Tag Archives: Obsession

Yes, Another Annoying Best of 2012 List

Yes, Another Annoying Best of 2012 List

imageI 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.

dancing sheep

Look at me! I’m one sassy ewe, girlfriend!

You do know I'll kill you in your sleep for doing this to me....right after I eat these Cheetos.

You do know I’ll kill you in your sleep….right after I eat these here Cheetos.

I’ve gotta feeling…..that tonight’s gonna be a good night…..

 

Your Criminal “Horror”scope

Your Criminal “Horror”scope

A few years ago I decided to get my horoscope read by a “professional”. And by “professional” I mean a carny in a leather jerkin at a renaissance faire.

Evidently, I was supposed to come into some sort of incredible wealth this year. All I can say is that the tires on my car are bald and one of the cupboard doors in my kitchen fell off and hit me in the head. Maybe the carny was having an off day.

As a retaliation for my not becoming wealthy and just because I really hate renaissance faires, I decided to compile a more useful horoscope or “horror”-scope if you will.

Enjoy! And if you happen to live next door to a Cancer, use your deadbolt tonight!

Seriously.

Aquarius – Jan. 20–Feb. 18
Your Criminal Tendencies: Aquarians are hackers, hustlers and con artists involved mainly in manipulation. They usually commit crimes based on revenge.
In good company: Dick Cheney, Glenn Beck, Jerry Springer, Kim Jong Il

Wow, you are in the company of some world-class assholes. Well done! Maybe it’s because, like the others on your list, you are inflexible and stubborn and don’t care about facts.

Vengeance is yours! so go get it! Today is a good day to smite your retractors because Uranus is in retrograde (I just wanted to say Uranus).

Pisces – Feb. 19–Mar. 20
Your Criminal Tendencies: Pisces are mostly involved in drug-related crimes.
In good company: Osama Bin Laden, John Wayne Gacy, Justin Bieber

As much as I hate to admit it, I tend to hang with the fish a bit. I have a soft spot for lazy, escapist drug addicts. Today do NOT watch any sad movies. You’re on the downside of your constant emotional roller coaster and need to dose up on your antipsychotic meds.

Aries – Mar. 21–Apr. 19
Your Criminal Tendencies: Aries are usually criminals for hire and are heavily armed.
In good company: Adolph Hitler

You are self-centered, egotistical, moody and selfish. You are a huge douche. You are the astrological equivalent to a Real Housewife of Orange County, throwing drinks into the faces of all the other astrological signs. Who the hell raised you? I mean, you are one with Hitler. Enough said.

So, today, just try not to be such a giant pain in everyone’s asses, OK?

Taurus – Apr. 20–May 20
Your Criminal Tendencies: Taurus is quite dangerous and temperamental. They are usually involved in money laundering as they are clever and do most of their crimes in solitude.
In good company: Vladimir Lenin, Saddam Hussein, Mark Zuckerberg

You are some scary, sneaky folks. What do you have going on down in that dark basement? You are the second most dangerous astrological sign on the chart. Couldn’t make the cut for number one? Must be that lazy streak you have. You also are very self-indulgent so today is a very fortuitous day for buying stuff you don’t need like solid gold urinals.

Gemini – May 21–June 21
Your Criminal Tendencies: Geminis get involved in crimes involving fraud as they are con artists and thieves. The Gemini criminal tends to not take things seriously.
In good company: Marquis de Sade, Donald Trump, David Berkowitz (Son of Sam killer), Jeffry Dahmer

You guys are wound way too tight. You’re twitchy, creepy and giggly. You are like Dracula’s lunatic sidekick, Renfield. It’s a banner day to steal someone’s identity so get out there and snatch some old lady’s purse, you spazzy knuckleheads!

Cancer – June 22–July 22
Your Criminal Tendencies: Cancers are the largest majority of criminals and most dangerous among all the zodiac signs. They are violent passion killers who kill multiple times and leave some kind of markings on their victims’ bodies to distinguish themselves. This kind of killer is usually thought to be mentally unstable.
In good company: King Henry VIII, John Dillinger, George W. Bush, Lizzie Borden

So, knowing how over-sensitive and unstable you are, I’m going to say that you should just try to not kill anyone today. You should just really focus on that. Not killing anyone. Maybe just stay home to be sure you don’t kill anyone, OK?

