So, whilst perusing the vast pop culture gallery that is my brain/apartment, I couldn't help but notice that cartoon characters always have really awesome professions.
Mob Boss: Only available to individuals with rotund bodies, tiny feet, and a predelection for smoking large cigars without ashing them (not to be confused with old ladies smoking Virginia Slims at their Red Hat Society meeting). How does one even obtain this body shape? Careful years of honing the diet and binding the feet is the only option I can come up with. Must also be able to intimidate, or have an intimidating friend at your disposal to threaten the fine cartoon community for more ACME explosives. This leads me to my next point...
ACME dynamite in general: The one and only explosive company in cartoon history ever, and also a monopoly most likely run by Mob Bosses. Be it a tester, or a testee (no, not testes.) this seems like a pretty sweet gig. Either you hang out in the desert and blow shit up (although this could cause problems for those who dislike dry heat, but then again we are in cartoons where there is no atmosphere unless Marvin comes around) or you stand around in the desert (unless you are the Roadrunner, who is on some constant unknown journey of UTMOST IMPORTANCE to warrant sprinting everywhere) and get explosives shoved off a cliff onto your head. Either way, you get to hang out in the desert.
Bandit: Nowhere in the free world are there straight up bandits anymore. Gone are the days of the Wild West and carriage robberies. But, Yosemite Sam and Speedy Gonzalez are still going strong. Now, there is debate as to whether Speedy is actually a bandit or not, but lets be real here. He's a quick Mexican mouse, obvs criteria for being a bandit (not meant to be offensive towards Mexicans or mice, just making a point about banditos). I would also like to know the location of the store that sells horizontal striped long sleeve shirts, and blindfolds with eye-holes cut out that are integral for being a successful bank robber. That's probably where Waldo is at this very moment, or at least where he hides when he's not in those damn picture books [sidenote: I Spy books were probably just photos of people's overly messy rooms that were submitted in lieu of setting up those ridiculously complicated scenes].
{Due to Ginger's class being over, and adventures to get to, more career descriptions are forthcoming}
Peace and Pintos,
Ginge
Friday, April 23, 2010
Where have all the cowboys gone?
A brief commentary on the evolution of wrestling:
Wrestling, whether "legitimate" or staged, seems to be quite popular in North America and other parts of the world. Whether you are a die-hard wrestling fan or mostly unfamiliar with the sport, you will surely have noticed one common thread - latent homosexuality.
Wrestling has been around for thousands of years. There are different styles attributed to China (dating back up to 4000 years), ancient Egypt, and many other cultures. The most infamous and still widely used form of wrestling is Greco-Roman wrestling. Traditionally, men would get naked, grease themselves up and roll around with/touch all up on other men (to put it simply). In modern times, Greco-Roman wrestling is still recognized as an Olympic sport; however, they are now required to wear a singlet that still disturbingly displays their packages. Not only are there massive amounts of latent homosexuality present, but there is even a class of wrestlers as young as 13 to age 15 called "schoolboys". I wouldn't be surprised if every spectator to that match had a pedo 'stache. And let's talk about how a wrestler can earn points for "exposure"...wow.
More along the lines of "real" wrestling, there is high school and college wrestling. What comes to mind besides male-on-male action are only a few things: projecting hyper masculine imagery, anorexia, ring worm, and cauliflower ear. I think that we can all agree that none of these are pleasant to begin with; when coupled with spandex they create a new disaster entirely. Most of the wrestlers I knew were originally football players who got bored in the off season, and who likely missed smacking other men on the bum. Although many former high school wrestlers seem to drop wrestling in college because they are supposedly not as serious about the sport, it is my theory that perhaps their ability to blame beer pong and flip cup for touching their fellow frat boys inappropriately is to blame. We've all heard horror stories about bro rape.
In the 90's, wrestling took an interesting turn. More of the general public took an interest in staged wrestling and the names of wrestlers were familiar to most households, or at least those with younger children and teenagers. The most fascinating of all rivalries was, undoubtedly, the war between "Hollywood" Hulk Hogan and "Macho Man" Randy Savage. Now, there were many grudge matches spawned between famous wrestlers...why was this one the most poignant? There is but one answer that can sum it up appropriately: rap albums. You know things are serious when they hop out of the ring and into the recording studio. Ha, and you thought that east coast/west coast rivalries were intense! Try being slammed, figuratively and literally, by a dude with a platinum handlebar mustache and poor rhyming skills. OUCH.
After the rap hype died down and the "Macho Man" started making Slim Jim commercials instead, staged wrestling has faded a bit more into the background. However, like most things popular in the 90's, wrestling has been a bit delayed in reaching the beer-swilling Nascar crowd. Today, many unfortunate children have role models such as John Cena. John Cena is, of course, a former football player. Surprisingly he holds a college degree and seems far more intelligent than most professional wrestlers. Tragically, he has abandoned his degree training in favour of - you guessed it - bad acting gigs and hip-hop albums. He's even recorded a song called "Basic Thugonomics", which reinforces my hypothesis that you should never trust anyone with an incredibly large neck.
There is one type of wrestling that we approve of, which is fake wrestling (not to be confused with stage wrestling). Everyone with a scrappy bone in their body knows the fake wrestling trick. It's right up there with fake tickle fights and fake naps...you know that it's just a prelude to doin' it. And doin' it, as you know, is ALWAYS okay in our book. So go out there, champ, and instigate some fake wrasslin'. Just don't think it entitles you to a rap album.
With love and laboratories,
Izzy
Wrestling, whether "legitimate" or staged, seems to be quite popular in North America and other parts of the world. Whether you are a die-hard wrestling fan or mostly unfamiliar with the sport, you will surely have noticed one common thread - latent homosexuality.
Wrestling has been around for thousands of years. There are different styles attributed to China (dating back up to 4000 years), ancient Egypt, and many other cultures. The most infamous and still widely used form of wrestling is Greco-Roman wrestling. Traditionally, men would get naked, grease themselves up and roll around with/touch all up on other men (to put it simply). In modern times, Greco-Roman wrestling is still recognized as an Olympic sport; however, they are now required to wear a singlet that still disturbingly displays their packages. Not only are there massive amounts of latent homosexuality present, but there is even a class of wrestlers as young as 13 to age 15 called "schoolboys". I wouldn't be surprised if every spectator to that match had a pedo 'stache. And let's talk about how a wrestler can earn points for "exposure"...wow.
If this doesn't scream "Home in the Hamptons with your life partner, Ross" I don't know what does.
More along the lines of "real" wrestling, there is high school and college wrestling. What comes to mind besides male-on-male action are only a few things: projecting hyper masculine imagery, anorexia, ring worm, and cauliflower ear. I think that we can all agree that none of these are pleasant to begin with; when coupled with spandex they create a new disaster entirely. Most of the wrestlers I knew were originally football players who got bored in the off season, and who likely missed smacking other men on the bum. Although many former high school wrestlers seem to drop wrestling in college because they are supposedly not as serious about the sport, it is my theory that perhaps their ability to blame beer pong and flip cup for touching their fellow frat boys inappropriately is to blame. We've all heard horror stories about bro rape.
In the 90's, wrestling took an interesting turn. More of the general public took an interest in staged wrestling and the names of wrestlers were familiar to most households, or at least those with younger children and teenagers. The most fascinating of all rivalries was, undoubtedly, the war between "Hollywood" Hulk Hogan and "Macho Man" Randy Savage. Now, there were many grudge matches spawned between famous wrestlers...why was this one the most poignant? There is but one answer that can sum it up appropriately: rap albums. You know things are serious when they hop out of the ring and into the recording studio. Ha, and you thought that east coast/west coast rivalries were intense! Try being slammed, figuratively and literally, by a dude with a platinum handlebar mustache and poor rhyming skills. OUCH.
After the rap hype died down and the "Macho Man" started making Slim Jim commercials instead, staged wrestling has faded a bit more into the background. However, like most things popular in the 90's, wrestling has been a bit delayed in reaching the beer-swilling Nascar crowd. Today, many unfortunate children have role models such as John Cena. John Cena is, of course, a former football player. Surprisingly he holds a college degree and seems far more intelligent than most professional wrestlers. Tragically, he has abandoned his degree training in favour of - you guessed it - bad acting gigs and hip-hop albums. He's even recorded a song called "Basic Thugonomics", which reinforces my hypothesis that you should never trust anyone with an incredibly large neck.
There is one type of wrestling that we approve of, which is fake wrestling (not to be confused with stage wrestling). Everyone with a scrappy bone in their body knows the fake wrestling trick. It's right up there with fake tickle fights and fake naps...you know that it's just a prelude to doin' it. And doin' it, as you know, is ALWAYS okay in our book. So go out there, champ, and instigate some fake wrasslin'. Just don't think it entitles you to a rap album.
With love and laboratories,
Izzy
Friday, April 9, 2010
Incidents and accidents, hints and allegations.
Ginger: Ethan just tried to tell me that ravers and hippies are the same thing. UM THEY ARE NOT.
Izzy: Although they both follow the principles of peace, love, unity and respect, the subcultures are way different. Even the drugs used are different (i.e. more natural-leaning drugs vs. manufactured club drugs). One evolved due to social unrest and revolt, one evolved due to...techno.
**********
Izzy: Our friendship reminds me of the girls in Heavenly Creatures, minus the creepiness and matricide.
Ginger: I've never heard of that movie...but I feel like if matricide is involved I'll find it creepily entertaining.
Izzy: Definitely. I'm kinda glad I didn't watch it when I was a younger and much more angsty (or at least less self-controlled) girl.
Ginger: Lolz, I concur. My mother would probably have gottten more than liquid soap on her toothbrush.
Izzy: It's set in New Zealand and a true story. I mean, you can't entirely blame them...there really wasn't anything to do in 1950's NZ except fuck sheep and kill your mother.
**********
Izzy: I think Saddam Hussein was cloned, put into a sailor suit, and is now an actor on the Spanish Channel.
Ginger: It's quite plausible...what else are all his body doubles going to do now?
**********
Izzy: Ohh, East Clevland...I love the metal bars on the drive-thru windows. It's charming.
Ginger: It really gives you that sense of small town charm.
**********
Ginger: Ostraconophobia- the abhorrence of mollusks. Dinophobia- fear of whirlpools...sadly not a fear of dinosaurs. Cherophobia- fear of gaiety. Wtf? Hellenologophobia- fear of overly complex scientific terminology.
I found a phobia book at the library. It's very informative.
Izzy: Who, in their right mind, would abhor mollusks? Nobody we want to associate with.
**********
[Ginger's Adventures in Pittsburgh]
Ginger: So at work tonight, there was this old lady in a red velvet dress and big white fur coat coming to one of the parties we were hosting. As soon as I saw her I thought she was Santa and was depressed to find out she was just an old woman.
Ginger: Gandalf has returned! But he wears mom jeans. This is actual photographic proof that Gandalf really was a wolf shirt wearer...and I hope you can see the scarf is neon purple.
Ginger: I'm intrigued by cowboys not in their natural habitats. How did they come to be in the city? Why do they still feel the need to be cowboys? Is there a secret league of cowboy crimefighters and that's how they recognize each other? So many unanswered questions...
Ginger: JOE LEFT PORN UNDER OUR MATTRESS. I watched the first minute of the intro, the girls were especially busted and low budget.
