Thursday, August 18, 2011

How to Seduce Any Woman

Imagination Station:

Sterling Rambo here.  That's right ladies and gentlemen, I'm back.  It's been awhile because I was busy doing manly things on an uber manly man adventure in the manly town known as San Francisco.  As a man, I feel it is my manly duty to illustrate my man powers to bagging any chick.  And by bagging, I mean getting romantically involved, not literally putting a bag on a woman.  That's never acceptable, unless if she's ugly.

Here are some sure fire tips to seduce any woman:

1. Be a man, a well groomed man.  Chicks dig the facial hair, if it's done right.

  This is a questionable choice of facial hair.  And that was an incredibly manly and punny choice of words.

2. Roofies.  You'll have her head over heels.

3. Play a Barry White song.

 4. Or be Barry White. 

5. Be incredibly rich.  Make it rain dollar bills.  Or, if you're a high-roller, make it rain quarters.  She'll be weak in the knees when she hears those quarters hit the ground.

6. Write her a poem or google one.


Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're so hot
As am I too
So let's make babies

7.  Learn to speak as if you were an English gentleman with a gentlmanly air about your manliness, to which she shall not be able to resist.

8.  Enhance your manly odor.  Bathing in cologne is necessary.

Go forth you manly men and swoon all the ladies.  Make Papa Sterling proud. 

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Five Ways to Pay for College

Imaginary Station:

This is how a high-roller rolls.

College costs are on the rise, and you, the poor impoverished college student, needs to find a way to pay for it.  Well, here are some sure-fire ways you can pay for college:

1. Strippin' to pay for Law/Medical School 

2. Win the lottery

3. Befriend a lonely, rich, old person

4. Find buried treasure

5. Pay with Monopoly money.  They'll never know the difference.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Booty Shorts

Imagine these in a neon pink. 

Today I was scared for life by neon pink booty shorts and the reason I call those shorts booty shorts and not short shorts is because half of her ass was hanging out of them.  Classy.

She was working out and decided to stop at the tables outside Whole Foods to stretch.  Look, I get it.  It's hot out, you're hot and sweaty when you work out, but another inch or so longer shorts is not going to take you from "Oh, these shorts are so breezy and light" to "OMG I'm gonna die!  It's so hot.  These shorts are gonna make me get a heat stroke."

So for heaven's sake lady outside of Whole Foods, get some longer shorts.  I don't want to see your booty.  I just wanted to go buy a tuna sandwich, my Guayaki tea, and then go home and enjoy my lunch, but now I have that horrible image ingrained in my mind.  If part of your butt-cheek is hanging outside your shorts, then they might just be a tad too short.

Heck, go ahead and classy them up and bedazzle "JUICY" across them, because I don't think anyone noticed your half-of-my-ass-is-hanging-out neon pink shorts.

Are those even legal to wear?

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Tiny Thoughts with Tiffany 3

Imagination Station:

Every Tuesday, Tiffany, the most popular girl at her school, shares her thoughts of the day.  Some are funny, others serious, but they are always poignant and deep. 

So, like hi everybody out there.  It's summer, and I'm like totally having the most epic summer ever.  I've been tanning and reading and tanning.  Yeah, I know, you've actually been reading Tiffany?  Yeah, actually I totally have been and it's been like really awesome.  I stopped reading Seventeen Magazine and decided to go with some that had like a more harder word choice.  So, I picked up a copy of Cosmo.  Really hard word choice.

#1 pencil ;) LOLZ
Anyway, I had another thought today and I decided it was time to share it with you all.  I was shopping for a new Fendi purse online and put it in my shopping cart and then it asked for a credit card.  I went to talk to my mom and I wrote down her credit card info, but before I did that, I had to find a pencil so I could write it down.  Who knew that pencils are not only great for erasing, but for writing too?  I know, I was totally shocked.

So, I went to my mom's desk and grabbed a pencil.  Then it hit me.  Like why are #2 pencils still #2 if they're like the most popular pencils?  We always have to use them on tests and like have you ever seen a #1 pencil?  No.  So, why aren't #2 pencils #1?  It's like so confusing.  Maybe it's a political statement.  Or like an error.  Like when the pencil guys were writing out the name, they like totally meant #1 but wrote #2 and then didn't spell check it.  


Like that was my so very thoughtful thought of the day, so hope you guys enjoyed it :)  And if not, then whatever.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Trapped in a Sea of Giant Crabs

Imagination Station:

Sterling Rambo has a manly man adventure, because he's a man.

