Hey, all, I was cleaning out my draft folder of doom, and found this review of Game of Thrones from er 2014 (?) that I possibly didn’t publish, since I can’t find it anywhere. Since people are all into the last season and all that, I figured I’d throw it up here so they can be reminded that it’s been insane since the beginning. Also, it’s a post! Check out up top for like a few other episodes, woot.
Welcome back, sparkleponies! It’s gonna be a hot time in the old Westeros tonight! Or something! A really cool thing happens in this episode. It involves Rat Nose and a bunch of molten gold. But we’ll get to that.
But it’s the best part of the episode. Besides Tyrion, naturally.
We start off with Ned lying in bed with a big owie. King Fatty and Queen Bitchy argue about what to do with Ned. The king is like crap, just get your stupid wife to release Tyrion who is the only decent part of this show and make up with that creeper Jaime so I can get back to drinking. Queen Bitchy wants him punished cause he’s so irritatingly good and then insults her husband saying she wears the iron pants in this family. He slaps her. I don’t normally applaud this, but in her case, yay!
Ned wants to go home, but the king is like if I have to suffer so do you, and gives him his job as the Hand back. Ned says “oh yay.”
Dany of the Barbarians plays with dragon eggs and fire, but doesn’t get burned. Do not try this with dragon eggs at home, kids.
That stupid three-eyed raven appears in Bran Stark’s dream again and I have no idea what that means and don’t care. His saddle is made so he gets to happily ride off straight into trouble which is what happens when you have a teenager babysit his little brother. Bran is nearly killed by a bunch of forest hobos, but is rescued, so we get to continue to hear him whine. Yay.
Arya Stark practices with her sword fighting instructor, who looks like some dude from the cast of Fame. She learns the only god she should worship is Death, and she should tell him “Not today.” Considering this story, you might as well worship death cause you see a lot of the guy, and it probably will be today.
Back to Dany again who is eating a bloody horse heart. Yummy! She has to eat the whole thing and not puke so someone can do a prophecy of her unborn kid – yeah that’s right, she’s pregnant, remember? She manages to keep it down, cause, wtf how did she do that? I couldn’t keep down toast! Anyway, the priestess says she will have “the stallion that mounts the world” and the less said about that the better. Dany yells that she’ll name her son Prego or something and the barbarians chant while Beefcake carries her around like she won the Superbowl.
Tyrion offers to confess to his crimes and is taken out of his sky cell. His crimes include lying, gambling, cheating, sleeping with prostitutes, and playing practical jokes. Hell, he’s so pure compared to the others he could be on this world’s Barney and Friends. Then he insists on a trial from Lady Psycho (Cate Stark’s sister.) It occurs to me I’m going to have trouble distinguishing people if I name them “pscyho”. Anyway, he gets his trial by combat. Psycho’s champion is a noble knight and Tyrion’s is a sword by hire named Brawn or yeah that works. Tyrion’s buddy wins, cause remember honor = stupid. Tyrion walks out of the place whistling.
King Fatty goes hunting while his squire (part of the eeeevil Lannister fam) gives him more and more wine. I can’t imagine where THIS could be going.
A peasant refugee from some massacre (ain’t that always happenin’ with them peasants?) says that Mountain guy, who works for the Lannisters (doesn’t everyone?) was behind it. Why? Out of revenge for Ned’s idiot wife taking Tyrion. D’oh! So Ned declares the guy an enemy of the throne, cause doing that to someone who works for the sociopaths in charge is a brilliant idea. Remember. Nobility = No Common Sense.
Sansa Stark (Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!) acts like a rude little twit to her . . . nurse? I dunno, and like Sansa, I don’t care. Joffrey pretends to be sorry and gives her a kiss (fumigate, fumigate) and Sansa is all in LURRVE and mad, mad, mad that Dad is making her leave this charming place for her own safety! Gawd, Dad! Ned looks in the Big Book o’ Thrones and sees that all the others in the king’s line had black hair but his kids have blond hair which means oh-oh unless you know, genetics, but they don’t know that stuff I guess so oh well.
Back with the barbarians, Rat Nose gets drunk and threatens to kill Dany’s baby right in front of Beefcake, who is like 3 of Rat Nose. Beefcake finally gets fed up and tells him he can have his crown. Then he has his men hold Rat Nose down while he throws gold in a hot cauldron and Rat Nose thinks oh crap, this might have been a bad idea, right before Beefcake pours gold all over his head, saying “A crown for a king.” Dude only knows like 10 words, but he makes them count. Buh-bye Rat Nose!
