As it turns out, I'm really stupid

I really like my shampoo and conditioner. They're made by "YES to Carrots". It smells nice, so even though it makes my hair turn into a fluffy disaster, I still use it. Well they make other products too. This is fine, except that apparently I cannot read basic English, rendering me feeling dumber than usual. What am I talking about, you ask? I found another product in the store made by the excited carrot people. I smelled it, and since I liked the smell, it's all that mattered. For a week, I rubbed this fine smelling goop all over my body after I showered, and even on my face last night before I went sleeping. Every day, when I had my shower, I kept thinking, "My legs are so slippery, and I haven't even used soap yet. Huh..." But today, while I was in the bathroom again, I stopped, out of sheer boredom, to read the back of the tube, you know, in case I didn't understand how to use lotion. The back says "Wet face. Massage in a bit of product and rinse. It's not rocket science, but it is mighty awesome". Well thank goodness I'm not a rocket scientist, although I do pride myself on my ability to read and interpret basic English. Anyway, I was confused by the directions on the back, because, as I recall, one puts lotion on dry skin, and then doesn't rinse it off. In a moment of lost perplexity, I turned the tube around and read the LARGE orange title that says "Daily Cream Facial Cleanser". CLEANSER, stupid, not LOTION. So I've been rubbing facial cleanser all over my face and body, and then not rinsing it off until my next day's shower. I'm mildly embarrassed but, at least I bathe.

Another funny that happened this week happened as a sort of conversation triangle between my parents and me. I called my mom to tell her that I thought of a great birthday present for my dad, who turns a nice age this year that's a multiple of 5. I think he might read this blog so I'm not gonna say what it is. We have the same birthday, (every year), and so when I start thinking about my birthday, I also start thinking about his. This year I'm going to make him something that's really special and really fitting for him. I told my mom what it was. She seemed mostly uninterested, but I think that's because the Bachelorette was on, and not because my idea sucks. Then a few days later, I told my dad that I was making him something really special for his birthday, and that he'd really love it. Not one to be kept out of a secret loop, he called my mom. He said, "So Mischief told me that she was going to make me something for my birthday, and that it's special and that I'd love it. This may be way out of left field, but... is she pregnant?" No, no I am not pregnant. And I'd like to think that my dad knows that I wouldn't come waddling in 8 months pregnant at the time of our birthday, and be like "Surprise... I'm knocked up and really wanted to tell you, but I just thought this secret would be so fun." But if I were pregnant, I'd name it one of the names from my previous blog, about idiot parents naming their kids idiot names.


In the spirit of Christmas, I got into some online fight banter with some people on Pinterest. People will not stop posting photos of Jesus quotes, God quotes, (since Jesus and God are both talking directly to them), and quotes about how amazing their faith is. Last time I checked, faith was personal, and should not be taken to the shove-it-in-everyone's-face level a la Kim Kardashian and her stupid face/voice/ideas/clothes/wedding/divorce/crying/pathetic attempts to stay in the spotlight. Anyway, I made some people mad. Oops. My comment was based on the following photo:

We are allowed to comment on these photos, and I simply said "He did not die for my sins". I wrote this not to stir the pot, so to speak, but because I'm sick of religious quotes popping up when I'm trying to design my dream treehouse or pick out the perfect do-it-yourself craft that I'll never actually accomplish. So, with my simple and non-threatening comment, I received a lot of backlash. I was called ignorant, lost, and stupid. I argued my case, all the while being inundated with people telling me that the gates of heaven await me, and that to get there, I need to accept Jesus as my savior, and that I can't possibly be leading a fulfilling life without him. But I DO have a fulfilling life. It's friday night at 10:31, and I'm already in my bathrobe. I bowled two games tonight, had some beers, and now I'm in the dark next to my cat who may or may not be in a coma. No, he's not. I just woke him up. He's lucid. My life is very full. I like to drink alcohol and be loud. I go to school and talk to sick people. I drive my car. I eat lunch. I like garlic. I bought a new yoga mat. I will clean my bathroom tomorrow. I read a news article on transgender children today. I made cookies. I made a to do list today and accomplished everything on it except for going to the bank. I remembered to wash my hands after bowling. I went to the doctor today. I successfully ordered from a restaurant. My life is VERY full. What the hell are these people talking about? Here's some of the kind words and related crap I heard from others:



Oh, let me remind you, all I said was "He didn't die for my sins...."


Ashley Blair-Hansen: Shut up if you don't agree then font comment. None of us are going to care about your ignorant answer to this picture so MOVE ALONG!!!

Nicely said, Ashley. How very Christian of you. What's a font comment? Was this picture a question? ASS. 

Lisa Durant: He did die for your sins. You also have the free will to accept his gift of salvation. I will pray that when you die (because you will) you will have accepted his gift so that you may spend eternity in Heaven with Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior. Hope to be your future Sister in Christ!!!!

No, I already said he didn't die for my sins. And thanks for putting in parentheses that I'm going to die. I hadn't considered that before. Sister in Christ? What is that?


