Category Archives: life

Good things come in 3’s… right?

Thanks, Dude.

“Luck affects everything. Let your hook always be cast; in the stream where you least expect it, there will be a fish.” -Ovid (He’s old, don’t worry about it)

In the past 24-hours, three really great things have happened to me. And really great things don’t happen to me.

1) I was rewarded a scholarship that I neither applied for nor was expecting... Honestly didn’t even know about. Since my tuition is already free (HOPE Scholarship in GA= My angel) and all I pay is fees, I’ll be getting PAID about $500/semester to go to school. AND WHO DOESN’T LIKE GETTING PAID TO LEARN AND LIVE COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE LIFESTYLES WHILE HAVING NO CONCEPT OF THE AWFUL THINGS ASSOCIATED WITH GROWING UP AND ENTERING THE REAL WORLD? Not me….

SHOW ME THE MONEY! (Yes, that's me)

2) I rolled some change I’ve been saving (which by the way I would not recommend because it is tedious, gross, and boring. By the end of things my hands smelled strange and were a weird color and I almost had a panic attack thinking about how many different people had touched these coins and how many times I put my hands in how many gross places and how many other hands touched how many other gross places and how many of those coins have been around for how many years and so that is how many gross places and hands and years… you get the picture) to contribute to my trip back to Africa in December. My parent’s are making me pay for this go-round which has meant my life is NO FUN WHATSOEVER, so I’ve been saving saving saving pennies and dollars for about 2 weeks now– I had an even $100 to deposit! And I still have a few left over. SHWING!

3) I received an email from a professor in one of my departments (I’m a double major– maybe part of the reason I got this scholarship?) who I’ve never taken who wants to GIVE me money towards my trip to Africa. WHAT? Now people are just GIVING me money? This is absurd and I have never felt this way and I don’t know what I think about it… Actually I know exactly what I think about it. I LOVE IT!!!

But this made me realize: Isn’t money the root of all evil? But is it when you need it for something good? And is it so bad as long as you’re not doing anything bad to get it? Instead of thinking of this as being obsessed with money (which, OK, I totally am… This is America after all) I am going to think of this as me finally getting rewarded for all my hard work. And that’s good… Right? RIGHT?

That being said… I LOVE MONEY. And I especially love EASY MONEY. But is it easy money if you deserve it? Man oh man these are psychological debates I don’t need to start having before I go to bed. I’m already not sleeping well. Maybe all this CASHMONEY will help me sleep tight…

My Boyfriend on my BED OF MONEY... NOT. I don't even know this guy. And I don't have a boyfriend. And if I did have a boyfriend, he would definitely NOT be a Ginger.

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Filed under college, Lazy, life, musings, travel, Uncategorized

22 Reasons to Hate a Hipster

The new “Hipster” Craze makes me angry to a degree that’s intensity is only rivaled by the way I feel when 17 year old girls INSIST Twilight is valuable literature and I just don’t get what Edward and Bella have, and whenever I hear Nickelback on the radio. (These are the two reasons I avoid high schoolers and the radio at all times) These people really think they’re hip. But guess what? They’re not. And so, along with the 34092834 other kajillion people out there who hate Hipsters, I plan to blog about the things they do/say/like/are/wear that makes me want to vom. Yes I am aware that there are not that many people on the planet, but I am also privy to information that all the other intelligent life in the solar system as well as cats hate them too. Even the cats owned by hipsters.

1) The haircuts. Ain’t nothing FASHIONABLE about a FASHION mullet. Talking to you, Kristen Stewart…

2) Wayfarers, and the way they ruined them for the rest of us. I used to wear mine when it WASN’T cool to look like you were time travelling in from the 80s, now y’all wear them all the time. I don’t want to be associated with that, I want to be associated with Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Not Fashion Mullets and Parliaments.

If you see him, RUN.

3) THEY’RE ALL SKINNY. SOOOOO skinny. Even the boys. I don’t like skinny boys, I HATE skinny girls, and I don’t ever think its attractive to look like you’re deprived of essential nutrients. Skinny people always look a little unhappy, and I guess Hipsters are dying to be unhappy all the time. This is America, and if you have enough money for that American Apparel t-shirt that was entirely too expensive and made under the watch of a raging sexist, you most certainly have enough money for a cheesy double beef burrito. But I guess you wouldn’t know, cause Patriotism isn’t hip with the Hipsters.

