Saturday, December 17, 2011

Internet Crap I Just Can't Live Without

The title should be self explanatory. If it's not, you're screwed. Clap your hands say GO:

(In no particular order, ish I visit on the daily)

This is where I get my meme fix for the day. Content is continuously updated every minute or so and you will undoubtedly lose your soul to this site. Hilarity ensues. Plus it's a great way to make yourself and your friends that are also on 9gag seem cooler than you are. Create that hipster bubble, create it real good.

Dirty poop garden of nonsense.

So, I'm a little weirded out to admit that I read a mommyblogger site. But damn it if it isn't the truth. This lady, Heather Armstrong, is the sassiest, funniest, most relate able mom for a non-mom (me) I've ever read. I want to be her friend and high five her regularly because she makes me bust my proverbial gut so much. But start at the beginning of her blogs is all I ask. I dunno, check her out, if you hate her then we can no longer be friends. No biggie.

4.  the fourteen, aka
The Fourteen is an ingenious blog by a current Columbia University student going through the MFA Acting Class of 2014. It follows their trials and tribulations through one narrative voice with guest spots here and there. I like it because it takes you through an experience you would otherwise be excluded from. I mean, who hasn't wanted to get their Masters from Columbia freaking University? Well, now you get to. Except for the Meh.

This is a daily news compilation by a right wing nut job. Sure, he totes hates Obama, and sure he can do a little fear mongering every now and again. But for a left wing tree hugger such as myself, its nice to gain a little perspective every now and again. We can't always cling to our Johnny Huffington Post ideals.

See what I did there? Get your left wing blog on and read some super entertaining, thought provoking, political prose by Alec Baldwin and other celebrities who actually know what they're talking about...for the most part.

7. the adventures of pretentious mcknowitall in the eighth dimension, aka
This sass master's blog is all about giving bad movies a good literary raping. Whilst being sassy.

Elaine Carroll is so much funnier than you and I will ever be and she proved it by creating a web series based on a caricature of Mary Kate Olsen and her bodyguard name Bodyguard and a life of Prozac smoothies and Vera Wang snuggies. Comic muthafugging Gold. Updated every so and so.

9. suri's burn book, aka
Written in the classic narrative style of 5 year old fashionista Suri Cruise (daughter of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes), this blog is for betches everywhere who are ready for Suri to put all those other "celebrity children" in their rightful place.. directly below her child sized Manolo Blahniks. Take none of it seriously, and enjoy absolutely all of it.

10. jenna marbles, aka
I have no words. She just is. You must see to believe. DONT watch if you are easily offended...because, dear god. Actually, if you're easily offended you probably shouldn't be reading this blog in the first place, so...ya know. Stop it.

Ok ten is enough to keep you busy for the next three years. Thank me by sharing my blog with your friends and people you hate.

Merry Holidays Chaps and Chippies!

Friday, November 25, 2011

Memes Part 4: The Celebrity Meme

Time to get our celebrity meme on and to educate yoself before you....wreck... yoself? Meh. Close enough. OH! that reminds me of a non-celebrity meme that goes a little something like this:

Close Enough Dude takes awesome sayings and talents and does them to a degree that is suitable enough for his or her taste. Say you want to have a fancy shmancy date and impress the person whose pants you're trying to shimmy your way into, so you attempt to make something like this:

But it ends up looking like this:

Close Enough Dude would swoop in and be like BAM:

He's really good at making the world feel better about our own mediocrity. High five CloNuff. Very High Five.

Now, on to the celebs. Aren't you totes excited?!?! No?...that's fair. But I'm doing them anyway.

#1 Not Bad Obama
Not Bad Obama is slightly impressed by what you're doing there. As seen here:

As you tra-la-la around the interwebs, you'll find that Obama is impressed by a lot less than that, but punching a bear in the face is fa sho worthy of a "Not Bad." Not bad indeed, former US Ski Team member Ani Haas.

#2 The Freddie Mercury Rage Pose
Freddie Mercury, the lead singer of Queen, has a lot of talents, but rage posing might just be the one that makes him a god among memes. Nothing says "Yes. I win." like:
This thing has success written all over it. This is actually the ending pose of my happy dance (a succession of dance punches and kicks followed by none other than...RAGE POSE).

#3 The Kanye "Imma Let You Finish" Meme
Kanye will go down in flames...I mean infamy.. for his epic pwn of Taylor Swift at awards thingys. I don't watch awards shows, because well...I don't give a shit. But even I know about this embarrassing celebrity moment, and if there's anything that can make an amazing meme, it's an epic f*ck up by a famous person (I'm sparing you the Rebecca Black memes for reasons that should be obvious). Kanye's meme is gonna let you get back to your business, but wants you to know someone else's business was the best business of the year. Case in point:

Inappropriate? Highly. Hilarious? Even more so.

Memen so hard mutherf*&ers try to fine me.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Memes Pt.3!!!!!!

Meme #3!!! I'm using exclamation points to portray my excitement!!! Join me won't you!!!!

Ok, calm your cakes down.

Meme #3: Forever Alone Guy

Forever Alone Guy is a depiction of all the hilariously depressing points of being single. I liken it to Dane Cook's joke "When you don't have love, it's like there's a party going on, and everybody was invited, except for you. And you just happened to be walking by that house in the rain... (chokes on tears) "I wasn't invited to this party." 

Instances for appropriate use of Forever Alone Guy are as follows:

1. Riding a tandem bike alone

2. Drinking a milkshake with two straws alone

3. Owning a Japanese body pillow 

4. Being the guy that comes up to an already ensuing conversation and laughing along with everyone else when you have no idea what the joke is. It's probably you, Forever Alone Guy. The joke was probably about you. At least you've proven you can laugh at yourself. Way to go, buddy! don't touch me. 

