twine for orphans!

•08/03/2012 • Leave a Comment

Okay, so I don’t know how much explanation this will need, but look here and here for more information.  It probably won’t even explain that much.  But out of solidarity for The Bloggess and because I think it’s ridiculous that Nathan Fillion couldn’t even take 2 seconds to do this, here is me holding twine with my monstrous-looking hand.

[pic temporarily removed!]

caption: i’m nowhere near as photogenic as nathan fillion. and my hand is disproportionately enormous somehow and fucking terrifying. it could choke the life out of a mountain lion.

Seriously Nathan Fillion, I respect you, but this took 2, maybe 3, seconds.  I had twine laying around.  Everyone does.  EVERYONE.  If you don’t and you’re ashamed and that’s why you refused, IT’S OKAY HONEY.  Not having twine doesn’t make you a bad person.

I personally just think it’s weird when you’re a rather public person to refuse to do something that your fans want you to do — because they think you’re awesome — and that was also initially requested in exchange for charitable funds.

Anyway, I don’t hold any sort of a weird grudge nor do I think anyone should harass him…but I do think his logic is a bit flawed and I wanted to prove it doesn’t take much time.  In fact, he made kind of a bigger deal out of it than if he just did it.  How long did it take him to deal with it and refuse?  Like 20 years.  Versus 2 seconds.  Fans make you who you are, dude.  Just saying.  Both of them were very classy about it (but The Bloggess is ALWAYS classy anyway) and if he doesn’t want to do something that he doesn’t understand and is worried might be a weird sex thing, then that’s his right as an American.  Good night and good luck.

P.S.  *sigh*  at least we’ll always have this:

and this:

and basically any of the hilarious entries if you go to the bloggess’ blog and search for wil wheaton.

he’s a damn good sport.



•08/01/2012 • Leave a Comment

If you find a way out, take it.

If I’m constantly unhappy…is this just a chemical imbalance? How do I know it’s not something inside me, trying to tell me where I am is wrong. Take another path. But I don’t listen because I’ve been too busy being actually clinically depressed and can’t feel the intuition that would tell me where I belong.

That if it were different, I would feel better. But I can’t imagine how it could be different. I just know it’s not right as it is. Something feels off…is it me or just is it?

I haven’t really lived. I don’t really have any cool, exciting, youthful stories. I’ve skipped that and have gone straight to being just…this, like, stuck old lady.


Current music: matisyahu – spark seeker & I love lucy

mini mental breakdown.

•07/16/2012 • Leave a Comment

wow.  will i ever be able to leave a coherent voice mail for someone?  as i’m saying the words i am totally regretting them and wishing i could start over but sometimes there’s no rerecord option and that’s all she wrote.  i don’t even know what that means.  NAP.  omg, remember napster?  whatever happened to that? the first song i ever downloaded was turning japanese by the vapors.  just a little fun fact for you.

also, i got the most coherent spam yet…

Write more, thats all I have to say. Literally, it seems as though you relied on the video to make your point. You obviously know what youre talking about, why throw away your intelligence on just posting videos to your blog when you could be giving us something enlightening to read?

so…a comment that was made to a post that actually had no videos in it [the rubbish bin prowler].  also, enlightening??  ayfkm?  i guess for a bot or a high school dropout in a basement somewhere whose job it is to spam people for a nickel an hour that’s pretty damn good, but still.  and aren’t blogs with insane visuals and everything more appealing than just text?  we have a bunch of senses, right?  like…idk, 4?  or 5.  and a good blog engages all of these senses to give the experiencer a proper happening.  i’m still working on the smell, taste, and touch parts.  although you can touch the screen, the keyboard, and the mouse.  but there’s no physical texture shooting out of the screen at you, so that’s kind of disappointing.  i’m sorry about that.

(also, i just had to google what the five senses were because i wasn’t 100% sure on what they were.  i think at this point i need to mention i didn’t sleep at all last night.  once when i was tired i think i tried to smell something that was on the screen…it must have been a perfume or something and i started to lean in as if it were a scratch-and-sniff…)

in theory right now i am writing a paper on palestinian and israeli relations.  like, conflict.  not them gettin’ it on.  earlier i coined a new term: jarab  it’s a mash-up of jew and arab.  in my sleepy haze i was thinking, hmmm….since they can’t share, then neither one should be able to live there and they could totally make it into some kind of jew-arab vatican (you know how no one actually lives in the vatican but can visit its holiness?) = jarab vatican.®  in a way, i really coined two terms.  all before noon and still just in my underpants.

i dedicate this to my detractor bot.  if you’re actually a human: ENJOY THE ENLIGHTENING VIDEO.  it makes no fucking sense, both the song and the video.  that’s the crazy coked-out decade of the 80s for ya.


•07/06/2012 • Leave a Comment

I guess I’m kinda late finding this out, but it’s still hugely shocking for me. Get ready…. Are you sitting down? HOLD ONTO YOUR YARMULKES.


I sort of wonder if he’s been replaced with a pod person.
















