Facebook: Bringing People Together. Sometimes Two People that Aren't Married Although One of Them Thinks They Are. Wait...What?

It all started with an innocent status update from a friend:

"Anyone that found my husband, John Smith, as a friend through me, please delete. I have the wrong John Smith."

That's right folks. She friended someone she thought was her husband but he wasn't! Not only that, he accepted her friendship. And, they were Facebook friends for quite some time before she figured it out.

Of course, then the jokes began:

"Did you find a better husband?"

"You should tell him that he is not your husband. Do it on Father's Day."

"But does he kiss the same?"

Apparently, everyone in her family had a good laugh due to this. However, it would appear that the last laugh was on the poor wrong John Smith. You see, my friend badgered him into putting up a photo because he didn't have one and even recruited her family to badger him as well. And he caved! To a bunch of strangers. Strangers that thought he was related to them.

Until he put up a picture, that is.

Well, for his wife. The other friends and family members just thought he looked strange. Some kept sending him messages. I wonder why this guy put up with this for so long. I mean, even though I changed his name, the last name was VERY common. Did he just think he was related to them?

It makes you wonder...is everyone that is your friend on Facebook REALLY your friend?

{insert spooky music here}

Special Breakthrough Post: Check Out My Review of This Week's Episode of Pretty Little Liars

I have another guest review up at Daemon's TV for this week's episode of Pretty Little Liars. I am really loving this show! It is on at 8:00 p.m. on ABC Family and this was only the third episode of the entire show, so you still have time to watch it and catch up. Join me, won't you? I promise you will like it.

Read my review here.

Now back to our regularly scheduled posting...

When it Gets Too Hot 'Round These Parts, Which is Every Day Now, We Have to Find Our Cool Spots Where We Can

Some of us will take advantage of whatever cool spot we can find, even if we do not fit:

And we will spread out even if there is nowhere to go:

Anything to stay cool:

To think, I thought that was a tight space to shower in!

Special Breakthrough Post: Check Out My New Guest Post at Daemon's TV

Hey guys!

I have another guest post up at Daemon's TV this week. This time I reviewed the season premiere of HBO's show Hung. If you haven't watched it, you should give it a try. It has a bit of humor, a bit of drama, and a lot of sex. It also features Anne Heche who is always entertaining.

Anyhow, read my review here.

Now back to our regularly scheduled posting...

If My Dreams Were a Plot to the Movie of My Life

I would do a lot of running as I would be chased a lot. Sometimes I would get caught. Mostly I would not. Usually I would get tired.

I would find myself inexplicably deserted topless in South Africa. I would find a scarf, cover myself up, find a payphone and after hitting the one and only button, continuously repeat "American Embassy" until the next scene showed me back in the US with no further explanation.

My mom and John Mayer would get in a fight at Thanksgiving dinner. He would try to show off by speaking in a different language. My mom would talk back. John Mayer would inform me that my Mom was actually speaking Turkish while he was speaking Yiddish so he could not understand her. However, he would be massively impressed with her intelligence. I would set aside my belief that he is a douche and we would all leave happy.

The dinosaurs would roam the earth again, recurrently throughout the movie. We would all run through the alleys to escape while the overhead speakers on the telephone poles would blare "The dinosaurs are coming, The dinosaurs are coming" in case we did not know.

The cats would be crying all of the time.

I would get chased by murderers and spend an inordinate amount of time running, screaming and hiding.

A man would want to change my dad's arm (played by another person of course) into a two clawed slimy thing (kind of like MaryAnn's arm when she turns in True Blood). However, my dad would be given the choice to have them do mine instead, which he would choose. This procedure would involve amputation. Since I have never had my arm amputated before, I will choose to pretend it feels like getting stitches and so it will. My "dad" will faint at the scene. I will never get to see my claw.

I would then be on a table being forced into an ultrasound even though I am not pregnant. They will get my cooperation by waterboarding me. Then another woman will jump on top of me and do CPR like movements to my stomach chanting "make a baby, make a baby". Later, I will review an ad I placed in the paper that looks like an obit except it is pink and has a unicorn on it. It will announce the "end" of the baby that never existed which will be named something like Email Text Chain and will state that although I claim there never was one, the baby is now gone.

The movie will end with me trying to drive up a freeway ramp that goes straight in the air while in a convertible. Miraculously, I will not fall out of the car.