5. When you're mom asks if you have a girlfriend you say "Yes, her name is Siri, and she's perfect."

The above picture shows you that there are certain levels of awesome to Forever Alone Guy. Sure, he's alone. Sure, he's weird. Sure, he probably smells pretty gnarly. But dude knows how to enjoy his life sans companionship. I don't see it stopping him from having an epic light saber fight as seen above. And to that I say "Mad props, yo." 

Mad. Props. 

Friday, November 4, 2011

Memes Pt.2

Let's do this! Not wastin' no time no how! Meme #2: Me Gusta

Me Gusta is pretty self explanatory but none the less it is very important in understanding while traipsing about the interwebs. Me Gusta is a meme that comments on the almost inappropriate level of appreciation for a certain something or other. Creepy-Like status if you will. A good literary comparison of Me Gusta is Lenny from Of Mice and Men and his affinity for soft things, like mice, and lady hair, and rabbits, and then accidentally killing those things because he pets them too hard. See? Creepy Like. Doesn't have to be as drastic as murder mind you, just as long as there is a level of enjoyment that's not necessarily socially acceptable. 

My own personal Me Gusta might be akin to coming home to a freezing house and immediately suiting up into footie pajamas that are covered with brightly colored skulls and crossbones. Am I five, you may ask? No, I'm closer to 30 than I am to 20 and I do not fear rocking the shit out of a onesie. Bam. Me Gusta. 

Now a simple math equation: Me Gusta + My Adult Onesie =

And there you have it. A Meme! Even if you don't know me and my weirdo love of footed pajamas, you can now understand that's what I'm conveying with this picture, sans words. Bing bang boom, you are now 2% more of a hipster than you were before you read this blog.

And yeah there's a big white space attached to the picture that I don't know how to get rid of. I'm not a Paint magician, OK!?

Keep posted for Part 3 kiddles. 

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Explaining Memes to the Masses

Note: This post topic will be split into several separate posts. Mostly because if I were to do the whole shebang in one glorious shot it would be far too long for my patience...this sentence is even too long for my patience and also other stuff too, reasons and whatnot. So, before I start playing with balls of yarn and shiny things, let's do this.

If you're on Facebook you've probably noticed a growing trend of people filling the crap out of your newsfeed with pictures of hilarious cats saying hilarious things in hilarious cat talk and other various picture creations that have only one goal: to make you laugh your balls off.

These are memes (pronounced meems). Now you may wonder, are some memes more popular and well known than others? You bet your sweet pinchable tushy there are. In fact, there is a set of faces with expressions that satirically comment on life and other such nonsense and are universally recognizable. Stay tuned because this is vital to your cool points and will no doubt get you laid (lies). They are as follows:

The "Troll"

The Troll is known for high end tomfoolery and assholery. A "troll's" main goal is to get people riled up for the sole purpose of effing with them and getting a reaction. They are Class A poop buckets and you need to be wary of when you go all wang chung on them. They like that. It feeds them and their soulless souls. Granted it's usually done to make stupid people look seen here

Or to dabble in giggle worthy trickery at someone else's expense. It's ok though, the victims are usually dumb enough to deserve it. As seen here...

So as you can see, Troll's are not all bad. They are your run-of-the-mill lovable assholes. And we all know someone like that and we are grateful for the simultaneous entertainment and headaches they provide. So that's Section One of Knowing your Memes. I know I know, it was an awesome bomb of knowledge and you are currently digging truth shrapnel out of your scarred flesh and you want more, but this is MY blog and I DO WHAT I WANT. See you next time. Kisses.

Bleghk! NO TONGUE. 

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Home Is Where Your Mang Is

About 6 years ago I lived in L.A. (Santa Monica to be specific, Colby and Wilshire to be anal)  and I really didn't like it. More like hated it. More like darkest time of my life status.

Don't get me wrong there were definite Ups, like my friends from school and musical theater, but I never really got close enough to anyone to have a "best" friend or support system while I was living in a place of constant judgment and failure. Not to mention I didn't have stellar confidence going into this mess (a proverbial no no, see if you didn't grow up in LA don't move to LA unless A. you have a support system of friends, B. a good setup you can call home and feel safe from bedbugs and rapists, or C. you were brought there for work. Otherwise, don't act all surprised when the pet monkey of that homeless guy on Santa Monica Blvd is throwing his LA monkey caca all over your life. It just wasn't a copacetic setup (see what I did there? It was like rhyming, but not quite....moving on) so I said "peace out" and moved back to Sac (Sacramento if you're nasty) to a very happy high five filled life.

Skip to 4 years later when my best friend/ roommate/ lifesource decides she's gonna up and move to LA leaving me to follow in her intern footsteps and pout relentlessly at her decision. Well, long story short, her experience of LA was in direct opposition to mine, and I say it's because she followed the above steps. She had a lot of friends that lived in LA she knew from college, she found what is probably the best kept secret apartment for winners and is currently being better than you in it, AND she has successfully integrated herself into an amazing theatre company that does exactly the kind of work she loves. What the what?!?!?

Skip to the last couple times I've visited her here. It's not...the unhappiest place in the world anymore. I keep trying to figure out what changed...did LA get a makeover? why are people more smiley than I remember? and then I's because my Mang is here. It's because I don't give homeless man's monkey's flying crap whether people are judging me because I'm old enough to know who I am now and relish in the fact that life is in fact what I make of it. I always thought that was crazy talk growing up. Life is what you make of it? Infinite eye roll ensues. But it's true. Those crabby stick up their ass adults knew what they were talking about ( and that's us now! We are the crabby stick up our ass adults!)

Isn't that great? Everything else I wanted to say sounds so School House Rock so I'm gonna put the kabash on that and go for a jog (pronounced yog when you want to pretend you speak spanish) and discover things, maybe almost get hit by a car, and vision quest the bejeezus out of this day.


