Saturday, October 30, 2010

obligatory halloween disbelief

With Halloween just around the corner, of course ladies are gonna dress like their disgusting depraved creatures of the night.  But there is a limit.  And that was hit last evening.  It's not even Halloween yet.  I get people are going to parties.  But.  This was just nasty.

It wasn't accidental.  Or a result of some trickery saying there was an emergency underwear party.
It was just lingerie.  Not lingerie like an old timey Playboy Bunny costume.  Not lingerie with the guise of any decoration to be a sexy sailor, pilot, pirate, wizard, robot or anything!  Just lingerie.

Lingerie is not a costume.  This woman was actually wearing a piece of bottom underwear that went up between where her butt is split.  You could see each cheek.  And over that she had on a see through undergarment with feathers where her boobs should be.  This is called a teddy, or, as I just looked up and like better, a camiknicker.  Either way, I don't want to see it tromping down the street encasing a person but revealing everything with its sheer vulgarity.  It is not a Halloween costume!  

It.  Is just.  Nasty.

I don't want to see some stranger's butt jiggling its way down the street.  I just don't.  Undergarments are just that.  For undering.  They are not overgarments.

Then again.

Maybe that woman should be admired for not even pretending her costume is supposed to be something else.  She just decided to wear underwear that should be kept inside one's bedroom or preferably never purchased in the first place.  She was brave and threw it all out there on the table.  She didn't stick ears on it and call it a mouse.  
She was just like - "Taking back the night!  Marching around in my underwear!  BAM!  Halloween means underpants EXPOSED!  It means ass cheeks on parade!"  And that is the true spirit of Halloween, is it not? 

But she probably shouldn't be admired - you probably should never admire a woman who exposes her buttcheeks in public.  Nor should you admire a woman who invites you for tea and then you get to the door and she's pantless, facing you butt-forward.

I'm not saying you have to wrap yourself up like a mummy, exposing none of your skin.  I'm not saying you have put some big old teeth in your mouth and wear a wedding dress.
I'm not saying a lot of things.

I'm just saying:  I don't want to see your butt cheeks.

Monday, October 25, 2010

how to look good dancing...

Full length dance lessons to followsoon...until then, here is this...

Friday, October 22, 2010

Thursday, October 21, 2010

close your legs

I like to Exercise On Demand on the television.  The other day I decided to try Crunch Burlesque because I thought it would be like the other ridiculous burlesque work out I tried in which it was all ladies above 50 and they were all just hi-larious.

But that was not by Crunch.  Crunch does things differently.  Weirdly.  Creepily.
During the Crunch work out there was a lot of the lead lady saying things along the lines, "We're exercising but it's better because we're doing it cute!"  And this had something to do with the fact that, "This is how we do it in LA!  Keep it sexy!  Be cute!  Do it cute!  And sexy!  Light and sexy!  Fun and cute!"  

This is gross.  She is gross.  I am in LA.  Things like that lady and what she is saying make people not like LA and people in LA.  Rest assured I am not like that.  And my LA is not like that.  There are plenty of people here not like that.  But she makes me want to leave LA and it's people like that and go far far away to a land of regular aerobic movement - like walking around outside and such.

But it was raining and when it's raining the outdoors becomes a different world into which it becomes impossible to voyage.

I don't have to do everything sexy and cute and light and fun.  Do I?  Sure, I do!  But that's just me!  I go to the supermarket and I keep it sexy and cute and light and fun.  I take my fat dog for a short walk before we're both out of breath, but my fat dog keeps it sexy and cute and light and fun for the both of us.  I even keep it sexy and cute and light and fun when I use the powder room!  But while exercising??  That crosses my lines.
It's rude to be told to do that in a work out.  Where you're supposed to be lifting heavy things and be strong.  Nobody every said, "Oh, what a cute bunny - it's so powerful when it hops!"   People say, "Oh, what a cute bunny - it's like a cloud I want to hug it!  It couldn't hurt a bug if it pooped on it!  It's so wonderfully immobile!"  So it's just weird to be told to be cute and sexy while exercising and especially that you HAVE TO be cute and sexy or you're doing it wrong.

And on the subject of bunnies -
Nobody was every impressed by the Playboy Bunnies strength and powers.

And she kept telling me to, "Close my legs!"
Which is great advice if you're a 1950s school slut but I am not any one part of any of that.  So stop shouting at me to close my legs if they're only open because you just told me I had to for what is apparently passing as a burlesque dance move.  PS - I know that's a photo of Sandy from Grease and not Rizzo who, by all rights and knowledges, was the school slut.  But I always figured Sandy's makeover was more about turning herself into a world class strumpet than anything else.

