Hungry? Blog tapas.

Feels like forever since we had some tapas. Let's start with a story.


Apparently, after I left the detox center, I was meant to go directly to some sort of appointment - of which I was not informed - possibly because I am not yet psychic. So, two days after leaving the center, I'm just cooling out in my kitchen preparing a sandwich when I hear a sharp knock at the door. Husband answers it, and I hear a female voice asking for me. Since I know exactly zero people in this entire state who would show up at my door looking for me, I responded in the only appropriate way possible: "Holy crap!"

It's this chick, wearing way too much perfume, telling me that although I'm not in "trouble", I missed that "mandatory" appointment and she was coming to check on me. Basically, she was there to make sure I'd filled my prescriptions (thank god I decided to!), I hadn't had any alcohol since leaving the detox center (nope), and that I wasn't in a bathtub with my wrists all slit and stuff (so far, so very good on that one).

Yadda yadda yadda, she hands me a card, and to prove that I'm diligent I immediately turn around and move to put it on the bulletin board behind me. Right on top of a birthday card for husband which reads, "BEER BEER BEER BEER BEER is the answer". Grate.

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Anti-depressants sort of make my properties noticeably ... slowed. I can often be found just staring at shit that doesn't warrant being stared at. Which will explain these next two pictures.

 

Not sure why the idea of Pop Tart "gear" vexed me so much, but it did. Am I going to have to start gearing up for eating toast and bagels too, or is it only fruit-filled items I'll be toasting? I'm exhausted already.

Thank god they're still putting directions on things that should be self-explanatory to any sentient being, because when Husband isn't applying the toothpaste tube itself directly to his teeth, he's smacking himself in the face with the box of Cheez-Its, lamenting his continuing hunger.

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Just over a year ago, I used to spend a lot of late-night time on the Sims 3 Facebook fan page, largely being annoyed (because I wasn't yet drinking all the time), and thus spending a huge amount of time just reporting annoying 11-year-olds and spammers, because sometimes you need to take a break from trying to write your blog. I've had this picture sitting in a folder since then, and I still can't figure out why it tickled me so at the time, especially since I didn't actually report the page.

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Celebrity-themed junk mail!!!

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Facebook ads!

...and finally, one of my last drunken Skype dates with my sister. It is my very mature reaction to her accidental spillage of liquid cheese.

That's my "very, very drunken hair" happening there. It's having a party of its own.
Anyhoo, love you all. Some of you more than others, but if you play your cards right ...

Title of Post

Welp, another Tuesday, another hastily assembled update. First, let's look at more Breaking Bad quotes-inspired motivational posters.

You don't want to? Go home. You're already home? Go to hell.

Junk mail!

Facebook ads!

Dreams!

I dreamed ...

that I was waxing a surfboard with a serious sense of urgency.

that when I couldn't find my shoes, someone suggested I wear backpacks on my feet.

that I was talking to a Mexican guy and kept shouting at him, "I eat your burrito!" while he shrugged at me.

that I kept going on business trips with former high school classmate/Facebook friend. During one meeting, where pizza that was cut into squares rather than triangular slices was served, this classmate insisted we eat from the middle to the outside edge, so that the grease wouldn't escape.

that I was walking up to a house in the middle of a junkyard with a friend, who was lagging behind.  I made it to the front stoop, where he caught up to me and informed me that some guy had just shook his hand and then ate yogurt with his finger. This was, according to my friend, some sort of redneck code for something.

Conversations with my husband!

Him: I used to be a hot dish, but now I'm a hot mess - help me Ove' Glove!

Me: I got my first "THIS!" on a message board.
Him: Huh? I don't know what that is.
Me: *explains*
Him. I hate the internet. But congratulations.

Him: ... wait - did you just say that a wild animal stole their rooster and nailed it to a tree?!
Me: No.

Me: I just realized this song is in French.
Him: ... uh ...?
Me: The song. I'm listening to. *gestures toward laptop & earbuds*
Him (relieved): Oh.

Me (touching face and hair): How am I such a greaseball so quickly?
Him: How are you such a ... faceball?

Me: Oooh, a line cook, that sounds fancy.
Him: Dare to dream.

.

