That has nothing to do with this blogsby. I've just been reading a lot of AV Club, and there's an advertisement for his new Comedy Central show on the site, and I keep staring at his eyes. SO PRETTY. Plus, balding and beardy. 3 STRIKES AND YOU'RE OUT! Or something. I don't know what I'm saying... his eyes distracted me. Man, I'm sad I missed out on the last few episodes of the second season of Archer. I miss that show. I saw the first season on sale at Target for only, like, 10 dollars, but I don't even HAVE that much money. BITCH BE POOR. That's me... I'm the bitch. Someone buy me the first season of Archer!
Anyway. This blogsby has no purpose, so feel free to click away now.
I find it odd that on South Park, Cartman is obsessed with little boys putting their mouths on his cock and/or balls, but in the Jonas Brothers episode, he finds the idea of a girl doing the same thing disgusting. I REALLY hope that this resolves itself in their final season as Cartman being gay. (NOTE: I haven't seen any of the last season. I'M A BAD PERSON. Except that it's a fucking TV show, so I'm not REALLY a bad person. So... fuck you for saying that.) None of this is interesting. My life is not interesting right now. Thus, again, I'll encourage you to click away now.
The word "fingerbang" should be used more. Like, when a movie needs to overdub "fuck" for TV purposes, "fingerbang" should be the go-to word. Or when you did a good job at a task, you could say, "I totally just fingerbanged this blogsby." Well, not this blogsby. But one of my other ones. Like the one about NFL theme songs! That was a good one, although you non-sports lovers probably hated it. Oh GOD, now I'm talking about my previous blogsbies. This is super lame. I should stop... BUT I'M SO FUCKING BORED. Apparently, that means I'll entertain myself by typing random shit. FINGERBANG.
BANGERFING... that makes me think of someone barfing while banging someone. GROSS. And sexy. Grossexy. Worbinations!
[I had a paragraph here about all of the injuries I've piled up since doing the FringeNYC play. It was boring. Suffice it to say, Earlier in the process, I hurt my hip and rolled my ankle, and yesterday I got blisters on my hands because we played on the monkey bars. I'M OLD.]
[And then I watched 5 episodes of South Park back-to-back and forgot I was blogging. You'd think I'd give up on this blogsby, but I ain't no quitter. FUCK THAT.]
A while back I was talking to my friend Mandy (I forgot how to do link things, but here's one of her bloggy things: http://operawife.tumblr.com/) and I were talking about "internet personas." Apparently, even if people know you in real life, they perceive your online persona as removed from who you actually are. I mean, I guess I'm a lot more pessimistic on the internet than I am in real life, but that's because I am usually more funny when I'm angry/annoyed/negative in some way. It's SUPER fucking boring to read someone's Facebook/Twitter/Whatthefuckever when they're all puppies and rainbows and pretty bright lights or some shit. Anyway, not everyone feels this way, and that's fine (I GUESS), but my point is that if you KNOW someone FOR REALSIES, you should understand them enough to not give a shit if their online persona isn't as pleasant as you might like. Just don't follow them, or hide their Facebook statuses, or WHATEVER the FUCK makes you stop being a DOUCHEBOTTLE. Seriously. Also, if you don't know someone that well in real life, and you follow/friend them, then it's your own damn fault if you get offended/put off by something they post on the internet. Uch. People are the WORST. (This paragraph is brought to you by the slashy symbol.)
Okay, so... cauliflower. WHY DOES IT EXIST? (That just made me think of ICP and that stupid song... "Fucking magnets: how do they work?" or whatever that line is. AMAZEGREAT. Here's the video if you've never seen it [AND YOU SHOULD FUCKING SEE IT]: http://youtu.be/_-agl0pOQfs. Also, there's a SNL parody of it, which is pretty funny, but less funny than the original video, but only because the original video isn't TRYING to be funny.) Seriously. My aunt always has cauliflower, someone posted something about eating grilled cauliflower or something that sounded fancy except that it was FUCKING CAULIFLOWER, and... I just don't get it. I understand that I like broccoli, and perhaps there are people who think that broccoli smells like farts, but... DUDE. Cauliflower ACTUALLY smells like farts. It's actively trying to make you think, "Holy shit, my food is farting on me." I don't care if you put some curry on it (and whatever, I'm racist, but curry is also in the fart family of food [ALLITERATION BITCHES]), or add some super-fancy spice on it... it's fucking cauliflower. DISGUSTING. Who eats it? Why do people eat it? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Fuck cauliflower.
So I had to look up that ICP video in order to link it, and I let it play out on mute in a separate tab. When I clicked back over to "X" out of the tab, one of the related links was a clip where apparently ICP was interviewed on the O'Reilly Factor. It took everything in me not to click on it. I talked myself out of it because I knew that I would never respect myself again if I watched it. And after masturbating that one time while watching babies vomit on themselves... let's just say I know something about never respecting myself again.
My boob is hanging out of my sleep shirt. This is not as hot as you think it is. Stay in my shirt, boob! I don't appreciate your judgemental glare. Maybe I should stop being a lazy bitch by showering and putting on real clothes. But real clothes are LAME. Fuck you, real clothes!
I don't find vomit to be funny. I'm all about "dude" humor, but vomit... doesn't do it for me. I don't understand what it is about excessive vomit that makes people laugh. DO PEOPLE LAUGH?! I need to know, because I just don't get it. Why, with all the vomit? Maybe I'm the weird one for not thinking it's funny... it just makes me feel sick when I see a lot of it. Someone, please help me out and explain why vomit is hilarious. I'm losing points with my dude friends because I hate vomit. I CAN'T LOSE MY DUDE FRIEND POINTS. Then I'm just a normal girl, which means I'd have to reevaluate my life, and I'd go into a downward spiral if I started doing that. Vomit = existential crisis. This shit just got deep. (NOTE: After proofreading my blogsby, I see that I made a vomit joke earlier. So now I'm a hypocrite. See? EXISTENTIAL CRISIS.)
Someone needs to give me something to do during the day, so that I don't write rambling shit like this.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
I'm bored.
So this week we started rehearsal for a show that's going to New York. On Monday, we had an intense day physically, which meant that my hip hurt like a BITCH on Tuesday (because I'm old). It was really stiff, and I had a super pimp-limp all day. Anyway, I was running to get back to a movie (I had to pee in the middle of it), and my hip gave out... which means I rolled my ankle. Now, my hip doesn't hurt but my FUCKING ANKLE IS KILLING ME, which is making me pouty and whiny. Not attractive.
I haven't been able to do much today over than RICE my ankle. What's RICE? Rest, ice, compression, and elevation. I'd never heard of it either, until I Googled "rolled ankle" to see if I could do anything other than ice it. Thanks, internet! You're the best friend a girl can have. Diamonds are too mean, in my opinion.
I could have worked on many things that involve me sitting on my ass with my computer, but instead, I did nothing. So it's my own damn fault that I'm bored, and blogging about it. Man... this might be the boringest blogsby I've ever blogged. Blog. BLOG. Blog is a dumb-ass word. Blogsby might be dumber, but it's a close race. (WOAH, what if, like, Nascar had 2 cars, one named Blog and one named Blogsby, and they raced each other? I bet that wouldn't be very interesting. OOH! What if it were llamas instead of race cars? That'd be fun. I'd watch the shit out of that.)
[poop break]
You know what I hate? I fucking hate when I STRONGLY feel like I have to poop, and then I go to the bathroom, but I can't poop. I HATE IT. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE. SO MUCH HATE. And NOW I feel like I have to poop again (I'm off the toilet AND I didn't poop the first time), but I'm not going back into that bathroom until I'm literally about to POOP MY FUCKING PANTS. Stupid digestive system. (I'd like to take a moment here to apologize to Zane Harris, in case he happens to read this.)
