I am not a Valentine’s Day type of gal. It’s never mattered what my relationship status has been. I just have never gotten into it.

I see it like I see New Year’s Eve – it’s amateur night.

But, in honor of St. Valentine (who most people think was made up by Geoffrey Chaucer who I love so maybe it all makes sense after all) I will throw a giant bucket of cold water on the event everyone is hoping will happen tonight.

Yep, I’m all sour grapes. Turn back now.

With the constant deluge of “leaked” celebrity sex tapes, I think we may all be under the misguided idea that we are looking pretty hot and sexy ourselves during “the sex.”

I hate to burst any bubbles, but most of the time these celebrities are fully aware they are being taped so they are adjusting their responses accordingly, able to look seductive and well-coiffed even at the peak of the experience.

They are THESPIANS after all, with many having completed the all-important Porn Method Acting 101 class.

The rest of us, however, look like we either stubbed our toe or ate a lemon when we reach the top of the mountain. But we don’t know it and we don’t particularly care because NO ONE IS LOOKING.

It’s in our DNA to close our eyes because otherwise the human race would cease to exist. It’s hard to get that picture out of one’s head once it’s there.

Let’s face it, real people sex, while lot’s of fun, can be kind of ugly to look at since, despite what may be happening in your head at the time, we are not professionals.

Exhibit A:

 

So, Godspeed, my romantic darlings. Buy those giant hearts full of chocolate and the red roses, wear that super tight dress to dinner and, for the sake of humankind, keep those eyes closed!

[Creative disclaimer: In reality, I am a hopeless romantic. Hell, Love Actually is my favorite movie! But hopeful and happy is just not as funny as bitter and grumpy.] 

And now for something completely different….

My Hit Man

I threw it on the ground and burst into tears as I watched the light bounce off the gold ring that had, at one time, held so much promise. It rolled on the pavement and stopped dead when it hit the curb.

Jumping into my car, I drove recklessly, saturated with anger and hurt. I needed to drown myself in a strong drink. I’ve often wondered what possessed me to choose that particular bar. Fate? I don’t believe in fate. Bad luck? Good luck? I’ll probably never know.

You see, I had just received the fatal blow in my crumbling marriage. All the money was gone. He had said it like it had grown legs and walked away. The affairs? So stereotypical and pathetic. But leaving me broke to start over alone, well, it caught me by surprise.

Tear-stained and disheveled, I was relieved I’d chosen a dark little place where I could drown in self-pity undisturbed. As I climbed up on a bar stool, a bartender materialized and asked me what I’d like. I caught myself as I started to order my usual glass of wine. This was a big girl night.

“Tequila” I said.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting, I scanned the room and took in my surroundings. Dingy wallpaper with a sad pattern of stars and hearts. The faint smell of ammonia.

There was one other person in the bar, sitting a couple of seats away from me. His back was to me but I could see a helmet of unnaturally black hair that Hurricane Katrina couldn’t budge. He was wearing a shiny silk shirt and popping peanuts into his mouth nonchalantly. He gave me a glance, nodded and went back to his original position, leaning on the bar, popping those nuts.

The bartender placed my poison in front of me. I knocked it back in one shot and felt the familiar fire. However, this wasn’t college anymore so I proceeded to choke. Loud and hard. I was starting to wonder if I’d pass out when I felt a meaty hand slap my back. I turned to see who was beating me and saw it was my peanut-popping friend.

“You OK?” The accent was East coast, out of place.

“Yes.” I croaked.

I gratefully took the glass of water the bartender put in front of me, sipped it, and asked for that wine.

“You don’t look too good.” Who was this guy, Joe Pesci?

“I’m well aware of that.” I snapped.

He shrugged and took a long pull off his beer.

Now I felt bad. “I’ve had a very rough day.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

And here’s the really weird thing. Before I knew it, I poured the whole, ugly story out to this stranger. It was like a projectile confession.

“Now I see how manipulative he was. How he controlled everything, especially the money.” I was slurring. “And, as I grew older, he started to look younger. He dyed his hair. He looks like a geriatric Backstreet Boy.”

He laughed at this and shook his head.

“So pathetic.” I said, smiling.

There were now several empty glasses lined up in front of me and I was leaning heavily on the bar. This wiseguy was a surprisingly good listener.