4) Pardon me, Hipster, but you have stolen my brew of choice… Pabst Blue Ribbon. I drank PBR cause it was CHEAP and more palatable than Milwaukee’s Beast. And I ENJOYED it. Now yall drink it cause some other worthless Hipster told you to, and now PBR sales are skyrocketing. Maybe if Hipsters knew that PBR was the most American drink in America, they’d quit drinking it.

5) Dov Charney of American Apparel. This guy is a creep, and all who buy his clothes are creepers by proxy. Ipso facto, Hipsters are creeps. And by creeps I mean “sexually exploitative perverts with a massive superiority complex” as exhibited by this Business Week article.

6) THIS hoodie, also by American Apparel. I love a good beard, and I love a good Burt-Reynolds-in-Best-Little-Whorehouse-in-Texas style mustache… If it is real and attached to your face. Many of the Boy Hipsters can’t grow facial hair because God won’t let them. God loves men with beards a little extra, and God does in fact love Hipsters a little less. (My dad’s a preacher, he’s got a direct line to the Man.)

7) These Guys. (Thanks, LATF, for being a badass website as well as letting me shamelessly steal this link.)

8) Hipster’s attempts at cool facial hair. Mutton chops are only sexy on Confederate Generals and Melvin “Mutton Chops” McGee. Neither of which are Hipsters, cause they believe in tons and tons of violence as well as being respectful of women. (look… one of the wayfarer wearing ones snuck in here again…How in Sam Hell do I make that go away?)

9) They insist Macs are better than PCs. I know a lot of non-Hipsters do that too, but it just really gets my goat when it’s someone who is thin and wearing a flannel shirt in August in Central Georgia. That is neither logical nor ironic… Fail.

10) Tight pants only look good on David Bowie as the Goblin King in Labyrinth. And Prince, of course.

11) They won’t even admit they’re Hipsters. Just ask The Hipster Olympics.

Remove Yassar Arafat Scarf and Apathy, then become my friend.

12) Androgyny. I’m all about it when it’s David Bowie or the Lead Singer of the Eurythmics (still not entirely convinced Annie Lennox is a girl), but take the glitter out of the affair and I’m not so into it. I want to know who’s who and what’s what and who’s got what. I don’t like it when I see a whole pack of hipster friends and I can’t tell if they’re boys or girls and they’re all making out. But then again, Hipsters LOVE PDA too. Gross.

13) The substitution of the word “DECK” for “COOL.” People that are wayyyy cooler than us have been saying “cool” for a long time, and I don’t want to buck that trend. Plus have you ever fallen off a deck? NOT cool.

14) Mustache tattoos on fingers. Not cute. Grow one, or buy a stick on one, or just color one on your finger if that’s your way of being cheeky and clever. Remember, your grandkids are gonna ask you about that one day, and History is written by the WINNERS… Which probably won’t be wimpy hipsters with mustache tattoos on fingers. Such are the spoils of war.

15) PLAID, PLAID, EVERYWHERE! You’ll get it when you see a whole pack of them together. Frightening.

16) Pitchfork. It’s a breeding ground of musical self-importance and a celebration of all the “deck” things they are into, like polaroids at a concert (cool when you’re not a hipster) and who’s got the deckest album cover for their strange deck music.

17) The obsession with irony. No, as a matter of fact, it is not ironic that the tattoo on your back is the same as the one your grandpa got in the South Pacific with some Asian chick’s name on it and now you’re totally doing it with this Asian Hipster chick who’s name is unrelated and has never been to Asia… As a matter of fact, it’s not ironic because you planned the tattoo, and you probably wasted your money. Your Grandpa never heard the end of it from Grandma, and you never will either. Now THAT’S ironic.

18) Dirty Dirty Dirty. I’ve rarely seen one who looks like it’s bathed within the past 5-7 days, and that’s just the way they want it. That makes their awesome hangover known to all mankind, so they can all bitch and moan about their headaches together while Barista-ing or doing whatever else they can do whilst looking like that and not working hard. I don’t get it.

