What's So Funny?

Failing Failures

jakribu — Thu, 09 May 2013 17:02:00 -0400

A baby came up to me yesterday and said,

“Jamie, how do you recover from failure?”

I’m guessing this baby had already encountered failure is his very short life and needed some answers.

It was a bit off putting. Not because it was a baby but because nobody really bothered me during my bi-weekly jogs at Macy’s.

The baby cooed in expectation. I relived all of my previous failures in slow motion. I remembered my Universal Studio audition where I forgot the monologue from the blockbuster hit “Never Been Kisssed,” or my failed American Idol audition. I looked at the baby and said,

“Your mom is right behind you.”

His mother, Angela Vincent, picked him up and glared at me. The baby was carried away crying over the unanswered question.

I jogged over to the juniors section where I saw an American Rag sweater on sale for $38.00 dollars. I became so enraged that I knocked over the display. I was surprised at my anger and attributed it to the question that this astute baby had asked. I guess I hadn’t recovered from failure, maybe I never would.

I left Macy’s after several associates chased me out and decided to head over to “Great American Cookie.” I asked the man at the register for half of a cookie. I had just had a bucket of KFC chicken and was not about to try for a whole cookie. The associate denied my request and I took out a declaration I had drafted two years ago from a previous occurrence at “Cookie Palace.” I cleared my throat and spoke.

“On this day I declare that the buyer is not slave to the seller. I declare that on this day what I request should be fully given to me in such a manner that is civil and prompt. I declare that I am entitled to buy what I choose and choose what I buy. I declare that if such needs are not fulfilled at the moment of transaction I will invoke the buyer vs. seller act which was established the moment I wrote this.”

I handed him the draft and he called mall security. I was escorted off the premises and told never to return. There goes my bi weekly jogs. This baby was changing the course of my life and he didn’t even know it…..or maybe he did.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Youtube LUV

jakribu — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 11:32:18 -0500

I thought I would share with you some of the best youtube comments I have received. Best meaning worst. I laugh at these now…I didn’t use to. Learn to not let a person’s opinion destroy you. It will work out if you listen to the right voices. Okay get ready. Here they are:

Lalala01235

i stopped right when you started singing. YOU SUCK. You’re also fat.

TheTina503

Yup…you suck.

Lindsey Batten

Ur voice sucks and if your imitating Selena Gomez your a bully I’m really not a fan of her but ur a bully

Ribezza

is ur nose blocked ?

Son727

this was good besides the unnecessary facial gestures you made, which made it annoying.

horselovergirl98

what. the. hell.

emmortalfaith

OMG! u think thats funny ? if u do thats mean ur a bitch ! (:

astrosfan198

WTF IS THIS!! you are terrible. (and are you a girl or a boy)

gollapr

This is sewiously bad.

schmitz70734

Yeah all u are doing is making a fool out of yourself

O_O did you toot?

….braces?

ur teeth

Is that a booger in your nose?

Gross!

No1KCfan6

i’m asking because i don’t know. was that supposed to be funny? or do you think you have some kind of talent? if so, you’re wrong on both fronts. that was lame, and the only (and I mean ONLY) entertaining part of this video was the song.

My Meh Monday (A Photo Journey)

jakribu — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 15:39:00 -0500

This morning I woke up with only three hours of sleep. I put on makeup to cover my tired eyes and walked out the door.

When I came into work and was bombarded with several tasks as soon as I got in I softly cried at my desk for a good 2 minutes.

During lunch I laid down for a nap.

When I returned to my desk I got several e-mail and phone calls.

On top of that I was thinking about my life outside of work like how I should be doing more with it or taking more chances.

Then the uncertainty of relationships and about putting myself out there.

Then I started looking too far into the future.

But then I stopped and remembered I had Zumba class which gave me hope for this Meh Monday.

As far as my outside life I’ve learned that if it’s meant to be it will happen.

My dreams of comedy.

Of love.

Of success.

I just have to keep working through these Meh Mondays and keep putting myself out there even when it’s uncomfortable.

Even if I get scared.

Even if I make a fool out of myself.

This day was not the best day but it will make me more thankful for the good days.

So in conclusion if you are having a Meh Monday hang in there and know that you are not alone. We’re all in this together.

The face of sheer perfection.

jakribu — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 23:24:01 -0400

The face of sheer perfection.

