There has been a lot of talk about the issue of body image, especially with women. There’s also been a lot of Barbie trashing, an easy target what with the doll’s obvious impossible proportions which are totally unlike the impossible proportions of many of our models and actresses, and never, ever shown as ideal in the media. But Barbie is a doll meant for children, so parents especially have been griping about this since Barbies were first created. (The idea of the doll came from an “adult toy” for bachelor parties. I can’t understand their complaints at all.) So anyway, one would think they’d be happy when finally, toy companies started making dolls that approach a more natural likeness to a real human body.
You’d be wrong of course! One of the first dolls to get media attention back in 2014 was the Lammily doll, created by Nicolai Lamm, a guy so conceited he named the doll after a combination of his name and family! Totally unlike what Barbie’s creator did, what with naming Barbie and Ken after her children. It had to be tough being her kids. Especially when your mom romantically linked you. But never mind that, back to the unfortunately named Lammily, which sounds like an ointment for sheep. In spite of her name, this is an groundbreaking doll. You see, Lamm decided it’d be interesting to see what Barbie would look like if you made her proportions more like an average of the proportions of a real 19-year-old woman. Note I said an “average” of the statistical measurements of a woman of this age. Meaning some are bigger, some are smaller, yadda yadda. But then he confused it a little by saying “Average is beautiful” as part of the campaign. And you know what Americans think about average.
No one is average! We should all strive for perfection that we can never attain, not settle for realistic dreams! How dare we suggest a girl be content with being “average”. Not even a mathematical average of human body types. But there were enough people who wanted a doll that didn’t make them or their kids feel like fatties wearing size, omg, 12 (The beginning size for plus-size models. I wish I was kidding here.) So in one day, his kickstarter campaign far surpassed what was needed to start the project. When Lammily arrived, the doll the media hyped to no end, calling her the alternative to Barbie, or even better, “fat” Barbie, there were a lot of mixed reactions. Some people were happy. But most were annoyed – on either side of the political spectrum.
Some were disappointed that this doll, started by one guy and a handful of dollars and helpers, did not come up with a huge range of body types and ethnicities with his pilot project. Because yeah, that’s what all small companies are capable of doing. He also made her, omg, white, but at least he made her brunette, and not wearing pink! Also no make-up! A plus, right? Nope. Now the ones who wanted a “family friendly modest doll” said she was “plain” and her clothes were boring and what kid (or parent) would want to play with that? Also, not every girl looked exactly like the Lammily doll. Which would mean – not every girl is average? Just like not every girl has crazy proportions? (There are some women who are naturally long legged, tall, skinny and perfect looking. It’s called the genetic lottery.) And then were the people, many of them women, who said this doll was “fat”. A doll statistically made by mathematical averages of a real female.
Even worse, he came up with a package of stickers with everything from cellulite to acne to various wounds (broken leg, scars, bruises – is Lammily in a bad relationship?) to help kids identify with the crap that puberty throws their way by sticking them on their dolls. Personally, I think I would have loved this as a kid. In fact, I might have to still order these stickers, if only to enjoy slapping them on Barbie and the Disney Princesses myself. Because it just makes the world feel a little more fair, that’s why.
So basically, Barbie is bad because she has too much makeup and no pimples, is too sexualized, and has a body that is not natural. And Lammily is bad because she has no makeup and has pimples, is not sexualized, and has a body that at least approaches natural. And then there were the people who, inexplicably, said Barbie is great and they were never, ever influenced to think they had to have a body like her. These are some of the same people who said Lammily was fat. Are you sensing a bit of disconnect here? Cause I sure am. Sorry, Lamm, it’s damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
What’s most ironic is that when you hear or see actual stories of how kids play with these dolls (not the ones in advertising, but actual stories) the kids really don’t care that much. UNLESS the parent makes it a big deal. For instance, one youtube video, labeled “Kids react to ‘Fat’ Barbie”, shows a woman purposely sticking Lammily marks on the doll before showing it to her small child along with a Barbie in a fancy dress. Guess which one the kid picked? Yeah, she chose the fancy one, and I’m sure she was not at all influenced by mom’s body language or purposeful attempts to make the Lammily doll more unattractive. I think this is one insecure lady. God forbid she gain weight herself one day.