Me: Yeah, I'm Jewish, so no, Jesus didn't die for my sins. To the person who said "Shut up", that's a real Christian thing to do.... just because I don't agree. I didn't say anything bad about Jesus, just that he didn't die for me. And I wonder why I'm happy NOT being a Christian. Oh and PLEASE don't pray for me. My life is filled with abundance and happiness without needing to reach anywhere except from within to find my own strength. I choose not to believe, based on my religion, which doesn't not ascribe to Jesus, and also because I'm happy the way I am. I'm a good, decent human, and just because I don't believe in Jesus doesn't mean I'm lost. And calling me ignorant really does you a disservice, Ashley, as you have absolutely no idea who I am or what I stand for. YOUR point is based on ignorance.

Good job, Mischief!

Shayle Figueroa: Amen! God is the reason I am alive, and He has blessed me with an amazing life! Without God leading our lives, we will fail miserably! God is good all the time! Thank you God for sending your Son to die on the cross for our sins so that we may be saved! :)

OHHHHHHHHHH, now I realized I'm such a failure. Womp womp. 

Amber Weeks: He gives us a 'choice' to love Him, live for Him and live a life complimentary to His kindness .... one thing Jesus can't do is make you love Him. He can only pull at your heart or give you moments to surrender to His unfailing love ... He is Savior, who never lets you down, who loves you when no one else will ... Religion is of man. Jesus is Son of God. Like with any relationship, we can't force anyone to love us, like wise with Jesus, He can't force you to love and accept Him. But someday, every knee will bow at His thrown. It is just something to think about ... He is my Savior. He lives. He speaks. He protects. He loves. He is gentle. He disciplines me. He is my Jesus. He could be yours too ... In the end, it is not what the 'world' believes but it is what is written in the Word ... Jesus is Lord, call upon Him and you will be saved. ..... your choice, but you will live with it for eternity. I am a Christian but by no means shove anything down anyones throats .. I just simply put it, its your choice, you have to live and die with it.

He's your savior? Okay, fine. That's cool. He lives, he speaks? No. He's dead. And if he's speaking to you, and you hear voices in your head, I suggest you see a doctor. Jesus could be mine too? Well, herpes could be mine if I wanted it too, but I don't. And if he lives, where the fuck is he? Is he playing a round of golf or maybe dining in a vegan restaurant? Is he fly fishing in Idaho, or possibly gambling in Atlantic City? Maybe he's at a gay pride parade. Wouldn't that be rad?


So that's how I've been spending some hours... dealing with people who think I'm in idiot for being a Jewish person. There were a LOT more posts, and I made even more amazing points, so don't worry. And they think I'm an idiot... I mean, sure, I'm an idiot, but not because Jesus and I aren't besties. It's because I have the mind of a 5-year-old parrot, and I don't feel the need to have religion guide me around like a blind gopher. So yeah... maybe I stirred the pot, and maybe I did it because I'm really bored, but I think I got my point across and I'm hoping that the next time I get myself into a predicament such as this one, I'll be more of an asshole and really piss some people off. That said, I got a lot of encouraging and nice comments from folks like me. A few of them suggested I drink to ward off the judgment cape that was put on me. And I did just that. I had 3 cups of beer while I bowled one of the worst games of my life, and I feel much better. (Click photo if it's too small for your soggy eyes).

Joseph definitely has some balls.

I'm fine with religion, but please, don't shove it down my throat. This isn't an intubation.


And now: Things I like...

I hope this onion is named Dexter.

Mischief also hates pushups. 

Right? 

T-rex never gets old

30% of CNN.com readers think it's okay to let child molesters go free if they haven't been prosecuted within 5 years? Well, that's fucked up. 

Riveting news. That kid's a dick. 

I know I said last time that my next post, (this one), would be about something else, but I forgot what that something else is, and I'm too lazy to look. Maybe I'll look sometime soon and keep my promise to write about whatever it was.


Happy birthday, Jesus. Love, Jewface.

How do you know when you've hit "rock bottom"?

Yes. Truth. Evil exam period is over. My entire cohort, all 32 of us, seem to be genuinely dissatisfied with the leadership and teaching issues that ensued over the course of the term. I can be argumentative, and angry and have my thumb up my butt about it, but honestly, I don't have the energy. True, the whole school could use a complete makeover as far as the program is considered, but all the complaining in the world hasn't changed anything yet, so what's next? Hostage situation?

I didn't do a single thing today. I finally showered around 7:45... PM, and put my scrub bottoms and pj top on for a night in with Toddlers and Tiaras. The show is shit. I know this. But I'm from the south, and this show makes me the opposite of homesick.... homewell! And I walk away being prouder 'n hell about bein' from the great state 'o Georgia. DISCLAIMER: I'm a Jewish person, so I'm automatically exempt from the "redneck" category. Plus I went to hippie school and have a mother with dreadlocks and a father who's a Buddhist aromatherapy nerd... although he does drive a Ford F150 (for the dogs...). Anyway, back to the fact that I did nothing today. I made a protein pumpkin smoothie which was awesome. I made juice in my juicer, which was decent. I made soup that sucks because I was too lazy to make it good, and I had some potatoes with sour cream. I love sour cream. I'm really on a kick.

