Sometimes I get nervous about things and the only logical thing to do is make a joke. Every. Single. Day.


Apparently, Ebola is one of those things I’m nervous about. If he gets Ebola, we’ll all get Ebola. It’ll be anarchy. A big Ebola anarchy.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but don’t even try to hug me now.

Him: I guess I could get a McChuble.

Me: Huh? What’s that?

Him: You know, when you smash a McChicken and a McDouble together.

Me: Bahahahaha, that’s awesome.

Him: All the kids are doing it.

I’d give credit where credit is due, but “him” is not here to ask. So, for right now, I’ve just made up this awesomeness, for everyone to enjoy. Click the picture to enlarge, you’ll be glad you did.


Dear McDonalds lawyers, please don’t sue me, this is not an actual McDonald’s sandwich and is intended for hilarious purposes only. But, PS, McDonald’s marketing department, all the cool kids are doing this, you should too.

So, I bought these cute leopard print boots. Only problem, I couldn’t seem to find anything to wear them with.

Enter Pinterest.

There were lots of cute chicks wearing their red skinny jeans (which I totally just bought last week) with some sort of leopard. Leopard flats. Leopard heels. Leopard scarves. Leopard shirts. I got this.

Or do I?


Some days you win. Some days you fail. Some days you win even when you fail.

Wondering how I won? I tried.

“Do one thing every day that scares you.” Good advice, Eleanor Roosevelt. I did that today. Sure, maybe, it was only an outfit today. But, I wonder what it’ll be tomorrow? Maybe I’ll actually speak at my Toastmasters class. Who knows.

So, here’s my last piece of advice, “Don’t be ashamed. Embrace your true self… even if it dresses itself oddly.” I didn’t say that, someone said that to me. Today. After he laughed at my outfit. Don’t worry, I made fun of his sweater vest.

“Geez, I can’t believe they haven’t named the royal baby yet.” I glumly remarked to Preston.

“There’s a royal baby? When did this happen?” said Preston, totally serious.

“Uh, hello. Today!” I replied, all dramatically.

That conversation was yesterday and still no news of the name. Come on people. It’s not like I really care that much about your baby. I mean, I do love babies. But, I just want to know what you’re going to name him. I’m sure it’ll be all prince-y, as it should be.

Just throw us a birth announcement out there. Something. Anything. It won’t take that long.


You’re welcome.

And, as a side note, I came up with that by myself. After googling, apparently a few other people did too, none quite as awesome as this rap though.

“Damn I forgot my cell phone.” I thought to myself as I got to the stoplight, right down the street from my work.


I’m gonna get in a wreck. If I don’t accidentally run into the back of this truck, the person behind me will run into the back of me. Or a flat tire, if no one hits me, I’m gonna get a flat tire. I know it.

I was only running a quick errand, it was one mile from work, like three minutes away. But it was downtown and I hate downtown. There are one-way streets. And I always turn the wrong way.

But, I had GPS in my car. No big deal, I’ll just use that.

That is until I was “300 yards away” (my GPS told me that). Then I panicked. How far is 300 yards exactly. Do I turn here? I’m turning here. OH HOLY HELL! I just turned the wrong way down a one way street. I. knew. this. would. happen.

Seriously, now I was mad.

Good thing my GPS told me to turn around. I mean, I don’t think it would steer me down another one-way street.. Or would it?

I did a complete 360 and ended up on the same road, then little miss GPS started talking again, “your destination is in 300 yards.” 300 yards again! Really?! Stop telling me it’s 300 yards away. Okay, I’m going to just keep driving. Oh, there’s a sign! I’ve been here before, why don’t I remember the sign? For that matter, I’ve been working basically in downtown Wichita for 10 years, why don’t I know how to get anywhere. Especially without going the wrong way down a one-way street.

Shit, who cares. I made it.

Now the only thing I have to worry about is the three minute drive back to work.

“What?! Why are we taking family pictures again? We just took them!”

“That was in the fall, almost 8 months ago.” I said, as I looked at Preston and smiled as sweetly as I possibly could.

But, he was right.

In November, we got our first EVER set of family pictures taken and I love them! There were so many good pictures I still can’t decide which ones I want to blow up to hang on the walls. Mad props to my friend Trish for these pics!



But, you know how kids are, they keep growing up and stuff. And, if I (or some other photographer) don’t capture these moments, who will?

So, what was I to do when this photographer, that I follow on Facebook, offered a free family session? How could I possibly pass that up? I love her style. So what if she’s teaching a class and there will be lots of other people taking our pictures too (that must mean more pictures for me). More free photos. So what if it’s on an 110 degree day. I mean, I have to do this. Right? I have no choice. (;

I mean, I know Preston works in a shop that gets to over 112 degrees during the summer, for like five days a week, sometimes six.