I suppose it was all really my fault.  I didn't really expect to not be shouted at if I was doing an exercise.  It's On Demand, after all.  I asked for it.  But I didn't ask for the sexy or cute.  I really didn't.

Monday, October 18, 2010

why facebook is the devil

DISCLAIMER:  I like Facebook and check it a lot.

Facebook is the devil, as stated in the title of this post.  Not the Devil like that dumb elevator movie.
If Facebook was an elevator that might actually be neat.  And not the sexy Devil like in the remake of Bedazzled.
Or a sexy Devil like the original of Bedazzled.
No, Facebook is a stinky jerk devil.  This is true for several reasons.  Here I will say one or two or however many depending on how I feel.

1) Facebook makes people who aren't stupid look stupid and people who are stupid look more stupid.  I realize Facebook is not real life, but it's a part of real life - so you should present yourself how you would in real life.

In the real world when you meet with a close friend or acquaintance and they query how you're doing, do you honestly bust out with something  like, "My life is so blessed!  I've been so lucky lately with all my amazing opportunities!  I'm thinner than I think as evidenced by the fact that I thought my clothes were all size small but they're actually EXTRA small!  And my job is unworldly!  I can't believe I'm me getting to live my life and prance about all over the world and do the things I do!  I'm so jealous of me!  It's been a beautiful dream!!  Also I got a puppy from my life's hero who I happened to bump into while parading down the boulevard of an amazing foreign land my blessed life led me to be in at just the right moment!"  No.
You don't do that in real life.  You don't go around shouting about how great you are unless you want to look like a total jerk or unless you're some weirdo in a bar who thinks these kinds of things are the kinds of things other people want to here.  You just look like a happy-go-lucky moron for the most part.  But this goes the other way, too!  You wouldn't just wander up to strangers and friends and say, "Job sucks.  I hate my life.  I can't believe the tragedies that befall me as I walk to my horrible job where everyone hates me."  Then you just look like a cranky old thunderpants nobody wants to talk to.

There is a happy medium of these things in life, so there should be on Facebook.  And when people I know post things like this my opinion greatly lowers.  It's great you're proud of yourself or you're unhappy with your situation, but in my day we didn't go about airing our dirty laundry.  That's not true.  But I don't like dirty laundry.  I don't want to know about your figurative dirty underpants and how they got that way.  Hell's bells -- I don't even like normal laundry, nobody does.  Don't think just because you've done something that makes it interesting.

If you've saved an adorable 3-legged kitten from destruction at the hands of a Disney villain come to life, that's something to toot your horn about.  Or if you found out you had a long lost twin and you went to the same summer camp and were enemies but you bonded and now realize now you're better than sisters, you're twins - that's pretty cool.
But if you're life was really so fantastic would you really want to take the time out of all the magic happening all around you to talk about it?  And if you're life is so terrible, do something about it.  Or don't but don't talk about it all the time.  Nobody likes a Frowny Fran, a Debbie Downer, or a Naysaying Ned.  People generally don't like Fran's, Debbie's and Ned's anyhow.  So don't make it worse.

Facebook isn't show 'n' tell and you're not in preschool so how about a little discretion or at least discerning judgement when it comes to what you want to share.
You're not Gwyneth Paltrow.  Your life can't be that great.  And her life is pretty stinkin' fancy and nobody wants to hear about it.  So think about yourself for just a minute.  Would you want me to announce ever so proudly I've just made cookies?  Or finished studying?  Or that I'm going to get sweaty with strangers in a gym?  Or watch other people get sweaty at a sports match while I sit on my fat butt and eat cotton candy and Skyscraper dogs?  Or I'm going to watch TV?  If none of these phrases end with 'on the moon' then they're probably not newsworthy.

If I wanted to read about dumb things you say and hear your opinions and stuff that doesn't matter to most people I'd read your stupid blog.

And if you conclude you really do need to broadcast every little thing....well...that just makes me mad.

2) Okay.  So I guess the main point is really Facebook just makes everyone look stupid.  Like photos.  I get it - you think you look awesome or someone else thinks you look awesome and they want everyone to be privy to such awesomeness.  This awesomeness is rarely in existence.  It's like Lady Gaga just showing one butt cheek.  Not awesome.
For one thing, even back in the olden days where you'd go to someone's house and be forced to sit through slide shows people didn't like it.  So why is it people think other people want to see them drunk and disorderly in a way that's not at all charming like certain drunks from film and television?  I don't want to see it.  I know plenty of other people who don't want to see it.  Let's just stop seeing these photos shall we?