So in response to the very, very horrific examples of human-kind seen in the comment sections of many articles and reviews on these dolls, I bought a Lammily. Because that’s the kind of research I will do for my fans, and not because I like buying dolls anyway. I bought her an extra set of clothes to experiment with as well, since she doesn’t fit in any of Barbie’s “no ribs” fashions. Thing Two announced that Lammily (Who has been renamed “Meg” by the Things. But not, as Thing Two vehemently insists, “Megyn.”) looks like me. I think that’s a compliment. I’ll take it as one, because Lammily has some nice muscular legs (which mine are not any longer) and a young, pretty face.
I have to admit, when I first saw this doll I thought she looked strange. She was thicker, without much of a waist (the hips probably could have been a little more hippy – girls do actually have hips) an actual butt, and (gasp) thighs. And then I realized with startling clarity that I had looked at myself for years, even back when I was a young, very thin woman, as someone with enormous thighs. So much so that I did not, and still do not, wear shorter dresses or skirts. To realize that this was normal was amazing, and somehow this doll showed it better than anything else I had experienced, possibly because I could physically hold this thing in my hand and compare it with other dolls. The Things were amazed as well. Forgive the nudie pics but it is the best way to see the comparison between body types. For actual doll porn, please see the rest of the Internet.
“Good grief, her legs are like pencils, Mom!” Thing One said, looking at Meg and then Barbie. And this is a kid who is thin, but with legs that can actually support her. Thing One immediately made Meg one of her super flexible yoga Barbie’s younger sister. Because why not? Both can live together, as they do in the real world. They are still toys, and not just political agendas. It might be nice to let the kids decide what they want and don’t want. And even it is only the parents who really like Lammily, and not kids, that’s okay – cause guess who has the money to buy the dolls? The parents. But parents can do best by their kids by just letting the dolls go, and seeing what happens – without preconceived notions. It’s an opportunity to talk with your kids about what they think, and why. And it’s a chance to play again. Which more adults should do – in my humble opinion.
P.S. No I haven’t been blind to Mattel hopping on the body image bandwagon with a brand new line of fashionista Barbies – a tall, a petite, and – oh oh – a curvy. More on them in part two.
So yesterday we had the Iowa Caucus, which is a big deal because for the first time in almost four years, people care about Iowa again. I’m still not sure why. I’ve looked up the definition of “caucus”, which sounds a lot like a word for poop, and found this:
(noun): a meeting of the members of a legislative body who are members of a particular political party, to select candidates or decide policy.
The only difference between this and a primary, in which we go vote for our favorite (or least hated) candidate in our party of choice (or last resort), is that there’s a lot of people partying at the caucus, at least until they find out the results. Then stuff like this happens:
That’s right! Trumpy came in second by a wide margain. Yay!? Uh, so who came in first? Teddy Cruz. I forgot who he was for a moment, until I saw his face. Oh yeah.
Marco (Polo) Rubio of these boots are made for walkin’ fame, came in a close third to Trumpy. So, according to the Guardian, we could have two “Cuban Americans” fighting over the Republican nomination. I giggled a little at that. Because they are totes Cuban. Must be why they are so insistent on keeping out immigrants. Goodness knows we never get Cuban ones, just ask Florida.
Jeb finished in a dismal sixth place after a libertarian of all things, and brain donor Ben Carson. Not a good sign. Still, I hope he hangs on because I really like his ad campaign. It’s hilariously awful. Huckabee officially bowed out of the campaign, which I thought he’d done months ago, leaving only like 30 Republicans in the race. I think.
As far as the Democrats go, it’s officially still too close to call, which means Hillary is like, oh wow thank goodness I won as evidenced by CNN supporting my campaign! Her numbers were higher than Sanders – by .03 percentage points. Meanwhile Sanders had his own victory speech because he nearly beat her, in spite of purposely ticking off Wall Street and corporations (or because of?), and in spite of both the media and the Democratic party thinking his ramshackle campaign could never win. Sometimes, guys, it helps if you actually cast a vote. I know, it sounds stupid, but sometimes it does. At the very least, you can cancel out someone’s vote. So just do it.
Now these wins don’t necessarily mean that Clinton and Cruz are going to be our candidates. There are actually states besides Iowa. But it does give you an idea. Sanders is still in the race, and Trump Dump’s incredible charm did not let him win this one. He even managed to spit out that he was “honored to be in second place” and that he “congratulated Cruz”. If I were Cruz, I’d hire a few bodyguards.