What is my love life?

jakribu — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 01:35:08 -0400

I feel like I’m trapped in a never ending episode of a teen drama where I stand with books clutched to my chest as Hank Windermere passes me without realizing I am alive. Directly across from me is the class rebel that stands with his arms crossed and toothpick in his mouth. Cut to the next scene where I am sitting in the front seat of his rusty Lebaron asking him if he could roll the windows up because my hair is getting messed up. He doesn’t hear me and floors it as I turn my head to see Trisha Sands laughing at Hank while she runs her fingers through his hair.

I hope that paints a vivid enough picture for you.

I just want to graduate to an adult melodrama.

The Legend of Jamie Buns

jakribu — Wed, 08 Aug 2012 01:40:51 -0400

On receipts I sign my name Jamie Buns because I write so fast my hand becomes guided by a spirit warrior. Somewhere in a trash heap is the receipts of meals that have past through my decaying body with the name Jamie Buns.

This may also come from a need of stepping out of my original last name. Burns is so generic and Buns is so fresh and edgy….or it just alludes to my butt (or lack of) or a type of bread you put a hotdog or hamburger in.

Why am I even writing about this? It’s on my mind tonight. It’s the Legend of Jamie Buns. She doesn’t really exist except when alcohol is consumed or she is being rushed by a crowd of people.

One day (if a man takes me as his betrothed) I’ll have a different last name, but every now and then I’ll sign it Jamie Buns and tell my children the story of her.

What I Hate About Facebook

jakribu — Sat, 04 Aug 2012 12:12:31 -0400

I hate the unlimited length for statuses because now I have to scroll through your long winded rant about how Burger King has horrible customer service or why Obama is destroying our nation.

I hate how spammers get into my account and say I was looking at a photo of a seahorse floating by a man’s wrist with a watch on it.

I hate how my extended family posts about how I might need to get counseling for codependency on my random status update about scuba diving or asks me where my mom is because no one can get ahold of her.

I hate how when someone famous dies people log in to facebook first to relay the info like they work for TMZ or Yahoo!

I hate vague statuses that mean nothing to me and usually have to do with someone breaking up with you or a friend that backstabbed you. “You would do something like that,” could be interpreted in 8 million ways.

I hate how facebook arrogantly suggests people you may know and I don’t know anyone on that list.

I hate how girls comment on my photo alluding to the fact that my picture might be considered inappropriate when they have a picture of themselves straddling a surfboard in a string bikini.

I hate how photographers who have a facebook want to critique a photo that was taken by your friend, “The lighting could be better…but great picture!”

I hate couple status updates. There should be a website just for couples that are obsessed with each other.

I hate when people post doppleganger pictures that look nothing like them because one person said they looked like a celebrity while under the influence of alcohol or narcotics.

I hate when people post their critiques of films after viewing them like they are Ebert and Roeper. Then proceed to get into a debate with other movie buffs.

What do you hate about facebook???

My news anchor impression.

jakribu — Tue, 03 Jul 2012 14:30:14 -0400

My news anchor impression.

Why Can't We Be Friends?

jakribu — Fri, 29 Jun 2012 21:37:03 -0400

Because you don’t reply to simple texts.

Because you show no signs of life unless you are posting a picture on Instagram of you hugging a cardboard cutout of Bob Marley.

Because if I was standing at your door with a quartet singing you a song about how much I missed you, you would go back inside and eat a Banquet dinner.

Because you say a lot without doing much.

In conclusion you may think we are bossom buddies but in my mind you were the Steve Irwin poster that I threw out along with my pogs a long ass time ago.

Everyone's A Genius

jakribu — Wed, 27 Jun 2012 14:57:00 -0400

I was at starbucks the other day getting a coffee to fill an insatiable void of energy in my body when this woman orders a coffee and decides to talk about her life.

Now, it’s great you have a career but in my personal opinion unless you are asked what you do in life do not waste my time in ordering or the barista’s by interjecting about what you do in your life.

This woman orders an iced coffee and then interjects,

“I JUST MOVED HERE FROM LA. I AM A PHOTOGRAPHER AND I DECIDED TO RELOCATE TO CHICAGO. I PRIMARILY DO FASHION PHOTOGRAPHY.”

This goes on and on and on to the point I have a strained smile and I’m no longer patiently waiting for my coffee.

Nothing prompted this. Nothing. The barista didn’t ask what brought her here. She just felt the urgency to share with all of us that she was a photographer. Now, if I looked like Heidi Klum this would of been fate bringing the two of us together.

People do this all the time. I never want to declare I am a comedian unless asked because then I get the same unoriginal demand, “Tell a joke.”

Maybe I should of just asked her to take my photo and send it to Ford models where they would politely reject me and say amongst colleagues that I look more like I could model for Wal-mart’s White Stag collection for women.