Just to be clear, leave people who are alive alone today.

Leo – July 23–Aug. 22
Your Criminal Tendencies: Leos are usually very dangerous and get involved in criminal activity for the sole reason of getting recognition.
In good company: Benito Mussolini, Grigori Rasputin, Mata Hari, Napoleon Bonaparte
But wait, there’s more: Hulk Hogan, Magic Johnson, Bill Clinton

You are an over-sexed group of unstable, syphilitic pervs. You are vain and crave drama and excitement.

Today is not the day to have casual sex because by mid-day you will have a herpes outbreak. So, give it a few days to clear up and then get back to it, tramp.

Virgo – Aug. 23–Sept. 22
Your Criminal Tendencies: Virgos are burglars and hackers and usually well-armed.
In good company: Ivan the Terrible, Slobodan Milosevic, Michael Jackson

You tend to be a nosy nelly, always interfering in other peoples business. Thus the burgling and hacking I suppose. Today may be a good day to hack into some bank accounts. I happen to know my asshole ex-boyfriend’s firewall is down.

Libra – Sept. 23–Oct. 23
Your Criminal Tendencies: Libras have the largest criminal percentage compared to the rest of the air signs. They are usually armed and very dangerous. Libras are usually corrupt people.
In good company: Lee Harvey Oswald, Jesse Helms, Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

Oddly, Snoop Dog and John Lennon are also Libras which leads me to believe you are the Jeff Spicoli of the zodiac – always high which makes you an unreliable underachiever. Add your naturally corrupt nature and a handgun and you’ve got quite a combo.

Today you will get an unexpected invitation to a social event or party. It might be a good day to hold up a 7-Eleven for cash and snacks.

Scorpio – Oct. 24–Nov. 21
Your Criminal Tendencies: Scorpios are sadistic with hot tempers.
In good company: Charles Manson, Marie Antoinette, Senator Joseph McCarthy

If you are noticing missing pets in the neighborhood, you may want to see if there is a Scorpio around. Lock your cats and dogs up if these freaks are in the vicinity.

You have big control issues and tend to go all apeshit if you feel you don’t have that control.

Let’s not drive today, shall we? A gum-chewing texter is going to cut you off and it will all go downhill from there.

Sagittarius – Nov. 22–Dec. 21
Your Criminal Tendencies: Sagittarius are con artists, robbers and thieves. They do not, in most cases, hurt their victims. Sagittarius has a high population of criminals but they are difficult to capture.
In good company: Joseph Stalin, Ted Bundy

You guys are the lovable near-do-wells of the zodiac chart. You are always up for the sport of criminal activity. But, you are a wily group to be sure and hard to catch.

I say, do whatever the fuck you want today – you’re not going to get caught anyway!

Capricorn – Dec. 22–Jan. 19
Your Criminal Tendencies: Capricorns are usually all-around criminals. Capricorns are mostly involved in organized crime and are rated as being more sadistic than Scorpio.
In good company: Richard Nixon, Idi Amin, Sun Ming Moon, Rush Limbaugh, Benedict Arnold

Nice! You’ve beat out Scorpio in the sadistic category! Good for you!

You are a criminal generalist.  You are conceited, distrusting control freaks. You live for a good conspiracy theory. If your sign had a currency, Rush Limbaugh’s face would be on it.

Today is a great day to start a new project. Like heading to a remote cabin in North Idaho to build that bomb you’ve been putting off.

Menorah Shmenorah, Bring Me My Gifts!

Menorah Shmenorah, Bring Me My Gifts!

Well, it’s that magical time of year again when we celebrate the lighting of the menorah so that baby Jesus could see the three wise men air their grievances and perform feats of strength.

Or something like that.

More importantly, it’s when you get to list out all the things you want without looking like a selfish, small-minded bitch. Yay!

