Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Random Tuesday Thoughts #07: Calendars, zits, and movies

Like math, writing a good intro is hard.

  • Trying to find a good wall calendar sucks. I spent about two hours browsing online until I finally found one good enough to grace my wall for an entire year.
  • Have a zit under my right nostril, but, like… on the skin between where my face and nostril meet? It’s horrible and it hurts like a bitch. 
  • I still desperately need a haircut. Hoping to find time this week because this shit really, really needs to be tamed. 
  • I hate it when my touch-pad goes all retarded on me.
  • I know that New Year’s is just a few days away, but I’m kind of tired of all of these Best/Worst of 2010 lists that are popping up everywhere. 
  • I watched The Time Traveler’s Wife recently and the end result was me crying like a bitch. 
    • I watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World recently and the end result was me not crying like a bitch. 
    No tears formula
    • I’ve placed a ban on stuffed animals. My daughters have so many that it is absolutely ridiculous – it has to be well over forty or fifty -- after donating a shit-ton of them to various charities.
    • The girls got Moon Dough for Christmas, and while the idea is cool, the execution sucks. The stuff flakes and turns into powder, so it gets all over anything in the vicinity (particularly fabric) and requires massive clean up. 
    • I have banned that shit until further notice. 
    • My deodorant is totally failing me right now. I find this greatly distressing. 
    • TMI? 

    So, this is it – the final RTT of the year. I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions but I am hoping that in 2011, I will be able to sleep through the night ccompletely uninterrupted at least once. That would be AMAZING, but would require Munchkin to stop being so neurotic for a two year old, and for my stupid cat to stop hurpa durrping at five in the morning. Wish me luck.

    Monday, December 27, 2010

    Worst Christmas gift ever

    I don’t suppose many people spend Christmas searching their local sex offender registry and getting worked up into a murderous rage, but that’s precisely what I ended up doing this past Saturday. Don’t get me wrong – the morning was filled with much joy as the girls opened gift after gift and squealed in delight at the things that Santa brought them. There was the usual post-gift-exchange clean-up (you know, the one that seems to span infinite time and space because there’s so much paper and cardboard everywhere?) and phone calls to and from relatives to exchange best wishes and all that jazz. However, a run of the mill trip to the mailbox turned into something entirely unexpected because The Fates decided to piss in my cornflakes. Big time.

    Now with 50% more piss!
    First off, who checks their mail on Christmas Day? I only did it because it had been a few days and wanted to make sure there were no cards from friends or relatives that needed to be opened, etc. Anyway, I didn’t get any holiday cards – only some junk mail, a statement for our HOA dues (don’t most people buy houses to AVOID things like the HOA??), and a curious pamphlett from the Sheriff’s Department. I had actually dropped the pamphlett on the ground, and in my rush to pick it up before any left over rainwater soaked it through, the words “sex offender” immediately jumped out. Unfolding the paper revealed a shitty black and white photo and a notice that the man pictured lives a little ways down the road and is a Level 3 sex offender.


    After the kids went to bed and things settled down, I ended up using my county’s sex offender registry to find out more about the creeper on the flyer but instead, I found a bigger reason to flip out. There are two other guys -- both Level 2 offenders -- living within the area. When I Googled WA state's criteria for how they classify these fucks, this is what I got:

    Level 2 offenders have a moderate risk of re-offending. They generally have more than one victim and the abuse may be long term. These offenders usually groom their victims and may use threats to commit their crimes. These crimes may be predatory with the offender using a position of trust to commit their crimes. Typically these individuals do not appreciate the damage they have done to their victims.

    Level 3 offenders are considered to have a high risk to re-offend. They usually have one or more victims and may have committed prior crimes of violence. They may not know their victim(s). The crime may show a manifest cruelty to the victim(s) and these offenders usually deny or minimize the crime. These offenders commonly have clear indications of a personality disorder. 

    Reading through the profiles of each of the men made my skin crawl; Level 2 raped a drugged victim – a fourteen year old girl whose family considered him a close friend. Further read-through of the dossier revealed that prior to this, he was convicted in Cali for attempted rape of a drugged victim (so he came to WA and succeeded!?! GAH!!) and unlawful intercourse with a minor. Level 2 No.2 decided to touch a couple of his family members in places that should never be touched by any relative ever. Mister My-Face-Showed-Up-In-Your-Mailbox (Level 3) has molested several girls ranging in age from 5 – 15. 

    No explanation needed.
    So, yeah, I’m pretty pissed. Livid, really. It’s bad enough that these vile creatures (they aren’t humans; people that like to fuck children are not human by any means) are even allowed out of prison to begin with, as they are repeat offenders and are likely to re-offend. Oh, and there’s an elementary school located two miles from my house, which is within two miles of where these things live, according to the registry. It’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet for them!! What the fuck?!? Really, what the fucking fuckity fuck?!? I don’t give a shit if these guys are currently being monitored by the local police department – they should not be anywhere near children!! And MY children!! And my HOUSE!! My perfect house (with the imperfect lawn) in this perfect little neighborhood with its tupperware parties and cigar-smoking gatherings!! Who in the shit let this happen?!?!

    When Jeremy and I watched Kick-Ass for the first time, we marveled at Hit Girl.(Ooh, tangent!) The trailers and telly spots made her look incredibly annoying, but in the actual movie, she was a total badass, dismembering groups of grown men with assorted firearms and sharp, pointy things. At one point, we looked at each other and I don’t know who spoke first, but the conversation was short (and completely serious):

    “We need to teach the girls how to do that.”

    Too much?
    We have always talked about putting the girls in some form of martial arts while they are still young, but now that I know about the monstrosities living down the road, I’m thinking that weapon and firearm training might be a good idea, too. I mean, you never know when shit’s going to get real.


