This is my blog, and it is dangerous. Do you think I want to die like this?

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


me: I had a dream I was a superhero.
him: Ooh.
me: I could make things hot, but only with my left hand. With my right hand, I could make things cold.
him: So you brought back the McDLT.
me: Shut up.


The men of the house were gone for an overnight trip, so I was home alone with my mother-in-law. I'd slept poorly the previous night, because of this annoying cold I had and I was sleep-deprived. When I'm sleep-deprived and don't have to get anything done, I tend to just sit around, being peculiar, making unnecessary noises and being a pebble in the shoe of anyone around me. I decided to annoy my mother-in-law for the simple crime of being in the same room.

me: Do you like Ted Danson?
her: Uh. No, not really.
(minutes pass)
me: What about Peter Cetera?
her: No, um - not particularly
(several minutes pass)
me: Do you like Chaka Kahn?
her: You mean the real one?
me: ~giggle fit~ Yeah, the real one.
her: No. Well, I suppose he's okay if you like when someone kills a lot of people.
me: Wait. Are you thinking about Genghis Kahn? ~stifled laughter~
her: No, no - you know who I mean, there was a movie or something ...
me: Jesus. You mean Shaka Zulu!
her: Yeah, that's the one.
me: So what about Chaka Kahn?
her: ~gives me side-eyes~


4-year-old: I want to watch kookic funder.
me: what?
4-year-old: kookic funder.
me: cool chick ... funder?
4-year-old: No. KOOKIC FUNDER!
me: don't say it louder, say it slower. I have no idea what those words are.
4-year-old: kookic funder.
me: okay, um, it's "thunder", right?
4-year-old: yes.
me: what's the first word? try to make some sense, kid.
4-year-old: kookic.
me: jesus christ - what is he saying?
: I don't know.
me: fruit chick thunder?
4-year-old: kookic funder.
me: gahhhhd. kookish thunder?
4-year-old: kookic funder.
me: for the love of--what is he saying?
5-year-old: I don't know.
me: lucius thunder?
4-year-old: kookic funder.
me: give me strength. nougat thunder? what the hell, seriously. why are you doing this to me.
4-year-old: kookic funder.
me: wait - are you saying Celtic Thunder?
4-year-old: yes, kookic funder.
me: I am going to kill your granny for introducing you to them.
4-year-old: play kookic funder!
me: fine. but not the song about how all god's creatures have a place in the choir, some sing low and some sing higher, some sing out loud on a telephone wire, some just clap their hands or paws or anything they've got now. Because I seriously can't handle that one.
4-year-old: *plays Place In The Choir*

I find this song distressing. Perturbing. Is this a choir of telephones set on risers? Further, since in this ditty, you're either singing or clapping, what of the animals who have nothing to clap? Definitely not an all-inclusive situation. Snakes can't clap. A bird could flap, but the parameters for how to participate in the choir have already been outlined. You sing high or low through a land line telephone, or you clap. That's it. Have you ever seen a penguin clap? Caterpillars are left out. Fuck the alligators, their arms are too short. You know sharks are feeling pretty bad about not being included. Screw you, snails. Try not to fall over clapping, horses and cows. Lay on your backs to clap, toads, we gotta get this shit done. Spiders, pick up the slack. You too, Octopuses. Sea urchins, you shoulda known better than to show up. Legless lizards, honestly - quit wasting our time.

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Tuesday, January 14, 2014

I Play Sims (part68)

I got bored, so I made the family move. That's just how I do.

(The Builder at MTS created this gorgeous house and property. I only re-decorated it.)

Alright guys, remain calm - no pushing, no shoving. Just enter the new domicile in an orderly, civilized fashion.

Then form a tight clump and think about each other while Stanley searches for land.
Gross, guys. I don't know what sort of supplements you're taking, Stanley, but it's time to dial down the dosage.
Poppy skips out immediately to visit Adrien Brody. Yup.
It's a short visit. She only stays downstairs long enough to eat a red thing in his dining ... area.
Next, she heads upstairs to make the acquaintance of John Krasinski, who's currently serving a time out.
It's nice to meet each other.
Well that escalated quickly.
I think we might be keeping Adrien up. Also, uh ... are we currently on a boat?
Poppy wastes no time inviting John Krasinski to her home. Yeah, I know. Those flames. Maybe it's a rental.
After a brief, peculiar greeting, they go inside. It's nice inside.
See? You get to watch people shower inside!
I wasn't able to see what happened after Suri left, but John clearly brought a change of clothing and a makeup kit.
Although, I've seen this posture before, so it's safe to say that someone's bread was getting buttered in that shower.
That expedition necessitates Poppy breaking it off with this dude she didn't even know she was dating.
It went just okay.
Despite the drama, the family is settling in nicely. Charlie's even found a way to make a sandcastle out of stone tiles.
Everyone is having a swim, even Poppy, despite her crippling fear of potatoes eating her. In the pool. Pool potatoes.
This family activity was short-lived, however ...
... since everyone needed to get around the table, as it was time for Charlie to howl into his next age transition.
Sorry, Charlie. Nobody even cares about these things anymore. Nice scarf. Happy birthday.
This is one weird fricking party.
Kayla, I think it's time you consider counseling. This is not the behavior of someone who just ate cake at a pool party.


Pictures of the new house, for anyone interested!