So one state down, only 49 to go! Isn’t this exciting? I’m just so excited I think I could barf. Maybe the definition of caucus should be the one first proposed by Lewis Carroll in that book I kind of like:
“What is a Caucus-race?” said Alice; not that she much wanted to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.
“Why,” said the Dodo, “the best way to explain it is to do it.” (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)
First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle (“the exact shape doesn’t matter,” it said), and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there.
There was no “One, two, three, and away!” but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out “The race is over!” and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, “But who has won?”
-“Alice in Wonderland” by Lewis Carroll
Your guess is as good as mine.
It’s Monday, ya’ll, which means another full week OF DREAD. I like to be prepared, so I started my dreading early – Sunday night – when my anxiety reached top notch and I had to decide how to calm it down. Oh, sure, there are lots of ways, but you have to be able to GET to those ways in order for it to work. For instance:
Music can be calming. But once you reach Maximum Squirrel Overload, you are kind of past that. No kind of music, saying you were calm enough to find a music player, is going to make you feel better. There are a few types of music. Sad music: bad idea cause you are already anxious and probably depressed about being anxious and sad songs won’t help. Happy music: bad idea too because what business do people have being happy when you are freaked out? Then there’s rap music most of which I think is best classified as Angry music because there is much talk of popping caps in posteriors. Popping a cap might help with anxiety, but the jail time afterward would not, so don’t try it. Also, what are your chances of being able to find the gun?
I love when people say to work out your anxiety or depression with exercise. Look, people, I have no idea where any of my sweatpants are, and if I did, they would be dirty. Then I would have to wash them. And dry them. And put them on. That’s way too much work when your mind is going 1,000 miles an hour. You are already getting a mental workout, and trying to add physical to it can be too much. I guess the best way to describe it would be to expect someone to solve 500 quadratic equations, cure Cancer, and write a symphony, then tell them they had to do this all on the treadmill or elliptical. Now yes, if you manage to get to a gym before you reach Squirrel Overload, you have a chance of physically beating that anxiety back, but if it comes on suddenly, it’s just way too late.
Hot, soothing beverage!
This is usually my best bet, except this time I could not make the cocoa because even though I had cocoa packets, I did not have milk. Well, I had milk, two half gallons, but they had both expired. Saying I was able to force myself to pour the milk (which might come up in chunks which milk should never do) down the drain without barfing, I couldn’t because there were already dishes in the sink. So first I would have to put the dishes in the dishwasher. Except the dishwasher is full so then you have to put the dishes up except that they didn’t all come clean, so they have to go back in the sink. No one wants milk curds on top of that. So forget it. Finally I drove to McDonald’s for some, but they “broke” the machine. I would break it too if I worked there, but still. I had to drive yet another place before I finally got my cocoa. Then I remembered I hadn’t taken some of my pills, so I swallowed them with cocoa only to swallow them wrong and get heartburn. Once I had finished taking care of the heartburn, I managed to go to bed. That, my friends, is way too darn much work.
The last thing I feel when under Squirrel Overload is funny although I probably act rather amusing and or terrifying (it’s such a fine line) when under the influence. This morning I was not as sparkified, just dreadish, and telling myself that I just had to go to work for a little while even though I wanted to stay home. So I drove my Things to school and somehow the conversation diverted to dead dogs because – are you really surprised with us? Anyway, we discussed Where the Red Fern Grows which is a classic children’s book because it involves two dead dogs AND a dead child (for more on the dead dog topic see my post on dead dogs in literature. It’s a real romp.) And the Things, who were both forced to read this book, reminded me that the bully in the book was killed and I was like oh when he was mauled to death and they said no, an ax fell on him. Which is such a great image there. And I was like, dang, that author had some sort of personal vendetta against dogs and boys named Billy. And Thing Two said, “Mom, it was just an AXident.” Get it? Well, we did, and we laughed, because we have problems. But not as many as the author of Where the Red Fern Grows.
So the dread is still there, but at least I made it to work. And when I think of that horrible pun about an ax falling on a kid, I smile. I guess when you are on Squirrel Overload, it helps to have a couple of Things handy. I’m willing to rent them out.
Printer Troubleshooting Guide
On your computer, hit the print button on the document you want to print*
Problem: 50 page print job sent to the black and white printer, when you clearly sent it to the enormous, overly complicated color printer downstairs.
Check your manual. Go to section titled “Cancelling a print job”. Duh.
