Thursday, December 30, 2010

See you next year! (See what I did there?)

My last post of 2010. Huzzah!

This will be the longest running, most popular (11 followers, what WHAT?! Okay so all of my followers are people I know but whatever!) blog I have ever had. I usually start one and update it for a few months and then I am done with it but I have been updating at least twice a week for four full months! I will give myself a pat on the back for that, yes. Let’s see if I can keep this up.

My memory is that of a feeble minded old lady these days so in trying to recall things from past New Years Eves it all comes back fuzzy (wonder why…). This is why I need to start writing everything down. So you will not be getting a New Years Eve Past post today. I sorry.

I do remember that every New Years Day I was forced to eat black-eyed peas which is my least favorite vegetable in the world. What’s the deal with peas on New Years? I could look this up. I won’t but I could. Someone look it up and post it in the comments. Do that. Now.

Anyhoo, everyone have a great NYE whatever you choose to do. And however you spend tomorrow night keep these things in mind:

- Cabs exist for you to call them
- Draft beer will make you feel like shit Saturday
- Putting one foot on the floor while laying in bed to keep the room from spinning doesn’t work
- Puking in a hamper is different than puking in a garbage can
- Wearing heels and bitching about how badly your feet hurt just makes you look stupid for wearing heels in the first place. Bring a change of shoes.
- Duckfacing without humor is not cute.

Consider my knowledge dropped.

I will see (figuratively) all of you assholes in 2011. Peace to the out.  

And, lastly, Harry Potter cupcakes. 2011, Bitches!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Wednesdays have been given new meaning - You're Welcome

So Daniel and I have designated Wednesday to be our book review day. So every Wednesday, there will be (hopefully) two book reviews. I know a lot of my readers (read: 3 people) out there that couldn’t care less about a book review so you’ve been warned. But if you want to use your brain and read books and become a better, more attractive person, maybe you might find a book to read on this here blog.

Ideally we will be reviewing 104 books of varying quality and differing target audiences. Daniel reads a bit smarter than I do so I have no doubt that his picks and reviews will be far more intelligent than my own. But mine will probably contain the word “Fuck” many, many more times so who is the real winner, really?

In honor of Book Review Wednesday (snappier title coming soon, taking suggestions), I have chosen to review a book that does NOT count towards next years Cannonball experience. To give everyone a taste of how I, a partial moron, reviews books. The title of all review blogs will be the number book we are on and then the title of the book (what a concept!). And what better way to kicks this off than with one of my favorite books of all time:

#0 - In Me Own Words, The Autobiography of Bigfoot. Words and Pictures by Graham Roumieu

How did I even find this gem of a book, you ask? Two words: Morgan Beene. I have no clue how she heard about it but she told me that it’s the funniest thing ever and you just have to read it. I trusted her and I bought it on Amazon years ago and I have loved it and loaned it out to anyone that will take it ever since.

I am not sure how good I will be at explaining this book to you. It’s labeled a graphic novel, but it’s not all that graphicy. It’s kind of like an adult children’s book if that helps any. Anyway, it’s genius and hysterical.

It’s about…well it’s the autobiography of Bigfoot. I don’t know how much simpler I can break it down for you. And since it is told in his own words (hence the title) and I have to say that Bigfoot sucks at grammar.

Surprisingly, Bigfoot is pretty cynical: "Me once believe in good. Now, no. World go shit, like Bigfoot screenwriting career."

Also, he doesn’t exactly love living in the bushes: “You think I want live in bushes? ‘Oooh wood so pretty’ they say, ‘Like Walden Pond. Nuts and berry in abundance.’ Bigfoots ass abundance.”

There are all kinds of things that we didn’t know about Bigfoot. Like, he has a glandular problem and that is why he is so big. Also, he hates Chewbacca, they have a longstanding feud. And I bet you didn’t know that Bigfoot has a cat named Craig and he was in a socially-conscious grunge band named The Tinkles.

He has also been in a slew of movies without anyone knowing, mostly appearing as Shadowy Figure in Woods, but he was a production advisor on Harry and the Hendersons.

If you have ten minutes to spare to read this book, give it a whirl. It’s just a whole lot of ridiculous crammed into a few pages. You won’t regret it. And if it doesn’t put at least a smirk on your face, then you aren’t human, you filthy disgusting robot and I don’t care what robots think.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Resolutions: Be Mediocre

Yes, I WILL learn how to make this

Okay, I hesitated in doing a New Year’s resolutions post because, New Year’s resolutions are stupid. I have yet to make one that I have stuck to, I don’t think. I honestly can’t remember one that I have ever made, really. So that tells you how much stock I hold in resolutions.

But I’m suffering from lack of blog ideas today so fuck it, here we go. And these aren’t so much resolutions are they are aspirations:

Get at least one haircut. I went the entirety of 2010 without getting a haircut (with the exception of the trim my sister gave it a few months ago). I need a friggin haircut, I am going to get me one of those.

Make something from this book, this book and this book. I have pattern books all over the place that I have yet to make anything from and plus…

Master the art of Amigurumi. I’ve never made one. I need to attempt that.  I don’t have to be great at it, just attempt it.

I would also like to learn how to knit and sew. I already have a sewing machine (technically its Christy’s sewing machine but she will never use it) and I have everything you need to learn how to knit, I just have yet to figure it out. And I learned how to sew in high school so I don’t think sewing will be that hard. I really want to be the nerd that makes her own clothes, true story. At least I don’t make jewelry! (I kinda want to make jewelry…)

Watch Firefly. I have had it on DVD for years, I have never finished it. Every time I start it, I like it I just don’t finish it for some reason or another so I am going to finish it this time. And why wouldn’t I want to watch a show with both Nathan Fillion and Adam Baldwin? That’s the real question, here.