I think you've seen one of these before. It's a kitchen.
Downstairs bathroom. You can bathe here, or just have conversations.
Downstairs bath #2 - this sink will probably be used to wash dishes, because that's logical.
Good room for clustering.
Other side of clustering room. This entire space is pretty much useless, except for milling about.
Here's a room where you can sit at a desk and stare at the kitchen,
or wonder what sort of unstable individuals would choose to sit in those chairs.
What's great about this space is that your family will gather around that piano and never stop playing or listening. Forever.
We're upstairs now. This area is completely inaccessible, so I just put a thing there, to remind everyone about stuff.
This is directly opposite the previous picture. A lonely bed, where we put people we do not like.
The upstairs bathroom. Where the magic happens.
Chess, bitches!
A great place to sit. I'd totally sit there.
A bedroom. Lots of perfume for your stink-obscuring needs.
Another bedroom. I've since had to rearrange the beds, since the Sims are too stupid to figure them out.
The end of the tour. A lone bed. Don't we feel depressed now.
I Play Sims (part69)

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Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Can't Stop The Music

You can take my word for it - you are going to want to stop the music more than you want to stop your MIL from coming for a week-long visit with a list of everything that's wrong with you and how you keep your home.

This is a film that's very hard to watch sober. If you're going to try, you'll have to do some prep work ahead of time. I'm pretty experienced with dealing with authentically endless bullcrap in my daily life, so I just flipped that little hidden button in my brain to "gaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhbsurdity time!"

Join me.

Jack Morell (Steve Guttenberg) works in a frightfully bustling record store in NYC. He has a life or death situation wherein he needs to get off work on time - however it's inventory night, so he has no choice but to quit on the spot. He's so elated that he skates through the city, clutching a tiny tape player while jamming out liberally for the entirety of the opening credits - without getting punched in the face or hit by a vehicle even once.

Long before the completion of those credits, this movie has turned me into a gay man. I suppose I'm okay with it, I just didn't plan on becoming gay tonight, and I have absolutely nothing to wear for the occasion. This is embarrassing.

I almost forgot about Jack's emergent situation he was skating off to deal with! He's a composer, and he has a guest DJ gig that night! This is a solid life plan, because I heard that Mozart totally got those 18th century Austrian ballrooms crunk back when he was in his guest DJ phase.

The rad thing about the nightclub Jack is working for is that it's owned by a guy named Benny (Jack Weston) who's dressed like a sparkly English garden. Naturally, Jack's brought one of his compositions to play that evening, and the song was written for Samantha (Valerie Perrine), who lets Jack live with her rent free, and keep all his composing equipment set up in her front room just in case he has a composing emergency. Nothing in the history of the Universe - since the Big Bang - has had atoms as excited as Jack Morell. He's on the verge of exploding every single moment he's conscious.

Meanwhile, Samantha's a pretty cool chick, even if she does get a little frantic about a bit of spilled water on her carpet. She's your typical bohemian - has lots of houseplants, keeps her contact lenses in mustard and relish jars and just retired from fashion modeling. It's groovy she was able to continue working up until she was eligible for a senior citizens discount on coffee at McDonalds.

After hearing the 30th repetition of "Suh-suh-suh-suh-suh-suh-MANTHA!" playing in the club, she has no choice but to demand Jack put together a demo tape she can shop around to ex-lovers in the music business. Unfortunately, Jack just quit his lucrative job at the record shop, so he's too cash poor to hire singers and rent a studio. Darn.

Samantha solves this problem by going out for ice cream. Hear me out. This is magical ice cream. It morphs from chocolate top/vanilla bottom to vanilla top/chocolate bottom to full vanilla and then chocolate chip without significantly changing in volume or explaining itself. Along the way, she (Samantha, not the ice cream) runs into many fabulous, completely straight male friends, inviting them to a gingham-tableclothed lasagna-palooza in her back courtyard at 8pm. I honestly should have seen that coming.

One might think she'd forgotten she already had a date that evening with a tightly-wound lawyer named Ron (Bruce Jenner), but really all she's forgotten is to care when he shows up with a smashed cake after getting mugged in broad daylight on his way there by an old lady with a scooter.

So many interesting things happen at this back yard soiree: Samantha's ex-boss crashes the party to try to convince her to return to modeling to do a campaign for milk, and gets fed a contact lens. The Village People almost form, but there aren't quite enough of them. A horny woman named Lulu (Marilyn Sokol) has skinned Judy Garland and is wearing her like last season's Armani. Why wasn't I invited, seahorse sea hell? *re-adjusts gaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhbsurdity settings*

In the meantime, a whole buncha hijinks and happenings occur. Uptight lawyer Ron dons a half shirt and decides to join Samantha on her quest to make Jack Morell a superstar composer.

The Village People take their final form and Samantha returns to modeling, dragging them with her, and the group of them, along with every other struggling dancer in NYC put together the sparkliest, show-stoppingest, most sexually-charged ad for milk ever. Strangely, milk was not ready for this level of sensuality, and the ad sits on ice.

Jack and his mother Helen (June Havoc) hijack Sam's ex music producer Steve Waits' (Paul Sand) private plane and convince him to reconsider by stuffing him full of kreplach until he falls into a deep guilt-nap. To be fair, this is the most realistic moment of the film. Almost anything can be solved with a good dumpling coma.

So, naturally, everything works out and thank god for that. There's just one thing that niggles at me, from my 2013 perspective on this 1980 movie. The Village People are not depicted as openly gay - in fact, they are shown nearly humping everything female within reach. I suspect that if one were to attempt to be gayer than the Village People, something very disturbing would happen to the fabric of space and time - it couldn't be done without dire consequences. These are the gay icons.

Other than that, oh my god. This film is great, in that kind of way where when it's over, you feel like you've truly been through something, and can brag to your friends about the wounds you've received.

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