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”.
V-Day? What could that mean? Vaccinate day? Venereal Disease day? Happy New Year? Okay, it’s not Happy New Year, since you could say I missed that one. Along with January. And most of February so far. But hey, I couldn’t miss the most important of days, which is of course Valentine’s Day – though it might involve the other two v days, depending on how you celebrate it.
Or if you celebrate it! I decided to google “Valentine’s Day is . . .” and it turns out people – this will shock you – think it kind of sucks. The first thing I got was “Valentine’s Day is Coming Memes”.
I got very excited about this, especially the article that promised to warm my icy heart. With memes. You might be doubtful about this, oh ye of little faith. But I dideth click on one. There were a lot of super funny memes, like the one where the guy from that office show says yes he has a date for Valentine’s Day and – wait for it – that date is February 14th. Do you get it? It took me a second, and then I
just sat there laughed hysterically. My heart is melted!
Okay I did like this one.
So that was from Bridget (@bridger_w) who took that little snapshot at a Rite-Aid. I now know what to get that special someone.
No more time for “Valentine’s is Coming” memes, though, cause it be right here mah peeps (check out my inclusive language). The second thing to pop up was how much people love this holiday cause it makes them feel super close to their significant other, especially when that other buys them that freaking enormous diamond ring from Jared cause even young children know that Dad is gonna score when he gets their Mom that ring from Jared! And there was nothing at all disturbing about that commercial that played roughly a million times!
Haha, I’m lying of course, because the sentence to pop up next was really “Valentine’s Day is overrated”.
If you’d like to know four, five, ten or even fourteen reasons why this holiday is overrated, all you have to do is google. I can summarize them all for you, though. Valentine’s Day is overrated because it’s a way to make people feel guilty if they don’t get suckered into paying money to retailers in order to prove love to that special person. It also makes people feel lousy if they don’t have someone to make them get suckered into paying money to retailers in order to prove love. This is totally different than Christmas, or birthdays, or anniversaries, etc. because it falls on February 14th. Look! I have a date for Valentine’s Day!
In light of all this negativity, I decided to look up the origins of Valentine’s Day. For all you naysayers out there, it turns out that this holiday is just oozing with happy and love and well this came up first.
Ah those romantic Romans! Executions! That’s just amazing. Two different guys named Valentine get executed on the same day (different years – did he remember or was it luck?) by this Claudius guy, so the Catholic Church martyrs them with St. Valentine’s Day. Clearly the next logical step was to make this day about love and chocolate too, just like Easter!
So there you go, a special Valentine’s Day post. In case you are planning a hot date, don’t forget that once again the perfect movie is out just in time for this day of love and torture!
P.S. Tomorrow the candy is 50 percent off. True love waits.
Don’t you just love Christmas trees? I do. Especially those trees decorated by people with Martha Stewart obsessions. Some of them look better than the department store trees, many of which are decorated with near soccer size giant shiny balls (now be mature).
The decorations on this tree match, and were probably put up earlier than three days before the actual holiday. But that’s not how we roll here. The Things and I have each gotten one ornament every year, a tradition started when Thing Two was eighteen months old, and on the naughty list. She loves how I tell this story every single year as I put up the ornament her Grammy and I bought for her.
You’ll also notice other people tend to fluff up the tree and straighten out the branches. Not us! Since Thing Two (who is awesome!) was the one to actually drag the tree in and put it up, I can’t complain. Still, this is definitely not one to go before the window, with its lovely branches and twinkling lights informing criminals that yes, we have lots of material goods! No, ours is the slightly tilting tree, held up first by a trashcan (never say Thing Two is not inventive) then by a tree stand meant for a living tree. My husband did some handy work, and lo, we had a tree that stood up without a trash can.
Next came the decorating. This is serious business, so here are some tips. Tip 1: Make sure you have ornament hangers ready. Don’t let them get tangled up, though!
Tip 2: For a truly pleasing display, make sure you put the tinsel on first, draping it nicely on the tree. Next place the ornaments on the tree with careful precision. You don’t want your tree to look like someone just tossed the ornaments up there willy-nilly!
