Things I will never do, so stop asking

English: Illustration of a shocked, or frighte...

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There are many situations in which I get asked if I’ll do something that I would never in a million years do.  This happens slightly less often since I graduated from school, but it still comes up a little more frequently than I’m really comfortable with.  It only takes one drunk friend on Facebook, you know?  Plus, now that I’ve started a blog, I get random requests from people I don’t know but who think they know me because they read the blog.

 

So here’s a list of some of the more frequent and/or bizarre requests that I will never, ever do, so stop asking.  Please.

1.  The cinnamon challenge

This is where people attempt to swallow a tablespoon of cinnamon in under a minute without drinking anything and without vomiting or inhaling the powder.  Apparently, this totally sucks, although I really think I could have figured that out on my own when part of the challenge involves not vomiting.  Schools are banning kids from sneaking in cinnamon to do this during school hours, and at least one principal has been suspended for not cracking down on this growing menace.  Cinnamon as contraband?  Well, whatever, I guess.  But no, I’m not taking the cinnamon challenge.  Stop asking.  As a consolation, here’s Jenna Marbles, one of my favorite vloggers, taking the cinnamon challenge dressed as Drake.  Awesome.

 

2.  Eat my broccoli

Broccoli

Broccoli (Photo credit: Cookthinker)

I’m a grown woman, living on my own, and I don’t wanna eat my broccoli.  You can’t make me.  No you can’t.  No you can’t.  No you can’t.  No no no no no!  I don’t like the way it tastes, I don’t like the way it smells, and I don’t want to eat it.  You know what?  Broccoli’s going in the trash!  Oh, no, is that the sound of a green vegetable hitting the bottom of the trashcan?  Yes, I believe it is.  Broccoli’s gone.  Never gonna eat it.  Stop asking.  On with the ice cream!

3.  Make a sex tape

Never gonna happen.  Stop asking.

4.  Drink tequila.

tequila

tequila (Photo credit: doviende)

That stuff’s nasty.  And there are worms, and if there are worms anywhere near any beverage, I’m not drinking it.  I’m not exactly one for little frou-frou girly drinks, but tequila is seriously icky.  I think people keep drinking it because they don’t remember in the morning how nasty it is.  They just wonder why they have their underwear around their necks.  In my experience, there are much more pleasant ways to end up with underwear around your neck–although when tequila is involved, it’s probably just as well to black out.  So, no, I don’t want a shot of tequila.  Not the cheap stuff, not the expensive stuff, not even if there’s no worm.  Stop asking, and bring me a beer.

 

5.  Learn to cook

I’ve tried.  I have cookbooks and I’ve watched cooking shows and I’ve planned romantic home cooked meals for current honeys.  But, dude, I’m blind.  As a result of my attempts at cooking, I’ve got scars all up and down my arms, nearly chopped off a finger, and ended up in the emergency room more than once.  I also set off the smoke alarms about a third of the time, and whenever I try to chop onions I have to lie down for twenty minutes with a damp cloth over my eyes.  Take out rocks.  Delivery rocks even harder.  I can order chinese food like a mofo.  Little Kung Pao Girl, that’s me.  I tried to learn to cook, and I failed.  Stop asking, or my health insurance company is going to drop me.

So there it is.  Five things I Absolutely Will Not Do.  Unless Johnny Depp asks me, and even then, he’d have to be dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow.  So stop asking.  Unless you’re Johnny Depp dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow.  Are you?

Captain Jack Sparrow

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Grocery shopping, pirate-style

Captain Jack Sparrow

Image via Wikipedia

This is what it’s like in my head when I drink way too much Red Bull and then go grocery shopping while trying to come up with a topic for a blog post:

Avast, ye scurvy internet dogs!  This be the dread Captain LBG.  The ship be low on vittles, and our mission be to plunder yon grocery store to replace our dwindling supplies.  We’ll fall on the unsuspectin’ townsfolk and carry off their produce, their women, and their doubloons.  Be not faint of heart, ye scallywags, but follow me to glory, treasure, and victuals!

Where be the salted beef?  I have no learnin’ meself, but me first mate says this label reads “Organic, Free Range.”  What be the meanin’ o’ this nonsense?  Must I be killin’ the cow meself?  Ahoy, here be eggs!  Aye, “farm fresh” indeed.  In all my world-wanderings under the Jolly Roger, I’ve yet to see a farm with the looks of this store.  But they’ll fry well enough, or I’ll come back and make the store clerk walk the plank!

What lily-livered, black-hearted trick is this?  “Cran-apple raspberry juice beverage”?  Shiver me timbers, this be only ten percent juice!  Even pirate scum such as meself would not be pulling something so mean as this.  Merciless attack on a naval vessel, naturally; ransoming a beautiful lass, of course; but even a pirate has his limits.  Down to the depths with the bottom-feeding landlubbers who make juice beverages!

Back to the ship, ye good-for-nothing sons of dogs!  It be serving us right for shopping at Davy Jones’ Groceries.  Just one more stop for a bottle of rum and we’re off.  Haul the anchor or I’ll keelhaul the lot of ye!  Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!