I'm A Meat Popsicle.

I prefer to shower at night, or in the afternoon. That way I can put off sitting around with my head damp and freezing for as long as possible. During the winter, in this little house we've moved into, I have found that showering at night is a problem. The fan in our bathroom that's activated by our light switch is a conduit directly to outside, so turning the switch on means I am pumping fast moving sub-arctic air into a room where a fine mist of water is supposed to be warming me up (and cleaning me, yadda yadda). So until I get fed up and buy a lamp for the bathroom, my solution currently is just showering in the dark. My husband thought I did this because I'm a goth or something. I really have no idea what he thinks I'm doing half the time because he never asks, really, he just dutifully turns off the light for me and goes away, probably wondering why the hell he married such a weirdo.

And, in other news, the brand new computer I bought... it died... two weeks after getting it. The hard drive has been replaced after much complaining and flailing. They kindly sent out an awesome nerd tech named Nic who talked to me about fun nerd topics while we waited for it to actually install.

And I am working hard on a new novel, writing at least an hour every day. It deals with current affairs and is an R rated vigilante thriller. Becoming a patron on patreon with the button below can get you access to excerpts weekly with a pledge of just 3 dollars a post (with no more than 4 posts a month- so a minimum of 12 bucks a month maximum! Wait, that was confusing. it could be 3-12 bucks for access to good stuff). There are also art bonuses for higher levels of patronage.

Terrible Product Ideas - New Soda Flavor

When I come home from grocery shopping, I tell my husband all of the new and wonderful products I've found/bought during that day's shopping trip. I was having a brain fog day where words are hard to find, so I paused in the middle of describing a new treat, looking for the word I wanted and this was my husband's guess given the first word I had said. It spawned the idea for this comic/new terrible product.

with plans for extra exclusive content!

Rosetta Stone for Goats

click the comic to biggify

My husband was gifted a copy of Rosetta Stone during the holidays. He asked me to help him install it. My instructions were: Put the disk in the computer. Follow the instructions. Don't eat the disk.

He ain't afraid of no ghosts.

Fifteen years ago tonight, after our second date, my husband told me he was in love with me and asked me to be his girlfriend. That sounds all sweet and romantic BUT, it is even more so when you take into consideration the fact that I sneezed directly into his hand during said date... and not like a cute little "achoo, 'scuse me!" sneeze. No, it was a full-on first day of the flu, "SHE SLIMED ME!" sneeze... directly into the palm of his hand.

This was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. We were in the theater watching a movie (I Still Know What You Did Last Summer), he was to my right, had his arm around me, and was holding my left hand. I was slightly aware that this horrible flu was coming on, and this terror was building in my mind... it was a very short process, but it was something like, "OH GOD, I HAVE TO SNEEZE! I'M LEFT-HANDED. I NEED MY HAND! SURELY IF I PULL, HE'LL LET GO!!" But he didn't, and instead of being smart and sneezing into my right hand, I turned my head, tugged, met resistance, and the sneeze was there, and so was a ton of snot and slobber on his hand, which I had pulled right over my face.

I was pretty sure he was going to break it off right then, so I was pleasantly surprised when he asked me to be his girl instead of running off before the movie even ended, which, I suspect, is what I would have done had someone deposited that amount of mucus on me during a date. 

This is the title, bitch!

I started watching Breaking Bad on Netflix, finally, during my birthday trip last week. I admit, I was being a wiener not wanting to watch it, because shows/movies about drugs annoy me, but when I heard that everyone was super stoked with the ending (which none of you will spoil for me, under threat of needle felting urethras), I figured I should stop being such a butthole and just watch it. After one episode, I was totally hooked... like a meth head.

So, I got home and my husband wants me to wait and watch the show with him. Or rewatch... since he has seen at least 3 seasons, perhaps more, which I have not, but there are two problems:

a.) He keeps spoiling shit seconds before it happens, as in, "Oh yeah, I remember, this is where the monkey takes all the meth.*"

b.) He also suffers from TV induced narcolepsy, so he keeps falling asleep 3/4 into each episode we watch and then I can't watch 10 in a row, and it is really frustrating.**

*As far as I know, there is no monkey using meth in the series, I just tried to make up something that doesn't seem like it will happen... if I have spoiled a meth monkey plot unwittingly, I am sorry.

** Perhaps we should get him some meth so I can watch as much as I'd like in a day (That was a joke, DEA, please don't come here, I make jokes for a living).

Truth in Advertising- Glucosulin

This commercial from Glucosulin, a super duper magic pill to make diabetics lose weight, is providing my husband and me with unending amusement every time it comes on. Beyond the fact that it is almost guaranteed that it doesn't work (which is beyond the point), I have no idea who approved their animation for "weight loss." Seriously... it could not have been anyone with any sense.  At all.