    Tuesday, December 21, 2010

    Random Tuesday Thoughts #06: Total eclipse of my brain

    Who caught the lunar eclipse last night? I got to see a little of it but it was too damn cold out to be standing in my driveway past midnight! Pretty cool though, right? (The eclipse, not my low tolerance for the cold.) Anyway, it’s Tuesday so that means it's time for (drum roll, please)…

    • Oh, shit. Christmas is on Saturday, isn’t it. (Fuuuuuck…)
    • I haven’t finished my Christmas cards yet. (Fuuuuuck…)
    • You know that guy who wrote that book about pedophilia? I’m glad he was arrested and I hope he dies. Painfully. I am completely serious.
    • The new Lonely Island single is out!! Have you seen the video or heard the song? It will change your life!
    Society has clearly started advancing.
    • I’m surprised that Munchkin is still alive. Why? Because the damn kid doesn’t eat. Midget hit this phase, too, but Midget was never a garbage disposal.
    • My mum sent me an old lady cardigan from Victoria’s Secret. It smells of plastic and is definitely the frumpiest piece of clothing I own.
    • When my mum told me that the package was from Victoria’s Secret, I felt the need to remind her of that time that I quit my job at VS after sitting through the six-hour training seminar.
    • Goddamn, this sweater really smells of plastic.
    • Midget and Munchkin have proclaimed that they like “Telephone” by Lady Gaga and Beyonce.
    • The girls also like “I’m On A Boat,” by The Lonely Island and will start singing it when it comes on in the car. However, since they are obviously not allowed to use “grown-up words,” they really can’t (and don’t) sing along past the one-minute mark.
    • Does anybody know who this creepy bitch co-hosting Attack of the Show is?! She’s like, this skinny little goth woman with a GIANT head and deep red lipstick. She’s gross.
    • I could probably Google that last one, but I don’t really feel like it.
    • I am seriously considering changing my Facebook profile pic to Strutting Leo. (Know your meme, folks!)
    Haters gonna hate.
    Now that I have managed to either bore you or freak you out (or both) for the week, I am off to waste more time playing Zuma Blitz instead of doing something constructive – like wrapping presents or decoupaging the shit out of some stuff I picked up for the girls. Merry Christmas, folks~!

    Saturday, December 18, 2010

    For your viewing pleasure. Or displeasure.

    Can I blame my lack of meaningful blog posts on Santa Buddies? Because I just saw a thirty-second television spot for its premier and I swear at least half of my brain cells just died. All I could do was stare in slack-jawed horror at the bizarre images on my “tee-bee,” as Munchkin so enthusiastically calls it. I think the real horror is that puppies will always appeal to children, so Midget, who was actually asking me questions about that movie during a shopping trip earlier this week, is going to be ALL OVER that shit.

    ©Walt Disney Pictures
    And this is where my maternal instincts kick the fuck in. 

    I’m black-listing Santa Buddies. Or Paws. Or whatever the shit it’s called. I have a short list of blacklisted movies and television shows; I think that letting my kids watch something that’s incredibly stupid could be way more damaging than letting them watch a five-minute Mickey Mouse short. Now, I know that they are kids, and these are just movies, and they are family-friendly, and blah, blah, blah, but some of these movies are just so damn ridiculous that I can’t help but be like, “No.”
    Of course, this doesn’t mean that I don’t let the kids watch things that are meant for their age group. We own every Pixar movie that is out on Blu-Ray (why the fuck haven’t they released Finding Nemo yet?!), along with the traditional Disney movies involving princesses and other magic. The girls have both been allowed to watch the Harry Potter movies, though they will not be allowed to see Deathly Hallows in any capacity until they are much older. (I wanted to ban Half Blood Prince as well, because of the gruesome introduction of the Sectumsempra curse, Inferi, and – of course – Dumbledore’s death, but somehow it slipped through the cracks during one of its excessive screenings on HBO. Even worse is that it seems to be Midget’s favourite HP film… “Is this the one where Draco gets all bloody?”)

    ©Warner Bros. Pictures
    The thing that I find the most interesting about kids and movies these days is that back in the 80’s, kid-friendly movies were much different from what we consider acceptable in this day and age. Like Labyrinth – where we had David Bowie’s gargantuan balls/cod-piece/groin-area sneaking into almost every scene in the entire movie. Transformers The Movie dealt with the death of Optimus Prime and included the infamously edited line, “Oh shit – what are we gonna do now?!” Or how about The Goonies?! Awesome movie – a classic! But what were some of the things included in that flick? Profanity, a dead body, a family of gangsters that wanted to MURDER a group of kids.

    Also worth mentioning about 80’s family and children’s movies is that there was nothing like Beverly Hills Chihuahua or that Shark Boy and Lava Girl bullshit. It makes me wonder when and why the standard for what’s appropriate for kids to see changed – and why.

    I’m not really sure of where I’m going with this, to be honest. In fact, this whole post was largely the result of a breakdancing dog, so take from that what you will…

    Tuesday, December 14, 2010

    Random Tuesday Thoughts #05: The Grumpy Edition

    It’s kind of late, and today has sort of sucked, but it’s still Tuesday, which means that I can still squeeze in my weekly stream-of-consciousness fuckery and feel glad that I managed to post something.


    • At around one this morning I was awoken by a CRAZY wind storm. It sounded like the Cloverfield monster was outside of my house screaming and shaking it. Yes – the wind was shaking the entire goddamn house and knocked the power out for about two seconds.
    • Midget has been sick for a few days and I am desperately trying to get her better by tomorrow so that she can sing in her school’s holiday program. However, the kid does not believe in rest, even when she is running a temperature and looks like she is dying. 
    • On the subject of Midget, no headless dolls this week! W00t! 
    • Washington drivers are seriously some of the worst I have ever seen. It’s amazing how many people don’t use their signals, cut you off, tailgate, and go under the speed limit. I fucking hate these people.
    • There is seriously nothing on telly right now. I have a bazillion channels and I can never find anything that I want to watch. WTF, Comcast?
    • IGN.com did their Game of the Year awards, and I seriously don’t understand how or why Heavy Rain was nominated for and won Best Horror Game because it is not a horror game by any stretch of the imagination. 
    • Just discovered Zuma Blitz on Facebook. Holy hell, I now have a new time-suck.
    • I have yet to mail out my Christmas cards. Megan only got hers because I included it in a package I sent her way. All of the other cards are sitting on my counter. Blank.

    You know what else is blank? The inside of my head at the moment. Today has been so aggravating that I’m totally fried. Ugh. It might be time for me to run upstairs and police the living shit out of bedtime, as I am hearing way too much noise coming from the baby monitor (which I hate with a passion, btw. That’s a story/rant for another day…).

