Politics?

Ever notice some of the weird shit Rick Perry says?

oh.my.god.

I don't think I have ever been this excited to see a movie.

coffee.

I drink coffee every single day.  It is an integral part of my morning, and people who are close to me know it is not a pretty sight when I spend more than an hour in wakefulness without having my coffee.

About a month ago, my coffeemaker broke.  It had started showing signs of weakness earlier than that, but being the optimist that I am, I believed the old chap could pull though and regain full functionality.  It did not.  It died.  I almost died with it, too.  However, riding a wave of guilt from recent boredom induced online shopping binges, I decided this was not an item that needed replacement.  I convinced myself a life without a coffeemaker was still a good life to live.  I believed there were ways to have my coffee, sans the maker.  

What it really came down to was a shoddy technique of boiling water on the stove in a pot, then slowly pouring it over the coffee in the filter of the broken coffeemaker.  It was just bad.  The coffee was weaker (which in itself is an atrocity), and it wouldn’t stay hot because the heating plate no longer worked, AND it was a time consuming pain in the ass.

So after stubbornly sticking to this method for a month, I decided to go to Bed Bath and Beyond, armed with my 20% off coupon, and buy a damn coffeemaker.  Once there, I was instantly drawn to a lovely Krups machine.  It had bells, it had whistles, and it had an “on” button that actually worked.  It also had a higher price tag than I was hoping for, but what the hell – that just meant my 20% off saved me more dollars than had I purchased a cheaper product.

When I got home, I eagerly unwrapped my new lifesaver and proceeded to set it up.  The first thing I must do, I tell myself, is wash that carafe! 

In my mind, I am being a responsible adult, washing before first use. (Go, me!)  In reality, I am being a fool because the first thing I do is forcibly break off the fucking lid off the carafe.  Plastic bits go flying.  My eyeballs pop out of my face.  I am sad.  I curse my old coffee maker for having a detachable, washable lid, and myself for assuming all coffeemakers are made the same.  But then, behold! Some of the tiny parts are captured in the carafe itself!  My mind excitedly takes me to a happy place where I superglue the pieces back together into one functional, amazing lid.  So I turn the carafe upside down to empty these tiny plastic pieces into my hand, and down they tumble, ricocheting away, out of the carafe, bouncing out onto my hopeful hand, and continuing on their way, down the drain of the sink.

So I stood there for a few minutes, my mouth hanging open, eyeballs on the counter, in disbelief of my own stupidity.  Finally, I pulled myself together and repositioned the broken lid onto the carafe.  It sits on there just swell, although it’s not secure anymore, so what can you do.   At least I can still make my darn coffee in the morning. 

A Delightful Find in the New Nabe

I was exploring my neighborhood this afternoon when I discovered a most darling little vegetable garden growing right along a stretch of sidewalk.  At first I didn't realize what it was and commented to myself on the odd foliage growing on the side of the road.  But then I found this informative sign, and decided to look for some treasures.

After a little digging around I settled on taking these guys with me.  Perhaps a petite fried green tomato is in my future!

In other news, wtf is this and why does it exist?

Nevermind why I'm subscribed to a magazine that places ads with a target audience for this lifelike baby monkey doll.  Can we just talk about why any sort of demographic for a lifelike baby monkey doll exists in the first place?  Now you know I love monkeys, and baby anything is usually pretty cool, but spending $140 on this doll is totally bananas. If you or someone you know has this doll, please contact me immediately, because I have so many questions. 

Contemplations of the Q-tip

I’ve had something on my mind lately, and it has been driving me crazy.

Q-tips, the loveable go-to instrument for the cleansing of the ear hole, explicitly states on their packaging that a Q-tip is not to be used in the ear canal.  

Then, to make an even more ludicrous declaration on it’s label, it goes on to suggest what you can use a Q-tip for instead. 

A variety of uses!!