Cook more. I would also like to learn how to make everything from scratch. I do that a good bit as it is anyway, but like tofu and such. Anything that can be made at home, I want to make it at home.

Continue to breathe in and out.

Walk erect.

There you go. I tried to keep them simple so maybe I can look back next December 28th and be all “Hey, I did most of those, go me!”

Monday, December 27, 2010

Asshole Monday: New Years Eve

What am I doing New Year’s Eve? Oh, you mean Friday night?

Out of the 365 days in a year, I don’t think there is a more overrated one than New Year’s Eve. Am I right?! I would rather celebrate Valentine’s Day than New Year’s Eve, and that is saying something. At least Valentine’s Day has cool candy!*

It gets built up throughout the whole year (admittedly not as bad as Christmas) to be this excitingly awesome night where you ring in the new year (which I am fully on board with) and you have this awesome time and everything is just awesome. Yeah, not so much.

I have yet to have a NYE that lived up the hype. I have had some fun on NYE, don’t get me wrong (I am thinking about writing about a few of the best NYEs that I have had, but I am trying to figure out how to go about that without incriminating people, also, it’s been a hell of a time trying to remember them fully) but none of them have been as awesome as they are supposed to be.

You go buy an outfit, make grandiose plans, attempt to involve certain people all to what??? Go out like you could any other night of the year? It’s just another day, people.

Maybe I am just a lame person (I totally am) but my past few NYEs have been spent doing nothing and I have been fine with it. I don’t understand the draw and I think I am at the point where I am too old to give a fuck.

I currently have no NYE plans and I am perfectly fine with that. I have no issue with ringing in the new year passed out at 10:00 by myself. It would be a fitting end to this year.  My night will probably be spent watching my rocking new TV and  Bluray player from my awesome parents watching people die horrible deaths in high definition. I plan on winning New Years Eve, yes.  

However, New Years Day I do plan on doing cartwheels (like I can do a cartwheel) and doing awesome air kicks (can’t do those either) now that the godforsaken shit-filled year that was 2010 is now gone. If I can just have to make it a few more days without losing my mind or any more gray hairs popping up…

2011 has got to be better, right? Right?

*Look, NECCO Conversation Hearts, you had better get your shit TOGETHER this year. I am not fucking around with you. Last year you put out some nonsense conversation hearts that had actual flavors! NO! How dare you mess with one of my most favorite candies ever by giving them a flavor! The only flavor they should taste like is the color they are. Yellow should taste like Yellow. Orange should taste like Orange, not AN orange just the color orange. And what was really stupid is that you didn’t even offer the original along with your shitty flavored garbage. Smooth move, ex-lax! If you don’t go back to the original recipe, NECCO, I will be forced to make the switch over to Brachs permanently.  You’ve been warned.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Gimme Gimme Gimme

I am just going to be honest with you here, the coolest thing about Christmas is the gifts. I would be lying to the world if I said I didn’t like gifts. I really do. Of course I like the food and candy and family togetherness and all that shit, but mostly I am here for the gifts, I’m shallow.

In my 29 years on this planet, I have received some pretty good gifts. Here are a few gifts that stuck with me that I, a possible hoarder, still have:

Stella Wella
Stella Bean – Yes, I give my dogs middle names because I am awesome. Stella was a Christmas gift about seven years ago. She’s the gift that just keeps on giving. She has been nothing but a wonderful dog ever since.  Anyone that has anything bad to say about Chihuahuas has never met my Stella. She’s amazing.

Nintendo Gameboy – the old school dot-matrix green screen Gameboy. It was when it first came out and I wanted one so badly and I got it for Christmas along with Super Mario World, Kirby’s Dreamland, Jurassic Park and Tetris. I still have it and it still works. If you play it now it really makes you appreciate a simpler time when technology was bulky and slow and not that impressive by today’s standards.

Remington True-to-Light make-up mirror – Yeah, I have no idea how old I was when I received this from dad, but I was more than likely too young to need  make-up much less a lighted magnification mirror in which to put my needless make-up on, but I wanted one and I got it. It still works and I still use it. It also still has Powerpuff Girls stickers on it but that doesn’t tell me anything. Those could have been put on there last year for all I know. It’s got be at least 15 years old now, I am guessing.

Uggs – I finally got a pair of Uggs last year, a good 27 years after they were cool. I was against the entire Ugg fad for a long time but I finally broke down and asked for a pair from mom and I got a really cool gray pair last year. They are SO COZY. I am not a moron though, and I don’t wear mine in the summer. No, they aren’t really for Memphis weather since it doesn’t really get that cold here and they would probably be more reasonable if I lived in, say, Alaska but I don’t care. Uggs are also something I would never buy for myself. They are way too expensive and not something I even need, which makes a great Christmas present.

I feel I’m pretty easy to buy gifts for but that’s not to say I haven’t been bratty a year or two but for the most part I am usually very thankful and appreciative of all gifts. If someone gives you something, you need to be nice about it whether you like it or not. And I have gotten some pretty terrible gifts in my lifetime but I can’t really remember what they even were.

