*waves* Hi readers.
So...I really want to write something here. But I have no idea what to write. It sucks.
I prepared a file of writing ideas that have come to me o'er time for just such an occasion. But here in this moment...I've still got nothing.
But is that stopping me? Of course not. That's the beauty of blogging. Anybody can get online and write any kind of crap they want and publish it whenever they want, and boom! There it is.
Anyways...I was really hoping something would magically come to me just because I started typing. No such luck. I'm too tired, I guess.
I will say that I feel better for trying. I've really been slacking off on this whole writing thing.
So...what should I write about? What would y'all like to read? Leave me some love and let me know! ;)
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Beware the bridesmaids!
So last night Speedy, Squeaky, and I were lamenting the demise of Xanga...which got us talking about how stupid our blog entries in college were...which got me thinking about said blog entries. I seem to recall that I had a habit of just posting funny things that people said or in some cases entire transcripts of funny conversations that we had. So in the spirit of honoring Xanga/paying tribute to our college selves, I give you a transcript of Last Night's Conversation:
ME (to Katie): When I get married, I want you to be in charge of cake distribution and crowd management.
SPEEDY: YES! I get to be the wedding bouncer!
ME: That's right. I'm gonna give you a microphone so you can tell everyone, "okay, you've got five minutes to eat cake and get out. Leave your gifts at the door."
SPEEDY: Well, I'd probably give them more than five minutes. People have to eat the cake and they'll probably want to socialize a bit since a lot of people won't be able to go to the temple and all.
ME: Let me explain something to you about my people (Mormons). When it comes to time, you have to lie to us. It's not just about being late. Telling them five minutes will get everyone cleared out in like half an hour. It's perfect.
SQUEAKY: So maybe we should say two minutes so they'll be out in half the time.
ME: No, we'd better stick with five. See, you gotta at least pretend to be subtle about the lie. If it's just two minutes, they'll see through that as an attempt to get them to leave and they'll revolt. Five minutes is more believable. Now Cap'n, I want you to be in charge of decoration and be an assistant to the bouncer.
SQUEAKY: Can I have a Super Soaker full of coffee to spray at people?
ME: Oooh, coffee. That would scare the crap out of a lot of Mormonfolk!
SQUEAKY: I will keep it hidden behind a crucifix on the wall so when trouble strikes I can grab it and rush into action.
ME: Umm...well, that could work, except you wouldn't find a crucifix at a Mormon church. You'd have to hide it behind like...a painting of Joseph Smith or something.
SQUEAKY: No, it could still work. See, I'll be praying for you while you're in the temple, so whatever church I'm at I'll hide it behind their crucifix.
ME: See, that's all the more reason why I should get married in the Nauvoo temple, because Saints Peter and Paul Catholic church is right next door, so that would be really convenient for you.
SQUEAKY: YES!
ME: Wait...we don't have any paintings of Joseph Smith hanging up. And the reception wouldn't be at the Nauvoo temple, so maybe that wouldn't work. But I'm sure it would be around the corner or something. Maybe we should just have it hidden somewhere in the church with a sign that says "in case of the need to squirt someone with coffee, break glass."
(thinks)
What could Emily do at my wedding? (thinks) She could be assistant to Jessie when it comes to decorating, and she will be in charge of sewing. Anything that needs to be sewn, that's all Emily.
Sorry I've neglected the blog for so long. I will write more, good readers! Promise!
Monday, February 4, 2013
Hell Hath No Fury Like A Litterbox
So...I've always been a churchgoing Christian girl. Consequently, I've heard many a sermon about hell. Not to brag, but the descriptions of hell in the Bible never scared me. Maybe it was because I just couldn't grasp it, maybe because I'd like to think I'm on a path to heaven...whatever the case, fire and brimstone threats just didn't work.
But after tonight, I think I've experienced hell. And the portal to hell is called Yesterday's News.
Let me explain. Our household recently adopted a male cat. We've had plenty of cats, but always female. Last week Gus went to the vet for The Surgeries --- losing the claws, losing the manhood, the whole package deal.
When cats are declawed, for the first couple of weeks after the surgery they have to use a special kind of litter which is essentially rolled up, compacted bits of newspaper --- hence the brand name Yesterday's News. Regular litter could get caught in their still healing wounds and get infected.
The down side to the paper stuff is that it does not clump and consequently does not have odor protection. So frequent scooping is a must.
"Not a problem," I thought initially. "A nuisance, but not a problem." Scooping up poop several times a day was not fun, but it was worth it to have a sweet, cuddly kitty whose hugs can no longer injure me.
But then he had to pee...
