There is no dignity on Wednesday, the 13th!

Yesterday, after I posted the morning's tale of Garbage Nudity Crisis I found that yesterday was actually cursed.

Later that day...

1. Wallgreen's did not have the toilet paper I wanted. How do you run out of the good toilet paper Wallgreen's?! I am very fussy about what is rubbed on my butt.

2. While purchasing TP and shaving gel at Safeway, I decided to impulse buy strawberry Crush in glass bottles. Apparently when people take a few bottles out of a 6-pack carrier, they become unstable and when innocent Quianas come by to take the carrier propping up the partially empty carrier, the partially empty carrier falls onto the floor and 50% of the bottles explode everywhere. This makes me a sad panda.

3. Got in line at Joann's with one spool of heavy duty thread and a set of upholstery needles. I was the only one in line and there are two check stands open. One of the checkers summonsed the manager, and I was not paying much attention. A moment later the manager was at my elbow asking if she can help me. I found this confusing because usually at Joann's the check stand is a complete clusterfuck with 10 people in line and 1 or 2 check stands open, so thinking that she thought I need manager-level assistance, I merely gestured to my basket and said, "I just want to buy these." She looked into my basket and says, "That's not for sale." I looked down at the thread and needles and asked, "Why not?" She replied, "They're not for sale." I pick up the items and say, "But they were on the shelf." I am now convinced I am in the Twilight Zone. Then the woman said, "Ohhhhhhhh, I thought you wanted to buy the basket. Those are not for sale."

No really, I insist.

I insist that you read this BWE blog entry and but really most specifically the comments. It pertains to...

The Beef.

Said one commenter about this post:

I just took a giant piss on the copies of Where The Red Fern Grows, Goodnight Moon, and Where The Wild Things Are that I was saving for my unborn children. This story should suffice for their entire childhood.

I mean, I don't want to over sell. I'm just saying, this story: pretty ok. Especially if you've been following Beef-Mania on BWE at all.

Interesting.

So a while ago I mentioned that I was concerned about the alleged suicide of Pfc. LaVena Johnson. That day I wrote my congressman, Jay Inslee a brief email to make him aware that this is a concern for his constituents. A few weeks later I received a lengthy letter and a copy of a related Congressional Report. The letter not only addressed Pfc. Johnson but also got into the root of the problem, a lack of transparency in the military. The report was lengthy and primarily addressed the US military's use of the media to influence the public in situations that the public would find untenable.

I don't know much about Jay Inslee, but it was somewhat comforting to know that my letter was viewed with enough interest to merit a response.

Unfortunately, real comfort comes from a military that treats its soldiers (of both genders) with the respect that they deserve. People should not fear their military.

Dignity, always dignity.

This morning I lay in bed at 7 am willing myself back into a deep slumber, when over my window fan I heard a beeping.

Every Wednesday since we’ve moved in the garbage truck has arrived at noon at the earliest. Till today. From my bed I realized that Jim had not put out the cans yet.

I leapt from the bed and ran towards the door. Oh! Pants! Grabbed pants and hopping on one foot jammed myself in them and raced down the stairs. Into the garage and out with the can in the nick of time.

Looking down I realize:

1. My pants are on backwards.
2. I’m braless.
3. I’m wearing a shirt that has a Mario Bros mystery block and says “I’d hit that.”

I deeply desire fat baby platypuses!

Ohhhhhhh pudgy platypuses!














Via Cute Overload.

Space Links!

Via io9 & MSNBC.

Lovely, Pristine Beaches off the Shores of Titan's Great Methane Lake

Branson's New Virgin Mothership Sneak Peek

RAWR! Shake it Sir Richard Branson!

Things I Don't Understand: Bumper Stickers

Hey guess what ass-nuggets: I do not believe that your other ride is my mom. And I simply do not care if it is a Harley, but thanks for that superfluous factoid about your interest in having sex with my 50 year old mother and/or your possession of other cooler vehicles.