Okay, so there's this lady who is, like, in EVERY commercial right now. I tried to Google "woman who is in lots of commercials," but that didn't work. You know what, internet? You're supposed to work all the time. NOT just when I need to fix my rolled ankle. I'M SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. You're like that baby I threw into a dumpster when I was drunk at the prom, and then it grew up into a genius who got a law degree when he was, like, 12, and then he sued me for "dumpster-birthing." Did you know that was a thing? I TOTALLY DIDN'T. Thanks, dumpster-baby lawyer, for RUINING MY LIFE. Just like the internet did. (Just kids, that totally didn't happen. I don't think. Whatever happened to that little dumpster-baby? I hope it's a hobo. Hobos are awesome.)
Anyway, this lady. She's Jack's wife in the Jack in the Box commercials, she talks to some dude on a couch in the Rooms to Go commercials, and she's recently been added to the E-surance commercials... and I'm almost positive she's in one or two other commercials too, but I haven't seen those recently. WHO IS SHE? Why won't the internet tell meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee? It's upsetting to me. AND when I see one of her commercials with someone else in the room, they don't recognize her from other commercials. UGH.
AHMAGAHAHMAHGAHAHMAHGAH. So I wanted to find the videos to show y'all, and I Googled "jack in the box commercial wife," and I FUCKING FOUND HER. Her name is Gillian Vigman. GILLIAN VIGMAN, YOU GUYS. I figured it out. Or rather, the internet did. YAY INTERNET! (I'm sorry I called you a dumpster-baby lawyer. That was mean of me.) She's actually been in a lot of shit, although I can't find anything about the commercials she's in. Well... that's not true. But I can't find anything about the commercials I CARE about. Ah well.
I made up "ah mah gah," and I just realized that having that many "h"s are kind of annoying. Ugh. I don't like looking at all those "AHMAHGAH"s up there. And I'm doing it again. I'm the WORST. Also, I want to start saying/writing "uch" instead of "ugh." It seems it's a more intense "ugh." DUDE, SO MANY QUOTATION MARKS. I hate everything I'm doing right now. I should stop doing all of it. Uch. (See? It works.)
It kinda bothers me more people aren't interested in inviting me places. And... I was gonna go on a diatribe about it, but it all sounded whiny in my head, so I stopped. Hey, friends: if you SAY you wanna hang out with me (or that you miss me), contact me and we'll hang out! It's that easy. If you don't wanna hang out with me, stop saying it to me. It's mean.
My foot is numb. Oooh, what if I AMPUTATED it? That would be a bad idea. But then I could attach a robot wheel to it (like Tracy Jordan in 30 Rock, with his diabetes), and that would be awesome. If I got to be a HUGE theatre director, I could train myself to wheel up thisclose to someone's face if they got mouthy with me. That would be a bad ASS idea. Ew, that looks weird, like it's an ass idea that's bad. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Maybe I should go to sleep.
But seriously... ROBOT WHEEL FOOT.
I haven't been able to do much today over than RICE my ankle. What's RICE? Rest, ice, compression, and elevation. I'd never heard of it either, until I Googled "rolled ankle" to see if I could do anything other than ice it. Thanks, internet! You're the best friend a girl can have. Diamonds are too mean, in my opinion.
I could have worked on many things that involve me sitting on my ass with my computer, but instead, I did nothing. So it's my own damn fault that I'm bored, and blogging about it. Man... this might be the boringest blogsby I've ever blogged. Blog. BLOG. Blog is a dumb-ass word. Blogsby might be dumber, but it's a close race. (WOAH, what if, like, Nascar had 2 cars, one named Blog and one named Blogsby, and they raced each other? I bet that wouldn't be very interesting. OOH! What if it were llamas instead of race cars? That'd be fun. I'd watch the shit out of that.)
[poop break]
You know what I hate? I fucking hate when I STRONGLY feel like I have to poop, and then I go to the bathroom, but I can't poop. I HATE IT. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE. SO MUCH HATE. And NOW I feel like I have to poop again (I'm off the toilet AND I didn't poop the first time), but I'm not going back into that bathroom until I'm literally about to POOP MY FUCKING PANTS. Stupid digestive system. (I'd like to take a moment here to apologize to Zane Harris, in case he happens to read this.)
Okay, so there's this lady who is, like, in EVERY commercial right now. I tried to Google "woman who is in lots of commercials," but that didn't work. You know what, internet? You're supposed to work all the time. NOT just when I need to fix my rolled ankle. I'M SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU. You're like that baby I threw into a dumpster when I was drunk at the prom, and then it grew up into a genius who got a law degree when he was, like, 12, and then he sued me for "dumpster-birthing." Did you know that was a thing? I TOTALLY DIDN'T. Thanks, dumpster-baby lawyer, for RUINING MY LIFE. Just like the internet did. (Just kids, that totally didn't happen. I don't think. Whatever happened to that little dumpster-baby? I hope it's a hobo. Hobos are awesome.)
Anyway, this lady. She's Jack's wife in the Jack in the Box commercials, she talks to some dude on a couch in the Rooms to Go commercials, and she's recently been added to the E-surance commercials... and I'm almost positive she's in one or two other commercials too, but I haven't seen those recently. WHO IS SHE? Why won't the internet tell meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee? It's upsetting to me. AND when I see one of her commercials with someone else in the room, they don't recognize her from other commercials. UGH.
AHMAGAHAHMAHGAHAHMAHGAH. So I wanted to find the videos to show y'all, and I Googled "jack in the box commercial wife," and I FUCKING FOUND HER. Her name is Gillian Vigman. GILLIAN VIGMAN, YOU GUYS. I figured it out. Or rather, the internet did. YAY INTERNET! (I'm sorry I called you a dumpster-baby lawyer. That was mean of me.) She's actually been in a lot of shit, although I can't find anything about the commercials she's in. Well... that's not true. But I can't find anything about the commercials I CARE about. Ah well.
I made up "ah mah gah," and I just realized that having that many "h"s are kind of annoying. Ugh. I don't like looking at all those "AHMAHGAH"s up there. And I'm doing it again. I'm the WORST. Also, I want to start saying/writing "uch" instead of "ugh." It seems it's a more intense "ugh." DUDE, SO MANY QUOTATION MARKS. I hate everything I'm doing right now. I should stop doing all of it. Uch. (See? It works.)
It kinda bothers me more people aren't interested in inviting me places. And... I was gonna go on a diatribe about it, but it all sounded whiny in my head, so I stopped. Hey, friends: if you SAY you wanna hang out with me (or that you miss me), contact me and we'll hang out! It's that easy. If you don't wanna hang out with me, stop saying it to me. It's mean.
My foot is numb. Oooh, what if I AMPUTATED it? That would be a bad idea. But then I could attach a robot wheel to it (like Tracy Jordan in 30 Rock, with his diabetes), and that would be awesome. If I got to be a HUGE theatre director, I could train myself to wheel up thisclose to someone's face if they got mouthy with me. That would be a bad ASS idea. Ew, that looks weird, like it's an ass idea that's bad. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Maybe I should go to sleep.
But seriously... ROBOT WHEEL FOOT.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
PICKLES.
(Post-blogging note: I was gonna wait until later to post this, so people wouldn't know I was up this late, but then I remember a couple people like reading this at work, so I'm posting it now. YES, I'M STILL UP. I WAS WORKING ON IMPORTANT STUFF. But then I started blogging because the important stuff made me crangry. AND NOW, because I made this post-blogging note, everything is oddly spacing itself. UGH UGH UGH. DEATH.)
MOTHERFUCKIN' PICKLES.
So I've been thinking about writing this DIFFERENT blog for days, but I don't write serious blogs, and the subject of my other blog is too serious for my liking. Maybe if I'm feeling especially emo or some shit, I'll write that blog. Until then... we're talkin' pickles, bitches.
I understand that not everyone loves pickles. Or rather, I am aware that not everyone loves pickles... I'm not sure I actually UNDERSTAND it. They're pickles! They're sour (or sour and sweet, if you're into that kind), and crunchy, and juicy, and DELICIOUS. What's not to like?
