Monday, October 26, 2009
The Three Stages of Monday Enacted by Toys In Photograph Form*
*Photos are blurry and cropped horribly because it's fairly difficult to take and edit pictures of toys whilst one is supposed to be working. It seems such activities are somehow not on my list of job duties and therefore frowned upon.
Much like the six stages of grief, every Monday has stages. Stage One is Utter Forlorn and Abject Sadness. Sometimes looks like a "hangover". May or may not be accompanied by profuse vomiting.
I am cast down
[On this one, it kind of looks like I wrote "WHY, GOP, WHY" which is a good question as well. The G.O.P. has a lot to answer for.]
Stage Two = A Furious and Smoldering Anger. May resemble "the middle finger". WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW.
And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to make me work!
Stage Three is Sweet and Delicious Apathy when you realise there is no escaping your foxhole. Best dealt with a heaping helping of denial and, if you're a lucky bitch that can dupe your doctor into giving you some, Xanaxs (Xanaxes? That looks like the name of an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh.)
Oh Great Xanaxes, let your people go...from work.
If your Monday is particularly dragging, you might make it through Stage Three, wake up with paperclip indents on your face and Post-It Notes stuck in your hair, and move to the ever-elusive but always fun Stage Four - Total Lunacy - wherein you will post photos of unrelated sausages.
Part B to Stage Four: Semi-related Grenades, to be saved for next Monday's anger phase.
You can tell I got tired of writing in MS Paint here at the end where my handwriting becomes illegible. Also I was very nearly caught.
Much like the six stages of grief, every Monday has stages. Stage One is Utter Forlorn and Abject Sadness. Sometimes looks like a "hangover". May or may not be accompanied by profuse vomiting.
[On this one, it kind of looks like I wrote "WHY, GOP, WHY" which is a good question as well. The G.O.P. has a lot to answer for.]
Stage Two = A Furious and Smoldering Anger. May resemble "the middle finger". WHERE IS YOUR GOD NOW.
Stage Three is Sweet and Delicious Apathy when you realise there is no escaping your foxhole. Best dealt with a heaping helping of denial and, if you're a lucky bitch that can dupe your doctor into giving you some, Xanaxs (Xanaxes? That looks like the name of an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh.)
If your Monday is particularly dragging, you might make it through Stage Three, wake up with paperclip indents on your face and Post-It Notes stuck in your hair, and move to the ever-elusive but always fun Stage Four - Total Lunacy - wherein you will post photos of unrelated sausages.
Part B to Stage Four: Semi-related Grenades, to be saved for next Monday's anger phase.
You can tell I got tired of writing in MS Paint here at the end where my handwriting becomes illegible. Also I was very nearly caught.
Labels: bad case of the Mondays, MS Paint is back again, semi-related grenadery, Three Stages of Monday, unrelated hot doggery
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Nancy Flapsticks briefly becomes interesting
In some weird turn of events I cannot explain without going into the stupidity of my paycheck-giver, I received an email at work that appeared to be from a coworker but was actually spam. I was so disappointed when I found out that Nancy Flapsticks (not her real name) didn't actually send me an email with the subject line "TAKE HER FROM ABOVE!" This may or may not surprise you but I am extremely interested in helpful hints on taking women from above. I'm rusty.
I spent several humorous minutes imagining someone trying to take another from above. I pictured them perched nude on a dresser, silently plotting and grinning, ready to fly at their significant other as soon as the unsuspecting fool walked through the bedroom door, landing around their shoulders. And then the person taken from above would start twisting violently and screaming "GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF!" And then the dresser percher would get all offended and pouty, "Look I was just trying to spice up our love life. If you haven't noticed it's gotten a little stale lately. I got an email at work and I thought you would love it." And the other person would start crying, "Our love life is stale? You think I'm fat, don't you." And then Take Her From Above Person would start making up the couch because that's where they would be sleeping for a good week.
However I never, ever, ever want to imagine Nancy Flapsticks taking anyone, in any way, in any position. In my mind she has the genitals of a Ken doll. Smooth, baby. There's nothing there.
Halloween in Ohio
Okay, we need to discuss this. My father lives in Ohio for some bizarre reason I can't explain any more than I can explain why Jessica Biel ever thought Justin Timberlake was a sexual being worthy of love. I mean if they are playing beard to each other she needs to realise this is 2009, furthermore not necessary, and just date me.
Ohio is cool I suppose (but really...if you live there, God I am ever so sorry) but seriously Ohio, you need to stop some nonsense. Apparently several towns in Ohio just arbitrarily decide when they are going to celebrate Halloween. For instance, even though Halloween falls on a Saturday this year, Ohio decided Halloween will be celebrated on October 29th. A Thursday.
Ohio? Who the fuck do you think you are? No. I want to know. Halloween is October 31st. This is the way the rest of the USA celebrates it. But Ohio decides every year to change it and I am serious. Every year they change the day Halloween is celebrated. What the fuck you assholes. This actually really makes me mad. This is no mere hyperbole you read. I just punched my printer over this. What did my printer do to deserve that? None of your business but it didn't agree with me, if you must know.