Cancelling a Print Job
- Hit “cancel button”
- Hit every button
- Yell at printer to stop
- Frantically jump up and down while yelling at printer to stop
- Smack printer
- Unplug printer and start over
- Printer will now say “Paper Jam”
Check your manual. Go to section titled “Removing a paper jam”. Double duh.
Removing a Paper Jam
- Read instructions on printer to open one of the printer doors
- Try to open the indicated door
- Well, pull harder on the door
- Yell at door to open
- Threaten printer with bodily harm
- Smack printer
- Find easy-to-use button and pop open the door. Remove paper.
- No paper? Just shut the door and maybe the printer will forget that one.
- Printer will now say “Paper Jam” and indicate another door.
- Repeat steps 2-6
- Pull out toner making sure to get ink on your new sweater
- Remove paper (or just stare at the empty roll) and replace toner.
- Printer will now say load paper
- There is paper in the drawer? Put some more in anyway.
- Hit print button on computer again, clearly indicating color printer
- Black and white printer will now say “Paper Jam” and indicate paper drawer
Check your manual. Go to section on Devices and Printers. You are like, so dense.
Printing to the right printer
- Problem? Printer is printing to a color printer that no longer exists
- It is just being helpful by sending it to the black and white one that does exist
- Find new color printer under Devices and Printers tab (Try reading the section in “English” not “Japanese” this time. Yes there IS a difference.)
- The Devices and Printers tab is on your start menu on your computer
- Yes it is
- Look for missing printer on this tab.
- Keep looking.
- Inform currently listed color printer that it no longer exists and should then disappear
- Call I.T. Try not to sound so pathetic.
- They have gotten the right printer installed again? Great! Hit print button on your computer and print your document
- Go to color printer.
- Printer will read “Printer Asleep”
- Wake it up. By. any. means. necessary.
- Seek new employment
See? Easy! Be careful with that hammer!
*If this doesn’t work, see section You’re Just Screwed.
Wow, for someone who purposely tries to avoid news as much as possible, I sure get a lot of it. Especially political news, which is always intelligent and thoughtful and I can’t even finish this. It’s not that the reporting itself is bad – unless you are talking about Fox, of course. It’s that the stuff they report is so incredibly stupid. I think I can safely call this the most idiotic election in the history of America, and keep in mind I am including the 2008 election featuring Sarah “Cocker Spaniel” Palin and the 2000 election featuring all the pregnant chads.
For one thing, up until now we’ve had candidates in the Republican party that at least seemed to have brain power. I may not have agreed with McCain, but he wasn’t a whackjob – at least not until they stuck him with Palin as a running mate and his strategy reverted to “Screw it.” But now? The most reasonable one (when he actually talks about issues) seems to me seems to be – and it pains me to say this – Jeb Bush. President Jeb. Yet he’s sinking in the polls faster than his money can save him. And Trump is winning with the power of hate mixed with total holy batcrap insanity.
As far as the Democrats go – you’ve only got two choices, in spite of what poor O’Malley would like you to think. (Can someone just promise him a cabinet seat already so he can go home?) Bernie or Hillary. Democrats seem under the impression that people will vote for Hillary because she has lots of money behind her, and she’s married to Bill who, in spite of his inability to keep his pants zipped, didn’t do so bad as president. The only problem with this is that almost everyone else hates her, or her husband, or both of them, or possibly the entire family including Socks the cat. (Is Socks still alive? I’m guessing no. And, yeah, I’m more interested in the cat now.)
So that just leaves Bernie Sanders (not related to the colonel) because unlike most other Democrats, he doesn’t try to get along with Republicans. He just says what he wants, which you might as well when the opposing party communicates like a two-year-old “No, no, no!”. Will corporations like Bernie? “No,” he says, “and Wal Street will like me even less!” When they ask him about terrorism, or immigration, or terrorist immigration, he often goes back to the these stupid, totally unrelated issues like Americans having a place to eat, sleep, and work. This is what most people would call campaign suicide. Except that you have to remember who the guy is running against.
I have to remember who he’s running against, because sometimes I forget with so many candidates that keep clinging to the podium for dear life. Here are a few tidbits from Facebook that reminded me:
Donald Trump: Republican Presidential Candidate Leads GOP Primary With 13-Point Lead, Poll Says
This is the guy who gets his pointers (like gold stars for all the Muslims!) from Hilter and Ann Coulter (otherwise known as Mrs. Satan). Who gets unnerved when a woman goes potty. Who wants to deport anyone who doesn’t have a dead gerbil for hair or somewhat white skin. Who resembles an Oompa Loompa. Who – if elected – will probably put a giant T on the White House right before half the world bombs us in self-defense.