I have my standard items that I tend to repeat each year but to no avail. Clearly Santa or the Maccabees or Shiva or whoever the hell should be bringing me shit is sitting around on their fat asses.

See, not unlike my approach to religion, I will follow any tradition to cover all bases on whomever it is who will actually give me presents. I am the whore of holidays.

It’s not like I want anything that outrageous either. Just the regular stuff like:

Balanced hormones.

Paul Rudd.

Awesome ‘stach, Broham.

A margarita party with Amy Poehler, Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Tina Fey, Maya Rudolph and Leslie Mann where they all have to fight each other to be chosen as my best friend.

A leather jacket.

A pet meerkat. No, a whole family of pet meerkats. Who can talk. And are gay and sassy. And can sing but not in an annoying way like The Chipmunks.

Are you kidding me???? Freaking AWESOME!

If all you Santa-like deities are really too lame to supply me with this totally rational list of wants and needs, then I will make due with only one item.

And that item is a butler.

I’ll admit, I am after a pretty hybrid kind of servant here. But, if you can’t customize, what the hell good are you.

I want the intelligent, snarky, grandfatherly wisdom of John Gielgud as Hobson in Arthur.

I find you repugnant and yet I serve you.

And, he’s had LOADS of experience dealing with super drunk people so a big plus for him…and me.

Mix him with the gay drama and fashion sense of Hank Azaria as Agador Spartacus from The Birdcage.

The mix of taffeta and corduroy upsets me.

And,  he shall be referred to as Hobacus and we will live happily ever after.

If my butler request is really too much for you to handle, I’ll settle for Paul Rudd and the meerkats. See, I’m not unreasonable.

As you ponder your own Hanukkah, Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanza or Festivus list, I leave you with this vision of MY holiday deity for your viewing pleasure.

Cornelius X. Spacklestein:
The Non-denominational Holiday Meerkat

 

Crazy Chicken People

Crazy Chicken People

WTF??

You’d never believe this but I have a couple of minor phobias. I know I have just shaken your world with that news flash.

So, let’s start with birds, shall we?

I actually like to watch birds as they soar through the sky and perch in trees. They are lovely to look at and listen to with their melodic chirping.

But, if you get one of those fuckers on the ground and pecking near my ankles, I will go all Tarantino-style ape shit on them.

I have this terrible phobia of birds on the ground. It skeeves me out to no end. I’m only slightly more comfortable if they are not on terra firma. But, still not a fan of flapping wings around my head either.

This tends to be a problem because so many of my friends and enemies (many of who will be commenting on this blog I have no doubt) are buying into this foul (do NOT excuse that pun) craze of becoming “urban farmers” or, as I call them, Crazy Chicken People.

These are people who don’t quite have the cojones to just go live on a farm but clearly can’t be bothered to drive to the goddamn grocery store to feed their insatiable need for huevos.

They start these mini petting zoos in the back yards of their suburban tract homes and get all superior because they are “eating sustainably”. I thought that was the whole purpose of eating anyway. To sustain. Clearly I’m missing something.

Listen, I don’t have anything against chickens.

Ha!!! Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t know why I even said that. I freakin’ hate chickens. I’ll eat them, no problem. Happily, in fact, since that will mean one less avian terrorist in the world.

I’ve had a checkered past with non-flying birds. I believe I was allowed to watch The Birds at an entirely too young age. The scene when Suzanne Pleshette and Tippi Hedren are walking the kids through the school yard through a sea of stinking crows and other feathered miscreants clearly was the beginning of the end of my relationship with these creatures.

You’d better hope they’re only here to crap on your car.

There used to be an evil wild turkey that lived outside my building at Microsoft. The ugly fuck hung out like a turkey version of Travis Bickle.  All lunatic attitude just waiting for some trouble.

It would mean a mad run from my car to the door to avoid being attacked. Literally. I mean it. It would peck your eyes out just as soon as smell your fear.

I had a bag of rocks I kept in my car and would pelt it with them as I made my escape.