Speaking of hitting rock bottom, the GOP race is really heating up. Herman Cain appears to have really blown off his own balls by having some affairs and sexually harassing every woman he's ever worked with. But if he has any redeeming qualities, I guess I can assume he makes a good pizza. Rick Perry just seems wasted all the time, and apparently thinks that liberals lack morals. Michelle Bachman looks like a sociopath and is possibly scarier than Sarah Palin. She also has a husband, Marcus, who is the GAYEST "straight" man ever, and he's made it his life mission from God to convert all the homosexuals living in sin to a life of heterosexuality and constant erectile dysfunction. Newt Gingrich is a raging douce bag, Ron Paul is.... pointless, and Mitt Romney is a pussy. I saw this today, and after I was done laughing, I posted it up for my friends to see. If this boner becomes president, I'm moving to Australia, and taking Meatball with me, for good measure and protection from the sun.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=0PAJNntoRgA

WHAT A DICK.

My dishwasher is still working, in case anyone was worried about that. No dishes have gone back to my bathtub, and there's no lake on my kitchen floor.

Now that school's over for 5 weeks, I can concentrate on the little things that I've been passing up.

1. Laundry
2. Clean car
3. Before doing laundry, smelling all clothes in the pile because I mixed the dirty and the clean.
4. Catch up on Dexter. We are only 8 episodes behind. No biggie.
5. Leisure read. First book: Everyone Poops by Taro Gomi.
6. Exercise. Yoga, walking, gym. Dancing while a little buzzed?


....Several days later:

I completed laundry, cleaning of car, (sort of... I removed all the garbage and my scrubs that were in there for 2 months, and also several empty cans of coconut water), smelled my clothes before I did the laundry, and have exercised LOTS. I caught up just a little on Dexter, and have yet to get through "Everyone Poops", although I've located the book, which was half the battle. I've been to yoga the last 5 days. I can honestly say that I'm the LEAST flexible person in every class, and that I'm suddenly having difficulty deciphering my left from my right. "Bend forward and press your right palm into your left leg while you bend 90 degrees". I hear "bend forward and press your left palm into your right leg while you bend 90 degrees." Does this make me dyslexic?

Why, you ask, has it taken me a week to come back to this post? Because I found Pinterest. If you don't know what it is, don't seek it out. It will eat your hours away. I have an account with them, and basically you can find photos of crap you like and then "pin it" into one of your boards and the photo automatically links to the page of origination. I tried, in much greater detail, to describe it to my mom, and she has no idea what I was talking about. Anyway, I have a board specifically dedicated to forts and tree houses. Tree houses and forts are among the greatest things on earth. If I could, I'd live in a tree house with a fort on the inside. I also have a board about craft ideas. Inspired to actually do something with my life, I decided to perform a task that I found on Pinterest. While searching through "natural hair care", I found a recipe for moisturizing hair. A few egg yolks and half an avocado. Here's a lesson: When you're washing eggs out of your hair like any sain person, do not wash it out with hot water. Why? Because it scrambles the eggs.

Here are some photos I like.

Another day, while on Pinterest, I found this. I adore it. There is nothing more pleasing than watching this girl's face morph into this: I've never said it before, and I'll likely never say it again, but thanks, MTV.

The following were not found on Pinterest. 

I have many leather-bound books, all of which were made out of this guy's face. The man is Billy Graham, one of America's resident assholes. Also, I love his multi-colored teeth.

Sexual harassment shouldn't really be a qualifier as a political "next step". I hope they make a movie outta this guy, and I hope he's played by Mike Tyson. Also, if your eyes are shit, just click on the photo. I'll get bigger for you. 

New subject: This segment is called:

STUPID SHIT I'VE BEEN GOOGLING LATELY


I went back and looked at my online history, and here's a sampling of what I've been looking up.

 Yes, Tab still exists, but not in America. It's called "Tab" because it's a diet drink that helps you keep tabs on your weight.

It's this guy.

I have no idea how the military works, and about 2 minutes into my investigation, I learned that it was too much work to spend time attempting to understand it. 

Well, frogs and toads are different in several ways. Frogs lay eggs in clumps, while toads lay in lines. Frogs are skinnier and toads are fatter. Frogs have smooth, slimy skin, and toads have drier, lumpier skin. Frogs have longer legs and webbed feet. Toads are smelly and apparently taste bad, which wards of hungry predators like me. Toads walk wherever they go on land, while frogs hop. And according to a highly un-reputable site, "True frogs are the species of frogs that most people think of as frogs and not toads. True toads are what people think of as toads and not frogs." WHAT?

Yeah, dogs do see in color, but they aren't as bright or vivid. They have less light receptors in the eyes than humans do. So they are really just color blind and are not,  in fact, black-and-white-sighted. 