My name is Sterling Rambo, and I'm a man.  Yes ladies, a hunky, sexy piece of American man beef equipped with two guns: the left and the right bicep.  And those guns saved my life when I went out on a date with Bunny Sexton to a quant little marsh.

We (Bunny, Bunny's bountiful bosoms, and I) were having a swell time at the marsh.  She wore khaki booty shorts and a red top that showed off the twins.  I wore pants and no shirt.  Why?  It was hot out, and I'm hot because I have massive amounts of man muscle and man hair.  Testosterone is my middle name.  No.  Actually it's not.  It's Wilbur.

Anyway, I was just about to close the deal with Bunny (she promised to give me a signed poster of my man idol Ricky Martin), when out of no where, giant crabs attacked us.

"Oh Sterling," Bunny moaned.  "Help me.  These giant crabs are attacking me.  Oh, I must put my hand near my face and look dramatically towards you to plead for help with my eyes."

"Bunny, don't fret, I'll hop over there and save you," I said, running in manly slow motion to get to her.

"Oh hurry Sterling.  These crabs are about to rip all my clothes off," Bunny cried.

I paused for a moment.  "My God," I looked at her.  "All of your clothes?"

"Yes Sterling.  Every shred."

"My God, how dare they," I cocked my pistol.  "I won't let those crabs defile you.  That's my manly man job."

I continued running in slow motion towards her, firing my pistol as I shook my manly man head so my manly mane could billow in the breeze.

Bang.  Bang.  Pow.  Zip.  Splat.  Bang.  Bzz.  Tzz.  Bang.  Boom.  

And it was all over.  The crabs were gone, but so was Bunny.  I got to her too late.  The crabs had killed her.  It was sad and almost brought a man tear to my eye, but luckily that whole escapade didn't make me late for my date with Savannah Michaels.

Anyway, there is a manly moral to this manly story about manly hero-ness:  Crabs kill.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Tiny Thoughts With Tiffany 2

Imagination Station:

Every Tuesday, Tiffany, the most popular girl at her school, shares her thoughts of the day.  Some are funny, others serious, but they are always poignant and deep. 

So like hey guys, it’s Tiffany again, and I’ve got like another tiny thought for Tuesday, so like be super excited to hear it.  Are you super excited to hear it?  Okay, good.  

So, I was totally skipping school today because it was a school day, and I think like learning is stupid.  I'm already educationed.  The way I see it, there are two goals to school.  One is being literate, which I can totally read.  I read Seventeen Magazine all the time.  The other is basic adding.  One plus one equals eleven.  High five to myself for my awesome math skills.

Anyway, since I already learneded stuff, I went to my friend Ashley's house and hung out there.  She has an aquarium with fish.  I thought that was not cool, so I told Ashley that having an aquarium was animal abuse.

And then she said, "Like why do you think that?"

And then I was like, "Ashley, like OMG, are you for realz?  Like you're drowning your fish."

And then she was like, "Oh, but Tiffany, fish live in water."

But then I was like, "BS Ashley.  If they live underwater, then how can they breath?"

Ashley totally took a pensive pause at this pivotal poignant moment. (OMG, like thumbs up for my alliterizing skills.  I knew I skipped English class for a reason.)  Then she said, "IDK Tiffany, you should google it."

We totally googled it.  Apparently, fish have gills.  

That was my thought for the day.  Glad you guys enjoyed it.  Stay pretty my pretty people.  Oh, but if you're ugly, get pretty and then stay pretty.  

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Interview Dos and Don'ts

Imagination Station:

Do you have an interview, but not the skills do well in that interview?  Well, you've come to the right place.  Learn the dos and don'ts of interviewing so you can make an impression and get that job!


1. Behave like a pretentious ass.  This will show your leadership skills off nicely.  You may even be promoted to CEO instantly.

2. Come with gifts/large sums of money.  It's not bribery if you call it a present.
This look is perfect for
the office.  Not too much
skin is showing.  Very
classy.  You'll totally nail
that interview. 

3. Look classy.

4. When they ask you how you would perform day to day operations, tell them you would do things "like a boss."

5. When they ask you what your most negative quality is, tell them it's your "need to be perfect" or that you're a "workaholic."  Just be careful not to confuse workaholic with alcoholic.

6. Beg for the job.  Tell them the sad story about your mom in the hospital and your kids having to fight children on the street for breadcrumbs.  Even if it isn't true, tell them anyways.  People love stories.

7.  Use big words.  It will make you sound intelligent.  Don't know what ubiquitous means?  Neither will they.

8.  Speak in a British accent.

9.  Talk about your achievements.  Don't have any?  Make them up.  Remember when you recently won the [insert random letters and pretend they stand for an important organization's name] Most Awesomest Person of the Century?  Sure you do.

