The Blob
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.
Meet Blob.
Blob is the result of years of art class. Say “Hi!” Blob.
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.
The key is sliming out slowly. Yes that’s a bed he’s sliming out of.
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.
Where is the UNDERWEAR???
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.
This is where I am heading.
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.
NOMMMMMMMM!
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.
Pony sat on my motivation.
Squirrel has amazing self-control. He only ate 500 nuts this morning before puking.
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!
~Alice
Cover Songs or post I stole from another blogger!
Okay, so I haven’t been writing lately cause of the bloody pony and squirrel. If you’re new, you may not have been introduced. First there is Sad Pony. He might look like a picture, but he’s very real. He enjoys sitting on me and acting sarcastic to hide his deep, dark pain.
Deep dark pain. Check it.
Next up is Squirrel. He is also not just a picture, but a real anxiety attack in fuzzy form.
Oh woooowwww omg you haven’t used me in forever I’m here I’m still here what are you doing will you do something now omg I think the world is gonna end better take hold of my nuts wait did that sound bad hey where are you going?
So right, as Merbear, whose post I just stole, said, music can help tame these bad boys here, at least for a little while. At the moment I am looking into new treatments for them because they’re cute and all but I want them kept at bay. I want an actual life. When you can look at your blog posts, giggle a little cause gosh you’re funny, but then realize that crap, you’ve sort of gone downhill over the years, it’s time to do something. Anything. But before I take up drunk hunting, I figured I’d try to write a few posts. Just to say I did. And why music? Cause I can’t think of anything else right now! Awesome!
So I had a record player when I was really little. It was a Winnie the Pooh record player. And I played it quite a bit. I also used the record player in the living room. Sometimes you had to put one of those little circular things inside the single disks, cause they had a bigger hole. I don’t know why they had a bigger hole, they just did. Also you had to play them on a higher speed. This was also a fun thing to do to regular records, so they would song like Chipmunks. Where was I? Right, so I played records, like Ghostbusters. I remember that one, especially on high speed. Also “Bad Boys” by Miami Sound Machine now known as Gloria Estefan. I am dating myself. I’m a great date.
This brings back memories. I was so cool as a kid.
I also had cassette tapes (all you cute little millennials – google this stuff) and the first one I remember was Hall and Oates. My brother gave it to me, because back then he gave me stuff he wanted. Come to think of it, he still kind of does this. I was around eight I think? That was also when my parents gave me my first phone in my room (pink!), so they wouldn’t have to hear me yammer any longer. My parents were progressive that way. My brother and I both got Sony Walkmans, because my parents liked us also shutting up on trips. I would often listen to my player, especially when I needed to cover up my father’s twang Country music. I was pleased to find out that Thing Two was trying to drown out Hakuna Matata the other day while Thing One and I sang at the tops of our lungs. Apparently Disney doesn’t go well with My Chemical Romance. We felt sads about this – haha, no we didn’t.
I can remember thinking I was sooo much older listening to music. I walked home one day and the speakers at the baseball field were playing Cyndi Lauper’s She-Bop and I danced and sang like the bad nine-year-old I was, having blissfully no idea what Cyndi was actually singing about (thank you Cracked for clearing up that mystery). There are other songs that bring back memories of roller skating rinks (look it up) and amusement parks (ours was called Wonderland, for reals). Now that I’m older, I listen to other music, but I still love the 80s. They are the best. I like some of today’s music – some of which I will embarrassingly admit to later, and the oldies too, though not as much as Merbear. We still have this weird ability to finish songs the other one starts, no matter what the time or genre. Sometimes we don’t both like a song and we have to take a breather and say, it’s okay, everyone has faults. But mostly we enjoy the same stuff. While there are songs that you love, there are also songs you hate with equal passion. I’ll talk about that too, maybe.
For example, here is a song I hate. I HATE IT.
