this is why i'm hott

i made up a new word today.



put your hands together fooorrrr...

har·dyharharcis·sist n.

1. the attribute of the human psyche charactized by complete & utter admiration of oneself while simultaneously maintaining the ability (because you're so awesome, duh) to take a joke
   

simply put, a hardy-har-har-cissist is a narcissist that doesn't take himself/herself too seriously.



yes. i realize that this concept is a complete oxymoron.
that's the point.
that's why we NEEDED THIS WORD.



i love myself. i pretty much think i'm the funniest person alive.
i mean, why else would i have started a blog?


"what? you think i'm funny, too? oh, stop...you're making me blush!"



did i tell you that i'm also very intelligent [read: clever, witty, unmatched in brainpower]?


for those of you who don't bear the burden of being the smartest person alive, here is an easy to read explanation of why my word is so mind-blowing-ly awesome.



here is a compilation of the most accurate definitions of "hardy-har-har" that the world wide web has to offer

this particular one is my favorite [read: this one best satisfies my ego by proving the point i'm in the process of making]

"when something is funny, but is directed at you as a insult, shrug it off by saying hardy har har"


narcissists lack the ability to shrug things off. this is why they suck.

HARDY-HAR-HAR-CISSISTS, on the other hand, have an amazing sense of humor
(and obviously know full well that any insult directed their way is obviously just a result of extreme jealousy brought on by the fact that [insert hardy-har-har-cissist here] is the coolest person ever & that [insert jealous, not-so-cool person here]'s biggest accomplishment won't even live up to the hardy-har-har-cissist's biggest failure.)

want to tell me how much you hate me/i suck at life/smell/etc/etc/etc?

bring it on.
you're just fanning the fire.


hardy-har-harcissist is the better narcissist.


and it rhymes.





...with all that being said, if you don't tell me how much you love this post or tell me how hott my new facebook picture is i may cry myself to sleep every night until my body shrivels up like a raisin because i have drained every god-forsaken drop of water filtrating throughout my being out of my tear ducts.

so it turns out i'm allergic to the 1950's

once upon a time (read: time frame varies person to person) you were young.

you were rambunctious (guilty)
you thought it was okay to eat earthworms (don't judge me)
you were probably annoying the hell out of almost everyone you came into contact with (i never said i'd grow out of it)

but most of all, you were an innocent, unsuspecting little child whose life consisted of nothing but puppies and rainbows until BAM!



party's over, kid.



red, itchy bumps.

loads & loads of red, itchy bumps. they were red. they were itchy. and they were EVERYWHERE.

all of a sudden all of the puppies and the rainbows and yes, even the earthworms disappeared (i blame the witness protection program) and were replaced by long, torturous hours spent desperately trying to pry off the oven mitts that your parents duct-taped (all in the name of love, of course) onto your hands or soaking in giant, mucky oatmeal baths.

(not so bad, you say? tell that to 5-year-old kelly whose stomach would start doing summersaults at the mere MENTION of oatmeal)



those days have long since passed...


...OR HAVE THEY?


fast forward to now. and then rewind to about 2 months ago.


kelly wakes up.
kelly hits the snooze button.
repeat x6
kelly drags herself to the bathroom.
kelly looks in the mirror.
kelly looks like a blurry blob.
kelly yawns.
kelly stretches.
kelly puts in her contacts.
kelly looks in the mirror again.
kelly starts to reach for the WAIT A MINUTE WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!

short story short, kelly is covered in bumps. red, ugly little bumps. red, ugly little bumps that suddenly begin to ITCH.

fast forward through a steroid shot in the ass, obsessive application of a prescription face cream & the disposal of every moisturizer/shampoo/conditioner/yougetthepicture i had acquired over the past couple of months and all was well again.

or not.

repeat this x3. actually probably more like x4 or x5.


this is already too long so i'm going to cut to the chase because the whens/wheres/hows/whys don't really matter. what matters is that i'm allergic to pomade. yes, pomade.


definitely not joining this group



why this matters [read: why my dermatologist/this little allergy has RUINED MY LIFE]



exhibit a[ka what makes life worth living]



i am in utter despair over that which will now never be.

