The Kitten Effect

The Kitten Effect: The act of wanting something new to make you happy.

Wanting a kitten (or car, baby, dog, or boobs) in order to fill an emotional void. Not realizing that the void you are filling is your own unhappiness.

If someone wants a kitten, you should immediately hug them and ask why their life sucks and what you can do to help.

If said person becomes alarmed and states they just want something to cuddle with. They are lying. Kittens are assholes. They grow up to be full-grown-asshole-cats.

Never underestimate the threat of a Kitten.

Kitten = deep seated emotional turmoil.

 

Slender Man: More Effective than Bees

I had NO idea there was a “Slender Man” legend out there until very recently.  It’s excellent and I wish it was around to terrify me when I was a child!  Why wouldn’t I?  I think being afraid of alien abductions, robots, bees, midgets and genetic mishaps has helped form a healthy appreciation for things around me.

Slender man is a super thin, tall man with no facial features who wears a black suit; you can see him in the background of photos with children – because he’s a stalker who enjoys traumatizing and occasionally abducting children.  Genius!  I think the idea came from a computer game, but I’m less interested in that and more interested in the level of creepiness compared to my own childhood terrors.

When I was a kid my dad told me to “beware the Manahoonies!”  According to my dad- the Manahoonies were midgets who lived in Hawaii, and if you opened your eyes while you were in bed and saw one, they would steal you in the middle of the night and you’d never see your family again.  This might have been told to me around the same time I watched the Wizard of Oz because the idea of little people taking me to a magical land was actually kind of enticing and I secretly wanted to see a Manahoonie. 

 

“Killer Bees from Africa” was a fairly successful tactic to get me in the house when it got dark.  I’m not sure why I was told they only came out at night, but I’d listen for their buzzing and come running.  Fortunately I never ran into any killer bees – but I did try catching a bumble bee once.  Why are they so fuzzy and cute if they don’t want you to pet them?!
 
Then came the “Wampus Cat”.  A genetic nightmare -  part bear, part cat, only partially scary.  The Wampus Cat lives outside and when it gets dark it’s drawn to the lights in houses and lurks under trees waiting for unsuspecting children to come outside.  Actually less effective than the bees, mostly because I figured out my dad was the one hiding, growling – and then coming in to laugh at me.  At least bees don’t growl. Or laugh.

Back to Slender Man...  Even as an adult, I’m marginally afraid I’ll see Slender Man in my photo’s but no longer afraid of bees from Africa.  I’d say Slender Man is slightly more effective than bees, and extremely more effective than magical Manahoonies from Hawaii…

 

 

The Human Centipede Finds a Happy Ending

Unfortunately part of getting back to my “normal” self lately involves finding out that I’m not very “normal” at all. The words “Hey, let’s watch the Human Centipede!” came out of my face last weekend when some of my friends came over for some pizza and a little visit. We only made it 40 minutes into the ass-to-mouth train wreck before it really registered with my friends that they can never un-see what they just saw… By this time the evil German doctor (and why wouldn’t he be German?) had already sewn three unfortunate tourists end to end in an unpleasant predicament. 

After stopping the movie I couldn’t help but wonder how this gruesome cinema disaster played out.  I can assume the worse, but I think it’s more fun to assume the best case scenario here.

 

Once Evil German Doctor performed his surgery and everyone woke up I’m fairly sure the “A” section of the centipede was gifted not just with math (because he’s Asian), but also at debating and was able to aptly explain to Evil German Doctor why this “centipede” idea wasn’t ethical, legal, or fun.  Maybe, just maybe the Evil German Doctor felt a little bad about his behavior, and perhaps he had been drinking too much and partaking in illegal substances the night he abducted and sewed the three tourists together.  I’m sure he called an ambulance and had them taken to a nice hospital where his surgery was reversed – before the Asian “A” section of the centipede had to go #2… the surgeries were successful and the Doctor turned himself in to law enforcement.