I'll tell you what's not to like (holy shit, am I about to play devil's advocate on some pickles? I FEEL CONFUSED ABOUT MY LIFE RIGHT NOW): they're not really food. I could eat a whole jar of pickles (and I have, when I was a child), and not feel full. Sure, I'll feel bloated, and if I wiggle around, my belly would make a weird sloshing sound, but I will certainly not be full. On the other hand, if I eat one regular-sized pickle, I feel content. I'm practically Buckwheat at that point. (DAMMIT, LITTLE RASCALS. I wanted to link to a YouTube video of Buckwheat saying "I got a pickle, I got a pickle, I got a pickle HEY HEY HEY HEY." But that doesn't exist. He only says that about a dollar. He STARTS to sing the song about TWO pickles, but clearly, I am about to debunk the want of two pickles. SIGH. Blogging about pickles is hard.) Now if I have more than one regular-sized pickle? (This includes giant pickles, which I thought I loved, and am now in a world of turmoil because of my pickle issues.) (AH MAH GAH TASHINA STOP WITH THE PARENTHESES AND JUST TELL YOUR FUCKING STORY.) (SHUT UP, PARALLEL UNIVERSE TASHINA, BECAUSE PEOPLE WHO READ YOUR BLOGSBY KNOW YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH PARENTHESIZING... AND MAKING UP WORDS... AND CAPS LOCKING EVERYTHING.)
(Yeesh. Now I have to start a new paragraph, what with all the sidethoughts and whatnot.)
What was I talking about? Oh right... so what if I have more than one regular-sized pickle? Well, what happens is that I am happy for a little longer than a normal person would be... and then the pickle sadness sets in. "What is pickle sadness?" you ask (or you don't, in which case... stop reading this blogsby, dummy). Pickle sadness is that point where your tummy starts to realize how much acid that pickle has in it, and your mouth starts to realize how sour the pickle is, and your intestines start to realize how it wants to poop. But if you're like me, you don't want to waste a pickle, so you force yourself to eat it. It is uncomfortable, and you can't have another pickle for DAYS. Not even on your sandwich. Trust me. I know about this.
Another issue I have with pickles is the sweet and sour pickle. I mean... WHAT IS THAT?! Who thought to themselves, "I know people love pickles, but what if we made them sweet as well? It's like a SweeTart, but grosser!" Also: UGH. I just Googled sweet and sour pickles, and all that came up were recipes for them. I DON'T WANT A DAMN RECIPE FOR AN ABOMINATION. Also, why are they sometimes called "bread and butter"? What does bread and butter have to do with sweet and sour? I DON'T GET IT. Fuck you, sweet and sour pickles. Also, fuck you grocery stores, for sometimes stocking things in the wrong place, and then I'm not paying attention when I buy pickles, and I don't pay attention when I open them, and I put a pickle in my mouth only to find out it's a fucking SWEET AND SOUR PICKLE. (Yes, I realize that all of that is my fault. But my hatred of sweet and sour pickles is so deep that I refuse to take responsibility for any of that happening. I believe it was the sweet and sour pickle dwarves trying to put a curse on me. BUT I DIDN'T SWALLOW ANY OF THAT PICKLE, FUCKERS. YOU CAN'T CATCH ME.)
And now... I have a weird caveat to my sweet and sour hate. Lookadis: http://www.avclub.com/articles/koolaid-pickles,32402/. At first, I only read this out of curiosity; I had no desire to ever make them. But when I read that article, and they talked about how the pickles weren't actually SWEET, I became a bit more intrigued. Come on, I have to have at least one pickle lover out there. Preferably one who has money (because I don't). Let's (and by "let's," I mean you) buy pickles and kool aid mix (I can buy THAT! IT'S CHEAP!) and make them! It'll be fun! Or disgusting. I dunno. But I'm fascinated by kool aid pickles. SOMEONE DO IT WITH ME. DON'T MAKE ME START KANYEING ALL OF MY BLOG. (If you don't know what that means... I can't even begin to understand you. Again, you should probably stop reading my blogsby.)
Last pickle thought: for those of you who don't know, I have a strong attachment to eating pickles slices (and usually, I just cut a whole pickle INTO slices) on various chips. Pringles were an initial favorite, although I also like Ruffles and various tortilla chips. However, I've recently discovered the magic of the mini tortilla chip rounds - they are almost always the EXACT size of the pickle slice, and it is like magic in my mouth. I could eat that shit forever. However, if you buy a jar of hamburger slices, Pringles are definitely the way to go. They both have oblong shapes, and complement each other well. Thus endeth my praise of pickle/chip combos.
Random Thoughts:
Remember when this post was about pickles?
MOTHERFUCKIN' PICKLES.
So I've been thinking about writing this DIFFERENT blog for days, but I don't write serious blogs, and the subject of my other blog is too serious for my liking. Maybe if I'm feeling especially emo or some shit, I'll write that blog. Until then... we're talkin' pickles, bitches.
I understand that not everyone loves pickles. Or rather, I am aware that not everyone loves pickles... I'm not sure I actually UNDERSTAND it. They're pickles! They're sour (or sour and sweet, if you're into that kind), and crunchy, and juicy, and DELICIOUS. What's not to like?
I'll tell you what's not to like (holy shit, am I about to play devil's advocate on some pickles? I FEEL CONFUSED ABOUT MY LIFE RIGHT NOW): they're not really food. I could eat a whole jar of pickles (and I have, when I was a child), and not feel full. Sure, I'll feel bloated, and if I wiggle around, my belly would make a weird sloshing sound, but I will certainly not be full. On the other hand, if I eat one regular-sized pickle, I feel content. I'm practically Buckwheat at that point. (DAMMIT, LITTLE RASCALS. I wanted to link to a YouTube video of Buckwheat saying "I got a pickle, I got a pickle, I got a pickle HEY HEY HEY HEY." But that doesn't exist. He only says that about a dollar. He STARTS to sing the song about TWO pickles, but clearly, I am about to debunk the want of two pickles. SIGH. Blogging about pickles is hard.) Now if I have more than one regular-sized pickle? (This includes giant pickles, which I thought I loved, and am now in a world of turmoil because of my pickle issues.) (AH MAH GAH TASHINA STOP WITH THE PARENTHESES AND JUST TELL YOUR FUCKING STORY.) (SHUT UP, PARALLEL UNIVERSE TASHINA, BECAUSE PEOPLE WHO READ YOUR BLOGSBY KNOW YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH PARENTHESIZING... AND MAKING UP WORDS... AND CAPS LOCKING EVERYTHING.)
(Yeesh. Now I have to start a new paragraph, what with all the sidethoughts and whatnot.)
What was I talking about? Oh right... so what if I have more than one regular-sized pickle? Well, what happens is that I am happy for a little longer than a normal person would be... and then the pickle sadness sets in. "What is pickle sadness?" you ask (or you don't, in which case... stop reading this blogsby, dummy). Pickle sadness is that point where your tummy starts to realize how much acid that pickle has in it, and your mouth starts to realize how sour the pickle is, and your intestines start to realize how it wants to poop. But if you're like me, you don't want to waste a pickle, so you force yourself to eat it. It is uncomfortable, and you can't have another pickle for DAYS. Not even on your sandwich. Trust me. I know about this.
Another issue I have with pickles is the sweet and sour pickle. I mean... WHAT IS THAT?! Who thought to themselves, "I know people love pickles, but what if we made them sweet as well? It's like a SweeTart, but grosser!" Also: UGH. I just Googled sweet and sour pickles, and all that came up were recipes for them. I DON'T WANT A DAMN RECIPE FOR AN ABOMINATION. Also, why are they sometimes called "bread and butter"? What does bread and butter have to do with sweet and sour? I DON'T GET IT. Fuck you, sweet and sour pickles. Also, fuck you grocery stores, for sometimes stocking things in the wrong place, and then I'm not paying attention when I buy pickles, and I don't pay attention when I open them, and I put a pickle in my mouth only to find out it's a fucking SWEET AND SOUR PICKLE. (Yes, I realize that all of that is my fault. But my hatred of sweet and sour pickles is so deep that I refuse to take responsibility for any of that happening. I believe it was the sweet and sour pickle dwarves trying to put a curse on me. BUT I DIDN'T SWALLOW ANY OF THAT PICKLE, FUCKERS. YOU CAN'T CATCH ME.)