Cat pee is already one of the worst smells in the universe. But the pee of a neutered cat is infinitely worse because all the hormones running amok...or something...I'm not good explaining these things. The point is, it is a smell that makes you wish for death. Not kidding.
I notice it when I come home from work and try to scoop it out. No easy task since it doesn't clump. I sift through the litter box, periodically bringing scoop fulls up to my nose for a good whiff so I can identify the offending scoop. Still nothing. Eventually I find an area that looks more wet than others. I scoop it, toss it in a bag, throw the bag in the garage, and retreat to the shower, foolishly thinking my ordeal was over.
It wasn't.
The smell was still there, and it was getting stronger. So I enlisted the help of my brother to dump out the entire box of litter to try and purge the smell. Still there. I have him rinse it out while I sweep the floors. Still there. I run to the shower with the empty box in hand, dump what looks like half a bottle of liquid soap in there, and scrub, scrub, scrub. The showerhead is on full blast; the room is filling with steam from the ridiculously hot water; I am losing it.
"And lo, hell is place of cat pee, and where the sinner must suffer an endless torment cleaning the litter of the cats of Satan (who have just returned from the Styx veterinary clinic). And lo, the sinner wails, and weeps, and nashes the teeth, but it is to no avail."
Finally, it seems I may get some relief. But then I carry it back to my room (which I have aired out a little) and...
THE SMELL IS STILL THERE.
"It's still there! It's still there!" I start screaming. (Seriously, I was saying this out loud.) I start throwing out some laundry on the floor, sniffing the bed, wondering if he peed on it.
As I've typed this post, the smell has gotten better...though now my head hurts. I realize perhaps I was being a bit overdramatic...though maybe I'm not.
You know what the worst part is?
I know that as soon as the smell finally leaves, Gus will come...probably in the middle of the night...and pee in the fresh clean litterbox...and I will be in hell ALL. OVER. AGAIN.
So if there are any preachers or parents or what have you reading this who would like to scare kids into submission, skip the firey lakes and endless woe. Just tell them they'll have to spend eternity with an army of neutered cats. That'll scare the piss out of them guaranteed.
And oh yes, that pun was intended.
But after tonight, I think I've experienced hell. And the portal to hell is called Yesterday's News.
Let me explain. Our household recently adopted a male cat. We've had plenty of cats, but always female. Last week Gus went to the vet for The Surgeries --- losing the claws, losing the manhood, the whole package deal.
When cats are declawed, for the first couple of weeks after the surgery they have to use a special kind of litter which is essentially rolled up, compacted bits of newspaper --- hence the brand name Yesterday's News. Regular litter could get caught in their still healing wounds and get infected.
The down side to the paper stuff is that it does not clump and consequently does not have odor protection. So frequent scooping is a must.
"Not a problem," I thought initially. "A nuisance, but not a problem." Scooping up poop several times a day was not fun, but it was worth it to have a sweet, cuddly kitty whose hugs can no longer injure me.
But then he had to pee...
Cat pee is already one of the worst smells in the universe. But the pee of a neutered cat is infinitely worse because all the hormones running amok...or something...I'm not good explaining these things. The point is, it is a smell that makes you wish for death. Not kidding.
I notice it when I come home from work and try to scoop it out. No easy task since it doesn't clump. I sift through the litter box, periodically bringing scoop fulls up to my nose for a good whiff so I can identify the offending scoop. Still nothing. Eventually I find an area that looks more wet than others. I scoop it, toss it in a bag, throw the bag in the garage, and retreat to the shower, foolishly thinking my ordeal was over.
It wasn't.
The smell was still there, and it was getting stronger. So I enlisted the help of my brother to dump out the entire box of litter to try and purge the smell. Still there. I have him rinse it out while I sweep the floors. Still there. I run to the shower with the empty box in hand, dump what looks like half a bottle of liquid soap in there, and scrub, scrub, scrub. The showerhead is on full blast; the room is filling with steam from the ridiculously hot water; I am losing it.
"And lo, hell is place of cat pee, and where the sinner must suffer an endless torment cleaning the litter of the cats of Satan (who have just returned from the Styx veterinary clinic). And lo, the sinner wails, and weeps, and nashes the teeth, but it is to no avail."
Finally, it seems I may get some relief. But then I carry it back to my room (which I have aired out a little) and...
THE SMELL IS STILL THERE.
"It's still there! It's still there!" I start screaming. (Seriously, I was saying this out loud.) I start throwing out some laundry on the floor, sniffing the bed, wondering if he peed on it.
As I've typed this post, the smell has gotten better...though now my head hurts. I realize perhaps I was being a bit overdramatic...though maybe I'm not.
You know what the worst part is?
