Tag Archives: Stupid Stuff

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…..

 

Damn You, Mayans!

Damn You, Mayans!

That’s right, laugh you filthy Mayan!

What, with our good friends the Mayans  giving us that heads-up on the end of days and all, I decided I should really hit that bucket list before the rapture!

And, we know the Mayans never get anything wrong, as evidenced by the fact they’ve been around for so long….oh, wait a minute….how did they not see THAT coming?

I highly suspect they are all having a good laugh at the little prediction they left behind for us that they came up with at some Mayan frat party after chewing on some hallucinogenic root.

But, between the Twinkie debacle and the Liz and Dick movie, it does seem a sure thing that we are on the cusp of the rapture.

Some people have decided to flock to some mountain in Serbia, believing they would be safe only there. Evidently, this mountain that I can’t pronounce is called the “Naval of the World”. I suppose that’s better than the “Taint of the World”, which we all know is Trenton.

Others are huddled in their panic rooms or survivalist shelters, waiting to pop their frightened little heads out of their holes like Punxsutawney Phil to see the massive destruction they are now going to have to spend an eternity swiffering up.

The end of days is nigh! We have less than 48 hours to get our end-of-world plan in place. That’s not a whole lot of time so I am thinking I will double up on some stuff to be efficient. See, I am a project manager to the bitter end.

For instance, I will wear an evening gown and diamond tiara while eating bacon for every meal, then wash it all down with Danny DeVito’s weight in Limoncello.

Then I’ll have a bunch of sex with super hot strangers….while wearing a diamond tiara and eating bacon.

See, it’s the simple things in life we must embrace during these terrible times.

So, what’s your plan before you are smited? What would you do if you knew you could get away WITH ANYTHING?? No accountability, people!

Godspeed, and see you on the other side. I’ll be the one smelling of bacon and shame.

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.

The Lohan Paradox – Our Cultural Dust Bowl

The Lohan Paradox – Our Cultural Dust Bowl
Tina Fey and Lindsay Lohan 2012

It’s not looking good Linds. Not. Looking. Good.

This past Sunday I watched The Dust Bowl by Ken Burns on PBS because that’s the kind of high-falutin’ broad I am.

I’ve always been intrigued by this piece of history because it seems to be so absurdly biblical in size and tone. From the sky going black in the middle of the day to the locusts, it smacks of the rapture.

It was a fantastic show and I learned a lot. Especially about the general futility of dusting.

But, after watching all the death, depression, suicide and dirt, I needed a drink and to surf to a show that would balance the sadness and make me feel a bit more lighthearted.

But, instead, I had the exceptional misfortune of coming across Liz and Dick on Lifetime.

Like a lot of you, I’ve been hearing about Lindsay playing Elizabeth Taylor for months and months as the big event that will give La Lohan’s career a second (or third or fourth) chance.

I can only hope that there is an infinite number of second chances in the universe or I will be sorely vexed by the Lohans, Downey Jrs. and Gibsons of the world.

So, figuring that nothing could be as devastating as the Dust Bowl, I hunkered down with my box of Good & Plenty’s and joined the other 3.5 million of you.

Wow. I was so wrong. This was actually much harder to watch than poor farmers losing their homes and land, losing children to lung disease and families starving.

So, in light of this, I will now write an open letter to the director, producer, exec or other brainchild who decided it would be a great idea to crap all over the memory of one of our celebrity legends.

Dear Lifetime Miscreants,

I get it, I really do. There is major bank to be made by casting Lindsay Lohan in just about anything. I know that, as experts in “Television for Women”, you are well aware that those of us with a vagina are none too keen on math.

Instead, in your worldview,  we dedicate ourselves to killing our husbands whilst in a jealous rage, seeking counseling for our alcoholism due to our sexual abuse as children, or we are unjustly deterred in an all-women’s prison all the while looking pretty hot.

But, I gotta figure that, you guys were thinking you’d be raking in some serious cash on the backs of all of the train-wreck watchers.