Music has a magical ability to change your mood. It doesn’t work on everyone – I had tone deaf English students. I asked them how all different genres of music felt, what it made them think of, from classical to modern day, from fast to slow. They said “your music sucks.”. I was 22, they were at least 18. I really don’t think four years should have made a difference. But wow, it can. For me, though, music is powerful. I can feel my heart swell when I hear it, and my soul soar. Like movies, music can take you places. It can actually heal you, and slow down your anxiety (lots of youtube videos are good for this). I even saw a video about this old man with Alzheimer’s who was non responsive – until they put headphones on him with his favorite music from his younger years. He literally came alive.
So yeah, I think I’ll talk about music. Here’s hoping, anyway.
~Alice
Sad Pony and Squirrel Ride Again
I haven’t been posting as much lately. I’m not sure if very many people have noticed, but I have, and there is a reason for it. Put out an APB for one sad pony and one squirrel possibly high on meth tainted nuts.
What?
I can’t help it Alice has so many nuts in her attic and I just go wild man willllllllllllld!
In case you don’t know much about these two (any first time people who somehow stumbled over here can find out more on my About page) these guys represent my depression and anxiety. Guess which one is which? I’ve been having issue with both of these little hairballs, and since I’m allergic to fur, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to both of them as well. Some say they are just pictures, but believe me, they are a little too real.
It’s okay, I’m one of those non-shedding anxiety squirrels!
These guys didn’t always represent my issues. Originally Sad Pony was just a funny meme I found somewhere that I tossed onto my page. I loved him so much I did this quite often. There is something about a pony that just looks this sad. I realize he probably isn’t really sad, he’s just tired, you know, typical pony burnout. But he sure looks pathetic in that picture. Added to the humor (my sense of humor is a little different, like me!) are the words “Sad Pony is Sad.” I find this dopey redundant sentence totally hilarious. But also fitting. Because even depressed, I can see humor everywhere. Sometimes, with enough distance, I can see how humorous some of my depressive thoughts can seem. Like Eeyore on steroids.
Noooobody worry about me. I’ll just sit here. With pins in my eyes. No, no, I’m fine, just that my life is a hollow lie and my soul a darkened pit of despair and agony. Oh, and I’m sitting on a squirrel. This makes me uncomfortable.
At some point, Sad Pony just became another character on my blog, just as he is a character in my life. I am not depression, and depression isn’t me. In this case, it’s a fat pony that just flops down on top of me and says “Take a break. Take 50.” It’s rather hard to get things done with this thing sitting on you. Forget the black dog. I have a Sad Pony, and ponies are heavy, especially when lethargic. Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never met a real pony – er beside this one who is REAL. Somewhere. I mean I have no idea who shot this picture. But I thank them.
Thanks so bloody much, Internet.
But I’m not always just sad. I also have anxiety. And the best way I’ve figured out to describe anxiety is with a squirrel. Have you ever watched these guys before? Holy crap, it’s like some wire in their brain is being repeatedly shocked so that they have to dart from here to there and back again for no particular reason that I can tell. Maybe it’s because they are toward the bottom of the food chain, and don’t want to get eaten. The only time I’ve seen them remotely calm is on the college campus where I currently work, and that’s because college students are always – purposely or not – feeding the little suckers. They’d grown so unafraid that they will actually sit on your foot. The squirrels, not the students. These squirrels can never leave campus or they will be killed almost immediately.
I’m a college squirrel. My major is Abnormal Psychology.
Squirrel also started out as a picture I threw into posts partly because of the Disney movie “Up” where a dog is given the ability to speak and, not surprisingly, he has little to say and is often distracted. He can be in the middle of a sentence, spot a squirrel, and yell randomly “SQUIRREL!” That’s my anxiety in a nutshell (pun intended bwaha). I can be totally fine and then suddenly feel extreme panic. I am fearful of what most people are not, like say going to work. Sure they might not want to go to work, but their adrenaline doesn’t shoot up because they are going there. This anxiety would be considered normal if I worked in, say, an ER. But I work in a library. Rarely is my life in danger at a library, though we have had snakes, bats, spiders, wasps, and yes, once a squirrel invade. Also when people shoot up campuses, they often go for the library. I learned this is our Active Shooter Training at work. It really helped with my anxiety.
