Mr. Zombie Goes Shopping

To celebrate my continuing illness but unfortunate need to leave the house for such silliness as food, soap, and medication, I give you a fun filled shopping trip featuring Mr. Zombie:

It is only appropriate that Mr. Zombie should visit our local Walmart Super Center.  He should blend right in.

Welcome to ZombieMart!

Let's see, what's on the shopping list for today...

Ahh, imagine that.

Well, let's get shopping...

Brainz, brainz, brainz...

That's right, Mr. Zombie, let's find some brains.

Brainz?

No, not brains.

BRAINZ?

Not this time, Mr. Zombie, keep looking...

BRAINZ!?

Close enough, Mr. Zombie, close enough!

Monster Math- Variables and Demon Possession

A lot of people are afraid of algebra.  I think that it is because they don't know that algebra is just basic math dressed up in scary costumes. I mean, for the most part, it is just addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division-- it is just a matter of understanding how they are dressed up to understand the concepts.  But don't worry, I'm here to unmask the monsters of math for you, kinda like in that movie Van Helsing, only not so boring that you want to throw yourself off the balcony to avoid having to watch anymore.

Variables

Variables are like the Regan McNeil of algebra.  Each variable used to be a cute little number but then they made the bad choice to play with a Ouija board wherein Captain Howdy turns them into pea soup spitting letters of fear and uncertainty.  Yes, they seem scary, but basically are just a demon-possessed number masquerading as a letter.

With variables, your job is to figure out what number that letter used to be to free them of their demon.  Yup, each math problem where you are solving for a variable is a mini exorcism!

Suggested watching: The Exorcist, Jennifer's Body

Distributive Property

The distributive property in algebra can be likened to the movie Rosemary's Baby.  You take possessed numbers (aka variables) and their mates (should they have any) and spread their seed into the other numbers in the parentheses next door.  Once everyone is done with their multiplying orgy of the damned, you combine like terms into teams, that is, demon numbers combine by addition or subtraction, as do plain ole numbers who have avoided being possessed.  They are organized from most possessed to least possessed as follows:

(y+2) (y+2)

y²+2y+2y+4

y²+4y+4

* note- this concept works with possessing aliens also!

Suggested watching: Village of the Damned, The Stuff

Factoring

Factoring is the paternity test of algebra. Where did all these variables come from?  How do I get rid of them!? How did I get to be such a great lawyer even though I talk like a surfer pretending to have a southern accent? Well, let's take a look at who the parents REALLY were.
In factoring with variables, you want to get it so that you end up with the parents; the groups of entities that created the original problem.
To do this you separate out as much of the variable expression as you can.
VARIABLE EXPRESSION!?  Yes, variable expression...
15y² would be an example of a variable expression. It means that there are 15 double possessed y's.
y+2 would also be an example of a variable expression.
Variable expressions would be the entities I was talking about above.  In the case of horror movies, it is usually just a very religious woman and the devil. In the case below, it is 5x² and (1+4x).

5x² + 20x³

 5x²(1 + 4x)

<sup>Suggested Watching: The Devil's Advocate, Angel Heart


Stay tuned for more monster math-- Negative Numbers and Zombies - coming soon!</sup>

Musical Interlude- Hungry Eyes

I've been meaning to tell you, 

I've got this feelin' that won't subside.

I look at you and I fantasize. 

You're mine tonight.

Now I've got you in my sights 

With these hungry eyes.

Hungry Eyes - Eric Carmen

Super Liver to the Rescue!

I have discovered during this bout of "virus syndrome*" that I seem to have a super liver. It is working overtime to filter out any medication so that all the pain killers, anti-inflammatories, and 12 hour cough suppressants/ expectorants I take only last 4 hours.  It is not like I am going to take more of the meds before the time window is up for the next dosage, because . . . it might damage my liver - just in case it decides to stop filtering things out like a crazed weasel. So I just imagine punching it in its helpful face every time the effects of my pills wear off 8 hours before they should, leaving me coughing and snotty and miserable.

*I really think that this "virus syndrome" deserves an actual name since I (and I am sure countless others) get it several times a year.  I usually refer to it as the "zombie flu."  Any other recommendations are welcome.

Not the Flu.

I'm not convinced I have ever had the flu, at this point.  I've been sick for a week now, no end in sight yet, but alas, the doctor says it is just a "virus syndrome" and totally not the flu.  They should probably work on a vaccine  for the virus syndrome.

Troubling Turkey Trends

For some reason, I am completely scandalized at the growing trend I am seeing of people celebrating Thanksgiving early.  I've no idea why it should matter to me, but damn it, Thanksgiving is on THURSDAY!  How dare these people make a completely arbitrary holiday fit their schedule!?

