A Tragic Tale of Missed Opportunity

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.

America Is Teetering on the Verge of Civil Destruction

And it’s all going to end because of clothes.*

*Hyperbole? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Ok, folks. I’m heading back into uncharted territory. Today we’re talking about fashion. No, I’m not talking about what’s walking down the runways at Fashion Week, or what Victoria’s Secret models are strutting around in. (They’re only walking like that because they’re trying to keep warm, people.)

I’m talking about what’s catwalking across the Internet on Kickstarter.

I’d like you to meet the “Hoodsie.”**

Now available in sexy gray.

Animal hat and random confetti probably included. Every Hoodsie is party-ready.

Source

**In fairness, I bet these would totally keep those Victoria’s Secret models warm.

First, the overall was invented. This was not the fault of America. These were pretty rampant across industrial countries – a practical garment to keep man and lady factory workers from finding each other attractive protect workers from dangerous materials.

Then came PajamaJeans***: “Pajamas you live in. Jeans you sleep in.™”

Perfect for the People of Walmart!

I’m just curious: WHICH designer are we talking about here?

Source

***I actually thought this was an SNL skit when I saw the ad. Truly.

You know. For the American who refuses to ever, ever get undressed. They’re for the lady-equivalent of Tobias Funke’s cutoffs.

And then there’s the onsie.

This isn’t a modern invention. This is old-school children’s pajamas. I confess. A few years back, I was desperate for footed jammies. A warm body-sock to flounce around in? Why yes please.

But at no moment did I ever think my onsie pajamas were sexy. Or anything other than pajamas. Specifically, my onsie pajamas were used for the following reasons:

  1. Pretending I was a superhero;
  2. Boyfriend deterrent, for when I was mad at the then-boyfriend;
  3. A cost-effective heating solution;
  4. A way to avoid getting dressed between “bed” and “making bacon.”

They are, in fact, so blatantly unflattering that I can only show you a picture of the sock-part of my footed pajamas.

Because what grown woman does not long for monkeys on her feet? Answer me that, dear reader.

Because what grown woman does not long for monkeys on her feet? Answer me that, dear reader.

But the makers of the Hoodsie disagree with this generally accepted fact. You know how I know this?

I don't even have words

When I put on my onsie pjs, I instantly think “Man. These would look great in the shallow area of the pool.”

Source

That man is really showing off the versatility and allure of what is basically a person-glove. This is a redefining moment for the onsie, y’all. They even confess it in the picture. It’s “the onsie for ‘adults’ “. I did not write that, guys. It’s what’s actually on the picture.**** The inventors of the Hoodsie are convinced you will wear this anywhere and everywhere.

****I also didn’t write “Shallow Area,” but I really think that’s what sells it for me.

And you know what? I totally see college campuses overrun with these:

I'll take 10.

It’s the new backwards frayed visor and popped collar

Source

Which basically means we’re all done with pants, people. Pants are over. It’s all downhill from here. Before you know it, we’re all going to be wearing shiny body socks, like the people in Wall-e. And that’s basically the end of the civilized world as we know it. First, it’s the decline of pants. Next, it’s replacing all food with nutrient goo and robots taking over the world.

It’s all over, people. The onsie has won.

Credit Where Credit Is Due: The source material for today’s post was introduced to me by the infamous Mr. L.

More Credit Where Credit Is Due: The Hoodsie is a Kickstarter Project, so it’s the brainchild of some people trying to turn their dream into reality. And, even though it’s clearly a sign that the civilized world is in decline, and we’re all going to start thinking sacks are sexy, I fully support these guys getting their funding – if only because otherwise, I never would have dreamed up a picture of a guy in an unzipped onsie in a pool. 

Give them money, get your very own onsie.

Some Things on the Internet Really Make Me Uncomfortable

And I’m not just talking about things you can find on those sites*.

*We all know what I’m talking about here. Don’t pretend you don’t also spend a lot of time on recipe websites. No one believes you.

I hate to delve into Regretsy** territory here. This is really their corner of the Internet. But I was shopping for a unique gift and boy howdy did I ever find one.