    You know what, though? I’m going to take this RTT out on a much more positive note by including a shout out to a certain homie of mine who is having a baby tomorrow!!! Congratulations, dude!! :D

    Tuesday, December 7, 2010

    Random Tuesday Thoughts #04: A decapitated Disney Princess

    It’s Tuesday, so you know what that means: 

    (Don't forget to visit Keely, the originator of RTT!)
    • I FINALLY saw Deathly Hallows and it was fucking AWESOME!!
    • Munchkin has hit that really aggravating part of the Terrible Two’s where everything we tell her is met with a curt, “No.” Totally not my idea of a good time.
    • Root beer is gross.
    • I will never understand why young children are obsessed with standing on their heads.
    •  Midget took her Princess Jasmine doll to school yesterday. When I picked her up in the afternoon, Jasmine was newly headless, her plastic neck made of jagged edges.
    • I am not entirely convinced that Midget “twisted it too much.” Twisting does not usually snap hard plastic.
    • Dunham Smash?
    • No 90210 until the end of January! What the fuck, CW?? And what the shit with the ending to last night’s episode? It concludes on an intensely sinister note, but then the preview for the next episode is all cheery and happy and campy.
    • I started Alan Wake months ago now, and I am only on the second chapter. I need to buckle down and finish it.
    Lack of progress makes Alan sad.
    • I still have yet to resolve this whole phantosmia issue.
    • I donated all of my Dickies pants to charity today. As much as I loved those pants, I will never be able to fit into them again. Thank you, post childbirth hips!! (This is blatant sarcasm.)

    I don’t have a coherent or clever way to end this post… Umm, sorry?

    Sunday, December 5, 2010

    Kids Say the Darndest Things

    My kids are fucking weird, and I say that in the most loving possible way. I’m pretty sure that Jeremy and I have a lot to do with this: through the miracle that is a night with movies and beer procreation, our individual eccentricities have joined together to create the goddamn Devastator of weirdness, which can now be found in our kids’ DNA (presumably somewhere between eye colour and body-type).

    I reckon it's somewhere to the left?

    For the last couple of years, since Midget started talking, I have posted some of her more memorable bits on Facebook for my friends and family to see. So, since I’m kind of hurting for actual shit to write about, I’ve decided to share some of these bits here on the blog, so that anybody reading this can enjoy some of the oddities that come out of my kid's mouth. The two-year old is still a n00b when it comes to this speaking thing, so I don’t have any good quotes from her… yet.

    Actual Snippet of Conversation #1

    Me: Midget, what is your problem?!
    Midget: I don't KNOW! ... maybe I should sleep.
    *grabs my face under my left eye and pinches*
    Me: ...?
    Midget: You with the cheeky cheeky.
    *gives me an eskimo kiss and then smiles and caresses (yes, caresses) my face*
    Midget: I'm so sorry. I just mean that.

    Actual Snippet of Conversation #2

    Midget: Gizmo is going to take me to go see a movie.
    Me: He is?
    Midget: Yeah. He's going to take me to see a movie called "Hemelations."
    Me: "Hemelations?" O_o
    Midget: Yup. Bye mom! I'm going to see Hemelations now. Come on, Gizmo. You're taking me. ...Yup; you sure are!
    Gizmo: Mrow?

    This fuckin' guy.

    Actual Snippet of Conversation #3

    Midget: Mommy, when I get older you will buy me a swore.
    Me: A what?
    Midget: A suh-worr.
    Me: ????
    Midget: A Suh-WORRR!
    Me: *light bulb over head clicks on* A sword??
    Midget: Yeah, a sword. When I get older you will buy me one.
    Me: Absolutely not.
    Midget: Why?
    Me: I don't even have a sword. Why on earth would you want one?
    Midget: So I can stab people if they touch my nipples.

    Actual Snippet of Conversation #4
    (This is the most recent one, taking place a few weeks ago.)

    Midget: Mommy, do I know everything?
    Me: Nope. Not even close.
    Midget: Does Daddy know everything?
    Me: Nope. Nobody knows everything.
    Midget: ...Yes he does.

    It goes without saying that my husband is particularly fond of that last one.

    I can’t even begin to imagine the type of shit Munchkin is going to start coming up with.

    Tuesday, November 30, 2010

    Random Tuesday Thoughts #03: The Cake has been delayed

    Last week’s freak snowstorm seriously fucked up my shit, as anybody who follows me on Twitter probably already knows. I have no idea what that has to do with this week’s installment of Random Tuesday Thoughts. Onward!

    • I STILL haven’t seen Deathly Hallows.
    • The term “jeggings” makes me almost unreasonably angry.
    • I told Jeremy to get me Marvel vs. Capcom 3 as my Valentine’s gift. Nothing says “I love you” quite like stringing together crazy 30+ hit combos and farming Achievements.
    • Portal 2 was originally supposed to be out in February as well. Sadly, Valve pushed it back to an April release. This makes me a sad panda.
    Vital testing apparatus destroyed.
    • Had another dream about the zombie apocalypse last week. In this one I was infected, and really, really pissed off about it.
    • My hair went from “Pretty Decent” to “Cousin It” seemingly out of nowhere.
    • I found an awesome picture of Dave Chappelle as Prince that I am inserting here for your viewing pleasure, as well as mine.

    • I was supposed to get a tattoo in July. It’s almost December. What the fuck?
    • For days now, I have been smelling cigarette smoke for no apparent reason. I don’t smoke. No one around me smokes. I’ll be minding my own business and then, BAM – my nasal passages start hallucinating. Always happens around the same time and while I’m in the same place – in my goddamn living room. It’s getting really annoying.
    • I have slathered the tip of my nose with deodorant more than a few times in an effort to get the above described phantom smell to stop. This is either really clever, or really sad. Probably the latter because the smell is a reoccurring phenomenon. 
    • Dexter fans who are current on Season 5: Did shit get real or did shit get real?! The weekly wait between episodes is almost painful...

