When I Was Eight, I Proudly Declared That I Knew That "WTF" Meant "Wow, That's Funny," And Have Been Using It All Over The Internet Since.

Welcome!

Tonight, we here at I Don't Skinny Dip I Chunky Dunk have quite a bit in stock for your entertainment. Why, you ask? Because it's the...

Yes folks! It really is the 1ooth Follower Spectacular! I, Eeshie of New York City, have successfully managed to reach 100 followers! Say it with me: Huzzah! Huzzah!

And let me tell you, kids. This 100th Follower Spectacular!  is going to be the longest, greatest, most awesome-est, most watermelon-flavored, cough-inducing post up to date! Hip hip hooray! Seriously. I'm going to make this post awesome. It'll take you a year and a half to complete it. You'll think of me and this post in your sleep. Just you wait...

Now to start the night off, I'd like to mention that I actually talked to Mr. Pedophilic Ice Cream Man on Sunday, the 17th (Learn about him on this post) My brother and I were forced to attend this huge fair/function/event/thing/possum with our parents that Sunday. We didn't know anyone. My friends and his friends were supposed to come, but they wouldn't be coming until hours later. So we were pretty much sitting there in the center of all the excitement, bored out of our minds.

I couldn't take it anymore, so I asked my brother if he'd walk around nearby blocks with me. Anything would be more interesting than what we were enduring now. He said yes and we were off.

As soon as we stepped out of the fair/function/event/thing/possum, that familiar little jangle came. I gritted my teeth.

"Ooh! I want ice cream!" My brother said, digging out his wallet for a few bills.

I gave my older brother a look.

"What?" he asked, confused.

I deepened the look.

"What?!"

"Yns. It's him."

"Ohh..." he said, remembering. "So I shouldn't get ice cream?"

I shrugged. "Eh, what the hell. You might as well get it."

We approached the truck. Mr. Pedophilic Ice Cream Man (we shall abbreviate him as Mr. PICM) had been sitting, but he glanced over at me while I was walking towards him. He sat up straight and poked his head out the window with this sleazy grin and a sly look to his eyes.

Oh yeah. And he was wearing a do-rag. Ha ha!

He basically eyed me up and down, just like that (I was wearing this really dazzling dress for the fair/function/event/thing/possum.), over and over. And then he saw my brother, tall and looming with this steely look on his face.

He stopped.

There was a moment of silence for a few seconds, as both Yns and Mr. PICM looked at each other. Then, my brother spoke.

"How much for a vanilla cone?"

"Vanilla cone?" Mr. PICM asked. He seemed a bit disoriented with my brother standing there. HA. "Uh...two dollars."

 That's overpriced! I thought immediately. I realized how childish I sounded to myself, complaining. Really, I was just annoyed with him, no matter how high or low the price of his ice cream was. And then, I realized both my brother and Mr. PICM were staring at me. And then, horrified, I realized that I had spoken those two words out loud.

Aw, shee-it.

I tried turning this act of my stupidity into a diss for him. I shot him this sugar-coated smile, the kind that could only be described as sickeningly sweet. It was wayyy fake; even a drunk could tell. Again, I immediately said, "That's overpriced." Cue the smile.

Most people back off when they see this evil smile of mine. This smile of mine means, “Cut the crap.” But Mr. PICM wasn't fazed. At all. In fact, he welcomed my smile. Did not question it at all. For all I know, he probably thinks I'm interested.

He smiled back. "Sorry, all the ice cream around here has the same price."

Seeing that he was not fazed, and now annoyed at myself more than anything, I simply turned on my heel and walked away, scowling. Yns followed suit.

After we were away from his ears, I asked my brother, "Do you think he recognized me?"

"I don't know," my brother snapped. He seemed a bit annoyed.

I stopped. "What?"

Yns hesitated, and then spit it out. "You were too friendly with him! And you smiled too much!"

I was surprised. I hadn't thought I was smiling too much. In fact, the smile I had given him was one I had delicately crafted years ago for one purpose: teachers I hated. Over the years, I gave it a few tweaks here and there to serve other purposes, such as showing a certain pedophilic ice cream dude how much I hate him. But it never occurred to me that my cleverly crafted smiles could backfire...

Well. Guess it's back to the mirror -- ahem, drawing board for me.


And now on a completely random note, here are a series of pictures that I found on the web a few weeks ago. Enjoy!

A Pictorial Guide to Avoiding Camera Loss by Andrew McDonald

Wasn't...that...EPIC?!?!