Someone who is not so easy to buy for…my dad. There are few things that dad likes: Halloween, John Denver, Andy Griffith…and I think that is it. Whenever I give him any gift, I try not to stray from any these things. If you do, or if it’s not something he specifically asked for and told you to get, he’s going to be an ass about it. Dad doesn’t want you to get him anything unless it’s something he wants. So every year it’s a challenge to get him something he actually likes and if you do, you WON Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Dad! You big weirdo!
I’ve been winning Christmas a few years in a row and I am pretty proud of that. One year I got him nothing but tombstones. One year I got him a winged demon (pictured above). Last year I made him a skull blanket and one year I gave him a John Denver Christmas ornament that plays Annie’s Song. If he actually smiles and tells you it was a good gift, congratulations!

This year I am giving him exactly what he asked for and the exact same thing I am giving everyone this year…not a damn thing.  

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, etc, etc, my 12 faithful blog readers. Love you guys!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Every Kiss Begins with Kill Me Now

You know, now that I get to thinking about it, I do have an asshole to talk about that should have been discussed on Monday. A big one.

There are few things more annoying to me than commercials. DVR is genius because you never have to watch commercials again. Ever. You can skip over all that garbage. In this house, we don’t have DVR yet so I have been forced to watch everything live which is, in my opinion, hell. 

Out of all the annoying commercials out there, my least favorite has to be: Every kiss begins with Kay.

And now since it’s Christmas and clueless husbands don’t know what to get their wives every commercial break contains at least one of these commercials. And they are all terrible, vomit inducing, horribleness. The worst kind of cheese: sentimental jewelry cheese.

I am not a jewelry wearer. I would rather have electronics or school supplies. I would take a pencil case over a tennis bracelet all day long, I am a low key girl. That’s why I don’t understand why chicks go batshit over jewelry. It’s the most thoughtless gift ever. Give that bitch some diamonds, that’ll shut her up.

The premise of these commercials is pretty simple: He really loves you because he gave you jewelry…Really? Come on, now.

What happened was he doesn’t know you well enough to get you anything personal or special so he went to a jewelry store, shelled out the cash (you totes could have gotten an xbox for that) in exchange for whatever they had on hand, probably had it wrapped at the store, put it under the tree until Christmas morning and then handed it over. Not a thought involved. Bravo, guy. You watched a commercial. Here’s your cookie and your piece of mandatory ass.

I am not saying jewelry can’t be personal, not at all. I am sure it happens all the time. But these commercials aren’t selling personal, special jewelry, they are selling mass-produced franchise jewelry to clueless men disguising it as love and devotion and security.

Yes, security. In one of these commercials, and perhaps my least favorite, it’s raining outside (scary rain!) and it thunders or something (because, you know, thunder can kill you) and the chick gets scared (of course she does) and the guy comes up behind her and tells her not to worry that he is always here and he always will be. And how does he show that? He gives her jewelry, duhs!

I’m pretty sure Kay Jewelers is responsible for 25% of my Christmas hatred this year. Thanks, Kay! Every kiss begins with you’ve ruined my life.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Christmas Card to my big sister

Funny. Every. Time.

Hey sis!

My sister does not read this but I think her friends do.  Her friends think I am both hilarious and crazy which are both true. They also have a hard time believing that we came from the same parents, which is reasonable.  

We have very little in common. My dad used to always say, “If Christy is our daughter, then who is Stacey?” I don’t know, Pops. I just don’t know.

She’s not a reader, my sister. Christy has read about four books in her lifetime. And while she was in school and had to do a book report of any kind, I am pretty sure my mom read all the books for her.

Also, her favorite band is Train. She exercises and runs and shit. She enjoys painting rooms. She’s a republican. She tailgates at high school football games. She loves Christmas music… none of these things say “Stacey.”

Christy is four years older than me which, in my opinion, is the perfect amount apart for two siblings. We only went to the same school for two years, we never liked the same boys or went to the same parties and the only thing we ever really fought about was clothes. And that stopped once dad put a lock on my closet door. Heh heh. Because Christy didn’t just borrow clothes, she altered them to her liking whether you wanted her to or not.

I was the annoying younger sister from time to time, though. She was my older sister and I thought she was cool! I could be remembering this wrong, but she never really seemed bothered by it. She was always protective and supportive despite me never wanting to leave her side until I got old enough to realize she was a complete dork, which now just endears her further to me.

She is a great sister and always has been despite her constant need to tattle on me. Most sisters like to confide in each other and trust each other with everything, yeah, not my sister. My first piercing, she told on me. My first tattoo, she told on me. I voted for Obama, she told on me. She’s a terrible secret keeper, though she has gotten better lately. At least I think she has, time is going to tell on that one…

I give her a lot of shit for being dumb but this is really only because being smart is the only thing I have on her. She has always been smaller, better looking and she has a better personality. Well not so much better as nicer.

However, Christy and I do share a lot of the same qualities:

We are both of the mentality that we are awesome and no one could tell us differently. As I mentioned in the Christmas Card to my parents, we were raised this way. We get it from dad, mom could use a little more self assurance. If you don’t think the most of yourself, how do you expect anyone else to? You know that saying that if you don’t love yourself, how can you love anyone else? Yeah, Christy and I never had that problem.

We love sweets and candy.  When we were old enough to drink legally (I think we were legal…) every Sunday morning (more than likely hungover) we would lay on the couch, watch TBS and eat candy and TCBY. It was pretty much the best. I honestly couldn’t tell you what we watched but we have never really had the same taste in movies…or music…or anything, really. But we both love chocolate covered cherries.

