A new verb: ‘to Brady’

In an attempt to more eloquently text a snarky remark back to a friend about Tom Brady — whom I openly hate for several reasons, but mainly for his general skeezability — I googled “word for a guy who abandons his pregnant girlfriend” the other day. (Yeah, that’s right. I googled that.) I came across a lot of disturbing stuff, but not an exact term, as I was hoping for.

Then, I got the Best. Idea. Ever. If no such term exists (and maybe it does, but if I can’t find it 2.5 seconds after an Internet search, I’m assuming it doesn’t) then why not invent one myself, and why not base it on the very object of my loathing?

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a new verb: “to Brady.”

That’s right — from now on, whenever you’re talking about some dude who abandoned his poor, vulnerable, hormonal pregnant girlfriend — and his own child, for crying out loud! — regardless of how hot the supermodel he left her for is, you have a sweet, more succinct way to say it: “Can you believe he Bradied her like that? What a douchebag!”

(If you’re using this term more than once a week, you might want to reassess the crowd you’re hanging with.)

Will this stack up the the success of “to Squire“? Probably, because that never really got off the ground, as far as I know. But if we band together to make “to Brady” work, anything can happen!

Maybe it'll even make him cry!

Maybe it’ll even make him cry!

Happy Vegetarian Awareness Month!

Are you aware I am a vegetarian? Well, now you are! So happy Vegetarian Awareness Month!

OK, I am actually a pescetarian, meaning I eat seafood but no other meat. But we don’t have our own awareness month yet, so I’m jumping on the vegetarians’ bandwagon for now. Though I’d probably be shunned by the “real” vegetarian community, because I still use chicken stock to cook and sometimes I make Zach give me a bite of a meatball if it looks good.

I stopped eating meat about five years ago, mostly because:

a) I don’t really like it (it’s a texture thing, mainly);

2) I feel better when I don’t eat it; and

d) There was this one time when I went to the grocery store and got some sliced turkey at the deli and the guy sliced it way too thick and it was super gross and slimey and had those big pockets of fat and just looking at it made me want to barf.

Zach likes to joke that I’ve been a vegetarian ever since that unfortunate incident, but it was actually a big decision that I put a lot of thought into. Do I miss cheeseburgers sometimes? Of course. Do I have rage blackout whenever I can smell my neighbors cooking bacon? Depends on how hungry I am, cuz I can get real crabby when my blood sugar’s low.

It’s definitely a personal choice that works well for me, and I try not to be the preachy douchebag who sucks all the enjoyment out of eating for people who consume food other than ricepaper cracker flats. I’m sure PETA wouldn’t approve, but I am OK with that.

OK, I'm sure it's not true that I'm never douchey about it. If I'm being douchey about it, tell me. Seres.

OK, I doubt that I’m NEVER douchey about it. But if I’m being douchey about it, tell me. Seres.

Weekend adventure: The Great Pumpkin is in our midst!

Last week one of my co-workers wrote an article about a giant pumpkin grown in Shelby, Mont., that squashed the previous state record for giant pumpkin-ness. It weighs 1,168 pounds, and is currently the 28th largest pumpkin in the country, according to the Great Pumpkin Commonwealth. (Yes, I squeed upon discovering such a commonwealth exists.)

The great pumpkin lives!  (Photo courtesy of Kyle Koschmeder)

The Great Pumpkin lives!
(Photo courtesy of Kyle Koschmeder)

Naturally, I was mesmerized from the get-go.

When I first told Zach the Great Pumpkin was in our midst, he was unimpressed. See, he hails from Eureka, Ill., the former Pumpkin Capital of the World, apparently, so he’s seen his fair share of extreme pumpkins. And, there are some hard feelings regarding Eureka’s fall from pumpkindom, as a neighboring community stole the namesake Libby pumpkin plant, and the title along with it, some years ago. (Never mind that all this happened before Zach was even born.)

Despite his initial lack of enthusiasm, Zach suggested we take a day trip up to Shelby, which is a little more than an hour north of Great Falls, to see the G.P.  So we hopped in the car Saturday afternoon, ready for a little adventure.

We got to Shelby, parked, and realized we should probably find out just where in town this G.P. was located. We looked it up and found out it was reportedly stationed at Shelby Paint and Hardware. Then, in a quintessential small-town moment, we looked up from the phone to realize we were right across the street from it.

We went inside and asked an employee where we could see the Great Pumpkin. Much to our dismay, she informed us that the G.P. had already been purchased and transported to another small town that’s actually only 10 minutes from Great Falls, instead of 75. But, we were in luck, because there was ANOTHER GIANT PUMPKIN outside. This one only weighed about 800 pounds, compared to nearly 1,200 for the actual G.P., but it was still larger than your average gourd.