19) Trust fund babies should be prettier than Hipsters. If I didn’t have to work for my money, I’d take all that time and work on looking good so I can attract people who look good and have more money. The Hipsters use the opposite logic, blow their money on PBR, shitty bands, and pot, and will probably become Homeless like the people they resemble. Hows THAT for some MORE irony?

20) The non-chalance of the whole thing. Caring about others is cool, get over it. That’s why people like nice people like Mother Theresa, and hate people like Hipsters.

21) For how different they all try to be, I really think they all just look the same. Thank God for Hipster Hunters, they really let you know the who’s who and what’s what of the often indistinguishable but always nauseating Hipster physiology.

NO CHANCE she grew that mustache or needs those glasses. And she DEFINITELY doesn't need those bangs.

22) EVERY HIPSTER WEARS GLASSES…. WTF?!?! There is absolutely NO way that a whole entire group of friends somehow–call it fate, destiny, what have you– all ironicall found each other but also just so happened to be visually impaired. Sorry, your IQ’s aren’t high enough and there aren’t enough Asians in America. Something smells fishy about this one, and I’ve seen glasses without prescriptions for sale at Urban Outfitters…

So, there’s my rant on Hipsters. Yeah, I mean, I’m all for doing what you want to do and being who you really are in this world of superficiality and such… But please at least be funny or cute or of some kind of greater worth to the society. Maybe if Hipsters were making changes like the Hippies, or contributing to the art world like the Beatniks, I’d be into it. But really they’re just stealing and perverting “recycling” other generation’s trends and “making them their own” when really it just makes no logical sense, nor does it flatter my body type. Or anyone else’s for that matter. There are reasons the Members Only jacket went away, along with neon spandex and zip-up hoodies.

Because they SUCK. And that’s going to be the same reason Hipsters go away too. How ironic.

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Filed under ...Talking to you..., Beards, humor, life, musings, pop culture, Shameless Prince References, Uncategorized, Wasting my time...

Baby, I STUMBLE for ya…

First day back and I think things are going well. Then I realized that 3 people landed on my site because they searched “Girls with Beards” and/or “Will cutting the sleeves off my Snuggie make me look like more of a badass?” Good to know there are other people on God’s Green Earth who think about the same things as I do. Please know that you are welcome here, and I will try my damndest to make you minimally aware of how hard I am judging you. And to answer what it is you’re seeking– dudes don’t typically want to do it with go for chicks with beards. And cutting the sleeves off your Snuggie will not make you look like a badass. Its called “The Blanket with Sleeves,” not “The Blanket WITHOUT Sleeves.” Because if it didn’t have sleeves… It’d just be a blanket.

Surely y’all have heard of StumbleUpon. In case you’re like our other friends in the Cambodian Fishing Villages or living in the Mars Craters, StumbleUpon is quite possibly one of the most ingenius inventions on the Interwebz. You check little boxes telling it what you’re into, and it just like…FINDS these webpages for you that it thinks you’ll be interested in. So, essentially, you are “Stumbling Upon” them. Clever, if you will. And I will.

Now, as ingenius as StumbleUpon is, it is my biggest FRENEMY. StumbleUpon has introduced me to some really awesome stuff that really turns my friends on (like this SNOWFLAKE MAKER that kids on drugs just can’t resist) and gets me much-needed cool points. But, for all the hilarious cartoons and trivia facts, StumbleUpon has really made it clear to me that I am an absolute nightmare of a human being and my life is in far, far worse condition than I previously thought. You know, like the fact that it gives me links to things like “Magnificent Cat Tummies” and I look at the whole damn thing… and like it.

StumbleUpon introduced me to this... Which Kitty and I plan to ask for for Graduation.

Don’t believe me? I won’t tell you what my checked categories are (trust me… it’s horrifying.Its like they know exactly what you want before you even know you want it.  They actually SUGGESTED to me that I start StumblingUpon cats since apparently I “liked” everything cat-related. Huh.) but here are the first 10 pages that I will StumbleUpon. Prepare to block me from your blogs in 5…4…3…2…1…

1) HOW TO CLEAN YOUR OWL: Complete with PICTURE!

