writers block

i know i promised a sheep story but im havin a bit of trouble putting it together...

things however are looking up now, and i think it wont be long til i have something worthy of a post to show you..

imaginary friend...

heartbreak lends itself well to the spending of long hours listening to songs about heartbreak as one drifts through the painful time it takes to remember yourself, by yourself, and happy. there are many albums perfectly suited for this particular kind of self torture as when one feels this way it is as if every song was written just for you. but i, when i have decided to wade through misery (or joy for that matter) listen to audio books... and lately David sedaris is my author (and reader) of choice. his work tends to consist mostly of stories about his own life told from a first person perspective... so when spending long hours wondering through ones own pain, listening to the funny yet slightly melancholy stories of the same man, it can sometimes lead one to feel as if the stories really are being told directly to you. like a conversation with a friend who is consistently more interesting than i am, so i listen, content to enjoy his company keeping the mundane details of my day to day to myself. this feeling is comforting for the most part, but has recently left me with the urge, when i need to vent... to call... David..Sedaris.. whom of course i don't know, and whom i do know isn't really speaking to me. i know this... but he has become what is essentially a grown up version of an imaginary friend. the only difference is he is not imaginary, except in so far as i feel as if he is my friend...

bloody mary (drinks and ghosts)

those who know me are already well aware that the bloody Mary is my favorite drink by far, (though technically i like bloody caesars, the difference being i use clamato instead of tomato juice); on occasion when i have run out of vodka i have tried variations like the bloody geisha, with sake (not recommended) or the ruddy Mary, with gin (lovely).
tonight, feeling a bit glum and preparing for a lovely bubble bath, i got ready to prepare myself my favorite cheer-me-up beverage. however after realizing i had only one drinks worth of vodka left in my freezer i decided i would wikipedia some other variations to avoid having to take a long pathetic walk through the rain in my pajamas to the liquor store (thus proving to myself that have become a p.j.s in public desperate total degenerate. yeah i could put on pants, but, fuck you public... who are you to judge me "flatbush liquors"? nobody.) anyway already having in my cabinet Jameson and in my fridge beer i tried the bloody molly, with whiskey, which was gross but may have been better if i weren't using clamato... and then i tried the red eye, which is half beer and half clamato.. neither really did it for me but at least the red eye was sorta good even though it didn't compare to the michelada which is a corona or other Mexican beer with hot sauce, a bit of tomato, pepper, and a lime and salt (one of the best hangover cures i can think of and delicious too boot)....

anyway, i gave up on that and decided to go with a hot chocolate with coffee liquor and cayenne pepper. while i was on wikipedia, i checked out the disambiguation page for bloody Mary and suddenly was rocketed back in time to the sleepovers of my adolescence. bloody Mary the creepy little story girls tell each other at sleep overs has always gotten under my skin. having not thought about it in years, suddenly i was recalling my fear, and then... reliving it. bloody Mary is said to have gone crazy and murdered her children, chopping them up into pieces, and the way i heard it she hated her eldest daughter for her pretty face and so slashed it up before she killed her... now, if one goes alone into a dark room with a mirror and repeats her name three times, bloody Mary will appear in the mirror and scratch your face off and kill you... a girl named Stephanie told me that, and ill be honest, I've never done it. i recall in middle school lying at a sleepover, after being sent in to a bathroom alone to test the ritual and lying, claiming i wasn't afraid, and that when i did it, i wasn't surprised when she didn't show.. so Stephanie, here's the truth: i was scared, i didn't do it, I've never done it, i get nervous having even typed her name so many times, even reading it... and I'm still not gonna do it, and no one can make me.

late night cheeseburger flavor: beer and cheeseburger vomit?

okay so here we go with a little doritio inspired rant. their new advert for their new "flavor" is distressing for many reasons... here it is:






doritos is presenting this advertisement to the wrong demographic, pretty skinny club girls dont eat doritos, and they definetly dont eat late night cheeseburgers, and any combonation of the two, well that is just gross. which brings me to my next problem with this advertisment, in no way does eating chips of any kind make me feel more dressed up or pretty or like im ready for the hot city late night club scene; if i am eating doritos, i will not be in heels, sparkles, and certainly not lipstick. i will be in sweat pants with no shirt on drooling on myself in front of the tv if i am eating doritos, just like the people they aught to be marketing to.
this is not to say doritos are exclusively for those people, and i am certainly not suggesting that showing that sort of scene would be a good image for their ads. im saying that is their main demographic, and that is why we usually see ads protraying doritos as the sort of thing x-treem sports people and attractive gamers with good skin will eat. their aim is off.. they are shooting too high going for club girls, late night cheeseburger perhaps should be targeting the dive bar scene and frat boys doing keg stands if they want to move on from skaters and gamers and go for the drunks. not. club. girls. give it up doritos, they too pretty for you and they are out of your league.

also, late night cheeseburger is a gross idea for a chip flavor, especially the "late night" part. you know who eats cheeseburgers late night? stoned people and people who have drunk too much and are worried they will barf. and they will barf. and now it will be late night cheeseburger flavor.

fuck you doritos.

