Sorry, I have been pretty absent as of late. I'm taking some night and online classes. So, when I'm not studying or working I am sleeping, sleeping or taking drugs to help me sleep.
Can you guys please invent one of those beds that teaches you shit in your dreams? Either that or we need to attach (in very tiny letters) the word 'cocaine' to the marijuana legalization bill so that I can do cocaine and stay awake for 72 hours straight.
Side note: I'm not actually using a GI Bill to go back to school. (This is why you should never take memes seriously kids. They are full of lies. If your political ideology is based off of a meme, we are all fucked...oh wait...I just made myself sad.) I just thought this meme properly portrayed my 32 year old ass in a high school desk learning about environmental biology.
Anyways, I'm going back to sleep now or studying or working...does it really matter? Ya'll let me know how that SmartBed/cocaine thing goes. I want to see progress people!
A while ago, I read a book entitled Mistakes Were Made (But Not by Me) and it reminded me of an interesting and sadly, true story of fear, questionable politics and white-trashery.
Several years ago I visited the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. and per usual, for D.C., the traffic was terrible, couldn't find parking and arrived at the zoo way later than originally intended. Later in the day, around dusk, the zoo was starting to close, many of the animals were being led into enclosures or were seeking night time refuge of their own volition.
During this time, I was at one of the outside monkey exhibits when I noticed a middle aged man dressed in fatigues, t-shirt, trucker hat and a huge set of binoculars. This man was joined by his 12 year old son, wearing similar attire to that of his father. For the above mentioned reasons, no monkeys were to be found thru the brush of their enclosure. The young boy was thoroughly disappointed until his father enlightened him to the fact that this monkey absence was simply due to Obama. According to this gentleman, Obama took away many of the zoo animals for federal funding deficits and sold them to China, probably on the black market, for profit. The son ponders this and then suddenly, "Look dad! I can see one!" At this joyous monkey sighting, the father quickly interjects, "Nah, that's just an animatron. Obama doesn't want you to see real animals. He keeps them all in his personal zoo paid for by the hard working tax payers. Steals our money and our monkeys, son."
Just like dusk at the national zoo, we are now facing the twilight hours of Obama's presidency. How will we remember him? How will we CHOOSE to remember him? Only history will tell but we must be open to accept that. It's difficult to admit that you were wrong or held false beliefs. You might think that people will never trust or respect you again for admitting your faults but the reality is, we don't trust or respect you because you believe that Obama is secretly hording monkeys somewhere in the White House for personal gain. I truly respect the person who can stand up and say, "Oops!". But maybe I am the one who is in the wrong? Maybe Obama was always, secretly behind the "animatrons" at Chuck E. Cheeses...he didn't want the kids to have REAL banjo playing bears at their hard earned pizza parties.
The myth of the vampire is fascinating to me because in modern day culture this stoic fiend is seen as some sort of benevolent god type figure. He has the power to destroy but chooses to sit idle while wrestling with his own demons, humanity or lack thereof. He falls in love, he denounces his true nature and would rather die than take the life of an innocent in order to sustain his already long life.
I take issue with this narrative because this is a figure who has lived for centuries and it would be nearly impossible for him to remain pure or even have feelings left, at all. Put aside the blood lust, the night stalking, transmogrification and lack of reflection and we find a human; a human being who can't die but is forced to roam the earth for eternity with no one who can understand him on any level. Centuries of intelligence are at his fingertips but often that sagacity is unchecked and lonely.
Now imagine an old man. The senior citizen who yells at kids, thru his denture filled mouth, to get off his lawn, Someone who is somewhat of a recluse. The news angers him, music angers him and most of all people anger him. Of course, we are all familiar with the "sweet little old lady" type figure but remember this is the very same "sweet little old lady" who probably uses the 'N' word and has no problem telling you the cold hard truth to your face but she knits and bakes cookies so I guess that makes up for the racism and unsolicited advice, right? Take a look at your own life, for instance. At age 8 you couldn't keep from crying as your only pet goldfish surfed his last wave to the big toilet in the sky. Now, at age 38, you can barely muster a tear at a grandparents' funeral. Are you evil? Or have you just lived long enough to realize that the tears don't matter? The flood of salty water flowing so freely from your eyes can't stop death. It is inevitable. The cycle continues. The only difference is that now you see the spiral completely. A cold, black, unblinking, bird's eye view of life.