Below, I have edited the commercial to share what it sounds like in my house every time it airs.

(RSS readers, there is a video here, come watch it!)

(original source)

Brilliant Product Idea #4: The Only Riding Lawn Mower That Makes Sense

I was driving past a golf course the other day, after my husband had been bragging about our lawn (that he had just mowed) being the nicest lawn in town. He's probably not wrong. He is Mr. Green Thumbs. I kill plants by thinking of them. That is beside the point. I was imagining my adorable redheaded husband woefully being engulfed in flames if it were his job to mow an entire golf course... and then someone drove by in a golf cart and I thought, why in the hell don't riding mowers have roofs!?



They need roofs. And air conditioning. It is not like lawn mowing is a night activity, or done when the sun isn't trying to give us all skin cancer by mutating all of our cells with its evil evil brightness. How come no one has jumped on this yet?

Wait, someone has... and it costs over 100,000 dollars!!

 source

This is patently ridiculous. A car with air conditioning costs less than $20k and a riding lawnmower costs less than $2000. Surely, we can put these together for less than 100,000 dollars. It really shouldn't be that hard.

Nerd Date #1 -Walking Tour

I wanted to share some pictures from the fun date I had with my husband yesterday.

 I am slightly obsessed with New York City, and so is my husband, if you guys didn't know, but I am also incredibly broke all the time. As much as I would like to visit NYC often or move there, it ain't gonna happen with our current income, so we went on a walking tour of the Chelsea neighborhood of New York via Google Street View. My lottery plan is to live in the building in the top picture, and so we wandered around the neighborhood looking for the best routes to the Chelsea Market, where I will someday accost Food Network Stars and make them be my BFFs whether they like it or not.

Anyway, it was a little goofy but really fun, so I thought I would put the idea out there so other people can utilize my virtual walking tour. Just pick a place you would love to visit, pull it up on Google Street View, and "walk" around together. And remember, many museums have interactive tours online too, so you can visit all kinds of cool places right from the comfort of your home and no one gets mad if you aren't wearing pants.


(All pictures screencapped from fullscreen street view using Google Maps)

Tattoos... The final frontier.

I keep trying to egg my husband into getting a new tattoo.  He keeps telling me to shut up.

My husband has a lot of tattoos. I know I knew how many at one time, but he is wearing clothes and napping so I can't count for accuracy's sake, but it is somewhere around 18, one of which takes up most of his lower right arm.

The tattoo I have planned for him is, of course, for humor's sake, and also because I love Star Trek (he likes it, but gets annoyed when I watch TNG for hours on end. Pfft, doesn't change my mind. He needs this tattoo. It is the only thing that makes sense).

This is my artist's rendering- that is his actual hand. It would be on his left ring finger:

Tattoo Mock up w/o Wedding Ring

 Tattoo Mock up with Wedding Ring

Sucky, Suckier, Suckiest.

Last week was one of the suckiest of suck weeks in my life. I just had to add suckiest to my dictionary, because really, it needs to recognize degrees of suck. So yeah, it started off innocuously enough with awesome stuff on TV. I don't watch all that much TV any more, but Sunday evenings, I am there from 6-midnight, pretty much. It brings me joy.  The rest of the week, not so much. 

So yeah, I am back to being destitute, and my mom has thyroid cancer. She goes in a week to have it removed and hopefully that will be the end of it. They assured us that although it is a very large tumor, it is unlikely that it has metastasized, so she should be just fine... hopefully.

The husband losing the job is another matter all together. It took him a year to get a job last time, and places around here aren't really hiring, so I am trying to convince him to go pick up applications for jobs where he obviously isn't going to get hired wearing a magician's cape, since I figure he might as well be amused if he is going to be rejected. Also because flourishing a cape while introducing yourself and asking for an application sounds incredibly fun and the man seriously needs some fun.

So if anyone has an adult sized magician's cape they could loan us, just let me know!

My Bad Summer of Eating Date with @Bing and @Klout

I took my husband out on a date today because I tried to take him on a date yesterday only to find the restaurant we wanted to go to didn't open at normal hours on Sunday, and now that my husband is working again, we can only do things on Sundays and Mondays because those are his days off.

I also took him out because I got a perk from Klout.com and Bing.com (because I am super popular), where I was given a wine set and a $10 Visa giftcard to celebrate their Summer of Eating promotion.
I even told our awesome waitron why we were there and she wrote down Klout.com in her order taking thingy, because she likes free things as much as everyone else likes free things, and as much as I like free things, which is an awesome reason to sign up for Klout.com-- because I have gotten quite a few great free things from them.

