Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act

I just feel like you should read this.

I will offer no other comments.  My own opinion will not be shared.  No debate.  Just read it.

Later gators.

It is Sure to Blow Your Mind

So I've decided to post the top five things that is likely to blow any southerners mind in regards to the north.  There is no rhyme or reason because let's face it, there is hardly ever rhyme and/ or reason to any of my posts.  It is just the way I roll- disjointed and all over the place.  Enjoy!

5. The Jersey Shore

I want to start this by saying the following: I HATE New Jersey.  With a passion.  I do not enjoy going to any part of New Jersey-not even in the slightest.  When friends suggest, 'hey, let's go to the shore' (shore = Jersey Shore FYI). I am likely to contort my face negatively at the suggestion. 

I just hate it and here is just one reason.  They don't pump their own gas.  That's right, you go to a gas station and someone has to pump it for you.  EVERYWHERE.  It is not just a nice thing a couple gas stations do, it is mandated by law.  In fact, I used to work at a gas station in PA(Sheetz, google it) and I would routinely see NJ'ers come up to the pump and put the pump in upside down, come in for help or collapse with frustration over PUMPING GAS.  It's not hard, but NJ officials have bred a population of idiots at the pump. 

This is how it's done.  Idiots.

Anyway, that is not why I am here--my hatred for Jersey is important only to prove that I am not just trying to love up on Jersey.  I'm not, but the picture painted by the stupid show "The Jersey Shore" is far from what the Jersey Shore actually is.  Snooki, J-WOW, Pauly D and the ses pool of diseases 'The Situation' is hardly representative of the people at the shore.  Those tools are actually all from New York-a state that gets NONE of the flack for breeding those d-bags(I think Pauly D is from Conneticut, but point still proven).   

NJ.com knows the real Jersey Shore

In fact, the Jersey Shore is largely frequented by families and high school teens/ college students on summer vacation.  Yes, the nightlife probably gets a bit rowdy, but there are likely no more STDs floating around than Bourban Street in New Orleans.

And one more reason I hate New Jersey.  The ocean looks like sludge.  See how the picture above conveniently doesn't show the ocean?  It is because it is a dark ocean of filth.  I'm not sating Deleware's beaches are better because that is simply not the case, but I feel you guy should hear the truth.  The ocean in the north is disgusting.  You cannot even see the ground!

So the moral of this terribly long winded story is the following: New Jersey sucks. The people at the Jersey Shore are not reflective of the cast of The Jersey Shore.  The ocean water in the north is disgusting.

End!

Cher Baby!

It has been a week since my last post and for that, I am getting ridiculed! Apparently, my blog is instilled in people's lives.  Apart of people's days.  I am.... important.  One could say I am a writer.  Granted, I am a mediocre writer who is terrible at poetry, but still, I am a writer nonetheless.  Therefore, I say, I am awesome.

There's an awesome Tumblr with HIMYM gifs!

Anyway, I have finally decided it is time to go into in depth analysis of the common Cajun phrase, 'cher baby.'  No, we're not believing in 'life after love' or loving up on Sonny or even having female children that decide to become men, no, in fact, cher baby has nothing to do with the so-called "Goddess of Pop" (who in the heck gave her that name?)! 

In fact, you don't even say 'cher' like you would say Cher.  Before we get to the nitty gritty of what it actually means, let's practice saying it, so, now, it's time for pronunciation with Jen!

Cher is pronounced, "sh-eh."  Don't stunt "sh-eh" in the middle, make sure you say it smooooooooothly.  Now after you have obviously mastered 'cher,' you've got to finish it by saying baby.  So "sh-eh (pause) baby."   Now faster! "Sh-ehBaby!"  You got it!  Goooood!  Well, I don't really know if you got it because really, I can't say it well either, but we'll pretend you're an expert and give the goldiest of gold stars!

Now but the real question here, is WHAT DOES IT MEAN?  Well, that's easy.  Basically, it just means, 'awww that's cute!' Or, 'awwwwww' or basically affection. 

So, now let's put this into practice, you're at the park just wandering around taking picture on instagram because, afterall, you're probably a hipster (ha!) and you see the most adorable puppy being walked on a leash.  So, in awe of the epic cuteness of the pooch, you say, (with your best cajun accent) "cher baby!"

