Telephone Pictionary Art: A Great Party Game (with or without drinking )

Telephone Pictionary combines two of the most fantastical games in existence–Telephone and Pictionary (obviously)–and it’s great to play this as a drinking game whilst consuming copious amounts of alcohol, or to play without alcohol. The rules are rather simple. Essentially, you pass a phrase or an image along a string of people and see how horribly mangled it is at the end of the line. I created this post after playing it with a few friends one night. If you’ve never played the game before, I’ll briefly go over the specifics to help you understand what you are seeing:

  1. Give everyone who is playing a stack of index cards equal to the number of players (if you have 6 players, everyone needs 6 index cards).
  2. Each person writes a word or a phrase on their index card (phrases generally work better, as they are much more amusing and fun to draw).
  3. Everyone passes their stack to the person sitting next to them.
  4. Players look at the phrase written by the person before them, then they move the index card with the phrase on it to the bottom of the stack and attempt to draw a picture of the phrase.
  5. Everyone passes their stack (with the drawing on top) to the person sitting next to them.
  6. Players look at the drawing created by the person before them, then they move the index card with the drawing on it to the bottom of the stack. Next, they interpret the image and write their interpretation on the index card.
  7. Repeat these steps (alternating between drawing and writing) until everyone has their own stack back.
  8. Everyone takes a turn sharing their stack. You all laugh at the terribly drawings/translations and have a merry old time.

Now, on to our Telephone Pictionary art:

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New York in Mississippi: LGBT, Silence, and the Campaign for Southern Equality

When I was little, I climbed New York trees. Growing up, I had a New York dog  and a New York cat as pets. I had a New York family. In the summer, I went to the New York beach with my New York friends and ate New York hot dogs. I got a New York education (I have a High School Diploma, Bachelor’s Degree, and Master’s degree from New York schools). I even went to a New York church.

What I am saying to you is that I was born and raised in New York—the liberal utopia of the United States.

But where we grow as children is not always where we live as adults. For the last two years, I have been living in Forrest County, Mississippi. Let me be clear: I don’t just reside here. I live here. I have a Mississippi dog and a Mississippi cat. I go to Mississippi beaches. I eat Mississippi hot dogs. From time to time, I even climb (and fall out of) Mississippi trees, and I teach at a Mississippi school.

same sex marriage support by stateEach semester, when my students inevitably discover my New York roots, I am greeted with a rapid succession of self-deprecating remarks. The most popular response is characterized by a look of utter horror and a shocked exclamation: “Are you crazy? Why would you ever leave New York for Mississippi? This place is backwards!”

And this response isn’t exclusive to students. It seems that a lot of Mississippians feel obligated to take a preemptive strike against their own state. This fact is depressing and troubling, but it isn’t terribly surprising. After all, people are just restating the “facts” that they have been spoon fed their entire lives: New York is a secular, pro-gay, pro-choice, anti-gun, liberal, loving paradise; while Mississippi is the fundamentalist, anti-gay, anti-choice, anti-poor, anti-woman, hateful heart of the Bible Belt.

It is an erroneous and sad little binary that we have all bought into.

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Fun times with Jenni’s Cake Carrier:

The cake and carrier

The cake and carrier

My friend Jenni made an awesome watermelon cake and brought it to my house the other day. When we didn’t finish all the cake, Jenni decided to leave the leftovers with me. She also left the ginormous cake carrier that she brought it in.

After everyone left, I went to bed. I didn’t remember that the cake was there for 5 days. I’m not really sure how I managed this, as the carrier is truly ginormous and sitting in the middle of my (rather tiny) counter. But I digress…

Now, let’s do some minor calculations: The cake was made July 4th. Today is July 13th. Thus, the cake sitting on my counter is just about a week and a half old. Of course, this means that I no longer have leftover cake sitting on my counter. No, what I have is a huge, inedible brick of sugary flour. Consequently, at this point, the cake carrier is no longer keeping the cake fresh. Rather, it is just keeping flies and maggots away from a brick of sugary flour on my counter.

It seemed more logical to just dispose of the cake-brick and find another use for the ginormous cake carrier. True, I am supposed to give the carrier back to Jenni. But I thought that if I discovered a really snazzy use for it, she might let me keep it. Here’s what I tried:


First, I thought that Mr. Kitty might enjoy a nice new bed. So I got one of his favorite pillows and tried to make him a cozy home. However, he did not seem terribly impressed with my efforts.

He found a bit of cake that I didn’t clean off of the side and, after eating said cake, he sat there looking confused and skeptical of my life choices.

cute cat cake

eating cake that I missed

cat cake carrier

skeptical cat is skeptical


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Lebanese Iced Tea / Lebanese Lemonade Recipe

 lebanese iced tea recipeThis is not a funny post. This is not a crafty post. This is a post to help all the poor lost souls who don’t know how to make glorious Lebanese drinks.  All you will find here is recipes: no humor, no crafts. Just drinks. You have been warned.

Now then, to begin with, there is a fantastic restaurant where I live called the Petra Cafe. The food is amazing and the owners/employees are super nice. It’s a great place to go if you are ever in the Hattiesburg area, but this post isn’t about the Petra cafe– it’s about how to make the amazing drink that I had there: Lebanese Iced Tea.

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