Friday, August 31, 2012

The Calm Before the Storm

Tomorrow is the first Husker football game and I'm not going home for it.
It feels strange. Like I'm missing Christmas or something.
I feel like I'm letting someone down.
Like baby Jesus. Or baby Coach Tom Osborne. Or maybe just myself.
I'm not sure which is worse.
I don't have FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out)
I have ROMO (Realization Of Missing Out)
I don't fear I'm missing out, I know I am.
I've missed the first home game a few times,
what I haven't missed are the first home game tailgates.
And that's what gets me.

So I won't be at The Bar for an early morning Bloody Mary. That's fine.
And I won't hop over to Sandy's for some Elk Creek Water with all of the other 12 county people who think this is the only bar in Lincoln. No biggy.
There will be no scurrying to a tailgate to drink beer from a red Solo cup,
toss a football with a kid,
and munch on some homemade chex mix.
There won't be a tear in this eye as the Huskers make their way out of the tunnel...
Letting go of balloons after the first score?
Not gonna happen. We're on a helium shortage anyway.
Runzas at half?
Vals pizza that always seems to taste just a little extra special when served at the stadium?
It's just not in the cards for me this year, and I... I can should accept that.

But I'll tell you why it's hard to accept that.
Because once upon a time I lived in a sorority house where the tunnel walk song
was blasted through the house speakers at 8:00 a.m. on game days.
For 11:00 a.m. kick offs we started at 7:00 a.m.
We were chugging Husker punch before the players had even rolled out of their cozy hotel beds.
As a kid, I grew up with such Husker anxiety that I felt the need to keep the football
game on in the background after I'd snuck up to my room to play Barbies.
I grew up believing just one more National championship would solve world hunger.
I was told Bill Callahan is the reason God hates Nebraska.
And yet T.O. is the reason God still loves Nebraska.
So do I love Husker football? Sure.
But do I love husker football tailgates? More than anything.
So yeah, this Saturday might be a little hard for me.

But I've already said too much.
It is what it is.
Life goes on. And luckily here in Chicago life goes on at Kirkwoods.
Which isn't half bad either.

And now to present a little poem I wrote a few years ago entitled:

Twas the Night Before Game Day


Twas the night before game day and all through the town
All the Nebrasky’s were brewing, drinks all around
The pitchers were washed and drying with care
In hopes that Elk Creek would soon be there.

The fans were all anxious and dressed in their reds
As visions of tailgates danced in their heads
And skanks will be in heels, and me in flat feet
Making the drunken trek, to the great Stadium street.

When out of the Union there arose such a clatter
All the crowd turned, to see what's the matter
And no big surprise, just silly frat boys
Clad in Lacoste and Sperrys, making lots of noise.

Now heading downtown, a large cluster we see
Who could this group of non-stuck up, attractive girls be
Sorority girls of course, with a smile on their face
As GDI’s look on, pissed and bitter, greek tailgates aren’t their place.

The foam on the top, of a newly poured beer
Brought a tear to this eye, of old college cheer
Then what to my wondering eye should appear
But a group of college pals that were coming so near.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick
I knew right away it must be old Fritz
And to the Bar she came as fast as she can
Marge the cook behind, with Runza in a pan.

And Kim the ‘tender poured shots to all who came
Calling each preference out by its name
“Now Rumple! now Goldschlager! Jager and Jack! 
On Tequila! On Bacardi! And Liquid Cocaine in the back!”

“To the beer garden, and side bar, and over to the wall,
Now drink, drink, drink, them all!”
With a dribble down the shirt here
And stools and a bar top covered in beer
Closing time was coming quite near.

So Fritz and her group made a quick stop at the Rail
For dirty dancing in the back, Lincoln hookers entale.
Somewhere in between Lazzaris and gyro fries too
Fritzy and Marge disappeared, into the blue.

And as I looked into the sky I happened to see
This unlikely duo flying, call out to me
“Happy game day to you and all of your crew…
But stay out of the kitchen or we’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Happy first game day, everybody.
Take a shot for me.


