Monday, August 31, 2009


Personally, I think society went downhill when women stopped wearing hats, men stopped singing and harmony, and movies stopped including tap-dancing.

Honestly, when I think of America--the GOOD America--I think of the era of Singin' in the Rain. Gene Kelly. Don O'Connor. Debbie Reynolds. Frank Sinatra. Cary Grant. (He's a little further back, but STILL, I would MARRY him.) Men wore trousers. TROUSERS. Pants with a crease, that were actually ON their asses instead of below them. Pants that FIT. And fit soooo nicely. Heehee. But seriously, these pants were awesome, and just tied in witht the whole image of the era. Suspenders, too. They weren't punk back then--they were mainstream awesome. Women didn't leave the house without a hat. An elaborate hat, with pins and bows and flowers and feathers. These hats were the SHIT. There were whole hat-shops for women--whole hat PIN shops for women!--where they could purchase their status-hats that would make them part of high society. Hats were fricking everything back then. Plus, the hats were cute as all get out. And let's face it, hat pins were just gorgeous.

Then there were manners. Women were treated with respect and reverence, even though I know the whole women's-rights thing, the Hollywood dolls were something special. Men didn't grab their asses and say "Hey baby [insert bawdy pick-up line here!]" No, men would lavish the apple of their eye with flowers and gifts and rides in an automobile to the point of utter cheese. I love the "overly forward" characters in movies from back then... the lady-chasers who know the way to a woman's heart--but not the stubborn heroine's! If only the "overly forward" men of today would behave like that, I think I'd just die of contentment.

And the PICTURES! Ah, movies were so beautiful back then. Movies about movies. The Hollywood boom. Amazing songs. Male harmonies in amazing songs. TAP-DANCING. Honestly, even if a movie today has most of the qualities that I listed, you can sure as hell bet it won't have tap dancing. Tap is a dead art in the picture show... a dead art that I mourn every time I watch a musical. Even if, by some measure of obscenely lucky chance, there was a movie with tap-dancing in it, it probably wouldn't have the same all-American charm about it. Forget it, it DEFINITELY wouldn't. There's something special about the soft colors and edges, Debbie Reynold's particular vocal inflection that defined an era's accent, the tap-dancing in rainy streets.. there's something about that era of film-making that was wholesome, classy, and yet wonderfully comedic.

Ah, to live in a time when the phrase "truth, justice, and the American Way" actually meant something. When it wouldn't get you laughed at. Damn, what I'd give to live in the misty world of Hollywood's past.

Fellow bloggers, if proper ladies still wore hats, I'd tip mine to you.


Saturday, August 22, 2009

Emotions en Pagaille

Tim: Pixie makes me think I'm a freaking wood sprite.

You know what really pisses me off, even more than tacos? Emo kids. Because emo kids, as a rule, are probably the most whiny, obnoxious species of human on the planet. They don't have legitimate problems. They want attention. And that's bad, because some people really DO have problems.

Emo kids are not actually depressed, because that would render them not-emo. Emo kids are not cutters, as that would also render them not-emo. Emo kids are the people who think that if they act really depressed and say they cut themselves (or actually do cut themselves) because of petty "emotional turmoil" or something, they will get attention, pity, and even fawning admirers. See, I know of a few emo kids in the relative neighborhood. They all dress "dark," experiment with sexuality (not a bad thing, but I have a suspicion that some of them do it for attention), talk to everyone about how they cut, etc. Oh, and some of them read Twilight and think that because they read a pathetic excuse for toilet paper (but it includes "vampires!" that's totally hardcore, right?) that makes them "dark" and gives them dimension, but I'm not even going to GO there.

See, here's my main thing: if you are a real cutter, you probably do not tell people about it. You have a legitimate problem, and need help. Emo kids like to tell people about--or worse "accidentally" show other people--their cuts. Some even go so far as to show people their cuts on purpose, pretend it was an accident, and make up an obviously fake excuse to get attention and pity. They like to show it off, because it proves that they're "hardcore" or that they're actually messed up or something. Well yeah, they're messed up. But in a different way. Emo kids take a real problem, a problem that is horrible and needs help and, yes, pity, and turn it into an attention-seeking device that absolutely disgusts me. Plus, many of the emos that I've been acquainted with like to go further than their circle of friends--they take their attention-seeking to the Internet. Sure, if you have a livejournal (or, in my case) a blogger account that basically nobody reads, an angsty outpouring of sorrow can be therapeutic. But when you go posting your melodramatic shit about "ohh I just want to DIE, look, I CUT myself and I'm so ALONE..." everywhere you can and sending it to your friends, it gets on the verge of "Where is your house? I need to drop a few atomic bombs." (Yes, I have been literally SENT emo melodramatic rants while talking to people, and yes, it is even more pathetic than it sounds when you experience it firsthand. It's like, ok, WHY are you sending this to me? not only did you create the biggest awkward moment ever, but I just want to stab you in the face for having the audacity to pretty much ASK for pity and attention.)