You look like a hooker.
What were you thinking?

1.  Don't prepare for the interview.

2.  Don't tell the truth.  Honesty isn't the best policy.

3.  Don't wear yellow.

4.  Don't act respectfully.  You need to establish yourself as the alpha dog, and not the pussy cat.

5.  Don't dress slutty.

6.  Don't listen to what the person interviewing you is saying.  It doesn't matter what they ask.  It just matters how you answer.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Tiny Thoughts With Tiffany

Imagination Station:

Every Tuesday, Tiffany, the most popular girl at her school, shares her thoughts of the day.  Some are funny, others serious, but they are always poignant and deep. 

So, like hey everyone.  It's so nice out today, so my friend Amber and me totally decided to skip school and get our tan on, because boy's like tanned girls and I'm not gonna go fake bake so I can look like an orange.  Like how many guys do you see ask oranges to prom?  Like no one, well, except for that band geek, but still, like no one important or popular or hot would.

Anyway, so we were sitting by some random person's pool (we totally hopped their fence, so like don't tell anyone, 'cause I could get like jailed) and I just randomly think this random thing.

"Hey Amber, why is Greenland called Greenland?"
This is Greenland on a map.  I'm just kind of confused.
Are there two Denmarks?  

So then she was all like, "I don't know Tiffany.  It's green there right?"

Then I was like, "But it's cold and icy.  Why don't they call it Iceland?"

And then she was like, "But there already is a country called Iceland."

I totally did not know this because I didn't pay attention in geology class, and my parents never bought me a map.   Plus, this is the United States and we're United Statespeople, and we don't give a WTF about other places because they're not as awesome.

Then I was like, "OMG, like why couldn't they call it Iceland 2 or Iceland: The Sequel?"

And she was all like, "Great idea Tiffany.  Maybe we could contact the Nations United and get the name changed?"

And I was then all like, "Totally."

So, that's my random thought for the day.  Love you all, and by all, I mean the popular pretty people.

Monday, May 30, 2011

The Perfect Scholarship Candidate

Imagination Station:

Play this while reading.  It will enhance the gravity and depth of what you are about to read.  

Write about a challenge you had to overcome and how it changed you as a person:

I've had many challenges in my life.  It all started when I was a little boy growing up in a gang ridden suburban town.  My daddy smoked crack and my mom beat me when she came home from her job of smuggling chinchillas, so at the age of 5 I decided it was time to run away from that atmosphere of stifling aggression and addiction.  I ran away to the city, where I lived in the system of sewers beneath the concrete and was raised by a family of sewer gators, kind of like that boy who was raised by a family of wolves.

I stayed there until I was 10.  At that point I decided it was time to return to the surface and try to seek an education in order to better myself.  I lived on the streets homeless for a long time.  I chose a spot behind the local public library, where I would fish books out of the dumpster in order to self-educate myself.  It was when I came across these books that I realized that biomedical engineering and medicine was my true calling in life.  So I begin to try to find a cure for cancer in order to cure my ailing gator father.  He's been sick for a long time, but I believe I'm making good progress.

On the streets, I also realized that I need to give back to the community.  I began going around the city, collecting bricks and wood thrown in the trash.  I found a spot by a river where I decided to build a school for impoverished homeless children just like myself.  It took me years to build that school with my bare hands, but I'm proud to say that I have succeeded in building it.

I recently got accepted to Harvard, Yale, and other illustrious over-priced schools, but I need help with some of the financing.  That's where this scholarship can help me.

All the challenges in life have made me who I am.  I am strong, confident, and determined.  I know that I must earn everything in life, that nothing is ever truly free.  My childhood paid the price, but my adulthood will reap the rewards, because I am a better person now and I can help others.

Thank you.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

AP Lit Essay

Imagination Station:

Sorry I haven't written in awhile guys.  I've been busy with my AP exams.  I learned this lovely little fact about AP essays.  You can write whatever you want and if you cross it out, it won't be graded... he he he...  And no, this was not my real essay. 


© 2011 The College Board.
Visit the College Board on the Web:




Total time—2 hours
Question 1

(Suggested time—40 minutes. This question counts as one-third of the total essay section score.)

The following poem is by the contemporary poet Li-Young Lee. Read the poem carefully. Then write a well developed 
essay in which you analyze how the poet conveys the complex relationship of the father and the son 
through the use of literary devices such as point of view and structure.

