The End of Days is Nigh. And Someone Needs to Come Over and Kill a Bug for Me.

(Note:  This was partly written Saturday afternoon, so please excuse some no-longer correct verb tenses.)

There have been some seriously cool bugs.

Jiminy Cricket is a pretty neat fellow, if perhaps a bit preachy.

Chester, the very talented headliner in A Cricket in Times Square.

Charlotte and her fantastic web.

The cockroach in WALL-E.

Buzz, the Cheerios mascot, if you're stretching.

This is not one of those bugs.

A truly enormous beetle has taken up residence on the suspension chain of my ceiling light.  It looks a bit like an elongated beetle that flies.  Or the First Horseman of the Apocalypse, Pestilence.  I haven't made up my mind yet.  Whatever.

It is taunting my dog.  No, seriously.  It's been here a few hours now, and I definitely see its pattern.

It reposes on the chain, standing upright on its hindmost legs, for long stretches of time while Prada growls at it.  (Prada is very brave, you know.)  Then just when her growls die out, the bug thrusts its thorax at us like an enthusiastic Elvis impersonator.  When the thorax wagging is no longer driving Prada quite mad enough, the bug flies down to the glass shade--always on the side facing us.  Bastard.  Eventually, it crawls back up onto the chain to start the process over again.

For about twenty minutes, Prada, Stink, and I all watched the bastard bug, transfixed.  I finally started a movie.  Between the bug and Prada's strong reaction to it, I was starting to (ear)wig.  Unfortunately, I chose a movie with dinosaurs.  When they started roaring, Prada almost fell off the bed, convinced the vile beast was on the attack.  Poor girl couldn't decide if she was cowering on my lap or valiantly defending me.

When the movie finished, I turned off the overhead light, foolishly thinking my bedside lamp wasn't bright enough to attract the monster's attention.  I was wrong.  It dive-bombed my face, at which point Prada and I both squealed like the little girls we are.

So I turned on the bathroom light, turned off the lights everywhere else, and hid under the covers till morning.

I am so badass.


(True:  The bug turned up the next morning in my bathtub.  And then I killed it, because I totally am badass.)

Five Things About Me You're Gonna Wish You Didn't Know, Or, A Bipedian English Dictionary Is in the Works

I wasn't going to post today, but Noa over at Oh Noa thinks I leave mildly amusing comments on occasion so I might actually get some traffic* and ohgodthepressure.

*(Besides that from my 22 loyal followers.  I love you 22 people so much that if you were to ask, I'd clean the baked on goop from that window of your ovens.*) 

*(That is a conditional sentence.*  I will not be cleaning anyone's oven.  I'd rather just stick my head it it.)

*(It's the same reason you really need to stop saying, "If I was you.")


So, I had to think of a topic off-hand, and this is what you're getting.  If you don't like it, too damn bad.

1.  When I was very small, My Sister the Lawyer once locked my imaginary friend in the house when the family was going on a trip.  I made my parents turn around to get her.

2.  My imaginary friend's name was Ulie.  Which is actually the name of one of William Tell's cohorts back in the fifteenth century.  This probably goes beyond simple precocity.

3.  The word "precocity" is in my lexicon.

4.  I can't help but point out when people use words incorrectly or in the wrong context.  This prompts them to call me a Grammar Nazi.  Thus I am forced to elucidate them on the difference between grammar and syntax.

5.  It would probably be more accurate, to call me not a Grammar Nazi, but enlightened or perhaps perspicacious.  Of course, "brilliant" would work in a pinch.

Via

(True:  Bonus!  I identify deeply with Amelia Peabody.)

Remember Me? That Blogger Who Isn't Dead? (Yet.)

You guys.  Did you know that tomorrow, September 13th, is Defy Superstition Day?  I think it's funny that the one superstition no one will be defying will be the whole Friday the 13th thing.

I was going to write about all the superstitions I was going to bash my way through tomorrow, but I'm beginning to realize there is a difference between being superstitious and being crazy.

Things I'm not afraid of (aka, things other people are apparently afraid of):

• Black cats
• Walking under a ladder
• Breaking a mirror
• Opening an umbrella indoors
• Crows, ravens, and albatross
• Sidewalk cracks
• Red sky in morning

Things I am afraid of (aka, why yes, I am neurotic):

• Putting mail in one of those big, blue, public mailboxes
• Not checking at least twice to see if my car doors are well and truly locked
• Making any noise whatsoever when my neighbor comes or goes
• Giving everything (even inanimate objects) less-than-equal treatment (All of my stuffed animals were shown no favoritism when I was a child.)
• The Gremlins under the bed
• Books that aren't alphabetized by author (though by genre, then by author is acceptable.)