And there will be choregraphed scenes, probably involving music.

Who wants to be my producer?

*All of the scenarios above are from actual dreams I have had. Some, like the dinosaurs, since childhood. Most of them recently. I am not on any drugs.

Can we choregraph this? Synchronize it? FLASH it? Please?

Can I tell you that I love flash mobs? I know they are nothing new, but they get my interest every single time. Especially if there is dancing and singing involved. I don't know what it is, but my little heart flutters when a handful, or hundreds, or thousands, of people move together simultaneously.

Yes I am a dork.

A dork that loves to share. So here are some flash mob videos for your viewing pleasure. Since we just passed the one year anniversary of MJ's death, the first two are for him:

This one involves different kinds of music and dancing in a train station. I just love watching how happy the spectators get and how the dancers even get them to join in:

And, finally, one of my recent favorites that does not involve any music or dancing but manages to put a smile on thousands of people's faces:

My Mom and I thought we should do a similar high five video in a location here, but then we couldn't figure out who would tape it. With our luck, we would get the grumpy cursing crowd and rather than high fives, I would have tomatoes thrown at me or something.

Sounds about right.

It's Like Hoarders Mobile Edition with Less Space but Amazingly More Stuff

This is the scene that presented itself to me when I pulled into the parking lot at my office the other day. Can you even imagine? Who drives around with that much stuff? Why would someone need that much stuff?

Do you think they do a mobile edition of Hoarders? The people would be forced to identify everything in their vehicle and explain why they "need" it. The person who owns the car below appears to be living in it, therefore he might need everything.

And B says MY car is messy! I can assure you it has never looked like that, no matter what he tries to tell you. That B, always prone to exaggeration.*

In other news, Happy Friday, bitches! I hope your weekend is filled with fun, but not laundry and garbage.

Especially if it is in your car.

*B thinks I am a major exaggerator...exaggerater? I exaggerate a lot. So says B. I like to think it is more like artistic license. Oh, and also truth.

It's Like that Song Jam On It that I Used to Think Was Jamboney and Which Has Nothing to Do with This Post

Did I ever tell you how B hates it when I hear him incorrectly and then ask him why he would say such a thing? Perhaps it is because when I hear something wrong, it is REALLY wrong. As in it makes absolutely no sense. Yet I will swear that is what was said. This gets B in a tizzy. B in a tizzy can be a funny thing.

So, imagine my surprise when the tables were turned. At first I thought B could not spell. Turns out he was suffering from some Dani-fied hearing:

Me: I think the dog is looking for her b-o-n-e.

B: What?

Me: Her b-o-n-e.

B: What is that?

Me: Huh? What?

B: What is that?

Me: Um, a BONE.

Me: Maybe I should start spelling things I don't want YOU to hear. Goodness.

Fast forward a couple of days when I bring that conversation up:

Me: Remember when you couldn't spell bone? Good times.

B: When could I not spell bone?

Me: Um, when I said Jersey was looking for her b-o-n-e and you had NO clue what I was talking about.

B: Oh, that is because I thought you said boney {note rhymes with Monet or Lisa Bonet}

Me: What? What the hell is a boney?

B: I don't know.

Me: That doesn't even make any sense.

B: Well that's what I heard.

Well, well, well. I guess we are all crazy round these parts.

As if that was in dispute.

*Tell me you didn't just start seeking Jam On It but it really sounded like you were singing "Jamoney" or "Jamboney."

**I am singing it and it is disturbing Jersey's sleep. I think she secretly likes it though. Or else she wants her b-o-n-e.

Special Breakthrough Post: Check Out My Guest Review of Pretty Little Liars

Hey everyone! I wrote a guest review for Daemon's TV. The review is of yesterday's episode (#3) of Pretty Little Liars on ABC Family TV. If you have been watching the show or just want to read my review, please head on over.

While you are there, check out the other reviews and articles (and contests!).

Now back to our regularly scheduled posting...

Crime Watch Wednesday - Don't Use Your Own Cellphone, GPS is a Bitch (Except Vicki - I Love Her)

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday is a special Mom edition. Apparently, there are wacky criminals in my Mom's hood as well and she was sweet enough to share her local paper with me. This incident serves as a warning to all would be criminals - make sure you don't use your own cell phone in the commission of a crime.