And if you don't want to see photos of someone or reminded of their existence in the first place, you toddle onto Facebook and WHAM - you're met with a barrage of photos of people you didn't like in the first place, people you liked but who you don't anymore, people you like but who don't like you and your dumb friends who you see all the time anyway and who's picture you probably took in the first place.

Or someone you're trying to erase from memory and practically had just POPS back into your consciousness like an evil bee repeatedly stinging your brain, leaving lasting effects.
This is unnecessary.  Or you find out horrible things about people you thought you liked from seeing pictures of their actions and the company they keep.  Seeing pictures of people doing things you don't want to see stinks.  This is why I avoid photography exhibits with indelicate subject matter.  But you can't avoid the internet!
And then you feel stupid for wasting time looking at dumb pictures you hate and/or you think other people are more stupid for doing the things they're doing.

3) Messages about events.  Are.  The Worst.  I didn't want to go to your event in the first place and I have to keep hearing about it and getting messages about it and seeing who all is going to the stupid thing.  In real life you don't hippity hop up to people you barely know and say, "COME TO THIS BIG THING I PLANNED."  Then go away for a day, then come back and say, "YOU BETTER COME TO THIS THING - REMEMBER I PLANNED IT!"  Then come back 10 minutes later and say, "PLEASE COME AND OOPS IT ACTUALLY GOES TIL 5:30 NOT 5."  And then return again later and say, "HERE'S YET ANOTHER REMINDER FOR THIS THING!!  COME PLEASE COME PLEASE PLEASE!"

You'd look like a maniac.  Facebook permits this maniacal behavior.  And I don't care for it.  Not one bit.  So let's just stop with it.  Please.

-

This has gotten out of hand.  I may have written this while greatly in need of happy-making snacks and niceties.  And this rambling may have come off negative and you might say, "HEY - if you don't like Facebook get out of the kitchen!  Don't be so mean!  Why you so mad!?!?!"  And I'd say, "HEY - HEY - if I have to look at your dumb life and/or read about it - you can do me the same courtesy.  Also, shut your face.  And also - this is my ship and I'm driving it.  If you don't like it you're free to jump out the ship's door while I'm speeding along the sea highway at anytime."

Friday, October 15, 2010

jobs 'n' crafts!

Today I had a job interview, where in which we were asked to craft something within 10 minutes and I made this.
Is it the most beautiful thing in the world?  No!  Is it the most complicated?  NO!  But was it the best one at the GROUP interview?  Yes.  Yes, it was.  This leads me to my topic of discussion today - interviews.  I firmly believe group interviews are the worst invention known to man.  Unless I am a cow at a country dance or a clam in a jar, I don't want to do anything in a group.  Any interviews, I mean.  

The questions are already so silly and then you have to sit there and smile while 4 other dopes answer some stupid question that a monkey could answer with its mouth taped shut and it's tail tied to its stomach.  And if it's an especially basic question you have to hear the same thing 4 times and then when it's your turn you have to try and make something up to make yourself stand out so you don't look like just another smelly dog in a basket.
And it's inappropriate to laugh at what someone else decides is a good answer and especially inappropriate if they decide to improv an entire situation and play multiple roles to make their point.  And you have to politely snortle when they make some hosebeast type joke about how they're just too chipper.  You can't just roll your eyes or fart in their general direction.  
And in my case you have to then think about what you're wearing in comparison to some old lady who decided to wear a blazer and a business skirt with big old heels.  This isn't the 1800s.  We don't have to wear our hair in a floating cloud orb about our skulls.  But perhaps do I look too casual in my usual work interview attire?  
I usually choose to wear a tasteful paperbag dress or to wear overalls and hold an enormous cookie.

Anyway.  
This interview was fun on account of getting to use a glue stick and glitter and stamps and paper.  I decide here and now that all jobs should require you to make something.  I think it would be especially fun if you forced applicants into a room full of instruments and asked them to make a song.  Or maybe stick them in a room with cardboard boxes and ask them to make a city.  Or a robot.  OR A ROCKET.  Or stick them in a kitchen and make cookies.  Make anything really.  You should probably do that when trying out prospective friends.

Or at least get them to eat a bucket of paste.

Monday, October 11, 2010

rogue ovary starring george ovary

So a few days ago I saw a documentary television program on mail-order brides from Russia.  It was what you would expect - overweight American men who had uninteresting or no jobs signing up on a website that Russian women also sign up on in the hopes of making a love connection.