Tip 3: Don’t forget to have use proper ornament placement, so that each ornament is just the right distance apart, thus making a pleasing design for the eye and insuring that every ornament is seen.
Tip 4: Last but not least, don’t forget the Christmas star or angel at the top of the tree! This decoration shows the true spirit of this season of love and harmony.
Our ornament collection is extensive. Many collected over the years, some given to us by slightly off friends and relatives, and some that we’re not sure about.
There’s also that special ornament that makes you smile each year. In the slightly-off relative category comes this mermaid, given to me by my cousin. The rest of the family have no idea how she was made, or bought, but several of us got one, in various hues. We call her the pregnant mermaid.
All attempts are made to keep ornaments in pristine condition. Some, though, still manage to break. For instance, we have a famous ballerina girl whose arm has broken over and over. Her arm is now bandaged carefully by scotch tape, and she’s quite happy with that. We don’t know what happened, but we suspect Elton John might be responsible.
The tree is important, but don’t forget to hang the stockings or you don’t get any loot. We have special stocking hangers. Two have decorations, but for the other two, we have to improvise. Thing Two knew just what she wanted on her stocking hanger.
There are occasional accidents on the decorating job. I attempted to use a cute little porcelain doll with ice skates on one of the hangers. It turns out ice skates aren’t the best at keeping a highly breakable doll steady.
It was unfortunate to lose the doll, but we are a family of scientists, so Thing Two couldn’t resist further investigating the inner workings of this doll. After removing her stuffing and discovering her exoskeleton, she decided to make her own little doll of horrors. I had nothing to do with helping her, of course, because I am a mature adult.
We invited Thing One to the lab, but she ran away shouting “Nooo! I still haven’t recovered from Toy Story!” This did not deter our scientist, who worked with the wire skeleton some more.
I might have gotten off track there. The fallen decoration was put to rest, and we stood back to admire our tree. It might not put the “k” in “kuality” but it’s good enough for us. I know the true meaning of Christmas anyway – Things!
~Alice and her Things
In the past I’ve done posts about my love of Christmas songs. There was Scary Santa Songs and another about the wacky song “Do you hear what I hear?”. I got an irate reader years later from that one. She felt the need to tell me the song wasn’t meant to be taken LITERALLY on a blog that is not meant to be taken literally. Except when it is. I looked it up, and found out I have two posts with that same title, and one is serious, and one is not. It would be enough to blow that poor reader’s mind.
This topic may seem funny, but trust me, it’s very serious to many people. Even good Christmas songs played repeatedly can get irritating, but when they are also nauseating, saccharin, repetitive, and / or questionable, it just gets worse. I got a few votes for bad Christmas songs from a reader, and searched the Internet for more of them. Not only did I find songs I had disliked for years, I also found a song I had somehow never heard of by John Denver. I still wish I had never heard it, and so will you.
This is just a portion of them.
1.Wonderful Christmas Time
This song was submitted by reader crimsonowl63. I say this so my good buddy Merbear will not get mad at me for including Paul McCartney. (THE BEATLES ARE FAB!) I usually like Paul, and I don’t detest this song like some do (it was on a few lists I found). However, it does have a wee bit of repetition that could get annoying pretty quickly. For instance, the lyrics “Simply having a wonderful Christmas time” are sung about 20 times (I counted) but it seems like more, and then there’s the part about the ding dongs.
“Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong”
No more ringing! Really, though, the best thing about this song is the video, made in 1979 with lots of LSD side effects. I love it!
2.Baby It’s Cold Outside
This song fits into both the “repetitive” and “questionable” category. Basically, a woman wants to go home, but the guy wants her to stay. Because it’s . . . cold, yeah, that’s it. But hey, it’s warm in his – house! They go back and forth repeatedly with her saying “I really need to go home.” and him saying “But baby, it’s cold!” and her saying “I have a heater in my car.” and him saying “I took the engine out”, etc. Charming!