It stands to reason that anyone, left to their own devices for centuries, would end up (by our modern, human, standards) evil. How can you watch the same mistakes being made over and over again throughout time and country and not become jaded, not view humanity as cattle? What would any of it matter to you? Oh sure, you've tried to warn mankind of their doom but that was 200 years ago, and did anyone listen to you? No, they threw stones at you and called you monster. But who is the real monster? Perhaps, it is the ones who have no memory. Who won't live long enough to remember. Sure, they don't suck blood but how many have they killed and for what reasons? Stalin, Hitler, Mao Zedong, Trump, what does it matter? They will never see the error of their ways because they don't know that an error was ever made. But you, you everlasting demon, you remember, don't you? You remember the revolutions, the fear, the hate and in a few years or centuries (perhaps? hopefully?) you will see it all again, as if, for the first time. No remorse from those who perpetrated these events because they have no memory of their ill deeds. Those were 'others' from another time, or another place. I," I "would never uphold such values as hatred, fear mongering and bigotry! However, you, oh tireless Nosferatu, know my lies. You know the outcome, don't you? Humanity hides it's ugly deeds under the veil of religion or freedom all while you hide your blood lust under cover of darkness. Are we so different? You and I? I'm not so sure anymore. The lines have become blurred.
But, there is a difference, isn't there? I am human. I lie but I also believe my lies. You are legend. You lie but you are smart enough, evil enough, not to believe your own lies. You know exactly what you are and yet are powerless to change. I don't know what I am but I am powerFUL to change...and yet, I don't choose to change. Now, I ask you again, who is the true monster here?
Some things in life go without saying. Imagine, if you will, a few slogans. "Public Schools: Now with Less Pedophiles!", "Hospitals: Got Drugs?" "Alabama: 30% Less Racism than 1960's Alabama!", "Milk: Made from Cows" or "Politics: Now with Transparency and Honesty". Disclaimers can be very disconcerting. Why are these updates needed in the first place? Did my public school employ sex-offenders? Can I get drugs from hospitals? You mean politics haven't always been trustworthy? Of course, these slogans are facetious but the photos that you are about to see are highly disturbing.
My husband and I purchased this bottle of Israeli anise flavored liquor. Seemingly harmless...right? Well, once we got the bottle home, we started to read the back label of this mysterious middle eastern beverage. Much to our surprise, we discovered that this alcohol is "NOW METHANOL FREE".
The CDC's description of methanol is as follows: Methanol is a toxic alcohol that is used industrially as a solvent, pesticide and alternative fuel source.
Ummm, am I gonna go blind? Did this apertif previously contain methanol? Can I put this liquid in the gas tank of my car? Can I use it to clean tar off the road? Can I put it in a spray bottle and kill things with it....like bugs....or humans....but probably just bugs...probably. I feel like, if you are a distiller, you shouldn't have to remind your customers that your product does not contain a PESTICIDE or INDUSTRIAL SOLVENT. But, that's just me. What do I know?
If you were wondering, we did drink this stuff and so far no blindness, dementia or death has occurred. More testing is necessary. It's 5 o'clock somewhere.
Last year for Halloween, my costume was Ace Ventura Pet Detective. So naturally, when I found out that the Miami Dolphin cheerleaders were headed to my area's local high school football game for morale, I instantly knew that this was a photo-op for Ace.
One day my commitment to comedy will either severely injure me or get me arrested...probably both. My friend stood on the sidelines egging me on to run onto the field during the girls' cheer routine and score a classic, fake, Ace Ventura-style touch down. The only reason I didn't do this was due to the fact that I work at the school district. It actually caused my body real, physical pain to stand by the in-zone and act like a pseudo-adult, dressed in drag and wearing a tutu.