In case you were wondering if I was exaggerating how awful he and his foreign policy ideas are, here’s another one that just popped up today:
Donald Trump: British Lawmakers Debate Banning Republican Presidential Candidate From UK
-yeah that would be our biggest ally not even wanting him in their country. He wants to ban all Muslims. They just want to ban HIM. No, they haven’t actually barred him (yet?), but the fact that they talked about it says something about us. I think they still remember when we sent Romney over there last election and they aren’t taking chances.
Ted Cruz: GOP Candidate Defends His Presidential Eligibility to Donald Trump During Debate
Unlike Obama, who was born in the US despite many reports made up by Fox to the contrary, Cruz was born in Canada. (Thanks, Canadians!) His mom is American, though, so he was sort of naturalized, depending on how you look at it. The Washington Post actually agrees with Trump, saying that Ted can’t legally run, while some Americans just think he shouldn’t run because he has idiotic ideas and looks like Droopy Dog (this would be me). Other Americans think it is a nonissue because Canada is part of the United States. Ah, Teddy, you might ask Obama for advice on this one. Last I heard he had plastered his birth certificate on every door and window of the White House. Good luck.
Carly Fiorina: Candidate Discusses Hillary Clinton’s Marriage and Email Server Probe in Early Debate
Cause there is nothing like a good political “cat-fight” is there? No, Alice, this is just a political candidate who happens to be a woman saying that “Unlike some women in this campaign, I actually love spending time with my husband.” Ooooh, snap, Hillary! Is this going to be like the “Mommy War Cake Debate” we had with Hillary Clinton and one of the Bush wives (was it Laura? Barbara? I forget). I think Mrs. Bush had a special recipe from great-great- grandma prepared by servants, while Hillary chose the French manufacturer Nestle Tollhouse. In the end, they both just gorged on cake and watched Lifetime together. I might have gotten my facts mixed up, but it sounds good to me. And seriously, Carly, wait a few years. You won’t want to spend time with your husband either.
Rick Santorum: Republican Candidate Tells Viewers to Google His Name During Early GOP Debate
No, really, he did! He asked people to compare his record to Hillary Clinton’s, because everyone knows Google is where you find all your accurate answers! You know, except junior high English teachers who recommend so-called “scholarly” sources. But here’s the fun thing – since Ricky compared gay people to something not so nice, when you Google his name, you come up with something – not so nice. The definition for the word “Santorum” is now something not to be uttered in polite company, as CNN reports. That’s right – the definition is “Trump Dump”. It’s not pretty. Santorum has been trying to change this since 2003, but the Internet has hated him for that long. Nice play there, Ricky!
Republican candidates discuss Marco Rubio’s boots, recommend pant suit to complete look.
Okay so I made up that headline. I didn’t make up the fact that yes, most of the Republican candidates have been bullying Marco* about his girly boots. Anderson Cooper reports on it here on a segment called “The Ridiculist” – clearly Anderson does not understand real news. This was on the 8th, so a little while ago, but directly relates (I don’t know how many times I can say “seriously it does”) to the next real headline.
Jeb Bush: GOP Presidential Candidate’s Campaign Releases Ad Calling Donald Trump a ‘Jerk’
Yup. He did. In fact, it starts out the video!
First you see someone Googling – here we go again – Donald Trump is a jerk. Haha! Then he calls him a jerk. Then you have Trump acting like he’s having a seizure. Then there’s Jeb hugging disabled people because Trump was apparently insulting the disabled. Look, he insults EVERYBODY, including himself. Stay tuned for the next ad when he calls Rubio a “Poopyhead”. Oh wait, he already released an ad earlier with Rubio dancing in cowboy boots to Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots are Made for Walking”. No – I’m serious. Again.
As Thing One says, it’s clear this campaign is purely for entertainment until the real election pops up. I agree.
“Bang, bang, on the door baby
I can’t hear you!”
– “Love Shack” by the B52s
We’ve been having construction for the past six to eight centuries or so it seems. That’s because the roof of the library where I work (it is not a love shack, sadly) has been leaking since the 1970s, when it was built. So now they are fixing it. No, for reals this time. They are doing something anyway. Like whacking with what sounds like Thor’s hammer, and using buzzsaws, and stomping (possibly hopping up and down in work boots). We can even hear them talking. Of course, that might be because they have actually made holes in the ceiling while . . . fixing the holes in the roof.