Just once I’d love the song to end with police sirens because the woman speed dialed 911 while the guy continued to croon at her.
Speaking of 911, this time we have a woman seductively hitting up Santa for lots of material possessions cause she’s been good all year. She didn’t jump ALL the men she met, after all, so no harm no foul! This sounds a bit too much like the response many men in Hollywood, Congress, probably Mr. Roger’s neighborhood by now, etc., have had to accusations of harassing women. Good to know it’s equal opportunity.
Cause this woman wants a freaking platinum mine, and is probably willing to do whatever it takes to get it, including kidnapping Santa in her man trap or possibly forcing St. Nick into marriage so she can really have access to the good stuff. Hurry down the chimney, big guy!
4.Little Saint Nick
I know I’ve talked about plenty of Santa songs, but seriously, I can’t believe I forgot this one because man do I hate it. The Things were forced to perform this song twice a piece while waving red and green stop signs because school programs suck. It’s written by the Beach Boys who, as Thing Two pointed out, really only wrote one song ever, and just slightly budged the lyrics here and there.
This one’s not even about Santa, but his sleigh – although the Beach Boys are under the impression it’s either a car or a surfboard, since that’s all they sing about. The irritating, nails on chalkboard chorus really gets me.
It’s the little Saint Nick
Ooooo, little Saint Nick
It’s the little Saint Nick
Ooooo, little Saint Nick
Repeat this a million times or so. Run, run reindeer before the Beach Boys hitch you up to their woody.
5.Please Daddy Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas
No, seriously, this is a real song. By John Denver! The guy who sang happy, nostalgic songs about West Virginia and some chick named Annie! I had never heard of this song before, but it appeared on a bad Christmas song list somewhere and I had to check it out.
I realized I was filling an entire post just from my hatred of the “Christmas Shoes” song alone (“Mom’s dying! She needs shoes!”), so I figured this would make a good substitute for the bummer Christmas song category. It’s tough to get through the symbolism, but it seems this kid doesn’t want his dad to get drunk this Christmas, unlike last year when he passed out under the tree. Apparently this makes mom cry. He says this a lot. Dad drunk. Mom sad.
Here’s the festive lyrics.
Please daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas, I don’t wanna see my mamma cry.
Please daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas, I don’t wanna see my mamma cry.
Just last year when I was only seven, now I’m almost eight as you can see.
You came home a quarter past eleven, fell down underneath our Christmas tree.
Please daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas, I don’t wanna see my mamma cry.
Please daddy, don’t get drunk this Christmas, I don’t wanna see my mamma cry.
Mamma smiled and looked outside the window. She told me, “Son, you better get upstairs.”
Then you laughed and hollered “Merry Christmas.” I turned around and saw my mamma’s tears.
Here’s a user-made video with the happy twangy lyrics and inexplicably a flashing Christmas tree and fireplace. Oh, yes, you’ll be happy to know that this song has also been remade! Twice!
Yay, Christmas! That special time of year when parents go out of their minds trying to find the latest usually electronic toy while screaming into their own electronic toys.* Well, I think it’s time we forgot about this new-fangled stuff and tried some good old-fashioned family values gifts. Like board games! Remember those? Monopoly, Sorry, Clue – all games that inspired fun and delight and usually only one or two fistfights.
*Psst fingerlings spotted at Target! Just kidding.
There are some new games come to the table now, though, and all revolving around a specific bodily function. Every one of these was found in the Toys R Us catalog, and on the same page, by my astute blog assistants and children, Thing One and Thing Two.
- Pull My Finger Hilarious Game
Hilarious game, alright! I’m not just saying that, it’s listed as part of the title on the Toys R Us website. What used to be a gross grandpa game for unlucky kids is now a game you can buy for any impressionable children for just $19.99! Because we all know they need to be encouraged to do things like fart.
It’s good that they give clear instructions. Pull finger, butt inflates. I wanted to know how the butt inflates (naturally), so I investigated further.