Now for our song. To the tune of “The Love Boat”
Game of Thrones (The Death Boat)
Climb Aboard. They’re expecting you. (bwah ha ha)
Death, life’s final reward.
Stab someone, they’ll try to stab you too
Game-of-Thrones! Promises something for everyone
Sex and violence
And Tyrion insulting peeps
Like an open wound or a festering sore
Game of Throoooooooooones! It’s Game of Throoooones! (hey-ah!)
Season 1, Episode 6
Death toll: 2, some knight guy, Rat Nose
Nakey toll: 1, Some prostitute lifts up her dress as a goodbye. And some people just send cards!
Update: Still decluttering around here. This happy joy joy life changing process is taking a while, because there’s so much stuff and I rapidly vacillate from wanting to throw it all away in a blaze of glory, to wanting to gather my stuff in my hands and spit “My preciousss!” into imaginary cameras.
I’ve seen a lot of complaints about Marie Kondo (see that older post) and other organizing gurus and how this whole minimalism concept and the idea of throwing out extra consumer crap is only for rich people because poor people can’t afford stuff. The writers of these articles have clearly never met a poor person. As if you have to have money for stuff! I’ve never had a great deal of money, but I’ve always had stuff. People love giving you stuff, because they redecorated or they just watched Netflix and now they have a spare entertainment center, or couch, or bed, or recliner, or T.V., or child. And yes we’ve gotten every one of those things given to us – except the child. Our children were DIY projects.
But I digress. Time to begin.
Step One: Clothes
We’ve also been given hand-me-down clothes – so many clothes – by well meaning people. Thing One gets clothes, and Thing Two gets clothes, then Thing Two gets the clothes that Thing One just outgrew. So she gets twice the clothes, and guess what? They almost all spark joy in this kid, so she doesn’t like giving them up. It’s hard to complain since my children have dressed like I spent hours in the dark searching Ambercrombie and Fitch when in fact I shop at Walmart where I can get shirts for a dollar. One dollar shirts, guys. Did I need the shirt? Did they? Well, not exactly, but hey you can wait a month to do laundry!
Maybe not the best plan. I honestly thought I didn’t hold on to clothes that much before I started all of this, but it turns out I don’t really hold onto clothes so much as I just lose them in various places. I have also changed size over the years, so I have clothes in various sizes because I might lose weight, or I might gain it. You just never know. The forties are fun! I’ve gotten rid of bags of clothes, though, and lots of extra bed linens because there is no way I’m folding more than two sets of fitted sheets. I’m also not using Marie’s cute little vertical napkin folding technique because it takes too damn long and I hang up most of my stuff. Unless it’s a fitted sheet. Then I properly cram it into my bottom dresser drawer in one giant wad, the way God intended.
Our town has made giving stuff away much easier by installing lots of dumpsters painted bright colors that are marked for the Children’s Home. This is awesome because I can drop my junk off and not have to show my face or talk to anyone. It’s just like I’m throwing it away, only I’m not, I’m doing a good deed just like all those people did for me! The only problem is that you can only dump clothes or shoes into it, not appliances or electronics or children – which you’d think they’d want being a Children’s Home and all. I do wonder if they get unwanted stuff dumped in there anyway. For instance, I heard that someone once dumped a live chicken into the book drop at the downtown library. It sure sounds like a hilarious idea – I mean a terrible thing to do. Thank goodness they now have cameras to keep people from this kind of mayhem.
So I’ve gone through my clothes once, and Thing Two volunteered a bag of clothes in exchange for four new clothing items at JC Penny’s where we were supposed to be shopping for dress shoes for her sister’s prom. I wasn’t going to let her get them, but then she showed me that they were three to five dollars, marked down from forty dollars, so of course I was suckered into it. She’s smart, that Thing Two. There isn’t a thing in her closet at the moment, but the clothes make a nice, comfy carpet, so there’s that at least. You are not supposed to “Konmari” someone else’s items, unless you can be super crafty about it so they don’t find out. So I still have the kids’ clothes left. My husband has few clothes, so that’s not a problem. The extra cars and car parts might be, since I can’t lift those into dumpsters. Not super crafty like anyway.