A man was arrested shortly after robbing a pizza delivery guy. The police were able to find the suspect so quickly because he used his own cell phone to order the pizza. Oh, and then they just tracked him directly to his house where he admitted he was guilty.

I bet the pizza wasn't even cold.

Seriously. He apparently had the good sense to not have the pizza delivered to his house, but didn't think twice about using his CELL PHONE, you know that thing that runs on towers with signals and tracking, to order the pizza? Sadly, the article did not give the exact details of the crime. Happily, I am willing to recreate it for you:

Criminal: Yeah, I'd like to order a small pizza. Just cheese.

Pizza place: That'll be $5.00. Would you like that delivered?

Criminal: Yep, bring it right away. Also, I need you to bring a lot of change. I only have a $50 bill...I mean a $100...I mean a $200 bill. Yeah, bring a lot of change.

Pizza place: Um, okay.

{An hour later even though it was supposed to be 30 minutes or less}

Pizza man: Here is your small cheese pizza.

Criminal: Gimme all your money sucka!

Criminal: I know you have at least $200

Pizza man: I have $20.

Criminal: Whatever sucka

{Five minutes later at criminal's residence}

Police: You are under arrest.

Criminal: How did you know it was me?

Police: We traced the number you used to order the pizza and you were here.

Criminal: You got me copper! I confess.

GPS* - leading people around the world and stopping criminals in their tracks. GPS rocks. Especially Vicky. Is she still listening?

*I don't even know if GPS is what is used to track a cellphone, but I bet it is. Vicky is too wise to not be used for such important functions as catching criminals.**

**Seriously, is she still listening?

Jersey Doesn't Like Amish People. Or Horses. Or Both. It Must Be a Dog Thing.

On the drive up north to the cottage* we ended up behind a car with a handicap plate. B has a theory about driving on the freeway behind people with handicap plates, but I will leave that for another day. Perhaps a guest post? In any event, as I was contemplating how to get around this woman, B alerted me to the fact that there was an Amish buggy ahead. Sure enough, there was a horse drawn buggy. It passed in front of the woman ahead of us at which time a dog suddenly appeared out of nowhere from within her vehicle and started barking furiously. B and I laughed and wondered what would make a dog so crazay about a horse drawn buggy of Amish people as as we drove by with Jersey barely even glancing in that direction.

That is, until we had to pass another Amish buggy, this time on the road with us. As soon as we were even with the buggy, Jersey let out a ferocious growl and started barking up a storm, much to our surprise. I may have shouted out something ridiculous like "JERSEY! They are AMISH!" As if that made any sense or as if the dog could understand something that involved.

Here to illustrate is Jersey. She went from looking like this:


Such a sweet, out-of-focus, crooked face. To this:

Ferocious! Too bad she was looking at B when that shot was taken.

Then she went to this:

Where are they?

Let me at 'em.

Okay, maybe she was just trying to get some air and crush B in the process. A 45 lb dog on your lap attempting to stand? NOT comfortable. Also not comfortable? Being jolted awake on a road trip because that same 45 lb dog has climbed over the back seat and is SITTING ON YOUR SHOULDER. Good times.

After passing the second Amish buggy, I pondered about the fact that the woman was driving. B responded with:

B: Perhaps she thinks it is weird that YOU are driving.

Me: Maybe. However, I wasn't born in the 1900s when such things were unusual.

B: Um...you only spent almost your ENTIRE life in the 1900s.

Me: Huh. Whatever.

So we let Jersey take the wheel:

Isn't she a natural?

EYES ON THE ROAD JERSEY! I swear that dog is trying to kill us.

Or maybe just the Amish...

*This trip has given me a lot of material. Cottage trips more often!!

Pay It Forward 3: It's B's Turn, but Someone Almost Does Die. Charity is Hard.

This weekend was B's turn to pay it forward. Unfortunately, things did not go as smooth for him as the two times I paid it forward. In fact, at some point, I think B regretted his decision to pay it forward and, if possible, would have paid it back. Probably with a swift smack upside someone's head. But I digress.

We were up north at our cottage retreat and decided to take a break from watching Jersey in the lake to get some dinner. We pulled up to the hamburger joint in town, also known as the bar. Side note: Everyone goes to the bar. Even the babies. And that reminds me of the movie Sweet Home Alabama where Reese Witherspoon says to her friend "You have a BABY. In a BAR." I love me some Reese.