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Thursday, August 30, 2012

Flog Week (Forced Blog Week)

This week has been a flog week for me.
{forced blog week}

I don't know what's going on. I've honestly never had this problem before.
that's what he said.
I'm blaming it on the 983 cold medicine pills I am taking at the moment.
I know the bottle said may cause drowsiness, but someone should also add,
"may cause shitty blog posts" as well.
#bloggerproblems.

Like I've said many times before, I blogged for a few years before ever caring about that little panel on the side that says "followers."
But once I started caring, there was just no going back.
Yeah I blog for myself and all that jazz blah blah blah
(thus the reason I just wrote an entire post about Harlow's poo)
but I'm not going to pretend I don't get jollies off of getting new followers.
It's addicting. It's like blog crack.
And like a true druggy, I get all peeved and agitated when I see other junkies (bloggers)
get more crack than me at a faster rate.
Makes me wonder what I'm doing wrong...
Ewww. How much did I just sound like an insecure Kimmy Gibler with that line?
That was not intentional. I just meant that I sometimes think blogging is funny.
I often wonder if I am the only one who gets competitive about it...
Or does nobody else just admit to it?
Looks like I just found my Ann Landers letter for the week.

Anyway...let me segue into introducing you all
to a really great blogger with an awesomely refreshing
"I don't give a shit" kind of attitude.
And whenever I say something like this it as meant as the highest compliment.
I especially love her post today about the start of college football. Woop woop.
She's real, she's funny, and her pup, Sunny, is adorable!
(and he's been known to run away to Sonic)
Without further ado, here is This Hive


hey there daily tayers!
so flippin excited to be taking over taylor's blog today! if you are here, it must mean you have an extremely awesome sense of humor, which means we muuust be friends. 


i blog over at 'this hive.' i don't have cute babies to coo over and i'm definitely NOT an extreme couponer, so you guys can still keep reading :)

i have a cute besty/boyfriend/manfriend named brian:
a puggle pup named sunny:
and a group of really awesome besties:

my blog is about all of those things, inappropriate jokes, crass humor, and then some! come on over to my 'hood and check us out, yo. cant wait to meet ya!
xoxo

This Hive

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always. sometimes. never.

My one task for the day (besides working, cleaning, walking Harlow, ext)
was to monitor the movie that is being filmed on my block from 10:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. today.
Up and down the street there are signs that read "no parking during movie filming."
But of course I forgot this until just ten minutes ago when I was walking Harlow 
and saw cones set up in the street and a possible movie set van (I'm assuming.)
It could have also been a child trafficking van, as well. They look very similar.
But nothing else. So I can only assume filming hasn't started yet.
You know how movie sets are, always running behind.
I guess I'll just have to treat this like the day Joe Biden ate at my neighbor's house
and simply check my surroundings every twenty minutes to be fully aware of what is going on.
(It's for the sake of my neighborhood, of course.)
Someone's gotta be the crazy lady sitting on her stoop with her dog and her iced tea...
Might as well be the girl from Nebraska.

Anywho...
Since it's Thursday, it's time again for always. sometimes. never.


Harlow edition.

I always pick up after Har when he drops the deuces. This is the city. It's what you do.
Then again, I sometimes only bring five bags and he goes six times...Seriously.
But I will never just leave the poo. If anything, I'll do the poo-shuffle and pretend to either pick it up, 
or at least kick dirt, grass, or whatever else I can find on top of it.


These signs always drive me nuts.
You know what I sometimes want to do? Replace it with a sign that says,
"please respect our dogs, kindly keep signs out of their environment."
C'mon! It's the outdoors! Where do they think squirrels piss? Or rats? Or homeless people?
Or Chris on the weekends? Jk... But no.
Never have I pulled Harlow away from peeing in this spot. Or Chris.

Since I don't have a yard, I am always picking up shit.
But sometimes, just sometimes I dream about just leaving it.
And if someone would catch me leaving dog shit in their yard, this is what I'd say:
"It's fine, this fertilizer treatment is on me."
And then I'd walk away laughing all the way home.
I've never done it. But a girl can dream.

And now here's a scene from earlier today in which Harlow saw a squirrel.
He always goes absolutely Honey Boo Boo crazy when he sees those damn squirrels.
Sometimes, I mean usually, I have to carry him away from the tree like a screaming toddler.
It's never a good situation.

