Don't Cry, You Look Fat When You Cry

Recently, comedy central had their annual "Stand-up Showdown" special. They feature 20 comedians. Some are people who've been around, others are relative newbies that I've never heard before. So, naturally, I stayed glued to the t.v. during the showdown. I heart my comedy. Seriously. Each year, I discover new comedians who I adore. This year was no different. There were some hilarious fresh-ish faces. What's that? Oh...don't worry, I'll feed you, baby birds.

Introducing....Pete Lee! Yeah, even he knows his name is awful:


Iliza Shlesinger:


My future husband, Ryan Stout:


And my other future husband, Bret Ernst:


Eliot Chang (just a sidenote, I think I sat next to that guy at the Eddie Izzard show):



These people weren't on Stand-up Showdown, but are funny, nonetheless!

Another future husband, Danny Bhoy:


And, you may remember her from the target commercials...Maria Bamford (aka, the Bamfoo):


There are so many more...perhaps this post will be continued...you're welcome cyberspace!

Evidence of Working Together Too Long

You begin to unintentionally dress EXACTLY alike.



This picture is also evidence that the degree, to which I look like my father, is disturbing. Note to siblings: SHUT IT!

Contemplation

Today, I realized that I only have two eggs left in the refrigerator. I'm trying to decide if I want to use them to make tuna salad (for lunch tomorrow - 'cuz I have nada) or if I want to use them to make the chocolate chip cookies that I'm craving, but clearly, don't need.

Oooo, wait! I have egg beaters. Problem solved. Real eggs for tuna, fake eggs for cookies! I just love it when things work out!

Nothing Says Class Like...

...Tail lights held in place by tape.



This is more evidence proving that I really, really need to get my arse out of the South. I really need to get out of the US, but well...maybe someday.

Although, I didn't get a picture of it, the gas line was held in place with a seat belt. It was actually clever, for being so ghetto/trashy. And, hey, if you're "bad" enough to drive something like this, you probably don't need the seat belt, anyway. I wish I had taken more pictures so that the "full affect" could be achieved. But, I figured whoever drives this contraption probably wouldn't respond well to me taking tons of pictures of their prized possession (and probably wouldn't mind smacking a girl - no there's no red-neck profiling here), I didn't want to press my luck. You'll just have to use your imagination.