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A rolling stone gathers no moss.  See all future updates on my life at caseyj.tumblr.com

CollegeHumor all-nighter

The short story here is that I just stayed up all night with the Editorial and CHTV staff making Hardly Workings. It was awesome, and so much fun. I made appearances in a good few, but one stands out to me. I would not venture that it’s the funniest or most poignant, but it definitely holds a special place in my heart. It is the video in which Susanna and I mastermind the greatest shaming ever. Mostly it holds this special place because it means by extension that, within the Hardly Working canon, Susanna and I have handled all the male genitalia in this video. I won’t say who handled who, though. Ok I give up– Susanna did Jake.

One of the most interesting parts that I hope can be repeated on more limited levels was the live video chat. You should be sorry if you missed it, because it was awesome. With regards to all of the comments that my rack has generated, I am never wearing that shirt again. Ever. Seriously, I burned it like 2 seconds ago. If I ever hear a slang term for breasts again it will be too soon, and also, I may have a seizure.

Now I’m in this strange zen state of “I could easily go on not sleeping until the appropriate time tonight, but if I decided I wanted to sleep right now I’d be asleep before I was finished making the decision.” Weird? You bet it is!

Internet fail

I haven’t posted in a while because the ethernet port on my Macbook has stopped working.  As I have read on forums, this didn’t used to be a typical computer “fail” until the Macbook.  I don’t know how this happens aside from very specific divine intervention.  Hence, I don’t have any time to find funny things to write about because each webpage takes literally about 5 minutes to load on Columbia’s shitty wireless.  This means the only time I can be online for real and catch up on my TV shows is when I’m at work.  Kidding.  Kind of.

“Blow on it” stands test of time

For about 2 hours, I couldn’t persuade my internet connection to operate.  First I chalked it up to shitty Columbia.  Then I tried all different combinations of cat 5 wires in the various ports in the wall, on my computer, and in my hub thinger (can’t remember the technical term).  No dice.  So I sat curled in a ball on my bed, internetless, for too long.  Then something occured to me; an ancient strategy once used on SNES and Game Boy cartridges that authority figures always said would make everything break, but all it ever did was work.  So I pulled out the ethernet cable, blew into the ethernet orifice, blew on the cable, plugged it back in, and poof– internet.  This is truly one for the books.

Another drop in the bucket towards figuring out guys

Something I’ve been trying to figure out for a while: guys who profess to like girls who wear hats.  Steve is one of these people.  This confuses me because I pretty much only wear a hat when I haven’t washed my hair recently enough to look like a functioning member of society.  I wear hats when I am dirty and don’t want anyone to look at me, and I would never wear a hat when I am fresh and clean as a daisy, unless I were going to a baseball game, and I would venture that most girls that wear hats are the same way.  That said, it is baffling that in this state, I would appear more attractive to a guy with a hat fetish.  It doesn’t make sense, right?

I figured it out though.  Guys don’t like when girls wear hats.  They have it wrong.  Putting a hat on some busted twat would not make her any more attractive to “hat” guys.  What these guys do like is girls who wear hats and still look hot IN SPITE OF the hat, or more broadly, can dress, and feel like crap but still be attractive.  Watch out, boys, I’m hot on your tail.

by me.

When in Kansas

In Kansas, apparently they have not only a Department of Redundancy Department, but a City of Garden City too.

Now, just go ahead and give all these animals names, will you?

So you are Adam in the Garden of Eden. You’re cruising down a path, whatevs, keepin’ it real, and one of these bad boys lands in front of you:

Do you name it a “red-winged blackbird,” OR, do you name it “candy corn bird”? I’ll tell you, when it happened to me, my first thought was “candy corn bird,” so, I don’t know where Adam got his naming scheme. Pretty pathetic and unimaginative, if you ask me.

My sure thing

I wonder how my boyfriend would feel if I stopped calling him my boyfriend and started calling him “my sure thing.”

The McRib

I am fascinated by a lot of things, and many of them are very odd. But decidedly one of the oddest is the McRib. I’ve never even eaten one, and yet they perenially interest me. Like it’s one of those fascinations where I Wikipedia or Google it every once in a while, just to see if anything’s new with it. I got very excited when I saw them on McDonald’s menus when I went down to Florida over winter break. Seriously, have you ever known of a more mysterious sandwich?