We are both criers (I think I am worse than she is). We are both pretty creative in our own ways. We both have big, though vastly different, personalities. Neither of us has a shred of modesty. We like to make stuff. We love cookies. It’s a bunch of small things, really that add to a lot.

Merry Christmas, sis! Thank you for always being a pretty solid big sister. Thank you for being crazy enough when you were a teenager so whatever I did paled in comparison. And also (I know she was waiting for this) thank you for being so cool in high school that it made me popular by relation…even though I wasn’t really popular. But I was Christy Garrett’s little sister, so thanks for being legendary, ha!   

(Also, thank you for letting me live in your house and eat your food and take your hot water and your laundry detergent and your cable)

Monday, December 20, 2010

Christmas Card to My Poor Parents...

The Garretts and Their Hell Spawn

Hi Mom and Dad!

My mom actually does read this, I think. I sent her the address a few weeks ago with a warning “You may not like what you read.” I warned her, and that is all I can do. My dad doesn’t. He doesn’t have the best grasp of the internet or computers or any sort of technology, so if he actually reads this, I’ll be shocked. Or my mom printed it out for him.

Do I want them to read this here blog? I don’t really care. Their daughter is on the internet cursing like a sailor and spewing hatred and vulgarity so it may not be something that every parent wants to read (at least they aren’t on Facebook!). But there is something you have to understand…

My parents are pretty damn cool.

That is not to say that they have loved everything that I have done in my life. The tattoos. The piercings. The purple hair. They have been less than thrilled with ALL of these things.

Mom would be mad for about five minutes and then sigh and say “You’re going to do whatever you want to do…” Every parent should have this same mentality. Your kids are going to do whatever they want to do and you should just let them do it. When they are old enough to make their own decisions, let them go. If you did your job right, you should have nothing to worry about.

Dad just thought everything I did was funny. He may not have liked it, but he always saw the humor. And to this day I don’t think he knew I had a tongue ring (surprise, Dad!) but that has been gone for damn near a decade, thankfully.  And it’s not like he could be that mad. I am a carbon copy of him, for the most part, how could he be mad?

While my friends parents were showing up at parties to drag their kids out by their ears and take them home, mine trusted me and stayed put (though mom did wait up for way longer than she should have). Maybe they shouldn’t have trusted me as much a few times because teenagers are stupid and lie to their parents from time to time, but they trusted that I was always where I said I was and for the most part, I was. I was a pretty good kid and that is mostly due to being raised by understanding and admittedly cool parents.

I could be honest with both of my parents and they accepted that and let me live my life and I could not be more thankful for this. They have a super weird daughter that seemed to have come from an alien stork from a different universe, but they never tried to change this no matter how much they didn’t agree with it.  

Both my sister and I were raised to have a self-esteem much higher than we rightfully should based on our looks and abilities. All parents should raise their kids this way.  Though I never really did anything with my life or in my life that would make my parents proud of me, I never had a doubt that they were.  Shit, I guess I did graduate college but it’s not like I am doing a whole hell of a lot with that…

Anyhoo, Merry Christmas Mom and Dad! I couldn’t ask for better, cooler or more understanding parents than the two of you. Thank you for everything you have done for me be it, letting me move back in a few times, doing my laundry even though I am an adult, instilling way too much confidence in me even though I continue to be mediocre at best, never judging, never overbearing and never unsupportive. Love you guys!

Greeting Cards: You know how I do!

Alright, as I have mentioned before, I am not doing Christmas this year. At all. I am against all of it. It’s been a shitty year and I am just done with it. I have higher hopes for 2011 and I would like for it to hurry up and get here already. Maybe I am wishing my life away, but I care not. I want 2010 to go away now, kthanksbye.

Also, I am against Christmas because I was unemployed for a year and I am still pretty much broke from that. So no Christmas presents from me which sucks but I love giving gifts. I am the type of girl that cannot wait until Christmas to give someone something.

I also HATE greeting cards. Anyone that knows me knows that they will not receive a greeting card from me, ever. I think they’re insincere and fake and icky. Especially if it is a sentimental card. Bleck! No card company is going to be able to express to whomever you are giving that card to the way you feel or what you want to say this person. Ever.

I understand some people who aren’t as vocal or as open as me, need cards and it may work for them, for me, it doesn’t.

So this year since I am poor and ornery, this Christmas everyone is getting a card that I will post on this here blog. Yes, you heard me correctly. People that I normally get gifts for, get a blog card. You’re welcome. I will indicate as such in the subject line so everyone that has absolutely no want to read what I write to my parents, sister, nephews, etc, that is fine. You can skip reading and go on about your day. I understand your want to avoid this. Play on, player.

Most of you know me as a cynical asshole who hates a lot of different things, but this is actually not me. Well, not me completely. I am actually very thoughtful and giving and considerate when I want to be to the people I care about. So go ahead and ready yourself to see this side of me, if you haven’t seen it before. If not, I am sure I will post something full of hate and vitriol that you can chuckle at in no time.

Peace out bitches, and Happy Fucking Holidays!

Asshole Monday: Only Slightly Annoyed

What's wrong with toddlers being stupid?

No assholes today. I find myself in a good mood with a smile upon my face with nothing assholish to speak of, plus you know it’s Christmas and all that shit so everyone should be in a good mood, I guess. Who knows? I am avoiding Christmas this year.