So does my house look better? Not a whole lot, but I’m making progress. Of some sort. While waiting for your house to transform you, I invite you to check out a different perspective on cleaning. Jennifer McCartney (author of “The Joy of Leaving Your Sh*t All Over the House”) is the real deal. She is sarcastic and funny and gets paid for it, which means I should hate her on principal, but I still enjoyed her books. If only I could get my parodies to market faster. Maybe if I marked them “Twilight Sexy Times Declutter Wars”.
Anyone else spring cleaning in April? Let me know. Also, do you want some stuff?
“You say eether and I say eyether
You say neether and I say nyther
Eether, eyether, neether, nyther
Let’s call the whole thing off!”
– “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off”
I’ve considered writing about this whole shutdown thing for – what is it – 30 some odd days now. CNN had a handy timer right down to the second, cause they are useful that way. I’m pretty sure most of the world knows how stupid we are by now, but just in case our government shut down for 35 days because well . . . here’s a quick summary:
Trump blarts, “We need a wall cause caravans and criminals and my red hats are mad I didn’t do it yet.”
Rest of Gov’t, “No big deal. You haven’t accomplished anything you promised. Have a hamburger and sign this saying you won’t shut down the government because you didn’t get millions for your petty little pointless project.”
Trump, “Okey dokey, oh lookie Fox News.”
Fox News, “Blah blah Trump is a wiener for signing yadda yadda.”
Trump, “I am NOT a wiener! No sign! Want wall!”
Government shuts down.
Ah, right, that’s it. But don’t worry, they said. It’s temporary. Even if it’s right before Christmas. I mean – who needs a government? We get anarchy with government anyway, so let’s call the whole thing off!
Now it was up to the Democrats, or rather Nancy Pelosi with the rest of the Democrats staring at their newspapers, to try to negotiate a deal with Trump. The first meeting went like this:
Trump: Am I getting my wall?
Trump stomps out.
35 days later . . .
Yeah, so maybe not so much fun. Turns out we do need a government for a few minor things to get done like:
Paying 800,000 government workers. (Billionaire Republican Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross says “They should just take out a loan”. Or maybe sell one of their yachts, Wilbur? “How about making a deal with the grocery store to pay later?”, dumbs Trump. Yes, he really did say that.)
Keeping poor people alive through programs like Food Stamps and WIC. (What poor people? Ask your neighbors for help! Like that government worker guy next door!)
Ironically, security for stuff other than the Mexican border like TSA, the Coast Guard, the FBI (they do stuff other than investigate you, Trump):
But good news, a few days ago the government reopened (expect the news on time, none of the time on the Alice network) but only for a few weeks. Fox News continues to say that Trump got a great deal. After all, the government opened back up after over a month, and he didn’t get a wall. Or anything else. So since this was such a success, it only makes sense that he would ask for exactly the same thing in a few weeks.
I think I can guess what Nancy’s answer will be. But what is our answer? How are we going to stop this ridiculous gridlock in our political system? Maybe we should ask our mother country, the Brits! They’d know.
Once again, WordPress, I do not want to learn about your new editor, and you can’t make me. Not until you take away the old one, like when the librarians took away the physical card catalog and I had to use the computer one.
Yes, there were physical card catalogs, shut up.
So I sort of missed telling anyone about what to buy for Christmas, and I’m super sorry because I know you were all bereft without my helpful shopping lists. I like the word “bereft”. I also missed Christmas day, but then I have had other Christmas specials if you want to check them out. Come on, you have nothing better to do but work and I know you’re on WordPress right now.
My best gift this Christmas was Tramadol. I contracted another sinus infection (I can get them from pure air I think) and my head was going to explode and I told the doctor that regular Tylenol and Ibuprofen had not helped so could he give me a shot of the good pain stuff? The doctor asked why I didn’t just take regular pain meds? Yeah, he did. Then he looked at ME like I was your average druggie. I am not average, you jerk. He gave me the shot. I felt so much better. Thanks, Tramadol!
I even missed Boxing Day! It’s a real holiday for the UK and Canada and I’m not sure who else. Maybe UPS. I was just thinking about boxing day because my highly cultured 14-year-old brought it up, since she is in debate and thus reads way too much about politics, other cultures, and critical thinking skills. She once wore a shirt with a UK flag to a 4th of July celebration, and no one noticed. Question: Do you guys celebrate independence from us Yanks?