CDC Clears the Air about ZOMBIES

jakribu — Wed, 13 Jun 2012 12:11:00 -0400

We have all read the stories about the so called zombies and I think if you believe it we can no longer have anymore conversations. For the CDC to have to intervene and say it’s not a zombie apocalypse you know that America is on it’s way to being the dumbest country that ever existed.

“CDC does not know of a virus or condition that would reanimate the dead (or one that would present zombie-like symptoms)”, agency spokesman David Daigle told the Huffington Post on Friday.

Seriously? They really had to make a statement about it? The CDC made posters in jest regarding the zombie apocalypse to be prepared for the apocalypse but I guess since there are actually people out there that still believe in Elvis sightings and UFOs they had to make an official statement.

I hate zombies. I hate the fascination. Why would you want to pretend you are dead, rancid smelling, and have no life? I’d rather dress up like Strawberry Shortcake or Yoko Ono.

Zombie America: The land of the dead and the home of the depraved.

*In an instance where it could exist. I would be one of the first to go. I would not survive. I would fall to the feet of the zombies and let them tear me apart limb by limb FYI.

Cute Nugget

jakribu — Mon, 11 Jun 2012 17:18:00 -0400

There are days where I wished I was 92 years old with a crooked back and a delusional mind.

Let me be honest with you. I am not Gisele or Beyonce but guys do occasionally holler at me like I’m a hollaback girl. Please reference Gwen Stefani for further clarification.

So I was walking around town minding my own business when a group of young 20 something guys turn their heads and lean back to see what’s about to come up the meat chain. Here I am, frowning, walking like I have bricks for feet trying to avoid all eye contact with them when I hear,

“Can you say cute as a nugget!?”

I was beside myself. I felt like a baby chick being birthed into the world. A cute nugget? At least make me feel like I am a little bit more ferocious than a yellow beaked faced marshmellow.

Somedays being a woman can be the most challenging experience.

Let’s face it. I’m just a piece of poultry.

Cap'n Crunch

jakribu — Tue, 29 May 2012 12:16:00 -0400

I thought about him the other day and how this Captain specializes in sailing the milky seas of breakfast looking to add a little sweet crunch to your a.m. routine. I did some hard research and hit up the wiki wiki (imagine a record scratch sound when I say that) and found that his full name is Horatio Magellan Crunch.

Hold up. Wait a minute. Let me put my two sense in this. I want to commend the creator of the Cap’n for taking such interest in his name. I can see the furrowed brow and scattered pencils and paper around a table of cereal enthusiasts with a bowl in front of them:

“Okay, friends. Right in front of you is a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. I need a name for our captain. A good name. A name that is honorable yet playful. A name that calls back a sense of nostalgia to the olden voyage days on the rough uncharted seas yet keeps the theme.”

Mary looks up and says,

“Moby Crunch”

He shakes his head and stands,

“NO MARY NO.”

Dennis scratches his head,

“Columbus Crunch”

He gets back up,

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!!”

Then the young assistant comes in and softly remarks,

“You know two of my favorite captains were Horatio Nelson and Ferdinand Magellan. Bye guys!”

He watches him walk away with tears in his eyes.

“That’s it. By golly that’s it. Horatio Magellan Crunch. Guys go take a 3 hour lunch.”

This is of course all false. All of it. I just like to make up scenarios in my mind.

Also, did you know that the plain corn pieces are treasure chests? I didn’t know that. I just thought they had ridges. I also find it remarkable that no matter the color of the berries it always tastes the same!! Do you also know that you can get crunch mouth from eating the cereal? It causes your mouth to become irritated from eating fake treasure chests.

I wish I could solve a lot of problems by crunch-a-tizing things. Like forgetting to pay the rent, taking out the trash, or bad relationships. Just turn it all into a bowl of Cap’n Crunch and eat up you sassy thing!!!

So next time you eat Cap’n Crunch think of me. I’m the one wasting my time researching this crap.

Excuse Me. No excuse you.

jakribu — Mon, 28 May 2012 01:43:00 -0400

North Avenue beach in Chicago is full of chiseled bodies and tan goddesses that eat hamburgers and still look like a Victoria Secret model.

I am pasty white with an acceptable body. I rarely cry over love handles and rock my bikini like I’m a Victoria’s Reality model. I’m completely fine with girls being hotter than me it’s when the girls display their dominance by excusing me in front of the mirror that I get straight up hulk.