Still pretty big, though it looked kind of mushy.

Still pretty big, though it looked kind of smooshed.

We weren’t going to settle for second place though, not after dreaming of meeting the Great Pumpkin for three entire days. After a quick stop at the Oasis, a little dive bar next to the hardware store that had an unusual combination of dead animal heads and ladies’ undergarments hanging on the walls, we started back down I-15 to Vaughn, the G.P.’s new residence.

Oasis

About an hour later, we reached the corn maze to which the Great Pumpkin had been sold. We quickly realized we were the oldest people there without kids, and that they wanted us to pay $16 to enter.  The lady at the entrance was kind enough to let us go in without paying when she found out we just wanted to a few moments to take in the Great Pumpkin’s magnificence.

And then, there it was, in all its 1200-pound glory:

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Giant pumpkin portrait

Real Great Pumpkin

A dream is realized!

Since there’s really not much you can do with a giant pumpkin other than get a few pictures taken with it, we left about five minutes later. We thought we had wrapped up our giant-fruit encounters for the day. Boy, were we wrong. Pleasantly, pleasantly wrong.

On our way home, we stopped off at Albertsons to get some dinner ingredients. And, much to our delight (while, mine, at least), we spotted … HIM.

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Blue

An employee at a Spirit Halloween Store, he stood on the sidewalk next to a busy street, dressed up like a giant blueberry, hoping to lure customers into the nearby store with his dance moves and blueberry-ing.  Well, that’s what he said when we pulled up next to him, and I shouted “Hey, what’s your deal?” out the window.

(OK, I guess this wasn’t technically another giant fruit, just a dude dressed up as one. Counts in my book though.)

In the end, it took us about two hours longer than we needed, and we drove 150 miles out of our way, but our adventure to find the Great Pumpkin was worth it. Linus would be proud.

Linus with sign

Linus

#psl #omg!

Guysh! Hey guysh! It is officially fall, so I wanted to tell you about this top-secret coffee drink that you are going to love! It’s called … a pumpkin spice latte! It’s pretty new and very few people have even heard about it, and they definitely never post photos of it on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram and abbreviate it with hashtag psl every time they get one, that’s for sure.

Hashtag itsfall! Hashtag yum!

Hashtag itsfall! Hashtag yum!

I kid, of course. Someone posts a photo of their pumpkin spice latte at least four times a second this time of year. In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw my first hashtag psl photo of the season at 12:01 a.m. Sept. 1. Somehow, the mere presence of a hashtag psl meant “It’s fall!!!!!” It probably doesn’t help that, what with me being in/from Montana, I also have a lot of friends who are white girls, who, according to Twitter, are the ultimate hashtag psl connoisseurs.

I have nothing against people who enjoy pumpkin spice lattes. I don’t drink them often myself, but I do like just about anything with pumpkin. It just makes me chuckle when I see so many people declaring it fall when it’s still 90 degrees out, even in Montana, simply because they’ve had one.

Alternate Squires Family photos

A few years ago now, when Awkward Family Photos was starting to get big, Zach went on a random tirade when he thought it was really funny to find photos depicting an “Alternate Squires Family” to post on my Facebook wall. Since he thinks he’s just so damn clever, he’s been begging me to blog about it since. Because he recently went through all the work to dig them up on Facebook, I’m finally obliging.

First, here’s a photo of the Real Squires Family, probably from around 1998, for context:

Bill, Beckie, Allison, Jason. We're all totally normal, trust me.

From right to left: Bill, Beckie, Allison, Jason. We’re all totally normal. Don’t let my mom’s visor deceive you.

Why would you ever feel the need to poke fun at such a cute little non-weird family? I have no idea. But once Zach got started, there was no stopping him.

First up: Asian Squires Family, in which Asian Jason was banished to the corner away from the rest of our little Asian family for an unknown reason:

My mom doesn't get it.

My mom doesn’t get it.

Then on to the Alternate Squires Family Vacation, during which “I” wore some really flattering shorts:

Family vacation

Amish Squires Family:

Amish

’80s Squires Family, in which Zach implies that my brother is a girl. I’m sure it was an accident:

80s

(For the record: My brother is a boy.) (We’re pretty sure.)

Alternate Squires Family That is Somehow More Normal Than the Real Squires Family Even Though They Don’t Know How to Use a Couch:

Normal

And finally, the overwhelming fan favorite: Alternate Squires Family in which Allison and Jason are Monkeys, which Zach apparently thought would make a great birthday present to me:

Monkeys

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