(By the way, it is virtually impossible to look even remotely cool while blindly running in terror from a squawking bird as you throw rocks at it. Just in case you thought you might want to do that to improve your cool factor. See, I am here to mentor you.)

You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? Then who the hell else are you talking… you talking to me? Well I’m the only one here. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?

I always thought it would be a wonderfully liberating gesture to throw an actual bottle of Wild Turkey at the asshole but couldn’t quite stomach the waste of it.

Take that lethal piece of ironic justice, you big bully!!

So there you have it. I think you all know now how I feel about this. But, please do let me know if I’ve left anything unclear here.

I leave you with these words to ponder, spoken by an advanced non-avian human.

When birds burp, it must taste like bugs. ~ Bill Watterson

Please Stop Annoying Me!

Please Stop Annoying Me!

Here’s another list of crap that just hacks me off. Clearly, I don’t get out all that much. And, I probably should just take a Pamprin and call it a day.

(I apologize in advance if any of you loyal readers do this stuff but I suspect, if you do, you do it ironically.)

To pedestrians who take their time walking in front of your car in a parking lot:

Is this your sad little attempt at power? Like even though you know my big metal machine can squash you like a bug, you assume I won’t actually hit the gas and do it. Are you double-dog daring me?  Cuz’ you don’t want to do that….

To people with vanity plates:

I heart Salad.  (I actually saw this one, I swear.) Really?  You “heart” salad? And you think I give a shit that you do? Do you just want me to know you get all the roughage you need in your diet? Why would anyone spend extra money on such an inane license plate? I bet you have a grey ponytail. Don’t trip on your Birkenstocks on your way into your Iyengar yoga class, you tool.

Just as bad as this is the wiener (yes, I said wiener) who gets a vanity plate that makes no goddamned sense to anyone else. I do not need one more thing that confuses me in the world and fuck you for making me sit and stare at your inside joke at a stop sign.

To people with the cartoonish family stickers on their minivans:

It’s all I can do to not draw a big penis on your husband and boobs on you. That would be a family I’d party with.

Oh, and as an aside, I don’t give a crap if your kid is an honor student. Either they got someone else’s DNA or they cheated.

To the people who decorate their car for holidays:

What. The. Fuck?

To the spammers on blogs (or “Spaggers” as I call them):

I believe there is a Blog Spam Factory in China for this (ironically it’s probably right next to the Apple Factory). But, for Christ’s sake, learn English and/or even TRY to know the type of blog you are throwing your shit on. I feel the need to respond to just a few here:

From Peliculas Torrent:
“You recognize therefore significantly relating to this subject, produced me for my part believe it from a lot of numerous angles. It’s one thing to accomplish with Girl gaga! Your personal stuff’s excellent. All the time maintain it up!”

Hello Peliculas! Is Girl gaga our new pet name? So cute! And, believe me, dear friend, I do intend to all the time maintain it up. Thanks for the tip!

XOXOXO
Irene

From Diablo 3 gold grind:
“diablo 3 gold get diablo 3 gold here”

Diablo, really, put the roach down and think it through.

Yours,
Irene

From Pinterest Friending:
“Hello my family member! I want to say that this article is awesome, nice written and include almost all significant infos. I’d like to see more posts like this.”

Mr. Friending, I am on to you….by pretending to be a family member, you are hoping you will partake in the extreme wealth and title that will be doled out upon my demise. Well, my good man, I will demand a DNA test, so be warned!

Litigiously yours,
Irene Barnett, Esq.

From Ajuricaba:
“grandmapornwith young guys porn. This post shows the information which is close to standard.”

Ajuricaba, either you are a young man with some exceptionally deep-seeded issues with granny or you are granny with some exceptionally deep-seeded issues with your libido. Either way, I want to have drinks with both of you!

Thank you for allowing me to vent my displeasure. You are all my emotional equivalent of a high colonic.

Or, as my good friend livecam flatrate says: “I loved as much as you’ll receive performed right here.”

Well said, flatrate, well said.