I know that as soon as the smell finally leaves, Gus will come...probably in the middle of the night...and pee in the fresh clean litterbox...and I will be in hell ALL. OVER. AGAIN.
So if there are any preachers or parents or what have you reading this who would like to scare kids into submission, skip the firey lakes and endless woe. Just tell them they'll have to spend eternity with an army of neutered cats. That'll scare the piss out of them guaranteed.
And oh yes, that pun was intended.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
I Believe in Sex Cleavage, or Things I Learned in Graduate School
So I am way behind on this whole blogging thing. Fear not, good readers, writing more is on my winter break to-do list.
I have officially finished my first semester of my masters program in Social Work. And it feels good. Unfortunately, it has left me rather brain fried. So I'll admit I'm struggling a little to think of something Funny, Witty, Memorable, and/or Philosophical to say here.
But I'm here to assure y'all that I'm working on it. Really. If I don't write something non-academic soon I'm gonna explode.
Hey, that's a thought. Maybe I'll share Things That I Learned During This Semester:
-If you use enough of the right buzzwords, you can convince anyone that you know what you're talking about. Examples:
WRONG: The scientist believed that children sometimes act out because they did not develop a good relationship with their parents.
RIGHT: The psychobehavioral-ologist concluded that children between the ages of 18 months to 18 years sometimes exhibited anti-prosocial behavioral tendencies due to a lack of a sufficiently matured parent-child emotional modifier, also known as a Freudian scaffolding phase substage.
In the above example, the "wrong" phrase actually makes a lot more sense to the average person. But the "right" phrase sounds a heck of a lot more impressive...even though it's complete bull.
-"Sex cleavage" is an actual term in developmental psychology. And it doesn't mean what you think it means.
(Leave a comment if you want to know the definition.)
(I promise it isn't dirty at all. It's quite innocent, actually.)
-Similar to the buzzword phenomenon, when in doubt, just start ranting about The Man keeping people down. Works every time.
-APA citation guidelines are a great way to pad the length of your paper. Even with the most basic of citations, they're significantly longer than an MLA citation. For maximum results, try to get articles with ten million authors, because --- while MLA will let you get away with the bare minimum --- APA wants you to list EVERY BLESSED THING about EVERY BLESSED PERSON involved. Observe how --- with the right articles --- APA citation can stretch out your paper:
In a recent study, a research team from Lucrative University discovered that graduate students are "very whiny" (McSnooterton, Fugley, vonWeinerschnitzel, Fassbender, Jackman, Firth, Berkley, Harvardson, Patrick-Harris, & FitzMcMac, 2012, p.1999).
See? That's almost three sentences for a two word quote! Awesomeness!
-Always, always, ALWAYS check your email before going to class to make sure class is still happening. And to be safe, check every form of communication available to you: text messages, bulletin boards, Facebook, calling and harassing classmates to ask if they've heard anything, local newspapers, skywriting, smoke signals, etc. Likewise, if you find out anything, be sure to share the word with all your classmates via all the aforementioned communication venues (plus any others that I've missed). They'll be annoyed with the constant barrage of messages, yes, but not as annoyed as they would be if they showed up for class and the professor wasn't there.
-Always have money for vending machines. Always.
I'm sure there's more, but as previously mentioned...brain dead. Plus I'm pretty pooped. Today I was mostly off from work (had to do a presentation at a downtown high school) and I've spent the day doing heavy cleaning and running various errands. What happened to days off being fun? Anyone else remember that, or did I just imagine the whole thing?
Anyhoo, read the blog. Love the blog. Comment on the blog. Tell your friends about the blog.
And stay tuned!
I have officially finished my first semester of my masters program in Social Work. And it feels good. Unfortunately, it has left me rather brain fried. So I'll admit I'm struggling a little to think of something Funny, Witty, Memorable, and/or Philosophical to say here.
But I'm here to assure y'all that I'm working on it. Really. If I don't write something non-academic soon I'm gonna explode.
Hey, that's a thought. Maybe I'll share Things That I Learned During This Semester:
-If you use enough of the right buzzwords, you can convince anyone that you know what you're talking about. Examples:
WRONG: The scientist believed that children sometimes act out because they did not develop a good relationship with their parents.
RIGHT: The psychobehavioral-ologist concluded that children between the ages of 18 months to 18 years sometimes exhibited anti-prosocial behavioral tendencies due to a lack of a sufficiently matured parent-child emotional modifier, also known as a Freudian scaffolding phase substage.
In the above example, the "wrong" phrase actually makes a lot more sense to the average person. But the "right" phrase sounds a heck of a lot more impressive...even though it's complete bull.