“You must think I’m pretty stupid,” I said. And, oddly, I cared about what he thought of me.

“I think you’re a nice woman who got stuck with an a-hole.”

That was sweet.

“What is your name?” I asked, suddenly realizing I never asked.

“Vitorio, but most people call me Vito.”

“Like Vito Corleone?” I asked, facetiously.

He drained the last of his drink. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Wanna whack him? Give him cement wingtips?” I thought I was hilarious.

He smiled, paused for a moment, then leaned in to me.

“I could take care of the a-hole for you,” he whispered to me.

“What?”

“I make a call. Problem solved.”

I looked at him for a moment then burst into laughter. “You are good. You sound just like one of those guys.”

“Listen, this guy is nothing but pollution. I’m very into cleaning up.”

This was getting weird. Well, weirder. But there was something about it that sent a shiver up my back.

“So, are you saying you’d kill him?” I asked, incredulous.

“No, I wouldn’t do it.”

I felt instantly sober.

“Excuse me. I need to go to the ladies room.”

I staggered to the bathroom and looked at the haggard, messed up face in the mirror. Don’t be ridiculous, I said to myself. But, that shiver up my back persisted.

Once I felt a little more in control, I walked back to the bar. My hit man was nowhere to be found.

“The gentleman paid your tab and I’ve called for a taxi to come pick you up.”

“Oh…thanks.” I said weakly. Relieved, I gathered my things and started toward the door.

“Oh, miss,” the bartender stopped me, “Your friend asked me to tell you to consider your problem solved.”

I ran out the front door but the street was deserted.

Sitting in the cab, my mind raced. What do I do? I grabbed my cell phone. No signal! The ride back to my house took an eternity. Once I got home and finally had service, I dialed. Voicemail, damn it! I hung up. What was I supposed to say anyway? I’d sound like a lunatic.

I woke late the next morning with a well-deserved hangover. It was while I was in the shower that all of the events of the night before came rushing back to me. In the light of day I felt pretty stupid. He was probably an actor working on a part. And Vito? Please!

So, that’s what I chose to believe.

And now, as I stand here, throwing a handful of dirt on my husband’s coffin, I wonder again; was it fate? I don’t believe in fate. Bad luck? Good luck? I’ll probably never know.

 

Some of you may have gathered by now that I have a tendency to get a little obsessive about some odd little thing. Ya think?

So, in keeping with that, I’d like to take just a moment to discuss our nations disturbing tolerance, nay acceptance, of bad oral hygiene.

Let’s start with two of my favorite movies this year – Django Unchained  and Les Miserables. Is there an award for best dental makeup? If so, it would be a dead heat.

I think the attention to detail is fantastic but the quantity of sheer gore in Django did nothing to turn my stomach like Leonardo Dicaprio’s mouth.

Though, I do posit this question: How could his teeth be so nasty while his skin is still so….luminous?

It was a similar experience with visiting early 1800’s France. There wasn’t a pearly white in that country, evidently.

Not only could I feel the winds of revolutionary change, I could smell the thick fog of halitosis wash over me along with the national pride.

Thank God John Waters didn’t take this one on and add Smell-O-Rama to the experience.

I think tooth decay is the new terminal disease with actors and a sure-fire road to an Oscar nod.

You have Alzheimer’s, Cancer, Irritable Bowel Syndrome? You acting hack! Smear some green gunk on your teeth and look odiferous and you are a THESPIAN!

So, now on to the smaller screen and some actual, real people who clearly do not have a dental staff.

**Disclaimer: I have seen a combined 90 seconds of all the hillbilly TV shows that are on right now. So, yes, I am making a leap of judgment. But, I feel OK with that. I can be judgey, don’t judge me for that.

Not sure there is much to say, really, with titles like Hillbilly Handfishin’ (one must always remember to drop the “g” to be authentic), Duck Dynasty (I actually thought this was some sort of homage to Daffy Duck but I was very wrong), and Swamp People (obvious),  I think we can safely surmise that Hillbilly Dentist is not doing a gangbuster business.

Which brings me to my idea for an awesome new show called….you guessed it….Hillbilly Dentist, where a Doctor’s Without Borders type group of dentists travel the Bayou in search of the most disgusting maw.

I think our tolerance for watching icky things has run amuck. I can watch people do unspeakable things that are usually reserved for the privacy of ones home (or are deemed illegal by the health department in many states) and not blink an eye.