Tuesday, August 23, 2011

I have a theory....

So ...Jesus, right? Immaculate conception, or did Mary just get unwittingly boned by a ninja?

Think about it.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Will this girl EVER shut up about zombies???


This post isn't so much about zombies (psh, who am I kidding, it's a LOT about zombies, but there's other stuff too) as it is about the way our perception of a writer/novelist/book-maker-upper changes the way we read and enjoy books.

I just finished the first two of the saucy threesome that is Day by Day Armageddon by J.L. Bourne. I got the first one for my birfday and finished it within a matter of 7 hours. I. Could. Not. Put. It. Down. Not only was it comparable to zombie fiction gold like World War Z by Max Brooks, it was a whole new level because of the in-depth tactical explanations and mind blowing suggestion of what may have caused the zombie apocalypse (the final explanation will hopefully be fleshed out in the third and final book because sweet baby jebus let me tell you, my brain hurts from looking on forums and then having to google things like "nanobots," the "Compton Scattering Effect," "crumple drive," and "physics" Is important? To understand things??? Not a fan.) <---Wow, if you were expecting me to use parenthesis correctly at any point and time in this blog or in my life for that matter, you are in for a world of pain ma friend. It's real, and despite as gross and impossible it is to understand it serves it's purpose allowing the author to walk a very fine line between reality and fiction. It also does a world of good for the credibility of the author to be clearly immersed in the facts of the supposed reality he or she is asking you to believe in. I find this to be especially true in Orson Scott Card novels. That dude has studied his military history and space gooblety gock fa sho. Ender's Game is hands down the book I have most reread in my entire life. About thirty times. The others in the series are more than worth a returning read, but I keep going back to that one like literary meth. Or...cough syrup (that's addicting right? It's delicious I know that much).

I don't know if I'm just a weirdo banana goo goo, but I really like researching the background of the authors of books I connect to, and get epically immersed in. I feel like I'm getting an even more intimate look at something I've dissected with love. Once I got to know some more things about Orson Scott Card, my brain stamped a resounding approval on a man I have never met before. Through interviews and Forewords I decided "decent human being, someone who is bettering the world with his words." At that point I became even more involved with a genre I had never touched before (Sci-Fi). It became a semi-obsession. I had to have every book by this writer because I felt I was bettering myself through osmosing (you know what I mean) off a person I admired.

I did the same thing with John Green, but the process was backwards-sauce. First I was a fan of his personality through his charming nerd video blog that he created with his brother Hank Green. Through this venue I discovered he was a writer and thus my next collection of interest-in-author-based book purchases began. And I wasn't disappointed, oh no, somehow the reading experience was heightened by having a log of John's vocal signatures and inflections in my mind grapes from watching so many Vlogbrothers videos, like he was reading the book to me. Same with David Sedaris. I listened to one of his audiobooks on a long trip and after that I gained so much happy good times from reading his books with his voice in the narration seat. I watched hilarious clips of his appearances on talk shows and took even more joy in the knowledge that the author I chose to admire was legit, funny for realz, and someone I would high five in life (although David Sedaris wouldn't be in this equation as he has a phobia of people touching him).

So what happens when you find out you don't really care for the personality of an author whose book you really like, eh? Some would say, who gives a shit, it's not like you're ever going to hang out with this person, and just because YOU don't like what they have to say in real life doesn't mean other people don't. Well you have a valid point but for the sake of my argument I'm going to ask you to, for the time being, shut your dirty cock holster. As I mentioned before, I was visiting a certain discussion forum after having read the second book in the Day by Day Armageddon series. This forum was special because the author himself would post some responses to the posits of his fans and what their expectations and theories for the third and final book were. And that's when shit went downhill for me as a reader who likes to like the author as a person. One of the fan posts was as follows:

"I do not think sub-nanotechnology is a million years beyond our grasp right now. I do however believe that detecting sub-nanotechnology is beyond out current technological limitations. .5 angstrom is .005 nanometres. For there to be sub-nano circuitry you would have to have a resolution greater than that. .5 angstrom resolution allows you to see the spaces and edges of an atom. What you are talking about you would have to be able to actually see the atom with a resolution to see the electrons, protons, and neutrons of the atom. I am not calling bullshit on what your saying just that I dont think we are a million years from the point of that kind of observation."

I told you science sucks to read about. But anyways, this was a fan's opinion and in an open forum he had every right to share it. This was the response of the author to the above post:

"I don't need you to agree with me.  I'm the one writing the novels, not you.  Feel free to write your own novel, get it published somehow and have people that think they know something about nano-tech/sub-nano tech TRY and pick it apart, unsuccessfully.  Good luck." 

Ugh. What's that sour taste in my mouth? Oh yeah, it's your ATTITUDE Mr. Writer Man! Dude was just trying to get his nerd on and debate physics like bros do ( they don't) and you've got to shut him down like that? Un-savory, good sir. That's what I say. Now I said I had already read the first two books before reading this forum and the third one has yet to be released but I had put it on pre-order when I ordered the second book. But when I read that statement I felt myself cringe at the thought of reading it, of being one of the many readers paying for this guy's fame and fortune when he didn't seem to even appreciate his fans. I began to think of the things I didn't really care for in the second book. All because I assessed someone's attitude as "not the hero I wanted him to be." You know what that makes me? A dookie head. 

How dare I make a snap judgment on someone's personality that I have never and statistically will never meet face to face? Maybe Bourne was having a bad day, maybe he was sick of his work that he's put so much time and effort into getting pulled apart by the physics bullies. Seriously, what's has two thumbs and is total dookie head? This beezy (points to self, jabs self in eye on accident). Maybe give someone the benefit of the doubt today like I should have done instead of rage stroking at the failure of an icon that didn't live up to the role he didn't choose for himself, but that I placed upon him. 

Because in the end, aren't we all just one big world of dookie heads?