OMG it’s a gun! Ruuuuuun oh wait it’s just someone’s laptop my mistake!
Laptops look nothing like guns, you moron.
As you can see, these two fellows often interact. Depression makes me see anxiety as even more ridiculous, causing me to feel sad, then spiraling me into anxiety because oh no I’m sad again and how long will this last and then back to depression because come on, you have nothing to be afraid of, Alice. Well, except maybe the possibility of a Trump presidency. Then again, if we do get him, we probably won’t last long as a country because we will be bombed off the earth. Either by other countries or ourselves.
Trump? Trump Trump Trump Trump OMG it’s a weapon of mass destruction!
That’s his hair, you twit. Still . . . point made.
Comforting thoughts, there. Not really, but what is comforting is that I have this blog. And over the years, I’ve had others identify with these two, and even encourage the figments of my imagination. It’s great when other people willingly share in your delusions. And no matter how much that squirrel runs, no matter how much he distracts me, no matter how much he encourages me to scroll through the Internet all day long or do impulsive things, I have a support system. Same with Sad Pony. There is usually someone – like friends Lindy, Jody, my best blog friend Merbear and naturally my Things (among others) – to eventually help distract me from the distraction of that squirrel. There is usually someone who, while maybe unable to lift that pony, will lie down with me until he leaves.
Goldfish even made Sad Pony and Squirrel stickers in her Redbubble Shop! You can also get them on a photo (I have them hanging up), or a pillow, or a baby onesie. Provided she still has it up? I don’t know. But it’s awesome!
So I’m having a lot of ups and downs. Meds really help with this, especially this last one that injected several of Squirrel’s best friends directly into my bloodstream, leaving me wanting to literally climb the walls and run out of my own skin. You are ready for anything to help you at that point, even a fat pony to sit on those squirrels. But I stopped that med, and I continue to hope for the future. For even the most sarcastic people have hope. I thank this blog, and my blog readers, for helping keep up that hope. I thank them for letting me be Alice.
When life throws you flamingos, play polo.
P.S. As a little aside, I have started another blog about my dolls, titled appropriately Wonderland of Plastic. I only have an introduction and one review up so far (Wonderrrr Womaaaaaaaaaan!), but promise more to come. I discuss the dolls and history and since it’s me, Alice, of course I have snark. I’m not sure I can totally write without it. This is also where I’ll be moving my doll stories with the Things. We have more torture planned for our Disney princess housewives. Because there is life after the fairy tale.
Always.
~Alice
And an Alice New Year
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.
Killing virtual people remains popular as ever.
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.
I bet Lisa is voting for Trump.
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.
Mucus or Trump Supporters?
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.
January 2015
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.
We played with dolls in the snow!
February 2016
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.
Whistle while you blow up!
March 2015
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.
Our contribution to Capitalism.
April 2015
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.
I sat on the tent.
May 2015
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.
Our Moms are all dead. THANKS DISNEY!
June 2015
I shop for frightening things on Ebay, celebrate the birthdays of my Things, and with them plan the Disney Hunger Games.
They grow so fast.
July 2015
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).
Everytime this quote is read, a Trump supporter cries.
August 2015
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!
This is totally normal.
September 2015
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.
What – just – what? 1940s, guys.
October 2015
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.
When hunting, make sure you can trust your buddy.
November 2015
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.
Where are we going? Gallbladder!
December 2015
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.
Olaf, that creeper.
Whew. 2015 down. Bring on 2016. Just . . . slowly. I’m still catching up.
Happy New Year,
Alice
21 Days of Gratitude: 3 in 1 Blow
Get it? Thanksgiving = gratitude? Also Squanto was hot.
So I’ve fallen behind in my gratitude stuff, blah blah, bite me. I’m determined to get through every one of these (aren’t you happy?) Let’s see, what was Day 3?
Day 3: Write about something you feel grateful for in your life today.