In case you would also like further comparison:



i have yer meter readin’ right here! [gestures inappropriately]

•06/21/2012 • Leave a Comment

so the gas and electric company is all oh you haven’t let us into your house to read the meters in about a year, you should really fucking do that or else we’re going to charge you $25 every billing cycle.  but i could SWEAR that within the last year they have been here. typically they come at 9 am and, yes, i am always still sleeping at that point, or just in bed, or just don’t want to answer the door in my pajamas.  but when my husband is home he (for some reason) lets them in.  and when they come in they say delightful things like “the other people last time…”  WHICH WAS US AND IT WAS ALSO THE SAME GUY, or implies that we MUST be renters because our house is messy (he assumed from one time to the next that we were different people because the first time our house was messy and then several months later when he came it was clean so CLEARLY we must be different people???), or he yells at me because when we bought the house we changed the locks and so his key didn’t work anymore.  WELL THAT’S WHY WE CHANGED THE FUCKING LOCKS BECAUSE STRANGE PEOPLE HAVE KEYS THAT WE DIDN’T GIVE TO THEM.  i tried explaining that the last people were elderly and that i, in fact, was not elderly and therefore a different person, but that entirely escaped him.  but the messy to clean thing totally means i’m not the same person.  anyway, i think he just wants to come into our house and be rude and judge us because i totally think he’s been down to the basement in the last 12 months, so i suggested to my husband that we make him sign a piece of paper and date it and/or photograph him holding up that day’s newspaper to PROVE to the company that he was in here and perhaps briefly held hostage.  for some reason, he didn’t think the meter reader would go for it.

also, why do they go around at 9 am when most people are at work?  do that many people give them keys?  then he comes around again just after lunch so if you were home, you’ve already left again.  they’re setting you up for failure.  and just because a car is in the driveway and/or someone is home doesn’t mean they’re not sleeping.  i mean, what if i were someone who worked at night and wasn’t just lazy, and i needed to sleep during the day?  banging loudly on doors and windows and ringing the doorbell four times is also not someone i want to open the door to.  that’s the beginning of a law and order episode.

yesterday i also determined that apparently i can’t ever open the front door to get a breeze because every person who’s ever wanted me to answer the door is waiting out in the street for some sign of welcome.  and apparently you can’t just lie on the couch pretending to sleep.  or pretend to be asleep once they’ve just seen you totally awake and eating a sandwich.

The Rubbish Bin Prowler

•06/18/2012 • Leave a Comment

Picture it: sicily, 1925.* a hot summer’s night, 3:30 am. A beautiful young woman in her late 20s sits alone in the upstairs office of her house facebooking and trying to manage the massive mounds of music amassed on her laptop & trying to move it onto the desktop bc the laptop is feeble. But I digress*, a sound shatters the night. What was that, she thinks. She abandons that damn com-puter^ and listens at the open window to the street below. In the distance, some rustling & banging glass, a figure in the night scampers across the road. The sensationally-breasted girl watches as the figure, at first several houses down, comes closer and closer. It gets in a car, moves it down the block a ways and gets out to begin the noisy skullduggery again. But hark! The foxy broad thinketh this is creepy…a skulking person or persons unknown rummaging about in all the rubbish bins on the block in the wee hours. The fuzz is thus notified. The leggy lass with phone in one hand, torch in the other, stands guard at the open front door until the constable should arrive. She frightens them away from her own rubbish bins by loudly announcing to the 3/4-asleep man on the settee that “oy they’ve come to go through our bins now they have!” this however doth not deter them from their adversarial adventure as they move towards other recycling bins. The girl with the butt that would not quit thought that perhaps rummaging in refuse was acceptable only if one has potentially useful items at the kerb• but none of the homes had such piles. Furthermore recycling is of a rather private nature; how is one to know whether skulker is a hobo or a would-be identity thief? It’s not as if folk toss out bottles & cans that can be returned to the grocery for 5 cents; everything in there is thus worthless. Identity thief seems possible, as they appear to go through even the paper bins. Something spooks the spectre and they stride purposefully back toward their vehicle, alight, and actually perform a turnabout in the sexy temptress’s driveway. They speed off. Shortly thus the constable arrives. Two, in fact. The ravishing brunette exits her domicile to give direction for the uniformed woman to give chase. She informs the vixen that it is actually contrary to the municipality’s ordinance requiring citizenry to refrain from picking about in others’ recycling bins, and is thus stealing. The scalawags have been warned and pushed back to their urban hamlet+ for now. The situation has come to an end. The delightful creature returns to her foyer unsure if she should be proud for being vigilant or embarrassed for involving the authorities. However, she thinks ’twas perhaps the right thing to do as mayhap these foes will think twice about stealing the rubbish.¥ she fancies it was a good decision as suspicious folk, strangers to these parts, must be investigated if they desire to creep about after dark. An efficient, curvaceous one-woman neighborhood watch, and she didn’t even need to fire upon them with a revolver.

*golden girls!!!
^it crowd
• on purpose
+ ghetto
¥ there’s also a garbage co. incentive to recycle & to earn points towards stuff by putting a lot out to recycle and they weigh it by the route & distribute the rewards evenly to all on the route when a certain amount is reached. those street rats were in effect stealing a $10 voucher for probably something quite pathetic. bastards!!!

Facebook’s IPO may be down, but so are FB users IQs

•05/25/2012 • Leave a Comment

Dear people who share a single Facebook account,

What is wrong with you? Unless you’re conjoined twins, it’s just weird. Like, does one of you not really understand the Facebook/Internet but still really, really want to be part of it all and are too lazy to figure it out, so the other one has to carry your dead digital weight? I think both of you are missing the point of Facebook and don’t know how to use it. You should be asked to leave.

There’s a reason there’s only spaces for ONE person’s name & info when you sign up. IT’S BECAUSE IT’S FOR ONE PERSON. And doing something like “Kimndonny Jones” or “Marc Jennifer Lopez” is just stupid. It’s stupid and everyone hates you.

Even conjoined twins probably have their own separate accounts, even though they know all the same people and go everywhere together. When you share some limbs or major organs, you need at least one thing that’s YOURS. Be like the conjoined twins. But don’t sew yourself to someone else. Let a professional do that.