And now... I have a weird caveat to my sweet and sour hate. Lookadis: http://www.avclub.com/articles/koolaid-pickles,32402/. At first, I only read this out of curiosity; I had no desire to ever make them. But when I read that article, and they talked about how the pickles weren't actually SWEET, I became a bit more intrigued. Come on, I have to have at least one pickle lover out there. Preferably one who has money (because I don't). Let's (and by "let's," I mean you) buy pickles and kool aid mix (I can buy THAT! IT'S CHEAP!) and make them! It'll be fun! Or disgusting. I dunno. But I'm fascinated by kool aid pickles. SOMEONE DO IT WITH ME. DON'T MAKE ME START KANYEING ALL OF MY BLOG. (If you don't know what that means... I can't even begin to understand you. Again, you should probably stop reading my blogsby.)
Last pickle thought: for those of you who don't know, I have a strong attachment to eating pickles slices (and usually, I just cut a whole pickle INTO slices) on various chips. Pringles were an initial favorite, although I also like Ruffles and various tortilla chips. However, I've recently discovered the magic of the mini tortilla chip rounds - they are almost always the EXACT size of the pickle slice, and it is like magic in my mouth. I could eat that shit forever. However, if you buy a jar of hamburger slices, Pringles are definitely the way to go. They both have oblong shapes, and complement each other well. Thus endeth my praise of pickle/chip combos.
Random Thoughts:
- I don't understand how people can go to sleep with their TVs super loud. I do rather like falling asleep to the TV, but if it's at a level that could wake a deaf person, that's gonna make it really hard for me to fall asleep. HOW DO PEOPLE DO IT?
- As some of you may know, I have a weakness for crime procedurals. Because of that, I have been watching "Law and Order: LA" (which the network wanted to call "LOLA," but which I wanted to call "LandOLA" because I called the OG "Law and Order" "LandO" [Thanks, friend who gave that to me years ago] and I refuse to let go of that) and trying to support it because NBC sucks and CANCELLED OG LandO WHEN IT WAS ACTUALLY PRETTY FUCKING GOOD IN THE LAST SEASON. Anyway, LandOLA sucks legitimately despite the acting of Alfred Molina and Terence Howard... well, and most of the cast, actually. The weakest link on that show, acting-wise, was Peter Coyote (I know, right?!?), and he wasn't on that much. Everyone else was actually pretty solid. The bald dude with the mustache (who then shaved his mustache after [SPOILER ALERT BUT HOLY SHIT I HOPE YOU DON'T CARE] Skeet Ulrich got killed [not like this, but because I hate Skeet Ulrich {and actually HE was the worst actor on the show but he's so bland that I almost didn't notice him until he died} and love seeing him incessantly fake-die, I'll post it anyway and thank Irvin: http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lk61ueSq6f1qa1xnko1_500.gif], and I know Skeet was his partner but DUDE the guy's name in real life was Skeet and your mustache was awesome and I might irrationally blame you shaving it for the show getting cancelled) is pretty fucking funny while also have the proper level of gravitas, and I hope he gets cast in something soon. ANYWAY, the point is that I understand why the show got cancelled. The stories were lame, particularly in the second (revamped) half of the season, and it relied too much on its "OMG we're in LA so let's do faux-Hollywood stories" bullshit. Snooze. Wake me up when you bring Linus Roache and Sam Waterston back into my life.
- NBC does suck, but I do appreciate them keeping low-rated comedies on the air that I love. "30 Rock" and "Community" are pretty great, but I have no qualms in saying that "Parks and Recreation" is the best comedy on TV. Period. The end. If you're not watching it, I'll just say that you don't even need to start from the beginning. Read a synopsis of the characters and pick up on season 2. Season 1 isn't amazing (although it's totally worth watching AFTER season 2 makes you fall in love with the characters - and I'd actually say to go back to season 1 after the middle of season 2 because if you get all the way through season 2, season 1 will just make you feel weird), but the rest of the show is. WATCH IT. LOVE IT. BE IT.
- I watch "Cougar Town." I'm not ashamed. It is ridiculous, and trashy, and also Courtney Cox's and Crista Miller's faces look like they got into a car accident with some Botox needles... but it's still pretty fucking funny. I legitimately laughed out loud at 2 different lines from that show tonight. (For example, Busy Phillips saying to Lou Diamond Phillips [YES, LOU DIAMOND FUCKING PHILLIPS]: “I don’t know exactly what your race is, but I’m into it in a big way.”) AND LOOK. A Shawshank recreation from the first season: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMRUx6Lckj0. IT LOVES DUDES TOO! Kinda. Anyway, it at least loves drinking... A LOT. And we can all get behind that, right? Ignore the name. Or don't, because saying you like "Cougar Town" makes you sound ironic, and seeing as our culture is being ruined by stupid ironic hipsters saying stupid ironic hipster things... saying you like "Cougar Town" squarely puts you in that corner. Ironically.
- OH! Hipsters. This reminds me that you should also be watching "Happy Endings," another show on ABC. It's made for 20-somethings of all ages. Trust me. I can't even, with this show. You just need to watch it. But they have a Nerf gun ep, a hipster ep, a Hitler/coming out ep, and other things that you can TOTES relate to. TOTES. Do it.
Holy shit, that is a lot of random thoughts... most of them about TV. I think I have a problem. SOMEONE GET ME A JOB CARING ABOUT TV. OR ENTERTAINMENT IN GENERAL. I could blog all day about shit like that, and be just as funny as people on snarky entertainment sites (the point being that most of those people aren't all that funny). Plus, all those people are, like, 23 or some ridiculous shit, so I should DEFINITELY HAVE THEIR JOBS BECAUSE I'M OLDER. GIVE THEM. GIVE ME ALL THE JOBS.
Remember when this post was about pickles?
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Don't be a Secret Bitch.
I'm increasingly getting annoyed at a certain type of person. I've encountered many of them of my life, as I'm sure other people have as well. (Man, is that ever a Peter King sentence.) The type of person I'm talking about is the Secret Bitch. Now, before I continue, I will state that the same things I'm about to say also apply to certain men. Some may call those people Secret Assholes, but I don't believe in gender discrimination in my curse words, so they're all Secret Bitches to me.
So now, I will draft an open letter to Secret Bitches:
Hey, Secret Bitch. How's it going? Secretly bitchily (woah, double adverb), I'd guess. Here's the thing: I am a bitch. Hell... I am a Bitch. So what's the difference between you and me? I'm open and honest about being a bitch. I understand that my bitchiness prevents certain people from liking me. Some perceive my bitchiness as a character flaw. I'm fine with that. I enjoy being a Bitch, although I'm also aware of when I step over the line. (Doesn't mean I take my "over the line" action back, but... that's a blogsby for another day.)
You, however, are the exact description of my title: Secret Bitch. You have an uncanny ability to be really nice and considerate at first, and often seem like you're a good listener. But once you're "in" with people, the real you comes out. Conversations cannot last 3 minutes without you interrupting to make the focus come back to you. Slowly, but surely, the people with whom you've entrenched yourself are too far in to do anything about it. We just have to sit there while you constantly commandeer the conversation into whatever boring story you want to tell.
I mean... we thought you were cool! Even out-and-out bitches (like myself) are cool sometimes. But you... you go from being cool for the first month or two to being consistently LAME and SELFISH and SECRETLY BITCHY. For shame, Secret Bitch. For shame.