I just know what some people would write here. God. I’m grateful to God cause like I exist and He hasn’t started another flood in spite of the Tea Party, etc etc. You know what I think? Total cop out there. Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against God at all. I just have something against people who feel they constantly, and I mean CONSTANTLY, have to tell everyone how much they love Him. It’s sort of like the guy who is always going on and on about how wonderful and perfect and speshul his wife is. If he’s been married to her over 24 hours, I’m looking for the girl in the closet.
Note: You show love for people (and the god you worship) in how you LIVE not just in what you SAY. That being said, I’m so so grateful for my readers! You guys are awesome! Even the spambots!
(cough) Cop out.
Okay, fine, that’s a no-brainer too. Obviously I’m grateful for my readers. Just like I’m grateful for my Things – especially when they are hilarious and clever and, at times, out of my hair. So I need to use my noggin to come up with something different. And I did. Not only that, it takes out two days of gratitude with one stone!
Day 4: Write a short message of thanks for some of the “negative” things in your life.
I didn’t put the quotes around negative. What do they mean by “negative”? Are we talking “dog doo on the shoe” vs “terrorist attack” or what? Nevermind. I found something that answers what I’m grateful for even though it’s a definite negative (no quotes needed).
I am grateful for E.L. James.
WhyAlicewhywhywhywhy someonegetadoctorsheslostitforgoooood!
No, I’m serious. I am thankful, in the negative, for her because if she hadn’t written such crappy books, I would not have been compelled to make 1,000 posts mercilessly mocking them (and her) and so would not have been noticed by someone else mocking her (Speaker 7 – rest her soul) and would not have gotten my hilarious, inspiring readers. Which I really am grateful for, along with God (please don’t strike me down).
Okay, so 3 and 4 are done and now we’re on day 5. Hurrah.
Day 5: Take five minutes to write about how grateful you are for all of the wonderful things that you currently have in your life. Don’t long for what you can’t possess-instead, take stock of all the blessings you already enjoy.
I’m watching you, Alice.
Five minutes? Am I supposed to time myself, cause I type pretty fast. Also, has anyone else noticed that this is getting a bit repetitive? How many times do I need to be grateful for the same things? And another thing – notice that grateful is not spelled like “great” but like “grate” which is something that like covers vents and stuff? I always have to hit spell check on that one to make sure I’m right. Maybe not after this exercise.
I also considered that this would be a good way to show off to other people, especially if you post these suckers on Facebook or something. For example:
I’m grateful for my 1,000 inch flat screen TV, my XBOX 7500, my 5 million buckaroos in the bank, my handsome and virile husband, my perfect straight A, gorgeous, athletic children, the LORD, my house in Malibu, Ronald Reagan, brown paper packages tied up in string, kittens, and the less fortunate people (ie the rest of you) because you make me feel superior. Amen.
I could do that, but I won’t. I, Alice, am thankful for all the wonderful things in my life (how long have I been writing now?) like fuzzy socks, electric blankets, and those family and friends I live with and chat with (like my Wonder Twin!) and all that stuff. And also my FABULOUS READERS who will most definitely leave me lots of comments now.
Alice.
Letters to St Nick
I had absolutely no idea what to write for a Christmas post so I figured I would let you look back fondly on that year I sued Santa cause why not? I’ve helpfully combined all the posts (a series of letters back and forth to the big guy and our attorneys) right here. You’re welcome, and Merry Whatever.
Alice’s Letter to Santa
12/12/12
In five seconds this letter will explode.
From: Alice [Alice@wonderland.com]
To: Santa Claus [thebigSman@northpole.com]
Subject: My Demands
Dear Santa,Hey you know that stuff where I said I didn’t believe in you and your stupid tiny reindeer? Just kidding! I think you’re totally real and that you’re going to give me lots of material crap. That is what you do, right? I admit I’m a little confused on the whole concept. At four, my daughter asked to lead a prayer. Her prayer went as follows, “Dear God. Please ask Santa to bring me Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses. Amen.” I never realized you were middle management for God, Santa. I guess I could pray to your boss, but I think you’re a more direct line; and praying might be pushing it for me, as I hear your boss has lightning bolts.
