Secrets Don't Make Friends

It's amazing how a passing thought can become a mental undertaking of significant revelation. I was in the shower the other day when I remembered riding by Victoria Gardens several months earlier with some friends. One of them happened to say "Victorias Garden" instead of the correct term, and one of the other passengers pointed out this fact. I had not only noticed the blunder, but I couldn't help but assume that he was going to say Victoria's Secret instead of the statement above. After the thought passed my mind, it remained dormant until I happened to stumble upon the memory in the shower the other day and it really made me ponder a subject that has had a tendency to plague my conscience from time to time. What is Victoria's secret? I mean, we all have secrets (though some may have more devious ones than others), but what could Victoria be hiding that is so mischievous, but so well hidden that she would not only reveal to the world that she has a secret, but name a lingerie store after her past action and not worry about anyone digging into her past and finding out? Such an open display of confidence to accompany her secrecy either means that she is incredibly playful or downright arrogant. What could it be? Does she have a phobia of having marshmallow fluff spread on her pinky toe with a pair of chopsticks while she's watching television? Could she have a disease that requires the constant use of an inhaler that spreads spicy curry in aerosol form through her respiratory system to prevent her from losing feeling in her pancreas? Was she abducted by aliens and forced to recite the abc's while shoving whipped cream into her nostrils in a vat of tuna melt Hamburger Helper? Suddenly, revelation struck me like the back of a pimp's hand to one of his non-union workers. What if Victoria's secret is that she isn't really Victoria. What if her real name is Victor. What if Victoria's secret is that she isn't a woman, but a man pretending to be one. The lingerie business would be left in complete and utter turmoil! Riots would break out in the streets and stocks would plummet to an all-time low! The world as we know it would be turned upside down and shaken around in the hopes that loose change will fall to the ground! Victor would be robbed of his secret and nothing would be left but the cold hard truth. Not to mention, his business' name would have to be changed to Victor Victoria's. Ew.

My Footstool To Fame

Alright, guys. I have a new idea for a soda flavor. Hear me out on this one! Just the name is gonna make this one a winner. It's catchy, yet subtle. In-your-face, yet recessive. Clever, yet simple. Black, yet white. Cobra, yet GI Joe. Anyways, here it is. I'm dropping the bomb. Ready?

Vanilla Slice. YEAH! Think about it! Every time they hear "Ice, Ice Baby" they'll want to drink Vanilla Slice cuz it reminds them of Vanilla Ice. Every time they watch Ninja Turtles II, they'll drink Vanilla Slice throughout the entire moo-v because Vanilla Ice sings "Ninja Rap" at the end. Every time they buy something they don't need they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice bought plenty of stuff he didn't need because of the money he got from "Ice, Ice Baby". When they become depressed they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice became depressed when he spent all of his money he got from "Ice, Ice Baby" on things he didn't need and lost it all. Every time they buy a house they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice got all of his money back from renting out his real estate that he bought with the money he got from "Ice, Ice Baby". Finally, every time they watch MTV they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice is on there from time to time to talk about how he got all the money he spent from "Ice, Ice Baby" back because he rented out real estate.

I'm telling you, guys, it can't fail! You may laugh now, or later, or you may not laugh at all. If I were to market this, the rubbing motion between my thumb and my index and middle fingers would not be in vain! However, I am far too lazy and I have no idea how to put vanilla in cake batter, much less soda. So, if they come out with that flavor, all of you who read this display of brilliance on my part will know that they stole it from me. As a matter of fact, if you steal it, I will eat your soul. And just to spite you, I'll learn how to add vanilla to it.

Gravy Train

Because of an ever-steady itch to write on occasion, I, Ryan, have decided to bless the web yet again with my blogs. There will be laughter. There will be tears. There will be consumption of banana parfaits. However, one thing will always remain certain. The world wide web will never be the same...