 

OR maybe the German Doctor was really doing society a justice!!  How do we know the Asian guy wasn’t a serial rapist, brain eating psychopath?  And the two girls were part of a Mexican drug cartel responsible for kidnapping and selling young girls in a prostitution ring from Mexico?  Also, they all 3 kick puppies and kittens and orphans and dwarfs…   Maybe they deserved a little digestive manipulation?  That might be the better story…  Hooray for the German Doctor!

 

Balloons Full of Breathe and Glitter on the Mattress

Having children makes you rethink the oddest things.  Like balloons for instance, (helium excluded because helium is pretty fucking awesome).  “Mommy blow up this balloon”.  Okay. I’m blowing my hot nasty breathe into a latex bubble only to immediately get it yanked out of my hands so my child can watch it “pffffftttt” expelling my recently excorcised hot nasty breathe back in their face.  Fun times right?  Then there’s pool toys.  And most importantly carnival prizes like inflated hammers and characters.  Either the Carnie has a nice little air pump, or he put his moldy, rotting mouth on that little plastic nub, and blew his sour whiskey breath into your kid’s new toy.  Guess who gets to make sure that toy remains blown up after you go home?  Me.  Guess whose mouth was on it before mine?  A hepatitis carrying carnie.  Awesome. 
 

Next birthday, when I give you a balloon, remember how weird it is that I am giving you a bubble full of my breathe.  Whiskey smell optional.

 

Glitter is another product I never had an issue with before children.  My craft projects including glitter were pretty minimal.

Now glitter has become like a freaking plague.  You can’t get rid of it.  You’ll spend day’s tracking down glitter on your table, your floor, your hands, your face, your pets, your children, your childrens friends, your food, diapers, the cat's litterbox...  You’ll be tempted to throw out items that have been infested with the stuff.  You’ll go to work thinking you are uncontaminated, only to have someone tell you there’s a piece of glitter on your cheek. Fuck!   Maybe instead of trying to fight it, just roll in it. Embrace the glitter phenomenon.  It's EVERYWHERE!  You really can't hide.  It's in my lipgloss right now.  And I'm wearing it.  Shit.

 

 

 

Nature is gross and waiting...

Our 5-year-old son got a "butterfly garden" for his birthday and I promptly sent off for his butterfly "larvae" so we can watch as mother nature unfolds her beauty before us.  Well, it's gross, not beautiful, and slightly alarming...

Okay these are pretty benevolent and kind of cute actually… little “baby” caterpillars.

Looking less cute and more like those gross centipedes that make their way into your tent when you are trying to enjoy nature by camping in it.

Hmm… I’m now realizing that these are NOT the fuzzy-wuzzy caterpillars I used to let crawl all over me in the summer time… these ones are kind of spikey and grub-like.

ew, now they are making yucky webs and leaving their pooh everywhere…  and did I just see a piece of caterpillar fall off and get snared in their own web?  Gross…

Seriously… how much bigger are they going to get and I swear to God they are watching me with their shiny black eyes…  At this stage I’m reminded of the movie Tremors…

See the similarities??

Okay, now they are just toying with me…  seriously – do they have to roll their pooh next to the plastic viewing area in a big mound?   Gross…

This is the day they all simultaneously decided to hang upside down and do curl ups – mildly exciting to watch, just wish they didn’t web and pooh all over the damn place first…

Again… I had pictured something a little more friendly looking, and less spikey/malevolent looking when they made their cocoons…   and apparently they didn’t need ALL of their caterpillar parts because they decided to leave some of their “sections” outside of their creepy place… 

We (Daddy) had to move them to the butterfly habitat after they all transformed into spikey cocoons.  One of them wiggled a whole lot after the move – I think that must be their leader and he was probably pissed off.  After they hatch I have my doubts that they will become butterflies, and have begun realizing they will instead turn into some kind of evil parasite hell bent on entering our brains while we sleep, implant thoughts and slowly take over our bodies before they lay eggs and take over the human race.   So if I start having some good ideas next week – you could question if it’s really ME or just the eggs hatching in my head…

See! Gremlin cocoons…  close enough.