    And that is it for this week's randomness. Stay classy, folks~

    Tuesday, November 23, 2010

    Random Tuesday Thoughts #02: Buffy reboot needs to DIAF

    Awww, shit! Get your towels ready, it’s … wait a minute. It’s not about to go down – I just have "I’m On A Boat" stuck in my head (as usual). With that said, it’s time for a new installment of Random Tuesday Thoughts! Weeee!

    • I’m finally supposed to see Deathly Hallows tonight. We’ll see what happens though – I was supposed to see it last night, but it started snowing, and my all-weather tires decided that they weren’t all-weather enough for snowy weather. Driving around with almost no traction whatsoever just to see Harry Potter is… well, honestly, I totally would have done it if my husband hadn’t stepped in as the voice of reason, as he is prone to doing.
    • On the subject of my husband, I had not truly lived until I saw him randomly tour jeté into our goddamn living room over the weekend. He did it to get a laugh out of the girls but I’m pretty sure that I enjoyed it much more than they did.
    • There’s a line at the end of Beauty and the Beast that has always bothered the shit out of me. It’s right after the Beast transforms back to his human self. Do you know what I’m talking about here? He looks at Belle and says, “It’s ME!” to which she replies (after playing with his hair a little bit before looking into his eyes) “It IS you!” Really, Belle? Even though you just saw him change back to his human self it took a quick glance at his baby blues to confirm that the guy in front of you, who happens to be wearing the exact same clothes as the Beast you just cried over, is in fact the Beast you just cried over? I thought they said Belle was SMART.
    Durrpa durrrrrr...
    • The song "This is Hardcore" by Pulp is seriously one of the most awesome songs in history. It’s also one of the dirtiest. Seriously, listen to thoses lyrics, man! Or Google them, whatever. Either way, the song itself is the shit.
    • I haven’t uploaded any new art to my deviantART account since August. Before that, it was May. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to renew my membership every year.
    • I walked by a magazine that had a photo of Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart, with a big bold headline that said something about them getting married. Good for them and all, but I have to be honest: they look like the most boring couple on the planet; like their idea of a good time is renting a Rug Doctor.
    • Munchkin’s vocabulary has exploded over the last few weeks, and it’s pretty awesome. Seriously, the day after her birthday she started stringing together two and three word sentences with ease. I love that we can all somewhat understand her now, because that pointing and grunting thing was getting old.
    • Midget is having some sort of holiday program at her pre-school, so she has been practicing assorted holiday songs with her schoolmates for the last couple of weeks. There’s something insanely cute about her off-key rendition of "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas." I can’t wait to see the actual performance.
    • I took Gizmo for his annual check-up over the weekend because I’ve been really slack on that shit. So slack, that, like… he was due for his distemper vaccine some time last year. Oddly enough, I was told by this new vet that Gizmo should lose two pounds. The cat is a fucking beanpole. He is also part Maine Coon (the largest domestic breed of cat) so he’s supposed to be LARGE.
    • FUCK the newly greenlit Buffy reboot! No Whedon, no Buffy. Period.
    • Magic… muthafucka! (Ten points to anyone who knows what I’m even talking about here.)
    • I found a plethora of left over blue hair dye under my sink last week. It made me miss my dye jobs. Maybe I’ll channel some Illyria (Wut up, Angel fans?!) up in this bitch and streak it… just so that the dye doesn’t go to waste.
    • Blogger is fucking up my shit -- big time. It's always changing my goddamn font and giving me other formatting issues. Getting pretty pissed here.
    • I seriously refuse to put the goddamn cat on a diet.
    So, that’s it for this week. Enjoy your Thanksgiving, crackers!

    Tuesday, November 16, 2010

    Random Tuesday Thoughts (AKA Oh, shit, I'm participating in a blog meme)

    So, there’s this blogger called Keely, AKA the Un-Mom, and she has this thing – Random Tuesday Thoughts. I’m going to give it a go, because it’s Tuesday, and there’s a lot of random shit swimming around in my head at the moment. So... let's do this:


    • I read an article in Game Informer magazine last week about the thirty most influential videogame characters of the last decade. It was retarded. Influential in what way? Were these numbers picked at random or are they actual ranks? Because if they are ranks, GLaDOS has no business in the number one spot. Don't get me wrong; I love me some Portal, and GLaDOS is awesome, but come on. There were also numerous omissions (Marcus Fenix, where art thou?), and, well, the whole thing was just very poorly put together. It was lame.
    • My front lawn is absolutely out of control. Every time myself or my husband resolve to mow the damn thing, it rains. And rains. And rains. It rains so much that even when it’s not raining, the ground is still soaked through. We seriously have the worst grass on the block. I have no idea how everyone else around here gets their lawns to look perfect. They must all have pacts with the devil or something.
    • Speaking of neighbors, I saw Pajama Guy the other day. Wearing the same stupid pajama pants. They are dreadful.
    • Interacting with moms that I don’t know is terrifying. This was reinforced when I went to the birthday party of a good friend’s daughter last weekend. The moms with the babies strapped to them seemed especially frightening. I totally lucked out when I met that Selby Chick!
    • Munchkin’s sleep schedule has gone completely ape-shit, and it’s driving me nuts. She actually woke up at three a.m. a couple of times. Fucking three a.m. No clue why this is happening, but it better stop soon. Or else I’ll just get grumpier than I already am.
    • And, finally, if I have to wait until the blu-ray release to see Deathly Hallows Pt.1 I will punch somebody in the face. Seriously. Not joking here.

    Absolutely CANNOT miss this!!
    These are the things I think about when I’m up at all hours of the night. Pure genius, I know.

    Tuesday, November 2, 2010

    I Spy

    I wouldn’t classify myself as a nosy person. When talking to my friends I wait for them to tell me things -- I don't prod for details unless it's something huge. I keep to myself and rarely interact with my neighbors. Maybe it's because sometimes I wonder if anybody around here is stashing hookers in their crawl spaces, because places that appear to be perfect rarely are, but I digress.

    Anyway, now that we’ve established how not nosy I am, let’s talk about tonight. I was sorting this crazy mountain of laundry that had accumulated in the upstairs foyer over the last two weeks and came across some clothes that Munchkin had grown out of. I went to place said clothes into the “Charity or Care Package?” basket in our future library/office, which is a total train wreck of a room right now, and noticed an ass-ton of coloured lights streaming in through the currently bare windows. (No window treatments yet...) So, I walk over to the basket as planned but can’t help but notice two EMS trucks directly across the street from my house. I left the room and stupidly asked my husband, who was cooking dinner at the time, if he knew that the trucks were there. Of course he didn’t know – he was in the goddamn kitchen!