I didn't find out any information this. So, no??? 

Why not? Because donkeys have 62 chromosomes, and horses have 64 chromosomes. A mule gets 32 chromosomes from mom horse, and 31 chromosomes from dad donkey, giving it 63 chromosomes. So there is an extra chromosome from horse mom that doesn't have a match. This means that during the time the egg and sperm meet to make a baby, that baby doesn't get any sex cells made because of the extra chromosome. This extra chromosome is no problem for the mule, really. It cannot reproduce, but that's the only known issue it has. Having an extra chromosome in people can be lethal, but since mules aren't people, we can't apply the same rules. Also, a mule is made when a female horse is knocked up by a male donkey. When a male horse knocks up a female donkey, the baby is called a hinny. This is because someone smart person combined the name Jinny, which is what female donkey is called, with the word horse, and they got hinny. 

Or maybe God just made mules and hinnys that way.... 

And I just like this one

Next time, I'll be displaying some of the amazing facebook posts I've received over the years. They really highlight all that is right in the world. 

Bathtub is the new sink

It appears I've hit rock bottom. My dishwasher is leaking, therefore I cannot use it unless I'd like a pond on my kitchen floor. Generally this wouldn't be a major blow to my style, but right now, it is. I have about, oh, 2 full dishwashers worth of dishes, most of it caked on so hard that not even my highly toned biceps can cut through it. But my sinks aren't very big. In an effort to procrastinate studying for my exams as long as possible, I decided to tackle the mess head on. Since the sun now goes down before 5 pm, I go into hibernation mode around 4:41 and stay in said mode until about 11 am the next day, schedule permitting. So I dragged my lazy ass into the kitchen to take a looksie at this stupidly large task in front of me. This week I made two soups, and two apple crisps, and had several sandwiches and plates that allowed me to eat lots of low fat sour cream. Needless to say, the dishes are mounting. I'm capable of doing a rational amount of dishes, but having about 55 different dishes was a task I was unwilling to perform. My solution: Bathtub.

That's right. All my dishes are in the tub with an ample amount of Seventh Generation eco-friendly suds. I thought this was a brilliant idea when it first popped into my head. As I filled the tub with cruddy dishes, I realized a few things:

1. The crud on my dishes is going to clog my drain.
2. My drain is already clogged because I despise cleaning it, and I have long hair. There's really nothing grosser to me in the domestic world than removing hair from a drain. I can handle bodily fluids and weird smells in the hospital setting, but not in my bathroom.
3. My bathtub is dirty, which inherently means my dishes will remain dirty.
4. Now that I've realized my tub is dirty, I now have to let all the dishes soak in there, then re-wash them once I'm satisfied that the crud is off of them, and is stuck in my drain.
5. I have reached the epitome of laziness.
6. I still have a leaky dishwasher.
7. I wanna grow up to be like Betty White, but maybe a black version of her.

2 days later:

So my contractor came to the house to check out what was wrong with the dishwasher. Suddenly, while he's here, it works. No leaks. Yippy. It turns out that putting the dishes in the tub has served no purpose, other than to use it as a holding spot until the dishwasher works again. I had planned on doing them myself, but I have final exams and also a few hangovers, and the lazy factor has spiked. So the dishes, which have been in my tub for 3 days, will be magically cleaned by the loud box in the kitchen, and the only real work I have to do is schlep them from the tub to the big noisy box.

Here is the a photo journal of "Dishes in the Tub"

Dirty Dishes waiting for tub

More dirty

Solution after deep thoughts

An hour later

A day later

2 days later

And the dishwasher now works, and my dishes are still in the tub. The end. 

This is where I decided to get undressed last night.

This is a video of my really beautiful Meatball looking really ugly. Also, my favorite woman in the world's voice is in the background. All hail Elaine Benes. Wait, my mom is my favorite woman in the world. Elaine's number 2.

This is my cat. Her name is Little Dude. She likes studying Traumatic Brain Injuries, (TBI) as much as I do. More like TMI. She also likes awkward nap positions

This is my other cat. His name is Zion. He's a philosopher.

This is the best tattoo I've ever seen.

These are instructions my school has put in each bathroom stall above the toilet at the gym. Totally necessary.

This is my car.

This is a photograph of a photograph of a girl my best friends and I call "Vanilla Cupcake". This one's for you V and A.

Family is a four letter word

I went home for a family wedding this weekend. My Chinese/Native American/Mexican/Swedish cousin married a lovely man from Guinea, Africa. I hope they have children as soon as possible, and I also hope they'll let me name it. If it's a boy, then it will be named after his father, which I'm assuming is tradition. If it's a girl, this is when I'll put in my two cents. Since she'll be like... quad-racial or something, she will need a name that really captures all of her essence. The name I've come up with for her is: Dao-ming (shining path) Hantaywee (cedar tree) Espiridiana (basket maker) Hedvig (female warrior) Adio (born on a Monday). Should she be born on a Tuesday, then her 5th name would be Adowa, but we'll get to that later. So translated, her name would be: Dao-ming Hantaywee Espiridiana Hedvig Adio/Adowa, and it would  mean: Shining Path Cedar Tree Basket Maker Female Warrior Born on a Monday (or Tuesday). I think that flows nicely. So to my cousin and her new husband, CONGRATS, and thanks for letting me name your child.