However next week’s Asshole Monday will be about New Year’s Eve. Yes, holidays can totally be assholes. Anything can be an asshole, really. Because I said so.

But one thing that does annoy me:

Those Your Baby Can Read commercials. The one I hear all the time on the radio is telling ladies that whenever they go to a baby shower, instead of giving the new mother things she needs like diapers, and onesies, and bottles, and ear plugs, they tell them to give “Your Baby Can Read.” Um, no. (I would link to that website, but I refuse)

I am not exactly sure what my reaction would be if I got this as a gift. For one, I think it is kind of on the crazy side to try and teach a baby to read. Like before they can really talk, they are supposed to be able to read??? Does anyone else find this creepy? I find it a little creepy. And it has a hint of supercrazystagemom to it as well. You just know the parents that try and teach their infant to read are slapping some stage make-up, false teeth and a ball gown on that kid as soon as it can walk and parade it in front of judges. So fucked up.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Blank. It's been drawn.

Blogging is just not that easy. Okay, it is easy, actually. It's not like I am producing Nobel Prize worthy posts here. I call it "Garbage" for a reason. But coming up with garbage that someone out there may or may not want to read is tricky but I am attempting to post every day (minus weekends, durr) but some days, the inspiration just doesn't come. Like today. And yesterday. And a few days last week.

I sent out a FB request (if anyone out there doesn't know me personally, pretty sure you all do, go be my Facebook friend, you won't regret it, but you might) for blog ideas and got nothing in return. So does anyone reading this that may or may not hide me on Facebook have any ideas? Anyone, anyone...

In the meantime, Dee Reynolds drinking PBR. You're welcome:

Sweet Dee

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

That doesn’t mean whatever you think it means…

We aren't quite there yet...

My sister has had a long and storied past of saying boneheaded, not quite right things. Like the time when I was in second grade and I was doing homework on what the best invention ever was (the internet, thank you Al Gore) and she told me the best invention ever was when Christopher Columbus discovered electricity. Yes I typed that correctly.

And even if she had been correct on who discovered electricity, it still wasn’t an invention. And Christopher Columbus didn’t actually invent anything nor did he discover anything new.

So last night she had to go to a work meeting and Whitman wanted to go with her. Christy works for the Memphis chapter of MDA and last night was an event for ALS which is Lou Gehrigs Disease which affects older people.  Whitman couldn’t go, obviously, as Christy would be working but he still asked. Ron, jokingly, said “Take him with you, I am sure he would have fun.” And Christy said…

“Ron! This is ALS. There are people there that have been decapitated.”

Ron looked at me and we both kind of stood there like “Uhhhh….” I then explained to Christy that decapitated means that they have no head. And she said “Well, nearly decapitated…”

Again, no. Unless you have Nearly Headless Nick floating around Gryffindor, no one there is nearly headless. Even if you are nearly headless, no one would know because you would probably just be dead. Unless your head is floating around a glass head jar a la Futurama, no one you are going to see at any event is going to be decapitated.  We just don’t have that technology yet.

I am pretty sure she meant “completely incapacitated” but that didn’t make it any less funny.  Or her sound any less retarded. Love you, sis!

In other news, I think I am getting better with my pop culture references!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Asshole Monday: Grody to the Max

I'd rather watch The Human Centipede than watch anyone drink this

These aren’t so much assholes as Really Gross People

There are many, many different kinds of gross people that gross me right on out. And it is not so much the people themselves, but these two super gross things that people do.

#1 Buffet Eaters.

Buffets are icky. I can’t take them and I refuse to eat at them. I won’t even eat potluck dinners unless I know who made what. This makes me a complete bitch/snob and that is fine. I can deal with that.

I went to the casinos a few years ago and was told that I MUST eat at the buffet. It is the best, it’s clean, etc, etc. Um. No.

If you are trying to tell me that the buffet in Tunica, MS is clean, I am sorry, I do not believe you. If you are trying to tell me that the people eating at a buffet at a casino in Mississippi are somehow better than anyone else at your run of the mill Picadilly, no. They are not. You will still see the same 400 lb. dude with three plates stacked up under his double chins heading to a table to shovel food down  his gullet. Just because there happens to be prime rib on one (or two) of those plates, doesn’t make it any easier or more appealing to watch.

If you want to see me turn my nose up at anything, bring me to a buffet. ANY buffet. I will not be a happy camper.

#2 – Cereal milk drinkers.

Picture it: You just took about ten minutes to finish a bowl of Lucky Charms. Dipping your spoon back into the bowl of milk again and again and eating your cereal for breakfast. You fished the last few non-marshmallow bits out of the bowl and you have finished your cereal. There are parts of saliva, flecks of cereal powder and random swirly colors hanging out in your milk.  It’s also been ten minutes so that milk is not the coldest…you pick up your bowl and gulp down what is left of your milk…

Excuse me while I vomit.

There is nothing more disgusting to me than cereal milk. You are drinking semi-warm spit milk. Grody to the max.

Whenever the boys eat cereal, they always drink the leftover milk. I have to close my eyes and plug my ears to distance myself as far away from this as possible. I can’t take it or I will for real start gagging.

What do I do with my cereal milk? I pour it out. Like everyone should be doing. It’s fucking gross. Used cereal milk is like dishwater to me. It is that gross.

In high school, a guy once told me he would drink my bathwater. I was effectively creeped and grossed out.  This is how I feel about the drinking of cereal milk. It should never be done, by anyone.

Stop the madness, people. Stop drinking your own filth.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

They're real. And they're spectacular.