Inconveniencing people is one of the greatest parts of the holidays!

For instance, last year, I wouldn't allow anyone to eat unless they drew a suitable "hand turkey" first.

Armadillos have very bad hearing.

I've found that I make a spectacularly unpleasant sound when I am particularly distraught.  I was not aware that I made this sound until just this year, having only recently found a need for it in my life.  It is not a sound that I like making or that I actually choose to make, but it certainly does a good job of expressing extreme unhappiness.

I would say it most resembles the guttural cry of a wounded animal crossed with the really annoying blaring pattern of a car alarm with just a hint of banshee for good measure.

Upon making it last the other night when my husband briefly knocked himself out by hitting his head into a door jamb, my initial thought (after 'OMG! My husband just knocked himself out by hitting his head into a door jamb!') was 'Augh, I wish that terrible sound would stop! Oh, that is coming from my head. . . I should not make that sound.'

I'll be back!

My computer apparently was not happy about all this work it was having to do and is currently on strike.  Lazy bum was less than a year old. 

It and I have had many words today... well, no, I have had the words, it has sat and stared dumbly off into space whilst blowing bubbles, or the computer equivalent, which is not booting, in this case.

If it had had words for me, it probably would have been something like this:

The artist also cannot spell "apologizes" consistently.

I'll be back as soon as possible! <3

The Reality of Monkey Catchers

I was reading about Obama's visit to India and saw that they were deploying "official monkey catchers" to stop any possible monkey attacks. 
Monkey catcher SOUNDS like a super fun job, until you remember they are actual monkeys and not fun-loving cartoon monkeys.

Imagination:

Reality:

Narwhal Detective Agency

Although I am awesome at being funny and drawing, I think I would make a great detective. I am very good at deductive logic, researching, and have a vast library of stored knowledge in my noggin. Plus, I look great in a trench coat and hat.  I mean, all a private detective is, really, is just a stalker who gets paid, so I should be awesome at it.

I guess I could be a personal online assistant, or a library research assistant although the wardrobe isn't as exciting.  I'm just really good at finding things online, so I figure either I have amazing researching skills, or everyone close to me is totally inept at googling.

Interesting fact: Narwhals have no teeth.  I just learned that by researching it.  See, awesome detective.

Pet Peeves- Part Two

This is the conclusion of yesterday's "Pet peeves- Part one" a series in which I discuss pet peeves.
Today, instead of llamas, we have squirrels!

Pet Peeve #4- The "K" Reply:

I am terrible at texting.  It is probably because I don't actually have a cell phone, though I have the use of one for emergency purposes.  The cell phone that is in my possession is the free type that the store gives you thinking, "This thing is totally nonfunctional, surely this person will buy a better one." But I didn't buy it, and it is only for once in a while, so it is crap.
And I live in Montana, where cell phone towers don't seem to actually exist and we don't have new fangled things on our service like, the ability to receive photos texts on our phones, even with a phone that is not bottom of the barrel.

Anyway, I can't text well, and each short message on my 3+ year old phone takes me about 5 minutes from beginning to end.  It's a lot of effort, so I am therefore peeved when I send out a several sentence text which takes me 3 minutes per sentence to type and I get back a reply of "K."  Even more so when I have asked a question in the text before making a statement and I then have to write another tortuously slow message to clarify.

Someday, I hope to get a real cell phone and maybe some friends so I can add super fast texting to my list of skills.

Pet Peeve #5- Superfluous Questions

I am a question asker.  Most of the time, if I don't understand something, I will ask question after question until I understand.  Thankfully, I am pretty self-reliant so often I try to figure things out myself first, but questions come in handy when interacting with others and trying to understand their motives.  However, there are a few questions that just get my goat, big time. What are these questions, you ask?

There are two major classifications of questions that drive me nuts: The Rhetorical Response and The Unanswerable Opening.

My mom is big on the rhetorical response.  After everything I tell her she answers, "Really!?" 

Me: I had the cafe' burger for lunch.

Mom: Really!?

(silence)

Me: . . . yes. . .

If it didn't shut down the conversation, I wouldn't mind it so much, but what do you answer when someone seems incredulous to every thing you say, and doesn't really respond with anything that lets you continue.  I usually just get mad, or stop talking and think about bacon.

The Unanswerable Opening is usually met with weirdness from me.

Although I am great at deductive logic, I am not great at being met with "Guess what!?" as an opening query.

"Guess what!?"

"You ...sold your feet to a Russia sausage salesman?"

I know I am never going to be right so I figure if I say something weird, people will stop telling me their news that way.

I think this may be exactly why "Chicken butt" was created.