2) COOKING BY NUMBERS: You select the things you have; it makes you a recipe. This could lead to serious obesity and food poisoning based on the things in the pantry in MMH; but I’m balling on a budget so I’m definitely liking this one.

3) LAO TZU QUOTES: I mean… Even StumbleUpon knows I need a little guidance… But she DOESN’T know that I’m a little scared of Asians. HA!

4) SPEEDY PETE?: I’ve never been to this site, but these are some incredibly amazing pictures of  drunk people with cups and such balanced on their drunk as a skunk passed out heads/faces. I mean, I’m already friends with enough drunks, but I definitely want to be friends with the pranksters.

5) INTERESTING CAVES: Self explanatory.

6) WINE GLASS: This is a picture of an ad for a wine glass that fits a whole bottle in the glass… because “Drinking wine from a glass is classier than drinking from a bottle.” Well put, you drunk bitch. Why don’t they sell these on infomercials? I’d totally get one if they were some kind of BOGO.

7) BRIAN TURNWALD: I hate people who aren’t handicapped who park in handicapped spaces. This guy does that. Ipso facto, I hate this guy. HOW DOES STUMBLE KNOW THAT???? Better yet, who is this guy who is so freaking angry he made a whole page out of this? Righteous anger, no doubt… but still a little extreme… Well, right on, sisterbrotherstranger.

Gee...Thanks StumbleUpon... You really shouldn't have.

8) SOME BEARS: Self explanatory. This is a picture of a real bear and a teddy bear, in sepia tones. WTF? Still liking it. (BTW I know that keeps turning into some lame-o smiley dude in Wayfarers… Can’t make it stop auto correcting, so lets just let him shine on.)

9)HEDGEHOG SHAPED CHEESE GRATER: I’ve always wanted a pet hedgehog (they’re illegal in GA… pout.) and I love to grate cheese. StumbleUpon really just… GETS me.

10) AHHH!: Frightening.  I mean, she’s adorable if you know what to expect. But if not; terrifying. I need to tell StumbleUpon that they cannot do this to me unless they want my roommates to StumbleUpon a heart attack victim.

Now that I said I’m only gonna do 10 of these, I can’t seem to stop. That’s why Stumble is my Frenemy to the max. Sometimes I can’t seem to drag myself away, even if my coffee has kicked in or I need to be getting ready for a meeting. Or just doing other important things, like applying for graduate schools or writing love letters to Robert Redford. StumbleUpon makes me think I am actually getting something accomplished because I can post millions of insignificant links on millions of insignificant people’s walls. But I can’t lie. The only way I’ll be able to quit Stumbling like I do is if I stop making awesome grades (DOUBTFUL) or if I find a boyfriend (which will be close to impossible because of my debilitating Stumbling Habit and my love affair for cats which is only further enabled by my MOMster and Stumbling so hard) in the immediate future. Not likely.

And trust me… I do NOT want to be stuck Stumbling across videos of cats and pumpkins when MPM (My Perfect Man) walks in.

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Filed under Best Ideas Ever, Cat Lady, humor, Lazy, life, MMH (My Miserable House), MPM (My Perfect Man), Obsessions, Reasons I Don't Have a Boyfriend, Uncategorized, Wasting my time...

Lucy… You got some ‘splainin to do…

I believe this kid's miz costume conveys *just* how sorry I am.

Well, I guess from the offset I should begin this way: I’m sorry. I’m sorry to the 6 or so people who actually got a kick out of my ramblings. Sorry to my little bloggy-blog which I actually thought would somehow remind me to write in it. Sorry to me, cause I actually convinced myself I would be able to do this without any dedication, provocation, or sobriety. Your little “where did you go-es” and occasional checks back have brought me back into the fold; and please accept me as the prodigal son returned to reap his fortune. Or really just the chick with too much time on her hands and a desire to make a few people laugh because of her unfortunate life.

Onward and upward. I will try to reinstate myself in this space (and I totally understand if you won’t have me back… Shoes don’t stretch, men don’t change, and cheaters always cheat… I’m guilty of being once-bitten twice-shy as well, friends) without any glittering promises of actually doing this daily or of making you lose 5 lbs by eating more. Actually, I quit blogging and GAINED 5 pounds. What in Sam Hell is that all about?