I have never been a big fan of LiLo as she has repeatedly pooped all over my most beloved childhood memories. Herbie Fully Loaded was a blow, but The Parent Trap put me into the fetal position. I’m sure Hayley Mills is rolling over in her grave.

The Parent Trap

We know, Hayley, it makes no sense to us either!

(I just looked it up and Hayley Mills is very much alive and not actually all that old so I officially apologize to Ms. Mills.)

But, beyond the Disney remakes, Lindsay is simply not a very good actress. She got by on freckled cuteness fine at the beginning but that charm is loooong gone.

With the exception of Mean Girls, which was good ONLY because of Tina Fey’s writing (a stump can be hilarious if Tina writes for it). I sort of want a shot of penicillin just looking at her.

There are dozens of other talented actresses who could have kicked butt in the role of Elizabeth Taylor. But, I understand, talent is not what this was about.

Here, let me get out my pink, bedazzled abacus and give this math thing a run: Given the cost of insuring someone like Lindsay Lohan (easily $400,000 PER DAY to keep her off whatever she’s on) the advertising dollars could still make up for it (probably to the tune of $300,000 for a 30-second spot). But, then factor in that you got only about half the viewers you thought you’d get…

Ouch.

Not that you run the risk of losing your farms or being descended upon by locusts. Doubtful that there will be any really long-term pain from this.

Except, of course, your contribution to our cultural Dust Bowl.

Yeah, thanks for that.

Sincerely,

Long time critic, first time watcher.

 

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Why did the Turkey cross the road?

Why did the Turkey cross the road?

Because it pecked at my ankles and I am going to kick the crap out of it.

May you avoid all unwanted peckers this Thanksgiving.

I leave you with this little bit of justification. (Yes, I know it’s a rooster, not a turkey. Work with me, people!!)

Rooster Takedown

My Election Hangover

My Election Hangover

Election Hangover

I am sure that I am far from alone when I exclaim that I FREAKING HATE ELECTION YEARS.  If I hear one more pundit who thinks I give a shit about what they think I’ll literally vomit.

I have often wondered what kind of person becomes a pundit anyway. Were they particularly annoying and opinionated children with volume control issues?

I want to stab them all in the throat.

I understand that there are times when we can act like a nation of slobbering idiots who can’t dress ourselves without seeing what poor derelict is being made over on What Not To Wear. We can’t take a shit without finding out what Dr. Oz will say about its consistency and fiber content. I’m frankly amazed we have survived the loss of Oprah on network television.

Those times disappoint me. But, times like last night make me happy. Not because of who won but because of how many people spoke out and insisted on being heard.

So, while I hate pundits (on pretty much all sides of the fence) I will now abuse you with some of my observations from our dalliance with democracy. I will, however, attempt to keep my volume at a sane level.

The Undecided Voter

A lot has been said about the Undecided Voter, who I have chosen to call “Terry.”  With candidates as opposite as ours, I have a hard time understanding what “Terry” is undecided about. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that “Terry” is so high that he/she can’t quite follow any of it and, once he/she saw that legalizing marijuana was on any ballot, only voted on that, thereby passing it in several states.

So, “Terry,” I only hope you do better deciding between the bag of Doritos and the carton of Ben and Jerry’s.

The Year is 2012

The GOP is kind of like the Catholic church. It’s a new world and you need to realize the landscape has changed. Alienating women, Hispanics, gays and blacks isn’t going to get you too terribly far. Our culture and the issues around it have changed significantly and it won’t be going back. There’s some good stuff on the Republican side, you just need to spruce it all up to be relevant in our time and appropriate for who your audience is now.

And yes, we are all smoking the marijuana cigarettes now so please speak slowly.

“News” Coverage

Diane Sawyer, I can’t quite tell if you were seriously tanked or you had a stroke. WTF, girlfriend? Sit up straight and steady yourself, woman!

Diane Sawyer

And Diane Sawyer declares tonight’s winner is… chardonnay!
~ One of my fav Tweets from last night

Karl Rove, why are you such a nasty old douchbag? What terrible shit went down in your life to make you so very unlikable? You actually give Republicans and conservatives a bad name that I think many do not deserve.  Acting like a belligerent man-child bully on national television is not the way to influence.