When someone is at a mirror first you DO NOT inch your way until you take up the whole mirror. This also happened at the John Hancock observatory woman’s bathroom when a petite tan girl pushed my friend out of the way when we were in the process of taking a picture. She uttered, “sorry” but my friends she was not.

Rudeness wrapped in polite words is like wrapping fresh bacon over rotting meat.

Back to North Avenue Beach. I silently walk over to another mirror to work on my Snookie bump when another girl slips her way through. At this point I walk out.

I am not going to fight with you girls. If you want to be rude and act like you are better than me by all means go right ahead. Just know this: we all have the same fate. Your butt will sag, your tan will turn into leather skin, and no mirror in the world will reveal a younger you.

So keep excusing yourself and I’ll keep writing about you.

Forever yours,

Jamie Burns

People that work at beauty counters

jakribu — Sun, 27 May 2012 02:48:56 -0400

I am driven insane by these women. I know I shouldn’t. I try so hard not to be, but when you peak over the counter like a surprise guest that nobody wants to see at a family reunion; I get a little antsy. I start trying to back step but these women are trained in the art of selling, and also stealing your soul.

I went to Lush today and the woman was declaring what was going to happen to me like she was a clairvoyant. “Oh I know what is about to happen. She is about to get her hands massaged by our lotion bars. She is about to get pampered.”

I panicked. I felt like I was trapped. I wanted to knock over the display just to sidetrack them. Then she peeked around the corner with wide eyes and well lotioned hands,

“What are you looking for today?” as she laid her hand on a display with a smile.

“Oh just browsing.”

She keeps the smile and says, “What do you like most about Lush?”

I reply, “I don’t know. I just like the company,” and I quickly turn my head running to the mac counter staring at highly pigmented eyeshadows.

These ladies expose a vulnerable part of me. Some people are afraid of clowns I truly am afraid of the women at beauty counters. It stresses me out.

I have an order at Lancome that I still haven’t picked up or paid for from April. Freaking Rose at Dillards has all my credit card information and she also knows that I want to live in Paris for awhile!

Let me browse and test things on my own. I still will never forget having a high fever and being hiked up on cold medication when another girl from Lush massaged my hands for awkward amounts of time as snot dripped down from my nose. I came home with overly expensive eye cream and a lotion called “lovely jubblies” for my chest, thighs, and butt. Who needs that? Apparently I do.

Bed Bath and Beyond

jakribu — Thu, 24 May 2012 23:40:55 -0400

When I walk into this store I feel like I am transported to the world’s best stocked house. If you wanted to you could live there and eat mint m&m’s for sustenance. All the people that work there are so happy and ready to help. Smiles bounce off that place because Bed Bath and Beyond takes you somewhere. I can’t quite explain it.

Don’t even get me started about the candle aisle. My nose is taken on a fragrant journey starting at the beach and ending at the dark moonlit path. I bought a vanilla cupcake candle from Yankee and every time I smell it I utter, “Ohhh this is so good.”

Their clearance is also one of my go to’s with great items. Except when it’s a plastic bag filled with heads of an electric toothbrush minus the electric toothbrush.

I bought a freaking thermos lunchbox with a water bottle for five dollars.

I also bought a freaking trash can and sassy beach towel with bathing suits on it.

You can’t beat it. You really can’t. If you want to fight with me about Bed Bath and Beyond being the best I will fight you till the bloody end. I love that place like a firstborn child.

I will give birth to my first child in that place. I might even get married there because all my crap will be in their wedding registry. Everyone can go on a massive shopping spree and I’ll just take the cart home.

So yes. I spent my time writing about Bed Bath and Beyond. I also applied for a job there and I keep calling EVERY SINGLE WEEK until I get it.

So Dairy Depressing

jakribu — Wed, 23 May 2012 11:37:09 -0400

Being lactose intolerant might be the worst thing to ever happen to me. Not might, it really is. I would go back to the time I broke my arm and endure the incident three weeks straight if I knew I could eat party sized portions of cheese on toothpicks without having to apologize for my sassy stomach.

When I saw that my creamer was lactose free I was so excited I shook my booty at the refrigerator and sipped on a big old cup of Joe. Right now I’m eating the off brand cereal “Cini Mini’s” with almond milk derived from the milk of almonds. It’s okay. It tastes like liquid almonds. If you like that sort of thing.

If I want to get all daredevil I eat dairy and pay the horrible price of stomach pains and trips to the porcelain pot in the sky. It’s been happening too often and I guess I just have to go back to a world without dairy.

When you eat a piece of cheese…think of me. When you slather whip cream all over a pie…..think of me. When you pop open a tub of ice cream for a depressing night in….invite me. I’ll talk you through anything and stare at you eating.