My list is pretty simple this year. I just want peace and happiness and love and joyness for everyone. Also I want everybody to have a new purple flying Pegasus unicorn of their very own. Pfft, not really. I want a lot of stuff for me. You might get me the new purple flying Pegasus unicorn, since you failed to do that back when I was a child. This could be your chance to redeem yourself, fatty. I mean, Santa.
There are a few things I’d like for others, but mostly because it benefits me. First, I’d like that stupid kid to get her two front teeth, that other kid to get the darn hippo, and finally for that Santa baby twit to get all her crap so that they will all finally stop singing those songs. I hate them. A lot. Can you do that Santa? That would be swell.
Next I’d like for politicians to shut up. I think that would be ever so wonderful. They ought to be allowed to speak only on special occasions. With scripts. Prepared by normal human beings. I’m not sure how you’re going to accomplish this. Maybe you could import them all to the North Pole and give your poor elves a break. Yeah, I know all about your North Pole sweat shop you got going up there, Santa.
But what material possessions would I like for me? Glad you asked. I would like one of those living vacuum cleaners like the Teletubbies have. Get me a Noo-Noo. Also a new house. I know, you don’t have lots of houses at the shop. That’s okay. John McCain can’t even remember how many he has, so if you snatched one of his, he probably wouldn’t even know. Thanks.
If you just do these simple things for me, I will not only forgive you for past wrongs; I will not report you to the government for exploiting elves.
I’ll be waiting. Don’t mess up. I know where you live.
Alice Santa’s Reply 12/13/12 Hey, guys, you won’t believe this, but I totally got a response from Santa. I think he might have been slightly perturbed by my letter. Check it out:
I know, you’re jealous.
From: Santa Claus [ThebigSman@northpole.com}
To: Alice [alice@wonderland.com]
Subject: Your Letter
Alice,
My goodness, you are a RUDE little thing, aren’t you? And here I saw a picture of this cute little girl in a pinafore and thought that I was going to get a decent letter this time. Imagine my surprise when instead I got YOU.
You, Alice, are so not getting your Noo-Noo, or one of John McCain’s spare houses, and I’m certainly not letting you have one of my prized purple Pegasus unicorns. Those only go to good little girls. Good little girls do not ask Santa to steal, and they certainly do not try to blackmail Santa. That is a no-no. Therefore, I hate to say this Alice, but you are officially on my Naughty List.
And the Naughty List is NOT a good thing, no matter what those terrible books you’ve been reading say. Yes, I know about those. I see you when you’re sleeping, I know when you’re awake, and I know when you’ve been reading E.L. James. Shame, Alice. For shame.
I thought you should also know, Alice, that Santa unfollowed your blog. And I defriended you on Facebook. I do believe you are the only child Santa has ever defriended. Very sad, Alice. Expect coal to arrive in your inbox any time now. Also a large pile of reindeer poop I just had my elves scoop off my front porch.
Speaking of elves, I will have you know that they are very well treated. They do not work in a sweat shop. It’s very cold here. And I pay them in happiness and joy and Christmas spirit. Do you know what Christmas spirit is, Alice? It is not calling Santa a “fatty”, Alice. For your information, Santa is just big boned.
If you would like to get off my Naughty List, I would suggest you start doing the following:
Pet a kitten every day.
Smile.
Stop reading 50 Shades.
Try to be nice. Or at least pretend.
Stop blackmailing me and calling me fatty.
Sincerely,
Santa Claus
P.S. I haven’t been able to find Rudolf lately. That wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?
More Fun with Santa
12/14/12
That Santa is messing with the wrong girl. I decided to send him a friendly-type reminder via email.
From: Alice the Terminator [alice@wonderland.com]
To: Santa Jerk [ThebigSman@northpole.com]
Subject: What blinks red and poops glitter?