I make one exception for Zombies. It is a fact that they do not floss so I give them a pass on the whole dental thing.

None the less, I sit squarely in the shallowness of simply not liking to look at non-Zombie rotting bridgework.

And, remember kids, in the words of the prophet, Dr. Seuss:

“Don’t gobble junk like Billy Billings, they say his teeth have fifty fillings.”

I’ve been asked repeatedly over the years about why I am a working mother. Are we poor? Am I a narcissist? Is your husband a drunk or something?

Of course, the answer to all of these queries is YES. I am a poor narcissist with a drunk husband. Duh!

But, there are actually a couple of other reasons too.

Like the fact that my kids love me a lot more when they see me a little less. This is an absolute fact about how most people feel about me. Ask any of my ex-boyfriends. You can get overwhelmed by me pretty damned fast. But, when I’m not around, I am thinner, prettier, wittier and smarter. So, I choose to keep that mystery alive for as long as I can.

This is also why I work remotely. It’s like that scene out of Hello Dolly when she goes back to the Harmonia Gardens every time I visit the home office.

And, that’s how it is every time I come back home too….for about an hour.

The simple fact is that when I’m at work, it’s the only time anyone listens to me (or pretends really well) and sometimes they even do what I say. I’ve even had times when someone asked me for my opinion on something and sat, in rapt attention, waiting for my response.

Needless to say, I don’t get a whole lot of that at home.

But, the absolute, number one reason I work is the fact that I am a big yellow-bellied coward. Being a stay-at-home mom is HARD! I’ve only done it a couple of times for like a week over a school break and was in the fetal position by hour 12.

I still have a loop of “I’m bored” and “I’m hungry” sing-songing through my brain like a bad Michael McDonald song.

The idea that a human female becomes more patient and kind once they have children is as confusing to me as my kid’s math homework.

But, given that the children of most of my stay-at-home-mom friends are alive and seemingly healthy, I must assume I simply missed out on that hormone. Along with the hormone that makes you forget the pain of childbirth. Didn’t get any of that one either.

So, I salute you, my bad ass sisters! You have thrown yourself on the parental grenade and I stand in awe.

Thank you Beduwen for nominating me for a Liebster Award! You complete me.

I will readily admit that I am unsure of exactly what this means but if someone wants to give me an award, I will take it!!! Really, any award. Worst Blogger Ever Award? Sign me up because at least I’m the most “something” ever.

And, it also means that at least ONE PERSON has read my writing and seems to not hate it. This is huge in the emotionally tenuous world of the insecure shut-in writer.

So, here is how this thing goes down.

Here are 11 random facts about me:

1. I wanted to be a geologist at one point in college though I suspect it was because I had a crush on some guy who was going to be a geologist.
2. I was engaged one time for about 3 days.
3. I’ve seen and heard ghosts.
4. Someone tried to teach me how to be bulimic one time but I just couldn’t waste perfectly good food.
5. I love old movies….like TCM old.
6. I ate a burger with Nicholas Cage in 1982.
7. I was kicked out of the Oregon State University dormitory system for having a Hail Columbia party on a Tuesday night.
8. I’ve had a long talk with Sammy Hagar.
9. I almost lived in Ireland.
10. Someday I’d like to have a pet Meerkat though I believe the chances are quite low.
11. One of my favorite songs is “Ooooh Child” by the Chi-Lites.

My answers to my nominator’s questions for her nominees:

1. If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Lucca, Italy….or Paris. Tough call. Can I have a home in both places? Oh, and I love Portland, OR too. I suck at this question….
2. What is your favorite song? Favorite current song is Little Black Submarine by Black Keys…this week anyway.
3. As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? A famous novelist or screenwriter
4. Who would you pick to play your part in a movie about you? Sandra Bullock
5. What is your favorite food? Chicken Tikka Masala
6. What is at the top of your “Bucket List?” Write a book
7. Are you a “why” or  a “why not” kind of person? Definitely a “why not”
8. What was the last thing that made you cry? The shooting in Newtown
9. Who knows you the best? Probably my Mom.
10. Do you believe in reincarnation? Yes, it’s how I was raised, actually.
11. What food do you think should be banned from the universe? Fava beans. They are the devil’s excrement.