There's a reason this was the signature mktg pose

I was given a gift at lunch today and that was the gift of blog.

I have no issue talking about my boobs since it’s a topic that is brought to my attention on a daily basis. It doesn’t so much bother me as it does baffle me. They’re just boobs. But it is a favorite conversation topic with basically everyone I know.

When I worked at the PI, everyone in the mktg loved to comment on the status of the ladies on a weekly basis. Whatever. Fine. I was blessed with awesome genetics and the body of a curvy woman (and so far, I have received no complaints) so I take most of the awe over my tits as complimentary, really. I do know what Christina Hendricks feels like, though I also know that I pale in comparison to that woman’s hotness.

I may mention them a lot or blog about them a lot but it is nothing compared to what I hear all the time. People are going to bring them up to me, I might as well bring them up myself.

Okay, so I went to Lenny’s (my favorite sub shop in the whole all time ever) in Southaven. It’s the closest one, I think, and I had to go the yarn store anyway…

I walk in and there is a table of five assholes in suits. They are all staring. I am a compulsive starer and I rarely know that I am doing it. This could easily be the case with this table, I think nothing of it. And whatever, it’s lunchtime, I am sure they worked where all the assholes in suits go to work. And for Lenny’s at lunchtime it was very quiet with almost no one else in there which is rare. And as most of you know, most Lenny’s aren’t that large. I walk in, order my Veggie sub with everything on wheat, and I wait for my delicious sandwich.

While I am standing there waiting for the ALWAYS nice sandwich makers to make my sandwich I hear whispering the of word “titties” (you all know how much I LOATHE this word) half a dozen times. Again, thought nothing of it. Men talk about boobs. Ask any girl with big ones and she will confirm.

My sandwich if ready so I take it and begin walk out when I hear, “Watch, they jiggle when she walks…”

Okay, what??? And might I add, really? A table of grown men on their lunch break from their grown jobs are watching and providing color commentary on mammary glands of a random chick? Seriously?

And why is this not the first time this has happened to me?! Anyone remember Cunt Nugget?  Why do complete strangers feel the need to comment on my boobs? Can anyone explain this to me?

And I could understand if they were on display but I am wearing a long sleeved t-shirt for fucksake. I am more than likely known around the office as the “Girl Who Does Not Care What She Looks Like” it takes me ten minutes to get ready every morning and I am out the door. I am wearing a t-shirt and cords. Not sexy. No cleavage. Are men that sad that they take an average looking girl in below average clothing and wait for her to walk across a sub shop so they can see her boobies jiggle? This makes me sad for the male species. But not so sad that I didn’t speak up.

Most women might be embarrassed by what happened and walk away vowing to only wear bulky turtlenecks and hide the girls in shame. I am not that woman.

I stopped, turned on my hell and loudly whispered, “I can hear you, dumbass! Classy!” and gave the entire table a thumbs up and the most sarcastic smile I could muster. Needless to say they weren’t as chatty as Cunt Nugget and they sat there in silence until I left.

Again, I have no issue with anyone talking about boobs or even my boobs. They are prominent, talk away. However, make sure I can’t hear you! It’s annoying and insanely disrespectful and immature as all I don’t know what.

It’s like all men are perpetually fourteen years old and snickering at their mom’s Victoria’s Secret catalog. But I have faith that a 14-year-old would have more sense than say something aloud. Idiots.

Random Dumbassery

Why I need to start spinning my own yarn

Welcome to a new segment: Random Dumbassery.

Basically I have things throughout the day that that I can write about that don’t equal a full blog post. Just little tangents that pop into the ol’ mind grapes from time to time. So from now on, I will keep a running list and post them all together. You are all so, so welcome. No, you can stop thanking me now. Seriously, I am happy to do it.

One more thing about Christmas that I hate: when grown-ass people pose with Santa. It is NOT cute. At all. If you are old enough to know that Santa doesn’t exist and he’s really just a dude in a costume that has more than likely been pissed on by numerous children, it’s time to stop taking pictures with him.  I know you think it is super cute and funny but it is really annoying and dumb to everyone around you. And you just know the four-year-old behind you in line is thinking to himself “Wow, those are some sad adults…”

Microwaves are handy: Due to the Great Prewitt Home Remodel 2010, we have been without a microwave for what feels like forever. You don’t realize how much you actually use a microwave until you don’t have one. Making a frozen vegan burrito in a toaster oven sucks, FYI (yes, I eat frozen burritos, sue me!). I also never realized how much butter we melt on a weekly basis. Every few days there is a stick of butter sitting on the counter. Butter. All day. Usually we would use the microwave to melt butter for our obsessive baking needs but without one, your choices are limited, really.  And the boys have really missed their popcorn.

Cooking = Homey: not as in Homey don’t play that, homey as in it feels like home. We have been in the new house since late August and it really didn’t feel like home until I start cooking in it which hasn’t been the easiest to do since the aforementioned remodel started. I have been venturing out with my vegetarian cooking and it’s worked out well.  I have said it before and I will say it again, I have no fucking clue how picky vegetarians don’t starve and die. Also, fake chicken nuggets are delicious. I know you are all doubting me and fuck you. I would fill everyone in on my vegetarian cooking exploits but you filthy meat eaters don’t care.