advertising

i have a problem with a great many advertisements for a great many reasons, so I'm going to tackle a few of them and explain myself in a few posts here.

i will begin with wheat thins current line of advertising in which a van full of wheat thin employees check twitter for wheat thin related posts and then jump out at the posters of said tweets with boxes of wheat thins. i have a problem in general with this fake guerrilla format, and wheat thins are not the only ones, )see domino's pizza forcing people who gave bad reviews to their pizza to give it another chance) but the wheat thins are offensive to me in a way the pizza isn't.
my big problem isn't really even how ridiculous the idea of some woman bothering to tweet that her life is over because she is out of wheat thins; my problem is their ludicrous reaction. they deliver her enough wheat thins that they need a fork lift to put them in her driveway and then speed off.
why would anyone want that. if i was that lady i would be pissed. its just.. offensive.







another of their spots involves a guy who supposedly tweeted that he wishes there were crunch proof headphones so he doesn't have to turn up the volume when he eats wheat thins. so they show up with what they claim to have invented in their labs, a pair of crunch proof earphones. they put them on the poor guys head interrupting his meal out on the patio of some cafe, and crunch at him through a megaphone.
what. the. fuck.
anyone who has ever eaten something crunchy while watching TV or even in some cases listening to their headphones knows that that man is not referring to crunching from others, and if you don't have experience with this then at least you can read his supposed tweet and know what he means! god damn! and sound canceling headphones already exist! wheat thins, you know you didn't invent those in your cracker lab!

i don't know why this drives me so crazy, but it does. i like wheat thins, but no more, i cant look at them without thinking of that lame van and that smug fuck in charge of where they go.

fuck you wheat thins. fuck you.



up next, my thoughts on dorito's late night cheeseburger.

i got a new tablet for my birthday!!

so heres a dino i did real quick for phil!

sneak attack visit

my mother and father called me this previous weekend to tell me that they will be visiting me Thursday this week. i, being the eldest of their adult children, and having moved farthest away, feel a certain level of ambivalence regarding my lifestyle. on the one hand, I've been living on my own the longest, and should, in theory have gotten the hang of living like an adult by now... on the other hand living just far enough away to avoid the parental-pop-in has my apartment usually looking as though a crazy homeless person has been squatting there, nice things, but all piled up on the floor and on table tops, and absolutely no clean dishes.

so i tried to clean for their visit, which i suspect was prompted by my recent break up. since they, i believe, are coming here to make sure I'm not drinking myself into oblivion over it, i decided to first take out the recycling. the bag of course was chock full of beer, vodka, and whiskey bottles (their fears are not entirely unfounded, but they don't need to know that), and now i fear my super will judge me too when he finds this huge sack of empty booze bottles. its not that I'm such a drunk, but more like it takes me a long time to take out the recycling.
after that i did some basic things like sweeping the hall, putting all my dirty laundry in a pile (as opposed to blanketing my entire apartment all spread out), and putting dishes in the sink. this is where it all falls apart... it looked pretty good to me... but when someone comes inside your apartment you see it as if with new eyes for its shocking filthiness, so i decided to leave and come back pretending to be my mother.
i walked in to an impassible hallway, but gave myself the benefit of the doubt that this isn't so bad, then i walked into the living room and cringed at the pile of god-knows-what stuff covering my table and imagined my mother going through and assessing the details of the contents of the mess. then i went into the kitchen where i (still pretending to be my mother) dropped to my knees clutching my heart and hollered "oh god nooooooooo" the place is quite a sight if you aren't used to it.

discouraged, I've given up. my new plan is to keep them so busy they don't have time to really look too close...

**update**
the busy plan was in fact scrapped and instead i went with a much more devious and fun plan... i got them wasted and in the morning hollered "oh my god look what you did to my apartment!" which worked beautifully.

you are where you live more than what you eat.

if my place is a mess, so am i... and its a two way street, when my place looks like a disaster area chances are it started because i fell into a funk emotionally or my other responsibilities became overwhelming, but.. having allowed my apartment to fall apart it only added to the problem that had caused it and before long both situations are out of control. a messy apartment can become so unmanageable and overwhelming very fast, and its not a healthy environment to fix anything else either. how can i get my head together when every dish in the house is dirty and i cant see the floor in my bedroom or living room for all the clutter? thank goodness that cleaning can be like therapy.

if my place is too dirty to see where to start, it helps me to come up with a new furniture plan. this could mean moving all of the furniture or just a few key pieces; this could also mean purchasing new shelves or something of the like. if you have to move furniture or work in a new piece then you are forced to deal with the floor and surface clutter that blocks the way (not to mention anything that might be under something you are moving).

i find that once i get the ball rolling with something like this its much easier to continue and actually get the whole psychotic mess under control. when you move furniture there is an artificial feeling of greater progress which can be all the motivation i need to tackle all the other little problems in the house.

once you have your place in order you feel good. not only have you conquered a major project but your surroundings are now in harmony with the adult you are supposed to be. freshly cleaned and rearranged spaces are full of positive forward moving energy.

im more likely to shave my legs or work out or even do my homework on time if my apartment is clean and the furniture is where i like it and i dont hate my curtains.

p.s. i also bought new curtains online...