Also I found a snotty article in the New York Times about what Boxing Day is in America – hint: she’s snotty about how dumb we Americans are. I mean sure, we are, but like I need this chick to say it. I’m pretty sure she’s not British cause I didn’t see any extra “u’s in there or anything. She said in the UK you guys give out canned goods and stuff to people right after Christmas (like how much charity to you NEED, sheesh), but that we Americans just stare glassy-eyed at our empty Christmas-present boxes. My family did NOT, Ms. New York Times, we stared at our our still full Christmas bags. They are festive and much easier than all that wrapping crap that my aunt insists on continuing to do, with ribbon so tight you have to saw it off with a knife.
The bags are still full because we haven’t figured out where to put the stuff away yet. I know, first world problems right? Where to put that pregnant mermaid ornament (an earlier gift from the same aunt)? As far as cardboard boxes, I do have a lot of those because I shopped from Amazon this Christmas. It is my hope that my small contribution will help them take over the world of merchandise, if Disney does not get there first. I should also point out I shopped too much from the Disney store so . . . healthy competition, guys.
I did get a new computer since the one I’ve had for many years, which was a gift from a friend who had it for years before that, was conserving its last breaths of life by repeatedly turning itself off at random times. My husband bought my new-to-me (refurbished!) computer with money from his extra job guarding the media gate (with his mere presence!) during the first half of the fall football games. I think I’ll keep him, especially since in two days we will have been married for twenty years. It seems just yesterday I was the 22-year-old clueless, glassy-eyed newlywed staring into the camera with no idea what I was doing. I mean, I still don’t, but I’ve gotten better at hiding it.
Anyway, a new computer meant that I had to remember my old passwords which are usually saved on my computer because I can’t remember them. I kept mashing the same words in, since I really thought I knew them this time, only to realize that I was trying to get into wordpress.org instead of wordpress.com. I didn’t know there was a difference. Once I got on the right one, wallah, I did get into my own blog and there I found a list of blogs to read, and one of those was anupturned soul’s, and guess what she was talking about? Boxing day! And she’s like certified British!
I think we may be Time Life books connected sisters, anupturned soul (can I call you soul? Up? Got a nickname?) because I also like Dr. Who, or I did before this latest one and I totally got your reference to Amy Pond. I think she is one of the best companions and I felt very sad when her baby melted. For those who don’t watch, you had to be there. Thank you for your childhood definition of Boxing Day “. . . a day when everyone put on boxing gloves and punched each other openly, freely, without legal repercussions.” I can get behind this holiday. Like the Purge, only friendlier and not quite as bloody.
I do still plan on finishing my review of Mary Poppins. I am currently reading her second book, Mary Poppins Returns (also a new movie go watch now says Disney counting their money bwahahaha!) and the kids are still going on adventures and Mary Poppins is still being a jerk, so business as usual. I haven’t seen Mary Poppins Returns yet, but I did watch Saving Mr. Banks, a movie about the author of Mary Poppins, P.L. Travers, and Walt Disney, who tried to get the rights to those blasted books for about as long as I’ve been married. Also I saw Before the Mouse, a movie about Walt Disney’s early years and struggles to get started with animation. Say what you will about him, but Walt Disney was freaking determined. He also made his fortune without a “small loan of a million (or 600 million give or take) dollars”.
So now that you’re all caught up with me, what’s up with you guys? Guys?
WordPress just warned me that they have a new editor planned. WHY? I just now figured out this one and it’s been . . . a while.
Speaking of WordPress, long ago in blogland we used to pass around these blog awards and I would collect them obsessively and call them “blog bling”. I also considered stealing a certain one, since all you have to do – technically – is copy / paste it off a more fortunate person’s blog. That would be the Freshly Pressed award that I eventually got by insulting the editors of WordPress in a post. There’s a bit more to it than that, but no matter now since it is passe because they have Editor’s Choice or something like that. I don’t know much about it since I don’t have a lot of blog friends competing for it. So big deal, cause this award’s name is not nearly as stupid, (I do not think of a mammogram when I hear it) so I reject it, unless some editor wants to give it to me. I’m RIGHT HERE guys, and you know WordPress I noticed when you never responded to my suggestion that my booger post be given an award. Do you not read your tweets? I find this unprofessional, WordPress.
I was getting somewhere, oh yeah, I was given the Liebster award by blogger anupturnedsoul. I forget who or what a Liebster is, but this one award is super cool because it asks lots of bizarre questions and I love answering questions that concern myself. (You should check her blog out cause she likes me, which makes her amazing and crap.) So here goes!