My questions for my nominees:

1. What is the oddest thing about your body?
2. Who is at the top of your hallpass list?
3. What is your favorite movie?
4. If you could have a super power, what would it be?
5. Do you love what you do for a living?
6. If you had a full day completely to yourself, what would you do with it?
7. Are you a hugger?
8. Buy it or make it?
9. Sweet or salty?
10. If your life were a movie, would it be comedy, drama, romance or inspirational?
11. If you could get on a plane right now, where would you go?

 

Now, bloggers, it’s your turn! Here’s what you do:

1. Add the award icon to your blog!

2. Link to your nominator to say thank you.

3. Each blogger should post 11 facts about themselves.

4. Answer the questions the tagger has set for you  & create 11 questions for your nominees to answer.

5. Choose 11 up-and-coming bloggers with less than 200 followers, go to their blog, and tell them about the award.

 

I am nominating 7, because I am a very lazy person and I’m getting tired of the number 11. Everyone should check these nominees out because they are all awesome and make me feel inadequate every day.

(Yeah, thanks for that!)

And, my nominees are…..

Peek-a-Booze

The Cat Lady Sings

The Non-Girlfriend

The Midway

Wino On A Ramble

Shari Lopatin – Rogue Writer

Jenny Neill – Writer, Traveler, Sommelier

Peace out!

I have arrived, y’all!!!

I’m so excited this week to get to do a guest post for the delightful Shari Lopatin! Head on over to her blog and take a look at the purdy post I done wrote up for her….and all of you!

Pull My Finger: My Uncivilized Life With Boys

While you are there, check out her fantastic site - http://sharilopatin.com – she is the shizzle!!!

Enjoy and discover, my friends!!

 

I know there is a glut of Golden Globes commentary floating about the web-o-sphere. I also know that I couldn’t pass any opportunity to barf out my opinion if I tried.

I had a lady boner all night for Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.

(I will give credit where it is due right now – I got the term “lady boner” from the fabulous Jen at http://jeneralinsanity.com. I want it put on my gravestone when I die.)

I believe they are two of the funniest most talented women who ever walked on this crazy blue marble we call earth.

I am in awe of how many amazingly funny women we get to watch these days. Add in Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Zoe Deschanel, Leslie Mann, Rebel Wilson, Lucy Punch….I could go on and on, which makes me…well, get a lady boner all over again! Happy day!

Though, some observations did tend to kill my lady buzz, one of which was Mel Gibson. He appeared to either be highly medicated or just stricken. I believe he was paralyzed with fear being surrounded by a room full of Jews, women, African Americans, and any other group he has abused in the past.

Along with Mel, I’m going to give another thumbs down to Robert Downey Jr. As talented as he may be, he acts like such a giant self-obsessed tool that I can’t bear to watch him.

Which brings me to our friend Jodie Foster, who, in addition to choosing some odd friends, gave one of the most rambling WTF speeches since Mariah Carey at the Palm Springs Film Festival.

My two main thoughts around this are as follows:

Jodie, it is no longer 1985. You seem to think that any of us are sitting around our groovy condos wildly speculating about your personal life while drinking our micro-brews and wearing our hipster knitted caps. Unless we do it ironically, which is highly possible.

We knew you were gay when you were 10. So, either there is a parallel world were tabloids still care about this or maybe Ms. Foster is under the misguided impression that her sexual orientation is more interesting than Lindsay Lohan’s most recent arrest or the sex (and species) of the Kanye West/Kim Kardashian offspring.

BUT, my polar opposite second thought was that the piece about her mother was so beautifully delivered, so graceful and authentic, it made me cry.  Thanks for the emotional rollercosater J-Fost! Like I need more of those in my life.

Then there was Arnold and Sly. Wow. If someone made candles in the likeness of each of them, then burned it for 30 minutes or so, they would be the actual live them. I think their wicks were hidden under their toupees along with their little horns.

Then, just when I thought my buzz was forever rendered useless and sad, along came Will Farrell and Kristen Wiig. They did a take on Garth and Kat from SNL that was crazy funny! If the space-time continuum didn’t exist, I would want to be their love-child

I thought Sacha Baron Cohen’s sarcastic slam on Russell Crow in Le Miserable was pure brilliance: “Russell Crowe had three months of voice training. Money well-spent!”

And, as much as I want Danel Day-Lewis to be some sort of a freaky asshole, he just isn’t. He’s an eloquent and humble bastard, damn it!