While I was looking up the meaning of names, and trying to come up with one that would emulate how perfect this child would be, I stumbled upon some other options for parents to help themselves name their children. In case these parents have no imagination, and are somehow over the names Aiden, Aaden, Aidyn, Jayden, Jaiden, Jaden, Caden, Kayden, Kaiden, Drayden, Brayden, Braedyn, Braydin, Jaxson, Jayelle, Jaylee, Braylynn, Brynlee, Brynley, Briley, Brooklyn, Kaylee, or any other name you might see on Toddlers and Tiara's, then this extra help might come in handy. Some helpful categories include: Calendar names, Superhero names, Harry Potter names, Earthy names, Celebrity Baby names, (gets my vote for worst category), Colors, Comedian names, Fun names, Cool names, Cowboy names, Cowgirl names, Tolkien character names, War Hero names, Twilight names, Trendy names, Sports names, Soap Opera names (gets my vote for best category), Real Celebrity names, Preppy names, Places, Pioneer names, Pirate names, Occupational names, Disney names, Cute names, Holiday names, Movie Star names, and Numbers.

Now, I have not had a child, but I've had the opportunity to name a pet or two. I thought, "is this pet going to get made fun of at the playground in second grade because of its name?" "Are teachers going to hate me because I spelled my kid's name 'Madissyn' instead of 'Madison' or 'Neveah' instead of 'Heaven' because you totally wanted to be clever?" I've spent some time with little kiddos, and here are just some of the names I've encountered:
Lily and Paisley for twins. You have a flower, and a flower print.
Semaj: It's just James spelled backwards.
Krystalynn: Sounds like something you might illegally cook and then smoke in your basement.
Nichael: Because the M may have been one angular line too many.
Sierra and Sienna: Twins. No.

I have also heard of people naming twins "Aiden" and "Nadia" Reverse the names and boom, you've outdone yourself. There's also Hope and Faith, Mia and Mya, London and Paris, Faith and Grace, Chloe and Zoe, Jada and Jade, Serenity and Trinity, Heaven and Neveah, Taylor and Tyler, Jayda and Jayden, Brian and Brianna, Oliver and Olivia, Jayla and Jaylen, Jayden and Jaylen, Isaac and Isaiah, Joseph and Joshua, and Arianna and Brianna. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE PARENTS?! Many of these names are not inherently bad... (Neveah, Jayden, and Serenity are among the worst.) I'm even named one of the names on this Twins List, although I'm not super stoked on it. Sorry mom, and dad. I know you tried. And I appreciate you not naming me Brittany or Tiffany or Briella. Anyway, back to twins. Pairing one name for a twin with another name for the other twin that is almost the exact same makes parents look irresponsible and lazy. It's like "Hey, we came up with one name, and then thought about it from a slightly different angle, and went with that one too." Good job.

And then there are the folks that have a zillion kids, and ALLLLL of them start with the same letter. Take the Duggar's for instance. We have noble and hair-sprayed patriarch: Jim Bob. He's no rocket scientist, but he knows how to keep his hair in its own self-contained helmut. His wife, Michelle, is the only outcast in the family whose name does NOT start with the letter J. And then we have the following 19 little people they created. Oh, and there is a 20th on the way. If they don't name it with a J-name, then there is no God. So here we go. They have Joshua, Jana, John David, Jill, Jessa, Jinger, (whyyyy????), Joseph, Josiah, Joy-Anna, Jedediah, Jeremiah, Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah, Jennifer, Jordyn-Grace and Josie. If I may suggest a name for the 20th J-baby, I suggest "Jose" or "Juan" or "Jeffrey" or "JAYDEN!!!!". The oldest, Josh, is married and has two kids. They have Mackenzie and Michael. I hope the "M" names go on for the next 18 kids... or 19 if they wanna outdo their parents. I've also seen specials on TV with parents who have quintuplets or some insane amount of kids with the same birthday. This one family has quints and the girls are Kendall, Kaydence and Kassidy. Pay no mind of the fact that two of these names inherently begin with a "C". Then there are the Gosselin kids. The girls are Alexis Faith, Hannah Joy and Leah Hope. I'm glad they crammed, Hope, Faith and Joy in there!

That ends my name rant. Well, no. I have one more. When I was born, back in the early 80's, my name wasn't even in the top 200 names. Now it's 4th. Great. And damn you, Shakespeare....

Moving on. I stumbled across this gem earlier today while perusing the news on CNN. Great journalism here, but hey, at least it's not Fox News.