    Back to the sorting I went, taking clothes from room to room, closet to closet. Folding pants, matching socks, throwing away fabric softener sheets… and then I HAD to see what was going on outside! I finished with the clothing and turned off every light upstairs so that I could creep back into the office like a fucking ninja. I crouched on the floor under the window and peered out, waiting to get some kind of visual clue as to what the hell happened.

    I felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

    Here I was, crouched under my own window, in the dark, watching the EMTs carry the old man I see almost daily down the stairs and onto a stretcher, all the while hoping that nobody would notice my giant bottom of a bottle glasses peering over the windowsill. I suppose that anyone would wonder what the hell was happening if they suddenly saw emergency vehicles and personnel swarming the house across their street, but still. Watching from afar in a darkened room seemed somehow… excessive, if not just plain wrong. Yet there I was, as bad as those idiot rubber-neckers who hold up traffic trying to get a glimpse of an accident on the other side of the road, hoping that the streetlamp outside wouldn’t give away my position.

    And then, it happened.

    Enter stage left: some random bloke in a white t-shirt and pajama pants waltzing over to the house, trying to look as casual as possible. In the dark. In his motherfucking pajamas.

    I watched as he walked right up to the EMTs as they loaded the old man onto the stretcher. This guy was so obviously looking for a tasty chunk of  gossip information that it was kind of gross, really. I watched as he momentarily disappeared from sight (he walked behind one of the trucks) and then promptly reappeared, shot down and walking back toward his perfect -- possibly hooker-hiding -- house. Watching this asshole made me feel worlds better about myself, as my curiosity was hidden in a dark room as opposed to right up in some shit that, quite frankly, no one but the parties involved had any right to be up in.

    I can only hope that the EMT he briefly spoke with – or even my incapacitated neighbor himself – told Pajama Guy to fuck off.

    Thursday, October 28, 2010

    A Quick Note

    Okay, so, clearly, things here look waaay different than the last time you visited, right? I decided to go ahead and update my template, but with new templates come all sorts of headaches: reconfiguring widgets, tweaking code, making sure links within said code are working, etc. etc. Of course, I am a lazy bastard and I am prone to getting distracted by things like my kids not going to bed, or my husband groping me, or whatever's on telly (if it's interesting), so some stuff may not work right away. Just know that I know, and that I'm working on it (sort of) and, eventually, this space will be fully functional and just might resemble a REAL web page.


    Tuesday, October 26, 2010

    Happy Birthday Nagi

    Today would have been the tenth birthday of my super awesome fat homo cat, Nagi, who passed away in January of 2009. I know that it’s probably a weird thing to blog about – the birthday of a long dead cat, but whatever. That cat was more human than about 95% of the people I have met throughout my life, so I think that writing about him is totally allowed and not weird or anything.


    See, the thing about Nagi’s death is that it was untimely; even though he was classified as “geriatric” he was still pretty young when he passed – he had only turned eight a few months prior. Unfortunately, he had a giant tumor growing behind his sternum that nobody knew about until our veterinarian was kind enough to perform a necropsy for me (and even he was blown away by his findings; the tumor was roughly the size of an adult male fist). Said tumor ruptured and bled out one night, causing the cat to scream before literally dropping dead just outside of my bedroom. (Can I just say that the sound of death is absolutely terrifying? Because it is.)

    It goes without saying that when I think about Nagi, I like to push the image of his still warm corpse out of my mind as much as possible -- it's just one of those things that I like to do. Even though a lot of people knew him as surly and a little unfriendly, Nagi  was actually an amazing guy. Very smart, very loving, and very loyal. After a shitty day at work he was always there to steal my side of the bed and violate my personal space. It was like having an enormous, gay pillow… with feet!

    It really didn't get much better than this.
    Unfortunately, Nagi’s death had one other lasting effect: it left us with Gizmo. 

    Gizmo is a cat that my husband and I adopted from the Humane Society during my six month stint under their employment. He was only four months old at the time, and extremely cute. He also had the terrible misfortune of being dubbed Papa DeChulo before being abandoned in front of the shelter in a cat carrier. He took to my husband immediately, which was part of why we brought him home with us (the other reason we adopted him was because we thought that Nagi was lonely). Little did we know was that the Artist Formerly Known as Papi Chulo was -- IS -- dumb. Like, seriously DUMB. I think back to Nagi, and then I look at Gizmo, who flips out and thinks that he’s starving to death if even the slightest bit of the bottom of his food bowl is visible under his food, and I can’t help but to ask, “What the fuck happened to YOU?!” 

    Don’t get me wrong: Gizmo is a great cat in his own way – he’s extremely good with children, which is more than I can say about Nagi, who was absolutely terrible with the wee ones, and he’s really sweet, but other than that, Giz just doesn’t have a whole lot of redeeming qualities. He is extremely jumpy (shittiest guard cat ever), he has yet to grasp the whole concept of “Come here,” and his breath is horrible. He has also taken to sleeping on my head, which would be extremely endearing if it didn’t involve his massive, half-maine coon body stretching out over my pillow and barely leaving room for my goddamn head. Also, he is almost six years old and has no idea how to open a door. What the shit kind of cat can’t figure out how to pry a door open with their paw(s)?!

    Oh. Right.

    Gizmo is very dear to me, but the sad truth is that I can’t look at him without thinking about how great Nagi was, and how very much I still miss that son of a bitch.

    Cheers, Nagi-bear.

    Sunday, October 24, 2010

    Fuck Yes!

    It's been a long, long time since I have been awarded anything other than a poopy diaper or sleep deprivation, so imagine my surprise when the fabulous Sam over at Rot du Jour sent this, the One Lovely Blog Award, my way!

    I seriously never thought that the word "lovely" would ever be associated with the internet space for my acerbic and nonsensical ramblings. Also, I never thought that more than three or four people NOT related to me would ever read this shit to begin with! This totally qualifies as double rainbow, right??