There is a video on the earlier link with overexcited kids (really, one kid’s eyes cartoonishly pop out of his sockets, but only for a split second, so you’re not sure you just saw that or not). I also included this one, though, because the acting from the adult creators (yes adults) from Jakks Pacific (a respectable toy company!) is just that stellar.
Here’s a quick transcript . . .
Woman 1: (sees man and woman alone in room together with a monkey toy) What are you two doing?
Man: Have you seen this game yet? Ha ha. This is my life, guys.
(Woman 2 proceeds to show her what to do. Spin spinner. Pull finger.)
Woman 1: Like what is this gonna do?
Woman 2: Like, its butt is in your face and filling up with air. Guess!
Woman 1: This is so hilarious. I could not be more deadpan.
(After way too many pulls, and a small fart noise,the butt deflates a disappointing amount. Woman 1 squeals. All ask for checks.)
Clearly the first ad from Toys R Us overstated the amount of inflation and explosion. I’d love to see one where the monkey literally explodes. That would be entertainment.
2. Goliath The Original Doggie Doo Game
A game about dog crap? About time! I love that the website notes that this is no fake Doggie Doo, no, for just $22.99 you get the Goliath Original Doggie Doo game. That goodness, I do hate knockoffs when it comes to my poop.
If you look at the actual toy, it turns out Goliath here is a dachshund, a fairly disturbed one due to his owners maliciously pushing play-dough into his mouth, pumping it through his doggie digestive system, then taking said poop and putting it back in again, all according to the whims of the SPINNER. Someone call PETA.
After watching the ad on Toys R Us, I realize the game is by the company Goliath, it’s not the dog’s name. This dog is named Experiment 666. Also – these people need to get out more if they get that thrilled watching poop fall out. Just hang around any dog’s butt for a while and you can see this happen in real time. You don’t even need a pump.
3. Don’t Step In It! Game
Blindfolded, poop-dodging fun? Count me in! For another $19.99, you can try to avoid the poop Goliath left during earlier experiments. But what is game play like? There was no ad for this game on the website, so I had to go with the instructions on the page.
The Don’t Step In It! Game Features:
- Blindfolded, poop-dodging fun
- Mold the included compound to look like piles of poop
- Step in the fewest poops to win
- Play with friends or dodge the poop solo
I see so many more options for this game. For one thing, if you have your friends blindfolded, why just use some compound with unknown chemicals? Get the real thing, available in parks everywhere! Or for added excitement, up the ante with tacks or pieces of broken glass. Nothing says “popular game” like one that destines kids for the ER! Unless you have no friends, then dodge the poop solo and commiserate with Goliath and the farting monkey. They will never leave you!
4. Gas Out
I just know there are more poop games out there – they were all in the catalog together! Yet when I searched for poop games (not recommended) I found stuff like Chutes and Ladders. That is a crap game, true, but not quite what I was wanting.
So I had to settle for this gem. Gas Out is not a monkey farting, but an actual gas cloud. So in analogy, instead of playing with a dog that poops, we’re playing with the anthropomorphic poop. Yuck, I mean who would do that . . .
Back to the gas! The first picture they show you when clicking on the game on the website (again not recommended), is this one. Right away I’m seeing a very concerned looking fart and Math flash cards. No good could come of this.
If you click on the ad in the link, you’ll see kids dancing to ballet music while squeezing their farts. They really should have played “The Star Spangled Banner” for perfect background music. But exactly what is this green thing? What is its name? What’s its background story? Toys R Us lets us know.
Kids won’t be able to stop giggling with the Gas Out Game! Guster the Gas Cloud is full of intestinal discomfort and he’s ready to rip!
You know when “intestinal discomfort” is mentioned, the game has got to be good. I’m also impressed that the gas cloud, out of all the others, has an actual name. Guster. I will know now when I go to the doctor for – my friend’s issues, exactly what to call it. Maybe it will be on the 2018 list of most popular names!
Oddly enough, the ad did not explain the mechanics of this complicated game. Luckily, I found some.
Be the last player to pass Guster the Gas Cloud without him farting and win!