Now, I guess I could just give you a brief run-through of where I’ve been the past 7 months. I’ll harken back to some of these times with stories and a Sarah Palin-esque teary-eyed nostalgia; but in hindsight, I don’t think they’re as entertaining as the other foul and menial things that surround me today. Here we go.

January: Started a blog, cat got declawed, quit blogging, school started. Rampant drinking binges ensued. Roommate got another cat… Still no boyfriend or ability to see through clothing. On the upside, Bad Romance played on the radio about 42 billion times. It may or may not have snowed in Georgia.

February: Still drinking, still had a cat. Threw the “Second Annual Singles Only” Valentines Day Party at my house… Ended the night drinking with my cat. Got elected Student Body Secretary; even though I am highly unqualified for the job. I’m just popular and I look some-what good in a skirt. Or at least better than the competition, but he’s no skirt-chaser (which probably affected his chances at winning in my SUPERCONSERVATIVE College Town) and looks like Squidward from SpongeBob. Then I went to Uganda for two weeks, almost died in a plane crash on the way home. That was cool. And by “cool” I mean “absolutely horrifying because I am completely self-obsessed and I watch a lot of LOST and just didn’t think it was my time to go so I said the F-Word in front of about 20 preachers and rude Europeans and haven’t completely gotten over it.”

March: Nothing much to write home about. Still got a cat, still don’t got a boyfriend. Started looking at Graduate Schools because I’m paranoid about my future. Please note at this phase in my life, Grad School was 15 months away. Oh, and visiting Grad Schools was my Spring Break. The

Speedy Pete, in all his glory.

decrepit alcoholic in me was horrified when I told him we wouldn’t be hitting the Jersey Shore. For the record, his name is “Speedy Pete.”

April: Had a few minor life crises trying to rule the world… But I ended the semester with a 4.0. SHOCKING. Seriously. I don’t “do” good grades; my arguement to my parents has always been that I’m in it for the “experience.” Apparently being delightfully average isn’t going to cut it any more. Guess what? Still no boyfriend. Also won an award on campus for being “Greek Leader of the Year” that was a giant Bobcat cast in bronze that weighed like 20 lbs and resembled more of an Owl. Talk about my student dollars at work…

May: Took a Freshman English class for the Summer Semester, blew some kids minds with my knowledge. Didn’t blow any hard enough to find a boyfriend though… Guess the train won’t stop in CougarTown till August. Also visited 3 Confederate Forts within 3 days; which is like pornography for me. In my time of absense, my formerly impassioned love for the State of Georgia has become something so fierce and uncontainable that I should probably get checked out… I guess Wisdom, Justice, and Moderation is my Boyfriend.

June: I don’t want to talk about it.

July: Celebrated the cat’s 1st birthay… Reason #54025 I don’t have a boyfriend. In fact, Celebrated 1 full year of being totally and completely single. WAAAAH-WAAAAAHHH. Celebrated America’s 324th Birthday with dazzling redneckness. Started back to my summer classes. Rearranged my room at My Miserable House (MMH) and have committed to making a life change again.Seriously. I’ve gotten fat and I’ve got no money. I’ve gotta make some changes; and I’d like to re-start here on the interwebz.

Last time that lasted about 5 days; but I’m being a little less demanding of myself this time around. We already know that my former attempt crashed and burned, so lets hope this one will just do a few touch-n-go landings like my flight out of Entebbe. I stilhow l think I have the ability to be a little funnier. In fact, since going to Africa, I think I’ve gotten even a little more funnier (how you gon’ act, Grammar Nazis?) cause I saw some pretty nutty stuff. Nutty enough that I plan to go back again in December. So, look forward to some scary stories over the next 5 months of the creative/sketchy/self-destructive things I do to come up with $3000 to help some baby orphans.

On a parting note: I apologize again, a million times. I promise, promise, promise I am back. And I will love on you and yours until you can’t stand it and you have me back. And that’s not a threat– that’s a promise. I have a lot of extra time since I *still* don’t have a boyfriend and no longer have a means to fund Speedy Pete’s booze-hounding ways.

