Tag Archives: lol

Getting real tired of your shit, Autocorrect.

In the span of two days my autocorrect has made affordable and adorable interchangeable more than once.

“You look afforable.”
“That baby actually looks affordable.”

I never lie if a baby is ugly (and they aren’t all beautiful snowflakes, trust me) so I’m pretty sure it’s more believable that I said to one friend that our other friend’s baby looks affordable instead of adorable. I never even corrected myself. And they didn’t question it.

….I’m not sure what that says about me.
Or my friend.

I have, however, decided that adorable should be stricken from my vocabulary. I will start using aesthetically pleasing instead.

Today, you look aesthetically pleasing.


Seamstress sent me a picture of a tub of ice cream last night with the caption #dinner.

When we got into work today she said she ate it while watching the Miss Universe pageant. I had no idea it was even on. Sadly, because I’m sure I could have used a good laugh or two.

Luckily, best coworker ever, Seamstress came in with the save and pulled up the YouTube of their questions and answers.

Some notable favorites include Miss Ukraine answering the “should we get rid of the bikini portion and why or why not?”

Short answer from the lovely contestant: if it’s going to be nice, let’s have it. I’m comfortable wearing anything.

When the next round of questions included “what does your country contribute to the world?” I was certain she’d respond with “Girls who wear bikinis.” But she let me down and reminded me of the suffering in her country lately. Dangit.

Jamaica came in with an outstanding “We gave you Bob Marley, man.” answer,  though, totally making up for Ukraine disappointing me.

I believe it was the beautiful Netherlands that said she was an ambassador for child prostitution.

Seamstress: Time out. Did she just say she was an ambassador FOR prostitution?

We ended all the laughfest moments with this moment of clarity from Seamstress. “I feel terrible about myself, eating a bucket of ice cream while watching these gorgeous women. And then I heard them answer questions and suddenly I felt much better about myself.” #foodforthought

Autocorrect Is A Ducking Butch Sometimes

Autocorrect has failed me a few times today. The first is when I texted an off site manager for another location asking him a question and then inquiring about his hours. Or his hoes. Either way.


Editor’s note: I used to work on site with this one. My mother once pointed out how he thinks he is God’s gift to women. The name Lance Romance started then (she started it) and has stuck ever since.

The next is when Bosshole did another interview  (oh yeah, Stretch is no longer with us) and Seamstress texted me to do a walk by.


We shall simply refer to her as Unknown still. But if she gets hired she may transition into Butch. Thanks, Autocorrect.

Public Relations Nightmare

It looks like 294 people who had been denied or deferred for early acceptance to John Hopkins University received a congratulatory email about their acceptance.

Oops. Merry Christmas – you got into John Hopkins. Just kidding. You’ve been Punkd – but you don’t even get to meet Ashton.

You can brush up on the sad story here.

I love best that they blamed it on an outsider contractor. That seems like your best public relations move, I suppose. You wouldn’t want to blame it on a full-time employee, you’d look incompetent in your hiring process. And you can’t blame it on a student intern or work co-op employee or you’d look like you can’t train your students properly. …maybe they should have done that. Then the 294 rejected people would feel like they dodged the bullet, actually. Who would want to attend a school where their students weren’t able to send out emails properly?

Now, excuse me – I’m going to have to go find the company directory for John Hopkins and find out if they are looking for a good Public Relations specialist. Looks like they could use one – and I’m for hire.

I Dub This Office Plymouth Rock

New Girl is making a sandwich at her desk. Turkey, (way too much) mustard, and some cheese. To be specific it was a stick of pepperjack cheese. She said they didn’t have the slices that she wanted so she got the stick. As she opened it up she said:

“They didn’t have slices, so I now I have to slice my cheese like a pilgrim.”

Like a pilgrim, folks.

NG is trying to pull her cheese apart like it’s a stick of string cheese – which it isn’t as Seamstress says, “Like a pilgrim? I don’t think they had that.”

NG gets a sad little forlorn look on her face and says “They didn’t have cheese? Bless them.” And then followed it up with “A life without cheese is a life not worth living.”

I’m pretty sure she was talking about pepperjack cheese, not exactly cheese. Don’t worry though, I gave her a plastic knife to cut it with for her sandwich. And explained I’m pretty sure they didn’t have those either.

Taken from Family Life.

I guess we should just be glad there wasn’t a hatchet around. Or she might have tried to use that to cut her cheese. Like a pilgrim.