A Story

Sad is the man who is asked for a story
and can’t come up with one.

His five-year-old son waits in his lap.
Not the same story, Baba. A new one.
The man rubs his chin, scratches his ear.

In a room full of books in a world
of stories, he can recall
not one, and soon, he thinks, the boy
will give up on his father.

Already the man lives far ahead, he sees
the day this boy will go. Don’t go!
Hear the alligator story! The angel story once more!
You love the spider story. You laugh at the spider.
Let me tell it!

But the boy is packing his shirts,
he is looking for his keys. Are you a god,
the man screams, that I sit mute before you?
Am I a god that I should never disappoint?

But the boy is here. Please, Baba, a story?
It is an emotional rather than logical equation,

an earthly rather than heavenly one,
which posits that a boy’s supplications
and a father’s love add up to silence.

Here's the brilliant, well-crafted essay about the poem: 

Li-Young Lee's poem "A Story" conveys the complexity of the father-son relationship through the shifting tone and shifting points of view, making the poem more complex, thus mirroring the complexity of the relationship discussed.

You have lovely hair.  It brings out the color in your eyes.   Lee first uses shifting point of view in order to mimic the complexity of the father-son relationship.  The unitalicized portion of the poem is in third person, while the italicized portion is in first person.  However, the narrator in the italicized portions of the poem shift as well, further adding to a complexity.  You know what's complex, my relationship with Joe.  That's some complicated ass shit man.   In the second and final stanza, the narrator is the son as a young boy.  He asks "Baba" for another story, begs him, "Please, Baba, another story?" I wonder if he likes me.  No, not Joe.  Bob.  It's complicated.     In the fourth and fifth stanza, the narrator is the father.  He begs his son, "Don't go!" and offers to tell him stories from the boy's childhood that he used to love.  I personally like the story about Cinderella.  You know, the typical rags to riches story, and she meets a handsome prince.  I want to meet a prince.  I'm so lonely. didn't work for me.  Guaranteed my ass.   

Lee also uses shifting tones to further the complexity of the poem and illustrate the complexity in the relationship between father and son.  I'm a little teapot. The first stanza is sad.  Short and stout.  The second is loving, with a cute, little kid asking his Baba to tell "not the same story," but "a new one."  The fourth stanza is pleading and anxious, with a father, who feels abandoned, asking his son to not go, begging him to "let me tell it." I'm tired.  And thirsty.  Is this almost over?  Okay buddy or lady, let me just level with you.  I put about 0.000000006 effort into this class, so you're lucky that I even know what a stanza is. So, do you think you could just give me an 8 for being honest?  Please?  I will mail you cookies. Or, you know what, here's a quarter.  I hope it's still in there when you get it.  They won't let me have access to tape. 

Alright, the truth is I really hope you give me a nine.  I'm an orphan and my mother and father take turns beating me.  Mom on even days and dad on odd days.  Dad is a blind gambler and Mom is a fat prostitute.  So they don't bring in any money or food.  I haven't eaten in months.  And I need this college credit because I won't be able to afford the class... because my family can't get money.  So... yeah... please give me a good grade.  

Enjoy the pretty picture I drew for you. 

Puppy face.  Don't fight it.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Professor Offers Techniques to Worrying Parents

By Soumith Inturi, a guest writer:

Children everywhere are running rampant as parents struggle to control their children’s unruly actions.

“My son hasn’t gone to school in three days,” cries one worried parent. “When I tell him to go, he just tells me to piss off.”

One pioneer, however, has developed various methods to rein these bucking broncos and make them obey their parents.

Professor Raj Varma of the University of Mississippi is currently researching in the exponentially growing field of beating children. So far, he has accrued 39 years of research, starting as a child growing up with his parents.

Varma’s parents did not hesitate to beat their children. Growing up in this atmosphere, Varma realized that children who received daily beatings performed 200 times better than the children who were merely sent to their rooms.

“I had two other Indian friends and both of their parents absolutely refused to beat them,” Varma says. “Now look where they ended up. They’re mopping the floors of my research lab.”

Varma’s mantra revolves around simple, yet efficient, techniques to overcome a misbehaving child and make him submit to the will of the parents.

“I guarantee these techniques will work 150% of the time,” Varma says confidently.

Varma offers four solutions for any situation possible. His first one, the hand whip, can be used almost anytime. When a child misbehaves, hold out a firm hand and flick the wrist at one of the child’s bared cheeks. According to Varma, this should immediately stop the child in his tracks. If not, he suggests repetition with added power, which can be provided by vitamins or steroids.