just because it's easy on the eyes doesn't mean you won't have to call poison control

[this product will rename nameless because i don't want to get sued]

once upon a time [read: saturday] i went to the grocery store.

once upon a time [read: saturday, 5 minutes later] i found a coupon for half-off of productwhomustnotbenamed on the floor of said grocery store.


now seeing as how i've spent the last two weeks finger-scooping (i know, i know, but if you can think of a better way to explain it i'm all ears) every last drop of my shampoo out of the obviously empty bottle AND i had just read somewhere (i think it was nylon magazine, actually...via twitter... *crickets*...) about the magical things that baby shampoo is capable of, i was convinced that this was a sign...



fast forward approximately 2.5 days (read: one hour ago)



and...ACTION (cue the clapperboard)


kelly takes a shower.

kelly goes to use her newly purchased shampoo.

kelly squeezes bottle of shampoo. nothing happens.

kelly unscrews lid of shampoo bottle.

kelly thinks: "hmmm, a quality seal? do all bottles of shampoo come with a quality seal? i don't remember a quality seal on my last bottle of shampoo. this is annoying."


kelly does the sensible thing and uses her teeth to remove quality seal from productwhomustnotbenamed.

in the process, kelly accidentally squeezes 1/4th of productwhomustnotbenamed INTO HER MOUTH.


kelly chokes. and accidentally swallows.

kelly chokes some more.


kelly has deja vu:

"my mouth is asleep like at the dentist"

kelly panics.

kelly frantically tries to rinse mouth out with the stream of water coming out of the showerhead.


kelly realizes that this is fruitless (read: like a dog trying to drink water out of a moving sprinkler head) and frantically pushes the lever down so that water begins to flow out of the tub faucet.


kelly has an even stronger sense of deja vu:


kelly rinses. and spits. and rinses. and spits. and rinses. and rinses. and spits.

kelly waits. kelly feels queasy. kelly's mouth/throat is still tingling.

kelly rinses...and spits...one final time.

kelly turns water off.

kelly decides to look up the ingredients before she overreacts and calls poison control.


...and SCENE.



fast forward to 10 minutes ago.

my stomach still hurt, my mouth was still kind of tingly, and this is what i had deciphered about my situation thanks to the powers of the internet.



ingredients:


water
(so far, so good)


cocamidopropyl betaine
according to wikipedia this is "a synthetic surfactant derived from coconut oil and dimethylaminopropylamine.^[1] it is a zwitterionic chemical compound with a quaternary ammonium cation.
("can you use the word in a sentence?"
"sure, which one?"
"umm, all of them?")
score one for calling poison control.


PEG-80 sorbitan laurate
"found naturally in various berries and fruits...used as a sweetening agent, food additive, toothpaste, tobacco..."
(off the hook with this one, but how the hell is this supposed to help clean my hair?)


sodium trideceth sulfate
"classified as not expected to be potentially toxic or harmful."
(this is the first...and last...thing i read about sodium trideceth sulfate)


fast forward to now.

i just got lazy. and tired. i still have at least 8 ingredients to look up. but i'm tired. and lazy. and i figure if 3 out of the first 4 ingredients won't kill me, then i'm off the hook.

unless, of course, there is a secret conspiracy group intent on "offing" me that knew that by the 5th ingredient i'd be too tired/lazy/a.d.d. to continue looking up random chemicals that have cryptic definitions that i'm too tired/lazy/a.d.d. to try to understand.


but for that to be the case, they'd also have to have:
a.) known i had run out of shampoo
b.) planted the coupon on the floor of a random HEB in random waco, texas
c.) known me well enough to know that i'm convinced i can use my teeth to accomplish ANYTHING [read: once upon a time (aka 2 months ago) while making a necklace i chipped my front tooth trying (& succeeding, i might add) to close a metal link...yes, with my teeth).


so yeah, i don't think i'm going to die. but my hair is still dirty.




stay tuned for: "zombie jesus" (read: why one day i'll be the richest motherfucker you know...and will most likely burn in hell for all eternity)