-"Sex cleavage" is an actual term in developmental psychology. And it doesn't mean what you think it means.
(Leave a comment if you want to know the definition.)
(I promise it isn't dirty at all. It's quite innocent, actually.)
-Similar to the buzzword phenomenon, when in doubt, just start ranting about The Man keeping people down. Works every time.
-APA citation guidelines are a great way to pad the length of your paper. Even with the most basic of citations, they're significantly longer than an MLA citation. For maximum results, try to get articles with ten million authors, because --- while MLA will let you get away with the bare minimum --- APA wants you to list EVERY BLESSED THING about EVERY BLESSED PERSON involved. Observe how --- with the right articles --- APA citation can stretch out your paper:
In a recent study, a research team from Lucrative University discovered that graduate students are "very whiny" (McSnooterton, Fugley, vonWeinerschnitzel, Fassbender, Jackman, Firth, Berkley, Harvardson, Patrick-Harris, & FitzMcMac, 2012, p.1999).
See? That's almost three sentences for a two word quote! Awesomeness!
-Always, always, ALWAYS check your email before going to class to make sure class is still happening. And to be safe, check every form of communication available to you: text messages, bulletin boards, Facebook, calling and harassing classmates to ask if they've heard anything, local newspapers, skywriting, smoke signals, etc. Likewise, if you find out anything, be sure to share the word with all your classmates via all the aforementioned communication venues (plus any others that I've missed). They'll be annoyed with the constant barrage of messages, yes, but not as annoyed as they would be if they showed up for class and the professor wasn't there.
-Always have money for vending machines. Always.
I'm sure there's more, but as previously mentioned...brain dead. Plus I'm pretty pooped. Today I was mostly off from work (had to do a presentation at a downtown high school) and I've spent the day doing heavy cleaning and running various errands. What happened to days off being fun? Anyone else remember that, or did I just imagine the whole thing?
Anyhoo, read the blog. Love the blog. Comment on the blog. Tell your friends about the blog.
And stay tuned!
Monday, October 22, 2012
It was a dark and lucrative night...
Quite often I say to myself, "self, you have got to figure out a way to get rich quick so you can pay off your debts, pay off your family's debts, travel around the world, create scholarships, cure cancer, hire an attractive manservant to do your bidding, etc."
(Kidding about that last one.)
(Maybe.)
Anyways, I confess I do think of get-rick-quick schemes more often than I probably should admit. The other day I think I might have come up with a winner.
Maybe I got this idea because it's Halloween...or maybe it was from being sick for the past week. When I'm sick I watch "Unsolved Mysteries" like there's no tomorrow AND I take NyQuil, which often leads to trippy dreams. At any rate, who knows why I came up with this thought, but I did...
Are you sitting down?
Wait for iiiiiiiiiit....
I have determined that the key to me making a fortune is to write...
THE NEXT GREAT HORROR FILM.
Think about it, people. We are in love with scary stuff and monsters these days. "Twilight" (featuring vampires and werewolves) (or at least some version of them) is all the rage. I walk down the toy aisle and see "Monster High" dolls. And everybody and their brother is always talking about the Zombie Apocalypse...how to survive the Zombie Apocalypse, what weapons they would take, how much eyeliner is necessary, how to apply sexy makeup while running from the zombies (fighting for your life is no excuse not to look your best, you know), etc.
So clearly, America loves to be scared. But I can't cash in on any of these monsters. Vampires and werewolves and zombies (oh my!)...they've all been done waaaaaaay too many times. I could pull a Stephenie Meyer and completely reinvent the classic monsters. But that would just get me in trouble with the purists. And it's still been done.
As I've watched Facebook lately, it's clear that people are running scared these days. But they're not afraid of the aforementioned monsters. No. They're afraid of the election year.
See where I'm going with this?
That's right...I need to make a movie about political monsters.
I've already thought of what my critics might say, so I'm going to be proactive and answer your questions now before you have the chance to ask them. Time for Q&A!
1) The Scooter, how would you make this movie without losing half your potential audience?
Easy. I would make two movies: one with a Republican monster, one with a Democrat monster.
2) Don't you think that's a little odd?
I do, but apparently I'm not the first one to come up with this concept. I heard on the radio this morning while I was driving to work that the producers of the "Paranormal Activity" movies --- who just raked in another bajillion dollars with their fourth movie --- were concerned that their movies weren't appealing to the Latino market. So they have decided to focus their next movie on appealing to that market. Clearly, the horror movie industry sees the importance of scaring everyone equally.
3) How can you make these two movies without succumbing to horrible cliches and stereotypes?
Pfft. Cliches and stereotypes are the heart and soul of movies. No one will bat an eye.