Though, he has to be a challenge to live with what with all the Method acting. Imagine asking Lincoln to take the garbage out or have Bill the Butcher from Gangs of New York mow the lawn.

I’m just saying that Mrs. Day-Lewis is a hell of a trooper.

There were many more noteworthy tidbits from the night but I don’t think any of us need me to ramble on and on. We had enough of that on Sunday.

(Though, Leah Michelle needs a spray-tan intervention, Lena Dunham needs to throw a couple of Dr. Scholls inserts into her shoes, Jennifer Lawrence was a little bit of a shit about Meryl but I love her anyway, and Anne Hathaway, can we all just agree to not say “blerg” anymore?)

Suffice it to say that I’m more than ready for the Oscars.

Seth McFarlane, do us all a solid and slip Ben Affleck in for Best Director, will ya? It’s the stand-up thing to do.

You see, I am a whore for the Oscars. I am. And, yes, I feel a level of shame in this fact. I’m not necessarily a beautiful, shorn, singing, consumptive whore like Anne Hathaway in Les Miserables. But a whore none the less.

I know, it’s all fixed, political, not about art, blah blah blah. I get that but, not unlike Lucha Libre and my body fat percentage, I choose to ignore the truth.

I won’t claim to be above loving all the pretty stars, their designer gowns or all the pomp and circumstance. I do love me a red carpet.

But beyond that, it’s one of the rare times that the dirty, crazed, slovenly writers finally get a little love and attention.

Ever since Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, a couple of unknown upstarts, won for Best Original Screenplay for Good Will Hunting, I’ve gotten very choked up when the writers have their moment.

A really smart screenplay with awesome dialog makes me weep. So, either I’m hormonally unbalanced or there aren’t nearly enough good screenplays. My suspicion is it’s both.

As for the actual viewing of the awards ceremony, I’m an Oscar Nazi. I’m not necessarily a steely-eyed, milk-drinking, psychopath like Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds (yes, that’s spelled right). But a Nazi none the less.

I will abide NO chatting, visiting, commenting or mumbling during the actual show. Any Chatty Cathy’s will be throat punched. And, I don’t give a shit if it’s during the best Lithuanian Foley Artist acceptance speech. This is a fucking huge night for Jurgi and by God, let the man have his moment in the sun!

I haven’t seen everything yet but plan on it before the Big Show. In the meantime, here are some of my impressions thus far.

And, don’t worry, I WILL NEVER BE A SPOILER! If I lack integrity everywhere else in my life, I solidly maintain it in this one thing.

Les Miserables  If Anne Hathaway doesn’t reduce you to a quivering jellyfish of tears, you sir, are made of stone and I wash my hands of you! However, a word of warning – they actually SING everything in this movie. Just be prepared. And, if you are even partially  human, bring a gross ton of tissue to sop up your eye juice because you will be dehydrated by the time this thing is done.

I will ask though, what the hell were they thinking with Russell Crow? He was clearly as uncomfortable in that movie as a nun with an STD.

Argo  A friend of mine put it perfectly – “It’s like Jaws without sharks.” It’s true, the tension is stroke-inducing before the opening credits have even begun.

Wonderful to see Ben Affleck getting his shit together post Gigli. It was an awesome movie – loved it!

While it did get a best picture nod, I’m annoyed Ben was passed up for Best Director. But, again, I will turn a blind eye to this slight and be dazzled by whatever Halle Berry is wearing.

Silver Lining Playbook   Great movie. Finally seeing Robert De Niro act again instead of phoning in crap like Meet The Fockers was refreshing. He plays OCD lunatic with a heart like no one ever could.

He’s married to a perfectly quivery and uncomfortable Jacki Weaver.

Bradley Cooper is awesome but looks like he smells like wet feet.

And Katniss Everdeen is even more sulky than during the reaping.

Lincoln  Oh, Danny Day, what planet are you from? The planet of insanely good actors who are probably impossible to deal with in real life? Mr. Method nails everything he does but can you imagine being married to him and asking Mr. Lincoln to take the garbage out or burn a damned match in here when you’re done?

I bet a dead Civil War-era president can really stink up a bathroom.

Life of Pi  Light up a spliff and see this thing with a gallon of popcorn. It’s the prettiest damned movie I’ve seen. And, if you see it in 3-D I think you may see God.

