Me

Posts about me!

More Sweet Poems from the Internet

Posted by

2

The Internet is an amazing world of creativity, facts and possibilities. It’s also a dark pit of online dating sites. We’ve already discussed the fact that Zoosk thwarted my attempts to quit their online matchmaking services, but now I have a confession.

I can’t bring myself to miss out on the amazing entertainment value of the seduction attempts of The Men of Zoosk.

Curly mustaches!

The Men of Zoosk: Making handlebar mustaches look better than ever.

For the second time, I bring you:

Zoosketry
(Better defined as “Zoosk Poetry.” The dulcet words of potential woo-ers in the Land of Zoosk.)

I think UR a QT!
(Are you a real person? Or are you a Dateline spy trying to trick me into dating a 42 year old man for some special report? I’m on to you!)

<Series of numbers that are probably a phone number but I’m going to pretend they aren’t.> Tex mi.
(Oooo….Is this like the DaVinci Code? Will that series of numbers lead me to understand exactly what “Tex mi” means? Or are you a Texan? There are just so many possibilities here.)

If I sound drunk, it’s because you intoxicate me.
(Dammit. I’ve always wanted to be someone’s anti-drug. I guess I’ll have to settle for being a form of booze. Life goal failed.)

Oh so your too cute.
(Oh so grammar is not your thing.)

What’s your favorite type of naked game?
(Ok. Ok. We’re drawing a line right here. Because this is not a thing real people EVER SAY TO STRANGERS outside of a mental institution. Also, my favorite type of naked game is the one where everyone’s clothes are still on so everyone’s naked is still a secret. Keep it in your pants, or I’m calling Dateline. I have a direct line to them now.)

Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because you’re obviously an angel.
(Yes. It did. A lot. It’s not very nice to ask about someone’s traumatic history.)

What does it feel like to be a blonde joke?
(…At last. A man interested in my life-long struggle.)

If I sound drunk, it’s because you’re so intoxicating.
(Guys! GUYS! I got this one TWICE! It MUST be true!)

Nerdy is hot sometimes.
(Oh. Are we playing the “sometimes a fact statement” game? Because stovetops are hot sometimes. And the weather is occasionally inclement.)

Honestly, it’s just amazing that these men are still single.* Fellow single ladies, we have our pick of the litter.
*Proving Darwin’s theory of natural selection reassuringly true. 

In other news, sometimes I indulge in activities that aren’t just on the Internet.

This past weekend I went bowling and ice skating. And, because I am a coordinated lady, I fell during bowling. But not during ice skating.***

Figure skaters would look amazing on hockey skates

My hockey skates bring all the boys to the yard. Errr…the ice rink.

***Ok, so I also fell during ice skating, but when ice skating, I fell on top of someone – so I had help. During bowling, I fell all on my own. 

I would marvel at this, but there’s an obvious explanation. When bowling, I was trying to convince a charming man I was charming, too.**** I went ice skating with friends who already know of my tendency to fall at unexpected times.
****See? Sometimes I interact with real live men. It happens. Don’t look so shocked.

No one to impress = less falling. It’s basic physics.

Only I could find a dinosaur on a date.

As a consolation, I found this tiny orphan dinosaur at the bowling alley. So, you know, there’s that.

So, in summation: Darwin is a genius, and I really like dinosaurs. Happy Monday, everyone.

Life Lesson: It’s Really Hard to Remember Certain Life Lessons

Posted by

7

Life Lesson #417, #1,361, #4, 215, and #7,521: Do not watch scary movies right before bed.*

*Please add one “, you total idiot.” For each subsequent time this life lesson is learned.

In short, I am a total idiot.

When I was a child, I was scared of a ridiculous number of things. Spiders, every insect in the world (including lightening bugs, which is an unfortunate fear for a child living in New Jersey), every single Scary Stories book, Dr. Teeth from The Muppets…They all got under my skin**. This was a problematic condition for a girl who has an older brother and who lived in close proximity to four rowdy (and fun) male cousins.***

**In the context of my childhood nightmares, this is a completely literal statement.
***Who all were definitely not afraid of picking up spiders and using them as projectiles.

Don;t worry. I love Dr. Teeth's bohemian zen now that I am an adult

This is a really terrifying face when you are very small and afraid of being eaten.
Click for Source, which is a super amazing Muppet-focused blog.