Karl Rove, put on your big boy pants and act like a man, you KNOB!

 Unrealistic Expectations of Mere Mortals

Obama is not a black Jesus and Romney’s magic skivvies will not save the economy or anything else. Why do people insist on making these MORTAL MEN anything other than that? I believe, at their core, both Romney and Obama honestly think they are doing the right thing for the country. We should neither vilify them nor expect them to be saints.

Though he does totally ROCK this look.

I Finally Like Twitter

I have been a Twitter Hater (Twater?) and have only succumbed to it grudgingly because all those social media whores out there said I should, thereby turning me into a social media whore-in-training.

However, last night was by far one of the most entertaining elections I’ve been a part of because of some of the brilliant and hilarious posts. So, to hopefully end on a high note, some highlights:

Either those flags are tiny or everyone in Chicago are giants.

Don’t feel bad for Mitt Romney. He can always go back to being the guy kayaking in any Lipitor commercial.

Why is the Empire State Building lit up in blue? Did a new Smurf movie open tonight?

SHOCKER OF THE NIGHT: Mitt Romney Helps American Man Keep His Job

“You’re still the president of this family, honey.” “Shut up, Ann.”

Wait – Obama’s black?

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

What a sad day for legitimate and illegitimate rapists.

Has Michelle won First Lady yet? ‘Cause if SHE loses…. Awkward.

Why is the same show on EVERY CHANNEL?

The people in the bar I’m at just wildly cheered Obama winning California and Hawaii. They also cheered when I said the sky was blue.

Peeing into a bottle on my couch.

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

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

I Was Plucked By The Original Jersey Girl

I Was Plucked By The Original Jersey Girl

So, with all the woes of the world, let me tell you the issue I am most outraged by and feel there needs more public awareness around.

My eyebrows.

I realize this may seem like a small issue to many of you but we all need a cause and mine is that weird strip of hair over each eye that most of us have.

I have a hate/hate relationship with my eyebrows. I wish it were the style to just shave them off – I’d be first in line for that fashion trend. I know that it would be like not having a belly button though.  We’d all look like something out of Alien Autopsy.

See, even Anne Hathaway looks creepy as hell.

I started out with nice big bushy Gorbachev eyebrows that met enticingly in the middle of my forehead.  Regrettably, this was before the whole bushy Brooke Shields look was totally awesome so I felt like a caveman amongst a sea of thin browed goddesses.

My 6th grade school picture.

As it happened, one summer my mom’s older sister came out to Oregon to visit from New Jersey. Let me just give you a little snapshot of Aunt Del.

Her real name was Ismania De La Parra. Really. But, justifiably hating her name, she went by Del.

She was about 4’10 with breasts that probably measured about the same. And she was what the word flashy was invented for.

Aunt Del had unnaturally pitch black hair with two streaks of gray shooting out of her temples. And, she played it up by having a ultra teased bouffant style that added at least a foot to her 4’10” frame.

She wore entirely too much makeup, tight clothes and high heels. She had a terrible temper, swore like a sailor and did it all with the purest Jersey accent you have ever heard.

I believe she was the Chilean predecessor to Snooki’s guidette.

My father barely tolerated her, my mom sighed and rolled her eyes a lot (which she did a lot just in general), but to me she was an exotic flower that made my heart beat fast.

One weekend while she was visiting we went camping. And, because I used to get car sick on these trips, my parents gave me some motion sickness drug that would knock me out for most of the weekend and wear off just in time to clean the fish they caught while I was comatose.

I still don’t think I ever had motion sickness. I believe this was their version of pharmaceutical babysitting and forced servitude.

At any rate, we piled into the station wagon with Aunt Del’s steamer trunks and headed to the hills. I promptly fell into my usual stupor.

Next thing I really remember was climbing out of a fuzzy drug-induced sleep on a cot in our tent and seeing Aunt Del stooped over her make-up mirror putting on fake eyelashes.