“This second technique can prevent anything from ever happening,” Varma says. “Just hit your kid when he least expects it. You’re kid walks in the door, then BOOM! Headshot! I call this one the Just-In-Case.”

According to Varma, the Just-In-Case prevented ninety percent of children from misbehaving. Tests are still being performed on the other ten percent.

The third technique, the Swerving Reach Around, deals with behavior in the car. Varma recommends reaching around and hitting misbehaving children in the back seat.

“To really scare the crap out of the kid, you have to swerve the car for effect,” Varma adds. “Don’t worry. This succeeds almost every other time.”

The final technique requires parents to always speak with an Indian accent when administering the beatings. Varma adds that if this technique is not followed, the child will regress after a day.

“Lastly, I also have my family’s secret technique, which has been handed down from generation to generation,” Varma says. “This technique requires the parents to be proficient with their kamehameha technique. First, you charge it up and unleash it while the other parent turns Super Saiyan and releases a spirit bomb. This succeeds without fail.”

Varma suggests parents follow these techniques to the word to ensure the survival and success of their children. Varma’s own children survived and became wealthy businesspeople and doctors.

“Beating breeds success and pain, but mostly success,” Varma concludes. “Without the beat, the children won’t step to your rhythm.”

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

How to Be Sexy- For Men

He's bringing sexy back.  And white jeans.
Imagination Station:

Sterling Rambo here.  For those of you who don't know me (though, how could you not) I am the manliest man of the male species alive.  If women are from Venus and men are from Mars, then I'm the king of a steriod filled mega man Mars.  Oh yeah.  And it's man hairy too.

Anyway, I've made it my mission to teach men the art of being men.  So here's how to be sexy if you're a man.  For you ladies, this will make you less attractive.  Sexy time:

1. Get RIPPED.   If your veins are not popping out of your skin when you flex, then you are a disgrace to the man world.

2.  Don't manscape. Allow that inner grizzly bear to come out. You're on the prowl, so look like it.

3.  Don't buy deodorant.  Let your man smell ooze out of your man pores.  No lady will be able to resist those pheromones.  Remember that deodorant isn't for after showering, it's instead of showering.

4. Buy some snazzy man clothes.  I suggest glitter.  You can't go wrong with glitter.  It will catch the light and not only make your eyes sparkle, but it will make your entire body sparkle.  You'll be like a disco ball of love that no lady will resist.

5. Practice your sexy face.  Yeah, pout those man lips.

6.  Practice your sexy dancing.  Shake what your daddy gave you.

7. Gel up that man hair of yours.  Women like perfect hair, and if it looks like your hair can survive a death match with a gladiator, then you're good to go.  If your bald, buy Rogaine.  Nobody likes bald man heads.

8.  Wrestle a bear.  It will build up your muscle strength.

9.  Now go get 'em you man tiger.  Meow.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Commencement Speech

Imagination Station:

Good evening ladies and gentleman.  My name is Tiffany, and I like have the extreme honor of commencementating this speech.

Webster defines graduation as an act of graduating, but to us, graduating means so much more than that.  We've like had great times at our high school, like the time sophomore year where Kelly totally thought she could steal my boyfriend and get away with it, and then I like slashed her tires.  And when she saw her car she starting crying, and then I went and told her that her boyfriend thinks she's fat and ugly... LOLZ.  Or like the time when the star quarterback asked me to prom by writing "Prom?" on  the windows in the cafeteria... ah, great times.

So, we've shared so many memories and made memories and memorized memories and like this is our last time we are all together.  This is kind of sad, but don't worry, because the friendships we've made will last a lifetime.  I consider you all my BFFs, even you ugly people.

When we're old and ugly (except for me, because I'm marrying a rich plastic surgeon) we'll look at these times and remember that these were the best times of our lives.  As we go forth into the world, we'll do great things because we are the future leaders of America or our state or of the great nation of Hawaii.

I want you guys to take a moment and look at the person on your left.  Now look at the person on your right.  That person may cure cancer or become a lawyer or own a successful business or be the prez or flip burgers at McDonald's.  We can all do great things if we put our faces too it.

So in introduction, where will you be in forty years?  What will like our legacy be?  Remember, it's not the end, it's the beginning.  And thanks for voting me your prom queen.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

The College of Knowledge Wants You

Imagination Station:

After receiving a few creepy college letters/emails of my own, I've decided to write my own college letter to the youth of America.  