Ginger: I love it when My Super Sweet 16 parties go wrong, it's almost as good as when I watch Teen Mom.
**********
[Home for the Holidays]
Ginger: How can something be out of stock online? Isn't there a factory full of children being paid 3 cents an hour to make sure that doesn't happen?
Izzy: Yeah, isn't that why we outsource? I mean otherwise we could pay people here to actually do their damn job.
Ginger: Completely unhelpful, Home Depot online. P.S., I'm getting my mom a drill for X-Mas.
Izzy: Are you getting her a girlfriend too?
Ginger: She can find one on her own, it's only a matter of time.
Izzy: I secretly wish she and Carol would get together.
Ginger: That would be SO ridiculous. But what about The Captain? He would be so lonely.
Izzy: He has like 8,000 kids to keep him company.
Ginger: True, and he can take to the high seas on a grand adventure and maybe pick up Charlotte Doyle.
Izzy: I got 2 things of lotion. One makes me smell like an Asian hooker (supposedly Japanese Cherry Blossom but my brother says they usually smell more like sweat, tears, and old chow mein) and the other makes me smell like an American stripper (is this vanilla? Or is it daddy issues, glitter, and GHB?).
Ginger: I've also smelled that Japanese Cherry whatever and definitely got a hint of hooker to round out the bouquet.
Ginger: We are totes soulmates. It's decided by the fates...I am sooo drunk but having an amazing time. I would pay hobos to pull you here on a bobsled.
Ginger: A summary of my last 24 hours: worked 12 hours, during which I met a new lez at work and invited out with me and Ethan; got out of work, went to multiple bars and a house party until I went home at 4 am with aforementioned new lez friend and our other lez friend and we all fall asleep at 6 am in our bed. Wake up, went to buy drugs and played My Little Pony with drug dealer's daughter. Now trying to find dinner...if this is any indication of how this year is going to play out I am PUMPED.
Izzy: Jealous! I went to work, got out at 6:20, kicked it at Jen's and hung out at their party until sadly I had to work again at 11 pm. Woke up in a good mood which Carol promptly shat upon. I am now on my way to Reading, PA to see Dex and get some sexin' (Lord knows I need it) and kick it. I'm not sure how I'm feeling about 2010 so far. Awkward. If the sex is fantastic perhaps I'll be more optimistic.
**********
Ginger: 60+ male on the T with a Miley Cyrus lanyard sticking out of his back pocket. Weird.
Izzy: At least he's open and proud of it. No, wait...still weird.
Ginger: I feel like he uses it as a luring device. It had crosses on it, yet he is ironically unholy.
Izzy: And ultra pedo-creepy.
Ginger: Totes. He had a weird pedo scraggly beard as well.
Izzy: Yuck. Mustache status?
Ginger: Trash stash.
**********
Izzy: Why I like dating the Hulk: I had sex mid-air (um, awesome) and later on quite literally got the panties ripped off of me. I was shocked and amazed...then very satisfied. High five?
Ginger: Double high-five. You might have just starred in a porno.
Izzy: If not I probably should have. It's like The Odyssey, bedroom edition. I have to be prepared to fend off krakens and sea witches and whatnot.
**********
Ginger: I'm sorry, but any boy that writes "kewl dewd" in swirly letters on his folder is gay, no matter how much he insists he has a girlfriend. This is also the same boy that talks to Garfield on MySpace.
I also think I'm going to start drawing vaginas on everything to combat all the penis graffiti. And sign them all C(I)A too. I saw the cutest thing today- a boy made a paper flower and gave it to another boy and then they hugged. Totes presh.
Izzy: Is the boy that gave or received that flower the kewl dewd who talks to Garfield? 'Cause he's super gay. Also, I fully support vagina graffiti.
Ginger: He is not one of the flower boys, which is good because they were both cute and he is scary. He also just bleached his hair and slicks it all back now, instead of the side back and top forward.
Izzy: He's obviously a Malfoy.
Ginger: Ew, at least Malfoy is cute. He's a poor unintelligent imitation.
Izzy: Like Malfoy's retarded brother they kept a secret, locked away in a dungeon somewhere.
Ginger: They would totally do that, if there was an ugly brother. But he would definitely be a squib.
Izzy: I doubt Garfield boy has any powers other than the uncanny ability to invoke my gag reflex.
Ginger: He's also really good at writing in swirly font.
**********
Izzy: Seriously, I think they need to ban annoying pregnant women from Facebook. I just hopped on and, thanks to my news feed, learned that this girl has now dilated to 1 cm. Idk why she thinks the interwebs wants to hear all about her cervix. I'm also going to extend that ban to annoying newlyweds who insist on talking about their new [boring] lives together. If this keeps up I will counteract and start describing, in great detail, the poops I take every morning.
Ginger: Facebook is irritating me right now, too many people overshare. Specifically in the cervical area. Besides, 1 cm is hardly anything to brag about.
Izzy: I know, right? When you're actually squeezing a baby out of your snatch maybe I'll be a little more impressed. Until then, shut up. Otherwise you may get an earful about either my poop or the ridiculous sex adventures I have. I feel either of those is more entertaining than hearing about cervix dilations or your husband's trip to Lowe's. Do not want.
Ginger: Nor do I care about home improvements, unpacking boxes, or doing laundry. Shut the fuck up about it. I would appreciate poop and/or sex stories, as long as they are not combined.
**********
Ginger: We should have our own True Life: I'm Way More Awesome than Everyone Around Me.
**********
Ginger: So a type of peach is called a blushing star...umm, vagina lingo much?
**********
Izzy: I had no real V-Day cards laying around so instead I used a party invite. For: Valentine's Day. Date: February 14th, 2010 (duh). Time: All fuckin' day, bitch! Where: My pants. RSVP: In my mouth?
Uh, yeah. I'm classy. I did write a sweet personal note on the back...plus I spent a ridic amount of time making the envelope look supafly.
**********
Ginger: Some guy with Pez dispensers in a pawn shop just referred to a low bid as "an insult to the Pez community". He was also in a velour suit and fedora. Named Joe from Vegas, obvs.
Izzy: Uh, that dude is awesome, where can I get a velour suit?
Ginger: I have a feeling they are all in his closet. He never left 1970, which is really a lot of Vegas charm, actually.
**********
Ginger: I got baked and then baked cookie brownie bars. I love it when I make grocery decisions based upon my extracurricular drug use desires.
**********
Ginger: There are a bunch of Jersey Shore t-shirts at Burlington. May or may not have made barfing noises as I walked by them.
**********
Izzy: I bought Stride Mega Mystery gum based on several factors: 1) It reminded me of the white Airheads 2) It's all bright and multi-coloured, vaguely reminiscent of tie-dye 3) the big question mark on the front makes me feel like it's something The Riddler would chew 4) My sense of curiosity is highly developed and I love a good mystery [sidenote: this is also why I attempt to sneak references to Clue into conversations as much as possible] and 5) I'm a big fan of alliterative titles. Am I a fab item finder or just a sucker for marketing? Or dare I suggest...both?
Ginger: Normally I would say sucker for marketing, but you have sound logic to back up your purchases. I would go with your highly developed sense of curiosity.
Izzy: The individual wrappers have multi-coloured question marks all over them. I feel like a kid who just got her first pack of Zebra Stripe. The gum itself is an odd, indistinguishable flavour but strangely tasty. I feel both awkward and excited and to tell you the truth I don't know what to do about it other than have a perplexed look on my face. I also have the desire to get packs for everyone I like and/or throw a murder mystery party.
**********
Izzy: I discovered a wet diaper (the baby's, obvs, not mine) from a mid-drive diaper change in my car garbage bag...my first thought was "eww" but was rapidly succeeded by "at whom can I chuck this?". I should not be around urine bombs such as this, it makes troublesome thoughts crop up in the teenage boy prankster part of my brain. If I ever get a hold of a Diaper Genie, all hell will break loose. I should probably be forbidden from having children...
Ginger: I foresee a lot of diaper wars when we are at the cottage...to pelt at each other and also unfortunate passersby.
Izzy: The ones for each other must be filled with pleasant things though. If there are passersby at our gnome cottage it means they got past the trolls at the bridge, the mega-intense bear traps, and the kraken. THREAT LEVEL MIDNIGHT! BRING OUT THE CATAPULTS!
**********
Ginger: I've started drinking vodka and sprite with sours mix and grenadine...I'm feeling fancy today.
Izzy: Grenadine is like bows, the addition of either automatically makes something fancier.
**********
[Dexter and Poindexter]
Ginger: Does he have horn-rimmed glasses? I picture him as a sexy nerd.
Izzy: No but he has a beautiful tan and deep, serious eyes. Very tall, dark and handsome. Not someone I'd picture as a Poindexter (aka the Clark Kent type).
Ginger: He sounds nice to look at.
Izzy: Indeed. And he's in camis, as is Dex. I'm in Dexter-type dude heaven right now.
Ginger: Are they fanning you and feeding you those sorbet and sticky rice balls we got at Trader Joe's? Because they should be. I feel that an investment in a chaise lounge would not be out of place here.
**********
Ginger: I just equated waring a strap-on to be a sort of power, like a sword...making awkward conversations awesome ftw.
**********
Izzy: Dex, in a strange nearly-Sean-Connery-but-not-quite voice: "Ah yes, touch it, feel it, it is yours! It is yours, Trebek!". Uh, what? Apparently I'm Alex Trebek. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited about it. Trebek is apparently the boner commander as well as a very suave Canadian quiz master.
**********
Izzy: Some rank insignia has a bunch of chevrons and stripes and what is apparently an exploding bomb (the round Mario Bros. type) in the middle. I keep insisting it's a pineapple to symbolize love and friendship and welcome. I think I'm single-handedly turning the Marine Corps into daisy chain making hippies, at least in my head, and making people mad with my unrelenting insistence that it is fruit and not a weapon.
***********
Ginger: You're getting married right now, I'm watching Monsterquest...my, how we've grown apart.
**********
Izzy: I just passed a street called Shrimp Lady Lane. Seriously.
Ginger: Find me a house there. I shall live on Shrimp Lady Lane until I perish.
**********
Ginger: Going to hell FOR SURE...but I think it's a Crip gang.
**********
Ginger: I got a massive nosebleed and bled all over the bed, him, and myself thus looking like a cannibal/serial killer. It was so sexy :-/ Not.
**********
Ginger: Your uterus being a habitat makes me think of rainforests or the tundra.
Izzy: I wish it was a bio-dome so Pauly Shore could go be totaly 90's there. Only miniature because I don't think an adult could fit comfortably.
Ginger: If Pauly Shore springs from your uterus you probably have bigger problems than just a baby...like how Pauly Shore got into there in the first place.
Izzy: Harry Potter lives there too and said, "Accio miniature Pauly Shore!".
**********
Ginger: Um, beeteedub, I should not be explaining what's in a gin and tonic on day 23 of 28 in my bartending class. The same kid also asked me if vodka was in a shot of tequila. I'm actually rather proud I haven't backhanded him yet.
Srsly. My patience is waning...oh, and now he asked what was in a jack and coke. He might actually be a supergenius, sent to test my patience...or, like, Jesus. didn't he do sneaky shit like that?
**********
Ginger: So this girl in my class got grounded for being on the phone after 8 pm. She's 23. Cut. The. Cord. How messed up is that? She needs to a) Grow up and b) Slap her mother in the face.