She looked over at me, shook her head and said “We have got to do something about those eyebrows, honey.”

I was still very groggy and confused as she started to go through her tackle box and finally found her tools of choice – a small scissor and a huge tweezer.

She pinned me down and went to work. It was an excrutiating experience that felt like it took hours. There was a lot of brow geography to cover. I sneezed a lot, yelled, squealed and teared up. She was relentless.

When she was done I felt like someone had taken a lawnmower to my forehead. She threw a mirror in front of me and I gasped. I had two barely visible lines over each eye. This was not a subtle change.

This “after” picture also perfectly captures my sense of confusion and dread.

When my parents got back to the campground after fishing, they took one look at me and shrieked. My father was livid with Aunt Del. A loud Irish New Yorker vs. a shrill Chilean Jersey girl. Trust me, it could make your ears bleed.

Everyone got over it eventually. Everyone but me that is. My eyebrows NEVER GREW BACK.

And now, we are back to the full brow look and here I sit, woefully inadequate and never being able to time the brow zeitgeist correctly.

And thus ends my tale of woe as I wait for the day someone discovers a cure for the thin-browed of our world.

Think I’ll hold a telethon.

Confessions Of A Chronic Over-sharer

Confessions Of A Chronic Over-sharer

“Everyone is wise until he speaks.”
~ Said by someone who has self control

Let me explain. As if I have to….

I come from a thick-skinned, sarcastic clan of Irish hooligans with excessive body hair who are masters at saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

I’m the youngest of six kids, raised in a predominantly Irish Catholic family with a dose of Chilean for spice. Though, according to my father, the Irish DNA can kill any other DNA with just a pithy quote from Oscar Wilde.

We lived in the frozen tundra of Sartell, Minnesota in the ‘60s amongst a community of over-breeders. The entire town seemed to be populated by about eight families of fifteen kids each. My parents were barren in comparison.

I went to St. Francis of Xavier Elementary School and thought Richard Nixon was cute. I feel I need to share this shame to illustrate my compulsive need for constant and full disclosure. I also had a mad crush on Glen Campbell and Andy Williams. But that doesn’t feel nearly as shameful as the Nixon thing, hindsight being 20/20 and all. And, to answer your question, yes, I have odd taste in men.

So, you get the picture. As a typical youngest child, I do a lot of stupid stuff. It doesn’t help that I inherited my father’s inability to keep words and actions inside our brains from making awkward public appearances.

Like the time I pantomimed male masturbation in front of my family during a game of Cranium.  As they all looked at me with gaping mouths I knew it was not the most appropriate choice to have made. And yet this didn’t occur to me until I had already simulated self-love in front of my parents.

In case you are wondering, I was acting out Master and Commander and I did win the round.

I have a rich familial history of this sort of behavior. Just to clarify, I don’t mean the public masturbation but the lack of editing oneself. I come from a long line of proud Irish impulsivity. And my father was the clan leader.

I can just imagine the insensitive blurting that occurred during the Potato Famine. There is a good chance we were actually kicked out of Ireland and just told people it was because of our insatiable need for starchy root vegetables.

I was mortified at my wedding when he asked my ultra-athlete sister-in-law if she still menstruated. This is very logical and appropriate wedding conversation for those of us who are afflicted with this disease. However, normal people may find it a bit unsettling. I’m sure it was a fleeting curiosity in his head and when he opened his mouth to take a bite of poached salmon, it simply fell out.

I don’t think my father was trying to insult or shock, I just think he didn’t really give a damn how his comments landed. I suspect he’d always been like this in his life so I won’t attempt to blame it on the insensitivity of the elderly.

Since my mother does not suffer the same affliction, she tended to sit in stunned silence. So, lacking any real counter-balance in my life, I started my career at a young age.

An early example: My first confession.

We had a super groovy macramé and guitar priest named Father Kramer at our church who I thought was the next coming of Bobby Sherman. Being the super cool dude he was, he decided it was a much gentler experience for children to sit in his office rather than the confessional to unload our myriad criminal acts.