What is a question? What does asking questions mean to you?
A question about a question? It’s like an English major wrote this. Or a philosophy one, since it was taken from The Philosopher’s Magazine.
What is a question? That’s easy. A question is the answer on the game show Jeopardy. What does asking questions mean to me? Asking questions is a great way to learn something new and / or annoy another person. Like when I asked this nun in my college class repeated stupid questions like “Do you have more than one color of habit, like for special occasions?” She was very patient.
What is an answer? What does an answer mean to you? How far will you go to get an answer?
Haha, I did not see this one coming. Naturally an answer is a question on Jeopardy, which I almost never get right. Like who cares where Monaco is, it’s like the size of Dallas or something. An answer means someone has actually solved something, like say the Trump investigation. There are no more answers, only questions like WHYYYYYY? How far will I go for an answer? Wikipedia. See above for question definition.
What would you do first in this situation?
Each option has an interpretation attached to it which you will find by clicking over to : What Would You Do First in This Situation? The Result Can Reveal a Lot About You – there are additional questions asked by the site which are: How accurately do these characteristics describe your personality? Do you agree or disagree with all the descriptions?
This one annoyed me, because how can it be a personality test when most answers just mean you’re kinda dumb? If you do anything besides go to the tea kettle (does anyone still have one of these?) you are risking a fire. The baby’s fine in the crib another minute, the dog has already ruined your furniture, and the corded phone (we still had one of those until recently) call is probably a telemarketer cause those are the only people who call on a home phone.
But these guys say “If you’ve chosen the kettle, it can mean that you’re a passionate and rather quick-tempered person. You make decisions quickly without doubts, and nothing will stop you from achieving your goal. You can quickly get bored with monotony. You care about your safety and don’t like surprises. It’s easier for you to follow a clearly defined plan without unexpected twists and turns.”
Yeah, I care about safety, like not having the surprise of a fire, though you know not having things on fire can be rather monotonous so maybe I should have let the kettle go after all. Cause I cannot decisions to save my life, which is why maybe I should have chosen the baby because then I’m a calm and resourceful person who sacrifices myself for others (like in a fire) and enjoys quiet evenings with my family which I should note does not include a baby. Yet if you pick the baby up first and then go to the kettle and the dog, you burn the baby and get its head chewed off by the dog. I’m assuming you’d still be holding the baby since it’s not going to just get calmed in its crib fast enough for you to escape the fire, the rabid dog, or that relentless ringing.
It’s possible I have overthought this question. Nah! Okay so if I choose the dog it means I’m a material girl who doesn’t like a mess, and if I choose the phone I’m a great communicator who can multitask (not likely with a corded phone) in which case why didn’t I grab the dog, the baby, the kettle, and then answer the phone? The answers have no questions and the questions no answers and we’re right back to question one!
How would you convince me that you are real and not in my dreams? (borrowed from Philosophy Cambridge Interview Questions)
I’m not real. This is a dream. Or IS IT?
What is your favorite word? (Q borrowed from English Cambridge Interview Questions) Why is it your favorite word?
Once upon a time, whence I covered 50 Shades of Crap, my blog’s top search word for the year according to Google was “crack whore”. This is not my favorite word, though, nor is crap, no matter how many times I use it. It’s a tough choice, but I think my favorite word is “stabby”, as in “I feel stabby today”. It may not be in the Oxford English Dictionary yet, but if they added “hangry” I think they can add “stabby.”
Also, since this is borrowed from interview questions, what kind of interview asks what your favorite word is? Are they wondering if you will blurt out “stabby” like I just did, so they know you’re a serial killer and can casually mark through your name on their list? I’m so curious.
What does the following illustrated story mean to you? If you’re not sure – What was the first thought which popped into your mind about it?
Oh, wise Tarzan, er Tanzan, teach me more about how to avoid sexual harassment lawsuits! I mean, the first thought that popped into my head was “Oh like that monk is so great.” cause that’s how my mind works. Actually, though, I think it’s trying to say that the student was worrying about the teacher mucking up his mind cause his was mucked up – ie get the two-by-four out of your eye before you pick at mine, you brat. I count people who go through youth books line by line looking for subversive material among these.