My coworker J and I are waiting in our office / storage room for the roof to fall in on top of us. Or one of the workers to fall through the roof. Or their tools. Or the roof, the worker, and the tools. It’s slightly disconcerting, to say the least. We have a hard hat up here, but only one, which means too bad for J! Actually no, I’m not wearing it either because that one’s even harder to explain away than the massive head set I’ve got on. I thought they were headphones, but turns out to find them on Amazon you have to look under ear muffs, which I thought were a totally different thing.
Cause I am buying some of these for myself. That’s because there are only two of these in the building. Congrats – two people can save their hearing! I am one of them because I borrowed them from downstairs. I am sensitive to most noise, like staplers, especially the way some people (lookin’ at you J) use their staplers (ka-bam!). So construction is like the atom bomb.
When I first borrowed the ear muffs, the workers decided to take a break. Sort of like when you get the fly swatter, and suddenly there are no more flies. But I found I liked them because they blocked out the noise of the heater which part of the time is on iceberg cold no matter the season, my typing, and other sounds I never realized were going on (people breathing, etc). It’s like I’m in my own little happy cave. Yes, I can hear voices – or at least know when someone is talking so I can take them off and help them. (darn patrons!)
This, in turn, calms some of my constant free-floating anxiety. At least until the construction starts up again. I can still hear that, but it’s not quite as excruciating. You’d think after two infants and years of a Sony Walkman (if you don’t know what this is, shut up) turned way up that I’d have lost enough hearing already, but apparently not. Nope, my senses are better than ever! I also get colder than other people, and I smell stuff no one else smells, and I am allergic to the planet. Maybe in cave man days I might have survived lions sneaking up on me, but then I’d have gone insane from the cicadas while trying to listen for possible lion feet.
In the jungle, the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
He’s up, he’s up, go run!
Oh false alarm. I’m safe here.
I think someone is cutting through the ceiling again.
Talk to you later.
I can’t believe I missed it! Goldfish has a holiday celebrating unicorns, and it was yesterday, and I didn’t dress up with stilts or wear horns or make magical wishes! It’s a shame so few know of this holiday, because not enough people respect unicorns. Some people say they were left behind because they missed the ark while playing. Look, unicorns may be playful, but they aren’t stupid. They probably used their horns to toss off a couple of oogga boogitys (lost forever thanks the flood which is why we have never heard of them) and got right on board, their sparkly-ness guiding the way. Unless you don’t believe there was an ark, in which case unicorns evolved from horses and goats and glitter.
Unicorns are special because they fart rainbows. And they are all different colors, with long flowing hair, and they don’t seem to mind when you cut it, though don’t leave your fingers hanging over the bed at night, children. Also – sparkle. I created a Sparkle Pony a while ago, by slogging glitter onto an unsuspecting My Little Pony – one of the older ones before they took the Slimfast challenge. Then I had a contest and Evil Squirrel won her and she married Rainbow Donkey and they had adorable mutant spawn together. I’m not making that up. Don’t you just love a happy ending?
By the way, I still offer the “Yes I Am a Sparkle Pony” badge in my side bar should anyone, for some reason, want it. There doesn’t seem to be such a big deal about getting pressed by WordPress anymore (do they even do pressing?) so I think the next step is to just give each other unicorns and sparkle pony badges randomly. It works about the same as the Freshly Pressed system, anyway.
I’ve always loved unicorns because I love to live in a fantasy world of my own making, and would stay there if only work insisted I not use the “But I am a princess who must care for her sick unicorn” excuse. As a child, I used to have one of those Lisa Frank trapper keepers with neon unicorns and pegasuses (pegasi?) glowing with radioactive power. And I had My Little Pony, some of whom were not just ponies, but unicorns. And some were really confused because they were unicorns, ponies, AND pegasi. Talk about identity crisis. One must wonder about the mating process on that one too. That is, if one thought about that kind of stuff. Or about how unicorns poop.
Mmmm, ice cream! You know you’re old when you think “Hey maybe I should get one of those.”
Anyway, I’m still gonna help promote GF’s Unicorn Appreciation Day (when will the government give us a day off for this?) because someone has to think of the unicorns. There is enough cynicism and disbelief in this world!
Now I’ll make my three magical wishes (I hope they still work):
- I need more Coke to supplement my habit. That would be Coca-Cola, not crack cocaine. That’s only for really special occasions, like when the Pope comes over.