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Filed under Cat Lady, college, drinking, humor, life, MMH (My Miserable House), Not Being Skinny, Reasons I Don't Have a Boyfriend

Day #5: TOPicLESS TUESDAY!

So, I was too busy to come up with a topic to actually think about today; but I refuse to not post every day. So, I’ll try and give you a run down of my day. (And I know what you’re thinking, how in Sam Hell is she too busy to come up with a topic when we’ve seen all the random jank she talks about?!?! I know, friends… I’m ashamed too)

10:40 AM: Get woken up to kitty clawing my face; something he does sporadically throughout the night. Silently say a prayer of rejoice/thanksgiving that he will be spayed and declawed tomorrow morning, and decide to let him have his moment. *If you’re wondering why HE is getting spayed, feel free to ask, its a great story.*

11:00 AM: Drink some questionable coffee the parents left sitting out, realize about 30 minutes later that there must be a laxative in said Colombian Roast, decide to skip on the breakfast. Instead, I choose to watch Out Cold. You know its going to be a good day when you start out with Zach Galifinakis (Man of my dreams…)

12:30 PM: Finish the 49320 loads of laundry that have been piling up in my month’s stay at home. Its not like the MOMster would do anything sweet/motherly like do my laundry anyway; so I just suffered until it’s time to hit the dusty trail for My Miserable House. I also may or may not have broken the new washing machine, and we’re just hoping my parents think its their fault. I should be able to make a quick break away, they’ll never know.

12:30-4:00 PM: Organize the disaster zone that is my room/closet, pack my giganto suitcase, 3 duffel bags, giant tote, backpack, and laundry basket, place them in my car… which means clean out the car. In FREEZING weather. No seriously, it’s freezing in Georgia. And this hot mess didn’t have the sense to put on shoes when she loaded the car. Really? I’ll never live to see 30. Or if I do, it will be with frost-bitten appendages. We southerners do not know how to deal with this weather.

4:00 PM- 6:00 PM: Tell the MOMster to get a life, go to Wal-Mart, get eyebrows waxed. Not at Wal-Mart though… That would probably cause some kind of fungus or eye disease. Speaking of eye disease, I learned that if you get water in your eye in Africa, it will give you diarrhea. Nightmares… Anyway, come home with a red face and some new over-priced crappy make up… Fo free.

6:00-7:00 PM: Make my OWN dinner. At my last night at home. I swear they’re itching to get rid of me. Then they’ll cry and whine and bitch about me “never coming home” when I come home all the time. I know parents love their kids and all, but I’ve been gone for 3 years… It’s not like you miss the pitter-patter of my moody and food-consuming, pay-per-view buying, grocery money-wasting, credit card-stealing feet. Please get a life, you’re suffocating mine…

7:00-8:00 PM- Watch NATURE on GPTV (Georgia Public Television, currently known as GPB, or Georgia Public Broadcasting… but I don’t like change) with the kitty while he tries to catch birds on the screen. Shame that he’s going to wake up tomorrow afternoon with no claws and no idea what is going on. It’ll be like Memento, but with a cat.

8:00-Now: Watch Parenthood (excellent movie, especially the kid who runs around with a bucket on his head and bangs the walls… plus I have a thing for Steve Martin… Meow) followed by the Office. Then I fed the cat like 9 treats which apparently is terrible for them because thats like feeding a cat 9 McDonalds Double Cheese– which sounds more like my heaven than hell– and they can’t digest it all. But hey, he’s getting his claws and his mangina taken out, he deserves some treats! Now I’m blogging… Not just out of necessity but because I think everyone needs to know how amazingly worthless my day was.

I’m heading back to the Promised Land tomorrow… REAL adventures will soon begin. Sorry if this post was a big fat let-down; I’m getting more and more readers every day, and I’ll probably have to do some damage control after this crap.  Until then, I’ll leave you with a video or something to make me feel like I’m sharing something? It’s kitty’s favorite.

Peace and Buh-lessings; Peace and Buh-lessings.

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Filed under Cat Lady, humor, life, MMH (My Miserable House), MPM (My Perfect Man), TOPicLESS TUESDAY!, Wasting my time...

Day #4: Beards (YES!)