I was, however, deeply in love with classic vampires**** and bats. Because, you know, those are healthy obsessions for a child of seven. By the time I was a teenager, I decided that since I clearly was not scared of SOME things that should be scary, I could obviously get over all my fears and be queen of the scary things.*****

****Real vampires never sparkle and totally intend to eat you, but not in a terrifying cannibal way. Cannibalism is a total deal breaker.
*****Why yes, I was goth as a teenager. How did you guess?

I decided I was tougher than tough, and impervious to traditionally scary things. I read horror novels by the bushel******. I daydreamed about how adorable I thought monsters were and how we would totally be friends in real life. I watched every Hellraiser, Alien movie, Friday the 13th, and Halloween movie I could get my hands on.

******Bushels clearly being the most standard unit of measurement for mass quantities of books.

Terrible, terrible survival instincts. GO ALIENS.

It occurs to me that the less coffee I’ve had before randomly drawing stick figures, the weirder my pigtails look.
Also, teenagers have terrible survival instincts.

And promptly relearned a lesson I had learned as a small child: Watching horror movies right before bed leads to horrifying night terrors.

But nevermind that, because suddenly it was time for college. And in college, watching scary movies late at night is a staple of alcohol-fueled idiocy and attempted dates.  Life lesson relearned. Twice.

And now we come to my mid-late 20s.****** Nestled in the soft bosom of adulthood, I am confident in the fact that there are no monsters under my bed. Nothing lives in my closet, waiting to jump out and eat me. There is no serial killer behind the door. My life is remarkably safe.

******Never to be confused with the ACTUAL late 20s, which is 29. Which I am not. Mid-late 20s is totally still young.

So, secure in this knowledge, I settled in to watch The Conjuring late at night, on a work night, by myself, with all the lights off.

I am not so good at great ideas.

Yeah. Nothing could go wrong watching this alone in the dark late at night.

And promptly spent the rest of the night wide awake, certain that invisible-demon-monster-witches had all died in my (built in 2008) apartment complex, and my cat was going to try to kill me if I fell asleep.*******

*******This has pretty much nothing to do with the plot, so don’t worry. No spoilers. You can still watch this alone and in the dark.

Life lesson relearned. Again and again and again.

In other news, this is a real place:

OMG GUYS

My life was incomplete before I knew there were whole rooms dedicated to trampolines.

So, there’s still hope and joy in the world.

I Am Not in Favor of Filled Sugar Products

Posted by

4

When I was a child, Gushers were new. Or, at least they were a very big deal. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. These tiny hexagons of sugar were my first introduction to “sugar objects filled with goo juice,” and it was not a pleasant experience.

Ew ew ew ew

These are Gushers, if somehow you missed the mid-to-late 80s and all of the 90s.
Click for source!

Now, as a sugar-addicted child, one would assume that I would have jumped at the chance to eat anything filled with EXTRA sugar. And I did. After begging my parents profusely*, they humored my commercial-driven need to try these tasty treats.

*Marching behind them in the grocery store chanting “MomDadMomDadMomDad” at full volume. I’m a polite and effective beggar.

Only, they weren’t tasty. The filling was TOO sweet, and also oddly textured. The way it sort of squashed and then leaked fruit-ish flavor all over my mouth was disconcerting. It was a horrifying surprise, like going to hug your doctor and ending up getting a shot**.

On the other hand, I didn't get the measles.

IT’S A TRAP.

**THAT WAS A DIRTY TRICK, DOCTOR KNICKERBOCKER, you mothersneezin’ trickster.

I have hated all goo-filled candies ever since. Whether it’s sweet or sour, fruit flavored or chocolate, I am just not a fan. In fact, if Wilford Brimley REALLY wanted to stop me from getting diabetes***, he’d stop volleying for Liberty Medical to deliver drugs to my door, and just ban all candies that didn’t have some sort of gooshy filling.****

***Sorry. I mean Diabeetus.
****While I am medically aware that this is not how one gets diabetes, and that there are other types of diabetes that people are born with, this does not stop me from propagating the scientifically inaccurate belief that eating sugar directly results in diabetes. Because rumors are fun and never problematic.

But I have learned I am alone in this.

AHHHH

How did these ads not scar all of us for life? I really don’t want to turn into a raspberry. I saw Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory.
Click for source.

All my friends, and apparently the Internet, are nuts for sugar-with-more-sugar-inside. How do I know? Well, the Internet includes directions for this:

More Ew Ew Ew

Seriously. This is a thing someone made. And presumably ate.
Guys. This HAPPENED to someone.
Click for source and instructions. You’re welcome.

This left me speechless. Until my further Googling led me down the rabbit hole. The rabbit hole apparently leads to a place called “Fruitsnackia.” And it is disturbing.