**Did you know Regretsy is no more?! I didn’t until this exact moment. Now the Internet has made me uncomfortable AND sad.

I’d like to introduce you to something I am never going to be able to forget:

Included: Feminine Pink Slash

I almost browsed right past this.
I wish I’d browsed right past this.

If you’re thinking “Oh what a cute sign,” you are missing several essential observations. Don’t worry. I’ll help.

  1. OB/GYNs use their hands for things you don’t want to think about. I’m starting with the most obvious thing here. But gentlemen, if you’re snickering here, this is sort of like a prostate exam doctor having a sign made out of snapping gloves and pointer fingers.
  2. The “o” and the “b” are both sort of ominously threatening in this context. I’m not joking. Look at in the context of “what if this isn’t a sign but instead a how-to hand demonstration.”
  3. The pink slash is an awkward use of both shape and color here. I’m not explaining why.
  4. The “g” is pointing at the pink slash. Which kind of highlights the awkwardness here.

In short, if an OB/GYN had this sign on her desk, I’d think she (or he. I’m not sexist, y’all) was providing a demonstration of (hopefully) exam-related hand movements. And that would make me run screaming. I’m not exaggerating.***

***I’m actually under-exaggerating here. The factual description would be “flee at top speed, shrieking like an anxious banshee.” 

I support increased awareness of the fact that people all have different needs. I also support accommodations for the hearing impaired or visually impaired (like me!) among us. I do. But please consider this point of fact: Hearing impaired people can read.

And I’m pretty sure deaf women feel just as threatened by this sign.

Way to go, Internet. I haven’t been this horrified in weeks.

As an aside, I totally salute this Etsy seller’s sweet hand-crafting-hand skills. She/He’s got some great names spelled out, and does custom work. I applaud all that and I hope she/he makes a billion dollars.

I know this was a pretty uncomfortable moment we just shared. So, to make you feel better, here is a picture of festive balls.

These things run rampant in NC.

CHRISTMAS balls. Jeeze. You guys are pervs.

(These things are everywhere in North Carolina. And now you can buy them for $50 a pop from Brookstone. I’m telling you. Their holiday catalog is a wealth of joy and gift-giving ideas. Gift giving ideas that can charge you $50 for a ball of Christmas lights wrapped around chicken wire.)

I hope that puts you right back in the holiday spirit. You’re welcome.

Juice Boxes Are Superior to Soda Cans

And I stand by my argument.

I am too busy to blog today.*
I have to travel for work** and am much too important to provide amusement.***

*Nevermind that I am writing this before “today” is happening.
**This makes me sound important. Translation? I have to drive three hours to run an errand for my office.
***I am a terrible liar. Providing amusement is my favorite thing.

So here are some pictures of things you can do with a juice box if you’re trapped in the office, waiting for other people to finish projects so you can go home.

Alternatively, I was going to name him Ted.

Meet Cranberry. Cranberry the Juicebox. Cranberry the Juicebox, last of his line. (He was the last one in the break room fridge.)

1. You can find odd flavors of juice boxes. You never know what’s going to be hiding in your office refrigerator. Soda is just so predictableSo the first thing you can do is name your juice box. Obviously, I got creative and named mine Cranberry.

Everyone say “hi Cranberry.”

Or are they?

Friends 4 Ever

2. You can introduce Cranberry – or whatever you named your lesser juice box – to your desk monster.

Everyone say “hi Lenny (the Xenomorph desk monster)”

Desk monsters are bad at love.

Desk monsters are bad at love.

3. You can make Lenny, your desk monster, and Cranberry, your juice box fight.
NOTE: Do not let your coworkers catch you doing this. They get…concerned.

His brains! His brains!

Taking this picture actually kind of disturbed me. You’re welcome, you guys.

4. You can share Cranberry, your juice box, with your desk monster Lenny.
NOTE: This has concerning implications about your mental state, and your ability to recognize inanimate objects as inanimate.

This is a very dramatic moment

Oh no! CRAAAANNNBEEERRRYYYY!