You know, the fair/function/event/thing/possum wasn't all that bad, I have to admit. I ended up leaving with a $50 giftcard to Barnes & Noble, which I intend on spending very, very soon (Any suggestions as to what books I should buy?) My brother got one, too. About eight people did. They were all for teens who got into those really hard to get into schools that I mentioned many posts ago. Remember what I'm talking about? I got into the second best (some call it the best, but I call it second best) high school in New York City, and my brother got into THE best high school in New York City. Whoo!

Yeah, so my brother and I both had to go on stage with our parents to receive the award. Not fun. And while holding our giftcards and certificates and roses, we had to put on our best smiles and wait for the camera flashing to stop so we could leave. My lips felt like rubber after that one.

After stumbling off the stage, I ran into Lydia!  You know, the creepy girl who has made me her rival/target and hates me because I'm smart? And therefore has added me to her list of competition?

She (and I hate to admit this) looked rather cute in her dress. "Eeshie!" she exclaimed. We complimented each others dresses and she asked me what I had received. I showed her the gift card and she ran to the stage to get hers.

Oh yeah. Guess I didn't mention that. Lydia and I both got into the same amazing school. With me getting a single point higher than her on the admission test. *Phew*


We left shortly after getting our awards. I was so happy about that. We ditched the dumb fair/function/event/thing/possum and hit up the Chinese fast food restaurant. Hell yeah.

Oh yeah! Almost forgot to mention! I got an award! What a timing, right? My first award, just as I reach 100 followers. I'm epic like that.

I got this lovely award from one of my newest followers, Mr. Lamebutt! His blog is lovely as well. You should really check it out. Really. Check it out. I want you to check it out. Hence the link I've provided to all of you so that all of you can have the joy of reading his lovely blog. 

...

Go on now. 

 

And now is the part where I'm supposed to give the One Lovely Blog Award to nine other bloggers. Once again, like I did with the tagging, I'm picking these nine people randomly. You can't expect me to pick the loveliest blogs. I'd end up picking all of them. So I'm picking randomly. Please standby...

________________________________________

Kay, I'm back! Weirdly, some blogs got picked again. Ha!

First up is Ash of The Cheesecake Paradox. Very awesome blog. A great read. I've completely abandoned all homework and studies to read his blog multiple times in the past, and will surely continue to do so. It's worth getting yelled at by Ms. Attorney. His blog is really good. One of my all-time favorite posts of his was his most recent one. This is the link to it. You need to read it. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Well, not warm and fuzzy. Reflective and contemplative is more like it.

And it's hard to believe that Ash could get any better, but he can! He was the one who introduced me to writing "Peas out" rather than "Peace out." And for this, I will love him forever and always ten times more.

Next up we have Natalie of A Natalie Moment. People don't get sweeter than her. Or more down-to-earth. She's so nice! I love her! Whenever I post something new, and I see that Natalie has commented, I get all happy and excited inside because she seriously leaves the best comments ever. I love the comments she leaves me. They just make my day. As does her blog. You had better press that link, or I shall come after you.

And now we have Furree Katt of...um...Furree Katt! (Her screen name is the same as her blog name.) Her blog is awesomely spunky. The stories she put up there make me laugh insanely. And since she's a teacher (at seventeen. Ain't it cool?), she has pictures and stories of her adorable students on occasion. You need to press this link as well!

The next award-ee is Ryan Mace of Music=Love and Life. Pretty deep title there if you ask me. His writing is amazing. I don't know how many times I've said this. I'm saying it again. He's one of the best poets on Blogger I know. I've seen a lot of poetry blogs on Blogger, and some of them just suck. Some of them are okay, but they could definitely use improvement. And some of them just bore me to tears. But this blog? Ryan Mace of Music=Love and Life? It's amazing and it's perfect and Ryan Mace is a very talented eighteen year old. That's all I've got to say.

Four down. Five to go. Gosh, this is really wearing me out.

Mandy Thomas of Trouble In Mind. She's cool. And funny. And quirky. And I guess I'd have to call her "crazy at times in a good way" after watching her Charlie Sheen Impression.   Watch it!!

Boyd of Boyd's World! This blog is about a really cool dude named Drew Morgan who has AWESOME HAIR! And um...oh yeah! He plays in this really, really, really good band (you can watch their videos on Youtube -- they're called Crush of Society.) Listen to their songs. They're actually good. Andddd, he has AWESOME HAIR!!

Well, well. Looks like I'm awarding Noah Brown of Brown's Eye. He really is a swell blogger. And as I said in my last post, he's so good at surprising. I'm not kidding about this -- out of nowhere a random joke about bitches will come. Who knew?! And I found out that him and I must be soulmates, because he lives in New Jersey. And that's where I used to live up until the end of last September (2010). That's when I moved to where I live now, NYC. I'm telling you. Soul. Mates.