- I want to feel better, so that the doctor’s office is no longer that place where “Everybody knows my name”.
- A buttload of glitter. So I can put it in envelopes and send them off as campaign contributions to politicians I don’t like. Or just to people I don’t like period. They will never, ever get it all off. Thanks, unicorns!
Somehow I know there are more wishes that would be better, like wishing for more wishes (I wish Robin Williams was back so he could say ixnay on the wishing for more wishes). I also want everyone to feel better, except a few people who need to blow up. But mostly everyone.
Happy Unicorn Appreciation Day! Hug a unicorn today! And go to Goldfish’s redbubble shop and buy unicorn stickers! She even sold a onesie with Squirrel on it! I hope the lady who ordered it wants a manic child.
P.S. RIP to David Bowie, who truly understood the value of sparkle. I miss him.
“Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man
They say murdered three.
Strange things have happened here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.”
– “The Hanging Tree” from The Hunger Games
Nothing like The Hunger Games to come up with a happy-go-lucky song like that, huh? I bring it up because I think it fits politics so very well! And not just because I pretend killed almost all presidential candidates in a virtual Hunger Games earlier. You guyz, a strange thing happened, according to Facebook News – tagline: News for Lazy People. No I’m not talking about how Trump said Hillary was not a victim of adultery – because she caused it. I mean, of course she caused it! She wore pant suits and got educated and talked and stuff. Women should not do these things. It’s not natural. It’s not like we could have expected poor Bill to control himself! Wait, did Donald just kind of defend Bill Clinton?
See this is what I’m talking about – strange stuff, guys. But there’s more. Megyn Kelly, Fox News reporter who I love making fun of because of the Santa / Jesus thing (they’re white, white I say!), said something that made sense. I know! I was totally shocked too! Not only that, she defended the Supreme Court’s right to decide on gay marriage. I just . . . whaaaaat? But it’s true, just like before with Santagate, I’ve got video proof!
Like, what the gosh golly gees was that, Megyn? You just argued with the President of the National Organization of Marriage! I mean – there’s a national organization of marriage? How does one get to be president of that? Another commenter on Facebook asked that question, pondering whether it was like calling dibs on the front seat. I’m guessing probably. I’m not sure what this guy does exactly, besides gripe about gays and pick up a paycheck . . . wait that’s what most Republican politicians do also. But what would be the prerequisites for belonging to this organization? Must hate gays, must love marriage (so much so you marry multiple times!), must like showing up on Fox News and stumbling around so much even Megyn can make you look like an idiot, like sharpening pencils. Sounds good to me.
But ANYWAY, my point is that Megyn pointed out that the Supreme Court actually ruled on gay marriage and that, like, made it law. And he complained about having to kowtow to the Supreme Court and she was like, wtf the Supreme Court has the final say on this (that’s why they call them supreme and all), and he invoked the “I don’t know crap about Abraham Lincoln clause” and then she said . . . not making this up – that presidential candidate Huckabee said “Beep you” to the Supreme Court. Which he did! But like she noticed! And he said she was saying Abraham Lincoln was wrong. And – she just sits there with this hilarious expression on her face like she wants to just beat him around some more, but why bother when he’s doing it so well himself? And I had to check that this was indeed Megyn on real life Fox News. Check out her eye roll.
So what could have happened to our Megyn? Did she have like some Biblical moments where the scales fell from her eyes with her fake eyelashes? Did she finally have as much B.S. from Republican blowhards as she could stand? Did she goof up on her cue cards? Is she drunk? I don’t know. But I have found myself agreeing with Megyn Kelly, and as this other commenter pointed out:
“This man is a fucktard, and worse than that, he made me agree with Megyn Kelly. I hate him for that.”
Good point random person from the comment section! See, I am agreeing with things posted in a comment section now! Strange things are happening! Here’s another fabulous Facebook comment:
Could Megyn be turning to the Dark Side (we have cookies AND Cookie Monster!)? I tend to doubt it, but then I saw this. Yes, she’s doing a photo shoot and trying to look like, cough, Katherine Hepburne (blasphemy!) but see what she’s wearing? It’s a pants suit. Sure, call it a power suit, but you just stepped over the Hillary Clinton line, Meg. You even cut your hair. It’s the beginning of the end for you. Better start putting out resumes.
I’m almost sorry Hillary poisoned her in the games. Strange Things. Are you coming to the tree, er polls?