What kind of sickening hubris is this? Can Idaho just decide that Christmas will now be on December 14th? Can Montana just decide the 4th of July will now be celebrated on August 1st? This sort of thinking will promote anarchy, my friends, anarchy, chaos, and fucking overbearing presumption and overweening (haha ween) supercilious arrogance and I'm just not going to stand for it. I've declared war on Imperial Ohio. So you might want to get out if you live there. It needs but one foe to breed a war, and those who have not swords can still die upon them.
Real men = balls
Why, when someone does something gutsy or brave, is it still described as "ballsy"? "You've got balls son!" Any man can have balls. Balls are not really something I would use to describe something awesome like bravery. [Lest you think I'm a moron, I do know the real reason - it's sexist. Men are brave and have balls so ballsy=brave=awesome and women are weak and have vaginas and are never brave so therefore ladies=pussy=weak blah blah fuck off sexists come into the now etc]
I'm just saying, balls are funny.
In some weird turn of events I cannot explain without going into the stupidity of my paycheck-giver, I received an email at work that appeared to be from a coworker but was actually spam. I was so disappointed when I found out that Nancy Flapsticks (not her real name) didn't actually send me an email with the subject line "TAKE HER FROM ABOVE!" This may or may not surprise you but I am extremely interested in helpful hints on taking women from above. I'm rusty.
I spent several humorous minutes imagining someone trying to take another from above. I pictured them perched nude on a dresser, silently plotting and grinning, ready to fly at their significant other as soon as the unsuspecting fool walked through the bedroom door, landing around their shoulders. And then the person taken from above would start twisting violently and screaming "GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF!" And then the dresser percher would get all offended and pouty, "Look I was just trying to spice up our love life. If you haven't noticed it's gotten a little stale lately. I got an email at work and I thought you would love it." And the other person would start crying, "Our love life is stale? You think I'm fat, don't you." And then Take Her From Above Person would start making up the couch because that's where they would be sleeping for a good week.
However I never, ever, ever want to imagine Nancy Flapsticks taking anyone, in any way, in any position. In my mind she has the genitals of a Ken doll. Smooth, baby. There's nothing there.
Halloween in Ohio
Okay, we need to discuss this. My father lives in Ohio for some bizarre reason I can't explain any more than I can explain why Jessica Biel ever thought Justin Timberlake was a sexual being worthy of love. I mean if they are playing beard to each other she needs to realise this is 2009, furthermore not necessary, and just date me.
Ohio is cool I suppose (but really...if you live there, God I am ever so sorry) but seriously Ohio, you need to stop some nonsense. Apparently several towns in Ohio just arbitrarily decide when they are going to celebrate Halloween. For instance, even though Halloween falls on a Saturday this year, Ohio decided Halloween will be celebrated on October 29th. A Thursday.
Ohio? Who the fuck do you think you are? No. I want to know. Halloween is October 31st. This is the way the rest of the USA celebrates it. But Ohio decides every year to change it and I am serious. Every year they change the day Halloween is celebrated. What the fuck you assholes. This actually really makes me mad. This is no mere hyperbole you read. I just punched my printer over this. What did my printer do to deserve that? None of your business but it didn't agree with me, if you must know.
What kind of sickening hubris is this? Can Idaho just decide that Christmas will now be on December 14th? Can Montana just decide the 4th of July will now be celebrated on August 1st? This sort of thinking will promote anarchy, my friends, anarchy, chaos, and fucking overbearing presumption and overweening (haha ween) supercilious arrogance and I'm just not going to stand for it. I've declared war on Imperial Ohio. So you might want to get out if you live there. It needs but one foe to breed a war, and those who have not swords can still die upon them.
Real men = balls
Why, when someone does something gutsy or brave, is it still described as "ballsy"? "You've got balls son!" Any man can have balls. Balls are not really something I would use to describe something awesome like bravery. [Lest you think I'm a moron, I do know the real reason - it's sexist. Men are brave and have balls so ballsy=brave=awesome and women are weak and have vaginas and are never brave so therefore ladies=pussy=weak blah blah fuck off sexists come into the now etc]
I'm just saying, balls are funny.
Labels: balls rock, Nancy Flapsticks, Ohio needs a comeuppance, taking women from a high perch
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I bought this face powder because it looks like:
Yeah, a boob. But it's actually a nice face powder as well, so bonus points to me. I win yet again at the game of life. Boob-resembling face powders make me spend my dollars.
Other things that make me open my wallet? Xbox games, fine tequilas, movies with Jessica Biel in them which I invariably have to fast forward to the good parts (Powder Blue, I'm staring expressly at you), and assorted other things I best not mention in polite company.
Other things that make me open my wallet? Xbox games, fine tequilas, movies with Jessica Biel in them which I invariably have to fast forward to the good parts (Powder Blue, I'm staring expressly at you), and assorted other things I best not mention in polite company.
Labels: bewbs are cool, breasts-I like them, Jessica Biel has an extraordinary body and is way too good for Timberlake, teenage boy syndrome
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