I do not understand bumper stickers. What am I supposed to say?
Oh I get it, there is a seal and a fetus on that sticker and it says, "One of these is protected. " Now I see! Killing unborn babies is just as bad as killing seals. I will change my ways and vote "pro-life". Thank you for showing me the error of my ways. Perhaps there are other opinions of mine that you can adjust with a 2 dollar sticker. Please help me. You are so smart. And also kind of sexy RAAAAAAAAWR.

Furthermore, I do not care how carpenters do it, where you take yoga, or if your kid is an honor student. And hey, could you tell me more personal information about your children, such as their names and where they sleep? Just, you know, curious.

Oh and thanks for telling me who to vote for. If I hadn't seen that sticker on your Honda I would not have known who is running for president. That sure is a pretty sticker. I think I will change my vote.

PS- Jesus also thanks you for adhering a fish to the back of your vehicle so that every time you drive like the ass-clown you are, He gets blamed.

If you can read this get off my ass. SO CLASSY. If you have one of these stickers and also a penis, call me!! RAWR!!

What are you doing on your friday night?

Are you blogging on your enormous bean bag chair whilst pretending that your mother will not be arriving at an unspecified time tomorrow morning for an unspecified activity?

No? Good for you.

As for me, I am enjoying my first unscheduled night, possibly ever. I should be vacuuming though, as mother will be coming to stay tomorrow and the second she walks in I will see a Harvey-sized dust bunny half way under my bed and keel over and promptly die of shame.

Instead I am playing a critical observational role in the completion of an entertainment center-like piece of furnishing while drinking tea and actively dreading. (If you dread actively you burn more calories. True story.)

While I'm on the topic of dreading. I think I have mentioned about 47 billion times that I have an awkward non-relationship with my father. My father who will be in Portland on business early next month and wants to get together.

I am rocking both short and long term dread. It is like a new accessory that gives me weird forehead wrinkles.

I have not seen my father since 1998. Prior to that I saw him in maybe '88, '89 somewhere. I hope this isn't some sort of tradition where in every ten years my father swoops in to disappoint me in some new and outlandish fashion. Because I am an idiot and will always set myself up for damage.

You would not think it if you knew me, as I am otherwise a very strong and independent person, but I always am surprised when people suck. Just like Charlie Brown who runs to kick the ball and every time, at the last second, Lucy wrenches the ball away. I know deep inside that when I get there that ball will be gone and I will hate myself just a little bit. But it is in my nature to always try to kick the ball, I have to try. Do my best. Be my best. Even if it is humiliating.

Oh Noes! It is the Fail Whale!

Today the Fail Whale came to visit me at work and would not leave. Luckily it didn't bring the uhm.... uhm... Care Bear with. (Maybe it brought the Fuck it Bucket instead?) ["author's" note: I'm too tired for this rhyming business.]

Failures [so far] today:

1. Forgot important legal documents for meeting today. FAIL. (No one noticed.)

2. Forgot to bring bottled water. FAIL. (No one cared.)

3. Spilled coffee (How much? A LOT) all over inside my car. FAIL. (I am a huge idiot.)

4. And I look like one too in my outfit chosen at 6 am. (SIX AM! BWAH!?!, you say. Dude. I know, too early.) FAIL. I am a huge idiot and my outfit proclaims to the world. Look at me, I may be your crazy red-neck cousin that your mother did not let you play with at the reunion on account of the lice and the what not. (Still single, tell your friends!)

Everyone keep your fingers crossed for the rest of the day. Perhaps you should periodically text me and remind me to breathe.

Stop! Link Time!

1. Via Drew, Via Gizmodo: CHAOS! BWAHAHA!

Our robot servants stage a revolt. Watch out! Your robo-servants could be next!