5. You can tape a face on Cranberry, your now-deceased juice box, when you realize that sharing juice with Lenny, your never-was-alive desk monster, means he runs OUT of juice. So tragic.
NOTE: This is an improper use of Post-Its.

Squishing juice boxes is super fun

Poor Cranberry. He lived such a short and delicious life.

6. You can crush your juice box to display proper mourning. And also to suck out the last of the juice trapped in the bottom.

Facts:

  1. Juice boxes are more fun than I remembered
  2. Drinking a juice box in an office environment is disconcerting
  3. This blog post is longer than a lot of other blog posts I’ve written, despite me obviously not having time to blog today
  4. I swear to you no one was around when I did all this. I’m not totally insane you guys.****

****The South said I have to stop writing “y’all” down, because it’s “not a written word.” I seriously had no idea, y’all. You learn something every day.

This Is Why I Shouldn’t Have the Internet

Google Hangouts brings me a lot of joy. It lets me keep in touch with my friends, and pick their brains for information I know nothing about (which often makes me seem smarter than I am while at work. Thanks, friends!)

On the other hand, it is also the devil.

I'm lying. I miss the 90s.

I am so over AOL Instant Messenger.

Conversation with H.W. and Mr. L*

(You will notice Mr. L spends a vast majority of this conversation not paying any attention at all, and only chips in to impart sage advice that does not come from Journey lyrics. This is, disturbingly, the norm.)

Me: Good morning gentlemen
The world is a terrible place: Charles Manson has a girlfriend even though he murdered people and is in jail.

(Seriously. It’s true. Click the link and lose all faith in other people.)

H.W:  http://www.agamenticus.org/index.php/mt-a-webcam
GUYS
GUYS
THERE IS A MOTHERSNEEZING* SNOWY OWL ON MT. AGATMENTICUS
AND ITS ON CAM

*Mothersneezing is DEFINITELY the word he used. Trust me.

Lookit the cute!

It looked much colder than this one. But still. Snowy Owl, y’all.
Wikipedia knows you want to know about Snowy Owls, too.

Me: I’m not clicking ANY link from you that includes the word “webcam.”

(This is a lesson I learned the hard way. Do not trust H.W., especially if he’s been Googling webcams.)

H.W.: A SNOWY OWL!!!!!!
Also
Mothersneezer
This is gorgeious

Me: CHARLES MANSON HAS A GIRLFRIEND
AND I AM SINGLE
I HAVE NOT KILLED EVEN ONE SINGLE PERSON, EVER**

**Totally true fact.

H.W.: #&%!@ DATING!
SNOWY OWL!  They are very rare and this is on the fringe of its habitat

Me: Stoppit. Stop finding beauty in the world
It’s an awful place
Where CHARLES MOTHERSNEEZING*** MANSON HAS A GIRLFRIEND

***I’m going to make this a real swear if it kills me.

H.W.: Did you click it?
^%!$ &^%!#$!****

****Censored to protect your fragile eyeballs from copious swears. You’re welcome.

Me: I did. It’s beautiful.
I hate you

H.W.: acquire snowy owl
LOOK AT DAH PLOOMAGE
what a mothersneezin’ bad ass

Me: ….
You’re missing the point here

H.W.:haha
DAT PLOOMAGE

Me: A serial killer psychopath has a 25 year old girlfriend, and you watch mountains with a webcam
The world is going to end and it’s all going to be your fault

Stop using up all the Internet. I want to watch the owl.

(2 hours later)

Mr. L: yo dawg
Chillax
Murderers are dark, mysterious, and alluring to the female persona
The lesson you should take from this, is that you’re pleased to learn that someone is dating a murderer, and it’s not you
Because you have better taste

The real lesson, y’all, is this:

My friends are really bad at paying attention to serial killers.

Give it up, Mr. Manson

See? No one is happy about this nonsense.

Here are some things about owls:

PBS says they’re totally magic. Really. But only the Snowy ones.

Owls can swivel their heads like that girl in The Exorcist. (Only it’s not as terrifying. And way more adorable.)

Apparently Snowy Owls only mate in May, so they’re totally my birthday owls. (That could be a thing. I’m making it a thing.)