Here's my point (do I have one? I don't even know anymore, honestly, but this is a letter, so I suppose I should act like I do): No matter what kind of bitch (or Bitch) you are, you should always be aware that no one wants to hear you talk all the time. No one thinks you're cool all the time. No one thinks you're right all the time. No one wants to hear you talk about how cool and/or right you are all the time. Except you. And if that's the case, then maybe you should just stay in your apartment and talk to yourself.
Clearly, you have the ability to understand sharing in conversations (see: the first month or two of meeting someone). WHY is it, after you know someone, that you think those basic skills of communication can be eliminated? YOU HAVE TO SHARE. Even if you think someone else's conversation is super boring, ALLOW for them to finish their story. Then you can go on and on about some lame thing no one ELSE cares about. This is the "magic" of being social - no one wants to hear anyone else's story, and each person wants to tell his/her story. Live with that, and learn how to share the limelight.
Otherwise, my out-and-out bitchiness will erupt in an inappropriate way, and it'll make everyone feel uncomfortable. Except for me, of course, because I DON'T GIVE A SHIT.
So now, I will draft an open letter to Secret Bitches:
Hey, Secret Bitch. How's it going? Secretly bitchily (woah, double adverb), I'd guess. Here's the thing: I am a bitch. Hell... I am a Bitch. So what's the difference between you and me? I'm open and honest about being a bitch. I understand that my bitchiness prevents certain people from liking me. Some perceive my bitchiness as a character flaw. I'm fine with that. I enjoy being a Bitch, although I'm also aware of when I step over the line. (Doesn't mean I take my "over the line" action back, but... that's a blogsby for another day.)
You, however, are the exact description of my title: Secret Bitch. You have an uncanny ability to be really nice and considerate at first, and often seem like you're a good listener. But once you're "in" with people, the real you comes out. Conversations cannot last 3 minutes without you interrupting to make the focus come back to you. Slowly, but surely, the people with whom you've entrenched yourself are too far in to do anything about it. We just have to sit there while you constantly commandeer the conversation into whatever boring story you want to tell.
I mean... we thought you were cool! Even out-and-out bitches (like myself) are cool sometimes. But you... you go from being cool for the first month or two to being consistently LAME and SELFISH and SECRETLY BITCHY. For shame, Secret Bitch. For shame.
Here's my point (do I have one? I don't even know anymore, honestly, but this is a letter, so I suppose I should act like I do): No matter what kind of bitch (or Bitch) you are, you should always be aware that no one wants to hear you talk all the time. No one thinks you're cool all the time. No one thinks you're right all the time. No one wants to hear you talk about how cool and/or right you are all the time. Except you. And if that's the case, then maybe you should just stay in your apartment and talk to yourself.
Clearly, you have the ability to understand sharing in conversations (see: the first month or two of meeting someone). WHY is it, after you know someone, that you think those basic skills of communication can be eliminated? YOU HAVE TO SHARE. Even if you think someone else's conversation is super boring, ALLOW for them to finish their story. Then you can go on and on about some lame thing no one ELSE cares about. This is the "magic" of being social - no one wants to hear anyone else's story, and each person wants to tell his/her story. Live with that, and learn how to share the limelight.
Otherwise, my out-and-out bitchiness will erupt in an inappropriate way, and it'll make everyone feel uncomfortable. Except for me, of course, because I DON'T GIVE A SHIT.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Things that I'm over...
I feel like I should change that title. It's grammatically weird, and I feel like I could be wittier. If, by the end of this post, I change it, I'll come back up here with an "EDIT" in brackets that explains what it used to be, and why I changed it to what it is. Because everyone is clammoring (clamoring? I see that spell check says that's right, and I also realize that I could go back and fix my spelling error, but "clammoring" looks like some kind of AWFUL yet AWESOME sexual act, like a vagina ATTACKING YOUR FUCKING FACE, so I'll keep it) to know my innermost thoughts. If you disagree, then I'm not quite sure why you're reading my blogsby.
Anyway, this post is, in a way, dedicated to Charlie Sheen. (Man, imagine that I still have this blogsby in 20 years [do you think we'll even HAVE computers like these in 20 years? I bet no matter what we have, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING PERSON will have a blog - sorry, I mean a blogsby, and if I have my way, ALL YOU BITCHES will be calling them blogsbies], and I see the sentence I just wrote [at the beginning of this paragraph, if you were wondering], and I have no recollection of why Charlie Sheen was so big in early 2011. That would be awesome. But if there's one thing my brain retains, it's useless pop culture trivia. I'd bet money that I could be 70 years old, and be able to recall Charlie Sheen's tiger-blooded idiocy. Sigh. Sometimes, I am not proud of myself. [Also? Most of this blogsby, at this point, has been in parentheses or brackets. This does not bode well. {OR DOES IT BODE AWESOME?!}])
(And now I have to start a new paragraph because that got so out of hand.) Everyone seems to be falling into one of these camps: 1) they think Charlie Sheen is awesome, although obviously screwed up, and are amused by what he says, 2) they think Charlie Sheen is obnoxious, and obviously screwed up, and want him put away somewhere so they don't have to listen to it anymore. Somehow, I fall into both categories. I don't want to explain it. I'm a dichotomy (wrapped in an enigma and covered in a blahblahblah I'M SO FUCKING WITTY). The point is, all of this Sheeniness (OH GOD that word bothers me to no end, because my family used to call me Shina [WHY AM I TELLING YOU THIS I SHOULD JUST GO TO BED BUT I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING ON THINGS AND MY BRAIN IS BEING FULL OF CRAZY {but not Sheen crazy} SO I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD TO WRITE A FUCKING BLOGSBY] but everyone would spell it Sheena, and now I just though of myself being Charlie Sheen and I think I'm having a brain aneuryism) made me think about all of the "things" that I'm over. Which, as of now, are really two things. But I'm sure I'll think of more as I write. Because, as you can tell, I'm clearly of sound mind right now. Can't is the cancer of happen, and all that.
Anyway. Here we go.
Covers of "Creep" by Radiohead. This might lose me friends... but I can't help it. I mean, I've heard great covers of that song. And I feel like I could easily argue that I'd rather people cover THAT song well than any other Radiohead song badly. But... it's not true. If you're a good musician (and those of you out there who know me, and who cover "Creep," fall into that category), then I'd hope you know more Radiohead songs. Because they have some that would be AWESOME to cover. I mean, I'll take a fucking cover of "High and Dry" at this point. QUIT PLAYING "CREEP." Please. Go find a way to make an acoustic version of a song off Kid A. Seriously - I dare you. I can think of two songs on that album right now that could rock that shit. Let's change it up, folks. (For the record, Brittany - I feel as though you will take this personally. It's not personal. Your version is awesome. But I've heard, literally, 5 other people cover that fucking song since you have. So now, even your version is tainted for me. Blame all of the other people for ruining your pretty, pretty cover.)
Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Oh look! Another that might lose me friends. And I'll start it in a similar way - I mean, I like the show. But it's not THAT fucking great. I've never really gotten the intense, ass-devouring love of Aaron Sorkin. (Robert Evans time - if you don't know what that means, look it up. I'm took lazy to link things.) Did I enjoy The Social Network? Yes. Was Sports Night the shit? OF COURSE. Did The West Wing make me think about important things, while also making me tired at the same time? You betcha. I'm just saying, I think he's a great writer, but I also think he's a bit of a self-important ass... which doesn't make him all that different from other Hollywoodies (pretty sure I didn't make up that term, but it sounds stupid enough to be mine), but I don't like those people's writing either. Correction: I actually DO like Sorkin's writing (obviously; see above), I just don't see what all the hoopla is all about. (Sidenote: "hoopla" was used in a Wheel of Fortune puzzle today, and I decided that I wanted to use it more in every day life. Also, I need to stop it with the sidenotes. However, does it make it better when I actually ALERT you to the fact that it's a sidenote? And YES, I know I should write it "side note," but I like to think of it as one word in my head, so one word it will be. And ALSO YES, I watch Wheel of Fortune because IT'S FUCKING AWESOME. I also watch Jeopardy twice a day, so my mind is like a steel trap. Or a sad mid-40s housewife.)