Tracy can't leave me because a bear might eat her face.

Reasons why my bestie cannot move to Alaska:

5. She doesn’t look good in snow – I should know, I have a lot of pictures of her stuck to a snowboard lying in the snow with a scowl on her face.

4. Have you SEEN “30 Days of Night”??

3. If you can see Russia from your house, you are too close.

2. There’s that whole “other” country between us.

This is the most important reason of all:

#1 reason for not moving to Alaska….

Because I’m afraid she will fall in love with a polar bear and he will eat her face.  Now hear me out – I’m sure most of you are thinking this is an irrational fear, but I assure you- it could happen!  And Tracy’s chances of survival once her face is eaten off are slim to none.   Let’s just picture if you will…  Tracy is walking home from the supermarket one night (replace “supermarket” with “bar”) and in an intoxicated moment of blindness (replace “moment” with “night”) she mistakes a native polar bear for a husky man with a fur coat on, and sharp- pointy shoes and mittens.  Sure he’s not a “looker” but he loves to cuddle!  He takes her back to his place by carrying her in his mouth.  This might seem odd to most, but Tracy thinks it’s endearing.   His place is a cave.  Tracy feels sympathy for the poor guy; the economy must have hit him pretty hard!  She takes a couple of twenty’s out of her wallet and slips them under a rock for him to find later and maybe buy some food or deodorant… what is that smell?  The polar bear saunters back over to Tracy; she gets ready to pucker up, but then realizes she doesn’t even know his name!  She opens her eyes and begins to move her lips to ask him the question, but as she starts to peek through her eyelids his giant, massive jaws clamp shut around her head!!  Ahhh!  The agony!  The pain!!!  The halitosis!!  This is not a man!!!  No man could ever fit her whole head in his mouth, and believe me, they’d tried!!  And who’s there to hear her scream??   Nobody!  Because Alaska is a lonely place where nobody can hear you scream when you are being eaten by a polar bear!!   You’d think you might be safe during hibernation – but when the hell does a polar bear hibernate?? Isn’t it winter all year round in that forsaken state? 

Oh yeah- there’s also hyperthermia, that’s another good reason not to go.  And the cannibal-eskimo’s.  But mostly the bear eating her face.  That’s the main reason she can’t go…

Story Time in Handcuffs!

I didn't realize until recently how creepy and ill-taught some of our childhood stories are.  Telling my son that Santa is going to break and enter into our house while he's sleeping only makes it okay because Santa's leaving gifts instead of stealing televisions and laptops...  but think about all the rest of our stories- what are we really telling the kids?!

The Tooth Fairy-
Another night-time sneaker who hovers over you as your defenseless body is slumbering, snatches your tooth and gives you a quarter.  What happens if you don't have a tooth for her the night she visits you?  Does she pull one out of your head instead??


The Sandman-
Yet another nocturnal creeper who blows some kind of chemically altered sand into our eyes to make us go to sleep...  but why?  Is he planning on reading our diary after we drift off?  Maybe he's going to raid the fridge while we snooze?  How can we be sure he's not stealing our "virtues" much like frat-boys and their "date rape" drugs?    Yes, the Sandman could be a serial rapist... 

Hansel & Gretel-
The story of Hansel and Gretel is obviously told from the wrong party.  If you ask the witch (if she survived the human oven) I'm sure she'd be pressing charges for trespassing, destruction of property, and attempted murder.  How can we trust this Hansel and Gretel duo to tell the truth??


The Little Mermaid-
She's obviously a klepto.  "I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty. I've got whozits and whatzits galore. You want thingamabobs? I got twenty" What are we teaching children about hoarding??! 


