Favorite Things

Nothing Says “All American Fashion” Better than…

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Fanny packs.

I have solved your last minute Christmas shopping.

This is the way I remember these highly fashionable, practical devices.
Click for source, which you can’t buy anymore. But don’t worry. THERE ARE MORE ON SALE.

Let’s face it. The convenient tiny waistpack (that makes either your stomach or your lower back look like it’s grown a camel hump) is pretty much an American staple.*

*Have you figured out yet that I know absolutely nothing about fashion?

Now, you may have thought that fanny packs were simply the butt of 90s related jokes. You may have thought that they were a terrible time in clothes-wearing history that we, as proper countrymen, would all agree was better left behind us.

Well, you’re wrong.

People are trying** to bring them back.

**Succeeding. If you can call making fanny packs popular “success.”

Apparently.

Apparently Rhianna is to blame.
Click for source.

And Etsy, home of all things ahead of the fashionable curve, is totally behind this.

RUFFLES!

The ruffles add a lady-like appeal that ruins the once multi-gender fanny pack fun.
Click for source, and to buy your own, which you totally should.

But best of all, there’s a Kickstarter. We all know how I love prowling around Kickstarter.

It's like a hug - for your HIPS

Guys. GUYS. It comes in paisley. This is the wave of the FUTURE! Also, this is not a video. It’s just a picture. The play button is a lie.
But if you click it, you can visit the source, and help fund this project. (DO IT.)

This one is my favorite. In part because, well, it’s next to impossible to make a fanny pack subtle. But this Kickstarter totally succeeds. And also, because there’s totally a BONUS THING TO WEAR.

FOR YOUR WRIST

Meet “The Gnome.” But I call it “The Wristpack.”
Guys, it’s a fanny pack FOR YOUR WRIST.
Click for source and wise investment.

Basically, the lesson here is:

The Internet will never let the 90s die.***

***And we’re all very grateful for that. Right, guys? Right?

Inflation Is Even More Ridiculous Than You Think It Is

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Hey, you know these cookies? These classic, joyous little sugar treats? These festive reminders that the holidays are a celebration of calories?

More delicious pictures

These cookies are a lie. Spritz cookies never come out that vividly red or green. Don’t trust these cookies. They are for example only.
Click for source.

When I was a kid, we used to make them with the coolest cookie-making toy: The Super Shooter.

I miss this

Ours looked exactly like this. Except with more child-sized hand prints in red and green food coloring decorating the outside of the box..

Click for source. Or to buy me one.

It’s a magical cookie gun, guys. Unlike the super lame cookie presses of today, the Super Shooter was electric. You were leashed to the wall by a cord, demanding a certain level of cookie-making coordination that shaped my youth. It happily buzzed when you pulled the trigger, pushing cookie dough neatly* out onto the cookie sheet.

*Or everywhere. When a 7 year old is in charge, it pushes cookie dough EVERYWHERE onto the cookie sheet.**
**And the table. And the floor. And the wall. Ah, youth.***
***It’s possibly my spritz cookies came out as circles with Christmas-tree-shaped dents. Maybe. Shut up. Extra cookie is always delicious.

Because the ‘70s were all about convenience. Apparently. Anyway, this is my most favorite cookie device in the whole world. And while I’m sure it wasn’t free when it was originally sold, I’d like to make you aware of what Amazon thinks it costs:

Seriously?

Ignore everything that looks like a reasonable price. Someone thinks it’s worth $300.

The cost of convenience is going up, guys. I’m really worried.

In other news, the ridiculous-ness and late posting hour of this blog post are brought to you by the fact that I was very busy and important last night****. And in the interim, Russia found my blog.

****Harassing a friend who had to go to the hospital. Same thing, right?

Yay! Communism!

HI RUSSIA!

This has taught me two things:

  1. The media has convinced me that I should always be afraid that Russia is totally going to hack me and steal all my…Internet points? I dunno. I don’t get money through this site. Please don’t steal my Internet points.
  2. Russia is SO BIG.

I’ll be over here drinking coffee until I explode. Happy Tuesday, y’all.

Let’s Talk about Teamwork

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Because it’s time for a feel-good moment on the Internet that doesn’t involve kittens.* We’re taking the web back, people.

*That’s a lie. I WISH this involved kittens. More things should probably involve kittens. Not that I’m a cat lady or anything.