I mean, not to sound crass or anything, but I’m getting way popular on the interwebs. My mother told me never to brag about my infinite amounts of awesome be humble, BUT, I’ve already had over 60 views before 11 PM… which is way more than the last 3 days! After all these views and all these great comments, I’m feeling good about this, I just hope I don’t run out of funny before you kids run out of interest. Self-doubt engage in 5…4…3…2…1…

Reason #7852 Why I Don’t Have A Boyfriend: My insatiable quest for a man with the perfect BEARD.

To me, you are perfect.

There are many things a girl learns to find attractive in her formative years, and I have absolutely no idea where any of mine came from. Ask any little Susie KindergartenPants who she wants to marry, and if she doesn’t say Miley Cyrus (one of the main things that creep me out) chances are she’ll describe a Brad Pitt/Matt Damon/Ben Affleck-esque form of Man Perfection. And more power to her, those dudes are hot and rich. Two qualities I find very attractive, but just haven’t clawed their way up to my #1. The reason? I have an unhealthy obsession with beards.

Maybe it’s because I watched a lot of Jeramiah Johnson as a child. Maybe its because I’m the spawn of a preacher-man and I spent a lot of time looking at pictures of Moses, Sampson, and other bearded Israelites. Maybe it’s because I was convinced that Karl Marx was the smartest man of all time. Somewhere, somehow, I found beards to be extremely sexy. Like, I’d rather you have a beard than be able to drive a car or kill roaches. It’s LOVE. Pure, unadulterated, bearded love.

I KNOW RIGHT?!?!?!?! Who in their right mind, in 2010, when MANSCAPING is so in, finds BEARDS to be attractive??? Me. I am the person odd enough to think that someone having LARGE AMOUNTS OF COARSE HAIR GROWING OFF OF HIS VISAGE makes someone more attractive. Its disgusting. And I love it. Like GoGurt. You know its wrong, but you just want to squeeze it/rub it on your face anyway (sorry for what THAT just sounded like).

It’s a problem. And you know what? I don’t want to solve it. But there is one major reason this is keeping me from finding a boyfriend: I won’t settle. I’ve tried. The first guy I dated in college had THE. PERFECT. BEARD. My father hated him, but the day he dumped me we broke up my blessed Dad (a beard-sporter himself) said “Well he did have one hell of a beard.” I then dated a skinny hippie with a skinny excuse for a beard… I was happier when he shaved. Dry spell…..wait for it…dry spell… Then a red-head with a pathetic excuse for a beard *CoughCough NECKBEARD CoughCough* and an even more pathetic excuse for dumping me… Dry spell…wait for it…dry spell…. wait for it… Oh, wait, still in it.

There’s something about them. They’re so manly. I hate traditional gender roles. I’m a sociology major, I’m above it… But I do expect my man to be (or at least look like) the Brawny Man. All I want is a badass personality and an even more badass beard. I would even almost consider dating someone thinner than me (giant mistake… talking to you, skinny hippie) again if he could fulfill that promise. Just FYI, I’m going to start accepting any applications from bearded bloggers/bloggers with the ability to grow a beard/ bloggers with bearded sons/ bloggers with sons who have the ability to grow a beard. For real. Shameless, I know, but this way is not working.

Let’s say I find Beardy McPerfect. It would go exactly like this. We’d go on a few dates. I’d look beautiful, giggle, and casually compliment on his beard by date #2 (you’ve got to keep them guessing, I’d be so afraid to run him off in all his bearded perfection) and he’d say, “Oh really? Well, Love, I’m 99.9% sure we’re soul mates and should get married immediately. But as a test, would you agree to marry me at the World Beard and Mustache Championships on May 11th, 2011 in Trondheim Norway?” And I’d say, “Yes, My Perfect-Bearded-Brawny-Man (who may or may not be thinner than me) I will marry you in Trondheim”… then he’d win the championship, we’d live together in a perfect house, listen to Ray LaMontagne (great beard) all the time, watch a lot of Jeramiah Johnson, read a lot of Allen Ginsberg (yeah, Jew Beards!) and then we’d have about 38490238 bearded sons to bless the women of the future-world with beards. That’s the life.

Again, Reason #7852 Why I Don’t Have A Boyfriend: My insatiable quest for a man with the perfect BEARD.