Which god or goddess from mythology would you be and why? (Q borrowed from a comment on anupturnedsoul’s blog – Two Narcissists in a Relationship? – a personal story)
Ooh, I know this one! Nemesis. She’s not as well known as say, Zeus, but I like her cause she’s the Greek goddess of revenge. Her job is to exact revenge for “hubris” against the gods, or in valley girl speak “She like thinks she is like SO GOOD.” Some people say you shouldn’t want revenge and you should live well, blah blah, but I think that’s because they couldn’t get away with it and besides, if I was Nemesis, this would be my job. Like, nothin’ personal. Hey, did you just run over your neighbor’s cat and think nothing of it cause you are so special with your corvette? Sorry, but Whiskers is going to haunt you for the rest of your life, buddy. Turn around – Whiskers. Go to bed – Whiskers. Take home a date – Whiskers on the couch waiting with his red, creepy eyes.
Not that I’ve though much about this.
If you could be someone else, real or fictional, for a day, who would you be and why? What would you learn from being them? (Q inspired by Fandango’s Provocative Question #1)
Last question, you guys! I would be Donald Trump. No wait, hear me out! I would grab my buddy Mike Pence and we would travel to Antarctica to visit with the penguins and those Eskimo guys. We’d miss the plane back – I’d only have to tell Mike that there was a woman on there if he protested. Then I’d go back to being me, and Donald and Mike would learn to live with the Indigenous peoples until they kick them out within days and then they would learn to live with penguins. Sorry, Donald, you don’t always get to be in the middle. You have to share warmth like all the other Emperor penguins. And outside people would be all “Yay!” until we get someone else stupid in office. What would I learn? In Trump’s brain, I’d probably have lost information more than gained it. I am willing to take the risk for my country.
Okay, so that’s the end I promise! Anyone still with me? I am supposed to ask eight questions of someone else, but my brain is fuzzy. I don’t know eight bloggers, but anyone reading I would LOVE to see answer these questions cause they are so fun. I’m going to check out anupturnedsoul’s other nominees and their answers.
Stay tuned as I explore the many bizarre versions of Mary Freakin’ Poppins!
You may have heard of The Blob. It’s an old horror flick about, well, a blob that goes around sucking people into it. There are several iterations of the same villain, such as The Creeping Terror, which was so scary that the actors would willingly help out by climbing into it. But the Blob I’m talking about is like me, cause that’s how I feel when I have little energy but am still expected to do things.
I spent a while thinking of what color to make Blob. First I considered black, but I’m not that far gone, and Blob is not emo, just blobby. So then I considered other colors like yellow (too sunshiny), brown (too poopy), red (too bloody), pink (too frilly), and gray (too bland). I finally settled on lavender, cause it looks grayish, but with bits of purple trying to poke out.
I don’t feel that sad most of the time now. I know I can do things, heck I even make plans sometimes to do the things. But then this inertia sets in and my body says “Haha brain, yeah we like sitting.” An object at rest tends to stay at rest, especially if said object is me, and it doesn’t really have anywhere it HAS to go other than dropping and picking Things (ie children) up at school. So after said chore is done in the morning, it’s easy to drop back into bed, but not easy to get out. So I sort of have to slime my way. Here it is in four simple steps.
I used a similar method for getting out of bed when I was very sick with pneumonia. I’m not that sick now, though I am getting over yet another respiratory infection and the antibiotics that treat it by making me all nauseous. But really, this was happening before any other physical cause. So I’m thinking blob might be a slight lack of motivation on my part.
I can blob my way to the kitchen, sliming around, grabbing a bowl I keep clean, avoiding the pile of dirty dishes, and then sliming back to my computer where I do important business. Like surfing the internet or drawing blob pictures. But inevitably I will need to do something like say – those dishes. Or the laundry. Or get those groceries. Or maybe try to join a gym because I am very out of shape and exercise gives you energy, right, if you can get enough energy to do it! The gym is, literally, one block away from me. And it’s open 24 hours a day.
But it’s never that simple! You can’t go to gym until you have clothes to wear to the gym. So you slime over and wash clothes. And yay you have a shirt, an exercise squeeze-you-too-tight bra and yoga pants that show all the wrong curves! Great. Missing just one thing. Something you really ought to have a lot of no matter what you do.
It is really bad for me to lose something important like underwear, especially when it is really hard to find underwear that fits right. As of late, it has been harder than buying jeans, and nothing should be harder than that. So I tried on type after type until finally finding one with no elastic in the waistband at all (as it should be) and of course they don’t have my size, which is monster size according to Wal-Mart. Keep in mind I wore a size 8 when I was 5’7″ and 130 lbs. That is considered X-large right there. I have to wonder what really obese people wear, cause while overweight, I still consider myself relatively normal. I guess they have to follow Babar the elephant.