No, this dog is not in a park, but it is adooooooorrraaabbiibbbllle!

Or, you're visiting a friend who just had a baby.  The baby has decided to be silent for a few minutes and not cry a thousand tears or poop on your hands and looks simply angelic.  Her little pink onesie has an elephant on it and the room smells of joy....and dirty nasty diapers- you are in a baby's room after all.  So, you say, say it with me! Cher baby!

Babies, filled with lies.  And poop.

Now, you can just say cher with no baby at the end too.  That is, in fact, allowed.  You can also spell cher "sha," but remember, it is not pronounced "sha."  If you say "sha" they will know you are a yankee and all will be lost and this training will have been for nothing.

Now let's combine some things we have learned and see if you can decipher the following sentence.  Anyone who can gets an EVEN BIGGER gold star.  Or an internet high five.

You better not place your hand here unless you can answer the question!!!!

"Aw cher baby!  Let me help you save those baby clothes!"

Yankees

Here is a map the United States how I see the breakdown of Southerners vs. Yankees.

Here is how my roommate sees it.

Zombies.

There is a zombie movie filming this weekend and they are looking for zombies.  I am interested because there is monetary compensation and well, zombies.

This is the email I sent them.  I am rather proud.

*****
Hi there!

I hear there's a little zombie filming this weekend and me, while I am currently alive and thriving, am DYING (get it, dying) to be apart of the filming.  I've attached a couple of crappy pictures of myself so you don't get your hopes up that I am a super hot model looking zombie, but more so of an average girl zombie just looking for some brains and trouble.  So, hopefully you chose me because then next to "Promotions Guru" I can write, professional undead.

I guess we'll see!

Enjoy my terribly mediocre photos and have a great rainy day!
****

I'd share my photos, but no.  Because if this blog ever catches on (and it's almost 500 views wahooooo!), and it won't, I need as few identifying markers as possible.  People goodness knows!

No pictures today. 

Rain....

This will not be a full blown entry because, my goodness, it is 10:00 at night and yankees need their 'beauty sleep.'  It's true, if I don't get 9 hours of sleep a night, I look like a garden gnome... and not like the cute Travelocity one that travels the globe, like the one that got rejected for being too damn ugly.

I could handle these.  Even seven of them!

Anyway, June 1st marked the beginning of Hurricane Season.  HURRICANES PEOPLE!  Not like the delicious fruity drinks that are awesome and awesome, but like huge forces of nature that destroy lives, homes and villages.

Now, I have a whole entry planned for my utter fear of hurricanes, so I am not going to go into them at 10 at night when I really just need to go to sleep, no.  Right now I just want to draw your attention to the absurd, and I do mean absurd, amount of rain that falls here.  And let me tell you, when it rains, it isn't like, 'oh hey bro, let me sprinkle a little of this water shizz on your face.'  No, it's like, 'HEY MOTHER F*ER, LET ME RUIN YOUR FREAKING EVERYTHING AND MAKE EVERYTHING WET AND DISGUSTING AND YEA!!! AMERICAA!!! F*** YEA! RAIN!"  That's how I imagine this rain speaking.  Only with more expletives... I don't use expletives.

Like I said, short entry.  I really wanted to post because of this darn 10 forecast I just saw.  It is ALL RAIN.  For 10 days.  I think tomorrow I am going to have to stop at Home Depot and learn how to build arcs.  10 days of rain...

Someone get this yankee an umbrella.

Fail.

So, my literary piece of genius, my swan song, my calling in life.... my poem, was not well received.  No, not only did it get negative reviews from random blog watchers, but also, my mother.  My very own mother! The person who bore me from her loins decided that my poem, my reason for living, was 'lack-luster.'  This, my friends, is disappointment.  She didn't say, "Oh, I hated it."  But she kind of did one of those things where you, as a child, know that you've disappointed them.  Like I had done poorly on an exam or something.

Rejection from your mother. Feelsbadman.

Now that we got that terribly uncomfortable moment in the blog out of the way, when the terrible blogger gets emotional *shudder,* we can now get on to the dirt of this entry.  Gas stations.