I was so pleased with this article. Not only did it make me laugh, but I now know what to do in case I accidentally eat dog poop. That reminds me of this time when I was a child... an age that I don't remember, as I was potty trained before I could form long-term memories, (crappy hippocampus), but still enjoy this story. Somewhere around the age of 2 - 2.5, I was super stoked that I made bears in the toilet, so apparently I ran to grab my mom to show her this creation and exclaimed: "LOOK MOMMY!!! A BIG DOG POO!" At that young age, I equated myself to a dog, and that probably led me to believe that it was okay to poop where I wanted, and even more importantly, it was totally kosher to barf wherever I wanted. I was a toilet phobic kid.... still am, and a barf phobic kid... still am. According to my mother, every time I would get barfy, I'd take off naked all over the house, hauling ass like the grim reaper was after me. I'd pause, barf, and run. Pause, barf and run. Repeat. Fast forward a decade. Food poisoning in a hotel bathroom in Israel. Why barf in the toilet when there's a perfectly good floor next to it? Fast forward 6 years. Drive and barf. Same concept as run and barf, but with a license. Fast forward 4 years. New Years Day 2006. Sit in parents bathroom and barf in trashcan. I'd never taken the garbage out from my parents' bathroom before, but I figured this was a good time to start. My dad asked "Why are you taking the garbage out?" I explained that I yarfed in the can, and my mom replies "Well, you shouldn't have had so much to drink last night, don't ya think?" Thanks, mom. It was 8:30 at night by that point, and it hadn't yet dawned on me that this happy-new-year barfathon was triggered by some poor life choices from the last moments of 2005. 

And lastly, when I was 3, my parents had some guests over, and I believe my sweet paternal grandparents were there too. I was sitting my duff on the floor, being cute, and then I tugged on a man's pant leg and yelled: "DO YOU HAVE A PENIS?!?!?!" A little curiosity doesn't hurt, and at least I knew what to expect the first time I encountered one at age 23. 

I mentioned poor life choices earlier with the new years boozathon followed by new years day barfathon... so to keep in line with making bad life choices, this little photo illustrates just how poor I think the choices are for the GOP race. (See how seamless that transition was? Barf talk turns to male anatomy talk, turns to GOP douchebaggery talk.) Naturally, as a life-long-liberal, I detest them all, but this photo sums it up nicely. 

And by the way, if I had to choose, I'd take Gonorrhea, and then probably Ron Paul... but definitely Gonorrhea first. 

And I wanted to share this photo too. I like it. It's how I operate. If I were to be murdered, I'd want a full bladder anyway. There'd be more for the killer to clean up, and maybe he'd even get a case of Gonorrhea, or even worse, a case of Ron Paul... or WORSE: Rick Santorum. 

If you're not bored already...

Here's a small list of things that have happened recently:

-I spilled enchilada sauce on my computer at 2:30 am.
-My cat barfed in my running shoe. That is precisely how a cat says "fuck you".
-I got impregnated by Justin Bieber at one of his shows in a backstage bathroom. Abstinent my ass.
-I stabbed myself in the hand with the IV line I had just pulled out of my cat. I hope I don't get feline AIDS.
-I cried in a bookstore while I just happened to be in the self-help section. (Crying and location unrelated)
-I fell asleep while cooking chicken soup. I was awakened hours later by the smoke alarm. That was a refreshing smell to encounter for the following 4 days.
-I accidentally wrote "Raped" instead of "Rapid" in a post that went out to my whole class. "Raped Interpretation of EKG's!" Regardless of raped or rapid readings, EKG's make me feel stupid.
-I cheerfully got into a conversation with two very nice people while walking Meatball and discussed cats and dogs, and then they tried to convince me to follow their path as a Jehovah's Witness. Apparently, telling someone you're essentially an atheist Jew just fuels their proselytizing mission. I wanted to say "Listen, people. I'm a booze drinking, compulsive curse word using, sarcastic, Jewish 28 year old who has better things to do than wander door-to-door with books "From God" on weekend mornings. If you wanna come to my house on a Saturday, I'll make sure I answer the door not wearing any pants, PBR in hand with a straw in the top for my convenience. Oh, and thanks for seamlessly transitioning the conversation from fluffy dog to that pamphlet that will change my life that you happen to have in your purse. Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I have sinned about 34 times already today, and I don't feel like apologizing for any of it." Instead, I wasn't a dick, and I felt good about that.
-A flight attendant on a 6 hour Delta flight sang part of "Shoop" over the intercom.
-I started a blog.
-Meatball decided to have a cat turd snack on my bed.
-Kim Kardashian got divorced, which has me in total shock, and I'm sad.
-I realized I like coconut water. Turns out it's helpful after drinking something else I like: champagne.
-I declared I was having "sober November" and made it all the way to November 5th.
-I watched a G-tube get placed so nutrition can go directly to the stomach, bypassing the mouth and esophagus. This procedure is for sick people, not lazy people.
-I bought my first bag of turkey meatballs.
-I made a "workout log". It asks "How did you feel after your workout?" My response on the first day was "Tired, hungry, nap time?" I'm a 6 year old.