Facebook Gripe: For fucksakes hunters, STOP posting your latest kill on your news feed. I have had to hide or delete all of you heartless bastards (great band, the Heartless Bastards) because of it. It is gross and awful and I personally do not give a fuck that you took your unnecessary gun and killed an innocent animal that was going about its daily routine of awesomeness when it was killed for being an animal. I don’t love the “sport” of hunting but I know that its not going anywhere but do I really have to see it? Do you think the world wants to see dead animals? We don’t. Trust me.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Asshole Monday: Christmas Car Decorators

Those are some sweet ass fuzzy dice though...

I am being a huge asshole about Christmas this year. I don’t know why I just don’t want to deal with it. Usually I am fine with Christmas, I have always hated Christmas music and the over decorating but I like Christmas as a whole. This year…not so much. I won’t go into all that.

Call me a Grinch or Scrooge or whatever, I don’t care. I have been called much worse than a fictional character from seasonal entertainment. Sticks and Stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me…probably because you aren’t as witty as I am.

Also, everyone seems to forget that in the end both the Grinch and Scrooge both loved Christmas. They all had huge Christmas woodys by the time the story was over. So, really, they were just in a bad mood for a lot of years probably because people drove their SWHOVs around Whoville with a fucking wreath tied to the grill.

It’s not Christmas that I hate it’s people that I hate, which is not news. To anyone. Ever.   

I can not understand what moves certain people to decorate their cars. I don’t understand the constant need to surround yourself in pine-scented merriment (I do love the smell of a Christmas tree) all the livelong day. And you just know there is a wreath on their cubicle at work. It’s enough to make me want to choke a mother fucker with garland.

Today I was driving into work and I was behind a car with reindeer antlers sticking out of the back windows.  My first thought was, “Is it Christmas already? Holy shit! I did not know with all the decorated street lights and holiday ads and tree stands and Salvation Army Santas and nativity scenes featuring Santa standing over baby Jesus. Thank you, on-top-of-it SUV lady for the reminder.”

My next thought was “Fucking-a, I hate people.”  

Thursday, December 2, 2010

An Open Letter to the Bitches of Bridalplasty:

Hold my bag while I punch someone in the face

Ladies, I know that most if not all of you are teetering on the edge of madness seeing as how you have as much self-esteem as a duck-billed platypus (they just seem like they have really low self-esteem, the platypus), but these are things you need to hear. I’m here to help, not harm. Tough. Love.

First of all, really? You went on television to tell the world you want to fix your butt-face before you get married? Really? Come on, now. I am assuming you are all fame-whores but this is not the way to go about it. Become an internet meme like everyone else.

I am all for you wanting to look your best. I say if there is anything that you can do to yourself to make you feel better or sexy or hot or a tranny hot mess, do it. If plastic surgery is the route you want to take, I say go for it. Whatever makes you happy, man. But you are for real fighting bitches on television so you can have plastic surgery before you get married. You are competing for nose jobs and liposuction. You do know you can get those yourself, right? It’s not something exclusive that you have to go through E! for. True story. True Hollywood story.

Do you ever hear people say, “Bitches are crazy!” yeah, they are talking about you. All of you. You are all the collective bitches they are speaking of. So, thanks for that. You are making us all look bad.

I am sure that you are all worthwhile human beings with original thoughts and feelings and personalities. So my question is why, for the love of all the Petes, why do you feel this is what you need to do to yourself? On television!

I realize that this is only partly your fault. It’s a reality show and regular ass people love to go on them, I can’t fully fault you for that. Mostly I blame E! for all of it. You just went on the show and those manical fucks dreamed up the show to begin with because they knew that bitches have low self-esteem and wow do they love their dream weddings. However, I am sure they put out a call for all engaged crazy bitches and you all came running. Sad, sad day. You didn’t have to say yes, but you did, didn’t you? You knew what you were getting yourselves into and that is why you all sort of disgust me, whether this is your fault or not.

You are all a cum stain on the sheets of feminism and you make me sad to be a woman.

Update: My sources (the 42 different blogs I read) tell me that the show got SHIT ratings, which, AWESOME. Bravo, America. Bravo. You did something wonderful here by ignoring these assholes. I can’t thank you enough. You know, I think we are going to be alright, America. Everything is going to be fine.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

The Most Amazing Story Ever Told

Haters Gonna Hate
I will warn all of you now that this is a kid story. Some of you like kid stories, some of you don’t so I am letting you know now, this one is about a kid. But also let me say this, this story will amaze the shit out of you. It is nothing short of awesome. Trust me. You are going to want to read this:

I know I say a lot that they are smart kids, and they are, but Garrett is a genius. GEN. IUS. I am not saying that because he is my nephew and I adore him, I am saying this because he is the smartest kid on this planet we call Earth. 

Garrett is in kindergarten. He sits at a table with three other people. Those other people happen to be girls. So it is Garrett. Sitting at a table. With three girls.

These three girls, I can’t tell you their names because Garrett won’t tell me, they put his things up for him when he comes into class.  They do his work while they are in class together.  And at the end of the day they go and get his things for him, put them in his bag, and send him on his way. Take a second and let that simmer… 

Yeah.  Smartest kid alive.

His teacher had to move him so he would do his own work. You can laugh at this. My first immediate instinct was to be horrified and but then I quickly dissolved into hysterical laughter.

The lackadaisical feminist in me is horrified that Garrett is using Ms. Emerson’s kindergarten class as his own personal harem. Are they feeding him peeled grapes and fanning him off with palm fronds? What is going on here?

However, the aunt in me is kind of amazed.  He has somehow conned these poor children into doing his work and taking care of all of his stuff.  He has found someone to mother him while he is away from his mother. Work SMARTER not HARDER.