 

If Lazy Were An Olympic Sport – My Time With Elite Runners

If Lazy Were An Olympic Sport – My Time With Elite Runners

The other day Jim happened to mention to me in passing that he had signed us up to crew for his sister for a 100-mile ultra-marathon.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yep. It’ll be fun!”

“Fun? Really?”

“Yes. Fun. We’ll hike into remote areas of the Sierra Mountains and bring her stuff she needs.”

“Stuff like a ride in a car to whatever her destination is? She knows there are cars, right?”

Then he just rolled his eyes at me and mumbled as he left the room.

Why would someone run 100 miles (yes, I said MILES, not pansy-ass KILOMETERS) in the wilderness unless you were being chased by an axe murderer?

Or you are part of the Donner Party….who were probably too weak to actually run the 100 miles. Unless one of the fatter ones was trying to get away.

I tried to get into the mindset of someone who would do this for the challenge and the fun of it. This is not an easy task for one such as me. I don’t push my endurance, I lay on a soft bed of Egyptian cotton with it.

These are the elite lunatics who do shit like climb Mt. Everest, helicopter ski and cliff dive. They, like James Bond, have a taste for danger.

By stark contrast, I’ll take my rape whistle with me to take the garbage out. And I live in a very nice neighborhood. I do not flirt with fear and danger.

I blow my rape whistle at it.

Jim’s not a ton tougher than I am. He once ran, panicked, in our front door and double locked it because he saw a raccoon in our front yard. He swears it charged him. But, since raccoons do not have opposable thumbs, I wasn’t sure what the purpose of the double lock was.

We are simply a cautious people.

But, I gamely went along, cuz’ no one is going to call me a pussy, however accurate it might be. Plus Jim double-dog-dared me and no one walks away from THAT!

At the orientation meeting with all the runners I found myself in a sea of the sinewy. I know I have more body fat in my left butt cheek than all of them combined. A few looked kind of like Dobby the house elf in really good gear.

Give me my race bib, bitch.

These are a steely-eyed group with laser-sharp focus. Like me at the Nordstrom Half-Yearly Sale. So, I totally get them.

As is my way, I was much more concerned about my performance in this run than I was about our runner. I considered this the Olympics of project management.

Jim and I were ready. We had our Ziploc baggies (a staple for any and all project management work) packed and marked appropriately. We were like a SWAT team of efficiency.

However, the weather sucked ass. Usually, this is a very hot run so I don’t think anyone was really prepared for the freezing temps and driving rain that hit us.

You may think that we would not complain about being cold and wet as we stood waiting at checkpoints but you’d be so wrong. Yes, you could say we had it pretty easy in comparison to the runners, and I could punch you in the head with my frozen hand. But none of this would deter us from bitching about it anyway!

Because, after all, this was all about us.

But, as the day went on we found ourselves talking to other race crews, watching runners come through checkpoints, and really getting into the spirit of camaraderie that this sport fosters.

After all, every one of these deranged individuals had family and friends cheering them on and I found myself cheering for all of them as well.

It’s kind of like the Special Olympics for super fit nutjobs.

While I am well aware that this is a race and someone has to win, it did seem like no one really loses. If you have the gigantic balls to even sign up for this thing, you’ve gone beyond the average out of the gate.

I, on the other hand, do not possess balls of a gigantic or any other nature either literally or figuratively.

But, in the sport of relaxation and self-indulgence, I am the ultra-marathon equivalent.

Can someone cheer for me now?

50 Shades of WTF (or, The Use of a Thesaurus While Masturbating in Public)

50 Shades of WTF (or, The Use of a Thesaurus While Masturbating in Public)

(I was told that the use of sexy words in a title would get more hits. Evidently, lots of people search on the word “thesaurus.” Who knew?)

Listen, I get it. No one is having enough sex. Especially no one I know. I’m sure George Clooney gets laid constantly. It must get boring for him. But I’m no George Clooney.  I suspect Betty White gets more action than I do. I suspect Betty White gets more tail than George Clooney does.