I promise my next post won't just be about me. Right now, I'm in a selfish phase and kind of dumbed down from excessive reading and note-taking. I fly home for a family wedding next week (!!!!!!), so I'll have about 11 hours total on a plane over the weekend to come up with something a little less likely to cause you to slip into a vegetative state. Until then, bye.

The Greta Feinburg Assault

In July 2009, I decided I needed to play a prank. My best friend, we'll call her "Debbie", was down. I thought a bit about how I could cheer her up, and then she accidentally and without knowledge slapped me in the face with a brilliant idea. She posted an ad on craigslist hoping to sell a dresser because she was moving. She put the information up on her gmail account, so I saw it and looked at it. I didn't need a dresser, but I did need to completely fuck with her day... so I did. My real name is not Greta, thank goodness, and the email address, "ticklemekitten@gmail.com" was made up for the sole purpose of this creepy prank. Here's how it played out: 


I will be this color, and she will be this other color


Hi. I saw your ad for your dresser on craigslist, and I'm interested in hearing more about it. 

How did you acquire this dresser, and what on earth is making you want to sell this lovely piece of art?

I have some ideas regarding its possible use, and it just might be the perfect fit for my 1930's vintage furniture obsession. 

Thanks, and I hope to hear from you. I'm a paraplegic, so I am often on my computer. Cheers. - Greta

Hi, Greta

Thanks for your interest. I bought the dresser last year from a man whose mother had passed. He was selling much of the furniture from her estate and I happened upon this beautiful piece. 

I am selling it because it just won't fit into the apartment I am about to move into. I am pretty sad about giving it up, actually. I love the dresser. I might have mentioned in the Craigslist Ad but it reminds me of a treasure chest. It is really special and I'm sure has tons of history that I'm not even aware of. 

I would love to see it go to a good home, so let me know if you are interested in buying it. Out of curiosity, what would you use it for?  

Hope you have a nice one, 

"Debbie"

Thank you, "Debbie". What a beautiful name. How authentic and unique. 

Well, I have a few ideas about how I could make use of this furniture. I have a rather large collection of kitten calendars that need to be stored. I love kittens, and I would hate to get rid of them. 

I'm also an active member of the BDSM community, and I like to host parties. As a person without leg usage, you can imagine that I'm submissive. But not always. I like to dominate from my rascal scooter. I have some medieval whips and chains that needs some storing, as well as my swing. It would be great to disguise my collection in the dresser since I have a roommate who is a practicing christian and does not approve of BDSM, and does not know about it. 

I am also interested in the mirror function, and would be interested to see how the detailing in the mirror shapes my body. You say it reminds you of a treasure chest? I'd like to put some of my treasures in that chest. I also have a large pornography collection. My roommate does not appreciate my porn fetishes, so hiding it is a must. Currently, all my toys, lube, and plastic devices are hidden in her extra closet, and I think it's time to move them.

Would you be interested in helping me move it? I have a large 3 story apartment, and an elevator, so it could be easy. My paraplegia, which was caused from a fall out of a sex swing at a swingers party, makes it hard for me to do many activities, and my rascal scooter just won't do.

I figured I would be honest with you and tell you about my intent to use the dresser. Even if you're not interested in selling it to me, I'd love to hear back from you, just so I have some peace of mind. Cheers. - Greta

Greta

Wow, that was a lot more information than I needed. I'm just trying to sell a dresser. You are entitled to do whatever you like in the privacy of your own home and I don't judge you for any of it but was it really necessary to divulge such details to a stranger? I don't think drawers stuffed with kitten calenders, African Porno and whips is the fate I imagined for this dresser but really the issue is that I cannot help you move it. Sorry. I don't have a truck. But, since you like kittens, please enjoy the attached photo of my cat, "Dinosaur". 

Enjoy yourself, Greta, and be careful in your swing! 

"Debbie"

"Debbie" attached her photo of her cat, who I've met many times, and am friends with. 

"Debbie", I appreciate your honesty. My lifestyle is unique, and I understand it's not the destiny you had in mind for your pretty dresser. "Dinosaur" is cute. I would like a "Dinosaur" calendar, and then maybe rub some lube on his fur and take him with me to watch in my kink adventures. I'd send you a photo of me, but I have a feeling you already know what I look like. Cheers. - Greta



I sent a follow-up email a little bit later with a that just said "ENJOY!!!!!". I included photo of me. It was a photo of me making out with a bubble machine in the shape of a hippo. I'd post it, but then you'd see my stupid face, and my anonymity would forever be shattered. 

While all of this was going on, "Debbie" was chatting with her mother and sending her mom the emails. At one point, "Debbie" called me to tell me how freaked out she was about the whole thing, and forwarded me all the messages. Not only did "Debbie" email her mother and call me, but her mother emailed EVERYONE SHE WORKS WITH a copy of the email chain. Again, they didn't know it was me until the very last email. The whole thing took about 2 hours, and then "Debbie" called me in hysterical happy tears and said, "Fuck you, Mischief! My ribs hurt from laughing!" It was amazing. 


