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Things I Think about but People Probably Shouldn’t KnowAbout

It’s been a while.

Lots has happened since my last post. More kids, new house… I’m essentially a different person. Lol. Jk. I’m just chubbier.

I thought I’d share a little ice breaker so we could get reacquainted. Fun! Everyone loves those torturous things where you listen to where some asshole is from and have to guess if they went to a Rusted Root concert when they were 15 or if they had a cesarian section for their twins. Super fun.

Anyway, I’m not sure if this is going to be a consistent thing or a sporadic thing so I’ll just leave this here. Some pondersome thoughts (redundant? No, since I made that one word up English rules don’t apply) to read in case you don’t have enough weird thoughts of your own.

Anyway, here’s some shit I’ve been thinking about over the past few years.

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Ok so the human centipede thing. I’ve never watched the movie, I’m not that brave yet, so maybe these questions would be answered by seeing it. The question is: wouldn’t the first one, like… the head? get really fat because they have to eat 3x the amount of food to produce enough shit to sustain centipede participants 2-3 etc? I mean, I doubt this is in any scientific journals and if it is, I think I would readily subscribe for that kind of hard hitting journalism.

Also, why even give them legs? Just lop off the limbs and make a big person tube. It’s probably for the aesthetic… Duh. Human centipede. Not human poop worm.

If you rape one centipede participant are the others raped by proxy? I don’t know… there probably aren’t any laws on this. It’s kind of a grey area… If you rape one orally is it considered to be butt sex? No. It’s not. That doesn’t make sense, that’s just sensationalistic.

* * *

So, like, the way chickens lay eggs is that they lay a clutch of about 12 eggs and then stop, hatch their babies and then carry on their miserable little chicken lives. If we take away the eggs every morning, the chickens are forced to lay and lay and lay trying futilely to create a clutch. If chickens lay eggs every day until they have a clutch, is that like a chicken’s period equivalent? When we take the eggs and they continue forever crapping out our breakfast, is that equivalent to someone stealing our used tampons and that means we will bleed the next day? Like a menses Groundhog Day??? This is a nightmare.

Would you rather lay a baby sized egg every day or bleed from your vagina every day for the rest of your life? Also, the egg baby is eaten by strangers…

* * *

My least favorite song is Sk8tr Boi by Avril Levine… there’s always more you can say, Avril. That’s just laziness and I’m actually not convinced this is a true story since you are severely lacking in details… I bet you just made this shit up to make popular, discerning girls feel terrible for not dating the loser pothead in high school on the off chance he would become famous some day. Shame on you, Avril.

PS- your name is like April and Anvil had a baby. You are actually like that too, I suspect. Are your parents an anvil and a month? If so that’s probably the only interesting thing about you.

I fucking hate that you used numbers for letters and spelled boy with an I. I’m glad you had the decency to drop off the face of the planet because of your shame over this… wait… is Avril Levine dead? Do I care? I really can’t tell…

PPS: I have had Sk8tr Boi in my head every day since writing this. I will kill myself soon if this continues.

* * *

People share the “Like if you remember what this is” shit on Facebook because being old is the only way for them to feel superior to others anymore… like, yeah Sharon, you’re better than someone because you know what a clothes pin is. You have more value because you can still use a rotary phone… get up on outta here with that shit… that’s not something to bond over. I know what that shit is but I’m not about to tell you that. I don’t want to be in your weird “I recognize what things are” club.

My daughter says Facebook is for old people anyway, which is probably correct; however, that’s were her happy ass goes any time she wants to snoop so HAH! My old people social media still serves a very useful purpose. That should teach us all about ageism… and hypocrisy, apparently… :\

* * *

Has anyone ever broken a spaghetti noodle off in their pee hole?

*one disturbing google search later*

Yes. They have and the world is a weird, dirty place……..

but, like, how do they get it out????