So, given the state of our sexless existence, I felt compelled to dip my toe into the mommy porn cesspit and read 50 Shades of Grey. What a fucking weird book this is. Oh, you could say it’s weird because of the numerous references to anal plugs and spanking. But I mean weird because its level of suckiness can’t possibly match up to its popularity….or the obscene amount of coin the author is raking in.

I have a laundry list of rants to go with this book that could fill dozens of blogs, so I will focus on my top two issues today.

Issue Number 1: The enervating, encumbered, oppressive and exaggerated used of the thesaurus by the writer.

Who the hell talks like this? Especially whilst having a butt plug thrust into a poop hole? “Why, Mr. Grey, what a hedonistic endeavor you are embarking on.”  SHUT UP!

The use of inappropriate SAT-level vocabulary is more disturbing than the handcuffs and nipple clamps in this piece of shit.

I dare you to use “thesaurus” words in a normal sentence in daily life without looking like a complete asshole.

For your consideration:

“Dude, that wave was epic. I will never expunge it from my memory!” See, total asshole.  He will not be invited to the clambake later.

“I can’t wait to dig into this steak with my cutlery.” It’s a knife, douchebag!

“I smoked so much weed this weekend, I was afraid I would somnambulate.” Shut up or I will stab you in the head.

“That inconsiderate misanthrope absconded with my parking space.”  I hate you and I don’t know what you just said, you fucking tool.

I think “Thesaurus” is now my safe word.

Issue Number 2: Don’t read this book in front of people!! You are freaking them out.

For the love of God, if you have the physical book, stick a brown paper bag around it or something. We all think you are either a horny old lady or have terrible sense in your choice of reading material. Both can’t be good for you. Please, you live in a shame-based society. Act accordingly.

And this rule doesn’t only apply to public places like buses and park benches. Do you think your 20-year-old son wants to know his mother (or aunt or gay uncle) is a horny freak show? That could do some serious damage and take years for the visuals to be “expunged” from his memory.

I believe we only fly our freak flag at full mast within the confines of our S&M rooms…or in blogs where consenting adults gather willingly.

What I’m most intrigued about is the writer. Who the hell is this woman and what kind of private life does she have? No offense, E.L. James (not her real name….I wouldn’t use my real name either) but you just don’t look the type. You look like every woman in sweats in line at Trader Joe’s or picking their kindergartener up.

So, you have now made me look twice at everyone I know and have compromised my ability to compartmentalize them into tidy boxes. For all I know, that woman in front of me at the coffee shop who looks like she has not showered in days and has stains on her shirt has a vibrator up her lady garden RIGHT NOW!

She does seem suspiciously chipper about her venti frappuccino….

 

True Blood – My Unhealthy Obsession with the Undead

True Blood – My Unhealthy Obsession with the Undead

So, I got fantastic news this morning but it was followed by a disturbing realization.

The fantastic news came in the form of a very personal mail from iTunes letting me know that Season 4 of True Blood was now available for download.

My knees went weak and I started to perspire as I’ve been waiting a year for this day to come. I have sorely missed Sookie and her unexplainable pull on a town full of hot vampires, werewolves and shape-shifters.

This, of course, is only the beginning of the suspension of disbelief as it turns out it’s her “fairy blood” that is the big draw. That and she’s a bit freaky in the bedroom (or on the ceiling or in a graveyard).

You can keep your lame-ass grandma porn with 50 Shades of Gray and give me some supernatural sex where you run the risk of becoming undead.

I may be wrong, but I don’t believe it’s possible to have an awkward sexual moment with a vampire. Except maybe for the smell. Seems like there’s got to be some odor issues with being dead and living underground during the day. Nothing a few hundred scented candles and a heavy dose of Febreze can’t fix especially if you are a ghoul who looks like Alexander Skarsgard. Hang one of those little tree car deodorizers on it and call it good!

The reality of this is, however, that all these blood-suckers would look more like Willem Defoe than Alexander Skarsgard. Not unlike the dream of most men that lesbians all look like Selma Hayak when in reality they are a closer match to Chaz Bono.

(I realize I’m talking about the reality of vampires – the absurdity of this is not lost on me.)