**********
Izzy: Our song should be Always by Erasure. And by "our song" I mean you and me, not me and Dex.
Ginger: It's a much more pressing matter to choose our song than one with your husband.
Clearly this song and video (which you may recognize from Robot Unicorn Attack, one of the best flash games of all time) both represent our friendship quite well:
Izzy: Although they both follow the principles of peace, love, unity and respect, the subcultures are way different. Even the drugs used are different (i.e. more natural-leaning drugs vs. manufactured club drugs). One evolved due to social unrest and revolt, one evolved due to...techno.
**********
Izzy: Our friendship reminds me of the girls in Heavenly Creatures, minus the creepiness and matricide.
Ginger: I've never heard of that movie...but I feel like if matricide is involved I'll find it creepily entertaining.
Izzy: Definitely. I'm kinda glad I didn't watch it when I was a younger and much more angsty (or at least less self-controlled) girl.
Ginger: Lolz, I concur. My mother would probably have gottten more than liquid soap on her toothbrush.
Izzy: It's set in New Zealand and a true story. I mean, you can't entirely blame them...there really wasn't anything to do in 1950's NZ except fuck sheep and kill your mother.
**********
Izzy: I think Saddam Hussein was cloned, put into a sailor suit, and is now an actor on the Spanish Channel.
Ginger: It's quite plausible...what else are all his body doubles going to do now?
**********
Izzy: Ohh, East Clevland...I love the metal bars on the drive-thru windows. It's charming.
Ginger: It really gives you that sense of small town charm.
**********
Ginger: Ostraconophobia- the abhorrence of mollusks. Dinophobia- fear of whirlpools...sadly not a fear of dinosaurs. Cherophobia- fear of gaiety. Wtf? Hellenologophobia- fear of overly complex scientific terminology.
I found a phobia book at the library. It's very informative.
Izzy: Who, in their right mind, would abhor mollusks? Nobody we want to associate with.
**********
[Ginger's Adventures in Pittsburgh]
Ginger: So at work tonight, there was this old lady in a red velvet dress and big white fur coat coming to one of the parties we were hosting. As soon as I saw her I thought she was Santa and was depressed to find out she was just an old woman.
Ginger: Gandalf has returned! But he wears mom jeans. This is actual photographic proof that Gandalf really was a wolf shirt wearer...and I hope you can see the scarf is neon purple.
Ginger: I'm intrigued by cowboys not in their natural habitats. How did they come to be in the city? Why do they still feel the need to be cowboys? Is there a secret league of cowboy crimefighters and that's how they recognize each other? So many unanswered questions...
Ginger: JOE LEFT PORN UNDER OUR MATTRESS. I watched the first minute of the intro, the girls were especially busted and low budget.
Ginger: I love it when My Super Sweet 16 parties go wrong, it's almost as good as when I watch Teen Mom.
**********
[Home for the Holidays]
Ginger: How can something be out of stock online? Isn't there a factory full of children being paid 3 cents an hour to make sure that doesn't happen?
Izzy: Yeah, isn't that why we outsource? I mean otherwise we could pay people here to actually do their damn job.
Ginger: Completely unhelpful, Home Depot online. P.S., I'm getting my mom a drill for X-Mas.
Izzy: Are you getting her a girlfriend too?
Ginger: She can find one on her own, it's only a matter of time.
Izzy: I secretly wish she and Carol would get together.
Ginger: That would be SO ridiculous. But what about The Captain? He would be so lonely.
Izzy: He has like 8,000 kids to keep him company.
Ginger: True, and he can take to the high seas on a grand adventure and maybe pick up Charlotte Doyle.
Izzy: I got 2 things of lotion. One makes me smell like an Asian hooker (supposedly Japanese Cherry Blossom but my brother says they usually smell more like sweat, tears, and old chow mein) and the other makes me smell like an American stripper (is this vanilla? Or is it daddy issues, glitter, and GHB?).
Ginger: I've also smelled that Japanese Cherry whatever and definitely got a hint of hooker to round out the bouquet.
Ginger: We are totes soulmates. It's decided by the fates...I am sooo drunk but having an amazing time. I would pay hobos to pull you here on a bobsled.
Ginger: A summary of my last 24 hours: worked 12 hours, during which I met a new lez at work and invited out with me and Ethan; got out of work, went to multiple bars and a house party until I went home at 4 am with aforementioned new lez friend and our other lez friend and we all fall asleep at 6 am in our bed. Wake up, went to buy drugs and played My Little Pony with drug dealer's daughter. Now trying to find dinner...if this is any indication of how this year is going to play out I am PUMPED.
Izzy: Jealous! I went to work, got out at 6:20, kicked it at Jen's and hung out at their party until sadly I had to work again at 11 pm. Woke up in a good mood which Carol promptly shat upon. I am now on my way to Reading, PA to see Dex and get some sexin' (Lord knows I need it) and kick it. I'm not sure how I'm feeling about 2010 so far. Awkward. If the sex is fantastic perhaps I'll be more optimistic.
**********
Ginger: 60+ male on the T with a Miley Cyrus lanyard sticking out of his back pocket. Weird.
Izzy: At least he's open and proud of it. No, wait...still weird.
Ginger: I feel like he uses it as a luring device. It had crosses on it, yet he is ironically unholy.
Izzy: And ultra pedo-creepy.
Ginger: Totes. He had a weird pedo scraggly beard as well.
Izzy: Yuck. Mustache status?
Ginger: Trash stash.
**********
Izzy: Why I like dating the Hulk: I had sex mid-air (um, awesome) and later on quite literally got the panties ripped off of me. I was shocked and amazed...then very satisfied. High five?
Ginger: Double high-five. You might have just starred in a porno.
Izzy: If not I probably should have. It's like The Odyssey, bedroom edition. I have to be prepared to fend off krakens and sea witches and whatnot.
**********
Ginger: I'm sorry, but any boy that writes "kewl dewd" in swirly letters on his folder is gay, no matter how much he insists he has a girlfriend. This is also the same boy that talks to Garfield on MySpace.
I also think I'm going to start drawing vaginas on everything to combat all the penis graffiti. And sign them all C(I)A too. I saw the cutest thing today- a boy made a paper flower and gave it to another boy and then they hugged. Totes presh.
Izzy: Is the boy that gave or received that flower the kewl dewd who talks to Garfield? 'Cause he's super gay. Also, I fully support vagina graffiti.
Ginger: He is not one of the flower boys, which is good because they were both cute and he is scary. He also just bleached his hair and slicks it all back now, instead of the side back and top forward.
Izzy: He's obviously a Malfoy.
Ginger: Ew, at least Malfoy is cute. He's a poor unintelligent imitation.
Izzy: Like Malfoy's retarded brother they kept a secret, locked away in a dungeon somewhere.
Ginger: They would totally do that, if there was an ugly brother. But he would definitely be a squib.
Izzy: I doubt Garfield boy has any powers other than the uncanny ability to invoke my gag reflex.
Ginger: He's also really good at writing in swirly font.
**********
Izzy: Seriously, I think they need to ban annoying pregnant women from Facebook. I just hopped on and, thanks to my news feed, learned that this girl has now dilated to 1 cm. Idk why she thinks the interwebs wants to hear all about her cervix. I'm also going to extend that ban to annoying newlyweds who insist on talking about their new [boring] lives together. If this keeps up I will counteract and start describing, in great detail, the poops I take every morning.
Ginger: Facebook is irritating me right now, too many people overshare. Specifically in the cervical area. Besides, 1 cm is hardly anything to brag about.
Izzy: I know, right? When you're actually squeezing a baby out of your snatch maybe I'll be a little more impressed. Until then, shut up. Otherwise you may get an earful about either my poop or the ridiculous sex adventures I have. I feel either of those is more entertaining than hearing about cervix dilations or your husband's trip to Lowe's. Do not want.
Ginger: Nor do I care about home improvements, unpacking boxes, or doing laundry. Shut the fuck up about it. I would appreciate poop and/or sex stories, as long as they are not combined.
**********
Ginger: We should have our own True Life: I'm Way More Awesome than Everyone Around Me.
**********
Ginger: So a type of peach is called a blushing star...umm, vagina lingo much?
**********
Izzy: I had no real V-Day cards laying around so instead I used a party invite. For: Valentine's Day. Date: February 14th, 2010 (duh). Time: All fuckin' day, bitch! Where: My pants. RSVP: In my mouth?
Uh, yeah. I'm classy. I did write a sweet personal note on the back...plus I spent a ridic amount of time making the envelope look supafly.
**********
Ginger: Some guy with Pez dispensers in a pawn shop just referred to a low bid as "an insult to the Pez community". He was also in a velour suit and fedora. Named Joe from Vegas, obvs.
Izzy: Uh, that dude is awesome, where can I get a velour suit?
Ginger: I have a feeling they are all in his closet. He never left 1970, which is really a lot of Vegas charm, actually.
**********
Ginger: I got baked and then baked cookie brownie bars. I love it when I make grocery decisions based upon my extracurricular drug use desires.
**********
Ginger: There are a bunch of Jersey Shore t-shirts at Burlington. May or may not have made barfing noises as I walked by them.
**********
Izzy: I bought Stride Mega Mystery gum based on several factors: 1) It reminded me of the white Airheads 2) It's all bright and multi-coloured, vaguely reminiscent of tie-dye 3) the big question mark on the front makes me feel like it's something The Riddler would chew 4) My sense of curiosity is highly developed and I love a good mystery [sidenote: this is also why I attempt to sneak references to Clue into conversations as much as possible] and 5) I'm a big fan of alliterative titles. Am I a fab item finder or just a sucker for marketing? Or dare I suggest...both?
Ginger: Normally I would say sucker for marketing, but you have sound logic to back up your purchases. I would go with your highly developed sense of curiosity.
Izzy: The individual wrappers have multi-coloured question marks all over them. I feel like a kid who just got her first pack of Zebra Stripe. The gum itself is an odd, indistinguishable flavour but strangely tasty. I feel both awkward and excited and to tell you the truth I don't know what to do about it other than have a perplexed look on my face. I also have the desire to get packs for everyone I like and/or throw a murder mystery party.
**********
Izzy: I discovered a wet diaper (the baby's, obvs, not mine) from a mid-drive diaper change in my car garbage bag...my first thought was "eww" but was rapidly succeeded by "at whom can I chuck this?". I should not be around urine bombs such as this, it makes troublesome thoughts crop up in the teenage boy prankster part of my brain. If I ever get a hold of a Diaper Genie, all hell will break loose. I should probably be forbidden from having children...
Ginger: I foresee a lot of diaper wars when we are at the cottage...to pelt at each other and also unfortunate passersby.
Izzy: The ones for each other must be filled with pleasant things though. If there are passersby at our gnome cottage it means they got past the trolls at the bridge, the mega-intense bear traps, and the kraken. THREAT LEVEL MIDNIGHT! BRING OUT THE CATAPULTS!
**********
Ginger: I've started drinking vodka and sprite with sours mix and grenadine...I'm feeling fancy today.
Izzy: Grenadine is like bows, the addition of either automatically makes something fancier.
**********
[Dexter and Poindexter]
Ginger: Does he have horn-rimmed glasses? I picture him as a sexy nerd.
Izzy: No but he has a beautiful tan and deep, serious eyes. Very tall, dark and handsome. Not someone I'd picture as a Poindexter (aka the Clark Kent type).
