Archive for the 'Buy Lines' Category

Jul 26 2009

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karabee

Crazy Lazy

Filed under Buy Lines, Pop Culture

41M3NGGRR8L._SL500_AA280_You may be under the mistaken impression that the American national pastime is baseball. The steady climb of our collective pant size tells a different story.

In reality, the de facto sport of choice has become laziness. Ironically, a whole lot of energy goes in to supporting this sloth-like lifestyle. Products like Y’all Got Mail put hallmark American ingenuity and entrepreneurial spirit to work reducing the need for extraneous exercise.

On the bright side, we’re still manifesting our destiny (albeit by remote control).

It’s as American as apple pie. And, boy, we sure do eat lots of pie.

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Jun 23 2008

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karabee

Peanut Better

It Does a Body GoodI have always been a fan of milk-flavored milk. It does a body good. Chocolate milk – that’s super-yum too. My roommate drinks a bottle of it a day for breakfast.

I opened the fridge this morning I noticed that the V-man went to Wilson Farms to buy the equivalent to a full cow of his lactose nectar. It was then that I was struck with one of those once-in-a-lifetime brilliant ideas. So brilliant, in fact, that I may be on the verge of being immortalized as a dairy oracle. Get this:

Peanut Butter flavored milk!

If put into the right hands will REVOLUTIONIZE the flavored milk industry. Quik – get on it ya silly rabbit.

Granted, it won’t be allowed within 100 yards of any school cafeteria but I still believe there’s a robust market waiting to be tapped.

Can you milk a cat?BTW- did you know that some visionary actually found a way to milk peanuts? I wonder what that machine looks like…

I guess you can milk anything. It doesn’t even need to have nipples. (You’re off the hook Mr. Jinks.)

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the beverage pioneers at Signs and Wonders are Evangelical Christians. They are clearly doing God’s work.

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Aug 01 2007

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karabee

Pimp My Hyde!

OK kids – gather round: it’s story time.

Once-upon-a-last-year there was a nice girl who was minding her own business while trying to do her part to spread peace, love and happiness across the land. She stood- right, walked- left on public transportation, recycled and always had a smile for friends, wait staff and cashiers alike. The universe choose to reward this exemplary behavior in a rather unusual way.

As she entered her thirties her skin got nostalgic for the good ole teen years and regressed to the kind of breakouts that should have stayed in the early 1990s along with the oh-so-flattering tapered pant look.

Yup. It’s a true story. I am know that girl. Not one to go down without a fight I she turned to the interweb in search of answers and – more importantly – solutions. Information discovered? Something simple to nix late-onset pimples.

-Ever wonder why people would agree to put their worst “before” pics on late night TV for your viewing pleasure? It’s ’cause 2.5% is the magic number for Benzoyl Peroxide. The ladies in the labcoats figured that out and the folks at Guthy-Renker handled scripting infomercials that steer clear of the word “puss” or droppin’ the kind of big science-y words that commonly ricochet off the three walls of those doc-you-drama sets.

-Don’t even think about putting 10% Benzoyl Peroxide on your face. It is no coincidence that the maximum amount manufacturers are allowed to put in their products is 10%. Much like the super sized marketing of fast food, it’s overkill: both for the zit and your poor skin cells.

-If you’d like to save some money for a mani-pedi, go to this website for a list of what products to use and how to use ‘em. Their 2.5% Benzoyl Peroxide Gel works wonders and since it’s not all white and pasty* so it can be applied even when you have to put on your fat jeans and leave the house in lieu binging on chocolate ice cream** while wearing a moo-moo and rapidly changing mood ring.

For the record: I am completely aware that there are bigger issues facing the world. If this little skin care hack has freed up the time of people able to fix said problems, well… then my work here is done. Score 1 for world peace.

*Resist the urge to make the obvious jokes re- “white and pasty” being my actual skintone. I get it: I’m pale. Leave me be. :0l
**Not that I do that… not that there’s anything wrong with it. Certainly not.

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May 06 2007

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karabee

Pardon Mii

I’m not much for video games… but holy CRAP! Wii is the best thing ever. Way better than sliced bread. It’s not even a contest.

MiiIt’s this alternate universe where I can break 100 at bowling. I can also box like a mofo, all without breaking a nail or messin’ up my hair. I wish I could make my Mii cuter, but she’s still a looker. Hollah!

I wonder if my boxing prowess would translate in a street fight. The realistic part of me says, “No chance.” My girl friend and I look like we’re having an seizure during a slapfight with ants in our pants. Must sign off for now. Sean and Stacy are taunting me for this “dear diary” entry and it’s my turn to kick some simulated butt.

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Apr 24 2007

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karabee

Lesson # 5,433,983.02: Pink Stinks

Filed under Anecdotes, Buy Lines, Whizdumb

I excel at losing and breaking cell phones. It’s artful, actually. Every time is a slightly different scenario. One was left behind at the Bryant Park Grille, another – the back of a cab. There’re a few more, but I won’t bore you with the amateur stuff. My crowning achievement, by far, mostly likely happened after falling into a 3′ curbside exhaust-saturated snowdrift. Yeah- that was special.