Is it Friday yet?
Now link up. It's totes fun.

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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

If it looks like Booger. It's got to be Booger.

I did it.
As of yesterday at 7:00 p.m. I officially became a student of the Second City.

Naturally, I sat in the wrong classroom for the first ten minutes until I asked the girl next to me to confirm I was in the right place.
She confirmed I was in the wrong.
So I walked next door into a room full of animated 20somethings talking loudly
and obnoxiously in a manner that made me want to walk right back out.
"What's your name? Why are you here? Where are you from?"
They all drilled me the second I walked in.
My defensive walls of sarcasm instantly shot up around me.
Say something cynical. Or snotty. Or funny. Just don't look vulnerable!
-the little bitch demon on my shoulder spat into my ear.
But I refused. I was here to join this loud group, not separate myself from it.
If I put up walls now, I was in for a long eight weeks.
So I played along.
And the moment our instructor walked in I knew I was in the right place.

Booger. From Revenge of the Nerds.

Booger is my teacher.
Well, he claims his name is Bryan.
But if he talks like Booger. And looks like Booger. He's got to be Booger.
He walked in and said,
"I don't know why you're here, maybe it's a hobby, maybe you want to be on Saturday Night Live..."
And right there I kinda got chills.
Because never before had I found myself at a place in life where someone actually suggested this was a possibility.
A slim, oh so slim possibility, but a possibility never the less.
And I knew I was in the right place.

We proceeded to do all sorts of bizarre warm up activities and exercises.
I was made painfully uncomfortable on more than one occasion.
For example: at one point we had to line up against the wall, from shortest to tallest,
without talking and while keeping our eyes closed the entire time!!!
Do you know how much touching that requires?
I wanted to die.
And then we had to hold hands with each other several times.
Again, touching.
Touching and holding hands with strangers.
Two things I really hate.
And then more weird sound games, like zip, zap, zop.
And buzz. And schwoosh.
If you've never taken an acting class you have no idea what I'm talking about.
Just know it's as bizarre as it sounds.

Bottom line is this- I'm happy I went.
And I'm even kind of excited to go back...
But for now I need to run to 7/11 and grab my 27th Naked Juice of the day.
When I'm sick, it's all I want.
Lots and lots of empty calories of thick fruit juice.
Yumbo.

And then it's back to the couch.
Harlow and I have two more episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras to watch before
Honey Boo Boo comes on tonight.
See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya.

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Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The Second City

Once upon a time I got this bright idea I wanted to take classes at the Second City.
Well those classes start tonight.
And I want to know what in the hell I was thinking.
a. My cold is in full force and I am drippy, raspy, and all over shitty feeling.
b. I just want to lay on the couch all night.
and  c. I hateeeeee meeting new people/trying new things.
I know c. is pathetic. But it's true.
I'm already all uncomfortable and awkward for myself thinking about walking in tonight
and not knowing where to go. Or where to sit. Or who to talk to. Or what to wear...
And how to fit in with the "type" of people who take Second City classes.
{The over zealous thespian/aspiring comedian/actor type.}
I become that type only after a lot of drinks...
For those of you who don't know,
The Second City is the Chicago improv training school where all of my favorites
got their start. To name a few:
John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Bill Murray, Mike Meyers, Tina Fey, Jany Lynch, Tim Meadows
and most imporantly, my obese brotha from another motha-
Chris Farley.
Oh me and my damn bright ideas.
I am soooo dreading 7:00 p.m. tonight.
But I think deep down I just know I need to do this. If not only just to say I gave it a try.
It's been on my "life list" for about ten years now...

So tonight when I'm super uncomfortable,
and pretending to be on my phone, or trying not to let my face get super red and blotchy,
I will remember Chris Farley was once here.
I will be in the exact same classroom where all the greats started.
So I guess that right there makes it kinda worth it.

At the very least it will give me new stuff to blog about on Wednesdays...