Ginger: He sounds nice to look at.
Izzy: Indeed. And he's in camis, as is Dex. I'm in Dexter-type dude heaven right now.
Ginger: Are they fanning you and feeding you those sorbet and sticky rice balls we got at Trader Joe's? Because they should be. I feel that an investment in a chaise lounge would not be out of place here.
**********
Ginger: I just equated waring a strap-on to be a sort of power, like a sword...making awkward conversations awesome ftw.
**********
Izzy: Dex, in a strange nearly-Sean-Connery-but-not-quite voice: "Ah yes, touch it, feel it, it is yours! It is yours, Trebek!". Uh, what? Apparently I'm Alex Trebek. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited about it. Trebek is apparently the boner commander as well as a very suave Canadian quiz master.
**********
Izzy: Some rank insignia has a bunch of chevrons and stripes and what is apparently an exploding bomb (the round Mario Bros. type) in the middle. I keep insisting it's a pineapple to symbolize love and friendship and welcome. I think I'm single-handedly turning the Marine Corps into daisy chain making hippies, at least in my head, and making people mad with my unrelenting insistence that it is fruit and not a weapon.
***********
Ginger: You're getting married right now, I'm watching Monsterquest...my, how we've grown apart.
**********
Izzy: I just passed a street called Shrimp Lady Lane. Seriously.
Ginger: Find me a house there. I shall live on Shrimp Lady Lane until I perish.
**********
**********
Ginger: I got a massive nosebleed and bled all over the bed, him, and myself thus looking like a cannibal/serial killer. It was so sexy :-/ Not.
**********
Ginger: Your uterus being a habitat makes me think of rainforests or the tundra.
Izzy: I wish it was a bio-dome so Pauly Shore could go be totaly 90's there. Only miniature because I don't think an adult could fit comfortably.
Ginger: If Pauly Shore springs from your uterus you probably have bigger problems than just a baby...like how Pauly Shore got into there in the first place.
Izzy: Harry Potter lives there too and said, "Accio miniature Pauly Shore!".
**********
Ginger: Um, beeteedub, I should not be explaining what's in a gin and tonic on day 23 of 28 in my bartending class. The same kid also asked me if vodka was in a shot of tequila. I'm actually rather proud I haven't backhanded him yet.
Srsly. My patience is waning...oh, and now he asked what was in a jack and coke. He might actually be a supergenius, sent to test my patience...or, like, Jesus. didn't he do sneaky shit like that?
**********
Ginger: So this girl in my class got grounded for being on the phone after 8 pm. She's 23. Cut. The. Cord. How messed up is that? She needs to a) Grow up and b) Slap her mother in the face.
**********
Izzy: Our song should be Always by Erasure. And by "our song" I mean you and me, not me and Dex.
Ginger: It's a much more pressing matter to choose our song than one with your husband.
Clearly this song and video (which you may recognize from Robot Unicorn Attack, one of the best flash games of all time) both represent our friendship quite well:
Monday, March 8, 2010
Superswarms. Possible answer to the impending zombie invasion?
So, whilst watching the Discovery Channel last night, a show about superswarms came on. Essentially, the group experiences the ultimate groupthink and act as one unit. Fire ants, fish, bees, and starlings all have the ability to acutely sense their neighbors and can react fast enough to move as a team. This helps against predators, and this got me thinking. Humans are the top of the food chain when not in the wilderness or a shark tank or something...or a zombie invasion. Just like how ants can experience groupthink and individual thought at the same time, if humans could do this we would stand a much better chance at surviving long-term against the zombie race. Ants do really sweet shit like form a giant ant raft during a flood, and float to safety; or let off pheremones so when moving a twig, they can coordinate their pushing and pulling. Now, the sweet raft idea would not work because the little ants on the bottom layer can still breathe, but if we were able to work as a team there would be no trouble building barricades and walling off the roving bands of brain-eaters.
Now, I brought up this theory with my friend in class and he disagrees with my theory because he says that a humans ability to think as an individual and forage and plan are the only reasons that we can survive against attacking zombies. He believes individualism is the key to survival.
But, I suppose at the end of the day we should really just be glad that zombies can't superswarm, because that would be totally fucking scary.
Peace and machetes,
Ginger
Now, I brought up this theory with my friend in class and he disagrees with my theory because he says that a humans ability to think as an individual and forage and plan are the only reasons that we can survive against attacking zombies. He believes individualism is the key to survival.
But, I suppose at the end of the day we should really just be glad that zombies can't superswarm, because that would be totally fucking scary.
Peace and machetes,
Ginger
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Year Two Thousand and Ten, Anno Domini
We sincerely apologize for not updating you, the American public, on the status of fux to be delegated in the [relatively new] year of 2010. Let it be known that:
FUX ARE TO BE POSTPONED INDEFINITELY.
With besties and butternut squash,
Izzy and Ginge
FUX ARE TO BE POSTPONED INDEFINITELY.
With besties and butternut squash,
Izzy and Ginge
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Cottages and communes.
Ginger: I just made a pun using pho. We're eating it for lunch, and I said, "I'll take mine home, pho later!"
**********
Izzy: Bill has Purple Rain on vinyl.
Ginger: Is Chocolate Rain on the other side?
**********
Ginger: I had an awful day today and wish we could snuggle and smoke a bowl under my electric blanket.
Izzy: Me too, watching Saved by the Bell. We watched X-Files last night (Adrian just got the 4th season) and it made me miss you terribly.
Ginger: It's just not the same watching it in Pitt than it was on that sketchy pulldown bed.
Izzy: I loved that bed.
Ginger: Me too...when it had sheets on and I couldn't see the sex and murder stains.
Izzy: Haha indeed, hopefully those two things didn't happen simultaneously.
Ginger: My apartment was most likely the set of a snuff film.
**********
Ginger: I wish you could shadow me sooo bad! PCI wouldn't know what hit them.
Izzy: We'd intellect-fuck them so hard they wouldn't walk right for weeks.
**********
Ginger: I love being a pain...it's really entertaining for me.
Izzy: Me too, I love to instigate. Apparently it gets my pants stolen though.
Ginger: That's really not the worst thing that could happen.
Izzy: One day I'm going to wake up and find myself naked and in a tree in Belize.Ginger: I hear they have great food and salsa dancing...
**********
Izzy: I think that if we really had our gnome cottage I would never need anything else out of life. I wish we lived in a fairy tale.
Ginger: Slash action comic. Really though, if I got to live in the gnome cottage forever I would be quite happy.
**********
Izzy: I just found a yarn called "riot eyelash", and one in a colour called "yummy white". I lol'd.
**********
Ginger: The phrase "we're hungering after Jesus" was just used by a 12-year-old boy with a rat tail. Named Levi.
Izzy: Sounds like Children of the Corn crossed with the legion of undead. Zombies invade heaven...new movie idea?
Ginger: As long as there are plenty of where we're floating around with sparkly wings.
Izzy: Shooting at white trash zombies with our ray guns.
Ginger: Can God drive over them in a tank?
Izzy: YES.
**********
Ginger: I wish we could travel on giant hopping bunnies.
Izzy: That could be painful unless we get cushiony saddles to prevent impact damage to our hoo-has. I might like a giant kangaroo that could put me in its pouch.
Ginger: That would be so velvety! And excellent for overnight travel.
Izzy: I always wondered...when marsupials get knocked up does their little pouch thing seal up? I find the marsupial birth process to be a bit confusing.
Ginger: As do I. Is the baby actually born out of the pouch? Or does it just kind of grow in there? I mean, they're like super tiny, right? Like a grain of rice.
Izzy: Apparently they can weigh as little as 0.03 ounces at birth. They are born (presumably out of the roo's hoo-ha) and then crawl into the pouch where they keep on nursing (so, do kangaroos have nipples in their pouches?) and developing. They stay in there and don't leave for like 8 months to a year I think. Marsupials are so fucking weird.
Ginger: Seriously weird. I wonder if they're ever mistaken for bugs?
Izzy: The baby roos?
Ginger: Yeah, and like scratched off.
Izzy: Hahaha that would suck!
Ginger: Right? Kangaroos are sooo strange.
Izzy: I think I'd be a good kangaroo because I like to stash things, jump around, and kick people in the chest.
**********
Izzy: Arson, death, prostitution, affairs...why don't I watch Melrose Place?
**********
[The Virtues of the Gnome Cottage]
Izzy: I want a sailor outfit. I am also waiting for the day when we're out traveling and exploring, and stumble across a location that we both instantly know is meant to be the gnome cottage. That's how it goes in my head...a joyous discovery.
Ginger: Mine too...like we wander upon a lake, and decide we need to stay and build the cottage.
Izzy: In my head the cottage is on a hill with a stone path (surrounded by lots of wildflowers) going down to the lake (on the right side if you're facing the front of the cottage) where our ship is waiting and there are lots of willow trees. On the left of the cottage is our hangar. Lots of open meadows around but our cottage is shaded by tall trees, and we have a giant mushroom in the front to sit and read under on nice days with a light breeze and sunshine!
Ginger: That's almost exactly my picturing! Except the hill part, but literally identical. It's fate...we must find this place.
Izzy: It's only a small hill, barely able to be classified as a hill, and a short distance to the lake :) Ohhh and lots of creeping ivy or that hanging moss stuff on the cottage to add charm and a feeling of home. And of course a big chimney for our warm fireplace to sit in front of with hot cocoa in the winter. Lots of marshmallows, of course.
Ginger: Can we have a hot chocolate room with brown walls and big white mushy bean bags as furniture?
Izzy: Hahaha that'd be so cute! We can make the walls look like you're inside a fun mug. It should be round!
Ginger: Yes! We can have a turret and that can be the top room.
Izzy: Or it can be a treehouse! Oooh so many ideas...I want a trampoline and a moon bounce in the meadow or in the backyard somewhere, and a tire swing off of one of the willows.
Ginger: We can also have a tire swing into the lake!
Izzy: I was picturing it as such :)
Ginger: -sigh- This gnome cottage will be the crowning achievement of my life.
Izzy: Indeed. I'll never want to leave and go back to the "real" world.
Ginger: Fuck that. We can sustain ourselves and take drugs for days at a time.
Izzy: Life plan: made.
**********
Ginger: Ethan's mom got me a Snuggie for Christmas. Thought you should be kept informed. I hope it's the Weezer one. Perhaps we can set it aflame?
Izzy: It's probably fireproof. And made out of dragon scales and evil.
Ginger: I think those meet the California guidelines for flammable materials.
**********
Izzy: Our cool factor is augmented when we're together...we're obviously meant to be a duo. I mean, the kids from Captain Planet were cool on their own but together they formed a mega earth-friendly crime-fighting blue-green dude. That's kind of what I equate us to. On that note we seriously need to get sweet power rings.
Ginger: Power rings would definitely enhance our power while together. I think they should also match our jet packs and hot air balloons.
Izzy: Or they can be mood rings, usually fixed on whatever colour is assigned to AWESOME.
**********
Izzy: Every time I go to NC my obvious priority is to get laid by a man who adores me. Aka anyone with eyes and a brain, what upppp!
**********
Ginger: Addie's birthday is going to be insaaane (in the membrane, obvs).
Izzy: Cypress Hill reference ftw.
**********
Ginger: If I just used the term "sexy getaway", I have been reading Cosmo too much.
Izzy: It was kind of awesome and in my head I pictured something very drug store romance novel-esque, Fabio included.