Only, when it came time to pay, I pulled out my super duper Visa giftcard, and IT DIDN'T FREAKING WORK.

It was like  one of those moments when you go on a date with some guy who picked you up on the internet and then after you have eaten delicious food that you THOUGHT he was gonna pay for, he is all, "Oh, sorry, I guess my card isn't working..." and you're all "FINE, the waitron has swiped your card three times and you need to know that I am SO NOT PUTTING OUT NOW, but fucking fuck, I'll pay for it. Asshole!"

That's how Klout/Bing made me feel.  They were the bad date that screws you over and makes you pay for the food they promised you, because THEY sure as hell aren't going to wash dishes to pay for this meal. Not that I would really expect them to, because websites and water don't really mix, but yeah, I was pretty damned disappointed.

That doesn't mean that I won't get free stuff from them again if its available, and that I didn't appreciate what they were TRYING to give me.  It was exciting to get such a cool perk.  And hey, I have this awesome wine set (though I don't drink wine, or anything I could use a wine set with). I'm sure I can find a use for it and as always, suggestions are welcome and illustrations are worth extra points.

It totally looks like a fancy murdering kit to me, but my parents bought me an Infamous Murderers book for Hanukkah when I was a teenager, so that probably explains that line of thought.


I just wish that after touting how awesome Klout and Bing were on twitter and in the restaurant, the friggen card worked so I didn't look like one of those girls...



And I think this kinda goes without saying, because of the content of this "review" but:

Influencer disclosure

I was given a free product or sample because I'm a Klout influencer. I was under no obligation to receive the sample or talk about this company. I get no additional benefits for talking about the product or company.

They call it a PET for a reason...

My husband bought a $3 fish tank from Good Will. He likes fishes. I have a general distrust of any pet that you cannot hug without killing.

He hasn't actually gotten a fish yet, because, as he informs me:

Mr. Rose: I have to get gravel and fish food and you have to get it an "air stone" because fish will use up all the oxygen in the water and suffocate.

Me: Wait, that doesn't sound right... if they use up all the oxygen, does that mean they are just swimming in liquid hydrogen? Does it cease to be water? Since water is H2O and they're using ALL the oxygen...

Mr. Rose [interrupting]: Fine, let me rephrase that. I have to get an air stone because if I just put the fish in there it will die. I don't know why.

Me: I think it is because fish are assholes.

Hungry for the Games of Hunger

I'm excited to watch The Hunger Games in the theater next week during the first cheap matinee. My husband doesn't read... not that he can't. I know for a fact that he has the ability, he just doesn't have the attention span to read fiction. My point was, though, that I get to share the story with him, as a result of the movie, and about that I am excited. I have described it to him as The Running Man, but with kids... (and also a tamer Battle Royale) and so I have managed to trick him into going, which is bitchin'.

Also, now I can stop drawing doofy fan pictures!

Katniss, your denseness makes me want to gut you with your own hunting knife, but the rest of your story is boss!

We HEART New York!

I knew ordering "Swords Daily" was a bad idea.

Burger Times

I am entirely unable to fathom why, when you go to a fast food restaurant and order your food without bread, they then become completely unable to put condiments on meat and cheese. I get the concept that they are most likely accustom to putting the ketchup and mayonnaise on the bread, but it really isn't that hard.
In fact, every time they refrain from putting condiments on my sad and lonely bunless burgers, I am somehow able to put condiments on it, myself, so clearly it is not rocket science.

Today, at our local Burger Royalty restaurant, I took note of the very handsome older gentleman who works there. When I say handsome, I mean, nearly as handsome as 60 year old Clint Eastwood. I have to assume he either was a ranch hand who murdered his employer and has recently gotten out of prison on parole, or that he raped a 14 year old in the 1960s, because I cannot come up with another reason that some one of that age, who is so attractive, would need to (or choose to) work at a burger joint. He was, incidentally, standing right behind me while I told my mother this theory. If I go missing, it was probably him.

Also, RE: Bunless burgers... FORKS AND KNIVES, assholes. Seriously.

Scrooged.

I'm having a hard time getting into the holiday spirit this year.

For the first time in. . . forever, actually, I think, I cannot afford to send gifts to my friends around the country.

Of course, they will understand, but the problem is, sending things out to people is also MY gift.