4) Do you even have any experience writing screenplays? Or any connections?
Experience?! Pshaw! Amateur hour is all the rage. I'll just get discovered on YouTube or something. Only suckers go the traditional, hard working route.
5) Seriously?
Okay, that was unfair. The hardworking route is noble and good and awesome.
6) How soon do you expect to write these screenplays?
Wouldn't you like to know?
7) I do. That's why I'm asking.
Oh. Well, I suppose that's a valid point. I'ma gonna leave that up to you, readers. Which one do you want me to tackle first?
Tune in again for my first political screenplay. But first...I've gotta keep doing battle with this cold. Time for ice cream and "Unsolved Mysteries!"
*runs away humming UM theme music*
(Kidding about that last one.)
(Maybe.)
Anyways, I confess I do think of get-rick-quick schemes more often than I probably should admit. The other day I think I might have come up with a winner.
Maybe I got this idea because it's Halloween...or maybe it was from being sick for the past week. When I'm sick I watch "Unsolved Mysteries" like there's no tomorrow AND I take NyQuil, which often leads to trippy dreams. At any rate, who knows why I came up with this thought, but I did...
Are you sitting down?
Wait for iiiiiiiiiit....
I have determined that the key to me making a fortune is to write...
THE NEXT GREAT HORROR FILM.
Think about it, people. We are in love with scary stuff and monsters these days. "Twilight" (featuring vampires and werewolves) (or at least some version of them) is all the rage. I walk down the toy aisle and see "Monster High" dolls. And everybody and their brother is always talking about the Zombie Apocalypse...how to survive the Zombie Apocalypse, what weapons they would take, how much eyeliner is necessary, how to apply sexy makeup while running from the zombies (fighting for your life is no excuse not to look your best, you know), etc.
So clearly, America loves to be scared. But I can't cash in on any of these monsters. Vampires and werewolves and zombies (oh my!)...they've all been done waaaaaaay too many times. I could pull a Stephenie Meyer and completely reinvent the classic monsters. But that would just get me in trouble with the purists. And it's still been done.
As I've watched Facebook lately, it's clear that people are running scared these days. But they're not afraid of the aforementioned monsters. No. They're afraid of the election year.
See where I'm going with this?
That's right...I need to make a movie about political monsters.
I've already thought of what my critics might say, so I'm going to be proactive and answer your questions now before you have the chance to ask them. Time for Q&A!
1) The Scooter, how would you make this movie without losing half your potential audience?
Easy. I would make two movies: one with a Republican monster, one with a Democrat monster.
2) Don't you think that's a little odd?
I do, but apparently I'm not the first one to come up with this concept. I heard on the radio this morning while I was driving to work that the producers of the "Paranormal Activity" movies --- who just raked in another bajillion dollars with their fourth movie --- were concerned that their movies weren't appealing to the Latino market. So they have decided to focus their next movie on appealing to that market. Clearly, the horror movie industry sees the importance of scaring everyone equally.
3) How can you make these two movies without succumbing to horrible cliches and stereotypes?
Pfft. Cliches and stereotypes are the heart and soul of movies. No one will bat an eye.
4) Do you even have any experience writing screenplays? Or any connections?
Experience?! Pshaw! Amateur hour is all the rage. I'll just get discovered on YouTube or something. Only suckers go the traditional, hard working route.
5) Seriously?
Okay, that was unfair. The hardworking route is noble and good and awesome.
6) How soon do you expect to write these screenplays?
Wouldn't you like to know?
7) I do. That's why I'm asking.
Oh. Well, I suppose that's a valid point. I'ma gonna leave that up to you, readers. Which one do you want me to tackle first?
Tune in again for my first political screenplay. But first...I've gotta keep doing battle with this cold. Time for ice cream and "Unsolved Mysteries!"
*runs away humming UM theme music*
Thursday, October 11, 2012
I'm back with that not-so-fresh feeling...
Hey all. So...I created a blog to all this fanfare...and then I abandoned it. Sorry, loyal readers. I'm going to blame graduate school. I've been deep in the throes of writing papers.
*must go on quick nerdy rant, then will get on with tonight's topic*
I'm in an MSW (Masters of Social Work) program. My undergraduate degree is in English and Sociology (meaning I have the power to overanalyze things like you wouldn't believe). Anyhoo, one of the things I loved about those majors is
(NERDY PART COMING UP)
they believed in MLA, dangit! MLA is simple. Observe:
In the classic boring novel The Silent Moose, the brilliant author W. F. VanDerSmoot describes the angry, hormonal protaganist as "a lucious, temperamental mix of autumn's wind, summer's rain, and the ice of hell" (VanDerSmoot 1088).