Next up, let me introduce you to one of my favorite doggy-bloggers around.
Okay, I guess to be fair I should say she writes about a lot of other things besides just her dog.
Like fashion, makeup, lifestyle, she's basically a one-stop-blog.
And she's cute.
And funny.
Like I said, one stop blog. So check her out!
and she's giving away a $15 Target gift card! Woop woop.

Oh hey, Daily Tay-ers.
I'm Sarah and I blog over at Total Basset Case.
 If you couldn't guess from my blog name, we have a basset hound.
His name is Floyd.
I am almost as obsessed with Floyd as Taylor is with Harlow.
Almost.  
Hopefully next time we are in Chitown Harlow and Floyd can meet.
And have a love connection.
And I can meet Taylor
And we can further our blog love connection. 
I mean, have you met anyone funnier?
For reals.

As much as Floyd looks like a dog, he isn't much of a dog.
 In fact, he really doesn't do anything that 'normal' dogs do.
He doesn't:
-play fetch
-catch a ball
-sleep in a dog bed
-walk very well on a leash (he'd rather sit)
 -eat normal dog food (mr. sensitive stomach over here)
However, he does:
-snuggle like it's his job
 -bring you beers
 -help load the dishwasher
-protect the neighborhood
You win some, you lose some.

We once read that living with a basset is like living with a small clown in your house.
Truer words have never been spoken.
Ol boy has 0 coordination or skillz. 

Floyd would love for you to come visit our neck of the woods.

P.s. in honor of sponsoring Taylor's blog this month I am doing a giveaway too!
$15 gift card to Target!!
 
To enter follow the rafflecopter prompts:
Giveaway ends on Friday and the winner will be announced on Total Basset Case on Monday.

Now get over there already and win that gift card.

Speaking of winners... Congrats to Kaileigh @ The Osbott Spot for winning the group giveway!
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Monday, August 27, 2012

A Wedding, a Break In, and the Return of Harlow.

After an eight hour (hungover) drive home yesterday,
returning to a house that had been broken into,
and waking up today with a throat as painful and swollen as I've ever felt it-
I think I might make this a short post.

I took a personal day today.
And have slept for almost all of it,
only waking up for ten minutes at a time to pour myself another small bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

I'm going to let the pictures do the talking for right now.

The rehearsal din.
As you can see, the Three Weekend Dress made another appearance.
This was a great night.
And it would have been even better had I not missed the memo everyone was leaving the bar.
Because I was left.
Oh well, I made do.
It wasn't the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

The big day.
Note to self: don't Instagram a photo of the bride's dress before she puts it on.
Apparently that's a no-no.
Am I the only idiot who doesn't quite get wedding/bride rules?
It's all very confusing to me. Someone will have to give me a book on this stuff before I get married.

And in case you were wondering,
the "break in" was minimal. We got lucky...
The intruder came in through the front window in the middle of the afternoon!
The neighbors saw it and called the police immediately.
He wasn't caught, but all he managed to get away with was our ipad and a little bit of jewelry.
Nothing irreplaceable.
Harlow was in Nebraska, other wise we all know that intruder would have been torn to shreds.
And by "torn to shreds" I mean licked all over, and possibly peed on.

We got ourselves a fancy security system today.
So we should be good to go...
I'm just so thankful my light up pumpkin that sits in the window wasn't taken.
Talk about a close call!



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Thursday, August 23, 2012

Never Party Naked

I know I rarely get serious on here.
But every once in a while something very serious will happen in my life and I can't ignore it.
Like yesterday.
When I found out one of my friend's was severly taken advantage of.
I'm talking about my friend from across the pond, Prince Harry.
I loveeeeeee Prince Harry, and this goes way back.
So help me God if I ever get my hands on that pathetic person who released
those photos of him in Vegas.
How dare she.
First of all, to have the honor of being invited to his room for an after party,
and then to go and disrespect him by stealing his clothes,
snapping photos of him in such a vulnerable state,
and then to share the photos with the press!
Who does that? It's despicable.

"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but I'm Prince Harry,
strip poker, maybe?"

In exhibit 1: it is clear Harry is trying to protect himself.
There seems to be some naked thing creeping up behind him and he is
obviously shielding himself.