Santa Fatty,
Forgot to mention one little thing. Ding ding. That’s the sound of a reindeer harness. I have the best new flashlight ever. Also, a great lawn ornament. The most realistic on my block. Just sayin’.
Ooh, look, and here’s a picture:
Feelin’ lucky, Santa?
Looking forward to my Noo-Noo. Hint, hint.
Alice
P.S. It was way too easy to hack into your Facebook, Santa. “Ho, ho, ho” is a really lame password. Anyway, you are now friends with E.L. James. F.Y.I.
Santa Strikes Back
12/15/12
Wow, I am really enjoying these exchanges with old St. Nick. That’s what I love about WordPress. The community aspect. Hey, lookie, I got another email.
From: Santa is NOT a fatty [ThebigSman@northpole.com]
To: Naughty Alice [alice@wonderland.com]
Subject: Santa is getting a little angry now
Dear Alice,
There is no end to your depravity, is there? I sent a SWAT team of elves out to fetch my poor reindeer. Instead of Rudolf, what do I get? A pony with a bulb strapped to his nose. A depressed pony at that. Where is Rudolf?
I am not fooled by this, Alice.
If I don’t get my reindeer back soon, there will be no one to drive my sleigh. Then how will anybody get presents? You know, the deserving children that don’t steal and blackmail and kidnap innocent reindeer. Think about it.
Santa
P.S. Santa has nukes. F.Y.I.
Suing Santa
12/16/12
Well, this was getting out of hand, so I figured I needed some representation, STAT! Fortunately Thing One offered some advice as well as the help of her firm.
(In other words, part of this post was Thing One’s idea.)
From: The Law Offices of Thing One, Thing Two, Sad Pony, & Squirrel
To: Mr. Santa Edward Claus
c/c: Reindeer Incident
Dear Mr. Claus:
We refer to the incident involving the alleged kidnapping of one Rudolf Reindeer on the night of December 12, 2012. Our client respectfully has no idea what you are talking about. Said reindeer simply followed her home one day and our fellow attorney Sad Pony was there taking notes for the upcoming court case. Our client consents to returning said reindeer, but requires back payment of Christmas Presents for the last thirty or so years in return.
Don’t let this happen to you, Santa
It has also come to our attention that you have a nuclear factory located within 50 miles of your workshop. This is against North Pole code, and has possibly resulted in the glowing red nose of said reindeer as well as the various mutations found in some of your elves. It would be in your best interest to cease and desist operating your factory, before more legal action is taken against you.
Sincerely,
Thing One
Thing One, Thing Two, Sad Pony, & Squirrel, LLC
A Letter to Santa From his Attorney
12/17/12
Today I am proud to announce my very first guest blogger, Ravin from Ravin’s Rantings. Ravin has been my friend since I was just a 12 year old slightly deranged person. We are a tad older now, but she is still here – and now on my blog! Her firm is representing Santa, but it doesn’t look good for him, you guyz. Check it out:
Dear Mr. Claus,
I was alarmed and saddened to hear of the recent situation you face with Alice. We here at Elf Law are of course at your service. I must, however, advise you to settle out with Alice, for several reasons.
First, a lawsuit would not go well. The bad publicity would threaten your endorsement contracts with Coca-Cola and retailers.
Secondly, while I am aware that you have declared the North Pole a sovereign nation and yourself Absolute Dictator for Immortal Life, Russia and Norway would likely dispute your claim. Further, the North Pole Code took over five hundred years to develop in its modern form through careful negotiation between you and the native population of Elves. You already have a dubious track record with indigenous people:
If word of the nuclear power plant violation of the North Pole Code got out, The Elves Local #1 would strike, and force you to source new workers and move your workshop off-planet. Child labor trafficking isn’t as cheap as it was in the 50′s, Santa. You really don’t want to go there. You already have a criminal record, need I remind you?
I think it is also pertinent to remind you what happened the last time you allowed a feud with a mortal to escalate.
And it is no shock that Rudolph ran away. It’s entirely possible Rudolph is in cahoots with this Alice person.