**********
Izzy: We have a special bond and I think it confuses other people, like the smell of camels does to horses.
**********
Izzy: I wish I was Rafiki. Then I could hold baby lions up on clilffs, smack people with my staff, and wipe my glowy cave paint berry juice on peoples' foreheads without consequence.
Ginger: I'm sure we could still do that, but we'd have to move to the free people commune in northern California.
Izzy: Do they allow you to hit people with sticks? That might still be unacceptable. I do enjoy communes though.
Ginger: I think if it was for a life-changing experience to re-define who you are as a person, like it was for Simba, it would be.
**********
Ginger: Sitting next to a boy putting "lumberjack" on his résumé. Thanks, Pennsylvania. Also, bought drugs in class while the teacher was out of the room. The only good PCI does for me. My day has been fairly eventful thus far.
**********
[On hilljacks at Wal-Mart]
Ginger: Is her brother the union man from Wife Swap?
Izzy: I wouldn't doubt it. Maybe her close cousin...but in those sorts of families, everyone's a close cousin.
Ginger: Nice use of double entendre, bestie.
**********
[Upon spying a very awful fashion choice]
Ginger: Please gaze upon this unfortunate equestrian coat with me.
Izzy: Hahahahaha ewwww.
Ginger: On a giiiiant lez too. The poor unfortunate fashion victims I prey upon using Port Authority Transportation...
Monday, November 23, 2009
A brief but important warning.
Attn: American Public
It has come to light that going out dancing with one's friends is not nearly as safe as was previously suspected. Have you been thinking that it'd be nice to throw on your sluttiest top, grab your girlfriends, and head to the club for some martinis, rufies, and some music you can awkwardly shake your ass to?
THINK AGAIN.
According to a recently popular song, there have been instances of club personnel having to call 9-1-1 due to raging fires on the dance floor. Another song states that the dance floor must be evacuated due to risk of infection by sound. It is rumoured that there have even been deaths by sick beats. Is this a mass conspiracy designed to destroy the morale of the American people, or perhaps an act of terrorism by anti-dancing cult members (founded under the principles of the dad from Footloose)? It's very possible.
Currently, there are investigations into the matter. For the time being, it is suggested that you either dance in your own living rooms in your underwear, or perhaps visit piano bars and wine bars instead. It has been stated that country western/line dancing bars are safety zones as well, but the author of this warning would like to interject and say that if you genuinely wish to visit these establishments, you should promptly go jump into shark-infested waters instead.
Be on the lookout, dear readers, and dance safely.
With love and lamé,
Isabella "Izzy" St. James
It has come to light that going out dancing with one's friends is not nearly as safe as was previously suspected. Have you been thinking that it'd be nice to throw on your sluttiest top, grab your girlfriends, and head to the club for some martinis, rufies, and some music you can awkwardly shake your ass to?
THINK AGAIN.
According to a recently popular song, there have been instances of club personnel having to call 9-1-1 due to raging fires on the dance floor. Another song states that the dance floor must be evacuated due to risk of infection by sound. It is rumoured that there have even been deaths by sick beats. Is this a mass conspiracy designed to destroy the morale of the American people, or perhaps an act of terrorism by anti-dancing cult members (founded under the principles of the dad from Footloose)? It's very possible.
Currently, there are investigations into the matter. For the time being, it is suggested that you either dance in your own living rooms in your underwear, or perhaps visit piano bars and wine bars instead. It has been stated that country western/line dancing bars are safety zones as well, but the author of this warning would like to interject and say that if you genuinely wish to visit these establishments, you should promptly go jump into shark-infested waters instead.
Be on the lookout, dear readers, and dance safely.
With love and lamé,
Isabella "Izzy" St. James
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A seriously needed update of ridiculousness.
Izzy: You know what boredom and curiosity lead to? Nair-ing your arm hair off. On the bright side, they are as soft as a baby's bottom, minus the Desitin and poo remnants.
Ginger: I would hope you don't have poo remnants amidst your arm hairs.
Izzy: Nice. And there are no arm hairs. Oddly I kind of like it...
Ginger: I would understand...who would dislike velvety soft hairless forearms?
Izzy: Romanians?
Ginger: Now ask yourself, are Romanians really people?
Izzy: They're gypsies. I'm jealous, I want to be a gypsy. Maybe that's why I am mildly appalled that I Nair-ed my arms.
Ginger: I spent most of my childhood pretending to be/wishing I was a gypsy.
Izzy: As did I, praying that if I ever was, that I'd end up with someone less deformed than Quasimodo. I wasn't into hunchbacked Frenchmen *shrugs*. Plus, as I recall, he had really hairy forearms. I could never be, we're too different.
Ginger: Who is? Also, I was so not okay with their height and age difference. Q was at least 35. He does have the in with talking gargoyles though...that's a definite perk.
Izzy: Don't hate on height differences lol. I'm an amazon. I feel like I need to be beating on my armoured chest plate and spearing things on the reg.
Ginger: And yet I usually see you frolicking and taking drugs...spearing things could be your day job I guess.
Izzy: I so tend to frolic quite a bit, don't I? Hmm. I'm going to need to find something to do for the upcoming winter. Frolicking in the snow leads to disaster and sore bums.
**********
[On Godspell]
Ginger: Have you seen Godspell? Despite religious undertones (because it's about Jesus' life or something), I desperately want to frolic with the hippies and wear a knitting bag as a hat.
Izzy: Who do you think I am? Of course I've seen Godspell, I love hippies and went to a Catholic school. And now I have "Day by Day" stuck in my head. Thanks, you camel crotch.
Ginger: Of course, I have no idea why I ever even had doubts...I really want it on DVD, I would watch it all the time.Izzy: We can watch it together, repeatedly, then re-enact it. Ethan is going to hate us.
Ginger: He will, if not already. yesterday he told me he feels like I'd rather talk to you than do him :( So not true...I enjoy both!
Izzy: We can't help it if our conversations are mentally orgasmic. Just tell him we're getting all the bases covered.
Ginger: Lolz, that's good reasoning. When do I get to see yooooou?
Izzy: Hopefully soon. If I get laid I want to tell you about it in person, there are bound to be a lot of necessary hand gestures to accompany the conversation.
Ginger: Obvs, as any good conversation about getting laid has.
Izzy: Agreed. I mean, between that and facial expression it's almost not even worth talking about any other way.
**********
Izzy: So I was thinking...is jizz the consistency that it is because proteins coagulate when heated (thanks, hospitality management)?
Ginger: I think it's because of the lack of fluid with the proteins. So, we're both right?
**********
Izzy: If I have a predeliction for blowjobs, can I save time an just say I have a predicklicktion?
Ginger: I think so...but I think only the most intellectual (aka ballers like us) will find it humorous.
Izzy: It's a bit of a mouthful. Pun intended.
**********
Ginger: Come to my windooow, I'll be home soo-oon. Crawl insiide, wait by the light of the moo-oon.
Izzy: That made my life complete.
**********
Ginger: There is an unimpressed looking little puppy in a carrier on the T. It's terribly adorable.
Izzy: Steal it.
Ginger: I totally would, but it's in the lap of I think Zeus himself...if Zeus were in any way a black man.
**********
Ginger: Somebody just asked if you were "my girl". I felt like saying yes just for funsies.
Izzy: Lol who was it?
Ginger: This kid in my class...I was on your Facebook and he asked.
Izzy: You should tell him that we're in love and going to raise camels together.
Ginger: Egads! So many possibilities, sadly I was honest. I would like to raise camels with you, though. Coincidentally, my post to you concerned camels.
**********
[Ginger's Random Tangents]
Ginger: Ethan bet a boy ten dollars he wouldn't eat a cricket in the alley, and he did but then gave the money back. He essentially at a cricket for funsies. Boys. Are. So. Weird.
Ginger: I think I'm gonna do a blog about my ideal wedding- aka an excuse to have acrobats and firedancers riding elephants.
Ginger: Jailbait's the best bait.
Ginger: Just made a dramatic exit that you would be proud of...I announced I had a wang? Kicked three chairs and a trashcan, and threw the door open and yelled, "peace suckas!".
Ginger: WHO CAN'T PRONOUNCE CANCUN? Answer: my classmates. FML. This kid is presenting to the calss and was like "I can't pronounce this Mexican place...C-a-n-c-u-n" and then he didn't realize it was in Mexico. He thought it was an American city.
Ginger: We're so in sync we're almost N*Sync.
Ginger: I feel like G wouldn't understand Xanadu unless she was on E.
Ginger: I love geekin' out :) Both with drugs and with knowledge.
**********
[On being hit on by creeps.]
Ginger: Ahahahaha...you should have said "does it look like I like boys?" and they shut up. It's very helpful for male creepers. It does, however, tend to attract female ones. It's worth it, though, I personally feel.
--Izzy's responses to this portion are undocumented--
Ginger: What did he say after you answered? P.S., I heard this girl talking to her friend and was like "and the stupid bitch got 'army girl' tattooed as a tramp stamp and he's gonna dump her next week anyway, and everyone knows but no one said anything."
Ginger: Oooh, what a draw a carwash has vs. the Marines...you're making the wrong decision, bestie. I'm obligated to tell you to think about this offer a little more instead of making a rash decision.
***********
Izzy: I'm in a bar in South Carolina and someone just segued from Happy Birthday into the national anthem...then started beat boxing it.
Ginger: Is that the Hot Cross Buns of beat boxing, everyone can do it?
**********
Izzy: You know how people usually write things like "wash me" on the back of dirty semi trucks? Just saw something that trumps that- this truck said "bare hooters". Seriously. I almost wish it had been spelled wrong so it could say bear hooters...even better.
**********
Izzy: Soo, you're not really supposed to have female visitor's in the men's barracks. Naturally I had to have sex there. I love screwing around with government properties...good thing I'm not a sponsored nuclear physicist or something.
**********
Izzy: I got weird looks at the BP in Virginia and the girl who sold me cigs talked to me like I'm an imbecile even though she looked like she had killed brain cells in abundance. Naturally I dropped a bomb in their bathroom.
Ginger: Always a good defense. And it's covertly vindictive enough not to look planned.
Izzy: The gift shop was full of hats and other things sporting horses, Nascar, Confederate flags, camo, and hunting shit. Quite frankly I think droppin' a deuce improved the atmosphere.
Ginger: It would have improved the gift shop if you had pooed on some of the Nascar memorabilia.
Izzy: Agreed but if I sneaked it back to the bathroom they might think I'm a thief. I'd end up in jail with dudes named Bubba and Hoss. I try to avoid that.
Ginger: Especially Hoss. He is certainly not a friendly gent. You could also have dropped trou inside the store, but most likely with the same results.**********
Izzy: 1 mile to a place called Poplar Camp...it invoked visions of trees enjoying kayaking and employing the buddy system.
Ginger: Hey man, even Batman uses the buddy system.
**********
Izzy: Wood Education and Resource Center...good game, West Virginia.
**********
Ginger: I like women who braid their hair and stick it through the hole in the back of their ball cap like it's Beach Day '95.
Izzy: YES. Especially when they wear cobalt blue nylon shorts and shirts with the sleeves ripped off.
Ginger: And a swishy jacket in case it gets chilly. And big plastic sunglasses.
Izzy: With the neon arms, preferably green, orange, or the occasional pink. Wind breaker track suits for when it's chilly because you know those shorts are light and airy!