That Blond Guy of The Nerd Archives is a fantastic blogger as well whose blog definitely surpasses loveliness. It's way more than that. It's way too funny. Seriously. Who gave him the right to be that funny?!? I want to know! Oh yeah, and I found out yesterday that I'm his wife. Who knew, right?!? Sweet!

Ah. Last but nowhere near the least, I give the award to Misticalnia at Candles, who happens to be one of my best friends in the whole world and is also my dear cousin. We kind of grew up with each other because we saw (and still see) each other frequently. She's awesome. I love her and her blog. You need to click on that link.

*breathes*

PHEW! I'm done! God! That took me like an hour! You know how long it takes a half-drunk person driving a car with her feet through a cornfield with screaming babies in the backseat to be able to type good things about nine people onto a tiny keyboard the size of a tomato?!?

Nah, just kidding. But it was still difficult. Here's a break from all that reading.

My longtime friend Mischeif Managed introduced me to Bo Burnham. Heard of him? No? Well today is your lucky day. I'm going to introduce him to all of you.

Bo Burnham, as Wikipedia would put it,  is a comedian, singer-songwriter, musician, actor, and Internet celebrity. Writing comedic and satirical songs with a politically incorrect slant, he became famous when his YouTube videos took off.

Thank you, WikiSearch.

The following video is of him freaking out live, as the title says. The rap he's performing is one that he wrote himself called "I'm Bo Yo." It's hilarious. Before you watch the video I'm putting up here, you should probably watch his original one on YouTube. My God, this guy is funny. And I'm not one to say that. I usually get annoyed by these YouTube celebrities. But Bo Burnham? He's the exception. He's the most clever lyricist I've seen up to date, and this video is basically him falling apart on stage. In the very best way possible.

Watch. It.





Did you liiiiiike it?

Are there any more awesome people on YouTube that I don't know about? Damn. I must have been missing out on these guys for all these years.


APRUPT TOPIC CHANGE

A five-year-old at my mosque once asked me tentatively during weekend Arabic studies, "Eeshie?"

"Yes?" I answered.

"Do you have a crush on someone?"

I didn't bother looking up. "Do you?" I asked lazily.

"I asked you first!" she said sounding nervous.

I sighed and looked up from what I was doing. "All right, all right. Don't get a heart attack. No, I don't have a crush on anyone."

She was quiet.

"Why? I asked, teasing. "Do you?"

Her squirming made my day. But instead of answering, she asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

I was slightly amused at her question, a little shocked, a just a teeny bit scared because she knew my name and I didn't know hers. (Not surprising. Everyone at mosque under ten loves me, and therefore knows my name. Hey, I'm just awesome like that.)

"Why are you asking me questions like this?" I asked her. "I mean, we are in the mosque."

I was hoping she would get the hint. But five-year-old's don't know what hints are.

"So?"

"Well," I said, lowering my voice so the teachers wouldn't hear me. "Dating is forbidden in Islam, so we shouldn't talk about it while in the mosque."

"But Nadine has had eight boyfriends!" the girl wailed.

I glared at the child and put an angry finger to my mouth to quiet her, as two of the teachers looked over at us.

"Well, Nadine is...Nadine...she..." I didn't know what to say. Nadine is one of my friends, and yeah, she has dated eight dudes. And it isn't exactly right, but I didn't want to outright say it.

"Well..." I said, struggling to come up with something. Finally, I settled for a lame excuse. "Well, she's older than you."

"So? I thought it didn't matter how old you are in Islam. I thought it's bad, no matter how old you are."

"Okay, okay you're right. Nadine is doing something wrong. She shouldn't be dating people."

The little girl seemed content.

"You're really happy now, aren't you, kid?" I mumbled. I should've just stayed quiet, because now the girl had a new line of questions.

"Eeshie, do you wear a hijab when you're at school?"

OH NO. THE DREADED QUESTION.

"Er...no."

"What?"

"No, I don't," I murmured under my breath.

"What?"

"NO, I DON'T. I DON'T WEAR A HIJAB AT SCHOOL. I KNOW, I KNOW. I'M A BAD PERSON. I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WEARING A HIJAB AT THIS AGE. I KNOW."

Little girl was quiet. After a long silence, she said, "Well...that's not good."

I didn't answer. This little girl was unbelievably good at making me feel guilty for not being more Islamic.

"Eeshie? Did you ever touch a boy?"

"Go away."

