into my eyeball!). They hope that the Beast will be angry with Beauty for breaking her promise and eat her alive (Doesn’t Beauty have a lovely family?). Beauty’s heart is moved by her sisters’ false show of love, and she agrees to stay (Of course she does).

Beauty begins to feel guilty about breaking her promise to the Beast and uses the mirror to see him back at the castle. She is horrified to discover that the Beast is lying half-dead from heartbreak (like a heart attack or…? I am not aquainted with this medical condition) near the rose bushes her father had stolen from and she immediately uses the ring to return to the Beast.

Beauty weeps over the Beast, saying that she loves him (Whoa, whoa, whoa! What happened to that whole “Just friends” bit?). When her tears strike him (“Ow! You just hit me with your tears!”), the Beast is transformed into the handsome prince from Beauty’s dreams. The Prince informs her that long ago a fairy turned him into a hideous beast after he refused to let her in from the rain, and that only by finding true love, despite his ugliness, could the curse be broken. He and Beauty are married (So much for being “just friends”. Whatever.) and they live happily ever after together. (yay them.)

The End

Things I hate about Hair

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

*Warning! Whining zone ahead!*

You know, just little things that make me wonder what its like to be bald.

Things I hate About Hair

1. It can be poofy

There are days my hair is poofier than a wedding dress. I hate it when I get out of the shower and my hair dries in a triangle. And it’s not like I can just “comb it out” which makes things a gazillion times worse. I think at that point, I wet my hair again which is basically like pressing the reset button and hoping for the best.

2. It can be thin

I just want to NOT look like gollum, okay?

3. It can be itchy

I have days where I’m sitting down, minding my own business and it feels like a bunch of ants are crawling up my back when in reality, I only let my hair down out of a ponytail.

I really don’t know what the deal is. Some days my hair is silky smooth and others it’s sand paper. But hey! At least the back of my neck has be exfoliated.

4. It can be hot

My neck has experienced global warming first-hand. It’ll get so hot and sweaty whenever I’m outside and (horrors of horrors!) I forgot to bring a hair tie.

5. It’s more stubborn than I am

Sometimes my hair could be classified as a solid as it is not going anywhere. It is staying in it’s poofy shape no matter what. I can take a straightener, a blow dryer, hair spray, hair gel, glue, a weed wacker… whatever to my hair and it will remain untamable in it’s triangular shape. I just want to be pretty, okay?! Give me this moment!

6. Everyone Else’s hair works wonderfully but mine

I could have a friend with crazy curly hair and it can look fabulous and settle in perfect tendrils of beautifulness. Me, who has “straight-ish” hair (notice how I put that in quotation marks) has hair that should be “relatively easy” (Also in quotation marks) to take care of, has to put my hair up in a ponytail just to keep it from floofying (Is that word? Is now!) all over the place. Not only that, but it looks like I have a brown, dead possum hanging from my head or some sort of old carpet.

In reality, I know this is the “grass is greener on the other side” effect. I’m sure that they feel exactly the same way some days.

7. I will have good hair days on days I do not go anywhere

I only have so many good hair days! Why waste it on a day where only my cat can see it?!

Now I will abruptly conclude this rant as I have no idea how to end it. Sooooo… I’m going to go finish blow drying my hair so see you peoples later! Until my next update! (Whenever that is… we’ll see!)

The Sufferings of a Writer

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

1. Staying up til two thirty in the morning on a school night because you’re in the middle of a really exciting chapter.

2. Carrying a notebook and pencils/pens everywhere you go.

3. Getting a really good plot idea out of nowhere and having to drop everything to jot it down.

4. Eavesdropping on people’s conversations for dialogue ideas.

5. Getting a new computer and being thrilled at the prospect of all that free file space, and then having half of it filled up with Word documents within a month.

6. Having so many Word documents that you don’t even remember what some of them are..

7. Becoming stunned whenever someone asks you what your book is about (as if you could sum it up in a sentence, right?).

8. Being given an assignment to write a two-page short story and turning in a twenty-page one instead.

9. Envisioning a cute/funny scene in your head during a boring class and suddenly someone asks “What are you smiling about?” and you have to stammer something dumb.

10. When someone tells you your sad scene made them cry and being like “YES! VICTORY!”.

11. When you’re confused about something, putting two characters together and having them fight about it.

12. Being able to turn everything that happens to you into a scene for your story.

13. Getting inspiration not just from English class, but also from History, Biology, Foreign Language, Art and Math.

14. It annoys you when people use the wrong form of ‘you’re’ and ‘their’.

15. You correct people’s grammar in your head.

16. You know every little thing about a character… except their name.

17. It makes you slightly concerned when people look in your Google history that they will question your mental health.

18. You question your own mental health fairly often.

19. When someone walks in and you’re in the middle of writing you’re like:

GoawayI’mnotdoinganythingsuspiciouswhileIminusmyworddocumentveryquickly

20. You want to get (or already have) a sign on your door that says ‘For Your Safety, Do Not Disturb the Writer While She is Inspired.’

21. When someone suggests you edit out a part of your story that part instantly becomes your favorite part.

22. All your favorite songs either remind you of a scene or a character in your story (or perhaps inspired them).

23. Complimenting your looks, skills and personality are all right, but when someone compliments your writing without knowing it’s yours, your day is made.

24. You want desperately someone to critique your writing and at the same time you don’t.

25. You have that one character (maybe more than one) that you know better than your own family members, sometimes better than yourself, that one that you love so dearly and you can see them in your head and hear their voice like they’re actually there and they’re so real to you.

26. You feel guilty when you have to do something mean to a character you like.

27. You love all your characters, even the ones that readers aren’t supposed to like, even the ones that you know you’d hate if they existed, because you understand them.

28. Putting your character in a tense situation makes your heart speed up.

29. You have conversations with your characters in your head (and sometimes outside ).

30. You have a quirky thing you do that gets your creative juices flowing and inspires you, and if anyone else knew about it they’d think your insane.

31. You cry when you have to kill your favorite character.

32. You critique other people’s books while you’re reading them.

33. Everything inspires you some days, other days you can’t get a good idea for the life of you.

34. You get all excited to write before you do it, but when you actually sit down and open the Word document, you get about one sentence done in an hour.

35. You join rpg’s for ‘writing practice’ because partly you can make up characters that don’t have to be super complex, partly you don’t know what’s going to happen so it’s a challenge there, and partly they’re just fun.

36. You’re that person who writes paragraph-long texts with perfect grammar.

37. Your characters show up in your dreams from time to time.

38. You get inspiration from your dreams.

39. You have a Word document open at this moment.

40. You’ve smiled and said ‘That’s so true!’ to most of these.

Is the Glass half-full or empty?

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Is the Glass half full? Is the Glass half empty?

But doesn’t it depend? If you filled up the glass to the halfway point, wouldn’t you be more in inclined to say it is half full? But what if you filled it up and then poured out half?  Now it seems half-empty.  I guess how a person sees their glass depends on the circumstances around it and their particular glass… so maybe it’s not quite as simple as sorting people into optimists and pessimists. It’s true that maybe some of us are better at seeing the silver lining and others. Maybe some of us are natural born cynics. And maybe the human psych is just a little bit more complicated than that…

But all that being said don’t forget to drink your water in the first place. And I’d recommended doing it through a crazy straw. Cause those things are awesome.