See? Easy. You just put the author's name and page number in your citation. Technically, in that example, I could have gotten away with just the page number since I used W. F. VanDerSmoot's name in the sentence.
(In case you couldn't figure it out, The Silent Moose is a fictional example. But English majors really did have to read stuff as trippy and nonsensical as that. Seriously. How do you think we hone our abilities to read into everything? You have to do so to attempt to make any sense of that mess!)
However, in my program I must write in APA style, where citation takes forever and a day. The pricks behind APA citation are not content with just an author's name and page number (even though you provide the rest of the information in your reference list at the end). Oh no. They want to know EVERYTHING in the in-text citation: author's name, page number, year of publication, author's age, marital status, what the author had for lunch at the time s/he wrote, where the research was conducted, etc. It would look more like this:
According to Dr. Gunther Auchtung-Baby, Freud's psychosexual development theory is "inherently misogynistic" (Auchtung-Baby, p.191, 2012, age 35, single and looking to mingle, a Wendy's Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, chili with cheese and onions, large Dr. Pepper, medium fries with ketchup, Harvard University, etc).
See? It's a pain. The plus side to the lengthy citation is that my papers are often one part content to every three parts citation. Less is more!
*end nerdy rant, on to intended topic*
So as mentioned in my last post many moons ago, I feel I've been slacking off this election year. I haven't watched any debates, I haven't put any angry political commentary in my Facebook status, I haven't forwarded any emails about how Candidate A is a living saint who will make America so great we will be translated into heaven whereas Candidate B is the antichrist who will lead us straight to hell, I haven't created or shared any cutesy memes about Big Bird, nothing. I'm just downright unpatriotic, or so it would seem.
The truth is, I do have political views, but I'm fiercely private about them. That's how I was raised.
But there are a few issues that I break my own self-imposed Code of Silence to speak up about, and one of those --- the one I will focus on tonight --- is women's rights.
Some say there is a war on women. Whether you believe there's a war or not, there's definitely a lot of injustice going on, here and around the world. We still don't make equal pay. We are not equally represented in legislature. And some demonic force out there is still producing pantyhose and expecting us to wear them. Oppression! Oppression, I say!
Many women have wondered (and argued with each other) about what the solution is...or if there's even a problem at all. Well, ladies, the answer has been with us for quite some time. A member of the Enemy Forces (aka the male species persuasion) who is sympathetic to our cause leaked the answer in his incredibly funny book.
(I am referring to the great humor writer Dave Barry. Let us pause with reverence at the mention of his holy name.)
Anyhoo, he said the secret to defeating men is...
...wait for it...
tampons.
Bet you weren't expecting that, were you?
I know I wasn't...which is why I didn't take it seriously at first. But think about it ladies...Dave's argument makes sense. He claims that men are so afraid of The Devil's Cotton Finger that they will do anything, ANYTHING to make us women stop talking about them.
Picture it, ladies...
***SOMEWHERE IN A TOP SECRET GOVERNMENT FACILITY***
EVIL MALE CORPORATE OPPRESSOR (EMCO) #1: I think the way to fix the economy is to pay women even less money.
EMCO #2: Good idea!
*the other EMCOs enthusiastically agree*
EMCO #3: And we should make it a requirement that they all have to wear pantyhose to work, so then they have to buy more pantyhose, which makes them miserable, so their spirits will be too broken to rebel!
EMCO #4: Ooh! And what if we---
*is interrupted by loud shouting*
EMCO #1: Uhh...what's that noise?
*a thundering herd of angry women come charging in with tee shirt launchers*
ANGRY WOMAN #1: In the name of Susan B. Anthony, Hillary Clinton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and by the power of She-Ra, WE DEMAND OUR FREEDOM!
EMCO #1: *in extremely condescending tone* Freedom? But you are free. Free from worry because the big strong men will take care of you.
EMCO #2: Yeah! That's why we don't want you to work or have adequate birth control. We're trying to make life easier for you.
EMCO #3: We're just trying to protect you from the dark scary world!
ANGRY WOMAN #2: Protect yourself from this. FIRE!
*the army of women fire their tee shirt launchers which contain tampons and other feminine products*
*the manly men squeal in terror*
EMCO #4: Dear God! The horror!
ANGRY WOMAN #1: Ladies, commence verbal assault!
ANGRY WOMAN #3: Vagina!
ANGRY WOMAN #4: Pap smear!
ANGRY WOMAN #5: Tampons!
ANGRY WOMAN #6: *leans in to shout in EMCO #1's ear* I'M EXPERIENCING PMS!
