Fourth funniest blog on the web

The worst app for teens and what you can do about it

Dear Readers,

I have a new hobby, and you should try it too: trolling for the betterment of society. It all started when I read this article about social media sites from a teen’s perspective. He says the app Yik Yak is super popular among college kids. I’m in marketing and wanted to learn more about Yik Yak’s appeal, so I downloaded it. Users on Yik Yak anonymously post “yaks,” and everyone within a 10-mile radius can read and interact with each other’s yaks. It’s popular because students can yak about professors, tests and parties without revealing their identities or exact locations. Cool, huh?


Except it wasn’t cool in my area. There’s no college campus within 10 miles of me, so the Yak population in my radius is made up of high schoolers and a few university kids home on break. Over the winter holidays, I read yaks like, “The worst thing about being home from school is your dealer isn’t here.”

Some posts bubbled over with teenage angst, but 98% were vulgar commentaries on sex or requests for drugs. And a few local delinquents made fun of their moms in a mean way, which irritated me on a whole other level. I generally like the teens in my tight-knit community — most are great kids — so the Yik Yak feed shocked and disappointed me. I can’t post most of the stuff I read, but this is a sample of some of the tame posts:

sample yaks

A few of the nicer yaks in my radius.


So I’m doing what I was born to do — ruin it for everyone. Just like Gen X and older contaminated Facebook with posts on kids, charities, and weight loss strategies (truly annoying) — making it uncool for younger generations — I am determined to spoil Yik Yak for all the area punks by filling it with old people posts.

But there’s a catch: users can vote yaks up or down, and if your total gets down to -5, your yak is removed. (You can also vote once for your own yaks and reply to yourself anonymously.) So if you post something, it has to be somewhat appealing, or you have to have some compadres vote it up for you. My strategy was to yak boring mom content with curse words to make it edgy. (I took out some of the letters for the blog because my Grandmother reads this.)

This was my first yak:
“Pansies from Calloway’s are the best! And save your receipts, ’cause that sh*t’s guaranteed!” Some yakkers thought it was funny, and some were annoyed. But my vote total was positive. Success!

Then I posted this:
“Looking for new crockpot recipes, c*cksuckers. Watchu got?”  7 up votes, that’s what. Success again!

So then my husband joined in. We cracked ourselves up and laughed for hours creating fake posts about Viagra, non-iron dress shirts, HGTV, casseroles, frequent flier miles, dieting, menopause, oil prices, vasectomies, minivans, antacids, and more. And then neighbors got in on the action too, so we have a whole contingent of middle-aged yakkers in our area. It’s a legit grass roots counterculture movement!

“HGTV is the sh*t. Fixer Upper kicks a**. If it’s House Hunters, that sh*t better be International.”

“D*mn frequent flyer miles don’t go as far as they used to. Platinum status hardly means anything anymore. WTF!”

“Up vote if you like the Moment of Nature on CBS’s Sunday Morning Show.”

And I like to post as an elderly woman with poor spelling:
“The company that made this foot warmer said it would help my bursitis. Bunch of liars! My toes are still swellt up.” (That one got voted down and removed within an hour. Bummer. Apparently bursitis and the word “swellt” are very off-putting to teenagers.)

“My Grandson just ate a hole can of Pickled Beets!”  This one got some up votes (thanks, neighbors!) and replies from teens like, “Get off. Just get off.”

We didn’t let up:
“Have to stop at 3 different grocery stores in this town to get all the sh*t I like.”

“Non-iron dress shirts are the sh*t. Hang up hot out of the dryer, and those b*tches stay perfect!”
And many, many more.

Now the young druggies are getting uncomfortable:
“I am so confused why there are so many older people on this yak, [sic] no one wants to hear about how your kids have practice or that you take Viagra.”

“This app is made specifically for college age students… Most people older than that on here just make this areas [sic] YikYak [sic] a little awkward.”

And the plan is working!
“I’m probably one of the last college kids here and without us yik yak [sic] posts are from old people and high schoolers, lame.”

Lame! We made it lame! 10 miles down, thousands more to go. Ridin’ the Yak is super fun!

This post is brought to you by my friends at What does Yik Yak have to do with Both are free, and I highly recommend them! But even if you decide on a paid package with, you’ll pay far less than with the leading competitor ($9.99 versus $34.99). Then you can yak about how you found a fantastic new tax site that guarantees maximum refunds and saves lots of money, which is a real turnoff to punks.


The 4th funniest blog on the web!

7 Fake Reasons You Need Stuff from Home Depot or Lowes

At Home Depot or Lowes

Me: “Excuse me, where can I find the _______?”

Helpful store employee: “What do you need it for?”

Me: Thinking that’s a nosy question, but I answer anyway.
“I’m building/fixing/planting/painting/poisoning ­­­_______.”

(Overly) helpful store employee: “Why do you want that product?
Have you considered ______ instead?”

Me: Annoyed, because no one should question the hours of Internet research I’ve devoted to solving this problem.

Yes, this is me with work gloves, a glass of wine and a power drill.

Yes, this is me with work gloves, a glass of wine and a power drill. It was a lovely evening.

My dad HATES to be asked what he’s working on. He’s a construction and mechanic expert who does not need advice. Plus, he considers it an invasion of privacy when someone asks him what he’s building. Is the part in stock or not, buddy?

We came up with a list of ridiculous projects to claim we’re working on the next time a store employee asks. Feel free to use these responses for yourself.

“Why do you need that part?”