So maybe I'll mail you letter and then be mean to a frying pan, or something.




(True:  A friend did throw spare change on the floor of my new car for good luck, and I am sort of afraid of picking it up...)

What is wrong with me?! (Seriously.)

Walking out of the bathroom just now, I saw two co-workers staring at me, which I thought was rather odd.  Then I realized I had toilet paper stuck to my face.

Via

Vacation Fail.

I spent the long holiday weekend on a mini-vacation:  camping in northern Wisconsin.  I read, I shopped, I hiked, I ate marshmallows.  It was all very wholesome, if you discount the fact that I have contracted the plague.  I'm pretty sure a yeti spat on me in my sleep.  So if I don't post again this week, don't worry--I've just died, is all.

Children hate Pinterest, Too

Proof positive:

They're lambs, if you didn't guess.  (I know I didn't.)  Don't they look happy?  No?  Well, that's because they wanted to be superheroes and/or princesses, and you are the terrible parent who make them look like a floppy-eared tampon.

The problem here isn't the stains.  The problem here is that you were hopped up on boxwine instead of supervising your child.

The tag for this is, "20 Questions to ask your children when you're putting them to bed to help develop your relationship."  NO.  NONONONONONONONONO.  I'm sorry to have to break it to you, but it is really never okay to make this kind of references when talking about children.

This kid lives in a bubble.  Not because he has any terrible allergies and will fall into a coma if he breathes air that hasn't been sucked dry by an industrial-grade air purifier, but because he's dressed too nicely to be allowed to play.  And he's only got a box, a purse, and an antique telephone, anyway. 

And just in case you were wondering?  Putting your child in shoes with no socks when it's cold enough to require a hat and scarf doesn't make you a cool parent.  It makes you an asshole with a be-blister-footed child.  Asshole.


(True:  These are all from one page of Pinterest.  Because it's lush with crap.)

Sources:
http://pinterest.com/pin/248260998179845088/
http://pinterest.com/pin/214343263486157465/
http://pinterest.com/pin/275282595944045743/
http://pinterest.com/pin/496803402613809388/

Pinterest Makes Me Hate Everybody

WRONG.  Let's try this again:

• Goodmorning = Good morning.  You clearly are not going for a concise, 140 space text here.  Get it right.
• i = I.  We humans are ego-centric, and the first-person subjective pronoun is capitalized, which I learned in first grade.  I'm so sorry you didn't.
• Makeup = Cosmetics.  Making up is what you do naked after an argument.
• inseperable = incorrect.  Spell shit correctly.
• bestfriend = best friend.  You are still two separate (See what I did there) people.  You can be close, but your cells are not physically bound together.  The term "best friend" works the same way.
• your = you're not intelligent enough to use second-person pronouns correctly.
• people are like "your stillll together = fuck you in so many ways.  If someone is saying something, and you are using a tag such as "they say" or, less-intelligently, "people are like," then use use a comma to separate (See what I did there?) the tag and what is being said.  Just putting in quotation marks implies irony or a lack of truth.  Apparently, people are implying that you as a couple are not, in fact, "stillll together," or are only "stillll together" in a technical (but not a practical) sense.  Also, I don't know of a single word in the English language that uses four consecutive Ls.

The moral:  If you are trying to impress someone, do try not to look illiterate.

These are gift boxes--made from toilet paper rolls.  Because nothing says, "I'm a shitty friend," like giving a gift in a box that's been hanging next to your toilet for a week.  (Except maybe using a tampon box instead.  But that says more, "I'm a bloody awful friend," to me, and less, "I'm a shitty friend."

Yeah.  Fuck you, too.

I'm sure she'll love that when she grows up and becomes the man she always felt she was meant to be and gets married in a tux.  Also, who the hell is supposed to do that much planning? 

Ah, yes, the ubiquitous hipster version of the "Hang in there!" kitten motivational poster.  Shoot me now.



And finally:

• Braids and other hair styles that are touted to be "easy."
• Reasons to be fit.
• Recipes with six ingredients I've never even heard of requiring a kitchen mixer technical know-how equivalent to running the International Space Station.
• Bridal boards.
• Outfits.
• Anything DIY.

Are you on Pinterest?  Do you also have a love/hate relationship?


(True:  You can find me on Pinterest here.)

Sources:
http://pinterest.com/pin/74098356340133965/
http://pinterest.com/pin/18084835974700895/
http://pinterest.com/pin/125749014566546699/
http://pinterest.com/pin/246431410831140505/
http://pinterest.com/pin/66991113178229741/