Side note: This "Debbie" is still my best friend, and sometimes we talk about Greta as if she's real. There's bound to be a paraplegic Jew living in NYC who has a kitten obsession and likes BDSM. 


Now, I have to give credit where credit is due. My friend, "Cheryl", was also there with me, and was somewhat helpful in mastering this slew of emails. So there, "Cheryl"! You have your shout out and now everyone will know that you helped. Also, me and "Debbie" have a best friend named "Carlos" and he was kind of in on it too. But I'm gonna take most of the credit because I'm an asshole and I was the brains behind this awesome operation. 

Please stop LOLing

The title of today's rant has been inspired by the insipid and obnoxious use, misuse, and overuse of the acronym "LOL". To be frank, I hate it. I don't even hate Glenn Beck as much as I hate "LOL". I cringe at the sight of it... also cringe at the sight of Glenn Beck.

Almost as bad as "LOL"

Anyway, I have taken some examples of thoughtless and irreverent "LOLing" from the internets, and will pick said examples apart and destroy them.

Item 1: Person A: "You should have stopped by! I was there! lol"

Person B: "Well, I need to figure out how to find you so I can come visit you lol."

Okay, first of all, this conversation is not at all funny. Nothing about this is funny. I'm not even cracking a smidge of a smile, and you know what... the people writing this weren't either. Person B has left out the period between "you" and "lol" altogether, thus making it grammatically awful too.

"Hahaha! I side with Don here. Video games are so much better than football. Lol." You already said "Hahaha", which essentially tells your reader you're laughing like a lunatic, so the "LOL" is extraneous and perhaps implies that your reader doesn't understand the meaning of "Hahaha!".

"We got about 18 inches or maybe 2 feet... a wicked lot of snow. LOL." I mean, I guess this is fine since snow is absolutely hysterical.

Item 2: The MAN use of "LOL". Now, I love an effeminate man just as much as the next non-homophobic person, but there's essentially nothing less manly than when a dude types "lol". I mean, where does it fit? "Hey, Gene. I'm just writing you this text to let you know I hit 240 lbs on the leg press yesterday. I love our gym bromance. LOL" Or "Mitch, can you pick me up a latte at Starbucks? I left my debt card in my running shorts, and the wife won't bring it to me. LOL" Stop it, men.

Item 3: This isn't an item, but an example just how jaded I happen to be. My friend texted me the other day while sick and said "I'm an ugly fuck in a sweatsuit." When I read this text, I LAUGHED OUT LOUD!!! I wrote a text back saying "That made me hysterically laugh." LOL WOULD have been appropriate at that moment, because I was laughing, and it was noisy, but I refused to abbreviate. LOL means nothing to me. You could just thrust it into any written conversation. It's like hearing someone snore, or watching a GOP debate. It's useless and doesn't help anyone.

There will be a post one day, (probably soon), that discusses the disdain, resentment and misery I feel when people can't spell "you're" and "your". I'm not sure I have the energy for it now, so it'll have to wait. But while we're on the subject of grammar and things, I'll share this. It's fantastic!

Now, as a follow up to my first blog, I'd like to mention the fact that my parents read it. I had some sort of massive brain failure while I was on the phone with my mom, and I told her about it. The whole concept confused my dad. First, I tried telling my mother, who is BEYOND inept at computers, how to find the site. She googles "mischief and the meatball" not knowing that she could just type in the URL. She doesn't know what a URL is so I spared myself the agony of explaining it from 2,597 miles away. A few examples of what she found are:

1. Mischief managed minus powerpuff girls movie plus meatball sub?

2. Gluten free mischief: Mama's meatballs and fettucini.

Number 2 sounds pretty good. Maybe I'll check that out.

My dad was in the background, and apparently does not know what a blog is. I can hear him saying, "She has a blog? I don't understand." What's not to understand? Then, as my mother is reading it out loud to him... and me over the phone, I hear him say "My daughter is nuts." Congrats, father. It took you 28 years to figure that out. Very astute. Also, the hardest my mother laughed was when she read the Watergate reference. It really shows her age. Then I suggested she share the blog link with her friends. Her reply: "I might and I might not. You don't identify yourself on here do you?" Obviously, my parents are proud. And I think I just really gave myself the ultimate life wedgie. I shared this link with my parents.... WHY?!?! Maybe they'll forget about it if I never talk about it again. Maybe they'll love it, and if I fail at everything else, they'll be like, "Well, we loved her blog, so we're still proud." Or they'll lie and tell me they don't read it, when they do, and I'll slip up and mention something horrible on here that gets me in the shit house with them. I mean, it's not like they didn't already know that they produced a hell raiser bent on mild social disruption and minimal chaos. Regardless of what they think, great life choice sharing that link, Mischief. Maybe my photo belongs in the first post next to Madoff.

Mom, pops, if you're reading this, dammit.