I do this for a living

Because these days, we need to clarify to children that giving fruit snacks names and a homeland doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat them. It’s just advertising.
Click for source.

And IN Fruitsnackia lives Larry.

This has scarred me for LIFE.

Meet Larry. In the introduction animation, he taps his side and then drinks his own delicious gooey insides.
Click for source. I dare you.

I don’t even…I…he…but…that isn’t even ENGLISH. I’m not sure whether “gush” is a threat, a come-on, or a state of being. It’s pretty concerning though. And what’s more concerning is that people keep buying filled candies. No matter how gross or creepy they get, there are other candy makers out there waiting to add options to the market:

Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew

I stole this picture from my friend who enjoys these probably-poisonous snacks. I am sharing it with you out of concern.

This picture unsettles me for two reasons. One, we all know that the only real red licorice is a Red Vine, and two, Twizzlers is expanding the filled-candy market further. I am growing more alone in my stand against inner-candy-goo by the second.

But don’t worry. There’s still hope for future generations. Because the terrifying land of Fruitsnackia yells at your children***** to take a break and go outside and play.

*****And me.

Hurray for health!

I still don’t know what “gush” means in this context.

Because if you’re on a website that brings to mind a cannibalistic acid trip, chances are. you need a breather pretty frequently. Apparently.

It’s 2014 and I’m Already a Day Behind

Posted by

0

But in my defense, everyone knows you’re not supposed to actually DO anything on New Year’s Day. You’re supposed to huddle on your couch in wide-eyed shock that yet another year has officially passed, and the horrifying realization that you rang it in by attempting to drink all the booze you could find.

So, basically what I’m saying is: I celebrated New Years in line with all those who came before me, carrying on traditions designed to destroy my liver.

He even has googley eyes.

This sums up both my expectations for the new year (More dinosaurs, shinier hats), and how amazing my Christmas was this year.
This was a present I received. It is a handcrafted dinosaur serving dish. Because my friends are AMAY-ZING.

And then I slept through a blogging day.*

*Yes, my mother IS proud of me. Why do you ask?

So I’m going to post twice today to make up for it. Tah-Dah. Post one.

We had the most amazing New Year's table. Don't even try to deny it.

We had the most amazing New Year’s table. Don’t even try to deny it.

Alright, Let’s Give This “Evening Post” Thing a Shot

Posted by

0

Long ago in the days of yore, there used to be two newspaper releases in a day – one in the morning and one in the evening.* And while I’m much too far behind to have managed a double-release blog day, I figure the world could probably use an exotic evening post from me.**

*We will not mention the fact that I probably learned this from a movie, and not from history or real research of any kind. But anyway, now it’s on the Internet, so it’s DEFINITELY TRUE.
**I slept until 11 and then went to a diner to eat pancakes until I couldn’t move. Lets pretend I did that so I could try out posting in the evening hours. 

And while we’re trying out this very different time for a blog post, let’s also try out a “heartfelt and moving post about love and family and apples not falling far from the tree.”

Meaning, I am exactly like my parents. I know this. I have just spent more than a week at their house, enjoying quality time***, familial bonding****, and holiday warmth and laughter.***** This has really nailed home the fact that I am EXACTLY what happens if you mix my father’s sarcasm with my mother’s sense of humor.******

***Free food.
****More free food.
*****Along with free food.
******And added a lot of sugar and probably a unicorn.

Oh, you don’t believe me?

My mother and I passed notes all through our diner brunch.

Mostly tiaras.

Point 1: Yes, I do call my mom “Mommy.”
Point 2: Yes, I am a grown woman.
Point 3: You’re welcome for the product placement, Belk and Ulta. I accept monetary rewards and also tiaras.

And wait! There’s MORE! See that little arrow up there? It means we also wrote ALL OVER THE BACK OF THE PAGE.

My mom is more inspired than I am some days

Allow me to explain:
1) I have spent a lot of this vacation playing murdery video games with my Dad.
2) I have also spent a lot of this vacation cuddling my cat, but I think it’s cooler if she can fly. And she probably can. She’s cool like that.
3) I TOLD you I had a present fort.

My father was greatly amused.*******

*******Ignored us completely, which only encouraged our note passing.

So, basically, if anyone was wondering why I am the way I am: Here is your explanation. You are welcome. I’m happy to help solve the mysteries of the Internet.

Also, I refuse to blog like a normal responsible grown up until after the New Year. Because it would interfere with my irresponsible nap time. But tomorrow I’m probably going to gossip about the South. So you should probably not give up on my blog just yet.