I digress again.

So we pull up and to our surprise there is a front row parking spot. As quick as we could yell "SCORE", we were in the spot and I was out the door. At that moment, B motioned to me to get back in the car. A guy asked him to leave the spot because he had his mom with him and she was elderly. So B decided to pay it forward and give them the spot.

Not as easy as it sounds. We started to back up. A car stopped for us, or we thought. As we backed up, the car started honking. I started yelling. B started cursing and threatening to just "take the damn spot back." But all was well. Stupid car kept driving. We found a spot a half a block away. Man and old mom parked really close. I told B he should feel good and he did. The guy thanked him profusely and we went in for a burger.

And as we sat in the bar, eating burgers and ruminating about how many babies were in a bar, the waitress came over with a beer for B. The guy with the mom also paid it forward.

So the cycle continues...

What We Call a Weekend Getaway, Jersey Calls Heaven a/k/a Confirmation that We Own a Water Dog

B finally got some time off on the weekend so we took advantage of it and went up north to his parents' cottage where we are RIGHT NOW. That is right. This is practically a live action post. Well, practically.

In any event, aside from the relaxation that B and I were both looking forward to, we were also very eager to see how Jersey would take to the lake. I haven't shared with you exactly how much Jersey loves the water. ANY water.

We first noticed when B washed the car. That dog loves the hose. And the sprinkler. And the kiddie pool B bought her. And the water dish. Get the picture? We were pretty confident she would love the lake, but you never can tell with these things.

She loves the lake.

B immediately took the retrieving dummy and hurled it into the lake. Here is a "live" action shot. It is not happening now, but whatever:

Jersey jumped right in like it was her job:

She is part lab. I guess it is her job. She would go as far out as you sent her. Sometimes even farther:

If thrown to the side, she would run the length of the shore and then dive in:

And retrieve it. Always bringing it back:

Such a good girl.

Even when her master got lazy, she did not:

Can you spot Jersey in this pic? I swear she is in there:

Not a happy dog when she has to come inside. She just sits and longingly looks at the outside:

Right now she is asleep at my feet. B put her through quite a workout today. I am hoping to figure out how to upload videos because they are pretty hilarious (and short).

Until then, back to vacation...

Crime Watch Wednesday: Is it Really an OUIL if You Are Sleeping or if the Car is Not Moving?

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday brings us the tale of a sleepy drunk or drunk sleeper. You be the judge.

A man was spotted sleeping in his car, slumped behind the wheel in the early morning hours. The keys were not in the ignition, but in the console. The car was not running however, the front tire was blown out. The man reeked of alcohol and placed himself at a location approximately 100 miles from where he actually was. He refused all sobriety tests and was arrested for operating a vehicle under the influence.

OUIL, really? The vehicle wasn't moving. Heck, the keys were not even in the ignition. Maybe the guy never even drove the car. Are they solely relying on the fact that he said he was actually 100 miles from where he was? Maybe he walked, or stumbled, there. Maybe he parked his car 100 miles away*, stumbled back there drunk and decided to sleep it off. And now he is facing charges. What's a 100 miles to a drunk? I mean a SLEEPY person.

Is there no justice in this world??

Now THIS is operating under the influence:

No doubt about that one. Hi, Dukes of Hazzard** lady! Also? Rumor has it she tried to get BACK in the car and drive again. After she landed.

That's some scary stuff.

*Okay, now I am thinking of that Proclaimers song "I Would Walk 500 Miles." Maybe the songwriter was in a similar situation? Huh.

**I totally had to Google "Dukes of Hazzard" because spell check was telling me I spelled "Hazzard" wrong. Apparently spellcheck is not a fan of bad 70s TV shows. And by "bad", I mean "hella good."

***In other news, songs and lyrics seem to be a theme around here lately. That is totally unintentional. I cannot plan my day let alone an entire blog theme. Just so you know.

If You Ask, You Shall Receive. Unless You Ask for Something I Don't Have, Don't Want to Give or is Very Expensive...

Jamie requested more puppy pictures. I was happy to oblige although at the rate Jersey is going, I am not sure how much longer we can call her a puppy.