    Monday, October 4, 2010

    Life Lessons from 90210

    90210 is a guilty pleasure show for a reason. I mean, it’s a teen drama about rich kids. (Then again, I think all of today’s teen dramas feature rich kids, don’t they?) It doesn’t take itself too seriously, which is kind of cool, but at the same time, some of its plot threads are so far out there that I can’t even watch it with a straight face. In spite of this, the show does offer its target teen audience some valuable life lessons:
    • You can totally commit vehicular homicide and get away with it! The worst that will happen to you? Three months house-arrest and seven to eight years on probation! For KILLING someone -- and driving drunk! So go run some fuckers down; it'll be rad!
    I'm a killer! w00t w00t
    • It’s okay to steal from the dead. Especially if the dead was a singer/songwriter. Take their shit, claim it as your own, and everybody will love you. (Though it does look like Adrianna is going to face the consequences for this... maybe. We'll see.)
    • Planting cocaine in a schoolmate’s locker is perfectly acceptable.
    • Get drunk in public. Especially if you are underage. It’s awesome since nobody ever asks for ID.
    • Running from the cops is super fun, especially since they are too incompetent to actually catch you!
    • Do not trust anyone with an accent, particularly if said accent is English. 
    See these blokes? EVIL. (Especially lefty.)
    • Every relationship in the universe is doomed. Doomed, goddammit!!
    I wonder what tonight's episode is going to teach us?

    Monday, September 27, 2010

    Missed Connection

    You: The driver of a dirty white car (not sure of the make and model) that had a very distinct “Vet Tech” sticker on the back. There was also another decal featuring some kind of dog.

    Me: The exhausted-looking brunette in the passenger seat of the champagne coloured Suzuki Aerio you decided to play bitch with.

    It was a partly cloudy Monday afternoon and we were both traveling on Willows Road, just outside of Kirkland. My husband began to merge into your lane, as ours was ending, but since the road totally belonged to you, you tried to speed up to not let us in. My husband accelerated our vehicle and got in front of you anyway, but you, still upset that we violated your road, decided to tailgate the living shit out of our car. Eventually we ended up in front of you by several cars; we quickly forgot about you and your misguided attempt to keep us from reaching our destination. My kids were happy (and maybe a little fussy) and all was well. That is, until you suddenly came out of nowhere, cutting us off from the left and then abruptly hitting your brakes at about 40mph so that we could get a good look at your middle finger being held high outside of your window. I flipped you two birds as you immediately changed lanes once more and sped off.

    Vet Tech, I am going to assume that you are female, as not too many men drive around with cute stickers proclaiming their professions on their cars. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but you are a cunt. You decided to act like an asshole and do some very dangerous things on the road… while my kids were in the car. Even though I was confident that my family and I were not in any danger  (hubby is an excellent driver, as I’m sure you noticed), you should be aware that I hold grudges, Vet Tech. Regardless of how awesome my guy is behind the wheel, your actions still put my children in harms way, and that is something that I can’t seem to get past. I have memorized your car, your sticker, and even some minor details about your hairless arm. It’s also convenient that we work in the same field – so finding out who you are won’t be too difficult. You better believe that if our paths should somehow cross, I will make sure that Karma comes around to fuck your shit up. 

    See you on the road.

    Tuesday, September 21, 2010

    My Final Final Fantasy?

    I have a confession to make: I’m a chick and I am a gamer.

    This statement does not have the same impact it would have had say, 10 – 15 years ago now that gaming has become more of a mainstream form of entertainment. Not to mention that chicks like Olivia Munn, Jessica Chobot, and even Morgan Webb have totally stolen my thunder. Though, I have to admit that I question whether or not Webb is a real chick every time I see her ghoulish visage on G4, but that’s a different matter entirely. Anyway, I picked up my first controller when I was about 3 or 4; my (asshole) brother had been given a NES while I got a stupid Cabbage Patch Kid that is probably still in my mom’s house somewhere. That’s right -- my love of gaming started back in the 8-bit era, before riveting cinematics and baby-butt-smooth controls were central to a game’s success. In my day, it was all about bleeps, blips, and hella pixelated blobs running around on simple backdrops doing simple things. 

    This was all we had, son!
    Even though Mario and Link were pretty damn cool, it wasn’t until the days of the SNES that I really started getting into this shit. My (asshole) brother got Final Fantasy IV (which had then been released as Final Fantasy II here in the States) and, holy fuck, dude. I was totally blown away by the visuals (16-bit!!), the music, and most importantly, the story. Fucking Cecil! And Kain! Rosa! Love Triangle! And Airships! Leviathan! Tellah’s classic line about Edward being a “spoony bard!” These are all things that stuck with me, as you can see. When Final Fantasy VI was released (as FFIII in the States due to some release discrepancies and overall wackiness) my head damn near exploded. Out of every game I have ever played, man… FFVI is, to this day, my favourite of all time. It has been re-released several times for the younger generation to check out (with CG cutscenes and slightly remastered sound added because n00bs are spoiled) and I have played and beaten (the shit out of) every single one of those re-releases, despite knowing the game’s story, characters (LOCKE!!!), and battle system inside and out. Sure, the visuals are remarkably dated, and up until recently, the translation had left a lot to be desired (“Son of a submariner”? …the fuck?) but it is still one of the most amazing games that I will ever play.

    Heart this guy!
    So, now that you have sufficient background info, I can move on to the present… when I played Final Fantasy XIII for the first time. Cue downtrodden music, and maybe some bitter tears.

    Okay, I lied; we’re going to go back to 1997 for second, when Final Fantasy VII was released on the Sony PlayStation, setting a new precedent for the franchise. Not so much with the narrative (although the rabid fanboys and girls of the world will vehemently disagree with me there), but with the visuals. A new character designer (the then unknown but now totally annoying Tetsuya Nomura) brought us some of the most recognizable characters in all of gaming: the spiky-haired protagonist  Cloud Strife, and his totally sinister (but only about a five or a six on the scale of overall evil) arch-enemy Sephiroth. The CG cutscenes brought a never before seen cinematic element to Final Fantasy, providing the masses with eye-candy that would only become more and more delicious with each new installment in the series. 