I don’t want to have to go to the Big Store with Babar. I don’t trust stores that let in elephants who steal the purses of old ladies. So that means I must try to not get any bigger. Or blobbier. So after all that laundry and underwear searching (Alice does not go commando), I am way too exhausted to think about the gym. I’ve also worked up an appetite.
Speaking of appetites, another thing I could do to improve energy is to not eat so much not nutritious food. They say eating healthy (green) things makes you have more energy, or some such nonsense. So I make a pledge to find out what food constitutes healthy that I can force myself to eat. This lasts five minutes until my husband brings home Cocoa Crispies cereal. Really? What was I supposed to do? They were THERE.
So I have these two creatures I have to face: motivation and self-control. You might have met these two before if you’ve read my blog in the past. They have names.
I’ve been slightly blobby for a while now, but I always had somewhere I had to be in the past. Someone to check to make sure I was not blobbing 24/7. I don’t have a parent or a boss standing over me now, so that someone is going to have to be – yikes – me? They say pick a friend and ask that friend to hold you accountable for doing stuff, but yeah, I don’t have a lot of friends, and those I do have I don’t dislike that much. Also some of them have blob issues as well.
Have any advice for blobs? Feel free to offer it in the comments below! I will slime over and read them – eventually!
Have you heard the news today? They say that danger’s come our way. It’s a real land of confusion alright, what with all those wars and famines and politicians, but today our old reliable Facebook News had some real news people care about, news to unite all walks of life.
Kentucky Fried Chicken has run out of chicken.
Yup, you heard right. Now this is happening in the U.K., not here, thank gawd, but what a terrifying prospect! So much so that it naturally made international news.
Our media sure savored this little news bite, alright.
A wing and a prayer! Get it? I guess I can see this appearing on CNN Money, since KFC is bound to be losing it’s chicken butt over this shortage, which is causing stores to close all over the U.K. But that’s not the only problem they face.
There are some super angry Brits over there. Observe.
There are some marvelous quotes in here. “It’s a chicken place, so they should have enough chicken,” says one boy. That’s so cute how kids think logic should apply to real life! Other people took to Twitter with their annoyance over having to drive to multiple locations to find chicken. Multiple locations. They do have other chicken places in the U.K. right? Or is this chicken just so filled with artery clogging goodness that our mother country is addicted?
If Brits act like this, you realize we in the U.S. are in deep, deep trouble. As one commenter said, “There would be rioting in the streets over here.” I don’t doubt it.
KFC is deeply apologetic for causing so many in the U.K. to go without the two of the most important food groups (salt and grease). Here’s a sign from one of the restaurants.
So just how did they run out of chicken? As the sign mentions, the chain just got a new supplier called DHL who promised to “re-write the rule book and set a new benchmark for delivering fresh products to KFC in a sustainable way”. Jolly good job, right oh, I say! DHL explained that “due to operational issues a number of deliveries in recent days have been incomplete or delayed.” Operational issues, eh? As in what type of operational issues? Is it because some employees are still teething? That does hurt. Or have employees been stealing the chicken for themselves? Shoving it down their pants and making a run for it? There is clearly more to this story than they are telling us, people.
I mean it is super hard to round up chickens, kill them, and dump their body parts in a truck and deliver them to 900 stores! But I wonder if this could have anything to do with their new spokesperson, Reba “Colonel” McEntire. I mean, she was the obvious pick for a new Colonel Sanders, what with the natural resemblance. But some people are not at all happy with this and have complained. No, really.
Because this is a feminist issue! Reba is the first female Colonel Sanders, ya’ll! Well, sort of! Because while some praise her for, as one article puts it, “shattering the grease-soaked napkin ceiling,” others are upset cause the colonel can’t just be a woman, but must be a woman pretending to be a man. So, like, the colonel is now transgender then? I thought he was an real life man who’s been dead for over 30 years, but apparently not. He’s a character. Or she. Or however the colonel chooses to identify, for chicken is fluid.
So I think the problem is clear. Colonel Reba here has taken all the chicken. Because feminism. But KFC will make things right, though it may be over a week. Hang tight. And as another commenter said, “Prayers”.