Which brings me to my disturbing realization – I have some weird thing for vampires. Allow me to dip my toe in the freaky pool for a moment here.

I know there is a whole sub-culture of Goth teenagers who are super into this stuff but I do not fall into this category at all. I would never have figured myself for a real vampire lover. But, I now must question this and potentially everything I thought I knew about myself.

Clearly, Dark Shadows had a much more lasting effect on my psyche than I would like to acknowledge. It molded me in ways I don’t know nor am prepared to dive into further. Plus, I’m not sure my health benefits cover this level of psycho-therapy. I need to read that Obama-care thing….

So, in the meantime, I intend to fully embrace and give in to my no-longer-secret obsession and hope for the day vampires become real and I get me some fairy blood.

And, that is a sentence I never would have thought I would write….

An Open Letter To….

An Open Letter To….

Wherein I respond to some of our weakest in the herd.

To the people who are in such a freakin’ hurry to get off the plane:
I understand entirely the need to get the fuck off the coffin-like cylinder you’ve been sitting in for hours. I am close to screaming myself. But, if we lose the concept of the zipper, we lose our grip on civilization.

To the people who are overly concerned about the use of the word “literally”:
I literally don’t understand how you can get your skivvies in a knot over this and not lose your shit when people say irregardless. Or, pronounce the “t” in often. You are NOT British. They get away with all sorts of shit because they sound cute. I mean that. Literally.

To the people who text in movies:
I can’t imagine anyone is really that interested in what your dumb ass has to say right now that can’t wait until the credits role. You suck and so do all your friends.

To the people who pick their noses in cars:
We can see you.

To the brainiacs who ask if my twins are identical:
I appreciate your interest in my kids and your delight when you find out they are twins  as we make our way through airports, in grocery stores and restaurants. I’m sure it’s well-meaning. But, I beg of you, look up the word “identical” in a trusted dictionary. One is blond and the other is brunette. They are different sizes. These guys don’t even look related to each other.

Go, look up the word…now… I’ll wait…

To people who cross six lanes to make their exit:
Believe me, no one will care if you are late. They are starting without you.

To people who take up two parking spaces because they think their car is so precious:
How do you not see that you are inviting a good keying when you do this? Nothing screams “please key the shit out of my fantastically expensive car” like being a douchebag who takes more than his allotted space. And, there is not a luxury car in existence that will actually make your small penis bigger. Trust me on this. To my knowledge (and I Googled this) they have not found a safe, medical way to link these two things.

On the flip side, a Prius does NOT give you a vagina. However, a Volkswagen Beetle evidently does.

OK, good luck with all that.
Sincerely,
The rest of us

And On the Third Day – A Follow Up On Our Beloved Cable

And On the Third Day – A Follow Up On Our Beloved Cable

…and it was buried, and that it hath risen on the third day….

It’s a Cable-mas miracle! Despite all our efforts at simplifying our lives, some angel from Cox Communications called and took our entire bill down by half if we came back.

In the interest of full disclosure and defense of my innocence in this plot, I passed this information along to Jim. I put my most appealing, saucer-eyed look of longing on my face and he went for it. Chump!!!

I readily admit that I am a very weak person. I’m pretty sure that’s never been in question. I have no will power. I have nil power if you will.

Another act of austerity I recently embarked on was a good cleaning out of my closet. What do I need with three black cocktail dresses? Ask me the last time I went to a cocktail party. Hell, ask me the last time I took a shower in the morning or wore a shirt without coffee stains down the front while you’re at it.

I dragged two garbage bags full of clothes out to the garage to donate. The result is that we never got to the thrift store to drop them off so I slowly started to pick stuff out again. Basically, I dress in the garage now. One more step down the slippery slope of domestic ennui.

Soon I’ll be dumpster diving for dinner.

So the first couple of steps toward the Summer of Austerity had some cramping. This doesn’t mean other things aren’t on the chopping block.

Next up is the gardener. Yes, we had a gardener. DON’T JUDGE US!

Sorry Lino, we had a good run. No, don’t say a word, just walk away. I will remember our time together and think of you fondly.