Sunday, July 3, 2011

The Adult Diaper Chronicles

Don't let the title throw you. You'll start reading this and think, what the hell does this blog have to do with adult diapers and all I can say is, trust me, we'll get there.

So I've been feeling lately that I have officially reached that transition in one's life, that everyone goes through, where they lose touch with the current Youth of the times and their stupid interests and feelings. If I sound embittered it's only because that was my heyday not too long ago. So these little bastards can suck it (I kid...mostly). This transition of "losing touch with today's youth" is followed by the distant future transition of "losing touch with reality" and then shortly thereafter the transition of "losing touch with my bladder control." Hence, adult diapers. BOOYAH, got there faster than I thought I would *takes a break to momentarily high five myself*. I'm not exactly sure when I lost touch with the current pop culture and its inner workings but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with shifting out of college and into the real world. Some people might think, "Whatevs, I work while in college. I KNOW the real world." And then they add a "psshh" for good measure and then I'm like "Stop sipping on your Haterade and imbibe my logistics for sec." Insert "Gahhhhd" here. College is a warm blanket of reassurance, with built-in friends, mentors, and posters that tell you what's cool so you don't even have to think about it. College plans your events and gives the ego boosting feeling of being "involved" in something bigger than yourself. A "purpose" one might call it. Then you get out of college and nobody hands you shit. Unless you're on a city bus, and then the probability of someone handing you actual shit goes up immensely. Yeah college should have prepared  you with a pretty good base of where to go and what to do to pursue your dreams (which will change every five seconds after college, because usually your dream jobs don't pay well and parents are notorious for not footing your bills after college, as well they should be) but you realize very quickly that you don't really know what you're doing or what the hell is going on in general. Welcome to Adulthood! So, in scrounging around for something to do to pay for things like talking to the morons at Comcast for six days in a row because they don't really seem to know what cable is or how to "provide" it, you will lose touch with current music, fashion, and youthful trends. It happens. And I feel pretty ok about it. Let's go to Example Time. For example, I've heard from various sources, numerous in the past month, that highschool chaps and chippies like to do it in the B in order to avoid pregnancy. I'm all for avoiding teen pregnancy but I'm's still your B. When did that get thrown on the table? For high school kids? Those crazy poop mongers! Ehhh, ok ya know what...I'm gonna steer away from this episode of Example Time because I have firsthand knowledge that family members of mine read this blog and if my consistent use of profanity hasn't disappointed them enough I'm pretty sure talking about high school butt sex is a one way ticket to them disowning me. Oh god I hope my grandfather never learns how to properly use the internet.

Sooo onward we go. To the diapers. THE DIAPERS I SAY! I don't know what everyone is so scared about. If I had my way, adult diapers would already be an acceptable part of daily living for any one, any age, any mobility. Can you imagine how much time you would save and more work and creative endeavors you could get done if you had the freedom of crapping whilst doing so? It's all about multitasking, people. And those feint of heart might think "But the smell! The smell!" To that I say get Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and a couple dudes from NASA on it and I'm sure they could whip us up something real nice, free of smell. I bet we could even get a green friendly diaper doodad going if we put our minds to it. My point is it's all about perspective. That's always my point. I have very few points but many derivations and useless examples for each. It's kind of my thing. You think getting old is scary? Yeah well, nut up and look at all the awesome stuff. One of my biggest fears about getting old is crazy ugly wrinkles, flabby skin, and the battle to stay thin or even medium, getting harder and harder (because I'm not the hugest fan of "trying" or "making an effort"...especially when it comes to working out) but it's going to happen. All I can do is make sure my brain is really awesome by that time because no one's going to wanna hang around me to swoon over my tube sock boobs. But there's cool stuff too! Like retirement! And old people homes! Playing card games all day, reading, pondering, and developing a wiser understanding of the world? Um, yah. I could definitely get down on that. I'm here to infer (because granted I don't actually know) that it doesn't get worse as we get older. It just gets...different. And different can be pretty rad.

(You can bet your ass I'll be rockin tiaras at age 90. And I already have those glasses. Good to go.)

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I dream of Meatie

I HATE THIS. What was I thinking? No meat for a month. Stupid. Just stupid. My dreams are now being invaded with visions of hot dogs and food courts where I straight up gorge myself on the nearest savory dead animals. Yeah yeah I'm trying new things. And yeah yeah most of those things are really delicious i.e. black bean soup with onion, cilantro, cumin, and vegetable broth (crazy tasty times a million) but am I satiated? Hello no. Do I feel better? Nope. If anything I'm a more consistent nap taker because I'm tired ALL THE TIME. I am going to finish out my self proclaimed sentence but I am not happy about it. And mark my words, come July 4th I will celebrate my American heritage by participating in the age old tradition of gluttonous meat eating. I will welcome the stomach ache and meat sweats because I can. Then I'll do a wicked burnout in my Mustang and the crowd will go wild. Jealous? Thought so.

The author neither condones nor discourages anyone from vegetarianism, veganism, or carnivor...ism. Cannibalism is a maybe, depending on your current predicaments. Try things, do what works for you, and high five the world whilst doing so.

                                     (Meatwad make the money see. Meatwad get the honeys G.)

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Veggie Update-a-Roo

Hey remember when I said I would update this every other day? Yeahhhh, well I think we all know now that that's simply not gonna happen. I am a creature of procrastination and healthy doses of laziness. So here we are. 2 weeks later and I'm here to tell you being a vegetarian is suspiciously easy. Granted, I do sometimes get a hankering for a juicy burger or a delicious taco...a pizza with a wall of cascading pepperonis, glistening with an oily dew. Whoa ok, I might be going through a little bit of withdrawal. But for the most part it's kind of exciting to try something new. Tofu burger from Crepeville? To that I say Not Too Shabs. Asparagus salad with feta and almonds from Bernardo's? Stupid delicious! One important thing I learned about vegetarianism is that it is a lot harder if you don't plan ahead with your meals. I ate a bag of nuts (hahahahha...bag of nuts) one day because I forgot to pack my lunch the night before. Lack of fore-planning may result in a brutal case of the CrankyPants McGoo's. I like reading interviews so I thought I might create a fake one in order to up the ante blog-wise and sum up this semi-boring completely self-indulgent subject. Enjoy!

