Real Women Have Memes

No shit, Sherlock.  But not all of us can help it. 

So I just came across the image at left floating around Facebook, with about a gazillion “likes.”  Are we not done with this skinny-bashing yet? This has been going on for a while now – I know it has because I’m 28 and never was there a point in my life where I wasn’t getting constantly bothered by everyone about how skinny I was.  Sure, these days I’m pretty much known for not giving a fuck what anyone thinks, but as a teenager I hated my skininess.  And there’s nothing like hating something about yourself, being unable to change it no matter how hard you try, and then getting shit from other people for it too.

The “Real Women Have Curves!” mentality isn’t accomplishing anything anymore.  Curvy girls shouldn’t need any more high-fives.  They’re fine.  Know why? Because everyone and their fucking mother is curvy.  Everyone is at least a little technically overweight.  Its the new average.  How insecure can you be about your physique when your physique looks like 90% of the population?

I understand that its all a backlash that started because of models puking themselves away, but we get it now.  We’re over it.  Everyone knows that thats not good.  We can stop trying to undo it now.

Whats happening is we’re seeing the unhealthy, starved models in photos taken on a runway in Paris, then turning to our naturally thin co-worker or classmate in the real world and taking it out on them.

“Oh my God- you can’t even finish a slice of pizza?”

“That was my fourth slice.”

“At least eat your crust.  God.”

Stop skinny-hating.  Not all of us are starving ourselves.  Go google “genetics” and read what that stuff’s about.

And if you’re curvy and need to feel better about yourself, visit the Bronx and befriend the hispanic chicks who are 5’1” and 150lbs and walk around in middrifts and jeans so tight they can’t fit their Metrocard in their pocket.  The creepy guys on the corner still whistle at them.

New York Shitty

No Thanks

In 4 days I will be leaving New York City – where I was born and raised – and moving to Philadelphia.  This is a good thing, because I absolutely hate NY.

Lots of people give me shit when I talk about hating New York, so I’m going to defend myself right now.

There are many reasons why people say they love NYC but the most common reason why you don’t find everyone walking around bashing it as much as I do is because they are so used to all the shitiness. They don’t realize how horrible New York is because they don’t know any better.

For instance – your destination and where you park your car are actually supposed to be the same place.  Yup.  A statement like “The restaurant is on 9th Avenue and 17th Street and we parked on Broadway between 28th and 29th” should never be said.  The entire 2nd half of that sentence should not exist. Cars were invented so that you can take them from your house to where you want to go.  Not so that you can take them from your house to a third area and then get out in the cold and walk to where you want to go.  Karl Benz rolls over in his grave each time this happens.

But people seem to be ok with this.  And since everyone’s probably thinking “Well of course you’re going to have problems taking a car because you’re supposed to take public transportation,” I’ll touch on that subject too, because its another horror that you New York lovers seem to be totally blind to.

Ok.  Lets say you commute to and from work by subway.  You get on the train after work, and you’re going all the way up to the Bronx so you’re going to want to find a seat.  A couple of things come into play here.  If its summer, you’re going to want your train car to be airconditioned.  If its very late at night you might not want to isolate yourself with a shady looking individual. If its super crowded and you have stuff you’re carrying, you probably want to sit near a door so that you can make sure you’ll have time to get through the crowd and get off at your station before the doors close.  These are all things that I have no problem with.  But there are some things that should never, ever be a deciding factor when it comes to finding a seat on the subway.  Things like… oh, I don’t know… URINE.  URINE should never enter the fucking equation.  Whether its urine on the seat, a clean seat in an area that smells of urine, a person nearby who looks like they’ll probably produce urine in the next 40 minutes or however long your ride is- – doesn’t matter.  Its not ok.  Peepee should not be involved.  You should never have to sit down in a suitable seat and see a puddle of piss on the floor and then have to think to yourself “Ok… well the train is going this way, so when they put on the brakes that means the puddle’s going to trickle that way… so I’m good.” NO! How is this acceptable??

You’re all out of your fucking minds.  But, I’ll be back to visit.  I’ll bundle up since I’ll be driving in. (Sorry, Karl)

It Doesn’t Taste Good Anyway

And why is it in quotes?

I went sneaker shopping today and found a few of these bad boys in some of the shoes.  I’ve never before been able to express how grateful I am that this “DO NOT EAT” warning is printed on these things, so I’m going to do it now:   Thank you.  Thank you for telling me, because normally when I find something and I don’t know what it is I EAT IT.  Boom.  Goes right in my mouth.  Especially if I find it inside of a shoe and especially if that shoe isn’t even mine.

Be CAREFUL

“My palms! My PALMS!!!!”

I think people sometimes get off a little on the idea of the world being more dangerous than it actually is.

Maybe its exciting for them or its a variation of getting to play the victim role, I don’t know.  But either way its fucking retarded and egotistical to think that everyone is out to get you.

A friend of mine posted on facebook about getting his new GPS stolen out of his car.  More than a handful of people immediately commented on his status, saying things like “You’re lucky you only had it for two days so all your information wasn’t in it,” followed by a bunch of comments suggesting that one should not put their real address into their GPS and instead use the location of a nearby public place.

Oh, come ON.

First of all, there’s a huge difference between the type of person who would break into a car to steal (or, in the case of my friend’s situation, open a car door that was left unlocked) and someone who would track your ass down and chop up your family in your own home.  I know the idea of the latter is way more exciting than thinking of your GPS information getting erased and the unit being sold online, but its kind of important to maintain a grip on reality.