One of Jersey's favorite things to do is play with Brad. And by play with Brad, I mean practically eat his entire head in one large bite. The thing is, Brad does not seem to mind and in fact engages her and bites her right back.

Here we have Jersey pinning Brad down:

And then Jersey goes in for the ear:

Brad responds by biting Jersey's cheek:

And so it continues until Brad breaks free or we separate them:

No one ever seems to get hurt.

In other news, Jersey still thinks she is a tiny puppy that can fit into the cat bed:

Busted!

Remember when Chester thought he could fit in there too? Well, hell, I am not sure I even took a picture of that. It did happen though! It must be a fat animal in a little bed syndrome.

Great. Now I have THAT song stuck in my head!*

*I am referencing the Fat Guy in a Little Coat song from that Chris Farley movie.

**I just realized there was an asterisk in yesterday's post but no explanation. It is a mystery, folks. Or one of those fill in the blanks books. YOU get to decide what the heck I was talking about.

Now That I've Got You on the Hood of My Car, Isnt iPod a Funny Little Word?

I recently won an iPod touch in one of the contests I entered.* Unfortunately, it was the exact same size as the one I already have. When it came, though, B thought it was a good prize and even high-fived me. I asked if he wanted it and he replied with a limp "I guess."

Later that week, I brought it up again because I only wanted to give it to him if he was actually going to use it. Otherwise, I could upgrade my Mom's pod or give it to someone else. So, at dinner, I ask him if he would really use the iPod and then it happened. The word "iPod" seemed completely alien and foreign to me.

Me: Isn't iPod a strange little word?

B: I don't know. Sounds about right to me.

Me: I don't know what happened. It just sounds WRONG to me. Before I felt that way about the iPad, but somehow that seems normal to me.

Don't you hate when that happens? A word you have been using for years, decades even, sounds completely alien to your ears in an instance? Please tell me this happens to other people and I am not just slowly going crazy.

In any event, on the way home, before discussing the lyrics of Little Red Corvette, we nearly hit a woman jogging. As B pondered why people jogged in the street, I pondered why people wore iPods while doing so.

Me: Be careful! That lady is going to run right out in front of us.

B: You would totally gasp if we hit her.

Me: Yes, I would. Yes, I would.

Me: Then you know what I would do?

B: What?

Me: I would say "Why in the hell are you jogging in the STREET?"

Me: and then "Also, why would you wear an IPOD while doing so?"

Me: and "Isn't iPod a funny little word"?

B: I bet she wouldn't find it funny.

Me: No, she wouldn't. But I sure would.

I wonder, had we hit her, would we have made the Crime Watch Chronicles? What would the catchy title have been? "Jogger is Singing a Different Tune after Being Hit by Vehicle She Couldn't Hear?"

Isn't tune a funny little word...

Bopping and Screaming - Just a Typical Thursday Here Folks

Remember way back to yesterday when I told you how I would freak out if there was a mouse in my house? I imagine it would look something like Salma Hayek's freak out over a snake as seen here:

Dude. It's a snake. You do not have to stand on that poor girl's head as I am pretty sure it cannot jump up and grab you. Also, nice screaming and practically fainting at the end after the situation has ended.

Actually, I envision that is how it would happen with me too. Huh.

In other news, I had quite a few emails and comments (or maybe just two) indicating that the authors also did not know that Cyndi Lauper's She Bop song was about masturbation.

We shouldn't feel so bad because Cyndi Lauper said she wanted children to think the song was about dancing (I did!) and then figure out the true meaning as they get older (like me!). Mission successful, Cyndi! Good job!

And here are the lyrics to discuss:

Well I see them every night in tight blue jeans
In the pages of a blue boy magazine
I've been thinking of a new sensation
I'm picking up good vibrations

Do I wanna go out with a lion's roar?
Yeah, I wanna go south and get me some more
They say that a stitch in time saves nine
They say I better stop, before I go blind
Ooh she bop, she bop

She bop, he bop, a we bop
I bop, you bop, a they bop
Be bop, be bop, a lu bop
I hope she will understand
She bop, he bop, a we bop
I bop, you bop, a they bop
Be bop, be bop, a lu she bop
Ooh ooh she do, she bop

They say I better get a chaperone
'Cause I can't stop messin' with the danger zone
I won't worry, and I won't fret
Ain't no law against it yet

I bolded the sections to which you should pay careful attention.