So Lady I've Never Met Before, do you feel healthier now that you've been a vegetarian for 2 weeks?


Have you lost any weight since becoming a vegetarian?


Well you look great.

Are you hitting on me? 

Oh, no. God no. Um, let's move on. Do you think you will continue with your vegetarianism even though the goal was only for a month?

I think I might extend it for another month and then expand into a pescatarian diet. Fish has a crap load of good stuff for you and I like getting those Omega 3's so I can continue to awe the world with the power of my brain. 

Wow, that's very...humble of you to say...

I know. 

I think we're done here.

So there you have it. Two weeks in the can and still going strong. DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK.

Monday, June 6, 2011

A Meat Eater's Vegetarian Experimonth

I love me some meat. It pleases me. I have never once in my life considered the option of being a vegetarian or vegan (vegans still scare the bejeezes out of me. Anyone with that amount of willpower should go kick it in their Fortress of Solitude with their distant cousin Kal El and leave us under achievers to our procrastination and awesome ability to disappoint those around us) so I think a lot of people who know me and my voracious meat eating habits would raise an eyebrow or two at the choice to try out vegetarianism for a month that is not in any direct relation to Lent (I don't "do" Lent but I do appreciate its comedic value at the thought of people giving up chocolate and trans fats to bring them closer to God). My Robot (if you're confused by that reference Re: Blog Below This One) used to be a vegetarian as well until my use of the word "hippie" in regards to his eating habits slowly wore him down and broke his spirit. It is to this day one of my proudest accomplishments in our relationship. Actually this whole situation plays out like the Modern Family episode where Claire goes psycho bananas on Phil for never trying anything she suggests, but when other people suggest it, it sounds exotic and exciting. As per usual Robot plays the girl and I play the clueless husband who just can't seem to get it right.


So allow me to explain myself. I have found out the hard way that I am merely a brainwashed minion for the overlords known as John and Hank Green (the Vlogbrothers of YouTube fame) and their various ambitions to Decrease World Suck and make me and the rest of Nerdfighteria better social beings. Ugh. How dare they. Their latest devious ploy on my naivety involved the challenge to be a vegetarian for just one month and see how you like it, because it decreases the suck and torture of animals. And I was like "yes. YES. THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE. I WILL DO THAT IMMEDIATELY." And then I was all rainbows and sunshine until Robot's chagrin brought me back down to the muddy realization that I am a brainwashed minion and he was my Origin of Species when it came to vegetarianism, not those distant overlords who inspire my inner workings. SO, even though I'm getting into it for all the wrong reasons and I'm like 40 years late in the game, I'm going to be a vegetarian for one month and document it.......guess..... just do it...just do a little guessin for meh...HERE. Let the meat strike BEGIN!

                    (She can finally follow her dreams now that I won't be eating her this month.)

                                                                         Day 1

-Cold, so very very cold.

Nah but for real, this is cake status.

-Asiago Bagel with Sundried Tomato Cream Cheese and Avocado plus Strawbs and Grawps (if you want to say it fancy-like)

I had...crap, what did I have for lunch? I really don't remember but I know it wasn't meat and for arguments sake we'll say it was a salad. 

I had Tofu, Broccoli, and Carrots marinated in Kung Pao sauce over Fried Rice.

If you'd like to use my recipes for your own vegetarian diet...well it doesn't really affect me, now does it? So do whatever you want, I like you just the way you are. Yes. You. I'm right behind you. Ok ok I'm not right behind you, but you should be glad that I'm not. Can you imagine how strained our relationship would be if you turned around after reading that and then BAM there I was? We'd have some real trust issues to work out. Anyway, I'll be posting semi-daily with more boring nutritional updates and sporadic jabs at society with ever charming self deprecating humor you've come to know and tolerate. Join me won't you?

Now shoo.

Monday, May 30, 2011

An Ode to a Robot

I'd like to preface by saying...this is gonna get gross. And by gross I mean, it involves feelings of the goopy, mushy, kissy foo foo kind. Bleck, I know. I hate it too. But that's a minimal percent I promise. Still 90% kickassery and 5% made up words, with the left over 5% being the goop of which I speak.

So I met a boy, through two friends, through an awesome Victorian 4plex apartment where many lives were changed. We met on Halloween when I was dressed as Punk Rock Red (my own take on Little Red Riding Hood that involved black leather hiking books and fingerless gloves) and he as Brett from Flight of the Conchords (double swoon). He even came fully loaded with a guitar and ample knowledge of the FOTC playlist. He played, I sang, and one fateful picture was taken of the two of us posing with the guitar, his expression goofily happy and mine on the brink of "full rock out" mode (It is now on our fridge). A mismatched yet charming pair of strangers. And that was it...for a long time. It wasn't love at first sight or even second or third awkward high five hello while passing in the doorways. It was acquaintances bordering on mild friendship. Our mutual friendships put us in the same room for holidays, parties, and special occasions and enough conversations had been had to know that this was a stand up guy with a sense of humor so ridiculously hilarious that not everyone is cool enough to get it. And watching the people who don't get it, react to it, icing on the cake. 