In exhibit 2: He is actually trying to tackle this naked creature as if to say
"Stop! No more!"
Neither of these photos would suggest he is having a good time.

I don't play strip poker. It's not my thing.
But if Prince Harry asked me to party. I'd probably say, sure.
But I would never go sell him out to the press afterward.
The British are our only ally at this point, I wouldn't risk it just for our country's sake.
And because I like Harry, obviously.
I appreciate the fact he's real.
He's like the royal party boy who doesn't care that he looks nothing like his "dad"
but everything like his mum's (RIP) boyfriend...

What has our world come to if even our royals can't party naked anymore
and still feel safe about it?

always. sometimes. never.
On the Royals

I've always wished I was a royal.
And yet, I know sometimes most times I'd make an awful royal.
I'd never match up to Kate. Then again, who does?

Harry has always been the fun one.
Willy has sometimes seemed a bit dull.
And Charles has never come across as anything but creepy.

On vegas

I've always said I''m not a fan of Vegas.
I realize it's sometimes a good time.
But I've never come away from that city, thinking "man, I can't wait to go back!"

Seriously though, I hate Vegas.

It's always full of the nastiest, money hungry, attention seeking people.
Sometimes you might get lucky and end up at a pool party where Prince Harry and Ryan Lochte are participating in an impromptu swimming race.
But that's never happened to me. And if it did, I'd never sell the photos to the press.
C'mon, I've got more class than that.

On the weekend

Lately, I've felt like I've always been packing a suitcase.
And sometimes that can get a bit tiring...
But never will I complain about packing a suitcase for a weekend that entails being a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding for which she and I go way back.

Lee/Seay wedding weekend here I come!!!


Now grab the button and link up.
The Daily Tay
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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Fall- It's How I Roll

Holy moly, did anyone else feel that shit storm blow through today?
Or was that just me?
I am ready to pull out my hair and slop down a few glasses of wine.
So I mentioned a few days ago how I inherited about 584 new accounts with my work,
and now I've actually had to start working.
Like really hard. And it kind of sucks.
I'm not for sure, but I think today I experienced what most people call "stress."
I had one call after the other after the other
and was writing a zillion little notes all over everything.
And now I have no idea what any of it means.
I've got names of schools and contact people and phone numbers and stars
and hearts and cats and addresses and three dimensional boxes covering everything on all of my papers from today.
If I had to guess, I'd say that
"Jane Wilson from Franklin Elementary needs 1 cat drawing and six different varieties of my signature sent her way ASAP?"
But that just doesn't sound right...
One of these days I should get myself a planner, I've heard those things really help.

And all I wanted to do today was sit around my house and bask in my new fall decor.
I didn't intend to decorate this early, I originally just wanted to search for one of my
fall scented candles.
Next thing I knew the pumpkins were out, and my table runner was orange.


And maybe it's because I've got all the windows open and a cold breeze is blowing in,
but my house just feels so fresh and clean right now.
So you can imagine my disappointment when I didn't get to lounge on my couch all day
and stare happily at my pumpkins.

inside view.
outside view.

It's the little things that excite me...
Like the fact it's almost time again to break me out some
Hocus Pocus and Double Double Toil and Trouble...
Classic films.

Anywho.
One of my lovely sponsors has been so kind as to donate a
$10 Starbucks gift card 
in honor of this wonderful fall season we are approaching.
So if you'd like to win yourself a free Pumpkin Spice latte
(or whatever it is you fancy)
Take a look at Jessica's blog over at Chic Sugar and then
1. Follow her
and 2. Follow me
additional entries: tweet about, Facebook about it, blog about it. 
{leave comments below as usual}

Then head back over here to check out two other wonderful blogs by Brook and Al.
Brook had me right when I found out her pup's name is George Bailey.
And Al writes in one of the most insightful and honest ways I have ever come across. 
Check them both out.

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l am SO excited to be greeting you from Taylor's fab blog!
My name is Jessica and l write over at Chic Sugar.
My blog is a collection of things, ideas, and what l am passionate about (original right?).
 The Chic comes from my very girly outlook and the sugar
is for my love for baking and dessert decorating.
You will also find WAY too many pictures of my dogs, Pinterest finds, and a dose of sarcasm.