SIGH. Tashina... stay on track.
The point is, with Studio 60, so many people seem to blame 30 Rock for its demise. Let's be clear: 30 Rock's ratings weren't GREAT either, but they were higher than Studio 60. Or, at least they stayed steady, while Studio 60's rapidly declined (until the very end, when they rose up incrementally). My biggest problem with Studio 60 lies (lied? I mean, I feel like present tense is fine because you can still watch the show on DVD) with the sketches they presented on the show within a show. They just... aren't that funny. That Gilbert & Sullivan thing was mildly amusing to me, because I know who the fuck G&S are. (See? I abbreviated it, that's how you know I know who they are.) But even so, I wondered how many people would actually get it. And let's be clear, I LOVE being able to watch shows and understand things that no one else gets. (This usually happens because I Google it, and pretend like I already knew it. I am a fraud. But I know things! Kinda!) This is the mark of being a pretentious asshole, which I enjoy being. But that ONE sketch is just the tip of the iceberg. The reason 30 Rock sketches work is that they show so little of them. You get just enough to know if it's ridiculous, or dumb, or whatever the writers want you to think of that sketch. But with Studio 60, it's an entire show based on two brilliant writers who are too good for people to understand, and they come back to save their old show, and everything is supposed to be genius. But it's not, and it's never admitted that it's not. (I mean, fine, they did sometimes, but they often put up a lot of shitty sketches that they thought were awesome.) While I don't think that's why the show got canned, that's certainly why I don't LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE it. I like it. I'll probably own it on DVD one day. But I'll probably be fast-forwarding past a lot of those sketches when/if I watch it again.
And these are my two things that I'm over. I guess I didn't come up with a better blogsby title. Although I'm tempted to put a moratorium on the word "blogsby" because I'd bet that it's something a lot of OTHER people are over.
Oh, hey! Aaron Sorkin used to do crack. Charlie Sheen is clearly on some form of crack-like substance (even if that substance is "his brain"). We have come full circle.
(Also, I know that prepositions aren't supposed to be on the ends of sentences, but the English language has given up on the internet, so I'm giving up on the English language. DEALWITHIT. No spaces, motherfuckers.)
Anyway, this post is, in a way, dedicated to Charlie Sheen. (Man, imagine that I still have this blogsby in 20 years [do you think we'll even HAVE computers like these in 20 years? I bet no matter what we have, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING PERSON will have a blog - sorry, I mean a blogsby, and if I have my way, ALL YOU BITCHES will be calling them blogsbies], and I see the sentence I just wrote [at the beginning of this paragraph, if you were wondering], and I have no recollection of why Charlie Sheen was so big in early 2011. That would be awesome. But if there's one thing my brain retains, it's useless pop culture trivia. I'd bet money that I could be 70 years old, and be able to recall Charlie Sheen's tiger-blooded idiocy. Sigh. Sometimes, I am not proud of myself. [Also? Most of this blogsby, at this point, has been in parentheses or brackets. This does not bode well. {OR DOES IT BODE AWESOME?!}])
(And now I have to start a new paragraph because that got so out of hand.) Everyone seems to be falling into one of these camps: 1) they think Charlie Sheen is awesome, although obviously screwed up, and are amused by what he says, 2) they think Charlie Sheen is obnoxious, and obviously screwed up, and want him put away somewhere so they don't have to listen to it anymore. Somehow, I fall into both categories. I don't want to explain it. I'm a dichotomy (wrapped in an enigma and covered in a blahblahblah I'M SO FUCKING WITTY). The point is, all of this Sheeniness (OH GOD that word bothers me to no end, because my family used to call me Shina [WHY AM I TELLING YOU THIS I SHOULD JUST GO TO BED BUT I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING ON THINGS AND MY BRAIN IS BEING FULL OF CRAZY {but not Sheen crazy} SO I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD TO WRITE A FUCKING BLOGSBY] but everyone would spell it Sheena, and now I just though of myself being Charlie Sheen and I think I'm having a brain aneuryism) made me think about all of the "things" that I'm over. Which, as of now, are really two things. But I'm sure I'll think of more as I write. Because, as you can tell, I'm clearly of sound mind right now. Can't is the cancer of happen, and all that.
Anyway. Here we go.
Covers of "Creep" by Radiohead. This might lose me friends... but I can't help it. I mean, I've heard great covers of that song. And I feel like I could easily argue that I'd rather people cover THAT song well than any other Radiohead song badly. But... it's not true. If you're a good musician (and those of you out there who know me, and who cover "Creep," fall into that category), then I'd hope you know more Radiohead songs. Because they have some that would be AWESOME to cover. I mean, I'll take a fucking cover of "High and Dry" at this point. QUIT PLAYING "CREEP." Please. Go find a way to make an acoustic version of a song off Kid A. Seriously - I dare you. I can think of two songs on that album right now that could rock that shit. Let's change it up, folks. (For the record, Brittany - I feel as though you will take this personally. It's not personal. Your version is awesome. But I've heard, literally, 5 other people cover that fucking song since you have. So now, even your version is tainted for me. Blame all of the other people for ruining your pretty, pretty cover.)
Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Oh look! Another that might lose me friends. And I'll start it in a similar way - I mean, I like the show. But it's not THAT fucking great. I've never really gotten the intense, ass-devouring love of Aaron Sorkin. (Robert Evans time - if you don't know what that means, look it up. I'm took lazy to link things.) Did I enjoy The Social Network? Yes. Was Sports Night the shit? OF COURSE. Did The West Wing make me think about important things, while also making me tired at the same time? You betcha. I'm just saying, I think he's a great writer, but I also think he's a bit of a self-important ass... which doesn't make him all that different from other Hollywoodies (pretty sure I didn't make up that term, but it sounds stupid enough to be mine), but I don't like those people's writing either. Correction: I actually DO like Sorkin's writing (obviously; see above), I just don't see what all the hoopla is all about. (Sidenote: "hoopla" was used in a Wheel of Fortune puzzle today, and I decided that I wanted to use it more in every day life. Also, I need to stop it with the sidenotes. However, does it make it better when I actually ALERT you to the fact that it's a sidenote? And YES, I know I should write it "side note," but I like to think of it as one word in my head, so one word it will be. And ALSO YES, I watch Wheel of Fortune because IT'S FUCKING AWESOME. I also watch Jeopardy twice a day, so my mind is like a steel trap. Or a sad mid-40s housewife.)
SIGH. Tashina... stay on track.
The point is, with Studio 60, so many people seem to blame 30 Rock for its demise. Let's be clear: 30 Rock's ratings weren't GREAT either, but they were higher than Studio 60. Or, at least they stayed steady, while Studio 60's rapidly declined (until the very end, when they rose up incrementally). My biggest problem with Studio 60 lies (lied? I mean, I feel like present tense is fine because you can still watch the show on DVD) with the sketches they presented on the show within a show. They just... aren't that funny. That Gilbert & Sullivan thing was mildly amusing to me, because I know who the fuck G&S are. (See? I abbreviated it, that's how you know I know who they are.) But even so, I wondered how many people would actually get it. And let's be clear, I LOVE being able to watch shows and understand things that no one else gets. (This usually happens because I Google it, and pretend like I already knew it. I am a fraud. But I know things! Kinda!) This is the mark of being a pretentious asshole, which I enjoy being. But that ONE sketch is just the tip of the iceberg. The reason 30 Rock sketches work is that they show so little of them. You get just enough to know if it's ridiculous, or dumb, or whatever the writers want you to think of that sketch. But with Studio 60, it's an entire show based on two brilliant writers who are too good for people to understand, and they come back to save their old show, and everything is supposed to be genius. But it's not, and it's never admitted that it's not. (I mean, fine, they did sometimes, but they often put up a lot of shitty sketches that they thought were awesome.) While I don't think that's why the show got canned, that's certainly why I don't LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE it. I like it. I'll probably own it on DVD one day. But I'll probably be fast-forwarding past a lot of those sketches when/if I watch it again.
