Dance on, christian brother

Being a mostly noon person, I despise the moment when I must finally drag my worthless carcass out of bed and begin my day. Especially if I have no pressing reason for which to get up. It is usually a process of intense self mockery, calling myself lazy, sloven, useless, etc until I can't take the ridicule any longer. At which point I peel the sleeping mask from my eyes, bask for a moment in the light induced blindness, followed by the barely functioning eye induced blindness. At this point I usually wonder if there is perhaps a stranger in my house, somebody there that I can't see. Possibly right there in my room, waiting to murder me the instant I put on my contacts. As the first one uncomfortably suctions itself to my eye, there he would be, seemingly popping out of nowhere, right in front of me. Upon seeing the sudden look of startled shock on my face, he would yell, "Surprise!" At which point he would murder me, however one who does that sort of thing murders someone. In all likelihood it would be in some horrible fashion, as he would probably be pissed that he had to stand there till nigh unto noon, waiting to perform his jack-in-the-box murder.

Point of all of that, I hate waking up. Showering is another part of the morning ritual that I oft less than thoroughly enjoy. I like being clean and having the water basically blast the flesh away from my spinal column, due to our overly zealous fire hose of a shower head. But it's the whole process that I find annoying. Getting wet, going through the soapy rubdown, attempting to avoid any bodily contact the the rotting sheet of hepatitis which we lovingly call "shower curtain." Followed by the rinse, the towel off, and then going through the hellacious process of trying to decide what to wear amongst so much clothing I am bored with. (I realize one shouldn't end a sentence with "with," but get over it.) In summation, it is the whole process, the wasted half hour that I find irksome. I mean individually, I for the most part love each one of those things--clothing, water, soapy rubdowns. All together they become drudgery. I have however, found a way to allay much of unpleasantness found in said process.

The shower dance party.

I have found that there really is no better way to start one's day than with a shower dance party. Not necessarilly with others, mind you, but alone in one's own naked glory. Standing under the fire hose, listening to my favorite dance rock or electronica causes me to forget the process and simply shake what my birth mother gave me (I appologize if that provides a rather horrifying mental immage.) All I am saying, is lathering and rinsing while dancing starts my day off on the right foot. The dancing foot.

I feel like my religious audience would argue that something spiritual would be the most benifical way to start my day, ergo scripture study should be my first order of business upon wakening. As I was dancing in the shower this morning thinking about just that, I had an epiphany. Why not dance AND read scriptures, thus combining the best of both worlds? "Hello little Nephi little Lehi, your's are the dreams we're believing..." I'm think I'm feelin' a little Shiny Toy Book of Mormon booty shake.

Suddenly scripture study is fun and rockin. Now, I don't feel as though scripture study and dance rock/electronica should be a permanent mixture. But I do feel like a little morning-scripture- dance- party does a spiritual body good.

Thanks for jiggling to help our bellies jiggle

Are there any people on the planet earth who appear to be more miserable and dejected than those who hold signs out in front of businesses, proclaiming stellar deals? Because if so, I have yet to encounter them. If anyone is not sure to what I am referring, just drive by a Little Caesars Pizza and look for the hopeless soul holding the sign that states the extremely well known fact that the $5 pizza is the only thing worth purchasing at that wretched establishment. Their current sign is fashioned in the shape of a guitar. I have driven by that place a couple times during the last few days on the way to school or Joe's house/R.V. and it has been the same guy out there holding it both times. There he stands, alone on the corner, a look of complete boredom/what-has-my-life-come-to? painted across his face, giving little half-hearted shakes to the sign. The quivering advertisement seems to mock him with each shallow joggle, as his efforts do not quite match the flamboyant tone of said sign.

These poor sign holders seem to generally fall into a similar profile--that of those kids you used to see at school who were awkward and appeared to be somewhat friendless. Friendless, that is, until they meet the guys that gather nightly in the Provo park and dress up like Medieval warriors and participate in epic mock-battles until the wee hours of the night. All in all, they usually seem to have an awkward air about them. But I suppose that could stem from the completely awkward and unrewarding nature of the job itself. Even a sweet bro would have a difficult time looking cool, chill, or sweet while participating in such a demeaning task. Unless he took off his shirt.

I guess the thing that I find most curious about the whole sign jiggling phenomenon, is the fact that there are people willing to do it for 5-7 bucks an hour. Let me add that not all sign jigglers make such pitiful wages. I have a dear friend who jiggled for a mortgage company and they paid her like 60 bucks on Saturdays to go stand on a corner for 4 hours, shaking away. Not bad for working the corner.

But there is no possible way on the planet that Little Caesar's sign shakers are making more than $7 in Utah Country. Anyhow, I admire their efforts at finding meaningful work. I mean, how else are we fat Americans going to know that we can purchase 2300 calories and 90 grams of fat, packed into one, delicious, cheezy, saucy delight, all for $5? I dare you to find more calories for less money, without simply eating a stick of butter.

Little Caesar's is pure, cheap, caloric bliss.

Hot beefy Mc' D.

I must say that Mc'Donnald's approach has changed over the years. And, for the first time since Super Size me...I actually want to eat there.

If Mc'Donnald's wants to bring back a generation of jaded, fast-food fearing semi-healthy people, they need to go back to the giant puppets and dancing throngs of people.

The fat addicted people...they will continue eating that vile, unhealthy slop regardless of the advertising techniques. But how will they bring back the millions like me who are well aware that eating Mc'Donnald's food is merely a hastening of ones ultimate, overweight demise?

Theatrics, thats how. Give me Alexander and give me death!