Like Mother Like Daughter

Well, I know it's been a few days but I can't just go on posting everyday or I will become one of those crazed bloggers! Well for today's hilarious tale, I feel I must share with you why I do the things I do. You see, although I may do the most awfully embarrassing things, daily (sad i know), I did not just catch this horrid trait from a cold or something. No you see, I inherited this trait from a lovely lady I like to call mother dearest.



Now this sexy lady, (above) not only is my mother, but also has a few stories in her bucket worth telling. Like mother like daughter eh?
Well peeps, gear yourself up for this sucker cause it's going to be goooood.

It all started with a good ole' game of church basketball. (nothing ever good becomes of those dang things) My mom and dad  had just moved into a new ward, and were acclimating into their new area by joining the church bball team. With my dad firmly on the court, and my mom cheering from the sidelines, as all good mormon wives do, the game began. Now, the sex-kitten my mom is, she decided she is going to give my dad a "good job" tap. Let me just explain to you what this "good job" tap entails. My mom precedes to grab my dad's "area" and give a good squeezeroo. BARF. Well, you see not only do I suffer from this habbit, but as you soon will learn my mom does to....she grabbed the wrong guys "package". Mmmhmm. Thats right, she fondled some poor fellow basketballer. In horror, my sad mother realizes what she has just done and blurps out, "Hi, were new in the ward!" Holy mother of mercy. Do you see where I get this sad problem of saying the wrong things at the wrong time??

All in all, a poor guy gets felt up by some "new bee" in the ward; my mom gets a little more bang for her buck; and my dad sure gets a good laugh. All in a days work at the Richardson household.

EFY. A blessing or a curse?

Once again the gods on high are out to get me.Today's embarrassing occasion not only was oober awful, but i didn't even notice it until I got back to my apartment. Well folks, guess who walked around campus today with a MONGER hole in the crotch of their leggings? mmhmm that would be me. You would think I would have like felt an extra bit of wind or something? Nope, not even one gust.

Today's story is recounted from me to you all the way back when I was fifteen. I was just entering my, "I think I'm a hottie, so I will go meet boys at EFY" stage. Ya, not such a great plan considering I had braces, a haircut that only a mother could love, and like the cutest clothes ever... Not. I arrived at the BYU campus on a saturday morning in hopes of finding a drop dead sex-i-fied priesthood holder. I guess in EFY lingo they are called your "cow"? (I completely don't understand that...who wants to be recognized as livestock?) Anyways, the week was turning out to be pretty fun and I had definitely set my eyes on..lets call him...carson. whoa baby was this hunk F.I.N.E (as cute as a scrawny, zitty, teen boy can be of course). Well one day, to my utter delight, Carson asked me if he could escort me to our game night. In fifteen-year-old girl terms this meant, holy crapper this boy wants to marry me. But in all honesty, i'm sure he just wanted to get it over with and get to the game night. So, beginning our journey to our destination we encountered the biggest staircase ever imaginable. Of course, to my delight, we got to walk down them instead of up. Alright folks...here is where my life ends. Just three steps into it, I loose my footing and literally start rolling down the staircase not only knocking down everyone in front of me, but yanking my poor date down with me. It seriously looked like a game of dominoes..and I was the starter. AND THAT IS NOT ALL. Just the very next day...my skirt fell off. Like literally on the ground off. (It was one of those damn rap-a-rounds). Ladies, don't EVER wear one of those. They are deathly.

So, after knocking down 50 people and flashing another hundred, I would say my EFY experience was ten times better then yours. Beat that.

Boys should never have ponytails

Well, despite an uproar among family and friends, I am still here blogging away. Todays embarrassing events couldn't have happened on a more perfect day. You see, as i awoke this morning I was delighted (rather horrified) by the 20 feet of snow outside my window. I knew this day was off to a rocky start. But despite my "i'd rather eat dog poop, then go outside" mentality, I put on my gear and began my trek to class. Well dear readers, you guessed it, throughout my day on campus I fell a whopping four times, (not including my downfall on the shuttle). New Genius world record? I think so. But that is not the sad tale I would like to share with you today, you see, if you think my life couldn't get any more interesting...it did.
You see, this story I am about to tell happened quite awhile ago, but it is definitely worth sharing. So, hold on to your hats because things are about to get ugly.
It all started when my family and I decided to take a family outing to the grand ole' Farmington Pool! Booyah! So, we jumped in and began our day of splashing, tanning, and soggy peanut butter sandwiches. As the day strolled on, my sister, kate, and I began fighting (or joking rather). But things turned ugly when the little twit decided to dunk me under the water without my knowledge. Oh, baby, she was going to regret the day she ever held my head under that water. So with anger a burnin, I gripped her head as hard as I could and slammed her under the water, over and over and over and over again. This went on for a good 20 seconds. MUAHH! Sucker!......ok, there is a common trend here. You see, I failed to realize that in fact, I did not almost drown my poor sister, but rather some scrawny, pony-tailed ten year old boy. Yes, you heard me. The moment I realized this, he was literally gasping for air and balling his little eyes out. HOLY SNICKIES! Yet again, amongst immense pressure, I fail to say the right things to my poor victims. Wanna know what I said this time? Ok, here's one for ya.."Um...I'm...sorry....I thought you were my sister." Janie you truly are a class A wack job. Not only have you almost drowned this poor kid, but now you are telling him that you confused him as a girl.
Well to make a long story short, he climbed out of the water and ran over to his ginormous mother (No joke, this lady's bosoms could have fed a third world country) who was now blowing steam from her ears and creating earthquakes as she stomped over to me. O boy, was I  going to get it. But lucky for me, I quickly went under water and swam away camouflaging myself with the other 20 billion kids in the pool.
So, from that day on, I have never stepped a foot in Farmington pool again. And you know something else....I hate boys with ponytails. Idiots.

Catch this blogger folk

Upon starting this blog, I have come to realize my life is jam pack full of quite the embarrassing and beautifully awkward instances that occur throughout my day. Well ladies and gents, here is one for you to put in your pipe and smoke:
It all started with the back of a familiar shirt. As my school day came to a close, I began my trek back to my apartment in hopes of finding some lunch. Slowly departing from campus, I saw my good friend Garen also begining his journey back home. All of the sudden the most glorious idea popped into my mind. Why not scare the knickers off my good friend? With his back towards me, I quickly ran up behind him in hopes of shocking my victim. (Now, if you must know, I clearly did not realize that despite my good friend being single, he was holding hands with some skankish feline.) I slowly mapped out my move, and SHABAM! I gripped his shoulders, flung him backward, and yelled a hellishly loud, "BOOOO!"........ok everyone...here is where everything falls apart. To my surprise, this poor fella was not my good friend Garen, but some poor pedestrian scared out of his wits. And his poor girlfriend...o boy. One minute she is graciously strolling with her oh so handsome lover, and the next, her poor boy is flung to the ground by some strange woman.
Well, with my face a shade red, redder than i thought were possible, I quickly stammered,"uh...I'm sorry...I...uh...I....I didn't mean to" WHAT THE HECK! After that most horrific instance, that is what I say to this scared sap. Oh, heavily days, you should have seen the glare I got from his Mrs.
So, fellow bloggers, if I can leave you one thing after reading this cumbersome tale, that would be......Go straight home after class and eat your lunch.