Beasts of the Southern Wild   The little girl in this movie, Quvenzhané Wallis, cannot be for real.  She acted the crap out of everyone on the Best Actress list. And she’s like 5!! And this is her first real movie role!

My kids are double that age and can barely function like a human so I choose to believe she is a 30-year-old midget and my parenting skills go unchallenged.

So, to wrap this thing up, I am a hormonal Nazi whore who has a fondness for good writing. Sounds like the start of a fantastic screenplay!

I know there are easily a gazillion best-of lists out there so I totally forgive you if you are getting to the point where you can’t take one more. But, as you know, your comfort has never been my paramount concern so…..and, I’m just a huge, lazy ass.

One of my favorite things from 2012 was the realization that there are a million exceptionally non-famous funny people in the world. Many of these lunatics are just as funny as the most famous comedians out there. It’s really the number one thing that keeps me somewhat hopeful for our species.

So, without further ado, I present some things that made me happy this year.

Noo Yorque Times Top 5 Left of Plumb Posts (because I am learning about shameless self-promotion)

Hobo With An Attitude

Scenes From a Coffice

Dear God; RE: Anne Hathaway

I Was Plucked By The Original Jersey Girl

Glitterati In The Mist

My Favorite Pop Culture Travesties

50 Shades of Gray – The revelation that middle-aged women are horny nymphomaniacs changed the way I look at all middle-aged women.

Magic Mike – See above entry….forgive the pun.

Liz and Dick – In the ongoing train wreck that is La Lohan, we got to watch her barreling toward the brick wall for a full 2 hours.

Hulk Hogan – Ish. I never did get around to doing a post about this one….I think I’m still throwing up in my mouth when I think of it.

Hunger Games – Hatefully addictive. My personal skeleton in my closet of shame.

My Online Humor Discoveries

KidFreeLiving – Amy VanSant is so freakin’ funny it completely pisses me off!

TheBloggess – Has anyone on the planet NOT read and fallen in love with Jenny Lawson? She is the sassy matriarch of blogging!

Bad Lip Reading – I weep uncontrollably with laughter at every one of these and check the site like a rabid stalker to see what new videos they have posted.

Twitter, in general

I really really really really hate to admit this but have been exceptionally entertained by Twitter. Before this year, I looked upon it with scorn and malice as a place for whiney, needy people to talk about the consistency of their morning constitutions. I now see that, if you follow the right people, it is HILARIOUS.

My Favorite Tweeters (though the list could be pages long….)

God @tweetofgod

Amy Vansant ‏‪@KidFreeLiving‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬

Kevin Seccia ‏‪@kevinseccia‬

Dave Hill ‏‪@mrdavehill

Best Political Tweets

What a sad day for legitimate and illegitimate rapists. ~Matt Roller ‏‪@rolldiggity‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If you have never had the misfortune to be raped, fight the urge to put on a suit and talk expansively about its’ meaning. ~Uncle Dynamite ‏‪@UncleDynamite‬‬‬‬‬‬

Enjoy your gay marryjuana, Seattle! ~God @tweetofgod

IT IS NO LONGER A PROJECTION. IT IS OFFICIAL: I’m kind of a fan of Sea Breeze cocktails! ~Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬

Has Michelle won First Lady yet? ‘Cause if SHE loses…. Awkward. ~ Dana Gould @DanaJGould

Why is the same show on EVERY CHANNEL? ~ Mike Birbiglia ‏‪@birbigs‬

THE RESULTS ARE IN IN OHIO: my step-cousin Jaden is OFFICIALLY the new day-shift manager of the Hardee’s on Coleman Road. ~ Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬

Sleep tight, America, and know that – no matter who you voted for – tomorrow we will wake up united in our hatred of wobbly tables. ~ The Bloggess @thebloggess

There are more of these, that I love, here: My Election Hangover

Tweets That Made Me Wet Myself

Who wants to see my wiener? Shit. How do I delete on this thing? ~ Dave Hill ‏‪@mrdavehill‬‬

Jedediah leaned upon his rake and said to Isaac, “Thy wife makes a goodly pie.” “I thank thee,” said Isaac. “Most humbly.” ‪#AmishErotica‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ ~ Uncle Dynamite ‏‪@UncleDynamite‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