You are welcome.

Crime Watch Wednesday - The Gift that Really Isn't a Present and Also Doesn't Require Police Intervention

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday illustrates that unwanted gifts can be a "crime" at least in the victim's eyes.

A resident called the police after her recently adopted dog brought a "gift" into her kitchen in the middle of the night. Suspecting the gift was a live mouse, she trapped it under a pan, and naturally called the police. The police responded quickly. Their investigation revealed that the mouse was actually a baby bunny. They then attempted to return the bunny near the area where they believe the dog picked it up.

And this is why I don't take the dog out to pee in the middle of the night. Also, I like my sleep. Seriously, though, I am a baby. If Jersey brought me a "gift" of a mouse I would F-REAK out! There would be screaming. There would be dancing around. More screaming. Some jumping. And then probably a silent scream. You know the one? Mouth wide open, bulging eyes, no sound. Yep. That sounds about right.

You know what WOULDN'T happen? I wouldn't call the police. Somehow it would never occur to me to call the police to deal with my rat.* Oh, I also have a husband so I would probably wake him. If I didn't have a husband, I would probably call my Dad (Hi Dad - LOVE you). Or just totally abandon my house. Hell, I have been known to abandon an entire floor of the house over a bug.

Really, though, I don't know what is worse - the fact that the woman called the police or that they called this an "investigation." What did they investigate? They looked at the "rat" and saw it was a "bunny." I hope they didn't have to take a lot of notes or interview a lot of people.

The best part though is the last part. They attempted to return the bunny to the spot they thought the dog got it from. Now how in the heck would they even begin to know that? Having my own recently adopted go, I am pretty sure if I tried to get Jersey to show me where she got a rabbit she would do one of three things (1) wag her tail while attempting to lick my face, (2) pee, (3) immediately lay down and go to sleep.

I think I'll just stay inside.

*See? I have already escalated it from a mouse to rat. I am so dramatic.

Someone's Had a Growth Spurt Even if She Doesn't Know It

Does anyone remember this adorable little bitty puppy? The one that B snuck into my life without my permission and who instantly stole my heart and won't give it back*:

Not so little now, but still adorable, heart stealing and oh-so-cute (especially when sleeping!):

Before, she could fit in the crook of your arm taking up minimal space:

Yep. Those days are gone:

*Don't tell this to B because then he will think that he can sneak all kinds of things in the house as long as they are cute. YOU CANNOT SNEAK THINGS IN B! I HAVE EAGLE EYES.**

**Well, with my glasses on of course.

Pay It Forward 2: Giving Cupcakes is Fun and Again, No One Dies

In keeping with my recent Starbucks Pay It Forward Experience, I once again tried to do good and share with others. Again, this was also a result of fate. You see, there is this spot at the top of the off ramp on the freeway by our house where there is always a homeless person sitting there with a sign that says "please help. homeless and hungry." Do you know how bad you can feel, especially in the summer, when you are sitting in your nice air-conditioned car waiting at the stop light and someone is hot and hungry right next to you? Well, you can feel like a jackass.

The thing is, I rarely have any food in my car. Heck, I rarely have anything to drink either. So I never have anything to offer. B has gone and given leftover holiday food and other items to the guy before but I have never had the opportunity.

Until the other day.

It was a Friday and I was driving home from work with a paper plate full of wonderfully delicious carrot cupcakes that a coworker had brought in just for me. While stopped at the light, it suddenly dawned on me that I had something to give! So I rolled down my window and held out a cupcake. The guy immediately ran over and when he saw it was a cupcake, his eyes just lit up. I told him it was my birthday (yes useless information) and that I wanted to share my cupcakes with him. He graciously wished me a happy birthday and ran back to his place to eat his cupcake with a huge grin on his face.

And I felt good.

Sure it probably didn't cure his hunger. Sure it wasn't the healthiest thing. But it was food; fun food and probably something he didn't get very often. Hell, at that point I wouldn't have cared if he was conning me* and wasn't really homeless.

Everyone deserves a cupcake.

*My Mom, upon hearing this story, cautioned me on being conned and putting myself in danger by rolling down my window for a strange guy and that I could have been killed. All very valid points, but I try to keep at least a small semblance of faith in the human race and try to exercise caution with every action. Everyone deserves a cupcake!