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Filed under ...Talking to you..., Beards, humor, life, lifestyle, MME (My Miserable Exes), MPM (My Perfect Man), Obsessions, Reasons I Don't Have a Boyfriend

Day #3: Hey, Life Alert… It’s time you expand your consumer base!

A little aside: Day #2 had even more readers than Day #1, a number that was for reals closer to 100 than 0! This is both thrilling and unbelievable because my luck is about as irregular as Jamie Lee Curtis before Activia. Keep up the good work, kids!

This winter break, I decided to take a break from my college town and move back to the ‘burbs with my parents for about a month. There are about 8 good things about that decision and about 238329 terrible ones, but that’s another story for another day. One of the good things is that I’ve had a lot (and I mean A LOT) of time to watch TV. And we all know who watches weekday daytime T.V.

  • People who never went to college (and probably didn’t graduate high school) and thus are led to believe they could make millions from their own living room or that going to college in their pajamas is REALLY the best way to do it,
  • Stay-at-home-Moms (housewives, homemakers, whatever the term is) who may have a minute or two of peace to catch The Doctors or something else educational and gross before their monstrous children/husbands return, and
  • Old people.
  • One commercial that is clearly targeted marketing to the 70+ crowd? LIFE ALERT. We’ve all seen Nana struggling on the floor (and probably laughed at it once or twice, whether inside or out, especially if it was pre-2000’s new marketing campaign) with a lackluster “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” Button? Pushed. Help? On  the way. Best present you ever decided to force upon get your elderly parents? Life Alert.

    I have a serious, serious problem with this commercial. I am in my 20s, and I have a FAR greater need for Life Alert than my Nana. This woman is like an 80 year old Chuck Norris; she has fallen and she always gets up. The lady even moves her own furniture. I however, live a lifestyle that puts me and my 3 roommates at a far greater need for Life Alert. Some reasons include (but are not limited to the following): our 100-year-old 2-story house is made of wood with no insulation and has lead-based paint which keeps the windows sealed shut, we are poor and refuse to turn the gas on so we always use space heaters, the house has caught fire before, our entire flooring is original HARDwood which has been known to leave bruises and fractures on the asses/faces of drunk people, we’ve had gas leaks, and we live in a crime-infested college town historic district. It’s a veritable hell/shit hole disguised as a Southern Historic Home. Damned place doesn’t even have a driveway… and every day and night I spend there I am facing certain death.

    Hey, Life Alert, grab your trifocals and read between the lines… YOU COULD MAKE MILLIONS IF YOU’D EXPAND YOUR MICRO-SPECIFIC CONSUMER BASE!!! You could take full advantage of stupid college girls with deep pockets who live in crappy old college houses. In fact, if you expanded your marketing base away from Nana, you could probably catch every other Cat-Lady Hermit (read, me in 40 years) who is likely to fall and be found dead, half-eaten by her cat. You could reach all those people on HOARDERS who literally get stuck in their own trash mires. All those reclusive chess players and mathmeticians they convince brilliant actors to play have near-constant panic/anxiety attacks that would bring in some major money and publicity if they had life alert.

    You seem to forget, dear Life Alert, that hermits, recluses, drunkards, clinically insane persons, and cat ladies come in all shapes, ages, and sizes; and cats don’t have opposable thumbs to dial 911. In fact, they’d probably rather you die so you’d stop dressing them up as Santa and teaching them the dance moves to Bad Romance. I guarantee Life Alert that they’d make millions if they made a commercial with a drunk college kid Life Alerting the paramedics because he’s “busted ass” and he can’t get up. Or if they showed Antoine Fisher Life Alerting after he got beaten by that wet rag. Sure, they can sleep at night just a-waitin’ for the Baby Boomers, but there’s plenty of money to be made elsewhere.

    They claim to save a life every 26 minutes… They could make that every 13 minutes if they took my advice… and probably every 7 between the hours of 12 midnight and 4 AM. But go ahead, stick with your niche market. Just don’t be mad when I say “I told you so” next time my house catches on fire.

    http://www.lifealert.com/index.html

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    Filed under Best Ideas Ever, Cat Lady, college, drinking, humor, Lazy, life, musings