Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Valentine's concert

For Valentine's Day this year, Andy and I sang for a concert at Westminster college. The video below is the song Andy and I sang as well as a group number of Westminster alumni.

Enjoy!


video

Friday, February 13, 2009

A howling good time.

Andy and I have discovered what brings out the worst in us. We found out what reveals the inner bigot and what diminishes the conscience to allow unthinkable remarks to freely fly from our mouths. I am, of course, referring to the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show.

The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show provided a very enjoyable and thoroughly inappropriate evening for us last night.

It began innocently enough, with the hound group. We oohed and ahhed over the adorable dogs until something caught Andy’s attention. “I think you have to be an unbearably ugly woman to show hounds.”
How true it is, too! Out of all of the different groups of dogs, the handlers of the hounds were, by far, the most pitiful. We laughed as each outfit shown became more and more atrocious. We questioned the handlers’ sexual orientation and settled on the idea that if the handlers look painfully terrible, their dogs would look better. No excuse. No excuse at all.

From that point on, our participation in the dog show increased ten fold. We began mocking the commentators and picking apart the gaits of the handlers. We decided which dogs shouldn't win and shouted our discontent when they did (damn standard poodles. I hate them).

When all was said and done, our evening turned out to be one which would make Mel Brooks proud. Not a single race was left un-offended. Not a single outfit went without severe ridicule (what with their Dr. Scholl's shoes and ill-fitting, shiney skirt-suits). Not an ugly dog was left unnamed (that’s right…we even attacked the dogs). However, amidst all of our negative comments, we were very happy that the 10 year old sussex spaniel won. Way to go, Stump!

We have decided that when we have a house, we will get a German Wirehaired Pointer named Beard Man and an English bulldog named Awesome Dude.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Sacrifice all of your blood.

I am notorious for talking in my sleep. Usually, I have harmless conversations with whomever may be present in my dreamland. I have experienced everything completely asleep from discussing foreign policy with former president George W. Bush to quoting random movies like 'Dave' and 'Labyrinth' with my good friend, Tope. I am vaguely aware of these late-night rendezvous but am never able to break my trance. I am aware that I sit up and have complete conversations with people in my dream, but I have never been able to just lie back down and go to sleep.
Last night, I was able to scare the bejesus out of Andy. He was just drifting to sleep when I rolled over and sang "Sacrifice all of your blood!" to the tune of a snappy jingle. Whether I laughed or not, I am not sure. When I imagine the situation, I imagine myself laughing maniacally.After realizing that I was not awake, Andy shook my shoulder.
"Candace," said a panicked Andy.
"Homanommmm," replied a sleepy Candace.
"Do you know what you just said?" inquired Andy.
"Yes," replied Candace. "I was sjkfjsjdhgf for the thing."
Andy laughed and realized I was completely dead to the world.
Just at that moment, my cat decided that 12:30 am was the time that I needed to wake up. With great gusto, Mort Goldman bit my toes.
"Ow, kitty. Stop it."
"Candace, are you awake?"
"Yes"
"Do you realize what you just said?"
I immediately felt the dread of finding out what I had said in my sleep. "No," I replied.
"You just sang 'sacrifice all of your blood'"
"Really." was the only response that came to mind. "I had a dream I was stirring a pot of something."

Hmm. Go figure. Thoughts?