It’s sort of been a tradition, except the years when it wasn’t, for me to take a look back at my posts from the year before and remember all the stuff that happened (or didn’t). I received the WordPress thingie that thoughtfully smashes your stats into a form letter every year, so I’ll start with that.
I have no idea why I got 324 views on December 10th. I’m not even sure if I posted something that day. Maybe the spambots were out in force on the 10th? My top post was written over two years ago, and continues to get comments. This is kind of cool – and a little unnerving at the same time, sort of like when I learned what my top search word was the year I covered 50 Shades (No more top search word, WordPress? Bummer!) Here is an example of a comment I received this year on the “I kill virtual people” post.
Next, WordPress pointed out my top 5 posts of the year, four of which were written before 2015. WordPress helpfully commented “Some of your most popular posts were written before 2015. Your writing has staying power!” – which is WordPress’s way of saying “No one read your blog this year.” I’m kidding, some of you read it, and I thank you all! Especially since in 365 days I only wrote 67 posts. I think 2015 was a rough blogging year for a lot of people, some of whom fell off the face of the blogosphere and got lives or something. Or maybe sometimes they had a fat pony sitting on them, as I did part of the year, or were dealing with the Sick, for which I have no representation. Except this.
For those of you who read and commented during that time, thanks, and know I always read my comments, even if they call me “evil rhymes-with-itch!”. Now back in time to 2015, the year I will continue to write on dates for the next three months.
I whine about cold weather, play with Frozen legos, discuss Sad Pony, and rejoice in cold weather, for it did giveth a snow day, which the Things and I used productively, as usual.
I ponder about the 50 Shades of Grey movie, and attempt to sarcastically express gratitude for 21 days for my group therapy (5 posts that month, so you can imagine how well that went). Mr. Sad Person blowing up Snow White got a good response, though.
I continue the gratitude thing by being grateful for mass consumerism in opening 12 blind boxes of Frozen plastic figurines with my kids, ruthlessly screw up grammar on National Grammar Day, gush about the new Cinderella movie (with Frozen short), review the love song Grenade!, and talk about all the crap we have in TEXAS and how it makes us better than everyone else.
I participate in Merbear’s Beatles contest (and lose), put up a tent in the desert of Depression, start covering hard-hitting Facebook News (example: Alyssa Milano’s stolen breast milk debacle!), and sing about mundane chores to Disney theme songs, because I could.
More posts playing with dolls, a horrific attempt to decipher the lyrics to “La Bamba” (turns out it is not about a bomb), and a Mother’s Day post with Disney princess dolls who all have dead moms.
I shop for frightening things on Ebay, celebrate the birthdays of my Things, and with them plan the Disney Hunger Games.
I conduct interviews for the Disney Hunger Games (yes interviews with dolls – what?), write a post praising Science Fiction (that does not involve J. J. Abrams), and another post discussing the history of the South (we don’t all wave Confederate flags).
More crazy Ebay finds (what is wrong with people?), a report on the breakup of two puppets, a post about cats, and the beginning of the Disney Hunger Games, with Merida’s triplet brothers axing Snow White. Yes, it’s other people with the problems!
Lots of fun this month! The seven dwarfs act disturbing at the mall, I advise how to cure Insomnia (never listen to me), create anti-memes, learn about how freaky people in the 1940s were, and report that more people die in selfie accidents than shark ones.
I ponder the meaning behind the song “Rain, Rain, Go Away”, introduce the “Diva Cup” (not what you think -probably), report on dogs shooting humans, get injected with radioactive dye, and dream about Jeb Bush. All in all an average month.
I find out my gallbladder is missing, have the missing gallbladder removed (see cartoon pictures!), see Thing One perform in a musical, record a Disney Thanksgiving with the Things, and plan for 25 days of hiding a stuffed snowman in December.
The Things and I start hiding Olaf in fun and disturbing new ways, I write a serious post about gun violence titled the same as another post about goofy Christmas songs from a year past (search carefully), Olaf is lost and goes on a rampage, Disney characters become political and post on Twitter and Facebook, I whine about being sick again, thoughtfully select Christmas gifts for the whole family (especially the gun toting family), sing about boar head, test if the War on Christmas is real (it totes is), put political candidates in a Hunger Games random generator (how politics should always be done!) and write this here post.
Whew. 2015 down. Bring on 2016. Just . . . slowly. I’m still catching up.
Happy New Year,