Monday, August 30, 2010

August 2010

The gracious thing for me to do would be to wipe my brow, turn to August, and say Well done, summer month. Well done.

However, being less than gracious I'm more apt to tongue kiss September on the mouth, while looking over it's shoulder at August just long enough to give it the bird.

August was busy.

1 car show
1 death in my immediate family
1 wedding in my immediate family
(with subsequently - 2 wildly awkward extended family get-togethers)
3 birthdays (1 penis cake)
1 scientific article submitted for publication
1 poem written about my joyous smile (Yay! go read it at
2 endangered species I mated (my very first time mating anything on the IUPC endangered species list!)
2 chunks of cancer cookie cutter-ed out of me (The stitches are driving me nuts)
3 times I completely exposed myself in front of someone in a completely non-sexual way
1 time was Matt, so it doesn't count (because he enjoyed it)
4 phrases i learned in Czech
1 conversation I had in German

You know, now that I look back - August was kind of awesome! (And warm!)

Oh, August. I can never stay mad at you. (February, on the other hand? Can suck my balls)

Saturday, August 28, 2010

My Sleepwalking

My friend Lindsey would get a kick out of this . . . so I'll just blog about it and figure it'll probably get around to her eventually. She loves how my logic evolves. What I do is I take facts as I see them and come to a logical conclusion, but if you weren't there for the whole thought process you'll think I'm nuts.

Example, you say?

Okie dokie.

Last night I may have killed a prostitute in my bed.

You think I'm nuts, yes? Case in point people. Case. In. Point.

NOW, lets take you through a very logical thought process.

So last night I fell asleep while reading about rabies. I slept fitfully for about 6 hours. Usually when I wake up exhausted that means I've been sleepwalking.

(Matt has come over early in the morning before to discover my . . . leavings. Like when I toasted a box of frozen waffles, placed them all over my kitchen, then ate a tube of toothpaste.)

After my shower I went to make my bed and noticed a fair amount of blood on my sheets. Blood. BLOOD?! After examining myself thoroughly I found no lacerations or abrasions. I had no taste of blood in my mouth.

You can believe that I went over every square inch of my body because after a night dreaming of rabies I was positive a bat was sucking blood from somewhere while I dozed.

ANYWAY - nothing.

So clearly - I fell asleep, then sleep walked outside, picked up a prostitute, came back to my bedroom, killed said prostitute, disposed of his or her body (My best guess would be that I stuffed in in the abandoned coal chute in my building. That's just a guess.), then went back to sleep.

See people? Logic.

Either that or I ate a bag of Hickory Barbeque chips and downed a Dr. Pepper slurpee then drooled like a sieve all night long.

The world may never know . . .

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Why Yes, I DO have this much time on my hands . . .

For the record - the phrase is "Don't judge a book by its cover" - it doesn't mention anything about accepting it unconditionally.

This is why I feel so justified in doing what I've done to the book I bought today. . .

I love David Sedaris. So when I stumbled upon this book in a used bookstore today I had to purchase.

Sadly - it wasn't Sedaris' name that caught my eye, but the absolutely HIDEOUS cover.

Call me shallow (okay - I kind of am), but I'm a sloooooooooow reader, which means I'd be carrying around the unibrow twins for an uncomfortably long time.

I don't deal with unibrows, or any other form of body hair very well.

A fellow zookeeper at work named Jaime refuses - REFUSES to shave her legs, yet insists on wearing shorts. After considering the most tactful way to approach the subject I said "Jaime! When are you going to shave your damn legs?! You're making me sick!!"

At first she said I was jealous because she had nicer legs than me. I told her to try again because she has legs like a ninja turtle.

So Jaime said she wasn't A) trying to impress anyone and B) uncomfortable with her bushy legs.

Oh, HELL no. If I'm uncomfortable - She will be too.

I slipped out of the back door of the animal rearing room and crept through the empty hallways on our slowest day at work. Collecting other employees as I went I finally came back to the rearing room with an army of educators, custodians, and gift shop staff.

Jaime turned around and was surprised at the people I had collected. She was probably also confused until she saw what I had brought them back for. To see Jaime's hairy legs.
See you guys! I told you she wears short jeans shorts with long loooooong leg hair. Look close!!

I treated Jaime like a sideshow freak.

Uncomfortable yet, Jaime?

(This may sound mean - but she had it coming after the umpteenth time she told me I was going to hell for various reasons)

So yeah. I'm not going to deal with the unibrow.

So I replaced the pictures. With black and white pictures I had stored somewhere in my email folders. They happen to be of Natalie and Matt.

And this? Is what I do with my days.

Well . . . and I got some peanut butter FroYo (AMAZING)

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Czech, please!

Haha! These titles write themselves!

Okay. Actually - my sister text messaged it to me today. So pretty much all I do is steal titles from those more witty than I.


Let's move on.

We all remember my Czech phrasebook, yes?