 She giggled all the way back to her seat. I shook my head. I was never going to answer that question...

So there's this artist mom with a baby who found that she could not do a lot of her work now that she has a child. But this mom is creative, so she found a way to incorporate her art into taking care of her baby. While her baby slept on the ground, she'd rearrange and arrange and rearrange everything around the kid to give it a theme.

And now I give you...

Interesting Things To Do With Your Baby While They're Sleeping!



Rainy Baby!



Mary Poppins Baby!

Musical Baby!

Princess and the Pea Baby!

Clothesline Baby!

Walkin' in the Park Baby!

Butterfly Baby!

Bookworm Baby!

Bunny Baby!

Desi Baby!

That was way too cute, wasn't it? WAY too cute.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention who my 100th follower was. Congratulations Anthony, for making the life-changing decision to follow my blog. To appreciate your kindness, I give you this baby.

Oh yes, Anthony. Oh yes.

So. I'll be going to Barnes & Noble tomorrow with that $50 giftcard. Any book suggestions? Please? I want to read a really, really, insanely good book.

My brother and I were volunteering at the doctor's office my mom volunteers at today. You know - getting in hours and all that? I want to have as much hours as humanely possible for National Honors Society. Currently, I have 99 hours. But none of it was done this year. I got those hours last summer and the summer before that. I need hours for this year.

Anyway. I went there happily, thinking that I'd return with some note-worthy stories to share here. But no. Nothing happened. NOTHING. It was so...so...boring!

Ah, well. Maybe next time, eh?

Ha.

Oh! You have to read this! I randomly came across this on the web a few days ago. They're comebacks that every woman needs to say at least once in her life. I was laughing at these.

 

Man: “Haven’t I seen you someplace before?
Woman: “Yeah, that’s why I don’t go there anymore.”

Man: “Is this seat empty?”
Woman: “Yes, and this one will be too if you sit down.”

Man: “Your place or mine?”
Woman: “Both. You go to yours and I’ll go to mine.”

Man: “I’d like to call you. What’s your number?”
Woman: “It’s in the phone book.”
Man: “But I don’t know your name.”
Woman: “That’s in the phone book too.”

Man: “So what do you do for a living?”
Woman: “I’m a female impersonator.”

Man: “Hey, come on, we’re both here at this bar for the same reason.”
Woman: “Yeah! Let’s pick up some chicks!”

Man: “I’m here to fulfill your every sexual fantasy.”
Woman: “You mean you’ve got both a donkey and a Great Dane?”

Man: “I know how to please a woman.”
Woman: “Then why aren’t you leaving me alone?”

Man: “I want to give myself to you.”
Woman: “Sorry, I don’t accept cheap gifts.”

Man: “If I could see you naked, I’d die happy.
Woman: “Yeah, but if I saw you naked, I’d probably die laughing.”

Man: “Your body is like a temple.”
Woman: “Sorry, there are no services today.”

Man: “I’d go through anything for you.”
Woman: “Good! Let’s start with your bank account.”

Man: “I would go to the end of the world for you.
Woman: “Yes, but would you stay there?

Girl power! Whoo!

Yes, guys can definitely be annoying at times. My friend Logan was walking me home halfway a couple weeks ago (Don't ask...), and we somehow got into the topic of his girlfriend.

"So, Paula got reeeeally amazing grades for the third quarter," I said, teasing him. "You must be a really lucky guy."

"Yeah, I guess..." he murmured.

"What's wrong? Oh, God no. Don't tell me you're...you're...jealous of her grades?!" I asked, horrified.

"No, no! Of course not!" he assured me. "It's just that...sometimes I wish..."

"What? What do you wish? What?! Tell me!"

"Naw, you're definitely going to slap me.”

“No! No, I promise I won't!”

“Well...” he said, scratching his head. Finally, he blurted it out. “I wish Paula had bigger boobs!”

I slapped him.

“What the hell!? You said you weren't going to slap me!”

“Yeah, and when I met you, I thought you were an okay guy,” I said angrily. “How can you say that?!”

“What?” he asked sheepishly. “I'm a teenage guy. With teenage guy thoughts. You can't possibly expect anything else from me.”

“Logan! Oh my God, do you know how selfish that was?! And...and rude?! And sexist?! And rude?!? And mean?! And cruel?! And...and...” I was getting breathless.

“Eeshie, calm down. Don't yell at me. I mean, come on. It's not like you don't wish your boyfriend had a bigger dick.”

I was confused. “But I don't have a boyfriend.”

Logan snapped his fingers. “Exactly!”

?

