Story of the Month: Brain Breaks


In the spirit of the Thanksgiving season, we at RevPub decided to do a special post about something we are very thankful for: the brain.

The brain doesn’t get nearly enough love. We tend to just expect it to work well all the time, and when it doesn’t, we think what the hell? Sometimes, the brain needs a reboot — just like our phones and computers. It’s these moments that make us appreciate the power of our brain. It’s these moments that make for some really awesome (and funny) stories.

10 Epically Stupid Things We’ve Done When Our Brain Breaks:

(10-6 are by Raven and 5-1 are by James)

10.) I have put my hoodie on backwards several times. And I mean hood full-over-my-face, and I ask myself every time, “Why is it so dark?!” and am really confused. I’ve even tried walking a couple times — probably looking like a mummy.

9.) One night when I got home from work, I got out of the car and walked up to my backdoor. It was locked, so I grabbed my car keypad and pushed the unlock button. And again and again, but the door wouldn’t unlock! Turns out, you need a KEY to unlock a deadbolt, not the car keypad…

8.) And one morning at work, I walked up to the elevator and swiped my key card in front of the buttons. After a few swipes and mentally stomping my foot, I realized what I was doing and pushed the button. (I’ll only admit to doing that once, the others I deny).

7.) For the girls out there: The last time I dyed my hair, I mixed the conditioner in the solution instead of the color. I even put it all over my hair until I realized I’d mixed the wrong thing. I couldn’t believe how thick the color solution was and it smelled great! I basically deep conditioned with chemicals for 15 minutes.

6.) Just last week at about 6 p.m., I was talking with a friend and getting ready to leave work. So, naturally I grabbed my keys and sunglasses. I put my sunglasses on top of my head, talked with her for 20 minutes, and headed outside. The moment I stepped outside I pulled my sunglasses down, and it got really dark fast! Because it was night.

5.) Not just once, but SEVERAL times I have washed my face with my glasses on. It’s something I will do again in the future too, I know it.

4.) Not only have I washed my face with my glasses on, but I have also gotten in the shower with my glasses on. Ever had rain get on your lenses? Try shampoo…

3.) I don’t know why this has suddenly been a trend, but three times in two weeks I found myself driving around with my emergency brake on. Including once on the interstate. As Mitch Hedburg said, “It doesn’t say much for me, but it really doesn’t say much for the emergency brake. More like the emergency make-the-car-smell-funny lever.”

2.) Recently while cleaning a bottle of super glue, I glued my eyelid shut. It was a brief moment of horror when I thought “I’ve gone blind!” which turned into “Oh good…I’ve glued my eye shut…” It took serious scrubbing with hot water to get it out. And I looked like Rocky at the end of his first fight with Apollo for a couple days. My only saving grace: I didn’t glue my eye shut with super glue IN my eye as well…  So not as stupid as it could be, although still pretty stupid.

1.) Once I had the brilliant idea of using Thai Chili oil in my olive oil do-it-yourself aerosol sprayer. I put the oil in it, pumped it up, and sprayed it on a pan thinking, “Why don’t they make chili oil spray like they do canola and olive oil spray? I’m a super-genius-man!” As my nose hairs burned out and my eyes watered, I realized why — because it’s pepper spray, you idiot. That’s why…

Story of the Month: The Slip


What is a friend? Webster’s says 1) one attached to another by affection or esteem and 2) one that is not hostile.

What about a good friend? Some may think a good friend comforts you when you’ve had a bad day, or they are always there when you need someone. I think a good friend doesn’t hold anything against you – especially when you say something a little too honest. This month’s story celebrates those friends who forgive us, no matter what we say in the moment.

The Slip

One of James’ life rules is funny trumps mean. It’s a good thing, too, or I’d be screwed. I try to practice “think before you speak,” but there’s a reason the Freudian slip exists.

A couple of years ago, James and I were browsing the Halloween toys and decorations in the Madison Kroger. We didn’t have plans that night, so we were killing time trying on hats and wigs, and playing with skeleton hands and ghostly figures.

We were looking at socks and tights, and my mind was somewhere else. I’m pretty sure I was trying to decide between yellow and black or pink and black stripes.

James picked up an object and said something – neither of us can remember what it was – but he says it was dumb. Maybe he was right, because I recall not laughing at the joke, and there was an awkward pause.

“Well, I sounded stupid,” James said.

To which I responded, without even looking at him, “Don’t be stupid!”

And I was dead serious. In the middle of Kroger, I demanded my best friend not act stupid, and at that moment, I meant it! Then it hit me. What did I just say?! I accidentally said what I was thinking, and it wasn’t good. James is the smartest person I know, but somewhere in the depths of my mind, I felt differently.

Eyes wide and embarrassed, I looked at James. After a couple of seconds, we both started laughing. I kept apologizing for calling him stupid, and he just laughed and laughed. Funny trumps mean. Thank goodness.

With that said, the best of friends understand when you call them stupid in a public area. They laugh with and at you, and don’t take offense. The best friends know when you slip and don’t get mad, or take you too seriously.