Pet Peeve #6- Pet Peeves?

My last pet peeve is reserved for people who don't understand the concept of pet peeves. You ask them what their pet peeve is and they answer something like, "Lying," or "Racism," or "People who murder babies."  Now, I know that these things are bad, and I don't deny that, but they qualify as quite a bit more than a peeve.
A peeve is supposed to be something with which most people have little to no problem.  A mild personal annoyance. They are supposed to be little things that drive you bonkers but that other people can laugh at.  I don't know a single person who is completely fine with liars, or racists, or baby murderers.  Not one.

So what are some of your pet peeves?

Pet Peeves- Part One

This post is about my pet peeves. I was hoping the title might give that away, but just in case, that is what this is about, pet peeves. Llamas will be playing the part of me in pictures today, because I really like drawing llamas.

Pet Peeve #1 - Things in Chairs:

I was raised in a household where horizontal surfaces were for things.  There was rarely a horizontal surface on which there was not something, or a lot of things, precariously balanced.  It wasn't exactly messy, but it was certainly cluttered.
I still have way too many things and while you can actually see the surface of many of my horizontally-surfaced furniture pieces, the rule is absolutely NO STORING THINGS ON CHAIRS!  Chairs are for people, not things!
Honestly, this is mostly because I don't like cleaning and I don't want to have to stop and move things/put things away when I want to plop down, and though I am not above shoving things on to the floor when I really need to sit down, I ultimately feel guilty about doing so.

Pet Peeve #2- Shower Caddys:

The shower caddy is one of the worst household inventions ever created in my estimation. While I understand that some people find them exceptionally handy, I find them to be an evil contraption of potential energy and fear.

It has never been a matter, with me, of whether or not something would fall off the caddy and smash my feet or scare the crap outta me, but when... because when I have had to endure them in my life (and shower) there has not been a single shower I have taken without something plunging towards my ankles with malicious glee.

Usually, I am sudsing up my hair, eyes closed to avoid getting shampoo in 'em, and CRASH, BANG BOOM! The damned thing has shifted because I accidentally jostled it with my flailing elbow and now I have to say bad words and curse the person who thought putting heavy bottles on a platform high up in your shower was a good idea.

Pet Peeve #3- Damn vs. Damned:

Seriously, this one has almost broken up a relationship.  I'm a word nerd.  I used to read dictionaries for entertainment as a child and I value preciseness in language. I am much more tolerant of other grammar flubs, don't mind bad spelling as long as I can work out the meaning, don't mind prepositions at the end of sentences, but words, I think, should make sense when you use them, and the meaning of damn is not the same as damned. Damned is an adjective, and an adverb-- Damn is a verb.  So, "that damned shower caddy" makes sense because all shower caddies should be damned while "that damn shower caddy" doesn't.  Of course, "Damn that shower caddy!" would work just fine.
But because people use it all the time, it is considered acceptable according to Merriam-Webster, and according to linguistics, the -ed was dropped from many words where two consonants come together because it is difficult for people to pronounce when speaking quickly (for example, ice cream used to be iced cream) so I have ceased writing people off for not using the original, but you will notice, that I make the choice to always write it "damned" when it might well be spoken "damn."

To be continued. . .

A Blue Whale in a Sombrero.

You would think, from pictures like this, that I actually like blue whales.

You should know that I am slightly phobic of them, in fact.When I did the drawing, the other day for my Whale Wars post, I had to look up reference because I avoid looking at blue whales enough that I don't entirely know what they look like. While looking it up, I came upon a picture of a blue whale eye and it literally made my heart palpate. 

I seriously have no idea why I have a blue whale phobia. I first became aware of it while playing "Ecco the Dolphin" on the Dreamcast. Like the first damned mission was saving a baby blue whale who was stuck in a cave, while its gigantic mother hovers behind you whining at you repeatedly to save her poor baby, and I was so anxiety ridden that I never played it past that level. However, I do get panicky while playing video games sometimes, so at the time I just wrote it off as not liking the game.

Shortly after that, it was completely affirmed that the problem was the whale when I was watching Castaway with Tom Hanks.  A blue whale emerges from the sea and looks at him. Again, anxiety. Just imagining it while writing about it makes me feel kinda anxious (wait, that might have been a humpback whale in that movie, but they are close enough that my brain doesn't differentiate).

And still, no idea why I have this. I am fine with dolphins, orcas, narwhals, sperm whales (okay, maybe I'm not completely okay with Sperm Whales having just looked one up, but let's go with it), it is just something about blue whales. 

I mean, they do look a bit like aliens, and they have those crazy songs, and they are FREAKING HUGE and ALIVE... but yeah. I don't like them and I don't want them, but perhaps drawing them will help.