I shook my head. “Logan, you're not making any sense. You, as Paula's boyfriend, should be the last person wishing she looked differently. In fact, you shouldn't want her to be changed in any way. You should like her just the way she is!”

He broke out in song. “Cause you're amazing...just the way you are...”

“Logan. Dude. I'm serious,” I said in a flat voice.

He stopped. “All right, all right. I won't say it ever again.”

“Good.”

-Silence-

“But it's annoying, you know? It has to be my girlfriend with the small boobs?” he asked indignantly to no one in particular.

“Man, shut up. I don't want to hear you.”

But no. Logan was getting quite fired up. “I mean, it's just not fair! Can't Paula have bigger boobs like...like Macy's? Or Zainab's? Or MH's? Or yours?”

I instinctively raised my books in front of my chest. “Dude. You've got some serious issues.”

“No, I'm serious!”

“You know, it's weird that you have so much time to check out other girls' boobs. Isn't it?”

“Can you give Paula some pointers on getting big boobs?”

Now here, I didn't know whether to bite his head off or crack up. I did both.

I smacked his shoulder with my book. “Logan! Shut up!” And then I laughed. He took this as a good sign.

“So are you going to do it?”

My expression changed. Annoyed, I said, “No.”

-Silence-

“Okay, I guess it wasn't the nicest thing to say.”

“You got that right.”

We continued walking.

“All right, I'm sorry. It's not my fault that I've got the desires of a teenage boy.”

“Logan, you should really appreciate Paula. She's sweet, pretty, sings amazing, and she's really smart. Big boobs aren't the main focus in a relationship, you know.”

He nodded solemnly. “Thank you for that wonderful insight, Oprah.”

“You're really funny, Logan,” I said, giving him the same smile I had given the ice cream man. He froze.

“Okay, I'm sorry. For real this time. Jesus Christ. Next time you smile at me like that, I swear I'm going to wet my pants.”

I grinned (Regularly this time).

“You're really scary, Eeshie.”

“I know, right? I can't stand looking at mirrors because I just start screaming.”

“If I had that smile of yours, I would, too. In fact, I'd get plastic surgery to change it.”

“You're totally right. I should get plastic surgery to change this scary face of mine.”

“Yeah. I bet all the mothers steer clear of you because you make their babies cry.”

“Hmm.”

“And I bet the teachers give you good grades just so that you'll stay away from them.”

“Ha. Ha ha. Funny.”

“And I bet all the villains of the world are scared of you and your freaky smile.”

“Ha. Okay, now shut up.”

We parted our ways after that, him running off like a little school-girl, calling some more insults as he did.

Dumba$$. And that's me using the term nicely.

I think I'll end this post soon. I bet ya'll are getting sick of me by now. My God, I'm practically getting sick of myself by now. I started writing this post on Monday, and it's Wednesday now, and I'm finally finishing it. Hot damn.

I'm asking again: Does any one have any good book suggestions? I'm going to Barnes & Nobles tomorrow, and I've got a $50 giftcard. I need to spend it.

Now, since I enjoy going out with a BANG! here's a heartbreaking video that you must watch. I've linked to it before, but I have a feeling that only one or two of you actually watched it. So here it is again, right in front of your face. Tell me if you cried. I cried while watching this. Tell me if you did.

Ain't it deep?

Well, looks like I'm going to go now. But before I leave, I'll tell you why I made such a big deal of reaching 100 followers and changed the background solely for this post and went all berserk. It's basically because I seriously never thought I'd reach this much followers. Back in November 2010, when I first sat down and thought, "Hey. Why don't I start a blog?" I only had five followers. Three of them were friends from my old school, one was my cousin, and the last one was me. And that was it. It went like that for a while, but slowly I got my sixth follower. Then my seventh. And then my tenth. And then my fourteenth. And then my twentieth (God, I had like a heart attack when I reached 20 followers). And somehow, I now have 100 followers. And I mean, even though I'm just some random hormonal teenage girl who you probably passed on the street a few days ago without realizing it, and even though it's just my dumb old, rinky-dink blog, I still feel like I accomplished something. You know?

And I just want to say thanks. You guys all cheer me up on those ugly, horrible days where I either feel like smashing a carton of eggs against Lady Gaga's expensive couch or just curling up in a ball on my bed and weeping softly with my pink Snuggie around me. (I'm weird). I know I say this a million times, so it probably sounds fake, but you guys seriously make me smile and cheer me up. Some of your words of comfort or your words of support or just your hilarious jokes make me happy again. And for that, I'll be in debt to you for a million years.

Cheers, my friends. To 100 followers, and perhaps many more in the future. Thank you.