Katie's Big Stnank

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Stnank: Bad Drawing Skills

Here is a hilarious comic that I drew that may or may not be loosely based off of events that have transpired. It is probably more hilarious to me than it ever will be to anybody else, and it was definitely way more hilarious at the time of its creation.

Meet "Katie". Katie is about to fall in love with her sassy gay friend. This fate could've been avoided if she'd had...a sassy gay friend?

Monday, December 6, 2010

WRC Fall Down

So, I haven't posted anything since pretty much my sophomore year of high school, but now that I'm in college I thought I'd give you a little update on what kinds of stnanks Katie's making these days.

This is a depiction of an actual event that happened to me today. I was leaving the Wellness Center after an awesome workout. Apparently, my legs hadn't yet properly adjusted to walking on normal ground, because as I was walking down the stairs, I ended up sitting on the stairs.

And I've been feeling so cool lately.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

No Chance for Redemption

I’ve made a lot of stnanks in my day. Some of them big stnanks, some of them tiny little mishap stnanks. But always, always, always with the stnanks.
I thought that I could get past all of that. You know, I AM a pretty good person after all. I’m not bad or stupid; I’m just prone to stnanks. If I can get rid of the stnanks I would be absolutely perfect. That’s what I thought anyway.

This stnank tops them all. It really taught me that there is absolutely no chance for redemption in my stnankin’ life.

I’m lactose intolerant.
Yesterday I ate two ice cream buckets full
of ice cream.
I thought that it was snow. Pure, white snow.
But it was ice cream. Cookies and Cream to be exact.
I had the biggest stnankin’ stomach ache of my entire life.

As I lay there, writhing in pain, I realized that I can run from my stnanks, and pretend like they don’t really matter that much, but they will always catch up with me.

Friday, August 31, 2007

I Love Sand

I wrote a poem once. It goes: "I hate marching band, I would much rather play in the sand." There's more to the poem, but I DON'T FEEL LIKE WRITING IT.

Yeah, so I hate marching band. It just reeks with opportunities to make stnanks.

And when opportunity knocks...

STNANK!

I was on the wrong foot. STNANK! I broke form when i should've been standing still. STNANK! I missed the second G. STNANK! i got all sweaty. STNANK! I forgot how to play the school song. STNANK! The football players were on our practice field. STNANK! My hair was floppy. STNANK!

And that is why I love sand.

Holy crap. *angrily mutters*

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Tunacheese Sandwiches!

The other day i was freakin' trying to make some grilled tunacheese sandwiches for myself and my brothers because it was lunchtime, you know? So I butter the bread, and hey look, there's only enough butter for two slices of bread...so i get some new butter out of the refridgerator...but this stuff is all HARD! You know? Cold butter. Cold butter no spread on bread well. No spread on bread well at ALL. So I start complaining to my brothers about it and i'm gonna put the butter in the microwave and they start yelling at me...a huge fight ensues...eventually we make the deal: you butter your own bread, and I'll make the freakin sandwich. But I know that it's gonna be a stnank. I just know it.

So Pat just puts a whole glob of butter on his bread, doesn't bother to spread it, and hands it to me. All right. "Patrick, this sandwich is going to be soggy." So I put it in the skillet and all the butter melts in one spot and makes the bread really soggy and when i flip the sandwich over the bread is soft instead of crispy and it folds over on itself. A lot of the tuna falls out. Pat's sandwich was a stnank.

Ben echoes Patrick, so in an attempt to rectify the last stnank I decide to leave the sandwich in for a little bit longer before I flip it...so when i finally flip it over...IT'S ALL BLACK! In all the time it took for me to make the last two sandwiches the stove had gotten WAY HOT. A burned sandwich is a stnank of a sandwich. Luckily I got a picture.

In conclusion, my cooking skills not so good, but at least i'm smart enough to know what happens when you put cold butter on a sandwich. Oh, well. My brothers liked them anyway.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

The Staple Incident

The other day I was holding in my hands a stapler, with both my thumbs right under the part where the staple comes out, as pictured. So yeah, i decide it's be a really good idea to squeeze the stapler.

What happens when you squeeze a stapler? A staple comes out. Right into my thumbs.

And the staple is still kind of in the stapler, at least the top part, so I can't really move my thumbs very well, because they're attached to the stapler, you see? And I can't get them out because The staple is in my thumbs. BOTH OF THEM!

Eventually I get my thumbs out, but they're both bleeding a heck of a lot. That was a pretty bad stnank.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

The 15 Year Stnank

For Fifteen years I've been making the same Stnank. Over and Over again. Over and over AND over again.

Do you know what stnank that was???

Using too many question marks. Just kidding. The real stnank was:

Having brothers. Seriously. All they ever do is make me cry, cry, cry i wanna die, die, die...just tell me why, why, why do they have to be the most horrible stnanks of my life?? 'Twas a stnank to think that I could ever have related to them...oh...their lives our stnanks...our relationship is stnank...

Even I'M a stnank...being their sister...

It's a stnank to blog about such things, for because they will for surely read it, and then stnank themselves all over me...