I learned that he gave guitar and piano lessons for a living, so I sacked up and asked for a few guitar lessons in exchange for ...well, nothing I think. I think I just asked for free guitar lessons. Clearly I'm not one for manners. But fate being as it would, he obliged and came over to teach me the Harry Potter theme song, the famous asian riff that goes a little something like Dadadada-da-da-dun-dun-daa!, and various chords that I renamed to Dragon, Dumbledore, Apple, Egg, and other things that range in importance to me. I wanna say this was around the time where I became semi-smitten. I was in a "not a fan of love" phase of my life so this was a feat in and of itself. And then we went kayaking and saw a dinosaur bird and a deer and I knew then and there that whatever this was, it was made of a certain type of magic that I would be a fool not to pursue. So I did. 

This led to a long a courtship that resulted in the first holding of hands after about a month. And I'd like to remind you that this is people in their mid twenties. Also known as nerds. Ahhhh nerd love. It really is the best kind. And then came the first kiss that everyone and their mom witnessed. Clearly doorways are not made for first kisses. But all our friends get a nice, neat, hilarious memory from it so who am I to complain? 

After that it was mainly the Business of Fun that we attended to. Midnight bike rides, movies, chess, scrabble, coffee, dancing, walking, endless high fives, making up songs about the things we were currently doing (think Scrubs "Waffle Time Waffle Time, won't you have some waffles of mine?" but all the time and involving tooth brushing and everything else ever) and just so many other things that my brain gets tired thinking of them all. Because of all this, I discovered his true purpose in my life. Clearly, someone so perfect for me was nearer to an impossibility than anything else. So, being a fan of Occam's razor, I concocted this succinct little ditty. This boy was a Robot, sent from the future by Chinese scientists to kill me. Made to my exact specifications in order to dupe me into total vulnerable sicky goop love that my defenses were utterly shattered. And it worked! Oh by the hammer of Thor, did it! After discovering their evil plan I did what any sensible human being would do. I said "Well done evil scientists. I know this perfect Robot brings my doom, but ya know what? Totally. Worth it."


Wednesday, April 6, 2011

My Grandmother, Myself

Never leave your sentimental pictures in hiding spots you least expect to find them. Believe me, it will turn your shit upside down. Considering the picture in question, of my grandma and grandpa walking to their car from a trip to Morro Beach (even my use of the S word would offend my grandma so that I feel the need to redact it), is enough to spiral me into emotional oblivion.
I don't know if you've ever lost someone close to you, and I pray to God you don't, but if you have, I feel for you. My grandmother was the pinnacle of my existence for a very long time. And I'm sorry to get so dark and deep on you, but life consists of just as much laughs and tomfooleries as it does absolute anguish. Since inside-wise this blog is getting a little too painful to handle I'm gonna lighten things up by remembering the things I cherished most about June (G to the Ma) that I can't help but giggle at when I think about:
1. Romance Novels
     -Girl loved her some Fabio. At age 7-12 a favorite past time of cousins and co. was confiscating said novels and giggling at the consistent use of "nipple." Seriously romance novel writers, there ARE other areas of the female body.
2. The Wig
     -Even in the case of complete lack of hair loss, I guess the fear of losing locks was enough to purchase the hilarious Moe (of Curly and Larry fame) style do to which I would perform Annie songs in.
3. Movies that I'm Ashamed to Love but I Do
     -Easter Parade, While You Were Sleeping, and Under the Tuscan Sun are movies it would now it my present state of being never even occur to me to Netflix stream (Netflix stream has about ten movies that would actually interest me, and you probably) in the most dire of predicaments, but thanks to my grandma, I've seen an accumulative of 140 times while weeping, laughing, and indulging each and every time.
4. The Lackluster Wrapping of Gifts
     -No one could wrap a present like June Barger. Meaning, Wal Mart and Safeway could and do. Christmases filled with opening gifts with tags still on encased in plastic bags mean more to me than any fancy shmancy, hours of effort wrappings, will ever manage.
5. She was a Nurse
     -Free Jell-O yo.
6. The Most Loving Family You Could Ever Request Via Jesus
     -The fact that I hang out with my Aunt and Uncle every other week and love my mom more than you love loving things, is a testament to how cool my grandma was. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill church on Sunday family. This was your get-your-ass-in-the-car-so-we-can-drive-through-dangerous-fog-and-get-into-multiple-car-accidents-on-the-way-to-church-family. Our shit was dedicated. And she was the glue. If she told me to kill you, you would not be reading this. KITANA'ED. I honestly don't know how she did it, but the wake of her absence is felt beyond what even I comprehend.
7. Knick-knackery
      -I never knew what a "hutch" was until my grandma had three filled with exotic glass birds and Ming vases (One of which I broke, I was seven years old, so sue me) maybe twelve years old but you get the picture. I remember a very antique looking key that marked the entrance to my Dungeons and Dragons/Imaginationing dabbling, because if that couldn't open the door to a labyrinth, what could? 
           -Under the heading of Knick-knackery I'd like to include Nursery's. Not the baby kind, but of the Japanese plant persuasion. My childhood is brim full of them, where I would not find a love of botany, but a love of hide and seek Shrubbery 3.0 version. (June was surprisingly not a fan of this endeavor)

and last but very much not least...selflessness. I see it in my mother everyday. When I break everything I can possibly break, even as an adult (glasses, cars, phones, relationships. etc) she extends life and limb to solve my qualms. And I know this is in direct thanks to my grandmother. Sometimes I feel like, who would the world be/have been without her? Would it have just all stopped had she not come into the picture? Well, for me that's a definite yes, but for you...I hope you at least just wonder at the various other lives that have affected yours without your knowledge. Someone did something awhile ago and you are who you are because of it. So stay in skool, preach to the choir, be kind rewind, and any other inspirational ism that touches you. For your very own June Patsy Barger. Because, if not for them....then who?

Thursday, March 31, 2011

The Hipster-Oldster Correlation

I find that hispters are more than vaguely reminiscent of old people. And here's why:

1. They wear the same clothes.
     -Hipsters are representing their fashion sense by wearing what I like to call "grandma gear." More and more often I see young guys and gals sporting 60's and 70's vintage mom and dad wear. Not that I'm complaining, the only frustrating thing about this plain truth is that they can pull it off and I can't.