Dear [insert your first name because clearly you and I are on a first name basis],

We've heard you're an exceptional, bright, young student, and based on your ACT scores, you'd be a perfect fit for our university and I'm sure you'll find that we'd be a perfect fit for you as well.  We have a beautiful campus and great academic programs.  It's the perfect place for you to blossom!

Whether you're interested in law, physics, theology, journalism, or taxidermy, we've got it all and it's all just for you.  We look forward to you having a wonderful college experience here and spending your entire lifesavings on your college education.  Have fun with those college loans!

If you're still not convinced that you should apply, let me tell you why.  Okay, here's why: 1. Our school is amazing and you will have an amazing time here.  2. Smart people go to our school.  Well respected smart people.  3.  You'd look great in our colors.  It'll bring out the colors in your eyes.  4.  The people here are friendly.  You'll be instantly popular.

Anyway, I truly hope you'll consider our school.  I am so convinced that you and our university are such a super great match that I'm going to do something special for you—I'm waiving your application fee.  So don't delay, apply now.  You know you want to.  Go ahead.  Apply.  Now.  Apply or I will hunt you down and kidnap you and force you to stay in college forever. MU HA HA HA.

I think you'll be glad you applied here—I know I'll be.


[insert stamped signature because I don't have the time to sign letters]
Julia Nagy
Director of Admissions
College of Knowledge

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Reading Sparknotes

Imagination Station:

Go ahead.  Sing along.  

The book is summarized
My grade can go up real high
Take a look
Get the gist of the book
Reading Sparknotes
I can find anything
Themes to know
Symbols are shown
Reading Sparknotes
I can find anything
Take a look
Get the gist of the book
Reading Sparknotes
Reading Sparknotes

This will be the first episode of Reading Sparknotes:

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The More You Know


Every 15 seconds, a high school senior experiences symptoms of senioritis.   And every 15 seconds, a teacher is aggravating the symptoms of senioritis.  Drowsiness, fatigue, procrastination, lack of focus,  mysterious rashes... senioritis is no joke.  So, if you're a teacher out there who knows a senior suffering from senioritis, you can be the cure.  Make a difference.  Don't assign homework.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Dear U of M

Guest Writer:

To whom it may concern,

My name is Bartholomew. I am a senior at generic high school in City Town, USA. Since a very young age I have dreamed of attending the University of Michigan. My room has been swallowed whole in maize and blue since the fourth grade.

Today, however, my eyes may rest. The loud and annoying paraphernalia has been removed completely, and destroyed.

Generally, students write this time of year to express their ongoing interest in attending a university. My purpose is in fact the opposite.

I am disgusted at the way your institution’s admissions process is being run.  The spots should be awarded to the students most deserving, not simply the one who writes the prettiest e-mail, metaphorically connecting the campus to God’s pearly gates.

I have worked my entire life, despite the obstacles that have been put in my way. There are absolutely no grounds to deny me admission. My test scores are impressive and well above your averages. My GPA is spotless and filled with AP and Honors courses. My writing is phenomenal, and my abilities and ambitions as a student are unparalleled by any other.  Simply because I refuse to kiss the ground you walk upon, does not for a second mean I am ill-qualified to attend.

I am not the only one in this position. I have countless brilliant friends who are in the same position as I. They’ve been pining for admission from day one, yet for some reason have been unsuccessful.
I am not speaking for them, but I am absolutely finished with this process and with your university.  You have denied admission to some of the best and brightest and pushed away the students that can potentially improve our world.  You have upset, without grounds, the very people you claim to want at your sham of an institution. 

Unfortunately for you, I will most certainly not be attending the University of Michigan in the fall of 2011. I would much rather attend a university where my input is appreciated, my intelligence noticed, and I, as a person, am respected, instead of being recognized as an ATM with a number. 

The classes at U of M are gigantic, the professors careless. The environment is that of a diploma-mill, not one of a group of people who wish to learn.  Given the opportunity to re-do my entire application process, I would not even bother to apply. 

I could not be happier to be attending a rival school.

Good day,

Friday, April 8, 2011

Sterling Rambo the 3D Movie Experience

Imagination Station:

Hello, my name is Sterling Rambo.  If you're a lady reading this, then I said that previous statement in a highly manly and seductive man voice.  If not, then I just said it in a manly man voice.

Given my high manly status in society, I'm having a movie made about me.  Well, sort of.  It's in production.  By production I mean a half written script on my desk.  Anyway, I'm hoping to get Steven or Martin to direct it.  You know, the top dogs in the movie industry.  They own the video store across the street and they also happen to own a camera.