2. This bad AV Club review of Mummy: Asian Edition actually makes me want to watch the movie.

Boring Shit About Which I am Thinking

1. Still kind of hung up on my fundy Not-Aunt and the manner in which she is raising my cousin.
a. Children should not believe that their dead fathers went to hell.

b. She pays money to send her to a school where they teach straight up Bible literal creationism. Also my cousin is not reading to grade level. What are they doing over there? Making WWJD bracelets?

c. She lives 2.5 hours away and yet apparently when you cross the Cascades rather than landing in dry Seattle, you land in Kansas. In 1850. Where people cannot understand what a half brother is because heavens, nobody gets a divorce. Where having a half-brother is apparently grounds for ridicule and shaming. (I wonder if they know that he is black. GASP!

d. How is it that people are allowed to procreate all higgledy piggledy? People should not be allowed to just make babies and then screw them up.

2. Spent some time with my voter's ballot tonight and was all irritated with the various candidates for Superintendent of Public Instruction. Let me just assure you guys that voting for a candidate who is running on an anti-WASL platform will either a. replace the WASL with an entirely differently named but nearly identical test OR b. keep the WASL because it conforms to national law and cost a fortune to create. It makes me so frustrated that these candidates either don't understand No Child Left Behind Legislation or are willing to lie to uninformed voters.

3. My mother is coming to visit this weekend and I am kind of freaking out... just, you know, a little bit. I only have to entertain her solo for Saturday. But that is plenty of time for us to have a terrible fight. Suggestions for wholesome family entertainment? I'm thinking a Brendon Frasier movie. Two hours, no talking. Phew!

4. Today I bought a trellis for my green bean plants and as I moved the sticky little vine I noticed a dozen tiny slugs eating my plants. I urgently need one can of PBR... in which to drown those little fuckers.

Back in the Saddle

I'm back and tanned (in places). And I have sapphires, star garnets, 3 kinds of crystal, and fossilized leaves. (Still single, tell your friends!)

I'll update my excruciatingly boring daily blog over the next couple of days to update on the specifics of the trip, but in short:
1. It was hot (really hot).
- 10am, why the hell shouldn't it be 90 degrees?

2. I own a lot (A LOT) of rocks. You needs rocks. I gots rocks.
-I get that we were supposed to be hunting rocks, but hey, guess what... I totally have no idea what to do with all these rocks.

3. I did not walk a single schnauzer even one time (of their 3- THREE- walks a day)
-Yes, I let my aged grandparents walk 6 dogs 3 times a day. I am an ass. An ass that does like to deal with schnaus.

4. My dead uncle's ex-mistress' closed minded creepy fundamentalist Christian beliefs are warping my cousin hideously. Not that she had much of a shot of normalcy to begin with.
-ex: will not let my cousin read Harry Potter because she will learn witchcraft.

Where was I going with all this? Oh yea. I'm back, and will resume my standard blogging 'schedule' as of today.

Octopuses attempting to evolve fingers, must be stopped!

Silly octopuses, fingers are for people and monkeys or some shit. Quit it you weirdos.

Via Pink Tentacle. (I know what it sounds like, but it is not like that. Perverts.)

I'm going on vacation...

and I may, or may not, take you guys. I mean you're cool and what not, but you know, I may need my space.

For the next ten(ish) days I am going to be on an epic road trip/treasure hunt with:
3 cousins: 16 year old boy, 13 year old boy, 8 year old girl
The Grandma
The Grandpa
The Auntie
The Uncle
6 SCHNAUZERS (I will make this my official prayer/finger crossing request of the week.)

So I depart for the frosty north again tomorrow morning with the goal of finding gem stones in the dirt and also acquiring glass bottle Coke. Delicious (The coke, not dirt. Dirt often contains poo and should be avoided. Unless it also contains sapphires.)

We'll go through Montana, then Idaho, then back. It should be fun and I intend to blog, but this may not happen. It is hard to say.

So, now I've updated you and uhm... I think that is all I've got for today. Look forward to maybe some sporadic updates (maybe) and uhm... I think I'll go make some cookies for tomorrow.
Enjoy your not vacation, suckers.

For your viewing enjoyment

Sometimes I am filled with great love and wonder at the awesomeness of other people.