Players take turns playing Gas Out Number cards in their hand and pressing Guster as many times as shown.
If Guster farts during your turn – you’re out!
Special game-changing Gas Out cards like Skip and Reverse keep the play tooting along.
Includes electronic Guster the Gas Cloud and one deck of Gas Out cards.
Wait, is the X just a skip card, or is that a hidden feature? I’m still scared of multiplication, especially with farts. No word on whether the game developer added smell. Just feed the children beans and they can supply it themselves.
Well, that was a real pantload of joy right there. I had planned on showing off one other item – a fat unicorn who poops out supposed ice cream the kids EAT. No, I’m not kidding. It’s not really a game, unless you count gambling over whether your kid gets Guster discomfort from the ice cream. Personally, I’m not eating anything that comes from a game about poo or gas; I don’t care if it is from a bloody unicorn’s butt. And I was definitely not tempted to buy it (supplies are limited!) For more on this sparkly creature, see ES’s blog for that and even more frightening toys for the Christmas season.
Be sure to tell me what you think of these toys, or any suggestions for more fabulous Christmas songs, toys, traditions, or whatever else you’d like me to cover. Hopefully I’ll get to it before that sneaky squirrel steals it.
Hi, all, it’s holiday time again and I sort of missed Thanksgiving back there, just like American retailers and British people. I did find out from a loyal UK viewer that they have started having Black Friday sales, even though there is no Thanksgiving, so it’s good to know we are still having a positive influence on the world. In years past, I have done posts on Thanksgiving or Black Friday, (Happy Link Drops!) or a combination of the two, which is actually more accurate to the relationships of Pilgrims and Native Americans at that time.
But Thanksgiving is dead and gone, just like the turkey you shamelessly murdered, so time to move on to Christmas. That’s right, it’s Christmas, not Chaka Khan or one of those fake holidays. Christmas with baby Jesus and Santa Claus and maniacal parents looking for stupid toys at inflated prices, and in-laws and dead trees and Starbucks cups, Hallelujah. In the past, I have provided my readers with helpful lists of Top Ten Christmas gifts, real meanings of scary Christmas songs, details of Olaf the snowman on a killing spree, etc., and I will get to those, but first let’s talk about a Christmas tradition.
Tradition 1: Ugly Christmas Sweaters
Once upon a time, people got ugly knitted sweaters (or jumpers if you’re a UK foreigner) from Grandma, and they had to wear them or else Grandma’s feelings would be hurt. I like to think this was done on purpose by some Grandmas as an act of revenge for that nursing home, but generally they were supposed to be gifts they for some reason genuinely thought family members would love.
Now, though, many Grandmas don’t sit around knitting sweaters all day. They’re off in Vegas. But people still haven’t forgotten about movies like “Christmas Vacation” and think they can be super cute by wearing “ugly” sweaters. They even have contests for the most ugly sweater. They had one at my former workplace, and the secretary asked the assistant director if she was in the contest. She said “No.” Awk-ward.
Your biggest question, I’m sure, is where people are getting these sweaters since Grandma flew the coop. Well look no further, retailers have solved this for you! They have purposely created lines of “ugly sweaters”. Just – wait. The whole point of the ugly sweater thing was that this was not done on purpose. You wore it out of good old fashioned Christmas guilt. You didn’t purposely buy it under a tag saying ugly. If you purposely buy something ugly while realizing it’s ugly, you’re just dumb. Also, these ugly sweaters aren’t even always ugly. Some looked fine to me. Who doesn’t like a cute penguin on their shirt? Heathens, that’s who.
Welp, that’s all I have time for today. Please feel free to give any suggestions below for other stupid traditions, songs, or gifts, or whatever else your annoyed about this Christmas and my Things and I will try to cover it.
Merry CHRISTMAS so sayeth the Lord,
ALICE’S TRAFFIC REPORT
You know what’s fun about driving? Hahaha. It’s horrible. People are assholes. And they own cars, and possibly machine guns, and they are all over the roads like fruit flies on dishes that maybe someone didn’t wash the last three nights. I would stop this whole driving thing, especially at the witching hour of 7 to 8 AM, but I have these Things I have to take to school. Some people call them children.