I'm Brook at blog at Cutesy Bootsie
I'm a knitter, teacher (not of knitting), momma to a crazy lovebug dog named George Bailey, and find my happy place in the pedicure chair.
My blog posts tend to be about whatever I'm loving or challenges I face
whether it is my overstuffed closets, love of handbags and shoes,
 my quest for the perfect mascara or coffee mug (it's all about handle size),
or my obsession with crappy reality TV.


I'm Al.
Guacamole lover. Coffee fanatic. Teacher. Student. Actress. Divorcee. Newly married.
A Word of Caution: I'm brutally honest.
And I wear my heart on my sleeve.
You'll see that on my blog, Traffic Jelly.
I spent last fall in Istanbul, Turkey, and now I'm back in the states having
 just finished my Masters and working in education.
I. Love. Teaching. 
Almost as much as guacamole- don't tell my students.
Stop by and say hello - I always love to make new blog friends!
blog  // twitter // facebook // pinterest




PS- Congrats to Tara @ Penniless Socialite for winning
the Victoria's Secret gift card from last week!
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Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Back to School

I think it's officially here.
Back to school time.
I went to my first appointment today and all of the little kiddos were back in session.
And even though little kids usually bug me, I couldn't help but notice how darn cute
they all looked in their little navy and white uniforms.

First day of Kindergarden. My denim dress is so chic.

I've always loved this time of year.
And I can't pinpoint why exactly.
When I was little I think I was always just so excited
at the start of summer to do nothing for three months
(because those other months were so stressful)
And so by August it was always exciting to get the ball rolling again and get back in school.
I guess the same kinda goes for my "real life" job, as well.
I've spent the last three months watching cartoons, sleeping til noon,
and eating Dilly bars on the couch in my swimsuit.
It wasn't until just recently that I had to actually start getting dressed every day to go into my appointments.
So yea, turns out my life hasn't changed all that much since the 90s...

Back in the day I loved this time of year because it meant...

New school clothes. 
Sure wish my parents still took me on shopping sprees every August...
This shirt came from Gap Kids. So did the book bag. 
Let's pretend not to notice my brother scowling at me in the background.

School supplies. Hells yea.
Why don't new notebooks and new pens thrill me like they used to?

Cold lunch food: Dunkaroos. Gushers. Mini chips. Lunchables (nacho kind, please) Capri Sun.
Now this shit would still thrill me. In fact, I need to go buy some.

TGIF TV. Step by Step. Family Matters. Two of a Kind.
Not gonna pretend I don't still get excited about new fall TV. Hello "Breaking Amish" anyone?

Locker decor.
Again, why was a magnetic mirror so cool?

Friday nights at the rink. Skating rink that is.
Roller skating in elementary. And then the "dances" in middle school. Talk about a white trash extravaganza.

Dr. Marten Boots.
Mom & Dad, I truly thank you for the hundreds of dollars you spent on these yellow laced beauties every fall.
And yet I can't help but look back and wonder why on earth you did...
Because clearly these clunky shoes did not flatter my overly large feet, as noticed below...
Nor did they make up for my mouth-full-of-braces "smile."
(first day of 6th grade)
poor awkward eleven year old me...

As for today, 
I love this time of year for a whole new plethora of reasons:
Fall scented candles
Fall house decor
Pumpkin Lattes
(although I only actually drink one a year because they're too sweet for me)
Riding boots
Fall jackets
Shrugs, scarfs, and capes oh my!
And of course, Husker tailgating.
And Husker tailgating food.
And Husker tailgating friends.

And I think I need one more honorable mention for Cold Lunch food.
Because I just can't stop thinking about it now once I brought it up:
Nutter Butters, Zebra Cakes, Fruit by the Foot, String Things, Bugles, Ritz,
Jammers fruit snacks, Star Crunch, Fruit Roll Ups.
Holy shit, how did I not weigh 500 pounds as a kid?
Clearly I need an entire post devoted to this.

And now before you click away, can we all look at those 6th grade feet of mine one more time?

This has to got be a joke or something.
It looks like I'm wearing oversized cow bells on my feet.

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