NOTE - I used to watch Love Connection everyday with my nanny who was from New Zealand.  She also loved the Atlanta Braves.  And had no real teeth.  But that's another story.

Anyway.  There was one guy who sent his Russian love interest a lot of money for a plane ticket to come to America and marry him.  I think they met one time in Russia or maybe in America, I don't know.  And so he goes to the airport to pick her up and she doesn't come out and he waits for hours.  And then he talks to the camera, saying how this happened before.  That's just embarrassing.  But, eventually, this lady does emerge and he's overly happy and it's creeptastic.

Not in this particular case for any person on this mail order show because they were all pretty creeptacular in the bad way BUT

I always feel bad for people who just look creepy or act creepy but aren't, in fact, creeps.  Some people can't help if they have brown hair or blue eyes or an extra toe or whatnot, so these people can't help their creepiness.  And why is it creeps get celebrated on television and movies - like The Addams Family or the The Munsters or The Oblongs.  
And in TV and movies creepy guys or girls are always deserving a makeover.  And then they realize they don't need a makeover.  Or someone insults them and then the protagonist gets to save the day and defend them or some such garbage.  When in real life these creepy type people are left to their own devices.  And rarely do they get a makeover or defended in public places.  I know I have no desire to engage creeps in conversation, let alone waste my makeover skills on them.  And perhaps that is what's wrong with America.

I mean, yeah, it's one things if they are a true creep but most people are just slightly strange anyhow.  And it's funny how there are plenty of weird people but not really plenty of people who go around coming to their rescue.  Like Elle Woods in Legally Blonde defending that nerdy creepy guy.  
His name was David Kidney.  Which I know because I've seen Legally Blonde too many times.  And because how many people/fictitious characters have last names that are human organs?  That's memorable!  Like the new detective character I'm writing - George Ovary.  He has a lot of crazy cases to solve.  And he seems absent-minded, but he notices more than you think he does.  And he may or may not have been born with a rogue ovary.  OH - ROGUE OVARY.  I think I have the title of the first book in the series.  I think I most certainly do...

Or.  You know.  We could scratch this whole thing.  Because some creeps are creepy.  And I'm not looking to drive anyone into the arms of creeps.  Those arms might be pock-marked and scaly.  Most creeps aren't lovable monster hybrids like Addams Family members of Munsters.  If there were people like Munsters you can bet I'd be marrying one of them.  

How cool would that be?  To be like, "Hey, guys.  I'm a normal human and this is my husband -  THE INVISIBLE MAN."  Just look how stylish this guy is.
He's more stylish than most visible people.  Just imagine.  You'd be the shiniest pork in the bun with that husband.  Plus, nobody would want to make him over.  Because he would be awesome.  And also, invisible.  So, I mean, how do you give an invisible person a makeover?  It'd be very difficult.  It's just neat to have a weirdo Munster person around.  And just think of all the invisible man's erotic misadventures! 
Okay.  So don't think about that.  That'd be creepy.  OH - that reminds me of that one time I watched Anna Nicole Smith's reality show and she talked about having sex with a ghost.  I'd like to forget that time.  Anyway.  Back to supercool monsterpeople friends.

Like Teen Wolf.  
Like, "Hey , y'all.  This is TEEN WOLF.  He's my friend."  People would be all, "Whoa!  That's cool."  And then they'd give you a friendship bracelet.  Well.  Actually that might be because he's really Michael J. Fox.  Either way - a teen wolf or a teen Michael J. Fox - you're gonna get a lot of friendship bracelets.

HOT TIP - Don't date someone who just dresses up like a movie monster/creature.  Like don't date some dude who dresses as Frankenstein and works at Universal Studios.  That's not awesome.  And that guy most likely terrified me the last time I went to Universal Studios.  Those guys aren't even acting.  Except the ones who show their faces.  But even then, I'm pretty sure they're not allowed to talk.  Which is weird.  

Did anyone else have the game Monster Madness as a kid?  I can't think of any of my friends who had it...
So I guess all I'm really saying is that I like monsters going about their everyday lives.  Like imaginary monsterpeople.  Not like fellow citizens who do horrible monstrous things.  Thow how rotten of them to give monsters a bad name.  Jerks.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Sunday, October 3, 2010

sweet jolly batmans

There is a butter museum.

BUTTER MUSEUM!!

In Ireland.  And I think I clearly have to go.  

And I probably should just surrender to my desires and be a butter maker.  Or a full-time butter eater.
Butter sculptures.  Yeah.