Did I interrupt you?

jakribu — Tue, 22 May 2012 16:27:00 -0400

Coffee shop workers and retail workers are notorious for being in gossip seshes with their co-workers. I especially love it when they feel like they have been inconvenienced by a customer’s presence. A tilted head and guffaw like laugh accompanied with the realization of a customer turns into a straight faced glazed expression saying, “What can I get you?”

First of all drop the stanky face. Second of all this might be funding your American Apparel obsession to buy tights that are so expensive they should be indestructible; however I make this business go round and round due to my obsession with caffiene and looking posh.

Also, businessmen don’t look down on me when you see my Oprah magazine on the table. Oprah is a strong woman that can hold a bouquet of flowers with the title “You, Happier Than Ever,” and still buy your company out with a smile and fists shaking happily up in the air. What you put out comes back. Judgment will be knocking on your clean expensive door soon if you continue with your frowned expressions.

Cute girls wearing tight yoga pants thank you. I love watching bi focal wearing men stare at your butt and look up innocently whenever you turn. There are facebook pages dedicated to you.

I love coffee shops, and I think I’m going for round two on this iced chai but I swear on a pile of american apparel tights if you give me that look again I will destroy your displays and pour coffee grounds into my mouth screaming.

I think it’s hilarious when people that lived in a certain...

jakribu — Mon, 21 May 2012 10:34:37 -0400

I think it’s hilarious when people that lived in a certain decade say it was by far the best. Forget about the economic downfalls, lack of technology, and that annoying milkman coming to your door with glass bottles. I was on yahoo answers about the best decade and saw this morsel of goodness from ?

“I believe the 90’s were golden. :) I was 6 by time we were out of them, and I still remember. I souly believe if we can go back in time, I would so go back to the 90s. Life was easiers before cell phone and internet. Now, its like an addiction, and I’m addicted and I find it gross.”

That was posted 3 years ago, so he was 15 and on his way towards building a time machine out of his sister’s easy bake oven and a 90’s tape deck.

He finds his addiction to the internet gross as he is on the internet. If it weren’t for the internet you wouldn’t be able to go on youtube and find retrojunk about the glory days. Why are people so obsessed about living in the past? I remember sitting in my dad’s chair waiting for the internet to dial up so I could go on sesame street’s website and watch grover swim through seaweed. Even at a young age I could feel the anger in my tiny white fists as I waited for it to sign on.

Now if I’m stranded on the side of the road I can take out a nice slender cell phone. Do I honestly want to call anyone on a big old box (see video above) (pretentious boy NOT included)

Yes, we had great cartoons like Captain Planet and severe tooth decaying candy like baby bottle pops. Jellies were great shoes but smelled like rotten plastic that will probably cause brain tumors and a big lawsuit in the near future.

Moral of the story: appreciate the good old days but stop crying over them. We are lucky to be where we are with all the advancements. YOLO!!! <—-you are going to miss this in ten years.

Coffee Grounds Are Forever

jakribu — Sun, 20 May 2012 10:42:00 -0400

Coffee grounds are forever much like diamonds. Ask Elizabeth Taylor when she was alive what she would like in the morning with her breakfast and I think she would say “get me some coffee” rather than a cup full of diamonds. Maybe Mountain Dew will phase out in the year 2040 but rest assured that coffee will prosper on until the end of civilization.

It’s likely I could live without coffee but would I want to? Would I want to walk through city streets without feel good java pulsing through my veins? It’s a toss up between feeling like Eeyore or like Mary Tyler Moore as she makes her way through the city. However, if she really threw her hat up in the air everyday like she does in the intro that would be irresponsible. First it would annoy the crap out of people, and some kid would intercede catching it and running off. Or it would blow onto an oncoming car or fall in some pile of assorted dirt; if it’s a knit hat you best believe you are going to have a horrible time picking off the myriad of magnetized dirt.

I drink coffee everyday. If I don’t drink it I start seeing life as a chore with sunken eyes and tears filling up the rims as I stumble into things like my BAC is over the legal limit. When I drink coffee I usually throw open the door and float through the day like a song.

So to all the coffee addicts out there drink a cup and you know what drink another cup shortly after. Coffee is good at all times. Drinking coffee in the morning is one of the most miraculous events in my life. It takes me to the highest of highs. I wish I had the choir from sister act 2 singing “oh happy day” as soon as I turn the coffee pot on. Then when that boy sings the high note on, “When Jesus washed,” is when I finally taste that heavenly energized liquid.

Mmmm coffee.