Remember, he’s done it before.
In conclusion, the next time you have a dispute with a mortal, I suggest you call our office immediately, before taking actions that may be grounds for an emotional distress tort claim. Unfriending her and unfollowing her were reasonable decisions. Taunting and provoking a clearly unstable person by mentioning that you had done so may have gone beyond the bounds.
Had you simply cross-referenced her against our records, you would have found that you were under no obligation to respond to her letter or deliver anything to her, as your contract requires only delivery to minor children and she is an adult, pinafore notwithstanding. Additionally, Wonderland is outside our delivery area because of the undue hazard of entering the jurisdiction of the Red Queen and the relative lack of mortal children there.
However, given the mess you have made of the situation, taking her offer of an exchange in an alternative delivery location would be the prudent action at this time.
Sincerely,
Raven Elf,
Elf Law, L.L.C.
Well, after that exchange, you’d think I’d have gotten everything I wanted. This is not the case. Still waiting. Good luck to you, and Happy Holidays to yours and Fox News.
Alice
The Trouble with Alice
I’ve been trying to put what’s going on with me into words, and I don’t have anything but CRAYYYYYY CRAYYYYY, which makes for a somewhat lackluster post. But I’ll try anyway. I’ve struggled with my anxiety / depression for a while now. And the anxiety finally reached a breaking point on Thursday when the counselor suggested I go to le Chateau de Mentals.
It probably shows how twisted I am that it occurred to me that might make an interesting blogpost, going into the mental hospital. Possibly I have been blogging too long. Anyway, it also terrified me, and I’m not totally sure how it would help anyway. Sharing a room with another crazy person, going to group therapy with a group of crazy people, and paying through the nose for it. Actually, there is not enough money in my nose or elsewhere for such a thing. And I have insurance, good insurance, that will pay 30 percent of a stay after a rather large deductible. In other words, I will still owe thousands of dollars. If I were on medicaid, it’d all be paid for, but since I have insurance, this hospital offers no financial help.
I have nothing against anyone on medicaid, but I believe everyone should have the chance to be treated. If they want to, which as I said earlier, I’m not even sure if I do. If I knew for sure they would help, I might try it, because I am getting pretty desperate. My body is one giant exposed nerve, like the White Rabbit on LSD having a really bad trip. A sudden noise makes me jump out of my skin, and leaves me shaking. I can’t handle conflict of any kind. It’s just bad.
I am taking FMLA (unpaid but at least I keep my job) to try and get things together. But right now I’m in limbo, cause I have no idea what they plan to do with me since I am not going into the hospital. I don’t know how much time I’ll have off, what medicines they’ll try, nothing. I just know that I’m taking the paperwork to the doctor on Monday, so at least I don’t have to go to work then.
One of the worst things about the state I’m in is that I have upset other people without intending to do so. I fear I’ve lost relationships, or at least damaged them, and I have no one to blame but myself. I’ve had to take a break from Facebook for a while, and I should probably take a break from
other WordPress blogs. I have honestly considered just unfollowing everybody and starting over slowly. I mean nothing personal, but the number of blogs is overwhelming. Everything right now is overwhelming. When I’m better, I will pick back up on them. I would like nothing better than to be able to help others, but right now I’m not in the shape for it. And I know I’m not the only one.
I do have some posts, funny posts, that I plan to get to because I do still need this blog. I treasure all your comments and I’m never happier than when I make someone laugh. As I mentioned before, I have some Game of Thrones reviews – I have become addicted to that stupid show like Crack, but I guess it beats reality TV. Also, the girls and I recently composed a post about dead dogs in children’s literature and how much those books suck. It’s a real romp.
I appreciate all my readers. To my surprise, my stats have not fallen completely into the toilet in my absence. Thanks for that. I hope the rest of you are doing well, or at least better than Sad Pony and Squirrel.
Alice
25 Days of the Gambler
Well, Twindaddy is doing this challenge where you talk about songs and what they meant to you and crap like that. Or something. All I know is that it means prompts for like 25 days so everyone cheer. Oh woot.