    Estuans interius ira vehementi...

    Now let's come back to today... in a second.

    The last FF game I have played through, from start to finish, was FFX on the PlayStation2. Shame on me – I know. Even though my husband played and reviewed FFX-2, XI, and XII during his days with IGN.com, I never really got the chance to sit down and REALLY get into any of them (Actually, I take that back -- I watched every moment of X-2.). When I learned that XIII was in development it wasn’t as exciting (for me) as it should have been. Yes, it is the first Final Fantasy to hit the current-gen consoles. Yes, it is prettier than all previous iterations combined. But there was something about it that kept me from being all, “FUCK YEAH!” about its impending release. Maybe it was the fact that Nobuo Uematsu, the composer for every game up until X (with a guest-spot here and there on XI and XII) was gone for good. Or maybe it was the fact that FF-alums Yoshinori Kitase and Hironobu Sakaguchi were off of the project as well. Or maybe -- just maybe -- it had something to do with Tetsuya Nomura’s too-cool-for-school character designs, which have gone from being contemporary and imaginative to contemporary hipster with lots of zippers and furs EVERYWHERE. Also, a bazillion spin-offs were announced before the initial product was ever released; it came across as really, really excessive. (I probably sound crazy right now, especially to any non-gamers reading this, but whatever; Google is your friend.) 

    Mickey Mouse from Kingdom Hearts 2. See all those zippers and buckles??
    So, yeah… I had seen and heard things here and there, creating a definite prejudice toward this title. Even the names of the characters had me turned off. (Lightning? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.) I decided to check it out for myself, just a little bit, and I honestly don’t know if I could ever enjoy it because it was so bad! I don’t even know where to begin! 

    Is it pretty? Yes, it is pretty as fuck. But pretty doesn’t mean enjoyable. I think I spent more time watching this game than playing it, as the whole cinematic element that has been more and more prominent in games these days was just out of control here. No, really. It wasn’t until about 20 minutes in that I finally had control of a single character in any capacity. And that control was limited only to using my directional pad to either select things or adjust the camera, and a single button during battle to execute my commands. 

    A. Single. Button.
    To make matters worse, even though I had up to three annoying assholes in my party, I was only ever allowed to control one. Then the game tutorial told me that if that one asshole died, it would be game over, even if my AI allies were at full health. I experienced this little slice of bullshit first-hand and I wanted to punch somebody in the face. Moving on, I will admit that the story had me a little intrigued, but it was a bit hard to get into; not because of any sort of complexity, but because of the predictable angles (stoic, mysterious ex-soldier going after something big… some kid ‘s mom dies not five minutes after saying “Moms are tough”… you know, that sort of shit.) and the aggravating people it all centered around. The characters I dealt with had some of the most ridiculous apparel and mannerisms I have ever seen. What the fuck with the boy wearing GIANT headphones… in the middle of a war zone? Why does hipster tattoo chick not have any pants on? When did the hipster culture pervade my beloved JRPGs to begin with?! Why in the hell did Nomura find it necessary to give Lightning spiky hair?! Does every protagonist have to have styling wax on hand now? Why am I controlling somebody named “Lightning” in the first place?? Why couldn’t she be called something classy, like Emma, or Cordelia, or something? Here we go with the names again, but it’s sort of a big deal. Poorly named characters can fuck your shit up – especially if said names come across as goofy and pretentious.

    Case in point: this chap is called Snow.
    It goes without saying that I can’t judge this entire game after spending only a little over an hour with it, but goddamn, was I annoyed. Hell, there are things about it that annoy me that I haven’t even seen yet. When did the Eidolons (creatures that you can summon via magic) become Transformers?! Why can’t I explore any towns? 

    Eugh. I’m at such a loss right now that I can’t even think of an intelligent way to end this entry. Fuck it.

    Monday, September 6, 2010

    Fuck Twilight!

    It was only a matter of time before I would tackle the Twilight series in my blog.

    I mean, come on! It’s a book that features celibate, fangless vampires that sparkle! How can I NOT write about this bizarre phenomenon?? (Like it or not, ravenous fans who found this shit via Google, celibate fangless vampires that sparkle are bizarre. Period.)

    Anyway, so, I was first introduced to the Twilight series back in 2008 when a good friend of mine offered to let me borrow the first book. Me, being a hopeless romantic, and a HUGE Buffy/Angel shipper, was like “Human falls in love with a vampire? Bring that shit over!” and my life was changed. But not in the positive “Joss Whedon is an awesome writer and I look forward to seeing/reading his future projects” sort of deal, but more of a “What the fuck with the sparkling and the baseball??” sort of a deal.

    Whatever, Spike.

    Flash forward to now. I have read all four Twilight books. I have even read those little extras that Stephenie Meyer put up on her website (e.g. New Moon’s Edward is living off of rats and has a headache vignette), and I even started Midnight Sun while I still thought that it might be intriguing. I know the Twilight Saga inside and out… and I cannot, cannot, cannot, for the LIFE of me , can NOT understand what all of the mass-hysteria is about!! To quote Eric Cartman, “What’s the big fucking deal, bitch?”

    I mean…  I can sum it up until I am blue in the face, but places like The Oatmeal and Cracked have done such bang up jobs respectively that I need not bother with the painstaking process of telling any  readers about the series. ...But, if for some reason, you can’t/won’t follow links, here are some of my disjointed keywords regarding the Twilight Saga: Human. Vampire. Werewolf. Generic love triangle. Glitter. Creepy hybrid baby (Renesmee). Creepy old ladies getting tattoos of Edward Cullen’s name and/or face somewhere on their person. Creepy fanclubs devoted to how “sexy” Edward Cullen is. Creepy fanclubs devoted to how “hot” Jacob Black is. Creepy adult toys that sparkle and maintain room temperature (that are probably owned by every person in the creepy Edward fanclub).