I tried empathetically reasoning with him, “You can wear shorts. Um, if you wear these flip flops.” It’s fashion, people. Fashion.

He wasn’t buying it. “I don’t wear flip flops, or any sort of sandals! EVER!”

With another cute little smile, I let out a whiny, “Pleeeeeeease. You’ll look so cute.”

“No. Someone will probably take a picture of my feet and you’ll post it on Facebook.”

10 minutes later, we came to a semi-agreement, “I’ll wear the flip flops if you let me buy that awesome Florida State dri-fit jacket.”

And that’s what marriage is all about. I’ll give you something if you give me something. Am I right?

Last week I had to give my first ever bus tour to a bunch of people I’d never met. First, I’m not good with directions. Second, I don’t know many interesting facts about the city I live in. Sounds perfect for a tour guide, right?

We were traveling from Wichita to El Dorado (a 45 minute bus ride) and all I had to do was point out some facts about the two cities and some facts about the company I work for. I was even given talking points. Easy, right?

Well, not so easy when you get nervous speaking in front of people.

So, it’s a good thing I prepared a few corny jokes to break the awkward silence.  Problem is, anytime I tell a joke I either screw it up or start laughing right before the punch line.

What do you call a pig who knows karate? A (insert laughing) porkchop! Baahaahahahah!

But, now that I think about it, laughing at your own joke right at the punch line make sense. I mean, at least they know where to start laughing. (;

And then I got this joke from a friend who got it from a friend (who heard it from another… Reo Speedwagon)  and I knew it was Blendra-worthy.

Animation + Alcohol + Corny Jokes =

“Two Chips” / An Animated Short from Adam Patch on Vimeo.

How’s that for a “corn”y joke? Get it? Corn chips. I made that up myself. Hahhaa. And I’m still laughing about it.

Anytime Karla and I go anywhere, it turns into an adventure. This time, however, it turned into a life lesson. A driving life lesson.

It was 5:45 pm and just turning dark, we left my house and headed to bunko.

As I drove though a 4-way stop, I looked to my left and said, “dang, that truck must have been in a hurry, he got awful close to me.” But, we continued on, talking and laughing.

Five minutes later we heard a truck honking, as we drove by…

Me: Geez. Rude. Did I do something wrong? Do you think he was honking at me?
Karla: Nah, I think you’ve been in this same lane the whole time.
Me: Jerk.

So, we continue on, talking and laughing.

Five minutes later…

Me: Wow, this road is reaaaally dark. Think I should turn my brights on? (I attempt to pull the lever for the bright lights)
Karla: No, you shouldn’t. Wait! Are your lights even on?
Me: What? Of course! OMG! My lights aren’t on! Shit, how do I turn my lights on? Why were they off?
Karla: That’s probably why that truck was honking!
Me: Holy cow! I’m glad we didn’t die!

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hit by a car. Except…

  1. This wasn’t fun
  2. This wasn’t a game. And,
  3. No one got hit by a car. Thank goodness.

First life (driving) lesson: Always make sure your lights are on. Mine had been on, but the day before I had dropped my car off at the dealership to be “maintenanced.” I’m assuming the switch may have gotten bumped from auto lights to off. Either way, I’m not blaming. This was a good lesson to be learned, always check your lights before driving at night. For reals, this is serious business.

Second (driving) life lesson: Don’t always assume the guy honking is a jerk. However, there should be some sort of honking etiquette (or, rules, if you will.) I’ve made a short list I will be submitting to the DMV.

  • One long, loud honk  means the driver next to you is being an idiot and has almost run you off the road! (hand gestures are acceptable here.)
  • Two short, quiet honks while flashing lights means the driver next to you doesn’t have their lights on. (maybe add in a nice, friendly wave, showing them you’re not, in fact, mad, just trying to save their life.)

Just remember, friends, Karla and I do these things so you don’t have to.

Me: You should get a Facebook page so I can actually say who I’m married to.
Preston: Your page could say “single lookin to mingle” and I still wouldn’t get a Facebook page.

And that, my friends, is exactly why I married him. Hilarious.

He does sneak peeks on my Facebook page, so one of these days I just may convince him. Shhh, don’t tell him I said that.

Preston emptied his pockets and placed a stack of papers on the kitchen counter, “ready to win some money tomorrow? I have 90 chances right here.”



“Yep, it’s up to five-hundred and forty million!”

Funny thing is Preston isn’t a gambler. I am. He says he never wins so why waste the money. I say, it’s fun, you can’t win if you don’t play.

I’m excited. I’m already thinking of ways to spend the money.

Now, we’re watching a Dateline special about wives trying to hire hitmen to kill their husbands. Too bad the hitmen are actually undercover detectives. Nice job, Dateline.

“I guess I better watch my back after we win our millions.”

Look at Preston being optimistic about winning the lottery.

Oh Preston!