For instance- I wanted to get in touch with a friend of mine about a casting call that was time sensitive and I didn’t have her number so I went to her Facebook page.  I told her to call or text me and included my phone number.  All of a sudden I was being warned by the masses about the danger of my phone number being up on her page.  No one said “Are you sure you want to do that?” or “You should probably take that down after your friend does get in touch with you.”  Nope- and everyone used the word DANGEROUS.  When I asked how it was dangerous, the main consensus was that my number “could get into the wrong hands.” And then what, exactly?? Someone can get-in-touch-with-me-to-death??  I don’t even answer my phone for people I do know.

And if I get one more fucking “Share with all your female friends- PLEAAASSEE — LISTEN, LADIES!!” email with some bullshit story about a woman who’s approached by a friendly man at a gas station and they shook hands and a month later she has a miscarraige and didn’t make the connection until she realized the man implanted a chip into her hand that releases high dosages of Plan B so LADIES- – if a man goes to shake your hand DO NOT SHAKE HIS HAND- JUST DROP EVERYTHING AND RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN TO THE NEAREST WELL LIT AREA.  AND DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT GET INTO YOUR CAR BECAUSE AUTOMOBILE AIRCONDITIONERS PRODUCE TRACES OF A CHEMICAL THAT CAN SPEED UP THE PROCESSES OF THE IMPLANTED BIRTHCONTROL PALM CHIP WHICH GUARANTEES THE CHANCES OF YOU HAVING A MISCARRAIGE EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT PREGNANT.  Please forward this to your Mothers and Daughters and Sisters and all the women in your life.  Be careful!!!! {Insert poem about strong women here with tacky animated clip art}

I know bad things can happen to innocent people and I’m not denying that, but living in constant fear and negativity ain’t so healthy either.  I don’t know why I wrote “ain’t” just now, but it seemed fitting.

Reporting Live From The Uncanny Valley

A News Anchor in his “off” position. When his segment starts, the Anchor will begin his life-like movements and speech patterns while reading from the teleprompter before returning once again to his “off” position. This is not a JPEG, its a GIF.

I really wish that reporters and news anchors would just take a minute and decide if they want to be human or not.  I don’t care which one they end up choosing- I just want them to pick one or the other and stop bouncing around in the middle because this in-between bullshit fucking freaks me out.

You can have your hair and makeup done perfectly,  you can train yourself to speak in such a way that you have virtually no accent and seem to be from nowhere and you can tell us about people getting murdered and other touchy situations showing no emotion whatsoever.  Thats fine.  But if you do all of those things, then you can NOT slip in a comment about taking your kids to the beach before going to a commercial break because then I try to picture you having kids and it doesn’t work and all of a sudden shit gets weird.

Its like when you’d run into your elementary school teacher at the supermarket when you were little, and your mom says “Oh look – its Mrs. Gershwin!” and you’re like “I know – lets get the fuck out of here,” because she’s wearing jeans and its dark out and you’re not supposed to see your teachers at night (unless you’re one of those russian kids with perfect attendance from K-5 who would go with their parents to Parent-Teacher Conferences – what was with that? You’re not supposed to attend Parent-Teacher Conferences!  You’re supposed to stay at home shitting yourself.)

Considering wha…

Considering what a waterfall is, whoever came up with the name for it is a fucking genius. Double points for whoever came up with the word scarecrow. (“Say, what do you call that fake man you built out in the field to scare crows away?”)

Welcome :)

Take it easy

Welcome to my blog!

I’ve tried to keep a blog many times before and it never works out.  I know this is a common thing that happens to lots of people – but I don’t lose interest or run out of things to write about like other attempted bloggers do.

My problem with blogs is different.

In fact, I know exactly where I go wrong and I still can’t get a handle on it.  Its retarded.

Here’s the deal:

Years ago, when you created a blog, you chose how you wanted your blog to look by glancing through a set of templates and picking one.  These days, all the major blogging platforms pretty much give the user 100% control over how it will look – and I’m not just talking about the basic layout and font colors – I’m talking about uploading your own banners, choosing the line height of your text and customizing the thickness of the borders that will go around your images should you chose to include images in your future posts.

Now, this amount of power given to you may sound like its a good thing, and I’m sure it is for many people.  However, if you’re an artsy person who’s asinterested obsessed with aesthetics as I am, having complete control over a nearly-infinate amount of adjustments like this can actually kill you.  And, if you’re one of the lucky ones who do not spontaneously combust at the sheer realization of all the customizing that can be done, you’re still not off the hook because you’ll end up losing your fucking mind trying to make your blog look perfect.

        I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve created an account somewhere, got to the “Customize The Look And Feel Of Your Blog” part of the setup process, then spent hours upon hours tweaking the damn thing until the shadow of my header title font matched the color of the last shit I took and never even got around to actually writing blog entries.

Seriously – there are at least 8 or 9 of my previous attempts floating around in cyberspace as we speak, each probably titled “Welcome to my blog!” with exposed html code and one solitary blog entry saying something like “Just testing sidebar width!” and then no other updates.

But, alas, its a new year and blogging somewhat seriously is one of my New Years resolutions, so, obviously, its going to happen.  I don’t give a shit how my layout looks.  Right?  Who’s with me??