EMCO #1: MAKE IT STOP!!
EMCO #2: Now hold on! This is terrorism, and we don't answer to terrorists.
*one of the angry women has switched on a live feed satellite image of the Oval Office where the Secret Service have been knocked out by crates containing Maxi Pads and the door has been sealed shut by a highly concentrated form of personal lubricant*
ANGRY WOMAN #7 (holding a tampon to the President's throat): Give in to our demands, or else!
And then the men would surrender and we ladies could have whatever we wanted. Equal pay. No more glass ceiling. Better child care and maternity leave options. Attractive male servants to do our bidding.
Uhh...just kidding about that last one. Maybe.
Sisters, unite! Harness the power of tampons! Together we can make the world a better place.
At the very least, let's rebel against pantyhose. They're just The Man keeping us down.
*must go on quick nerdy rant, then will get on with tonight's topic*
I'm in an MSW (Masters of Social Work) program. My undergraduate degree is in English and Sociology (meaning I have the power to overanalyze things like you wouldn't believe). Anyhoo, one of the things I loved about those majors is
(NERDY PART COMING UP)
they believed in MLA, dangit! MLA is simple. Observe:
In the classic boring novel The Silent Moose, the brilliant author W. F. VanDerSmoot describes the angry, hormonal protaganist as "a lucious, temperamental mix of autumn's wind, summer's rain, and the ice of hell" (VanDerSmoot 1088).
See? Easy. You just put the author's name and page number in your citation. Technically, in that example, I could have gotten away with just the page number since I used W. F. VanDerSmoot's name in the sentence.
(In case you couldn't figure it out, The Silent Moose is a fictional example. But English majors really did have to read stuff as trippy and nonsensical as that. Seriously. How do you think we hone our abilities to read into everything? You have to do so to attempt to make any sense of that mess!)
However, in my program I must write in APA style, where citation takes forever and a day. The pricks behind APA citation are not content with just an author's name and page number (even though you provide the rest of the information in your reference list at the end). Oh no. They want to know EVERYTHING in the in-text citation: author's name, page number, year of publication, author's age, marital status, what the author had for lunch at the time s/he wrote, where the research was conducted, etc. It would look more like this:
According to Dr. Gunther Auchtung-Baby, Freud's psychosexual development theory is "inherently misogynistic" (Auchtung-Baby, p.191, 2012, age 35, single and looking to mingle, a Wendy's Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, chili with cheese and onions, large Dr. Pepper, medium fries with ketchup, Harvard University, etc).
See? It's a pain. The plus side to the lengthy citation is that my papers are often one part content to every three parts citation. Less is more!
*end nerdy rant, on to intended topic*
So as mentioned in my last post many moons ago, I feel I've been slacking off this election year. I haven't watched any debates, I haven't put any angry political commentary in my Facebook status, I haven't forwarded any emails about how Candidate A is a living saint who will make America so great we will be translated into heaven whereas Candidate B is the antichrist who will lead us straight to hell, I haven't created or shared any cutesy memes about Big Bird, nothing. I'm just downright unpatriotic, or so it would seem.
The truth is, I do have political views, but I'm fiercely private about them. That's how I was raised.
But there are a few issues that I break my own self-imposed Code of Silence to speak up about, and one of those --- the one I will focus on tonight --- is women's rights.
Some say there is a war on women. Whether you believe there's a war or not, there's definitely a lot of injustice going on, here and around the world. We still don't make equal pay. We are not equally represented in legislature. And some demonic force out there is still producing pantyhose and expecting us to wear them. Oppression! Oppression, I say!
Many women have wondered (and argued with each other) about what the solution is...or if there's even a problem at all. Well, ladies, the answer has been with us for quite some time. A member of the Enemy Forces (aka the male species persuasion) who is sympathetic to our cause leaked the answer in his incredibly funny book.
(I am referring to the great humor writer Dave Barry. Let us pause with reverence at the mention of his holy name.)
Anyhoo, he said the secret to defeating men is...
...wait for it...
tampons.
Bet you weren't expecting that, were you?
I know I wasn't...which is why I didn't take it seriously at first. But think about it ladies...Dave's argument makes sense. He claims that men are so afraid of The Devil's Cotton Finger that they will do anything, ANYTHING to make us women stop talking about them.
Picture it, ladies...
***SOMEWHERE IN A TOP SECRET GOVERNMENT FACILITY***
EVIL MALE CORPORATE OPPRESSOR (EMCO) #1: I think the way to fix the economy is to pay women even less money.
EMCO #2: Good idea!