2. They are proud medicinal marijuana card holders.
     -Whether it's due to glaucoma or a raging case of the i-want-to-get-highsies, hipsters and oldsters alike seem to flock to cannabis cannery's like moths to a lava lamp.

3. They live in communes.
     -Hipsters live and vacay in communes to promote the good of the earth, while oldsters live in communes because sadly they have to. Either way I think communes are a pretty good idea and with population growth going the way it is, community living is probably the next step in social evolution. Plus, think of all the potlucks!

4. They're people watchers.
     -One of my favorite past-times with my great grandma was a little game we called "people watching," which is not so much a game as it is sitting and staring at things, specifically other humans going about their various activities. And if you've ever dallied around midtown you can feel the eyes of a thousand hipsters watching you as you go. Don't take it as an insult, they're just people watching (and probably judging, but mostly just the other thing).

5.They live in the memory of a decadent past.
      -The fact that most places that sell Ipods also sell record players insinuates that the youthful hipsters of today are kickin back with some dope LP's and a glass of their finest Ovaltine. This is one of the attributes I most admire about hipsters, because if they don't remember and cherish the radness of the past decades, who will? To your complete lack of Bieber fever, dear hipsters and oldsters, I salute you.

Thus concludes my daily observation. They're not all winners.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Damn it feels good to be a NINJA

Ninjas rule. I know it. You know it. Quentin Tarantino knows it. Thus his bajillion dollar Kill Bill franchise. Which brings me to point
A) Ninja Movies- where have they been and where are they going...also now, where are they now.
   subpoint A. I don't know how to do "points" so bear with me, if anything my battle with grammar and punctuation will be amusing.
        postsubpoint A. Just kidding, let's get back on track and screw the points.
So I'm gonna start my assessment with a little movie I like to call (as does its director and the guy who came up with its name) Ninja Assassin. Ninja movies are notorious for their sub-par plots salvationed by fight scenes that cause you bodily harm from being so awesome that you recreate them in your kitchen or garage with brooms that you break in half to serve as fighting staffs or fake nunchaku you treat as real nunchaku. Some bad ideas just feel sooooo gooood. But in Ninja Assassin I not only found a movie filled with enviable wall bouncing and chainlink knife swinging debauchery, but a pretty awesome idea as well. A rogue ninja who assassinates others ninjas? I'm sorry I didn't prelude that with SPOILER ALERT but if you can't infer that from the title then <insert joke about your obliviousness here>. I was pretty impressed with a plot that includes the irony of ninja vs. ninja, a misplaced heart (true spoiler suckas), and the ever needed ninja vendetta. Albeit there was a sub-par love story in there somewhere but I was practicing my spinning bird kicks through that noise. He needed someone to avenge right? Might as well be the girl who oh boo hoo can't hack it at ninja camp. It also leads me to believe that there are more ninja movies like these to come. I just high fived myself as should you. Movie makers are now giving us our cake AND letting us eat it.
Maybe I'm just a douche but as much as I enjoyed Iron Monkey my freshman year of high school, even then I wanted a little more than the cliche family avenger. However, I can't be too harsh because there is something truly magical about old timey black and white ninja movies. They completely transport you to another realm that is absolutely unlike your own. So they rule in their own right.
Then we get a little further down the line to visual beauties like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Hero. This marks the point in time when my happy dance was invented. It's a series of kicks and dance punches in case you queried. I cried in a very non-ninja like fashion during both films due to the intensely gorgeous imaging and crazy sad stories. So as far as going goes, I think ninja movies are on the right track, aging like a fine wine that can kill you in 70,000,000 ways. Proving my theory that life just keeps getting better in this genre is the fact that I got exactly what I wanted in a ninja movie except that a lot of people could argue that its not actually a ninja movie. Christmas morning joy is felt every time I witness

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

yeah, it needs it's own subspace. I literally need three more blog posts the length of this blog post to gush properly about this epic movie of all movies. But I won't. All I will say is that a movie that combines ninjas, comic book and video games references and imagery, Michael Cera, that one guy from Phantom Planet, and hilarious dialogue...op yep I peed a little.
I was gonna write more but this is soooo long and if you're attention span is anything like

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Zombie Apocalypse Training- The New 24hr Fitness

Soooo I have a minor obsession with the idea of a potential zombie apocalypse. As do most Americans I assume, judging by the ravenous zombie-based movie goers, TV hit AMC Walking Dead followers, Max Brooks readers (If you haven't read World War Z, I point the pointy finger of shame at you), and Zombie Pub Crawl enthusiasts. It's an epidemic, much like the zombie virus itself and I too have fallen victim to its awesomeness. For me, it's just a natural progression from my Buffy watching imaginary vampire slaying days, but  now I've taken the threat to a whole new level.
The change happened after reading the aforementioned book, World War Z by Max Brooks. If anybody can make the impending apocalypse feel real, it's that dude, hands mutherf&#*n down. Personal accounts that recount a past war of epic proportions fills every fiber of your being with fear, empathy, and a misplaced but necessary sense of badassness. It always surprises me when every person you ask pegs themselves as the for-sure survivors of the End of the World and their no-question ability to slay the undead. In all honesty, with every story perpetuating a percentage of survival at about 10% or less for ALL of civilization, the numbers just don't work in their favor. That being said, I would totally rock the zombie apocalypse and kitana my way to glory. Or at least I would try. And the effort starts here, in the now. I learned that from the follow up Max Brooks literary gold mine The Zombie Survival Guide. If I wanna follow in the footsteps of I Am Legend protagonist, Robert Neville (aside from the whole "minor descent into solitary madness and temptation to have sexy time relations with my dead wife" thing, talking about the book not the movie fyi) and survive day to day among the undead, I need to up my cardio workouts and STAT.
So I have a proposition (as I usually do) to start the Zombie Apocalypse Training Center for Winners!!! (I'm still debating the exclamation points). At our state of the art center you will excel at the wielding of various weaponry, strengthen your body to weather any situation, from climbing up to hard to reach places (because everyone knows the undead can't climb for shit) to trekking through various tundra on your search for survivors like yourself. Zombie simulated encounters included in your package! Call today!
Or...something to that effect. So join me in this effort, and tell your local gym to screw the conventional classes and give us something valuable like Undead Tactical Training to work with. Together, I believe we can barely survive this, and I mean that as the highest compliment to our human race. Actually that will probably be the catchphrase of the ZATCFW.