Meet Anderson Pooper, The World’s Sexiest Anderson Cooper Lookalike and Cat
via BWE's Michelle Collins (who in my zesty alternate Quiana universe could be my hip NYC best friend).

----
And sometimes I am not.


















Sharpened spikes at Green Lake
The discovery of more than three dozen machine-sharpened spikes at the Green Lake boating center has prompted the city of Seattle to post warnings to would-be swimmers.
@ Seattle Times.

There is only one "n-word"; this word is not 'nuts'.

Dear American news media,

'Nuts' is not a bad word. You could also say 'balls' or 'testes', neither of which are bad words. If you can call a woman a bitch on TV, CNN can use the word 'nuts' if it is legitimately news worthy. I don't want to shock anyone, but I hear from various sources that the majority of men have testicles, so I think that it is probably fine to say.

Please quit calling it 'the n-word', it's juvenile and honestly quite silly.

Thanks!

q.

And while I'm on the topic...

This whole Jackson-Obama "feud" is ridiculous and the situation reminds me of the plot of an old episode of Scrubs, in which JD doesn't realize his mic is still on. (Coincidentally, this episode was about race.) Unprofessional.

Furthermore, I don't ask my pastor who to vote for (Obama), but if he started trying to tell me who to vote for, that would be the end of his religious guidance.

Jackson is a sham and in my opinion has not helped anyone, black or white, in America since the mid-sixties, unless you think so-called "interracial" political coalitions are super.

Additionally, Jackson has been a divisive force within every group he has belonged to, from the SCLC, to the Democratic Party, to America.

Oh and by the way, he's an anti-Semite.

Oh and he's a baptist minister who cheated on his wife (hypocrite) and was too stupid to use protection (so stupid) .

And lest we forget, he is a grown man who uses the word 'nuts' and an idiot who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut in a TV studio.


If you are the only person in the universe who isn't sick of this topic, you can catch up at the NYT.

Apple and Tree: Measuring the Distance of the Fall, Hoping it is Really Far

Monday, between 9:30 and 11:30 pm.
Mother leaves a vm asking for my new address, the same new address I have emailed to all 3 of her accounts twice. Didn’t call her on account of how it was nearly midnight.

Tuesday, 6 pm.
Receive vm from Grandma asking me to call her back immediately. Did so and was admonished for not calling my mother back for days. Notified her that mother called less than 24 hours ago for information she already has.

Tuesday, 8 pm.
Receive second vm from mother again asking for my address and chastising me for:

1. Leaving her hanging for days and now my b-day card will be late.
2. Not having given her my new address sooner.

Also notes that she left a vm on the home phone (Apparently we have a vm on that line. Would have been nice to know that one existed.) Note that my mother knows I am not home and have not been home for 20 some odd days and will not be home until August, but can’t remember what she has dialed so leaves to voicemails with identical lengthy chastisements.

Tuesday 10:30 pm.
Called my mom back on my home phone, which has free calling to Canada. Notified her of my new address and reminded her of how it has been emailed. Twice. Then in engaged in circular argument:

Q: You called yesterday.

Mom: No, I called Monday and you never called back.

Q: YES. You called at 10 pm YESTERDAY.

M: No, I didn’t, I called Monday.

Q: No, I mean yes. Today is… oh forget it.

[Gastrointestinal] Distress Signal

Yes, I am aware of TMI, I just don’t care. If I have to suffer, you have to suffer.

I spent the majority of Monday morning disrespecting or attempting to disrespect the bathroom. 4 (FOUR!) pepto caplets were taken and I still barely survived.

I took yesterday off, and felt more or less ok, but today I am yet again displeased with the universe. (Though on a much lesser scale.)

Two possibilities:

1. I am allergic to work.
2. Someone at work sneaks over and throws laxatives in my coffee mug while I am not paying attention. I’m looking at you Bark Bark Bark Lady.

T4 Teaser Trailer is up at io9

The new Terminator 2: Salvation teaser is up and is very teas-y at io9.