Next gripe I have? Emo poetry. Thou knowest that thou hast achieved true EMO when thou write'st poetry that includes something akin to the phrase "tears of blood" or praises thine razor blades for their sharpness. Honestly. Emotional outpourings into poems are great. I happen to enjoy raw emotion thrown lyrically onto a page, especially sorrow. It's hard-hitting and meaningful. But when you go SO FAR into the melodrama and attention-whoring, I WILL MENTALLY SHANK YOU. Remember this, emo children. Every time you even THINK the phrase "black tears soak my broken soul," you are being mentally SHANKED.

Now let me write my disclaimer. It's totally healthy and fine to vent to your friends when things go badly. It's all right to even vent onto the Internet. But when you go as far as this, it not only gets annoying, but it cheapens people with real problems. If you tell a real cutter or person with suicidal ideation that they're "so emo," that's going to hurt them. Deeply. You're taking their real pain and their real problems and cheapening it into some sort of horrifying fad. That's not OK. So emos, line up for your mental shanking. You deserve it, you whiny attention-whores.

Tata, loves.


Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Qu'est-ce que Cela Peut Faire...?

It's better to be looked over than overlooked. -Mae West

See that quote above? For all my love of Mae West and her back-in-the-day-female-playya awesomeness, that quote is LIES. Romance is probably the single most confusing and terrifying thing I, and probably most other people, have encountered in their lives. And yet, for some insane, masochistic reason that baffles the world, WE CRAVE IT. Sure, it's probably animal sex-drive, but that's what hookers are for! (I am joking, don't worry.)

Either way, when we know that it's all so confusing and infuriating and painful, why do we always seek out new romantic situations? Why do we crave them when we don't have them? WHAT IS THE PULL?!? Sure, it's awesome when it's going well, but the other 99% of the time, romance/love/whatever is absolutely baffling. Now that may be my general lack of common social skills and sense speaking, but I think I'm onto something. Being probably the only consequence-obsessed person in the country (well, not really, but you get the idea) I find romantic situations to be a minefield of possible fuck-ups, where each potential consequence is no more likely than the next. And why? Because people are DAMN CONFUSING. Therefore, no matter what you do, you basically have the same chance of fucking up. Unless it's something really, really dumb, like thinking it's romantic to jump at your partner while they're sleeping while wearing a gorilla suit or nailing them with a supersoaker when they least expect it--BUT MOST PEOPLE DON'T DO THAT. Though I think relationships would be easier to figure out if they did. Can't you see the conversations?
"Tony just jumped at me in a gorilla suit yesterday--it scared the shit out of me!"
"Oh my God, it must be love!"
Feel free to vomit now. But I think it would be pretty damn funny. Nobody buys flowers anymore anyway (unless they've done something wrong..?). Gorilla suits and water guns are WAY more romantic.

The most baffling thing of all is that we have very little control over our own feelings. Why else would we love people who are bad to us, or be hesitant about what would definitely be a much better relationship? Is it insanity in attraction? Or is it just plain old overwhelmed-ness and confusion because stuff always seems to happen at the speed of light and there's never much reaction time? [I'm voting for the second option.]

Either way, love is confusing. Feelings are confusing. Life is confusing. Currently, I am one seriously confused bitch, and it's not just about romance. This summer work is going to eat my brains for breakfast. Little do my teachers know that I'm doing my book report on
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

[I have no idea what I'm going to do.]

So how do you feel? Shoot me a comment.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I Fricking Hate Tacos

Me: You have just received the Amish Computer Virus. Since the Amish don't have computers, it is based on the honor system. So please delete all the files from your computer. Thank you for your cooperation.
Tim: u fail at life. im running a virus deleting program right now. like no joke.

You know, people just don't like certain foods. Usually, this is because of taste. But not this time. Because I FRICKING HATE TACOS. Not because of the taste--tacos are great. They're yummy. But they are the single most obnoxious food I have ever put into my body, seriously.

You see, the fatal flaw of the taco is that there is literally no way to eat it without making a mess. I'm not talking about Sloppy Joe Face or Rib Fingers. Those messes are acceptable (even though Sloppy Joes are gross) even though they typically end up with scrubbing barbecue sauce out from under your fingernails. But no. Every time anyone bites into a taco, half the shell decides to shatter, covering the hands in greasy meat, causing said greasy meat to flop out of the taco along with half the toppings because the taco decided to self-destruct just by being eaten. Once the shattered shell and taco stuffing vomits out of its container and onto one's plate (assuming its vomiting aim is good enough to hit your plate and not, say, your lap, spouse, or new white blouse that you wear to prance through the snow to the tune of Andrea Bocelli) there is almost no way to eat it properly, even with a fork. Especially since, half the time, the taco-eater doesn't have the foresight to get a fork out, thinking that a taco is finger food. LIES. Because this mess of taco-spew is slicker than owl crap and will flop off the tiny shell fragments/fork you use to try to scrape it into your mouth. Preferably onto your lap, spouse, or new white blouse...

Yeah. So tacos are probably the most obnoxious food in the world. Seriously. Even more obnoxious than giant jawbreakers (which are seriously impossible to eat without getting sticky sugar-mess all over one's face and hand[s], usually in midsummer.)

So what do you think is the most obnoxious food? Leave a comment and tell me.

Tata, peeps.