I also have something called anxiety, so things like say screaming, crying, and loud noises tend to make my nervous system short out, and it so happened that all of this happened this morning. It started around 6 AM when I woke up to my husband screaming through the bathroom door at my thirteen-year-old, who also has anxiety. And hormones.
So she totally responded to him, since she could hear clearly with both the radio and the shower on full blast. Once she finally started getting the idea that Mr. Alice was soon to go nuclear, she got out, put on clothes, and unlocked the door. Haha, I’m just kidding. She freaked out and cried. Now my husband needed to get to work at a specific time, which was fast approaching, and his clothes were in the bathroom because of course he keeps his clean socks and underwear in that bathroom, even though we have our own bathroom in our bedroom, as well as things like a closet and drawers.
Somehow the door got opened and husband got clothes and out the door, whereas my teen stayed in the bathroom, with the door still locked, and the shower and radio still running, as she scream cried.
I tried to get her out as well, to no avail, at which point I did the right thing and beat down the door with a two-by-four. Actually I laid under my weighted blanket as my heart rate attempted to go down to somewhat normal. Finally, she got out, and asked me to dry her hair. So the hair drying calm down only took like twenty minutes or so, during which time I tried stupid stuff like reason. Example: Hey maybe you should tell Dad when you’re taking a shower so he can get his crap out and not blow his top? Thing One also tried to help by telling moronic jokes as Thing Two twitched like a ticking time bomb. Anyway, the morning was going great considering I now at least didn’t have to get to work at the same time as my kids. It didn’t change the traffic so much though, which was what I was getting to, right?
I came up with the master plan of dropping Thing One off at the high school and then offering to get Thing Two a biscuit from McDonald’s which used to be a very easy, and cheap, fix. We got to McD’s and oh crap, they decided to block off the second lane most of the way so I couldn’t just bypass the other cars in a line and cut in front of them. This sounds like I’m just being an asshole, but it also keeps the line of cars from drifting out onto the highway, so technically I was helping. Not this time. Thing Two saw that we had only 10 minutes and decided I should just take her to school before time ran out and the teachers got together to sacrifice her to the administrative gods for being late which is really not much of an exaggeration because school is like some other universe.
Warning: 100% chance of foul language and caps lock
So we get close to the junior high and I forget for a second that I have the yield and the other guy has the stop, which was why she wasn’t moving, so naturally the person behind me HONKS THEIR FUCKING HORN. HOOOOOOOOONK goes the horn, and BAMMMM goes my heart which had just gotten into a normal goddamn rhythm thanks so much. I yelped in surprise, and hit my gas, and we got out of there so that the freak behind me could get to wherever she was going, which I’m hoping was straight to Hell.
Extreme? Yeah, try having anxiety and hearing a loud, sudden noise while operating large machinery. I will say that road rage is a very bad no-no and you certainly should not get out of your car and shoot a missile launcher (Second Amendment!) at the other car and laugh ecstatically as the car bursts into an enormous ball of flame. That would be wrong.
Still, it seems to me that the horn is mostly for use in an emergency, such as another car is about to hit you, or someone has a missile launcher aimed at you. It is really not for use because someone made you wait a half second at a stop. So fucking CUT IT OUT cause you don’t know what is going on in in the life of the person whose car you honk at, or what weapons said person might be carrying because this is Texas, and even dentists carry guns.
I did get Thing Two dropped off at school, and I even got a hug, cause I know how to drop her the proper distance away from the building. I decided I’d go back to McDs cause I DID deserve a break today and they DO have sausage biscuits and a hash brown for $1.50 which even I can afford. So all was well until, guess what you will never guess! Another car honked. This time it wasn’t at me, I’m fairly sure, it was one of the cars that was blocking the way. Not sure who honked at who, but they got moving away from me, and I was finally able to get home.
I can’t wait for tomorrow!