Alice in Wonderland-
Eat this, drink this... see hallucinations!  Hugs not drugs kids.  That Alice needed a serious hugging. 

Beauty and the Beast-
The message is clearly "it's okay to fall in love with animals and want to be intimate with them". This is where antisocial cat-ladies are created..


Jack and the Beanstalk-
I think most juries would find him guilty of larceny, breaking & entering, and voluntary manslaughter.


Goldilocks and the 3 Bears-
Breaking and entering, destruction of property...  can eating poridge be considered theft?  Because they'll never get that "just right" poridge back again!


Puss in Boots-
Besides the fact that I don't want my offspring calling anything a "puss"-  the damn cat in the story lies his ass off and in the end the lying wins his master a bride and place in the royal court.  Lesson to be learned: "lying is okay as long as it is used to improve your social status".


So in short- what can be expected of our children when we read tales of criminals being celebrated as heroes?  Nothing less than thieving little liars who grow up pushing old ladies into ovens and eat other peoples poridge... 

Christmas traditions unleashed!

Like the Grimm fables in which not everyone lived happily ever after, in fact, most characters were horrible maimed or killed in some horrifying manner...  So is true of most Christmas traditions.  Now you can be enlightened and maybe even create your own Grimm Christmas traditions!

Christmas stockings-
It is a little known fact that the original Santa Claus did not, in fact, leave coal for the naughty boys and girls, but instead would chew off their toes while they slept, stuff the bloody digits in a sock and nail them to the fireplace as a warning to other children about the consequences of being naughty.  Parents began hanging the empty stockings weeks before Christmas as a visual reminder to their children to behave- or risk getting their toes gnawed off.  Throughout the years this early tradition has been replaced with the less brutal activity of filling the stockings with candy & toys for good children and coal for the naughty. 


Fruit Cake-
Originally fruit cake was given to neighbors who constantly fued over property boundaries, steal farm animals, sleep with your daughters or those that are generally just annoying.  The fruit cake was carefully prepared and wrapped in a pillowcase.  Upon answering the door you would proceed to beat the offending neighbor with the hard-as-rocks fruitcake.  When the beating was finished you left your neighbor with a fruit-candy filled delectable treat to be enjoyed by the whole family in the days before Christmas.


Mistletoe-
Now thought to be the kissing-plant...  Mistletoe is actually poisonous and young men would use this plant to get young ladies to kiss them the day before Christmas.   If a lady refused to kiss a man holding mistletoe high above their heads, he would then crush up the plant and put it in her drink when she wasn't looking.  The mortality rates increased respectiveley based on the amount of ugly men in town. 


Christmas Carolers-
Although a dying tradition, going from house to house singing Christmas songs came along when insane assylums decided to let their patients out for a day as a way to reward good behavior.  Unfortunately, most of the mental patients would gather in a mob to travel from house to house while singing to themselves and lighting houses on fire.  Occasionally the mob would stop mid-arson to really nail a well sung diddy that brought delight to the ears of any passersby.   This "day off from the insane assylum" was a short-lived tradition, but the off-key singing and house-to-house mob-travel still lingered on for quite some time.

Goats are EVIL and Tracy needs one!

#1:  They eat blackberry bushes and thistles and anything most people/animals steer clear of.

I understand eating blackberries and brandishing a few cuts and scratches in the attempt to pick these delicious summer berries.  But goats prefer to chew on the portion of the plant that causes these cuts and scratches… thus telling you "hey f*ck you with your delicate skin and mouths! We love this sh*t!"  Are they sadists?!  Nothing but pure evil could be responsible for this abomination.

#2:  They are the only animal that can eat the toxic plant, tansy, which is capable of killing a full-grown horse.  Are their stomachs made of iron?  No, just pure evil.

#3:  Their eyes!  Those are some freaking creepy eyeballs!  It’s like a frog and a cat mated with Steve Bushimi…  Those eyes have only one purpose, to steal souls.  For the love of God! Don’t look  them in the eyes!