I don't know why I'm like this but I just really hate stupid rules. Every morning I refuse to use the cross walk to get to work and every morning I get yelled at by the Nazi crosswalk monitor. "You need to be an example for the kids!" And I'm like, "I'm being a GREAT example for the kids! I'm teaching them to think for themselves and to always question THE MAN!" The jury is still out on who "The Man" is but I'm pretty sure he's part of the PC movement/sugar is bad for you/the sun is bad for you/everything is cancer movements. Ugh, I really hate that guy. I think he's also the one who put 'parental guidelines' on video games. He ruined my childhood because my mom wouldn't let me buy Mortal Combat for the Super Nintendo. But, I digress.
Following a rule that makes sense doesn't bother me at all; it's really just the small insignificant ones that make me go crazy! What stupid rules bother you? How do you stick it to 'The Man'?
People deal with stress in different ways. Some over-eat, some under-eat or bite their fingernails. Others get ulcers, a rash or pull their own hair out. I can't say that I have never suffered from any of the aforementioned afflictions but right now my biggest stress reducer is rage shopping.
In order to rage shop, first, work yourself into a rage over work, family, friends or the obscene cost of nail polish nowadays (I'm looking right at you Butter London) then blindly log onto Amazon.com and purchase bullshit until the stress is alleviated. A few items that have helped to relieve my stress have been a giant inflatable pool unicorn, earrings shaped like lips and every movie Chris Hemsworth has ever starred in, no matter how shitty that movie was. Typically, the more asinine the object, the greater powers of healing it holds over your unchecked rage/stress. Turning on really loud heavy metal music while online shopping also helps to 'break' the rage. Much like a high fever a good rage needs to be broken with high intensity rock music and the bleeding of your bank account into the pockets of whoever works for Amazon.
Beware, do NOT buy things that you actually need. For some reason that will only make you angrier and more stressed out. I can't tell you the science behind this but I do know that it exists.
How do you deal with stress? Seriously, I need to know. I just purchased a mug that says, 'Adios Bitchachos'. I can't go to bankruptcy court and explain to the judge that, 'Your Honor, you see, I was in a deep rage and I NEEEDED this mug that said Adios Bitchachos....for therapeutic reasons....Your Honor." See, I can already tell, that's not gonna go well...and it's stressing me out.
Product Review: 4-month-old Vitamix $449 Vs. 15-year-old Sunbeam blender $25
The Vitamix is a lumbering machine built for brute force with high-end torque.
The Sunbeam is from Wal-Mart and makes no promises.
Personal Testimony: My Vitamix has made approximately 4 smoothies and 2 salsa batches. Today this mighty apparatus was brought to its knees by a hummus recipe. I swear to God those chick peas took one look at my modern, counter-top, marvel and said, "FUCK YOU TECHNOLOGY". These gangsta garbanzo beans were also wearing Ray Bans and smoking. Which really should have tipped me off to their malevolence.
Personal Testimony: My Wal-Mart Sunbeam blender lasted me thru college right up until this year. It wasn't broken, mind you, I just wanted to level up to the Vitamix like an actual adult. This old blender wasn't fancy or pretty but dammit if it didn't do it's job. Just like a hipster juice bar in SoHo, this blender might take all day to make one smoothie, in small batches, while being terribly annoyed about having to do work, but it WILL get the job done.
In Conclusion: I wish I had appreciated you more Sunbeam. I should have told you how much I appreciated you everyday. Instead, I threw you to the curb. I placed you in a yard sale with a tag that said, "50 cents". Why was I so cold to you? You were the glue in this family. You were the steady rock. You were always there for us, blending your little heart out.
Tonight, before you go to bed talk with your appliances, tell them you appreciate them and that you will care for them in their old age and not cast them aside for a newer, sleeker model. It might be the last chance you get.