"Together we can. But just barely."

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Geeking Out on Nerdery

A certain type of phenomena has swept through our society that I am reaaaaaalllly diggin'. The Dawning of the Age of the Geek. It might just be me, but I give you evidence in the form of the highly popular merch website, the youtube channel of the Vlogbrothers, and the hit series The Big Bang Theory. From fashion choices (hipster glasses used to be the glasses you would gouge out your eyes before actually submitting to wearing and subjecting yourself to the mockery that those thick rimmed demons evoked... whoa flashback) to TV personalities (you might not think Jim and Pam or Conan O'Brien are geeks and to that I say you are wrong and probably stupid) to rapidly expanding our reservoir of knowledge (thank you Iphone) the people have spoken, and they're saying "We Want Geek."
To give you a basic background on how much of a Nerdy McNerderson I am (so as to quell your fears) I give you a list of things I go absolutely fangirl for:
1. Video Games
   -Super Street Fighter (and all other subsequent Street Fighters except for Beta and Beta 2, they can go straight to hell) Marvel vs. Capcom (every 1,2, and 3 of them), Dead or Alive, and I'm sure you're seeing a pattern here. Give me a fighting game where I can play a hot chick and I'm golden. I've been attempting Call of Duty Black Ops (Nazi Zombies) with Robot (nickname for my manfriend, I'll explain later) and truth of the matter is, I really suck at first person shooter games despite my very real passion for laser tagging. Oh yeah.
2. Laser Tagging
   -Simulating a video game with your very own body? Exercise you don't even notice because you're stalking the enemy, who is also your best friend? Being drunk while doing so? Yes please, I'll take three.
3. Books
   -I'm in long term relationships with a few of my books, Ender's Game, Ender's Shadow, Fahrenheit 451, Scott Pilgrim graphic novels (Graphic Novels should have it's own heading but I'm kind of tired, soooo.) and everything written by David Sedaris. However, any book will do. I like encyclopedias too, oh BOY do I. There's a place in Midtown (Sac) that is a literary mecca and that place is Beer's Books. I want to go to there. When I was a child one of my dreams was to live in the library, and when I was a teenager the only job I coveted was that of an independent book seller. I'm a nerd. And I love books.
 4. Scrabble, Boggle, Chess, Munchkins (it's basically Magic the Gathering for Beginner's)
   -. I will pwn you in Scrabble. Unless you're Dave Pierini and win every game against me except one, you rat bastard.
5. I had a point before I made this list and now I've forgotten what it was, let me scroll up and find out....

The point is I have a question. If all the geeks are the cool kids now, what happens to the cool kids? There's got to be a theorem or equation that explains the consequences of this transition. Also, why is it now that society has chosen to lift the nerd upon its shoulders and not when I was going through puberty? Hey Universe, refuse to bend to my will much? Gahhh. Rude. Anyways, I'm pretty happy about it and here's why. What society thinks is cool gets the most attention from the people who make and sell things. So what's happening is I'm finding more and more things that actually interest me and that I care about in mainstream easily accessible venues. I don't have to go to collector's to find a vintage something something from Star Wars or a Banksy wall decal of an adorable panda with handguns ( They're bringing this stuff to me and you now, and expanding our interests while we're at it. Welcome to the Age of the Geek, nerd.  

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Book Idea

I have a book idea. The book title (which I know you should never start with the book title but screw you I'm doing it anyway) would be called An Intellectual History of Farts. When I think about book ideas the first thing I do is think about things that I personally would want to read, not necessarily if I have any stories to tell (which it so happens, I don't, so it all works out). So today I farted, and beautiful inspiration came forth. Farts are weird right? Not socially acceptable, taboo, hilarious, and sometimes a relationship deal breaker. It is beyond my comprehension that there are some couples who have been together for years and years who have never F worded in front of each other. I personally find this ridiculous and a form of torture closely related to water-boarding. E-V-E-R-Y-B-O-D-Y  F-A-R-T-S. And this marks the point where my interest was peaked by my own inner brain workings. CEO's of major companies fart, Angelina Jolie farts, your mom farts, my dog farts, Obama Nation is a nation of farters. And you know there have got to be some crazy ass stories that go along with these human releases of pressure. I want to know! The people need to know. So here's the outline:
1. A Bitchin Title
    An Intellectual History of Farts (double check)
2. The First Few Chapters
    -Talkin about the science of farts or whatever (don't worry it gets better)
3. The Next Few Chapters
    -Famous Farts (I told you)
     *celebrity farts, political farts (from Senates to National Treaty Signings and beyond) and in general anyone who warrants our interest who has a documented flatulence to behold.
4. Chapter 7
    -Farting as a social taboo (are we more comfortable with farts now than say the 50's? What we learn from Sex and the City about farting, and what our go abouting when it comes to farting says about us)
5. The Last Few Chapters
   -I haven't quite thought that far ahead. Get back to me.
The End

Just a side note, I have no intention whatsoever of writing this book but I would really like it if someone else would, and then send me the intellectual license checks. Kthxbye.