And these are my two things that I'm over. I guess I didn't come up with a better blogsby title. Although I'm tempted to put a moratorium on the word "blogsby" because I'd bet that it's something a lot of OTHER people are over.
Oh, hey! Aaron Sorkin used to do crack. Charlie Sheen is clearly on some form of crack-like substance (even if that substance is "his brain"). We have come full circle.
(Also, I know that prepositions aren't supposed to be on the ends of sentences, but the English language has given up on the internet, so I'm giving up on the English language. DEALWITHIT. No spaces, motherfuckers.)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Super Bowl Week #3: SUPER BOWL
Yeah, my title is redundant. DEAL WITH IT. Also, I clearly fell down on my "blog-a-day" hope for this week. You can deal with THAT, as well. I love saying "deal with it," and here's part of the reason why...
Anyway. That's not football-related. So since I've waited until now to write another blog, I'll just go ahead and talk about the actual game. Fun fact: Did you know that most commercials or advertisements or whatever are not allowed to use any NFL-related terms or paraphernalia, including the phrases "Super Bowl" and "Super Sunday"? That's why people say "the big game" a lot. FUN FOOTBALL FACT!
If you didn't already know, I'm rooting for the Packers in the Super Bowl. Despite my predilection for hating people based on their off-field shenanigans, this has nothing to do with Roethlisberger (allegedly) manhandling a bunch of Southern college girls. I never liked the guy much in the first place, and I would be lying if I said that I don't use his personal issues to fuel my dislike. But even then, I can't bring myself to completely hate him. Yes, I'm sure that if I met him, I'd hate the shit out of him. (I wouldn't LITERALLY hate the shit out of him - I don't know if it's possible, but if it is, I'd only want to do it if I wasn't near the person whose shit I was hating out. The last thing you wanna do around someone you hate is deal with their literal shit.) I don't appreciate anyone (allegedly) doing immeasurably fucked up things to anyone, but this season, I've realized that I can hate someone off-field while still liking their skills on-field. This is what Michael Vick has done to us. (I realize that there's a complete possibility that Vick was rehabilitated in jail, so maybe "hate" is too strong of a word for him. And YES, I know that Lawrence Taylor did this too back in the day [and is still doing it, that son of a bitch] while being amazing on the field, but I didn't give much of a shit to football back then, so DEAL WITH IT. You can ALSO deal with the fact that I know other people besides LT did that, but this is not what this blogsby is about, so stop distracting me, dammit!)
The Steelers and Packers are 1 and 2 in defense, respectively. Thus, it's making everyone argue that the game will be won on defense. First of all, it's said that the game will be won on defense EVERY DAMN YEAR. Why is this game any different? Well, actually, it IS different because you're deal with the top 2 ranked defenses in the league. Which means it seems a thousand times more likely that the game will be won on offense. And... duh, the Packers are better than the Steelers, especially if the Steelers can't use Pouncey. They have no real center, so Green Bay is going to MURDER them.
This is my opinion. I'm sure people have others... but they're wrong. I'm just sayin'.
More importantly (WARNING: girl alert!), the Packers will win because of Aaron Rodgers' magic. (You know, I have the hardest time with pluralizing names that end in "s." I know that you can either just do the apostrophe or adding another "s" on the end, and I've lived my whole life doing the extra "s." Now I'm in a tailspin because I've gotten lazy, and I don't want to do the "s" anymore, but I also don't want to cave in to societal norms. MY GRAMMATICAL LIFE IS IN A TAILSPIN.)
"I'm sorry," you might be saying, "did you just say MAGIC?! Are you on crack?" Yes, I did, and yes, I am. Aaron Rodgers is my crack, bitches. His aura is filled with a sparkly yellow that overwhelms all of his opponents. His spirit unleashes adorable puppies into the psyches of the defense until they are blindly groping about, sometimes hitting their own players. He's only gotten sacks (and two concussions) this year because the other guy thought that they were saving him from a den of man-hungry lions. He's still working on his magic (clearly, he'd like to not be sacked at all), but give him another year, and he'll be THE MOST MAGICAL BEING IN ALL OF THE NFL. He's working on his laser-beam eyes, but right now they're like a laser pen whose batteries are almost out. This is probably best, since the person most likely to be on the receiving end of those laser eyes is Brett Favre, who is planning on going into hiding until after all 50 of his former masseuses are done filing charges against him.
So there ya go - the Packers will win, and Aaron Rodgers is magic. Also, Mike Tomlin is badass, and it makes me sad to go against him, but his magic isn't as powerful. Everyone knows that Omar Epps can only do so much for you.
Anyway. That's not football-related. So since I've waited until now to write another blog, I'll just go ahead and talk about the actual game. Fun fact: Did you know that most commercials or advertisements or whatever are not allowed to use any NFL-related terms or paraphernalia, including the phrases "Super Bowl" and "Super Sunday"? That's why people say "the big game" a lot. FUN FOOTBALL FACT!
If you didn't already know, I'm rooting for the Packers in the Super Bowl. Despite my predilection for hating people based on their off-field shenanigans, this has nothing to do with Roethlisberger (allegedly) manhandling a bunch of Southern college girls. I never liked the guy much in the first place, and I would be lying if I said that I don't use his personal issues to fuel my dislike. But even then, I can't bring myself to completely hate him. Yes, I'm sure that if I met him, I'd hate the shit out of him. (I wouldn't LITERALLY hate the shit out of him - I don't know if it's possible, but if it is, I'd only want to do it if I wasn't near the person whose shit I was hating out. The last thing you wanna do around someone you hate is deal with their literal shit.) I don't appreciate anyone (allegedly) doing immeasurably fucked up things to anyone, but this season, I've realized that I can hate someone off-field while still liking their skills on-field. This is what Michael Vick has done to us. (I realize that there's a complete possibility that Vick was rehabilitated in jail, so maybe "hate" is too strong of a word for him. And YES, I know that Lawrence Taylor did this too back in the day [and is still doing it, that son of a bitch] while being amazing on the field, but I didn't give much of a shit to football back then, so DEAL WITH IT. You can ALSO deal with the fact that I know other people besides LT did that, but this is not what this blogsby is about, so stop distracting me, dammit!)
The Steelers and Packers are 1 and 2 in defense, respectively. Thus, it's making everyone argue that the game will be won on defense. First of all, it's said that the game will be won on defense EVERY DAMN YEAR. Why is this game any different? Well, actually, it IS different because you're deal with the top 2 ranked defenses in the league. Which means it seems a thousand times more likely that the game will be won on offense. And... duh, the Packers are better than the Steelers, especially if the Steelers can't use Pouncey. They have no real center, so Green Bay is going to MURDER them.
This is my opinion. I'm sure people have others... but they're wrong. I'm just sayin'.
More importantly (WARNING: girl alert!), the Packers will win because of Aaron Rodgers' magic. (You know, I have the hardest time with pluralizing names that end in "s." I know that you can either just do the apostrophe or adding another "s" on the end, and I've lived my whole life doing the extra "s." Now I'm in a tailspin because I've gotten lazy, and I don't want to do the "s" anymore, but I also don't want to cave in to societal norms. MY GRAMMATICAL LIFE IS IN A TAILSPIN.)
"I'm sorry," you might be saying, "did you just say MAGIC?! Are you on crack?" Yes, I did, and yes, I am. Aaron Rodgers is my crack, bitches. His aura is filled with a sparkly yellow that overwhelms all of his opponents. His spirit unleashes adorable puppies into the psyches of the defense until they are blindly groping about, sometimes hitting their own players. He's only gotten sacks (and two concussions) this year because the other guy thought that they were saving him from a den of man-hungry lions. He's still working on his magic (clearly, he'd like to not be sacked at all), but give him another year, and he'll be THE MOST MAGICAL BEING IN ALL OF THE NFL. He's working on his laser-beam eyes, but right now they're like a laser pen whose batteries are almost out. This is probably best, since the person most likely to be on the receiving end of those laser eyes is Brett Favre, who is planning on going into hiding until after all 50 of his former masseuses are done filing charges against him.