I just tripped, fell and then farted while walking up an escalator and now I have the ability to move objects with my mind. ~ Jerm Himselfish ‏‪@JermHimselfish‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If I had a dollar for every time my dad questioned my sexuality I could afford a bad ass Harley and probably some super cute riding boots. ~ Jeffrey Hadz ‏‪@Hadzilla‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The thesaurus on Microsoft Word is not very… how do I put this… “good” ~ B.J. Novak ‏‪@bjnovak‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Are humans the only mammals that blow each other? I’m asking for a friend. ~Dana Gould ‏‪@DanaJGould‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

HOLY SHIT. Is there a sign on my office door that says ‘C’mon in and fart the place up?’ ~Evan ‏‪@evanrhorne‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Whenever someone invites me to go golfing I always think, “Wow, this person knows absolutely nothing about me.” ~Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

The downside of having a bad memory is occasionally forgetting and then remembering the existence of Mr. Holland’s Opus. ~Kevin Seccia ‏‪@kevinseccia‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

“Maybe we can sell more clams if we put them in a liquid that looks like vomit?” – Inventor of clam chowder. ~Jim Gaffigan ‏‪@JimGaffigan‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Realized I was still chewing a piece of bacon as I sat on the toilet, hence discovering the elusive EIGHTH Habit of Highly Effective People. ~Amy Vansant ‏‪@KidFreeLiving‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

Got my wig caught in my braces again. ~Ted Travelstead ‏‪@trumpetcake‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

If I’m ever on life support unplug me,, and then plug me back in again,, and see if that works… ~Gordon McCleary ‏‪@ASouthernYankee‬‬‬‬‬‬

Our son HATES the rectal thermometer. Ugh, teenagers! ~rob delaney ‏‪@robdelaney‬‬‬‬‬

The worst part about being omniscient is that I can never not know what Newt Gingrich looks like naked. ~God ‏‪@TheTweetOfGod‬‬‬‬‬‬‬

In closing, if I can continue to find even more to laugh about in 2013, I think I just may survive! And, here are some pictures to leave you with that just simply made me smile cuz’ they are kinda weird.

 

I usually hate making unrealistic promises I know I can’t keep just because the calendar happens to turn over to January 1^st. I fail to see how predicting my upcoming failures, or “resolutions,” rings in the new year with any renewed optimism.

At this point the chance that I will become a better, more evolved human is about as likely as the whole Rihanna and Chris Brown thing ending well.

To clarify, it’s not that I believe I’m already a better more evolved human and, therefore, already as awesome as it gets. It’s that I’m old and tired and can barely be bothered to pause The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills long enough to get off the couch and go take a dump.

So, here are my predictions for 2013:
*Data is derived from the predictions and outcomes of identical goals for 2012.

I will exercise more. What utter bullshit. I will either join a health club I can’t afford and use it once but pay for a full year because I hate being sold to so will sign whatever you put in front of me to get you to shut the fuck up.

Or, I’ll decide I will run a 10K without even walking regularly to the mailbox, pull a hamstring in the first 10 feet, be laid up for months in bed while eating my boredom and end up on some horrible TLC show called  “Bedridden, Obese and Angry.”

I will scale back on the cursing. Notice how I said “scale back” and not stop? You might as well say “I will no longer use air to breathe”. Believe me, the world is a safer place if I can express myself with profanity.

I will lose 10 lbs. I did not say how many times I would lose 10 lbs. over the year, did I? So, technically, if you add up all the weight I lost this year, I’d be way over that goal. Luckily, we won’t count the number of lbs. I gained as well. I blame it all on the holiday pie and booze I shoveled into my face hole.

I will be more patient. I don’t really know how to measure this one since I am, by nature, one of the least patient people on the planet. So, even when I’m at my best, I am still probably a good 50% more impatient than normal people.

I do tend to be a lot more easy-going when I’m drinking, so let’s just assume I drank more this year and everyone wins.

I will reduce my drinking. Defeated.

So, there you have it. Not a stellar report card.

However, I have come to a conclusion and this is it:  By making a list of how to change myself I miss the most important goal I should be focused on – being true to who I am and loving myself despite…..myself.

My 2013 resolution: I will love, or at least accept myself, warts and all. And, do the same for everyone else.

Happy New Year, other imperfect humans! Keep yourselves weird and we may just come out of all this OK.