Do you have a phobia? 

How would you draw it to make it less upsetting?

I'm Killroy!

There is a group on Facebook called something like, "When I was a kid, I used to talk into the fan to hear my robot voice." I spent a lot of time doing this as a child singing Mr. Roboto by Styx.


I wonder if robots will at some point use this trick to sound human when they begin their overthrow of the human race.

Of course, because I have written this, I fully expect to be targeted first in this sort of scheme.  I'll just make sure to listen for a lack of contractions when someone knocks on the door and asks to borrow a cup of sugar.

Truth in Advertising- Whale Wars Edition

I was looking through the channel guide last night and I came across a show called Lobster Wars.  This reminded me of another show I've never watched called Whale Wars.  I am not entirely sure what either of these shows are truly about, but this is kinda how I imagine them:

Upon researching both shows, they seem to be not quite this exciting.

GREAT SCOTT!

The Back to the Future series is one of my favorite movie series EVER, with Back to the Future II being my favorite.  I just love all things futuristic, especially big budget 80's futuristic.

 I've watched the 3 movies hundreds of times. I put them on when I am particularly stressed or sad.  It allows me to sleep when I experience insomnia, but I have a major gripe, A MAJOR gripe, that needs to be addressed!

This is the McFly house. 

There is something conspicuously MISSING from this house.

Let me give you a hint-- The story starts October 25, 1985.



WHERE THE HELL ARE THE HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS!?

I mean, fine, maybe the McFly's are Jehovah's Witnesses and they don't celebrate Halloween, though with that drinking that Lorraine is doing and celebrating Uncle Joey's release from prison with a cake, I would imagine not... perhaps another religious sect? Or perhaps they are just lazy? But REALLY, is EVERYONE IS HILL VALLEY RELIGIOUS OR LAZY!? Because there is not a lick of Halloween decorations ANYWHERE! Not a single pumpkin or ghost or ANYTHING to indicate that Halloween is 5-6 days away.

Obviously, it has nothing to do with the plot, but then why set it THAT close to a holiday that is known for decorations?
Again, in 2015 when they arrive 10 days from Halloween, nothing!

Here, this makes me feel better.

 Like I've always told you, you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything!

Hi, I'm Jodee and I'm a compulsive clicker.

Reserve toilet paper should never be stored anywhere but within arm's reach of the toilet. Really.


With that said, I spend an absurd amount of time online clicking and refreshing, clicking and refreshing, and it is all Facebook's fault.
Well, no, it is probably also the fault of my friends who send me game-related gifts, and the people who interact with me in games who I don't know, but it CERTAINLY has nothing to do with the fact that even though it means ABSOLUTELY nothing, I just don't like seeing those damned notification numbers next to my game bookmarks.

And I know it makes me utterly uncool that I play games on Facebook, but... well, I'm uncool, okay... I mean, I think it is fairly obvious that I am uncool, because I am bothered deeply by there being numbers next to my game bookmarks, so much so that I annoy myself by continually clicking and refreshing to get rid of the numbers until it feels like a chore and I want to delete all my games, but then I worry about my make-believe pixel friends and who will feed them and clean the tacos up off their floors.

Lord of the Flus

I got a flu shot the other day, and then I immediately got the body pains of the flu.

I have a theory on this.  I'm fairly certain that the pain that I was feeling can be represented by the following illustration:

I think that my white blood cells may well be setting up stakes all throughout my body like Vikings used to do and are arranging the dead flu cells on these stakes to ward off living flu cells that would be foolish enough to try to attack me. 

They will certainly see this display and say to each other, "NO!!! They've found a way to kill us, RUN AWAY!"

So it's a lot like that scene in Lord of the Flies only this is Lord of the Flus... and it hurts.

A mouse is not an option.

I hate my scrollbar SO much.  I don't know if it is supposed to act this way or if it is totally defective, but it acts like it is totally defective.
Here I am, reading my pages of social media... la la la, happily reading Facebook or LJ and KAPOW! It decides, YOU'VE READ ENOUGH! BACK TO THE TOP! HOORAY!

Now, I am left handed and that may be what is causing its grudge against me... I mean it all started with scissors... goddamned scissors... it seems to go against physics that tilting the cutting surface slightly to the left should make them NOT WORK AT ALL... but I really should be used to this treatment from office supplies by now.

But yes, my fingerpad laptop scrolly-wheelbar-- it hates me and doesn't want me to keep in touch with my friends and family. And it isn't even consistent.  Sometimes it skips up, sometimes we are transported to the bottom of the page.  I shudder to think if it could scroll me side to side.