So there ya go - the Packers will win, and Aaron Rodgers is magic. Also, Mike Tomlin is badass, and it makes me sad to go against him, but his magic isn't as powerful. Everyone knows that Omar Epps can only do so much for you.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Super Bowl Week #2: FOOD
Tuesday's almost over, so let's do a quick one that actually pertains to the Super Bowl: FOOD. FUCKIN' DELICIOUS SUPER BOWL PARTY FOOD. Let's get into it!
(Side note: Just saw the Packers [and a nanosecond of the Steelers] on a teaser for Access Hollywood. That doesn't seem right. Nonetheless, I'm obligated to continue watching. I'm filled with shame. But my shame is made of lemon meringue, so I think I'll be okay.)
I'm in the process of getting together food for a Super Bowl party, along with some other people. If you haven't already been invited... well, that means you're not invited. I can't feed everyone, bitches! Deal with it. ANYWAY, I've been looking up a lot of recipes for a lot of normal finger foods, and I feel pretty excited about it. However, there are a lot of ridiculous recipes out there, particularly for chicken wings. This is what I'm most looking forward to making because I've never made them before. Let's look at some of the more weird ones.
(AH MAH GAH the Access Hollywood piece on the Super Bowl just made me yell at the TV. PLEASE do not ask their preference on TV shows, or social networking sites, or idiotic female singers. They're playing the most important football game of the year in less than a week. Media Day is the WORST day of Super Bowl Week. If I had the focus right now, I'd do a whole blog on that. However, I'm clearly ADD right now. Oh, and by the way? Aaron Rodgers CLEARLY picked Glee over Modern Family because the Super Bowl is on FOX. I hope. I REALLY, REALLY HOPE.)
CRANBERRY BARBECUED CHICKEN WINGS: I'm sorry, but when you're dealing with something that is stereotypically known as a "man" finger food, using cranberries seems to be ruining it. It's the equivalent of seeing some big beefy dude order a Cosmo at the bar. If it's red and fruity, a man only wants it if it's strawberries and cream, and even then, only if he's eating it off your body.
DRAGON BREATH CHICKEN WINGS: They're Asian chicken wings, which isn't actually that weird... but the name. THE NAME. It's bad enough that buffalo chicken wings give you a mouth of fire, but do you want to eat wings that literally THREATEN fire mouth?! Not to mention that I imagine dragon breath to be equivalent of morning breath after a night of copious drinking and smoking, and that sounds fucking disgusting. No thanks.
MAHOGANY CHICKEN WINGS: Sounds like wood. Also sounds like something a douchebag would order at a bar, just so he could say to a lady, "Wanna try my mahogany chicken wings?" Dude. You don't have real mahogany in your house. Quit trying to put it in your mouth. ... Heh. Wood in your mouth. (Also? Mahogany is an incredibly hard word to spell.)
MEXICAN PARTY CHICKEN WINGS: That is a sex act. It cannot possibly be an actual food. It would be a guy fucking you whilst singing the Mexican Hat Dance song (This is the song, if you don't know), and then when he comes on your face, he throws some salsa on your chest. I'm just saying, I wouldn't TOUCH Mexican Party chicken wings if I saw them.
TOM'S WINGS: Okay, granted, I'm sure this is just some dude that wanted his recipe online. But... there is NOTHING to the recipe. It's a lazy man's version of a regular chicken wing. Did you REALLY think anyone needed that, Tom? Lemon juice and some hot sauce do not a good recipe make. (Even though those are the flavors I put on almost everything I eat. I'm not putting my shitty recipes for white trash pasta/quesadillas/whatever is in my fridge ONLINE, though.)
The last one is really not THAT weird, since I've seen recipes for them everywhere, but...
NAKED CHICKEN WINGS: I don't appreciate any of my food being called "naked." In addition, this manages to be even MORE boring that Tom's wings. Poor Tom. If only you'd put some nudity (or a vaguely sexual reference) in your wings.
For the record, I'm planning to make a lot of food with bacon in it. I haven't decided if the wings will have any... BUT I WILL FIND A WAY. Hopefully. I mean, I'm poor. I can't buy THAT much bacon. Or... can I?
(Side note: Just saw the Packers [and a nanosecond of the Steelers] on a teaser for Access Hollywood. That doesn't seem right. Nonetheless, I'm obligated to continue watching. I'm filled with shame. But my shame is made of lemon meringue, so I think I'll be okay.)
I'm in the process of getting together food for a Super Bowl party, along with some other people. If you haven't already been invited... well, that means you're not invited. I can't feed everyone, bitches! Deal with it. ANYWAY, I've been looking up a lot of recipes for a lot of normal finger foods, and I feel pretty excited about it. However, there are a lot of ridiculous recipes out there, particularly for chicken wings. This is what I'm most looking forward to making because I've never made them before. Let's look at some of the more weird ones.
(AH MAH GAH the Access Hollywood piece on the Super Bowl just made me yell at the TV. PLEASE do not ask their preference on TV shows, or social networking sites, or idiotic female singers. They're playing the most important football game of the year in less than a week. Media Day is the WORST day of Super Bowl Week. If I had the focus right now, I'd do a whole blog on that. However, I'm clearly ADD right now. Oh, and by the way? Aaron Rodgers CLEARLY picked Glee over Modern Family because the Super Bowl is on FOX. I hope. I REALLY, REALLY HOPE.)
CRANBERRY BARBECUED CHICKEN WINGS: I'm sorry, but when you're dealing with something that is stereotypically known as a "man" finger food, using cranberries seems to be ruining it. It's the equivalent of seeing some big beefy dude order a Cosmo at the bar. If it's red and fruity, a man only wants it if it's strawberries and cream, and even then, only if he's eating it off your body.
DRAGON BREATH CHICKEN WINGS: They're Asian chicken wings, which isn't actually that weird... but the name. THE NAME. It's bad enough that buffalo chicken wings give you a mouth of fire, but do you want to eat wings that literally THREATEN fire mouth?! Not to mention that I imagine dragon breath to be equivalent of morning breath after a night of copious drinking and smoking, and that sounds fucking disgusting. No thanks.
MAHOGANY CHICKEN WINGS: Sounds like wood. Also sounds like something a douchebag would order at a bar, just so he could say to a lady, "Wanna try my mahogany chicken wings?" Dude. You don't have real mahogany in your house. Quit trying to put it in your mouth. ... Heh. Wood in your mouth. (Also? Mahogany is an incredibly hard word to spell.)
MEXICAN PARTY CHICKEN WINGS: That is a sex act. It cannot possibly be an actual food. It would be a guy fucking you whilst singing the Mexican Hat Dance song (This is the song, if you don't know), and then when he comes on your face, he throws some salsa on your chest. I'm just saying, I wouldn't TOUCH Mexican Party chicken wings if I saw them.
TOM'S WINGS: Okay, granted, I'm sure this is just some dude that wanted his recipe online. But... there is NOTHING to the recipe. It's a lazy man's version of a regular chicken wing. Did you REALLY think anyone needed that, Tom? Lemon juice and some hot sauce do not a good recipe make. (Even though those are the flavors I put on almost everything I eat. I'm not putting my shitty recipes for white trash pasta/quesadillas/whatever is in my fridge ONLINE, though.)
The last one is really not THAT weird, since I've seen recipes for them everywhere, but...
NAKED CHICKEN WINGS: I don't appreciate any of my food being called "naked." In addition, this manages to be even MORE boring that Tom's wings. Poor Tom. If only you'd put some nudity (or a vaguely sexual reference) in your wings.
For the record, I'm planning to make a lot of food with bacon in it. I haven't decided if the wings will have any... BUT I WILL FIND A WAY. Hopefully. I mean, I'm poor. I can't buy THAT much bacon. Or... can I?
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