As I sat swinging my feet on his big red leather office chair, he asked me if I had any misdeeds I felt I should confess to him and, of course, The Big Guy. It just so happened that I had bitten my sister Julie’s finger the week before. I maintain to this day that if you don’t want to get bit by a shark you don’t shake chum in its face so she should have known much better than to put it within biting distance. I drew blood.

After telling Father K this story, he looked at me solemnly and shook his head.

“You know, Irene, there is never a call for violence. Do you think you made the right choice in this situation?”

Not a second passed before, out of my little mouth tumbled:

“Well, shit Father, no one is perfect.”

My memory goes dark at this point either because I was literally smitten down by the very hand of God or all the drugs I’ve done subsequently have simply erased it. Either way, I do not recall getting punished for saying this so it only fed my belief that I was not in the wrong. This, in turn, helped to mold me into the solid overly honest and awkward adult I am today.

And I’m OK with that because, as we all know, no one is perfect.

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

Finally, Those Dog Names You’ve Been Needing

Finally, Those Dog Names You’ve Been Needing

Dogs are the new kid. I know this because I’m hopelessly hip and I have observed the uptick in dog-friendly restaurants and the lack of kid-friendly bars.

When Jim and I were childless (also known as our salad days) we had an ongoing game of coming up with dog names. We were in the market for one so we could fill the void in our souls and evidently, we also wanted to severely hinder our freedom for some reason. We were, and are, lunatics.

Unlike naming a child, you could come up with some really weird dog names without the fear of them killing you execution style in your sleep when they hit puberty.

We had a notepad with us at all times to be sure we didn’t miss any nuggets of creativity. Our friends were in on it too. It was an epic time.

Unbelievably, the other day I came across the list shoved in the back of a drawer. It was like finding the Dead Sea Scrolls – I believe I heard angels sing as the clouds parted.

So, here is that list of dog names you’ve all been asking for. I’ve thoughtfully categorized for you as well, because I’m a giver.

A tribute to the golden age of television:

  • Bob Barker
  • Mr. Tate
  • Nipsy Russell
  • Wheezy Jefferson
  • Tootie
  • Ted Baxter
  • Rhodamorgenstern
  • Gopher
  • Mata Hari
  • Señor Wences

What if the next coming of Christ was in the form of a dog?

  • Stigmata
  • Hosana
  • JesusHChrist
  • Hey, Zeus!

Names Jim (alone) thought were hilarious:

  • Nostopdigging
  • Heycomehere

And, just random shit we came up with while drunk:

  • M’na M’na
  • Pubes
  • Humpy
  • Bung
  • Yeltsin
  • Squanto
  • Mekamazon

Let me explain this one. Jim always thought that in the awesome song “Brick House” by The Commodores, she was built like a “mekamazon.”I know, it makes absolutely no sense.

But, then, I thought that in the Eurythmics song “Sweet Dreams” the rain was falling on her head like a “mammary.” I also thought that there was a reference to a “little Dutch priest” in The Heart of Rock and Roll by Huey Lewis and the News. So, I guess we are meant for each other.

We choked at the last minute and named our new dog, a Beagle, Lucy. Which is, as everyone knows, the poor man’s Snoopy. I am, to this day, exceptionally disappointed in us.

In fact, if I had a time machine I would not go back and kill Hitler. I’d go back and re-name our first dog. That’s how bad I feel about this.

We are now on our second dog and, frankly, we didn’t do a whole lot better. His name is Calvin. Though, I like to call him Calvinicus Maximus.

All hail Calvinicus Maximus, defender of the Roman Empire!

And now, a blatant attempt to get more of an audience by posting cute pictures of our dog with the lame name. I admit to this shilling willingly and you all should just suck it up and become unnaturally charmed by the site of those puppy eyes.

Where’s the cat, you ask? What cat?

 

You will give me all your money…..you will give me all your money….you will give me all your money….

 

Did I eat the cat poop out of the litter box? Wha? I….er….um….what was the question again?