Let’s see.. applying ointments and cream – maybe.  And that’s more of a maaaaaaaybe than a maybe.  Or I don’t know, am I the only one who puts Neosporin on with my finger?  Hm, cleaning my keyboard –  nope, I don’t think I would buy a box of 500 hundred Q-tips for my bi-annual precision dusting of my laptop’s keyboard. And finally, household cleaning, demonstrated by a Q-tip enlarged 10x relative to its surroundings, lingering over some dirty bathroom grout.  Really, Q-tips?  Is this your attempt at humor?  No one in the history of this world has ever scrubbed a dirty bathroom with a freaking Q-tip.  This is just laughable.  I estimate the usable surface area of a Q-tip is about 15mm².  And I estimate the cleanable surface area of a bathroom is at least 2m², or 2,000,000mm².  So you see, Q-tips, it does not make sense to use a Q-tip to clean something 133,333 times its size.

COME ON, Q-TIPS. I know you know people are buying you because they clean their ears with you. All these silly excuses for alternate uses of the Q-tip is obviously a front.  You remind me of the mafia-owned coffee shop next door to where I used to work.  It was clearly not an establishment for purchasing coffee and pastry delights.  Yet still, I once made the mistake of dropping in for coffee, which was microwaved and handed to me.  And there I sat, for the longest 5 minutes of my life, awkwardly drinking my coffee.  The girl at the counter glared at me.  Large Italian men kept walking into the shop, and they would glare at me and disappear into a mysterious back room.  It was like a clown car, but instead of clowns, dudes in the mafia, and instead of a car, a dingy back office.  I felt unwanted there.

And now here I am 4 years later and I feel like I’m back at square one.  Q-tips, you make me feel unwanted.  I buy you for your one forbidden purpose.  I feel so conflicted.

GTFO

I think it’s hilarious what my requirements for a potential man friend have become lately.  I mean, from an objective point of view, it really is a little ridiculous.  Allergic to cats?  Get the fuck out.  No literally, GTFO.  You have no business being around me or my cat hair laden attire.  Don’t like cats?  Why are you even talking to me?  Do you think I would ever trade the most beautimous Minnie for your sake?  Just leave.  However, if you like cats, this is a whole different ballgame.  If you like cats, step a little closer please. Have a kitty of your own? Think this white cat hair on my pant leg would nicely complement your lapel?  Fancy the Fancy Feast for your feline?  Ah, it's a glorious thing.

But seriously, it’s not because I’m some sort of psycho cat lady (enter: Intervention?).  I have realized that having a cat, or any sort of pet, is much like having a child: the people in your life have to be open to this other being in your life.  And vice versa.  I once broke up with a guy because he was mean to Minnie.  He shoved a burrito in her face.  Picture some dude forcing a gigantic burrito up her petite and gorgeous little nostril just because she had been curious to see what we were eating.  He took that paper wrapped goodness from Benito’s and rubbed that shit in her face and guffawed.  GTFO.  That was the last time I ever saw him.

Obviously, liking cats is not my one and only requirement for potential gentlemen friends; it is only one aspect of my life that happens to conflict somewhat frequently with other peoples’ lives. Education, aspirations, propensity for eating delicious (junk?) foods – these are all also vitally important features of a mate that must be screened for immediately.   And it’s tough, too.  I mean, what are you supposed to do with a guy that seems to have it all except in one department? What if he is great in every way, except he never wants kids, or has an imaginary friend, or is scared of dentists? You then have to decide if these are traits you can tolerate for X amount of time in the future.  And the hard part is, you never really know what the value of X is going to be.

Sigh, dating can be so confusing.  

This Just Seems Cruel

I understand this is meant to be "art," but it seems more like they are just rubbing it in the poor piglet's face. "Hey Piggy, I believe your only purpose on this earth is to be eaten. I will make a mockery of this and reconstruct you using your cured body parts.  Yes, this is what you lost your life for."

Pig, from Sophie H Powell

I mean, are they at least planning on eating it afterwards? Because then it wouldn't be SO bad.