The previous insurance claim earned me the cell phone replacement insurance “kiss-off” letter. In lieu of signing away my first born and extending my contract through infinity, I used my mom’s cast-off late nineties Motorola until the 2 year upgrade came through a mere 6 months later. The replacement? It was pure evil loosely disguised as a grey ergonomically designed handset. Example? It called an ex-boyfriend (the ex-bf). This is, by far, the most severe infraction of the sacred trust between a girl and her cell. Unintended phone calls are par for the course, but come on: only a mobile device working as Satan’s personal foot-soldier would place such a call on Valentine’s Day.

Needless to say, I was psyched to get a cute new phone. Don’t get me wrong: pink is great as an overall color, but less fitting as the selection criteria for a mobile phone. Seriously: who knew that color and sleek design don’t positively effect the functioning of electronic devices? All kidding aside: I’m not that girly. The bluetooth capability was my main interest. Life goes so much smoother when my cell and computer are able to have their bi-weekly gabfest.

ibook_14_inchgossipv3cpinkiBook G4: “Did you know Kara’s 10 year college reunion is coming up? I think she’s going to go. What ever will she wear?”
RazR V3C: “Who knows? It’s a month and a half a way. We both know she’s gonna change her mind a kabillion times. That reminds me: did you know she recently got back in touch with some folks from the good ole days?”
iBook G4: “Uhm… DUH! Who do you think told you? Dang biatch, you gots to gimme my props.”
RazR V3C: My bad. I’m cute and pink: I read somewhere that’s grounds for extra slack.

Furthermore, due to popularity of the RazR my pragmatic side concluded that it would be too easy to accidentally trade phones, which BTW is a hassle with which I’ve had first hand experience. Simply by selecting a pink phone, I reduced the risk of phone switchage by approximately 50%. I asked around and the consensus is, even amongst technophiles, that most dudes would rather have a rotary dial cell phone than a pink one. Plus, there are three different pink RazRs (one for each carrier), bringing the risk of mix ups to some arbitrary low number. Yes- thoughtful preponderance of the facts… Anyone reading this must, by now, by impressed with my capacity for critical thinking.

When I received my new pink phone my heart went pitter patter. I was in deep, deep love. Like most romances, the honeymoon period was shortlived and things went down hill instead of remaining off the hook. The bluetooth feature which sold me on this particular model had been disabled by the folks at Verizon. Further investigation revealed that if I were a software engineer I could probably figure out how to unlock the data transfer feature. The helpful wiki I found was kind enough to explain that screwing this up would make the phone as unuseable as, say, one that met it’s end in an undisclosed snowbank within a three block radius of Memorial Drive. By some fluke, I managed to download my addressbook on there once. It wasn’t ideal, but there was nothing else to do. So, I lived with it. Pink didn’t sync, but there are worse problems to have.

Then the “*” button stopped working. I played it off like it was a mysterious malfunction, but in the back of my head I knew it probably had something to do with my having cried prolificly during a phone call where the situation called for me to lay the smack down to a “John Doh”. This particular conversation was the dating equivalent of an exit interview… but for the exception that I gave us/him another chance one month later in a misguided attempt to gain closure on unresolved residual negative feelings leftover from the initial traumatic debacle.

A snake may shed it’s skin, but a leopard does not change his spots. Obviously, there was more crying. Luckily the initial surprise that comes with betrayal was absent and within months I got that whole thing out of my system. It was more of a nagging feeling of unrest and less of a sobfest. The phone still didn’t sync, nor could I press the star key when prompted… but other than that, things were perfect.

Perfect, that is, until early March. I hit the pause button on dating, so I know the floodgates didn’t open over a stupid boy thing. Truth be told, I can’t remember what I got all worked up over. Nevertheless, Noah almost had to load up the ark. My waterworks display disable both the 4 and the 7 button on my pink phone. So now, it didn’t sync or dial *, 4 or 7. It’s also important to note that the 4 button is needed when texting anything using the letters g, h and i. (For the record, pushing 2 twice does compensate for this malfunction.) The 7 button is similarly helpful when you need to text any message containing p, q, r and s.

Just as a fun little exercise, why don’t you try to compose a message communicating something of meaning, importance or urgency. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Got it? OK. Now, take that message and try to say the same thing, only this time you cannot use the letters g, h, i, p, q, r, s.

Not so easy, eh?

verizonI asked the folks at Verizon for some help, but there was no love to be found. “Can you hear me now? Oh………… you can’t?”

So I put my tail between my legs and called in an insurance claim. Though I tried with all my might, my muscle didn’t have enough pull to get them to downgrade me to the previous Motorola bluetooth model. Also- no pink…

…but turns out this RAZR does sync. Verdict: gray can stay!

Don’t you just love a happy ending?

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Oct 20 2006

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karabee

Stallmark: They care enough to make paper-good(s).

Filed under Buy Lines

breakup.jpgI didn’t think I could love the Daily Candy anymore than I did. Wrong: I was soooo wrong. As a girl in the know, e-mail subscription is mandatory. Today’s featured product hit my funny bone as it struck a chord. I’ll go to my grave wishing I’d thought of it. I may not have paid attention in math class but I can work this equation: Fancy card stock + clever spin on delicate personal developments = Cha-ching!

I couldn’t keep this gem to myself and I hope you don’t either. Life is too short not to laugh your ass off when you fall on it. I hope you’re well but if you’re not, well… these cards are probably up your alley too. :)

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