So yesterday after my failure of a blog went public, I went on a voyage to the movie theatre to see The Avengers (which A. I still have not seen and B. I still have not seen.  Another story, another time).  So, like any good delinquents, we stop at the neighborhood gas station for water and candy to sneak into the joint.  We Bad.

I must state, that I have NEVER been to this gas station before.  In fact, I only go to two different gas stations for gas and gum ever.  Both very normal.  My favorite gas station has a delightful gay man who always wishes me a safe journey.  Gay men are great.

So, this new gas station is a drive thru.  I thought nothing of this.  Thought nothing could be different.  Oh boy, was I wrong.  We, my roommate and I, we go inside and immediately I am smacked in the face with this overwhelming awe. I have NEVER EVER seen any such gas station.  This actually may be a terrible blog entry to write because now it sounds so silly in my head as I think on how to accurately describe my.... confusion when I went inside.

Oh no... another blog failure in 3.....2......

So, this gas station, has nothing in it.... or so it seems.  I look around and see some random things like sun tan lotion, batteries... but no coolers.... no candy aisles.  I was wholly unprepared for it.  Instead, EVERYTHING is behind the counter.  And by everything, I mean like three coolers and LOT'S of cigarettes.  It was almost like I walked into Tobacco Palace.  Like the mecca for Phillip Morris.  It was absurd.  I mean, I know Sheetz (a link for my southern friends) has drive thru stores, but I can't imagine they would look like this!

I can't describe it.  I just can't.  Ask my roommate who stupid I looked with my mouth agape.  It is probably what people who first walk into a Sheetz looks like.  When I used to work there, people were so stunned (code for stupid) by the appearance they'd ask us, 'WHERE IS THE CLOSEST GAS STATION.'  We WERE a gas station!!!!  Yesterday, I was that stupid customer.  I think the counter worker looked at me like I was from Mars.

And I kinda am.  Because I am from the north.

A Poem

It ‘twas 2011 when the decision was made,

And then my UHaul was packed and paid.

To the South I made the travel

To the pavement I hit along with some gravel.

Never once to the South had I been,

Not even Disney World on the map to pin.

So there I was, what was supposed to be the ‘Fall.’

And it wasn’t even cold, not barely, not even at all.

So I unpacked my clothes and wandered the town,

And got ready for my journey to go down.

I ate Cajun foods and lots of spices

With drive through daquiris –not just ices.

Went to work where things got strange,

People all say y’all which was a major change.

The talks of hurricanes, humidity and heat,

Sounds like summer’s going to be a feat.

All in the all the trip to the South’s been fun

A whole summer awaits for me to be burned by the sun.

Fin.

Why I have penned a masterpiece!

But It's ALL The Way Over There!

Where I live, it's a great town.  It literally has anything and everything I could ever need.  Even better, I don't have to go far- at all- to get to it.  If I need some food, no prob, 5 minutes away.  If I need groceries... About 7 minutes.  How about a smoothie?  5 minutes.  It's awesome.  There's a mall, a roller rink, great food and car washes within minutes of where I am. 

The problem with all of this, is that now I have contracted a terrible illness.  An illness that I don't know how to cure.  What is it called you ask?  But-It's-All-The-Way-Over-There-Itis.  I think it is common down here in fact.  It runs rampant in the streets and people don't care that they have contracted this non terminal, yet somewhat debilitating virus.

So the symptoms are: thinking 20 minutes to get anywhere is "too far,"  going to the other side of town is "out of the way" and other towns outside of this one are simply "out of the question."  For instance, I love ice cream.  It is darn near my FAVORITE thing in the world in the history of things.  There is a DELICIOUS ice cream place across town- about 20 minutes away.... it's too far.  With this disease, I now settle for the less satisfying ice cream that happens to be closer.

And I wasn't always like this.  In fact, in PA where I was, if we wanted to go anywhere, we pretty much assume that we are going to have to go further than 10 minutes away.  I would routinely make treks to a city an hour away.  Or the other town thirty minutes away.  Here, I have BARELY been out of the city I live in. It's absurd!

It's sick!  Sick I tell you!  I'm sick!!!  See below, the new me.  A turtle on the bayou.