One of my very favorite people in the whole world** recently got stuck in the unfortunate position of having to hunt for a “new” car. “New” is justifiably in quotes, because what it really means is “new to her and hopefully functional, because she’s in grad school due to being brilliant, but that doesn’t yield a lot of money.” So really, my usage of “new” is practically an abbreviation.

**It’s a fierce competition to be my favorite. There’s a whole point system and everything. It’s a pretty corrupt system.

The good news is, she’s a terribly inspiring person. And what she inspired among her friends and husband was this: teamwork. Teamwork to find her a new car.

And in the process, we pretty much solved all our financial problems.

I’d like you to meet the world’s most exciting limo service:

Best. Ad. Ever

Luxury to suite your survival-related or undead needs!***
Click for amazing source.

***Please note. This is courtesy of Craigslist, which as we previously discussed, has everything. But it is really important to note that all this ad says about a zombie limo is: “Great car. Nothings wrong. Come see it and make an offer.” Which, uh, kind of makes me think it’s full of actual zombies.

Shortly to be run by a conglomeration of very responsible people***.

***My friends and I. Go on. Trust us.

It’s going to be the best ride ever. We just have a few questions first:

  1. Why are there no inside photos of this vehicle?
  2. Does the inside of this vehicle smell like hookers, death and meth?
  3. Is this vehicle for the safe transportation of people AVOIDING zombies, or is it for the transportation of zombies from place to place? We have to know our market, people.

Either way, I’m pretty sure this is a lucrative opportunity. And it goes hand in hand with the complementary joys of the obviously necessary catering accomplice:

Craigslist is the greatest thing ever.

It’s zombielicious.
Click for source.

Because what’s the point in transporting people avoiding zombies/zombies who need to travel if you can’t FEED them along the way? I mean, if we’re transporting zombies, we can use this concession stand to lure unsuspecting people close to the limo, where they will thusly become food for the zombies. And if we’re transporting regular, not-rotty people, they will need to be fed.

Shaved ice is very nourishing, I hear.

This is only the beginning though, people. We’ve begun a plot to buy up all the zombie-related vehicles in the nation and do a North American food tour.

I now present to you THE PLAN:

Yes, this did have to be a picture

This is a really great plan, right? Totally financially sound? Ok then. Dibs. This plan is Copyright me, 2013. (That’s how copyrights work, right?)

It’s kind of the best thing ever, right? I mean, we’re ahead of the game embracing the career potential of the impending zombie apocalypse, AND we’ve found more than one vehicle for my friend.

The lesson to be learned here is: Teamwork Can Solve All Your Vehicular and Financial Problems****

****And also by the consolidated efforts of me, Max Power^, and K.B. Toys^^, with the willing participation of our car-shopping heroine, 

^Not his real name
^^Also not his real name

P.S.: Hey guys, guys! Canada and Bahrain and Australia and the UK found my blog! Bahrain! And look how much Canada! LOTS of Canada!

YAY

Like, A LOT of Canada. Hi Canada!

This is the best day ever.

A Tragic Tale of Missed Opportunity

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Remember when I told you I had weekend adventures? Well, I wasn’t lying. I went to a “Collectables and Antiques” show.*

*Hey hey hey, that kind of crass jealousy is uncalled for. I would have invited you if I’d known you wanted to go so bad.

And I stumbled right back into Regretsy territory when I found the single greatest, most flummoxing craft project known to man:

I totally didn't pose them like this.

I totally didn’t pose them like this, guys, but I really believe they’re doing a slow-motion chase scene for Jesus.

I’d like you to meet Buff and Spiff, the Steroid Angels of Christmas.**

**These may not be their actual names.

I found them on a table with a display of their compatriots:

I don't know what the front angel is doing.

Because fit Santas, buff angels, and ripped fiddle players BELONG together.

And I was speechless.*** I marveled at their strangely formed muscles, which were reminiscent of Tommy Wiseau in The Room****. I marveled at just how many of these decorations someone had taken the time to make. I marveled at who would put these in their home during the joyous time of the holidays.

***Ok, not speechless enough that I didn’t pick them up and invent stories about how they defended Christmas through the power of steroids and glue-on wings, but I did that all in my head, so TECHNICALLY I was still speechless.