James and Raven hanging out

Feel free to share your Freudian slips below!

Story of the Month: Karma and Salsa

Story of the month header with quill and ink

Last month Raven shared a tale of karma and how the smug and cocky can get instant cosmic comeuppance for their attitude.  I can testify first-hand how this is true, in similarly dramatic fashion:

My previous job location sits atop a very steep and foreboding hill overlooking a park and a farmers’ market.  There are stairs that can be taken to reach the bottom, but they are on the other side of the hill and it’s often faster to risk the high-grade slope and try the hill.

One day last fall I wanted to go to the farmers’ market in search of an awesome locally made salsa, Captain Rodney’s, which has been hard to find in stores.  My friend Misty decided to accompany me and we headed out.  I said, “Let’s take the hill, it’s not so bad.”  Misty was wearing less-than-optimal hill-climbing shoes and thought the stairs might be better.  I talked her into it and proceeded to go down the hill, providing unnecessarily cocky commentary about how easy it was and comparing her efforts to a “baby horse standing up for the first time.”  I was about 10 inches from the very bottom of the hill and decided that fate was a punk by saying, “See!  It’s eas-” before I hit the last syllable I stepped in a patch of wet grass and ass-over-teakettle, crashed down like a cartoon stepping on a banana peel.  Of course this brought huge roars of laughter from both of us.  I turned to see Misty was sitting down too, but she CHOSE to sit down so as not to fall over.  Laughing at me.

As if I needed more evidence that karma is real, there it was.  Let that be a lesson, it’s ok to be cocky, but never at the expense of someone else!

Misty wrote a great short-story about the event, and thanks to her for letting me share it!  (most of it is pretty accurate…)

 Karma and Salsa

The mission was to find Captain Rodney’s salsa. I accepted without hesitation, even though James’ food choices are often questionable. I figured , eh, you can’t go wrong with salsa. I was happy to tag along. We had but one obstacle in our way: the hill.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Oh, here’s another story with a metaphor about a proverbial hill, with all its symbolism of conquering it and your personal demons, bla bla bla. Forget that. That’s a different story for a different day. This is about a literal hill, and not even a battle of going up it! We had to go down.

When we arrived at Capitol hill, I studied its steep angles. I understand physics. The equation of the angle of my body in comparison to the ground, plus the law of gravity, plus the thin soles of my strappy sandals, plus damp spots in the unfamiliar grass, and the awareness of my own clumsiness, told me that I needed to be cautious. I decided to go slowly, one slick step at a time.

James took a different approach, as he usually does. He decided not to study, and in fact, plowed confidently on as if this massive knoll was a flat, perilous sidewalk. Now being confident is not a bad trait, but sometimes his over cocky attitude gets him in trouble. Head held high, he moved downward.

Of course, strolling down hill was not enough for him. James decided to show off a bit. He periodically turned around to rub in how much faster he was at going down the hill, and that it was sooo easy. This, naturally, was followed by the taunting of me and my careful trek.

If I were to have a metaphoric hill in the story, references would be inserted here. Perhaps conquering my “hill” is supposed to be developing tolerance to such provocation in a take-it-with-a-grain-of-salt manner. Maybe the lesson is to not let others get under your skin or affect your attitude…even if you do look like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, with wobbly knees and a scared expression. Confucius says that only you can make yourself mad. Or something like that. I actually don’t know what he said. Again, this is not that type of story.

As the journey continued, and my steps were perpetually more vigilant, and his were perpetually more arrogant, I ignored his mean-spirited words while fending back my competitive nature.


James was in mid taunt, explaining how great he is at going down the hill (and, well, everything in general), when he slipped. In the middle of the word easy, as in “see, it’s ea-“ James fell flat on his ass. Now, I don’t believe in karma, but in that moment as I watched this proud man stumble and fall and felt the tears of laughter pool in my eyes, I believed. Justice tastes sweet. And a bit like grass. I had to sit down, in order to not fall over from laughter. I felt a lot of emotions, but pity was not one of them. He deserved exactly what happened. I don’t think I even asked if he was okay.

The rest of our adventure to the Farmer’s Market was mild in comparison. He brushed himself off, and we laughed our way down the rest of the hill. We bought cupcakes for co-workers from a sweet, tattooed girl. “She’s friendly” I noted with a smile. Eye roll, replied James. We looked at odd pumpkins and people, different shapes, sizes, colors. Some with moles, some as normal as a pumpkin or a person can be. “Look how cute that baby is!” I pointed. “Useless” snarled James. We hunted for a mate for Goldie, James’ yellow and black spider that lived in his driveway, destined to die from frost without ever knowing love (or the spider’s version of it). We made our way back, and surprisingly, up the same hill without incident.

In the end, we didn’t find Captain Rodney’s salsa. Instead, we found moment of humility, karma, and a shit ton of laughter. Maybe that tastes just as good. Or maybe, it tastes just like grass.