Ginger: Those track pants are also for early morning jobs with ankle weights.
**********
[On seeking revenge.]
Ginger: can I send you a shield of mind bullets and sunshine to keep the bad stuff away? Heard from dickface yet?
Ginger: Well, good then. You can meet me and bring the baseball bats wrapped in viper fangs. I got your back, boo. I'm gonna fill the shot glass full of hemlock and shoot it through a cannon at him.
Izzy: Haha. Deadly nightshade! <3
Ginger: I feel that this plan has no flaws.
Izzy: Agreed. Where are we going to get a cannon?
Ginger: The barn where we keep out mini-horse cavalry and jetpacks.
Izzy: Can we have a secret underground lair to keep weaponry and captives?
Ginger: Duh, that's what the retina-scan elevator is for by the tackle shed.
**********
Ginger: We could so look like hot mechanics and give all the boys and girls boners.
**********
Izzy: I have somehow managed to connect my genetic heritage to Vikings (thanks to Wikipedia, source of all truth and enlightenment). The best part about it? I'm not even high.
Ginger: well anyone who is blond or redheaded is descended from Vikings too. Yeah Vikes! Bein' all pillagey and shit.
Izzy: New pickup line: "hey baby, can I pillage your village?".
**********
Ginger: Just tried to say Led Zeppelin, but said Lez Zeppelin instead. New porn idea?
**********
Izzy: Lol fickling is a funny word. Like a cross between fucking and tickling. Fake tickle fights ftw!
*********
[On the formation of our camelry.]
Izzy: A camel cavalry is called a camelry, and desert warriors or soldier often fought camel-back with spears, bows, or rifles. Plus according to folklore, camel smell disorients horses which makes a horse cavalry essentially useless against them...lawlz.
Ginger: So when we storm the capital and takeover, a camelry is the best choice. Good looking out, bestie. Dromedary knowledge is useful.Izzy: I would name my camel Ramses.
Ginger: It's an excellent camel name. I would like mine to be called Bonaparte.
Izzy: Bill's camel would be Hitler, Adrian's would be Serge, and Tommy's would be Phineas. I'm surveying the masses.
Ginger: Good, we can't have unnamed camels in our camelry.
Izzy: Apparently our friend Tom's will be Yoseph, Adrian just informed me of this. Leave no stone unturned, and no camel unnamed!Ginger: We truly know how to plan for camel-driven domination.
**********
[On future tattoo plans.]
Ginger: I thought Jen's face was going on your butt cheek.
Izzy: No Jen's name, her face is going on our friend Nate's butt cheek. And I will have to be very very drunk to get a buttoo.
Ginger: I do not want a buttoo at all.
Izzy: I was too lazy to write out butt tattoo so I just smooshed it together and made a new word. I feel so Tyra Banks right now.
Ginger: I love how Perez calls her Tyrannasaurus. She totes is, but faboosh at the same time. I like the word buttoo.
Izzy: Tyra is very T-Rex like. Intimidating but also captivating.
Ginger: And majestic.
Izzy: Yayyyyy! Let me know when you check it out. If we got it I'd so feel like a sailor.
Ginger: We should probably arrange our adult lives so that we ALWAYS feel like sailors.**********
Izzy: Just went to a psychic who seemed to give a pretty damn accurate reading but then wanted me to drop $240 for her to do a meditation with me to rid me of some of my negative energy before December 12th, which is apparently going to be a turning point in my life. From now on I'm just going to All Messages at the Spiritualist Church. It's free and once a month.
Ginger: No kidding! For $240, I want a harem of seraphim to follow me singing everywhere to compliment my solid gold aura.
Izzy: For serious. At least 24 karats and perfect harmonies or I want a refund.
**********
Izzy: Dr. Phil just told this kid that he became a passenger on the drug train. Where the fuck is this train station? I wanna travel!
Ginger: I want a pass with my picture and everything! Must join!
Saturday, October 17, 2009
WTF?!
Whilst perusing the internet at very near 5 o'clock in the morn, we stumbled across the following:
Be overwhelmingly terrified.
With martyrs and mastodons,
Izzy and Ginger
Be overwhelmingly terrified.
With martyrs and mastodons,
Izzy and Ginger
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
The (Questionable) Morals and Values of Izzy and The Ginge
As much as Izzy and I adhere to the statement "Never fux in '09'', it's time there was an informational tutorial about the core values in which we live our lives.
1) Never fux in '09
The origin of "no fux" began in 2007, when a good friend of Izzy's decided that an appropriate New Years' resolution would be "no fux in '07". This eventually became "still no fux in '08" and, to continue the non-relinquishing of fux, "never fux in '09". This is sometimes interchanged with the term "goose fux", which came about accidentally when Izzy's ADD decided to go on a rampage one day; luckily Ginger was there to 1) get her back on track and 2) witness the glorious creation that is "goose fux" and thus make mental note of the term to use later. The term "fux" is an abbrev of "fucks" as most can probably deduce, and to give goose fux about something is to in fact not care at all. The word goose was added because a zero can sometimes be referred to as a goose egg. Also, and more importantly, geese are notorious for never ever giving fux, even in the most dire circumstances. Thus, we never give a fuck in 2009.
2) Drugs and business mix nicely
Now, it's probably no surprise that Izzy and I advocate freely the use of hippie drugs. We lay around and are silly and come up with excellent ideas, so why not? I think that marijuana is a victimless crime, and should be legalized. It would have been legalized in the late eighties and early nineties and was almost granted, but then crack blew up the streets and sent all of us hippies back to a life of hardcore criminal behavior (aka smoking in my bed with no pants on). I digress. There is nothing wrong with a little mind alteration, especially when near a kitchen to make delicious delicacies. Seeing as we live in a gnome cottage, we live around very large and colourful fungi, somewhat like Smurfs (although that's where the similarities stop). You get the picture.
3) Machetes and capes are always necessary for every occasion
Izzy keeps hers in the trunk of her car, mine is in the living room for easy retrieval when leaving on crime-fighting missions. The point is, one must keep everything on hand that are daily requirements. Capes are always appropriate attire for any event, whether formal or informal. Machetes are useful for cutting down heavy rainforest vines, signaling traffic, and making stir-fry. The point is, don't leave the house unprepared.
4) Everyone likes pirates and dinosaurs
Even Hallmark had a "Grandmas like dinosaurs" commercial, and who doesn't like to wear a singular earring and add "ARR!" to prelude every sentence? I routinely draw cartoon dinosaurs doing various activities instead of classwork and send them to numerous friends and relatives. A dinosaur holding a valentine is much more romantic than a plain old valentine, and a Mother's Day song is a little sweeter when sung as a sea shanty with a mug of ale. So make the day better, add a dinosaur or pirate.
Peace and Pasties,
Ginger
(with a bit of input from Izzy, because she can't seem to keep ideas to herself)
1) Never fux in '09
The origin of "no fux" began in 2007, when a good friend of Izzy's decided that an appropriate New Years' resolution would be "no fux in '07". This eventually became "still no fux in '08" and, to continue the non-relinquishing of fux, "never fux in '09". This is sometimes interchanged with the term "goose fux", which came about accidentally when Izzy's ADD decided to go on a rampage one day; luckily Ginger was there to 1) get her back on track and 2) witness the glorious creation that is "goose fux" and thus make mental note of the term to use later. The term "fux" is an abbrev of "fucks" as most can probably deduce, and to give goose fux about something is to in fact not care at all. The word goose was added because a zero can sometimes be referred to as a goose egg. Also, and more importantly, geese are notorious for never ever giving fux, even in the most dire circumstances. Thus, we never give a fuck in 2009.
2) Drugs and business mix nicely
Now, it's probably no surprise that Izzy and I advocate freely the use of hippie drugs. We lay around and are silly and come up with excellent ideas, so why not? I think that marijuana is a victimless crime, and should be legalized. It would have been legalized in the late eighties and early nineties and was almost granted, but then crack blew up the streets and sent all of us hippies back to a life of hardcore criminal behavior (aka smoking in my bed with no pants on). I digress. There is nothing wrong with a little mind alteration, especially when near a kitchen to make delicious delicacies. Seeing as we live in a gnome cottage, we live around very large and colourful fungi, somewhat like Smurfs (although that's where the similarities stop). You get the picture.
3) Machetes and capes are always necessary for every occasion
Izzy keeps hers in the trunk of her car, mine is in the living room for easy retrieval when leaving on crime-fighting missions. The point is, one must keep everything on hand that are daily requirements. Capes are always appropriate attire for any event, whether formal or informal. Machetes are useful for cutting down heavy rainforest vines, signaling traffic, and making stir-fry. The point is, don't leave the house unprepared.
4) Everyone likes pirates and dinosaurs
Even Hallmark had a "Grandmas like dinosaurs" commercial, and who doesn't like to wear a singular earring and add "ARR!" to prelude every sentence? I routinely draw cartoon dinosaurs doing various activities instead of classwork and send them to numerous friends and relatives. A dinosaur holding a valentine is much more romantic than a plain old valentine, and a Mother's Day song is a little sweeter when sung as a sea shanty with a mug of ale. So make the day better, add a dinosaur or pirate.
Peace and Pasties,
Ginger
(with a bit of input from Izzy, because she can't seem to keep ideas to herself)
Monday, September 28, 2009
And now...
[[ *time for a brief dance interlude!* ]]
We'll be back soon, it's been quite a busy week at the gnome cottage!
Dance tiem plzkthx!
Love and lemondrops,
Izzy
We'll be back soon, it's been quite a busy week at the gnome cottage!
Dance tiem plzkthx!
Love and lemondrops,
Izzy
Monday, September 21, 2009
More Threats Facing America
Ginger: Warning! Soccer moms have become aware of the recent popularity surge of the fannypack amoing hipsters and have started attempting to integrate the trend back in style. Abort! Abort!
It's true, there are some scary, scary new threats that should be on America's radar. Fannypacks (which should not even be popular with the Ironic Hipster) are becoming seen more at an alarming rate. Louis Vuitton designed an fannypack and Chanel a fannypack/wallet to strap on your ankle. This. Has. Got. To. Stop. Shoulders are for purses and murses and backpacks. Waists are for belts. Waists are not for backpacks. As awesome as acidwash was, it does not belong in a "convenient" seatbelt-purse-belt combination.
Also, small barettes not holding hair back...just kind of clipped on the side of the head. These are generally small and bright plastic, found on Hot Topic emo-punk kids. Both sexes have straight, flat bangs and teased crunchy hair in the back, like a messy Dyke Spike. These are also usually a combination of bleach and neon colors of varying lengths. Anyway, I digress. In the flat bangs, there can usually be found a small plastic child's barret in the shape of an apple, bunny, or flower. They serve no purpose, except to shout to the general population "I am a pack rat! If I am not, I went to the Dollar General and bought these so I look like a pack rat!" in an attempt to look Alternative and XHardXCoreX with a touch of StraightXEdgeXXXXXX. This has also got to stop, for the sake of your little sister's hair accessories. These barrettes are what is keeping Dollar General afloat though. :-/
Fast Food Iced Coffee Drinks...We go to Starbucks for a reason. It is to buy overpriced, albeit fantastic coffee and coffee-like beverages. If McDonald's goes and gets a selection for the same price but 12 times the size, they are just going to win in their cospiracy plot to ruin America by making us all so fat we can't have an active military any longer, and thus lose our World Power Status. Please, it's the more you know. Truth be told though, I would sacrifice any sort of actual life and be 900lbs and on the TLC series "Half Ton Post-Grad" if i got to drink Burger King's Iced Mocha 18 hours a day. I would put a gun in my sweet grandmother's mouth for a lifetime supply. Not pull the trigger, but just inside. You know you would too.