So, as I'm writing this script about me battling intergalactic space zombies and saving extremely hot chicks with large boobs, I suddenly think to myself, "What songs are going to be in the movie?"  Now, I'm musically inclined, but how awesome and manly my music sounds... some people have died from how awesome it is.  It's a condition know as Soundmangasmus de Man Sound, or in in layman's terms "Soundmangasm of Man Sound that Also Happens to Kill Disorder."  I just wanted to serenade you Trixi  Hot Buns.  I never meant for it to kill you.  *dramatically sobs manly*

So, here's what I'm thinking for the movie soundtrack:

Here's what the opening credits will go along with:

Any club scene will play this song:

This is for the dramatic shed a tear moment in the movie:

This is for the fast paced fight scenes:

This is for the final slo-mo dramatic fighting scene:

This is for the end credits:

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Prom Dilemma

OMG, I'm going to look so refined.  Totally.  Be
jealous, 'cause I'm pretty.  
Imagination Station:

Hi everyone.  My name is like Tiffany and I'm totally the most popular girl in the whole school, so there's a lot of pressure for me to stay pretty.  And like now that prom is just around the corner, everyone is expecting me to look like really cute... no, not cute.  Sorry.  Everyone is expecting me to look so hot that they feel less confident about themselves and so they can have yet another reason to worship me.

So, I got my dress yesterday and now I need some shoes to go with the dress, but I'm totally torn between these two totally awesome open toed shoes.  I like really need your help.

I went to the mall today with my BFFs and one of my frenemies (who totally thinks she's like the most popular, but is totally not because I have more Facebook friends and Twitter followers) and I saw two super cute shoes, like to-die-for kind of super cute shoes.

Now, I need to decide between those two shoes because I obviously cannot wear two different pairs of shoes to prom.  Like most people, I only have two foots okay.  And what I put on my two foots is important.  I can't walk in, and have people all be like, "OMG Tiffany, you look gorgeous... wait, what? OMG what fugly shoes.  Ew.  You can't be here.  You can't stay at prom.  You're banished!"

And then I'll be banished and have to wonder the streets cold and alone and end up in a forest somewhere and trip and fall down a giant canyon where I'll be attacked by a rabid squirrel.  I'm too pretty to have that happen.  That only happens to ugly geeks, not pretty people.

Here's the first shoe option.
Here's the other option.  

So, option number one is a red shoe to match exactly with my red dress.  I love the heart.  It's totally fun and cute and says "OMG, I'm like fun and cute, so be jealous ugly people.  LOLZ."  And best of all, the heart has been dipped in glitter, so when it hits the light, it's going to break it.  

The other option are these super sexy clear high heels that have a classy touch.  How much more classy can you get than dice and chips?  Not any classier.  They look really great on me and give me such a nice height boost.

Originally, I thought I could solve this problem real easy.  My mommy always told me that if the shoe fits, wear it, but both of them fit...  Anyway, here's the problem I face.  One shouts, "OMG, I'm like cool and fun and sweet."  The other shouts, "OMG, I'm totally sexy and classy and fierce."  So what look should I go for?  Should I follow my heart or my head?  Wait, do I even have a head?  Oh, I thought it was just called a face.  LOL.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Unicorns Poop Rainbows-Yes They Can

Imagination Station:

The video is actually real.

0:01- Okay, this video looks inspirational.  It feels inspirational.  It tastes inspirational.  It is inspirational.

0:12- Yeah man, break out that beautiful red, white, and blue. *sheds patriotic tear*

0:14- That doesn’t seem friendly.

0:17- OH, champagne… yummy.

0:24- Obama plays soccer?

0:29-0:30- Bastard.  How dare he take a break.  HOW DARE HE!!!!

0:36- Ew.  It’s a Jonas brother.

0:38- WTF?

0:41- Kansas, really?  What a horrible choice.  I would have gone with… some other basketball team… if I knew anything about basketball that is.

0:48- LIAR!  How can you even look at yourself in the mirror?

0:53- Obama’s lost my vote.


Friday, March 25, 2011

I Make an Ass Out of Myself Regularly


I went to the Culture Show at my school last weekend and completely made an ass out of myself by almost stealing a baseball from a little kid.  Now, now, hold your horses.  I didn't trick this kid by telling him Elmo was behind him, while snatching this ball out of his hands.  I'm not that cruel.

So, my friend and I, who for privacy sake we will call Gertrude, decided since it was our senior year that we should go to our first Culture Show.  We bought our tickets, took our seats, and started chatting, when out of the corners of our eyes we saw a baseball about two aisles down, just rolling on the floor.

"Look, it's a baseball," Gertrude turns to me.