My happy message for the day.
I figure I can crank out 25 songs based on that, and every one will be the Gambler. Know when to hold ’em. Right, so here are the prompts if you’re stupid enough to play along.
Because I care.
Oh yeah prompts.
Gambler, Smells Like Teen Spirit, Cats in the Cradle, Highway to Hell, Gambler, If You Like Pina Coladas, Gambler.
Go to Twindaddy’s blog for more information. Cause I really can’t be bothered. Oh, look, another random Grumpy Cat gif.
He has a point.
So get ready for . . . whatever. If you want to join in for some strange reason, go to his blog and you can get more details that might actually matter. Here’s another old friend.
I can kick Grumpy Cat’s butt. I’m just too tired today.
There should be some way to end this post . . .
My winning contest entry
In case you didn’t know, ES (Evil Squirrel) is running a contest in which you get like 20 dollars worth of free nuts. Or, wait, no, it’s free stuff from his store. Whatever it is, I am going to win it because so far I only have djmatticus competing with me, and let’s face it, his cute little story does NOT have what it takes to win squirrel merchandise. Not when I have this fabulous drawing here. (Click to enlarge the fabulousness.)
Suck it, dj.
As you can clearly see, I’ve got a squirrel, a unicorn (no one said it had to be a real unicorn so I’ve got Sad Pony all dolled up) and a possum all in the picture. All required elements. Squirrel is in love with the possum because the possum is wearing glasses and reminds him of someone he knows. Also, I threw in a tree filled with nuts. I’m awesome that way.
So anyhow, now I’ll just wait for ES to award me my prize while dj goes off and cries like a little girl.
Update: Goldfish and Judah and even one of my Things have also entered as competition. Dj is still gonna cry like a little girl.
Oops, I did it again
I missed another blogging milestone. My 400th post was like five posts ago. Now that’s either really impressive, or kind of sad in that I haven’t seen the sun in so long I’m almost as white as Edward, but not as sparkly. I’m going with impressive. Woot. And to further celebrate this achievement, I have made a doodle for everyone. No, not that kind of doodle, this one.
Look at meeee!
If you’ll notice, I made it in patriotic colors, so that you would all know I am an Amer-i-can. I am so hot, I write the word color without the “u”. Speaking of weird letters, that’s a four up there, not a “y”, though I realize it looks a little more like I’m saying Yoo than 400. Let’s see what my pals have to say about my milestone.
Yeah, post it, what difference does it make? Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.
Thanks, Sad Pony, I can always count on your support!
Alice made 400 posts and I just ate 400 snickers bars to celebrate and now I think I’m gonna ‘splode all over the place!
Please do so outside, in the trees, Squirrel. Ignore that couple up there.
Has anyone seen our mother???
Haha, aren’t my Things cute. Now get away from the computer, Momma’s busy.
Christian: In honor of your milestone, I am going to give Ana 400 smackings!
Ana: Yay!
Both of you, go away. And quit haunting my nightmares too.
Get down and do 400 push-ups now, Alice! NOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNOW!
Holy Crap, who let her in? I think that’s enough celebrating for now. I also have an update on the TLC poll. So far “My Secret Addiction” is edging out “Sex put me in the ER” by just one vote! Okay, so the most votes went to “Read a book” but pfft, like THAT’S gonna happen. Anyway, I realized I should have also added an Other category, because several people brought up other incredibly insipid shows including “Sister Wives”, “Secret Princes”, “Gypsy Sister Weddings”, “Morons from Hades”, etc. Oh, the decisions! Anyway, if there’s one you want more than another, be sure and vote, even if you’re voting twice. I don’t think the poll notices. Or you can always put in your write-in vote.
I haven’t forgotten about my Behind the Fairy Tale series. Stay tuned for “The Little Mermaid”, a story about everyone’s favorite bubblehead.
Anyway, have you guys reached any insignificant milestones lately? Tell me in the comments below!
aliceatwonderland 