It's true, there are some scary, scary new threats that should be on America's radar. Fannypacks (which should not even be popular with the Ironic Hipster) are becoming seen more at an alarming rate. Louis Vuitton designed an fannypack and Chanel a fannypack/wallet to strap on your ankle. This. Has. Got. To. Stop. Shoulders are for purses and murses and backpacks. Waists are for belts. Waists are not for backpacks. As awesome as acidwash was, it does not belong in a "convenient" seatbelt-purse-belt combination.
Also, small barettes not holding hair back...just kind of clipped on the side of the head. These are generally small and bright plastic, found on Hot Topic emo-punk kids. Both sexes have straight, flat bangs and teased crunchy hair in the back, like a messy Dyke Spike. These are also usually a combination of bleach and neon colors of varying lengths. Anyway, I digress. In the flat bangs, there can usually be found a small plastic child's barret in the shape of an apple, bunny, or flower. They serve no purpose, except to shout to the general population "I am a pack rat! If I am not, I went to the Dollar General and bought these so I look like a pack rat!" in an attempt to look Alternative and XHardXCoreX with a touch of StraightXEdgeXXXXXX. This has also got to stop, for the sake of your little sister's hair accessories. These barrettes are what is keeping Dollar General afloat though. :-/
Fast Food Iced Coffee Drinks...We go to Starbucks for a reason. It is to buy overpriced, albeit fantastic coffee and coffee-like beverages. If McDonald's goes and gets a selection for the same price but 12 times the size, they are just going to win in their cospiracy plot to ruin America by making us all so fat we can't have an active military any longer, and thus lose our World Power Status. Please, it's the more you know. Truth be told though, I would sacrifice any sort of actual life and be 900lbs and on the TLC series "Half Ton Post-Grad" if i got to drink Burger King's Iced Mocha 18 hours a day. I would put a gun in my sweet grandmother's mouth for a lifetime supply. Not pull the trigger, but just inside. You know you would too.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Who wants a mustache ride?
According to Wikipedia (the most reliable source for accurate information on the planet, obviously):
Let's start at the beginning. The baby mustache, also called the shit 'stache, starts as small hairs at the corner of one's lip, typically in pubescent boys and very unfortunate females (don't worry, ladies, there is always a career waiting for you as a freakshow attraction). Depending on what sort of ethnic background you have, this could start almost immediately after exiting the womb. Eventually the mustache gets bored and decides to branch out, spreading inwards to meet in the middle of the lip and outwards to join forces with the potential beard.
Now, this can sometimes be tricky; personally, I think to think of it as the Oregon Trail of facial hair travel- some can ford the river, and some can't [note: eventually, everyone will die of dysentery, but that is irrelevant at the present time]. You see, many boys and men alike, and probably a few of those unfortunate women, suffer from what my brothers like to call the "patch of fertility" (in an obvious attempt to make themselves feel more masculine). We've all seen it: those small, stubborn patches of hairless space on the sides of the mouth that just won't connect the moustache to the rest of the beard.
Regardless of whether or not you have awkward bald spots on the side of your mouth, growing a moustache is still rather impressive and looks quite distinguished if you can pull it off. A moustache is indicative that you are a person of power and importance. Who, in history, has not had a moustache and made a true impact on this planet? Just n00bz who happened to get lucky. From Salvador Dali to Teddy Roosevelt, from Freddy Mercury to Friedrich Nietzsche. Gandhi had one. Abraham Lincoln only secured the presidency after growing facial hair. Should you ever desire a position of power (or perhaps notoriety), a mustache is an essential piece of the puzzle.
That being said, there is both proper and improper use of mustaches. A mustache can be used to attain greatness, but it can also be your downfall. Let's take a look at mustache failure, shall we? A very expansive genre of mustache-wearers are creeps. This can include many sub-genres including pedophiles (I guarantee if you check your local anti-pedo website about 90% of perpetrators will be sporting some sort of mustache) and hardcore Nascar and/or WWE fans, which are often interchangeable.
Many nefarious villains and wily criminals have mustaches. I mean, have you seen Mel Gibson lately? In the proper form, a mustache can be quite intimidating indeed, and a sign that someone has less-than-friendly intentions for you. One minute you could be admiring their well-waxed mustache curls, and the next you'll find yourself tied to railroad tracks while a train rapidly approaches with no help in sight. Dictators, a great example of shady characters, unfailingly sport upper-lip fur. An easy reference is the Hitler mustache; if anyone looks like they accidentally got a poo smudge on their upper lip, run! They may try to force you and your family into labour camps. Not cool.
Cops are another story. It's often difficult to tell if they are the hero or the villain, because they are simply using the mustache to appear to be bad ass. Due to the use of aviator sunglasses by many officers, it will be nearly impossible to catch any sort of joyful glimmer or evil gleam in their eyes. If I were you, I would simply try to avoid any brush with the law if at all possible. Civil war re-enactment actors may also be a bit shifty, so I recommend that you be wary. A fu-manchu either means that you are going to be given sage advice, or you are going to be ninja-chopped right in the throat faster than you can say "wax on, wax off".
It is important to educate yourselves on what sort of mustaches are used by whom, so it is easy to determine if someone is approachable or is likely to do you in. Until you are confident in your ability to do so, you should politely decline any offers for a ride on another person's mustache. Just remember- it's a mustache, not a carousel. If you are interested in growing a mustache it is also beneficial to be educated so that you make sure you aren't giving off the wrong impression to others, as this could be very detrimental to your social life and, most importantly, your ability to get laid.
So, dear friends, I urge you to go forth into the world and explore the complicated existence of the mustache. You can thank me later.
Love and licorice,
Izzy
The word "moustache" derives from 16th century French moustache, which in turn is derived from the Italian mostaccio (14th century), dialectal mustaccio (16th century), from Medieval Latin mustacium (8th century), Medieval Greek moustakion (attested in the 9th century), which ultimately originates as a diminutive of Hellenistic Greek mustax (mustak-) "moustache", probably derived from Hellenistic Greek mullon "lip".Mustaches have apparent significance, or they wouldn't have such a long etymology. The fact that there is World Beard and Moustache Championships should alone make you step back in admiration and awe the next time you see a well-groomed mustachio. So what is it about the mustache that has such power over us?
Let's start at the beginning. The baby mustache, also called the shit 'stache, starts as small hairs at the corner of one's lip, typically in pubescent boys and very unfortunate females (don't worry, ladies, there is always a career waiting for you as a freakshow attraction). Depending on what sort of ethnic background you have, this could start almost immediately after exiting the womb. Eventually the mustache gets bored and decides to branch out, spreading inwards to meet in the middle of the lip and outwards to join forces with the potential beard.
Now, this can sometimes be tricky; personally, I think to think of it as the Oregon Trail of facial hair travel- some can ford the river, and some can't [note: eventually, everyone will die of dysentery, but that is irrelevant at the present time]. You see, many boys and men alike, and probably a few of those unfortunate women, suffer from what my brothers like to call the "patch of fertility" (in an obvious attempt to make themselves feel more masculine). We've all seen it: those small, stubborn patches of hairless space on the sides of the mouth that just won't connect the moustache to the rest of the beard.
Regardless of whether or not you have awkward bald spots on the side of your mouth, growing a moustache is still rather impressive and looks quite distinguished if you can pull it off. A moustache is indicative that you are a person of power and importance. Who, in history, has not had a moustache and made a true impact on this planet? Just n00bz who happened to get lucky. From Salvador Dali to Teddy Roosevelt, from Freddy Mercury to Friedrich Nietzsche. Gandhi had one. Abraham Lincoln only secured the presidency after growing facial hair. Should you ever desire a position of power (or perhaps notoriety), a mustache is an essential piece of the puzzle.
That being said, there is both proper and improper use of mustaches. A mustache can be used to attain greatness, but it can also be your downfall. Let's take a look at mustache failure, shall we? A very expansive genre of mustache-wearers are creeps. This can include many sub-genres including pedophiles (I guarantee if you check your local anti-pedo website about 90% of perpetrators will be sporting some sort of mustache) and hardcore Nascar and/or WWE fans, which are often interchangeable.
Many nefarious villains and wily criminals have mustaches. I mean, have you seen Mel Gibson lately? In the proper form, a mustache can be quite intimidating indeed, and a sign that someone has less-than-friendly intentions for you. One minute you could be admiring their well-waxed mustache curls, and the next you'll find yourself tied to railroad tracks while a train rapidly approaches with no help in sight. Dictators, a great example of shady characters, unfailingly sport upper-lip fur. An easy reference is the Hitler mustache; if anyone looks like they accidentally got a poo smudge on their upper lip, run! They may try to force you and your family into labour camps. Not cool.
Cops are another story. It's often difficult to tell if they are the hero or the villain, because they are simply using the mustache to appear to be bad ass. Due to the use of aviator sunglasses by many officers, it will be nearly impossible to catch any sort of joyful glimmer or evil gleam in their eyes. If I were you, I would simply try to avoid any brush with the law if at all possible. Civil war re-enactment actors may also be a bit shifty, so I recommend that you be wary. A fu-manchu either means that you are going to be given sage advice, or you are going to be ninja-chopped right in the throat faster than you can say "wax on, wax off".
It is important to educate yourselves on what sort of mustaches are used by whom, so it is easy to determine if someone is approachable or is likely to do you in. Until you are confident in your ability to do so, you should politely decline any offers for a ride on another person's mustache. Just remember- it's a mustache, not a carousel. If you are interested in growing a mustache it is also beneficial to be educated so that you make sure you aren't giving off the wrong impression to others, as this could be very detrimental to your social life and, most importantly, your ability to get laid.
So, dear friends, I urge you to go forth into the world and explore the complicated existence of the mustache. You can thank me later.
Love and licorice,
Izzy
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Flannel and boots not of the lumberjack persuasion.
Now, we all know the 90's flew by in a whirl of flannel, grunge, and TV sitcoms. But there are several identifying patterns in most 90's-produced television shows.
1. Boys using ladders to visit female friends.
Zack did it, Sam did it, you wish you could have too. I'm talking about 90's TV directors' penchant for having male characters arrive in female friends' rooms via ladder. Mostly bedecked in flannel (a staple of the average 90's teenager) they came to deliver poignant advice or words of comfort. Zack Morris only entered best friend Jessie Spano's room by her door once in the entire run of the series. He usually climbed in through the window, although whether or not he actually used a ladder is still a discrepancy. With Sam on the other hand, Clarissa's neighbor from Clarissa Explains It All, we always saw the very tip of the ladder enter the window-frame followed by the telltale few-bar musical interlude. Sam also entered Clarissa's room only once through the door, which prompted a discussion between the two about how weird it was and how it never happened.