I'm tapas-ed out of clever title ideas

Hi, kids.  I haven't actually been hanging around the Sims 3 Facebook fan page recently, but I did have a couple of things laying around. Hey look, it's Tania. She's always ... fun.

Also, this:

This next round of Youtube mistranscriptions requires a bit of explanation.  I have a friend named Andrew, from a magical land called Gamer Handles and he can rant like almost no one on this planet.  I've decided to put the chocolate of mistranscriptions right into Andrew's ranting peanut butter.

Here's Andrew (his rants are at the top, the transcriptions at the bottom) playing Track and Field - or, according to him, "God fucking Track and Field!  More like piece of shit and ass-fuck!"

Finally, a few bunches of Facebook ads.

I'd tapas that.

Let's get the hell started. Oh, wait - before we flop in with both arms, for those of you with a feverish hankering for Little Miss Mae, do click hereabouts.

Since one can never get enough of themselves making sarcasms at those tender souls who just can't resist the allure of free credits, here's the crap I say almost solely for my own amusement.

*****

More of this happy horse shit (thank gorsh this is the last batch):

I tripped over this link and almost broke my ankle. You know, if you kids don't start cleaning up after yourself, I may just have to stop caring. Eh, forget it. Throw stuff where ever you want. I'll probably be passed out under the pile that's moving a little. Don't wake mommy up.

I've got a huge spider trapped under a bowl. I've left a note for my husband with instructions on where to find this bowl, along with a request to kill it. What's the moral in this story? Don't crawl around on my living room floor when I'm not wearing socks. Four eels.

Guaranteed 100% Tatum O'Neal free since 2010!
I know, I should really add some Tatum O'Neal to my blog, she's as cute as bundle of puppies, singing gangsta rap.

Do you smell that? I think something's burning. In my blog. Be a dear and check on it for me, I'm not wearing socks and there's a whole procedure for bloggery when I'm sockless (trust me, you DON'T want to know). It's just easier this way.

The Grievances blog - now, and always, 100% grid-free and walls UP. Why? Because I CARE.

If you read this, I promise that a band of roving hobos won't begin camping out in your back yard, re-naming the space "Hoboton" or raiding your pantry for pork and beans and throwing a fit when there isn't any.  Although there is a SMALL chance you'll get a rash.

*****

Here are a couple screen caps I gathered from nowhere near the Sims 3 Facebook fan page:

*****

Here's some of the conversations I have without the aid of an invention:

Me (to my stomach): Don't get gas.
Eldest Child (age 3): Don't get gas.  Don't get gas.
Me: You're gas.
EC: You're gas.
Me: No, you're gas.
EC: You're gas.
Me: Your mama.
EC: Mama's gassin'.

Eldest Child: I can spit to Tijuana. (I'm 85% sure this is what he said.)

Husband: This just in: high-fives can give you cancer.

Me: Oh my god. Gina wants to be named after one of Bunny's chickens.
Him: What's the name?
Me: Gina, I guess.
Him: Wait ... what?
Me: Gina wants to be named after one of--no. She wants Bunny to name one of her chickens after her.
Him: Oh.
Me: Does that make sense?
Him: Neither version surprises me ... if Bunny had a chicken named Miss Cluckins.

Me: I haven't had any stomach cramps today at all.
Him: Mmm.
(three seconds pass)
Me: (in reference to something on tv) Reminds me of Pee-Wee.
Him: What?!
Me: Pee-Wee ... like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure ... like when he was in the dark and it was just his eyes looking around.
Him: Oh!  I thought you were talking about your poop.

*****

Finally, a couple of these.

.

Did you know it was Tuesday?

I didn't. Ewps.

Let's start with one of my favorite times I annoyed the crap out of someone on the Sims 3 fan page. I'd like to say that hilarity ensued, but it was probably only me laughing.

More of this:

I just checked my watch and when I realized I wasn't wearing one, I decided it must be time to plug my Sims story, since the last time I checked my watch, I'm pretty sure I had one. I'll have to look into that. Or, adjust my medication. Either way, if you haven't been here before, please come. According to my doctor, I'm not dangerous to others.

You guys should really learn to clean up after yourselves - I just tripped over this link that was lying right in the middle of the floor. Never mind that I left it there and that it's for the blog where I post my Sims story, which will be updated next week. It's still somehow someone else's fault that I nailed my head on a cabinet not paying attention to where I was walking. So ... just let that be a lesson to you.