* * *

Someone I used to work with posted on FB that she dreamt that someone dead had emailed her and it felt so real she checked her email when she woke up. That same night I dreamed a tv producer hired me to run a dirt bike race and then fucked me with his underwear still covering his tiny (tiny) penis. It felt so real that I orgasmed in my sleep.    I win.

Sorry about your grandma though. For real.

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Success in Advertising

Yesterday I was long winded. Today I will be brief because I have shit to do.

Well, brief-er.

More brief.

Already it’s not looking good for brevity.

Anyway, I skipped WTF Wednesday because I simply forgot. So I guess this is sort of a WTF Friday? I didn’t make it to the thrift store this week. The images from previous trips just aren’t speaking to me yet, so I’m going to talk about some images that I used to use as teaching tools about successfully conveying a message in advertising. I guess I could have just used the word rhetoric but this brevity thing…. I’m not so good at it.

I used to teach a class on rhetoric and composition and I’d use these images, not so much because they are excellent examples of successful advertising. It’s basically because I thought they were funny and I wanted to share them with friends. Since I had no friends, I would squeeze them into lesson plans so I could laugh with a group of people and feel like I was part of the 18 year old cool kids. I was their leader. I was the head cool kid just for a moment.

Come be a cool kid with me and look at this shit I brought….

I'm sure they're much better at sewing. I mean, how could they NOT be?

I’m sure they’re much better at sewing. I mean, how could they NOT be?

So I’m not going to speculate on who this person is. Okay, maybe a little speculating…. So I would like to believe these are English-as-second-language people. I refuse to believe that any native speaker would mutilate words like this. It’s possible though. Notice that only the Es are in cursive? And, yes, that is the way I’m pluralizing the letter E. Maybe it’d be easier to just make a list?

– Scribbled hastily on side of van in Pig’s Blood Red lipstick

– The letters A, R and T are capitalized with no apparent reason behind it.

– E and i are not capitalized. (Is there a Da Vinci Code type message here? Do they know where Jesus’s hemmed dress slacks are hidden?)

– Why, oh why, did they break up the word alteration? Why didn’t they just start writing 3 inches over? Why didn’t they wipe the lipstick off and try it again? If they wrote it in permanent marker… why in the fuck did they write it in permanent marker? On the side of their vehicle?? I’m seriously leaning Da Vinci on this. Are the Alterati an even more secret sect of the Illuminati? More secret because they’re not rich and they drive poorly tired mini vans? And because they sew stuff instead of do mean things to Taylor Swift at award ceremonies?

– And for the love of God why is there a comma after the phone number?? Every time I look at this I think that the phone number is someplace in Ontario. Why, yes! I DO live in 592-4783, Ontario! (Yeah, that one didn’t bring any laughs in the classroom either…)

And, just for your information, my students and I called the number once. It was out of service. The Alterati again have disappeared into the dark, hidden sweatshops of the world….

God, now I feel guilty! What if this was a cry for help? What if they are trapped somewhere, being forced to sew red carpet dresses for Hollywood’s elite Illuminati?

Or maybe they just got arrested. I took the photo in front of a flea market that the cops shut down because they were selling millions of dollars of knockoff designer purses.

I will always wonder, though— who ARE the Alterati?

So I’ve already broken my promise about brevity. I’m just going to say a few words on this next one because I don’t want to give anyone the impression I actually am trying to speak politically on the topic being advertised here…

Abortion

I took this photo on my way home from work one day.

Read the sign. Just the words.

I know it is an anti-abortion ad.

I also know it’s unsuccessful but still successful. Either way you read it, it’s correct.

Abortion does stop a beating heart.

Abortion also, technically, could stop a beating.

It’s all in the perspective, I guess.

Happy Friday, everyone! 🙂

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WTF Wednesday- “Who the F” Owned This?

Sometimes people are multifaceted. Sometimes they have multiple interests and can’t be pigeon holed into a single category that defines them. I like to pretend to be one of those people.

Thing is, “bitch” would pretty much sum me up. With that in mind, I’m going to step outside of “mommy mode” for a second and do something that has always brought me pleasure– judging people.

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