Well last night I went to Old Chicago with Matt and Gina for trivia. I happened to have my little book in my pocket to show Matt. After Matt had set it on the table so he could stuff his face with pizza and Oktoberfest beer our waitress noticed the little book.

Our waitress just happened to be from Bratislava, Slovakia. Slovak and Czech are like American English and Canadian English. We say the same stuff, but Americans totally make fun of the way Canadians say "aboot". Hehe.

Anyway - she asked if I wanted to see a Czech tongue twister. Umm. Yeah!

So she wrote down Strč prst skrs krk

Then I made her teach me how to pronounce it. (I'm pretty good too - but I've always been fast with my tongue)(Take that as you wish)

She then gave me another statement that is much softer: Lǎlǎ ho paplǔha ogrcal mi krpce.
It means Look at that douche bag who threw up on my shoe.

I wonder what tomorrow holds. Perhaps I'll learn how to say "hello." or "my name is Chad." or "my friend Matt's nut sac is full of jelly beans."

Guess what my money's on.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Czech Me Out

I have to be honest. This blog title? Is not my own piece of brilliance, but a modified pick-up line that Matt invented about 8 years ago when we were trying to help a coworker ask out a sexy Czech chick that worked next door. But it seems applicable and due for a comeback. No?

ANYWAY . . .

I'm going to the Czech Republic for the first time next month so when I saw a teeny weeny Czech phrase book in the bookstore yesterday I decided I must purchase.

There are several reasons why I want to learn at least a little Czech (which they call Čeština) (Which is pronounced CHESH-tyi-nuh)

A.) The language is actually very beautiful
B.) I watched Inglourious Bastards yesterday and when Diane Kruger gets all snooty in Brad Pitt's face in her "would it to too much to hope that an American speak any other languages/ Miss Thang" attitude I wanted to slap that bitch (or at least prove her wrong)(Girl. She so ig-nant)
C.) I also want to be as far removed from Brad Pitt in that movie as possible. What's worse than Brad Pitt's awful Tennessee accent? His fake Tennessee accent trying to speak Italian. Bon-JOR-no.
D.) Actually A. is kind of a crock. My reasons are pretty much just B. and C.

So. Now I leave you with my findings.

Chad's very first memorized Czech phrase:
Chtěl pivo (KHUT-yel Pee-vo), which means "I'd like a beer"

Best thing about Czech:
Every letter has one way to be pronounced. None of this english nonsense where C can sound like an S or a K. GH is not either silent or sounding like an F. Nope if its a letter its the same as you always see it. which means I can totally just read the dictionary to people and be spot on!

Worst thing about Czech:
Have these people ever heard of vowels? Seriously. Do they know they're free?

I found this little gem in my phrase book: Strč prst skrz krk, which means "Stick your finger through your neck"

Thankfully I probably won't have to use it too often.

Although we all know that I'm gonna try to bust that bad boy out after a few pivos . . .

Friday, August 20, 2010

Things Matt Doesn't Want Me to Share: Part 1

See what happens Chelsea? When you decide to have a wedding with an open bar. Look at iiiiittt.

This? Is Wine-drunk with a hot tub.

Yes, Matt and I are wearing matching trunks that are meant, not for adult men, but for fat children.
Yes, we look like Reese's Pieces with bad farmer's tans.
Yes, Zahra is wet because we pulled her into the hot tub with her clothes on.
Finally, YES - I realize I need to go to the gym.

Despite the fact that Matt will probably slap me in public after publishing a picture where he thinks he looks "squishy" - its not as bad as what Zahra would do if I posted the other hot tub picture where you can totally see her taint.

So . . . remember this the next time you think it would be fun to have a wedding Chelsea!

Thursday, August 5, 2010

I am a Creepy Hypocrite

Picture it:

Last summer I rebuilt my bathroom. Every wall, every fixture, floor to ceiling remodel. Needless to say I was at the hardware store like three times a day.

At one point I logged onto my facebook page and a girl I didn't know had asked to be my friend. Normally I would simply delete, but she looked somewhat familiar.

I enlisted my friend Zahra to help me find out who she was.

Here are the facts:
She was like 17
About the size of a small shed
Worked for Lowe's in Thornton.
The Lowe's that I had been going to for the past week.
The Lowes that employs slightly large girls who commit the name on your debit card to memory and then find you on facebook.

Bless her enlarged, tortured heart.

What. A. Psycho.

Well, the day I can no longer call her a creepy stalker is today. Specifically all afternoon. When I spent my day off with an anonymous friend creating a fictional profile on an unnamed dating website so we could use it to look up her ex.

The take-home message? Stalking is super fun.

So what if I'm going to hell as fast as that hand basket can carry me. At least MY stalking victim can't look at me and think you poor poor fat girl. No.


Besides. Karma has already nailed my ass. Fictional profile persona? Yes she's had more interest shown in one hour than I've had all summer.

Our fictional girl is kind of a bitch.

I'm just a creepy hypocrite.