If you haven't checked out my Sims story, you really should. The newest chapter will be posted next week, but there is a new non-Sims post today to keep you amused. If you don't like being amused, this is the wrong link to click. Unless you enjoy the righteous indignation of being made to feel something you never wanted to feel in the first place. Then it's just perfect.

I don't have a new Sims update today (that should be next week) but I do have a new non-Sims update up. For those who haven't visited yet, there's a Sims story here that'll blow bubbles in your gum and smack your little brother for messin' with your stuff.

You can't drink a blog link, or a Sims story. I tried, and it's not at all a pleasant experience. Learn from my mistakes, I beg of you. Anyway, I'll have a new Sims chapter next week, but for now, you can have an update that, while not lemonade, can be refreshing if you need to put funny in your eye.


A little more scam spam:

This is something I eat:

This is the card my husband came home with when I asked him to get a graduation card for my cousin:

This is how I made it awesome:

This is your brain on Facebook Ads:

And finally, these are why I always check my junk mail:

Now click a damned button, all of you.

Blog Tapas AGAIN?!

Yes, again ... and you'll be grateful for it, because not everyone has their very own trained blog-monkey to keep their amusement levels within optimum range.

First, I need to say thank-you to one of the sweetest people I've met on the Sims 3 fan page, Chloe. Just before my old laptop decided it was done living, she gifted me every item I had on my Sims 3 Store wish list. I did a little re-decorating at the Rosenzweig home and added five of the nine objects she gave me.

Observe:

Now, let's get down to business and have a chat about scam spam. At first I thought these things were posted by fake accounts, but much to my sighing eyeroll, I've realized that real people think this stuff works and voluntarily spam this crap on walls and fan pages - and these people don't seem to like when you point out that they probably shouldn't be allowed to use the internet unsupervised.

Next, we have the confused and indignant. Yes, they're in a search for information and you will give them the answers they seek without any lip. Forget about the fact that they're on the same internet you are and sometimes can't be troubled with such things as spelling correctly or making sense. Or using Google ... or making sure they're even on the right page. Did I mention they don't want any sass out of you? Good.

Here is a pretty standard example of the type of trolls the Sims 3 fan page attracts:

This ... I can not explain:

If you don't know what's going on below, see if putting your finger in your belly button while staring at this sheds some light on it ... and no, I won't smell your finger.
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You wanna know what this Sims story is? IT'S WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS! So read and follow - or you'll all get the woozies. Think I'm kidding? Try me.

Did you know that reading my Sims story can make you smarter and better looking? Yeah, that's a lie. Read it anyway. It'll protect you from black magic.

It's not a surprise, but it is a Sims story. I wrote it with my own two fingers. The other ones weren't allowed to watch, because they'd been bad. I don't want to talk about it. BUT IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN, WILL IT?

New update, for those who already read my Sims story! For those who haven't even heard of me ... where have you BEEN? We're on part 23 already! Dick Vitale called, he said you're missing the game, baby!

If you've never read my Sims story you've never been in touch with the magic I infuse into every story. I do it for you, kittens. Magic infusion is hard work, and it stains the fingers, and cripples the back. I look like an angry dwarf right now, and even though that has nothing to do with writing these stories, you should still read them.

New update, for those who were desperately waiting! For those who are staring blankly, thinking, "who the eff is that?" I'll tell you. I'm Nico. I'm the answer to your prayers. I write a Sims story so funny that after you read it, you'll wonder if it actually ever existed. Either that, or I'm an egotistical twerp who should have gone to bed an hour ago. Perspectives.

I heard a rumor that I am actually an alien sent from another planet, bent on destroying earth. That's just silly. I would never want to destroy earth, you have such nice chocolates here, and your reality television is unsurpassed on Dirlani 5. Now that I've set your mind at ease, go read my Sims story. It's an inter-galactic good time.

My Sims story is many things, including, but not limited to: laughy, pictureful, sometimes y. Things that my Sims story isn't: corn-flavored, cream-filled, Spanish-speaking, hyphenated, lactose-intolerant, sitting on my knee, a She-wolf, killing me softly. Read and follow, because I said so.

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Last but not least, Facebook ads!