Dead Sharks are Fun!!!

I've been trying to publish this post for days, but my internet's been a little unreliable so keep in mind that this post is a little old.

While strolling along the beach today (in New Zealand! heehee), I came across a dead shark. Naturally, I wanted to touch it. So I did.

Reverse Gay-dar

According to my sister Kelli, I suffer from what you would call "reverse gay-dar." Rather than sniffing out and disregarding men who appear to be gay, I instead sniff them out and become instantly attracted. It's not that I want what I can't have, it's just that I honestly don't realize they're gay.

OK, here's the back story. My first year at BYU, there was this guy that lived in my apartment complex who I thought was a Greek god reincarnate. Seriously, he was HOT. And the fact that he dressed well made him even hotter. In fact, he dressed a little too well. My friend picked up on this and teased me that he was gay, but I disregarded her with the rationalization that, "we're at BYU." Rock solid argument, I know.

Anyways, I was looking at one of my friend's facebook page the other night and saw that she was friends with that certain "old flame" (I wish) and asked her what the connection was (and I won't lie, I wanted her to hook me up). She promptly replied, stating that she was "tight with the underground BYU gay community," had met him through "one of his boyfriends," and that he was "gay, gay, gay, gay, GAY."

I always had a feeling that my affinity towards metro guys would eventually cause problems.

Rooftop Messages

My entire family (all 22 of us!) was able to get together for the holidays this year and in order to maximize family bonding, we've been getting together practically everyday for some sort of activity. One involved gingerbread houses. All the houses turned out beautifully, but their fatal mistake was letting me decorate one of the rooftops.


There is still a debate within the Kerr household as to whether this message is intended for Santa Claus or extra terrestrials.

"my momma learned me to spoke real good"

Every now and again I'll go back and re-read some of my previous school work, and I admit that I'm slightly impressed by my writing skills most of the time. Other times, however, not so much. Here is a particularly humbling story:

Sitting in my Prehistoric European Archaeology class, waiting as my teacher passes back our most recent site analyses.

Prof Bartlett: "You all did pretty well on your papers, but you need to make sure you proof read before you turn them in. There was one paper that really made me laugh. I don't remember who wrote it, but they meant to say that this particular site yielded many historically significant artifacts, but wrote that it wielded many artifacts instead. I just got this image of arms sticking out of the ground, swinging ceramics around in the air."

Yeah, guess who wrote that paper. Not my finest hour.


Horrible illustration aside, I think you get my point.