    Honestly, Twilight didn’t start off BAD. It was sort of intriguing. The setting was neat, the two protagonists shared some genuinely cute scenes together (“How long have you been seventeen?”), and it was a love story! Yay for young love! But then… it just sort of fell to pieces. And fast. That whole sparkling in the meadow thing seriously killed it for me. I tried to understand it, I really did. I welcome different takes on things that are as universal and rehashed as vampires – it keeps them interesting. But getting all glittery in the sunlight is just bloody ridiculous! One of the biggest things that makes a vampire a vampire (aside from that whole drinking blood thing) is the inability to go out into sunlight. Not because they will look as pretty as a jar of Martha Stewart glitter (have you seen that shit? It’s fucking amazing!) but because the sun’s light is one of the few things actually capable of killing them. 

    So. Goddamn. Pretty!!! (No sunlight needed.)

    So, the vampires in the Twilight Universe don’t burn up when the sun hits them, they don’t have fangs, they do not sleep during the day (in fact, they don’t sleep at all), and they are venomous. (That’s right – if a Twilight vamp wishes to sire somebody, all they have to do is bite them a few times and wait until the venom slowly transforms them into a “vamp”.) With that being said, I’m thinking that the term “un-vampire” might be a more accurate descriptor for the Cullens and their glittery brethren.

    One more aspect of these un-vamps that puzzles me is that all of them have a gift that is unique to them. Edward is a mind-reader; Alice a seer, and so on… but is that really necessary? This lot has enhanced senses, super-strength and speed, and can’t die. I was onboard with Ed and Alice being “special” even among the special; after all, there was that one line where Edward refers to the two of them as being freaks, which is why they get on so well. But then, by the time the fourth book rolled around, EVERY vamp – sorry,un-vamp -- seemed to carry the X-gene, therefore throwing all of the pre-established mythos out the window.

    As for the werewolves, well… you can’t really fuck up a werewolf, so I have no qualms with the lupine lackies of La Push. Except for their onscreen absurdity. They don’t look hot, they don’t look intimidating, and their brushed on abs are just sad (especially if you keep in mind that, with the exception of Taylor Lautner AKA Jacob, all the other wolves are looking pretty doughy in Eclipse). If I want a veritable beefcake overdose, I will turn to Zack Snyder’s 300. Because not only is it a better flick than all three of the Twilight movies put together, but those motherfuckers are CUT. And they’re like, killing shit with finesse every 20 seconds. Or, I can just ask my husband to take off his shirt because it’s like, the same thing – sans the killing shit.

    But, I digress.

    A huge part of Twilight’s smoldering demise for me has always been Bella fucking Swan. This chick… Ach! Where do I even begin?? Once again, she started off alright. I was able to relate to her staggering clumsiness. As somebody who kicks her own ass on a daily basis, I was cool with that. But, what else is there to say about Bella? She never evolves beyond being some clumsy average Jane -- she is a void. Without Edward, there is nothing. This character will literally die without him, as seen in New Moon, when she curls up into a ball in the middle of the forest (behind her house) and stays there after Eddie dumps her lame ass.

    This is not cool. As somebody with some MAD co-dependency issues, I can seriously say that this is fucked up. Yes, Bella is a silly high school girl, and yes, when silly high school girls experience strong emotions (such as love) their whole world tends to turn upside down. I get that. I’ve been through that! Yes, if something disastrous happens, it feels like you’re going to die! But you don’t actually die! You brood for awhile, you get back up and you get depressed and you oversleep and you binge eat and you get a little drunk (if you’re old enough) and you lean on your friends and family a little bit to help you through a tough time! But Bella never does that! She never does anything other than lead Jacob on whenever she wants something from him, and talk about how beautiful Edward is. She has no redeeming qualities as a person! She is not strong, she is not intelligent (sorry, but reading Wuthering Heights in your spare time and listening to Bach does not automatically make you smart), and she’s not interesting. She’s just some stupid bitch who has no identity outside of her boyfriend. It goes without saying that she is absolute poison for the legions of young girls who are reading this shit and thinking that Bella is what they should grow to be. (I’m not even going to get into this though; many others already have.)

    Cold, metallic EVE is more human than Bella.
    Despite the strange re-tooling of one of the world’s most beloved monsters, a heroine who is little more than a lawn ornament with arms, and a downright unhealthy viewpoint on what love should look like, even older women are being taken by the Twilight Saga and doing things that are just weird: like pining after an eternally underage un-vampire (or the way underage werewolf) and showing their devotion by getting tattoos or decorating entire rooms in his honor. Like, if I was a dude, and my girlfriend, wife, fiance, lady-friend, whatever, came home with a tattoo of some other dude’s name somewhere on her, I would be pissed! It just strikes me as insulting. (And definitely disturbing.) That’s like happily married me going out and getting a tattoo that says Jack Shephard, or Locke Cole, or Alcide Herveaux. Sure, none of the aforementioned names belong to anybody that’s real, but I think my husband would still be all, “What the hell is THIS?" Hell, I think that even my toddler daughters would be like, “Ummm... what the HELL, mom?” (How does one explain that to their significant other anyway? Having the name and or face of some dude tattooed on their stomach or leg, or wherever? Anybody want to take this one?)

    Think before you ink.

    I understand that the Twilight Saga is a fantasy; a lot of women out there long to be swept off their feet by some uber-handsome man who will protect them when shit gets real and love them until the end of time. I totally get that. But let’s face facts, okay? Edward and Bella’s relationship is sort of disturbing. I mean, the guy watches her sleep, for crying out loud. If I woke up to find my HUSBAND watching me sleep I would be freaked the fuck out. And that’s the guy who I’ve been with for over 10 years, the father of my children! If he had done that shit when we were first dating, I would not have found it romantic or endearing at all – it would have been stalker territory, and our budding romance would have derailed. Another fact to face is that if a vampire and a werewolf were to ever throw down, there would be total (bloody) chaos.

    Vampire teeth were made for tearing shit up.

    So, those are just some of my thoughts regarding Twilight. I don’t think I will ever understand why people are so into it. It’s just not in my DNA to swoon over this -- I must be defective! If somebody can explain it to me, by all means, go ahead and try. But if you think for a second that I don’t understand it because of a lack of  love in my life, you are an idiot and I don’t want to hear from you -- I experience love every day. So put that in your pipe and smoke it!

    Oh, and on the subject of RPatz as Edward Cullen? One of my homies (the same one who lent me the books, actually...) said it best: “He looks like an ugly, broken foot.”

    Well said, dude.