"Why is there a baseball?  That's odd," I say.

This bald guy with glasses sitting in the front row, gets up and grabs it.  He sits back down, holding the baseball above his head.  He asks if it's anyone's for about two minutes.  Just asks and asks.  No answer. No claim of ownership.

Then Gertrude leans in and whispers to me, "Oh, that's mine sir."  We share a chuckle about it.  She then nudges my arm, telling me that I should say that to the bald guy.

Now non-senior Julia would of been like "No, I can't do that," but senior Julia was like "Ah, what the hell.  Why not?"

Not my ball.
"Um, sir, that's my ball," I say.

He throws the ball to me.  The ball is at the peak of its trajectory in the air.  Of course, right then, a mother with three little kids (the oldest was maybe four) walks down the aisle.  The oldest boy runs towards the ball, and the mother says, "Oh look little [insert whatever the kid's name was], there's your baseball."

Gertrude busts out laughing.  I don't catch the ball, and it travels underneath some of the seats.  Now at this point, I'm completely embarrassed.  The mother is looking at me funny, so is the bald guy.  So, the mother and her gaggle of kids walks away, trying to find the baseball.  The bald guy sits down next to his wife and says to her "Now I'm really confused.  Was it the little boy's or that girl's?"

His wife of course answers him.

"I think it was the little boy's."

So, the bald guy turns around to look at me one more time with a look of disgust and shook.  I, feeling extremely guilty and embarrassed, tell him that it was just a joke.

He didn't respond.  So, that is yet another incident to log into the "How I've Made an Ass Out of Myself" journal, but I cannot be held responsible.  Gertrude made me do it.

Thursday, March 24, 2011


Imagination Station:

Welcome class, my name is Dandelion Skylark and I will be guiding you through today's practice.

Now walk to the front of the mat.  We will begin in a simple Mountain Pose.  Pretend you are Everest.  Stand proud and tall.  Fell like a string is pulling up your spine and the crown of your head.  Your shoulders are back and down.  Suck in that gut.  Now, let's just stay here for awhile in this pose.

Feel this pose.  Feel your breath.  Feel gravity pulling you down.  Feel this pose.  Caress it.  Love it.  Flirt with it.  Now tell it that you've grown complacent with this relationship.  Let it know that you feel like you don't know who it is anymore.  Tell it that you want to see other poses as you exhale down into a fold.

Pretend you are like a piece of paper folding in half.  Let's just breath here for a second.


A nice, calming, relaxing breath.


Now we will move into Swaying Tree Pose.  Roll your body up one vertebrae at a time.  Place your arms into the air like you are reaching to give the sky a big old hug.  Now rock slowly back and forth.  You are a tree, swaying in the gale force winds of a steady summer's breeze.  You are in a forest, in a beautiful national park until some evil, greedy corporate assholes come and decide "Oh tree, you don't need to be a tree.  You need to be paper."  So they whip out a chainsaw and they begin to cut into your stump and all the other trees are crying and you're crying and your blood of maple syrup is spilling everywhere as you scream "Oh God, why?  Why me?"  And then these douche bags pull a total dick move and are all like "Die bitch die.  MU HA HA HA!  I have destroyed nature!"

Now continue swaying and move into Hello Sun Pose.  Reach both of your hands out an wave hello to the sun.  Greet the sun.

Hello sun.

Now greet the sunshine.

Hello sunshine.

Exhale as you go into another fold.  As your palms touch the floor, say hello to the ground.

Hello ground.

Say hello to the soil.

Hello soil.

Thank the soil for growing things.

Thank you soil for growing things like carrots, which are tasty.  But no thank you to tomatoes.  Those are gross.

Don't worry if you split your pants.
Yoga is about the natural flow of things.
Better yet, just don't wear pants. 
Now come down on the mat and move into Turtle Pose.  Begin by stretching your arms and legs.  Now slowly flap your arms and legs down.  You are a turtle.  A cute, little sea turtle, swimming in the sea, just enjoying the serenity and peace of nature.  That is until you mistake a piece of plastic for fish and you gobble it up, but it's too big for your throat, so you viciously and slowly choke to death, fully aware of the last moments of your life all because some dipshit decided to be all like "Fuck trashcans, that's what the ocean's here for... Bitch."

Now take some deep, calming breaths in.  Come back to Mountain Pose.  Stay in Mountain Pose.  Listen to the sound of your calming breath.


Let that rhythm wash over you as you think about tightening and then relaxing all the muscles in your body.  Clasp your hands in prayer.

Thank you for joining me on this workout and spiritual experience.