****DO NOT GOOGLE THIS. Some things cannot be unseen.

And it was only after I’d walked away from the table that I realized that I would totally put them in my home during the joyous time of the holidays. And I would like to give them to all my friends.

So, obviously, I went back the next day.

Only to discover that the frustrated seller (who apparently had not sold a single ware, according to the seller with the table next to her) had decided not to return for the dismal Sunday sales. I was crushed.****

****I still am.

In my time of grief, I did what any rational girl would do. I turned to the Internet.

I’m going to be honest. I fully expected to find these on Etsy. I expected them to be on the front page, singled out for their amazingness. I mean, who wouldn’t want to deck their halls with the bulging pecs of plush angels?

Apparently it’s just me, y’all.

Because Etsy let me down. After hunting through 72 pages** of possible choices for “angel doll” and “Christmas angel,” I had to throw in the towel.

**Because I am super dedicated to giving everyone ripped angels for Christmas. I’m willing to sacrifice for my friends, y’all. Don’t you wish you were on my gift-giving list?

But I did find these precious gems.

1) The Nakedest, Flattest, Most Concerning Cherub

It's soo happy

That trumpet is _really_strategically placed.
Click for source.

In defense of this seller, this is apparently vintage. So, let’s all get concerned about our predecessors, people.

2) The Most Confused Angel Impostor

It looks so sad.

It’s probably so confused because it’s hanging by it’s head.
Click for source!

This angel appears to have been stricken by poverty, and hung up by her head. Someone buy this angel and get her a nice dress. And maybe a cheeseburger, And a bandaid.

3) The…Winkle

This really scares me

I don’t…I just…what….
Click for source?

I really want to say things about this, but I really just have no idea what to say. Other than I really, really hope that’s an elephant trunk.

4) The Gremlin in Disguise

On nom nom nom

Seriously. Don’t let it in the house, don’t get it wet, and don’t let it eat after midnight.
Click for source.

It smiles the same way after it eats your children.

So if you need me, I’ll be in mourning. But at least my Christmas shopping is done.

Today’s Favorite Thing: Rap with Respect

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Like Oprah, I have favorite things. Lots of favorite things. More favorite things than anyone should ever be allowed to have. And because they are my favorite things, I feel that they should also be your favorite things.

And today I share with you my newest thing-that-brings-me-joy:

Respectful Rap.

PERSONALITY

This image and all the joy and happiness it brings me (and you), is courtesy of Respectful Rappers on Tumblr. Click to visit the original.

http://respectfulrappers.tumblr.com/

I feel that this is a moment to pay respect* to the eternal words of Aretha Franklin:

R. E. S. P. E. C. T.  Find out what it means to me.

*HA! See what I did there?

And what it means to me, my good gentlemen and gentlewomen, is “Tumblr has found a new way to suck up all my free time and replace it with giggles.”

Now, I confess: I’m not a fan of rap. I never have been. The closest I get to rap music is singing “My Baby is a Blood”** (by Bobby Joe Ebola and the Chicken MacNuggits) with my best friend, off key and with great enthusiasm. And that’s not even really a rap song. It’s more of a ballad about relationship challenges, incorporating gang colors.***

**Which is apparently called “She Ain’t No Crip”. I’ve been living a lie for like 12 years, people.

***Honestly, I nominate it for a Grammy. And a People’s Choice Award. I’m people. And I’m choosing. Make it happen, TV.

So really, I have very little expertise when it comes to critiquing rap music. R&B is even a bit of a stretch. (Let’s face it. We’ve already discussed my musical preferences.) But somehow, the brilliant people over at Respectful Rappers have managed to take an inaccessible facet of the music industry and turned it into something that brings me joy and happiness.

And that’s why it’s worth being a favorite thing. It has taught me both respect AND rap music. I tip my imaginary hat to you, Respectful Rappers. Tip tip.

I hope it brings you all great joy and happiness too.

In other news, my grocery store (which happens to be Target, because I like to support capitalism) was completely out of bananas on Monday.

Monkeys around the world weep in fear.

Seriously, y’all. This whole thing is supposed to be bananas.

Apparently bananas are a really popular early December food. Or my whole neighborhood is super low on potassium. Or 57 cents is just an insanely good price for bananas.

Anyway, not getting any bananas is my least favorite thing of the week. So there’s that, too.