1. Give your best crazy eye and exclaim, “Oh, we’re GOING to Mars!”

2. “My dolphins need a bigger cage.”

“You mean aquarium?” 

“No, a cage.”

3. “Umm…have you heard of the book 50 Shades of Grey? I’m building that room.”

4. “Ghost trap. I need a ghost trap — in a hurry.” Be sure to look panicked and use spooky hand gestures with this one.

5. “I’m building a pan to hold the WORLD’S LARGEST FLAN!!!”

6. “My butt has a crack in it.”

7. “I’m a producer for the new reality show Oops! You’re Dead!

The 4th funniest blog on the web!

A Magic Blogger T-shirt

Hi Dear Ones,

What have you been up to? I was just researching online about how to fix a leaky outdoor faucet. Then I realized that if I had time to think about doing something like that just so I could have bragging rights over my husband (along with the superior attitude), then I had time to blog.

A couple of weeks ago, I got the coolest t-shirt! It says, “Last Night A Blogger Saved My Live.”

Last Night a Blogger Saved My Life shirt

Find your own at JC Penny’s











How awesome is that? I’m pretty sure that other bloggers have saved my life a few times, so it’s true.

AND, when I wore the shirt on Saturday, I happened to save my newborn nephew’s life. Maybe. Possibly. And let’s not get tied up in semantics about I’m the blogger and who saved my life and whatnot. The point is that I wore that shirt and then did a good deed. Basically, I suggested that my sister-in-law, who was 39 weeks preggers, go into the doctor when she experienced some unusual symptoms. She thought it wasn’t anything to worry about, but I insisted. I drove her to the hospital, and it turned out she needed an emergency c-section. It all worked out; everyone is healthy now. Thank God. And blogger t-shirt magic.

The new baby’s name is Logan. (Should have been named Angelo after me, or perhaps Baby Biscuit, but whatever.) I posted pictures of him on my personal Facebook page. Then I posted a photo of the nurse holding him up like the daddy lion does in The Lion King, and I captioned it “Baby Simba.” A friend thought I posted two babies — twins, since the names were different: baby Logan and baby Simba.

That made me laugh so hard. There is only one baby, but what a name combination for twins! Logan and Simba. How about Isaac and Jin-Choo? Or Thurman and Seamus? Destiny and Edna? Biscuit and Pita Chip?

Do you have funny name combination suggestions just in case any readers are having twins? Or stories of life-saving bloggers? Please post them in the comments!

The 4th funniest blog on the web!

Here You Are, Ranked Above the Fire Ants

Oh my goodness, Dear Readers.

I didn’t mean to offend you. I realized today that my last article was about ruthless prioritization and then I didn’t post in a month. Skeptics would say that my readers are not important to me, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The reality is that I’ve been very busy with the only things that take priority, which are mainly family and work. Here’s a true illustration of my commitment to you:

I have fire ants in my bed. Every few nights or so, one or two mysteriously appear on my side of the bed, deep in the sheets. This has been going on for a couple of months. The fire ants seem near death when I find them every morning because I destroy them in my fitful sleep, but still.

When I first found a few ants in my room, I deep cleaned and had the pest control guy out and whatnot. My mattress is new, and I wash my bedding vigilantly. The ants went away for a while, but now they’re back to get me. The only explanation I can come up with for the new ants is that there’s an air vent over my side of the bed, and one fire ant at a time drops down from the ceiling occasionally.

Every day I forget to call my pest control company about the new ants. The owner goes to my church, and I told him about this issue on Sunday. He asked why I hadn’t called, and I shrugged. I’m too busy with other things to worry about fire ants biting my legs in the middle of the night. On Monday, he called me to follow up. I still haven’t returned the call.

Because of the the ants — and possibly the wine — alligators, snakes, piranhas, and more snakes visit me each night in my dreams and snap at me.

But here I am, posting on this blog when I could be taking action against the things really causing the bites on my behind.

So, the blog ranks here: God, family, work, the hit TV series Homeland, blog readers, urgent fire ant problem.

I hope you know how much I appreciate you all.


The 4th funniest blog on the web!


Ruthless prioritization: This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I heard the specific phrase used by CEO Marissa Mayer.

With a huge company to run and a newborn baby, that’s how she determines how to spend her precious minutes. I’ve been trying to run my life with ruthless prioritization because it’s the only way I can stay on top of things. It’s not super fun, but I’ve become quite an efficient machine. Plus, with only a few Christmas-related exceptions, I haven’t stepped foot into TJ Maxx or Michael’s in a couple of years, which has saved me hours upon hours. Those stores make my blood run warm and sweet… oh gosh, the self-control makes my body ache. I need some unneccessary craft products NOW!

But ruthless. I love the word ruthless. It implies an unmatched level of sharp, logical decisions that might hurt feelings and make people mad, depending on where they rank in your priority ladder. It’s not personal. Ninjas and CIA agents are ruthless—all the cool people, you know. I love the word because I romanticize it, and I romanticize it because I’m the opposite of ruthless. I’m a softie people pleaser who cries at the drop of a hat and is distracted by fun and interesting things. Usually.

The only exception is when it comes to Santa Claus. I’ve always gotten pleasure from telling children that there is no Santa and then laughing at them when they cry. I tell them with laser-like focus and intensity. Then I laugh.

What can I do for you today?

Are you ruthless? How? And most importantly, why? I think it’s important that you enjoy it.

*I had lots of wine while writing this and thought it was hilarious. My bad. Also, I haven’t spilled the beans on Santa since I was five or six, but the thought of those kids’ faces still makes me laugh.


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