*the other EMCOs enthusiastically agree*
EMCO #3: And we should make it a requirement that they all have to wear pantyhose to work, so then they have to buy more pantyhose, which makes them miserable, so their spirits will be too broken to rebel!
EMCO #4: Ooh! And what if we---
*is interrupted by loud shouting*
EMCO #1: Uhh...what's that noise?
*a thundering herd of angry women come charging in with tee shirt launchers*
ANGRY WOMAN #1: In the name of Susan B. Anthony, Hillary Clinton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and by the power of She-Ra, WE DEMAND OUR FREEDOM!
EMCO #1: *in extremely condescending tone* Freedom? But you are free. Free from worry because the big strong men will take care of you.
EMCO #2: Yeah! That's why we don't want you to work or have adequate birth control. We're trying to make life easier for you.
EMCO #3: We're just trying to protect you from the dark scary world!
ANGRY WOMAN #2: Protect yourself from this. FIRE!
*the army of women fire their tee shirt launchers which contain tampons and other feminine products*
*the manly men squeal in terror*
EMCO #4: Dear God! The horror!
ANGRY WOMAN #1: Ladies, commence verbal assault!
ANGRY WOMAN #3: Vagina!
ANGRY WOMAN #4: Pap smear!
ANGRY WOMAN #5: Tampons!
ANGRY WOMAN #6: *leans in to shout in EMCO #1's ear* I'M EXPERIENCING PMS!
EMCO #1: MAKE IT STOP!!
EMCO #2: Now hold on! This is terrorism, and we don't answer to terrorists.
*one of the angry women has switched on a live feed satellite image of the Oval Office where the Secret Service have been knocked out by crates containing Maxi Pads and the door has been sealed shut by a highly concentrated form of personal lubricant*
ANGRY WOMAN #7 (holding a tampon to the President's throat): Give in to our demands, or else!
And then the men would surrender and we ladies could have whatever we wanted. Equal pay. No more glass ceiling. Better child care and maternity leave options. Attractive male servants to do our bidding.
Uhh...just kidding about that last one. Maybe.
Sisters, unite! Harness the power of tampons! Together we can make the world a better place.
At the very least, let's rebel against pantyhose. They're just The Man keeping us down.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Cast your vote!
Hello again all. I am ashamed to admit that I've been shirking my civic duties this election year.
What do you mean? We haven't even had the vote yet! you might be asking.
I know, and I *will* participate in that. But I have not fulfilled my Sacred American Duty of posting ten million angry comments about how I feel about the candidates/shared various mudslinging ads regarding said candidates/joined any Facebook groups to show solidarity with other people who are so darn angry about the candidates for whatever reason.
I know...I'm a horrible person .*insert sarcasm here*
So...to prove that I do believe in good old fashioned democracy, I'm gonna ask y'all to cast your vote. What topic would you like me to tackle for my next post? Your options are...
*My theory on how government reform can be achieved with tampons
*How the economy can be saved by Hollywood
*My airline curse and how I deal with it
OR
*Some other topic you think I should write about
DISCLAIMER: I make no promises on how quickly this post will come out. I am deep in the throes of writing a midterm paper/stressing about upcoming work events/trying to figure out how I can drop ten pounds ASAP. But...I do want to get more posts out there. Soon. And remember...this blog is about humor. So if you try to give me a serious topic, expect me to take a not so serious approach to it.
Anyhoo, sleep aid is kicking in. I didn't sleep well at all last night and these next two days are going to be hard core, so I need my sleep.
Leave me some love! Peace out!
What do you mean? We haven't even had the vote yet! you might be asking.
I know, and I *will* participate in that. But I have not fulfilled my Sacred American Duty of posting ten million angry comments about how I feel about the candidates/shared various mudslinging ads regarding said candidates/joined any Facebook groups to show solidarity with other people who are so darn angry about the candidates for whatever reason.
I know...I'm a horrible person .*insert sarcasm here*
So...to prove that I do believe in good old fashioned democracy, I'm gonna ask y'all to cast your vote. What topic would you like me to tackle for my next post? Your options are...
*My theory on how government reform can be achieved with tampons
*How the economy can be saved by Hollywood
*My airline curse and how I deal with it
OR
*Some other topic you think I should write about
DISCLAIMER: I make no promises on how quickly this post will come out. I am deep in the throes of writing a midterm paper/stressing about upcoming work events/trying to figure out how I can drop ten pounds ASAP. But...I do want to get more posts out there. Soon. And remember...this blog is about humor. So if you try to give me a serious topic, expect me to take a not so serious approach to it.
Anyhoo, sleep aid is kicking in. I didn't sleep well at all last night and these next two days are going to be hard core, so I need my sleep.
Leave me some love! Peace out!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)