The kid’s a fucking genius. The next time you see him, he deserves a slow clap.

What I am pretty sure happened, and this is ALL assumptions, is that Garrett pretended to not know how to do ANYTHING so being fed up chicks, they just sighed passive aggressively and started doing it for him.

I am pretty sure the teacher has a rule that this table can’t do anything until the entire table puts up their bags and the girls are all looking at Garrett like “Look, dude, just put your shit up already so we can get a cookie, okay? …Why are you just sitting there daydreaming???...FINE GIVE IT TO ME! I will do it!”

He plays dumb so he doesn’t have to do anything ever.  I really don’t think I have been more proud, not of him but of his natural ability to be a complete asshole. That’s so awesome.

Daniel's Cannonball Reading List

Okay, guys. Here is Daniel’s reading list and he is being a dick about it. Shocker! Anyhoo, here you go. We will both be reviewing on this here blog so I figured what the hay, we need his reading list as well. Even though he is being a hipster asshat who makes out with his Kindle. DOOOOOUUUCCHEEEE:

My (Daniel) Cannonball Read list:

1. Robert Bolano - 2666
2. David Bowick - How To Disappear Completely
3. Dan Brown - The Lost Symbol
4. Bill Bryson - At Home
5. William S. Burroughs - Junkie
6. Bruce Campbell - If Chins Could Kill
7. Justin Cronin - The Passage
8. David Cullen - Columbine
9. Phillip K. Dick - The Man In The High Castle
10. Bret Easton Ellis - Imperial Bedrooms
11. Warren Ellis - Crooked Little Vein
12. James Ellroy - American Tabloid
13. Joshua Ferris - The Unnamed
14. Jonathan Safran Foer - Eating Animals
15. Eric Garcia - Repo Men
16. Seth Grahame-Smith - Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
17. Lev Grossman - The Magicians
18. Jonathan L. Howard - Johannes Cabal: The Necromancer
19. Jonathan L. Howard - Johannes Cabal: The Detective
20. A.J. Jacobs - The Year of Living Biblically
21. Stephen King - Full Dark, No Stars
22. Stephen King - UR
23. Stephen King - Duma Key
24. Stieg Larson - The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest
25. Stieg Larson - The Girl Who Played With Fire
26. Stieg Larson - The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
27. Robert R. McCammon - Swan Song
28. Rick Moody - The Four Fingers of Death
29. Christopher Moore - Bite Me: A Love Story
30. Christopher Moore - You Suck: A Love Story
31. Larry Niven - Lucifer's Hammer
32. C.D. Payne - Youth In Revolt
33. Douglas Preston - Impact
34. Keith Richards - Life
35. Mary Roach - Packing For Mars
36. Mary Roch - Bonk
37. David Sedaris - Barrel Fever
38. David Sedaris - Naked
39. Hunter S. Thompson - Hell's Angels
40. Hunter S. Thompson - The Rum Diary
41. John Kennedy Toole - A Confederacy of Dunces
42. Harry Turtledove - Tilting The Balance
43. Harry Turtledove - Upsetting The Balance
44. Irvine Welsh - Trainspotting

That leaves me with 8 blank spots. I'm sure I'll discover some books along the way this year that I can fill in those spots with.

I'd also like to point out that I have all of those books on my Kindle and they didn't cost a dime and you'll notice they're in alphabetical order by author's last name because Kindles kick fucking ass like that. Get on board. Google is opening an eBook site before the end of the year. It's game over for paper.

Cannonball Reading List

Hey you guys! Cannonball Read starts in one month! Woohoo! Are you ready? In case anyone out there was losing sleep at night trying to figure out what I am going to read, I have included a reading list of what I will be reading and reviewing. This is not all of them and this list could easily change according to my mood/ attention span/ alcoholism.

I have read some of these books before but it has been a while. So long, in fact, that my feeble old lady brain has long since forgotten almost everything about them. So now I am going to reread them and do a proper review.

This is not the order they will be read, this is the order I can remember them. These are all books I have at home now (I have a book buying problem). Books can be added or taken away from this list whenever I want to, so suck on that:

  1. The Wild Things – Dave Eggers
  2. The Reader – Bernhard Schlink
  3. The Long Walk – Stephen King
  4. Bag of Bones – Stephen King
  5. Cujo – Stephen King
  6. We Need to Talk About Kevin – Lionel Shriver
  7. The Color Purple – Alice Walker
  8. The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
  9. Paint it Black – Janet Fitch
  10. Lit – Mary Karr
  11. The Corrections – Jonathan Franzen
  12. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – Stieg Larson (no, I have not read this yet)
  13. The Girl who Played with Fire – Stieg Larson
  14. Beginners Greek – James Collins
  15. Publish this Book – Stephen Markley
  16. Invisible Monsters – Chuck Palahniuk
  17. The Men Who Stare at Goats – Jon Ronson
  18. Shutter Island – Dennis Lehane
  19. Patient Zero – Jonathan Maberry
20 - 26. The Dark Tower Series – Stephen King (I have read them all once before but this is really a series that needs to be read again)

27 – 33. Harry Potter – J.K. Rowling (yep, I am reading them all again. I am pretty pumped about it)

And I have 19 yet to be determined. Remember, I am open to suggestions as long as they don’t involve emo vampires or women who “find” themselves by finding a peen.

Feedback? Suggestions? Support? Ridicule?