2. Flannel.
Now, I assume most boys of the 90's aspired to be something like Kirk Cameron's character in Growing Pains. Nowadays however, he's a religious zealot who preaches about the coming Apocalypse. Nobody actually wants to be like Kooky Kirk anymore, but a little more than a decade ago we all did. He lived in the garage, wore flannel button-ups, and listened to the ever-popular-but-now-isn't-actually-around-anymore grunge genre. Flannel wasn't just limited to boys though; both DJ Tanner and Blossom rocked out some edgy green lumberjack-wear. Flannel was a staple of wardrobes all across the nation, as was air-guitaring after school to Smashing Pumpkins. Ahhh, the good old days.
3. Construction Boots.
I had them, I know you did too. Those yellow slightly-soft-when-you-first-get-them boots with the brown and yellow woven laces. They go particularly well with skirts with spandex shorts under them for female characters, and match beautifully with Wranglers and a flannel shirt over a tee with a left-breast pocket, usually red. Socks bunched over the top, matching the skirt, like a mountainous climb could happen at any moment. I mean, I realize the hills of San Francisco are steep...but construction boots? Seems a bit overkill.
4. Family sitcoms in general are a sad idea of the past.
Who doesn't need a good lesson in family after a hard day at school? It's also a good way for creepy stalkers to watch their objects of desire grow up. That aside, one does truly miss watching Cory and Eric get into some type of shenanigans with Mr. Feeny's prize garden. Reruns are still good, but different once one is older than the characters. Sitcoms were successful because they had a character for every age group to identify with, and thus making it a show the entire family liked to watch. They also had ballin' laughtracks, and who doesn't like to be told when to laugh and feel connected with families all over the land?
5. Hairstyles.
Uncle Jesse brought out the inner bad boy in everyone from the age of 8-45 with his studly leather jacket and rock 'n' roll mullet. He also renewed interest in Elvis impersonators. Shawn Hunter's shaggy brown locks made the girls' knees go weak. Also characteristic of sitcoms were long sideburns, so girls could run their fingers through something before puberty brought boys beards and other forms of facial hair. Really, the 90's hair was the same as 80's hair, just deflated. Friends especially- Jennifer Aniston's hair ("The Rachel") was one of the most epic of the era.
Well, I personally enjoyed that blast from the past. It also gave me an excuse to talk about everything I think about on a normal basis, and provide some sort of filing system for my mind to refer back to. Anyway, hope everyone has a good day and is continuing to save up for adult space camp.
Peace and Gypsy-Wishes,
Ginge
1. Boys using ladders to visit female friends.
Zack did it, Sam did it, you wish you could have too. I'm talking about 90's TV directors' penchant for having male characters arrive in female friends' rooms via ladder. Mostly bedecked in flannel (a staple of the average 90's teenager) they came to deliver poignant advice or words of comfort. Zack Morris only entered best friend Jessie Spano's room by her door once in the entire run of the series. He usually climbed in through the window, although whether or not he actually used a ladder is still a discrepancy. With Sam on the other hand, Clarissa's neighbor from Clarissa Explains It All, we always saw the very tip of the ladder enter the window-frame followed by the telltale few-bar musical interlude. Sam also entered Clarissa's room only once through the door, which prompted a discussion between the two about how weird it was and how it never happened.
2. Flannel.
Now, I assume most boys of the 90's aspired to be something like Kirk Cameron's character in Growing Pains. Nowadays however, he's a religious zealot who preaches about the coming Apocalypse. Nobody actually wants to be like Kooky Kirk anymore, but a little more than a decade ago we all did. He lived in the garage, wore flannel button-ups, and listened to the ever-popular-but-now-isn't-actually-around-anymore grunge genre. Flannel wasn't just limited to boys though; both DJ Tanner and Blossom rocked out some edgy green lumberjack-wear. Flannel was a staple of wardrobes all across the nation, as was air-guitaring after school to Smashing Pumpkins. Ahhh, the good old days.
3. Construction Boots.
I had them, I know you did too. Those yellow slightly-soft-when-you-first-get-them boots with the brown and yellow woven laces. They go particularly well with skirts with spandex shorts under them for female characters, and match beautifully with Wranglers and a flannel shirt over a tee with a left-breast pocket, usually red. Socks bunched over the top, matching the skirt, like a mountainous climb could happen at any moment. I mean, I realize the hills of San Francisco are steep...but construction boots? Seems a bit overkill.
4. Family sitcoms in general are a sad idea of the past.
Who doesn't need a good lesson in family after a hard day at school? It's also a good way for creepy stalkers to watch their objects of desire grow up. That aside, one does truly miss watching Cory and Eric get into some type of shenanigans with Mr. Feeny's prize garden. Reruns are still good, but different once one is older than the characters. Sitcoms were successful because they had a character for every age group to identify with, and thus making it a show the entire family liked to watch. They also had ballin' laughtracks, and who doesn't like to be told when to laugh and feel connected with families all over the land?
5. Hairstyles.
Uncle Jesse brought out the inner bad boy in everyone from the age of 8-45 with his studly leather jacket and rock 'n' roll mullet. He also renewed interest in Elvis impersonators. Shawn Hunter's shaggy brown locks made the girls' knees go weak. Also characteristic of sitcoms were long sideburns, so girls could run their fingers through something before puberty brought boys beards and other forms of facial hair. Really, the 90's hair was the same as 80's hair, just deflated. Friends especially- Jennifer Aniston's hair ("The Rachel") was one of the most epic of the era.
Well, I personally enjoyed that blast from the past. It also gave me an excuse to talk about everything I think about on a normal basis, and provide some sort of filing system for my mind to refer back to. Anyway, hope everyone has a good day and is continuing to save up for adult space camp.
Peace and Gypsy-Wishes,
Ginge
We talk about spandex a lot.
Izzy: Watching My Fake Fiancé (with Melissa Joan Hart). It makes me want to stage a wedding.
Ginger: I don't think I've actually seen that one, but it sounds faboo.
Izzy: Sabrina the Teenage Witch ages to Sabrina the manipulative 20-something.
Ginger: Lolz, sounds about right...She's married with 3 kids or something now. Man, Clarissa Explains It All was my favorite show.
Izzy: I've always wanted to have a friend who came over by climbing into my window with a ladder. That was fairly common in the 90's.
Ginger: Where did all the ladders go? Most of them were blond too...correlation?
Izzy: I always associate ladder climbing with Aryans in flannel, don't you? But wasn't Clarissa's neighbor (Sam) a brunette? Maybe it's just the blonds that have the most desirable windows.
Ginger: Well, it could also have something to do with "blonds have more fun" which is why they pre-arrange to have attractive windows to provide a pleasurable experience for the individual doing the sneaking in?
Izzy: I can't get "Come to my Window" out of my head now. Also 90's, wasn't it?
Ginger: Yes! Oh my god I've had it stuck in my head too since we started the whole windows discussion!
It never ceases to amaze me how we get into such elaborate discussions about obscure pop culture icons.
**********
Ginger: We are full of potential growth, esp. our tatas.
Izzy: Omg I hope not. I'd cry.
Ginger: Meee too...But it would be kind of cool if we could make them grow when we dressed as superheroes and fought crime, then they could be normal size the rest of the time.
Izzy: Our tatas are never normal sized as it is. Could I keep them like this for crime fighting then go down to C cups for my everyday activities?
Ginger: I think that's arrangeable...as long as crime fighting is still involved.
Izzy: Of course.
Ginger: Excellent...I can see us majestically standing on top of a building, surveying our peaceful, crime-free village.
Izzy: Hands on our hips, grins on our faces, beaming with pride.
Ginger: Yes, spandex bodysuits glistening in the moonlight.
**********
Ginger: I wish you could prowl the streets looking for tweakers with me.
**********
Izzy: On my way to work. I also decided if I listen to Lady Gaga the whole way to NC it will be game on...Poker Face? No. She makes me get my sex face on. I'll take Lejeune by storm. Anyone who thinks we're NOT gonna do it...too bad, game over. Hurricane Iz is a-brewin'.
Ginger: It will be like La Niña all up in NC.
Izzy: La Hoo-ha *grins*
Ginger: Hehehehehehehe. A big storm or a vaginal takeover...whichev, they're practically the same.
Izzy: That made me think of little uniformed lemming men invading my girl parts. I'm not gonna lie, I panicked for a second.
**********
Izzy: Double threat. The Shuttlecocks-prowling the streets, bustin' crimes and bustin' rhymes.
Ginger: We bust rhymes instead of heads...can we have rap/dance offs with our foes?
Izzy: It'll be like West Side Story but with a Tupac vs. Biggie twist.
Ginger: Can we make up little rhyming songs like the Oompa Loompas in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? The one with Gene Wilder, of course.
Izzy: Only if we can have our choreography include 1980's style break dancing.
Ginger: And pants...Have you seen Breakin' 2? It can be like that.
Izzy: Fuck. Yes.
**********
Ginger: Who doesn't like gaybourhoods and trannies?
Izzy: Again...Republicans.
Ginger: Pfft, they're hardly rational citizens of society.
Izzy: Republicans like trannies and hookers in secret. They call it scandal, I call it a good weekend.
Ginger: I like a good scandalous weekend. Keeps the heart young.
**********
Ginger: You will not be a cat lady...someone with plans to wear capes, have a gnome cottage with a kraken in the lake and pilots hot air balloons would never be a crotchety old cat lady.
Izzy: What if I'm a dog lady who bakes snickerdoodles for the neighbourhood children?
Ginger: That's acceptable. Mainly because snickerdoodles are fucking delicious.
Izzy: So it's acceptable for me to die alone as long as I make delicious baked goods?
**********
Ginger: Kid Rock boy has started parting his hair in the middle and slicking back both halves...who fooled him into thinking that looks socially acceptable? He's also planning his first tattoo...his high school mascot. He went to Youngstown and was in the computer club. Someone please blow this kid before his interests completely cripple any social skills he may have at one time had.
**********
Ginger: Some girl walking by just said, "I wish I had an excuse to dress as a pirate everyday." Now I ask, does one actually need an excuse?
**********
Ginger: I like to text you my thoughts throughout the day while you're asleep, because I like to think you smile upon wakening.
Izzy: You're precious :)
**********
Ginger: Balls to the wall? How about vaginas to the ceiling, motherfucker!
**********
Ginger: I feel like the coach in Remember the Titans could be the next Hitler. He is so persuasive!
Izzy: Except it's Denzel so he'd be persuading me to let him be my baby daddy. And I'd oblige.
Ginger: I just lol'd all over the couch.
Apparently what makes a good sports movie is survivor's guilt. Remember the Titans, We Are Marshall...I fucking hate sports.
**********
Ginger: Gadzooks, I wouldn't want to be Brazilian tonight. Or ever, really. You think they're born with Brazilian waxes?
Izzy: No, they're born with full beards which is why they wax so damn much.
Ginger: Ooooh good point. My eyebrows need to be bushwhacked asap.
Izzy: Lol. I hope they shape them like giraffes, or perhaps ballerinas.
**********
Izzy: Good news: listening to You Make My Dreams Come True by Hall & Oates while getting a bikini wax makes it much more pleasant. Like every time you rip something off or wince in pain it's like a sweet dance move.
Ginger: I imagined you doing the Saturday Night Fever dance move but naked and with wax strips.
Izzy: That was my intention.
**********
Ginger: Whitney Houston had the first celebrity meltdown. Britney Spears can only hope to achieve Whitney-level downward spirals.
Izzy: And Whitney has crack. What does B. Spears have besides a crazy eye and Dr. Phil?
Ginger: Hair clippers and Prozac. Aka NADA.
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