Letters to Strangers

Wondering what I'm barking about?  Direct thine eyes to this.  Here's a letter for my soon-to-be new best friend, Preston.

Click to embiggen.

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While I have you here, I'd like to introduce you to the crown princess of "Aw, come on - what? I can't even." of the Sims 3 fan page on Facebook: Tania.  Allow me to slide this into you slowly.  It's a lot to take.

Now.  Let's do this shit.

Finally, here's a couple of early moments I had with Tania, before the bloom had worn off for me.

Now, because I love you so much, you can have some screen caps I've had laying around awhile.  You know what, how about all of them?  It's a pretty big love. Shh, shh ... just look.

Was it good for you?
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Christmas Cookies!

I just want to be upfront about this and let you all know that I won't be serving cookies.  I am, however, accepting donations of cookies, which I may or may not share.

Rather than waste your time with explanations of why this isn't a Sims Legacy update, something wildly creative, or a new letter to an unsuspecting victi-test subject, I'll jump right into flicking pebbles directly into your eyes.

Scam spam, stale from the Sims 3 fan page:

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The other day, after everyone was in bed, I noticed something different on my fridge.

It's seems my husband had something to say to me, but didn't know how to broach the subject. Exactly what he was trying to say remains a mystery. Naturally, I felt compelled to reply.

I'll admit it - I had a hard time putting my feelings into words.  That night, after everyone was tucked all snuggly-buggly into their beds, I rushed to the kitchen.  He'd responded.

Oh, really? I see how it is. Don't worry, I didn't let him get away with it.

That shut him up. For now.

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Sometimes, people need help. Almost never, I have what they need. Observe:

With that, I bid you adieu. Click something.

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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:

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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.

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Mae I please have your attention?

Ever since my run-in with Mae on the Sims 3 Facebook fan page, people have been sending me screen caps of the extremely vital things she posts there.  They range from the indignant to the passive-aggressive to information only a stalker could love.

Of course it is. *nods*

I've gotta give Amy - The Sims 3 a few internets for holding down the snark fort in my absence.
Thumbs way, way up.

Now, what could our Mae possibly say next?

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The Mae Incident

I hadn't been spending as much time on the Sims 3 fan page as I had in the past, but I had been seeing several of my friends talking about a few people who had been posting often on the page getting on their nerves. In particular there was this girl named Mae, who relentlessly informed the page about every minutiae of her comings and goings, often bidding the group adieu while taking several hours to actually leave.

I wasn't able to screen cap our very first exchange of words, because she deleted it before I realized she had an itchy deletion finger and a raging case of the crazies. But it went a little something like this (my words are nearly verbatim, hers paraphrased sarcastically):

Mae: Hey everyone, I'm not going to be able to be online as long as usual tonight, so I just wanted to leave everyone the link to my page that I spam on this page every day, several times a day, to hold you over until my return.
Me: Why are you so concerned about everyone surviving without your presence?
Mae: Honey, I'm not concerned, I do this every day, just so you know.
Me: You do what every day, sugarcube?

If she replied, I didn't see it, because the entire thing was swiftly deleted. Don't you hate that shit? But she wasn't able to stay away for more than a moment - she posts her page link again:

At this point, Mae blocks me. Unfortunately for her, you can't block pages.  She posts again:

Then, promptly deletes it.  She is not happy at me right now, to say the least.  Another post (I've edited out a few replies here and there from other Sims 3 fans, for the sake of brevity) where Mae dictates how we're all to behave:

Boom. Also quickly deleted. Mae clearly has some control issues, and can not properly say goodbye unless and until it is done entirely on her terms. She posts thrice more:

I couldn't resist. I'm only human. If you were there, you'd almost swear you could actually hear the cogs and gears of her mind sproing right out the top her head. Again, the post disappears. She quickly posts this non-sequitur on someone else's wall post, then posts her own plea to the rest of the Sims 3 fans to protect her from me:

What follows are some of the responses to that plea, along with Mae's insistence that I'm harassing her to within an inch of her sanity and needs everyone else to help her report my page (click to enlarge):

Meanwhile, the last thing I've said to her is "sleep well". At this point, I go to bed - but according to Mae, I'm still working a dastardly plan:

That's it, in a giant rolling nutball.
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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!