#4:  Horns.  This is self explanatory since we all know most demons have horns…. And split hooves…  Proof of their heredity to satan. 

#5:  Those goats that don’t have ears.  These are an extra special breed of evil!  I believe they were bred with the intention of stalking prey until we are forced to look in their eyes so they can steal our soul…   In my worst nightmare I imagine being home alone, popping some Jiffy Pop on the stove when I hear a little “clip-clip” of hooves down the hall… Popcorn handle in hand, I peek around the corner to look down the hall- and at the very end of the hall- where it is darkest; I would see an earless goat staring back at me.  Quickly I scurry around the corner, open the kitchen drawer and start rummaging for a knife… when I close the drawer, the earless goat is now standing right beside me!  I scream!  He stares…  I scream again!  He keeps staring… and poof!  There goes my soul!  F*ck you earless demon!

#6:  It’s also common knowledge that all goats have the number “666” tatooed under their tongue-->  forged by Lucifer himself.   (I haven’t really looked into this fact, but I’m sure it’s true…)

And there you have it!  6 reasons why I think goats are pure evil.  These reasons also serve as justification for why I think my BFF Tracy should get a goat.  C’mon!  They eat blackberry bushes, toxic things, look weird and can hear predators coming just as good as any watch dog.  Tracy you need a goat!

p.s.
To any goats reading this- leave me the hell alone!

The forbidden closet of mystery....

While visiting my friend Trixie (name changed to protect the not-so-innocent) some of us ladies meandered through her bedroom to see if we could all fit in her bathtub (this is something full-grown women do... sometimes... right?).  As we walked past her closet she launched herself in front it like a starving hyena guarding a piece of meat.   So naturally I wanted to open it.   After a short struggle and elbow to the face, I opened the closet door and saw what mystery lie beyond...



Hervé Villechaize stood just inside the door (ya know the little guy that played Tattoo on Fantasy Island?) with a Mai Tai in one hand and an abacus in the other.  “Welcome to Fantasy Closet my friend” he said and shoved the Mai Tai in my hand.  This is great!  Wait… isn’t Hervé dead?  Oh well, this Mai Tai tastes pretty good.  Setting the abacus down Hervé escorted me through the closet… hey, why was he holding an abacus?  "Drink more Mai Tai" Hervé said inside my head. Weird... 

Unlike the closet to Narnia, this closet was filled with shelves.  On the left the shelves were crowded with jars of pickles… only upon closer inspection, there weren’t pickles in the jar, but tiny Hervé’s!  Just swimming around making fish-O’s with his lips…   Hervé took the lid off one of the jars and sprinkled some fish food inside, and little fish- Hervé swam to the top gulping the food in and spitting little pieces out, only to eat it again… Gross…   Hervé gestured to the other side of the closet where the shelves were filled with Justin Bieber dolls...  all lined up from tallest to shortest...  "Es muy guapo, eh?" Hervé asked... but I thought he was French?  I nodded yes and I slowly backed towards the door...  Hervé said "No! you cannot leave without a gift!" and he gestered with his hands towards the pickeled Hervé fish jars and then the Justin Bieber dolls while he wagged his eyebrows up and down.    So I took one of the Hervé fish home and named him Pickle...

Okay, so she didn't let me in her closet... Trixie turned homicidal and threatened bodily harm instead.   


So what do you do if a friend has a closet in her bedroom she will never let you open?  You post the question on Facebook of course! 


Some fabulous answers were:
• Whips, Chains, Swing
• A midget with a hamster wearing a headlamp
• Ball gag
• Zipper mask
• David Carradine
• Donkey
• Jumper cables
• Skeletons
• Rubber sheets

All fun answers, but what could be more fun than a closet full of Hervé Villechaize?

R.I.P. Herveervé Villechaize 1943-1993