The whole process of baking fiddly things and then having to bake more because the monster version of my husband eats half the batch of cookies in the middle of the night, and packaging them up with funny labels, and dealing with the heinously rude jerk mail lady, Betty, after waiting in a giant line, sweating to death because I am wearing 2 sweaters and a fluffy coat and the post office is toasty warm, is my present to myself.
I don't get many presents, so I usually sustain myself by sending things out and being elf-like.  Not LOTR elf-like, more of the Harry Potter/Keeblerish type, and that I can't afford that right now kinda makes me one grumpy asshole.

And unfortunately, "Jesus" being "the reason for the season" doesn't really work for me, because I am Jewish and the Maccabees are the reason for the season, which doesn't ring quite as nicely, since they were an army, and long burning oil during a cleaning binge isn't terribly inspiring. So, barring some unexpected windfall,  I guess this year I'll gorge myself on latkes and Christmas cookies and then I'll go out and find some orphans to kick and maybe staple little antlers on some dormice.

As an aside, I've never understood why they make places so damned hot inside during the winter when people are dressed warmly anyway.  I mean, I don't need it to be negative degrees inside too, but it should be cool enough that people don't get heat stroke while waiting in line, buying eggnog.

It's (also) a Trap!

We've still not caught the mouse.  In fact, my husband is the only person in the house who has seen this mouse, and I am beginning to wonder if he is having rodent-centric hallucinations.
I bought two more humane traps today because he keeps seeing it in different rooms of the house, and since the trap in the dinning room area wasn't enticing it, it seemed only logical to get more.

Pro-tip for you: When you get a humane mouse trap, you have to put down the little flange so the effing mouse can get in it.

It's all brown to me!

For quite some time, I thought my husband was just difficult, intermittently.  Yesterday, I was driving him to a business in the next town over.  He had been there before and I hadn't.  Remembering that I am neurotic, I get a little anxious when I don't know exactly where I am going.  Remembering that I live in Montana (which is code for The Wild West), we went from being on a modern paved road to a scary dirt/rock road in the matter of a turn. I asked him where it was and he said "It's the green building." And so I looked around, passed a few buildings, and kept driving down the rocky road at which point I asked "Which green building?!" because there were no more buildings.
"The one BACK THERE!"

It was then that I remembered that my husband is colorblind.

I didn't find out my husband was colorblind until we had been married for 10 years.  He didn't know he was colorblind either, in fact. We were out together and he needed to make a call on the cell phone. He is not great with technologies, and so I was coaching him through it.  "Just press the green button once and choose the number you need to call, and then press the green button again."  And then, suddenly, he was greatly annoyed with me. "THERE IS NO GREEN BUTTON!"
"Uh, yes there is... it is opposite of the red button."
"THERE IS NO RED BUTTON!!!"
"Wha? Here! It's right here."
"That's green?"

I've learned many interesting things about color blindness.  For example, he can see traffic light colors just fine but he cannot see light colors on a phone.  He can't see that he has red hair in a mirror but can see it in photographs. And of course, he thinks that tan and gray buildings are green, which they totally aren't.

In case you happen to be colorblind, the words in the bubble are the title of this image.

Happy Anniversary- My Wedding Cake Wreck

Twelve years ago today, I was getting married in a hurricane. And I had a really ugly cake.

Being the artistic type that I am, I, of course, had an artistic vision for my cake.  I was very into Martha Stewart at the time (I still love her, but I am a bit less obsessed.  For example, I no longer tape her shows, all of them, to watch later because I am doing other things. I think I have just seen them all now, though) and so my cake was a simple clean design.  I drew it from different angles, attached swatches of color for them to match it to my dress (which I also designed and which came out almost as bad as my cake) and took it to Pubic's Supermarket to have it made. Now, yes, I know, when you have a wedding cake made at a grocery store, it is not made by the top bakers in the country. I'm poor and my design was simple enough that I thought it would work, AND they have the most delicious frosting of all the stores in the entire United States.

So this was my design :

I went over it with the baker. Yes all green and ivory. No other colors. Just stacked. etc.

This was the cake of my dreams. So simple, yet different.  So Martha.



This, on the other hand,

was NOT the cake of my dreams.

The cake was not set up before the wedding started, which I am kind of glad of. I'd already had enough disappointment with my dress. Before I entered the reception, my mom sidled up to me and whispered, "You're gonna be mad."

Thankfully, someone managed to snap a picture of me reacting to my first view of it, while my husband laughed at me, most likely because I was saying dirty words and questioning the IQ of the decorator.

That is my "WTF is this shit!?" look.

No really, let's break this down.

Totally NOT Martha!

But it really was delicious, especially since I got my money back for it. Plus, it gave us something to eat while we sat in my grandma's house with no power during aforementioned hurricane.

I'd also like to mention that both of my parents, while walking me down the aisle, stepped on the train of my dress, almost knocking me over.  I am going to guess, for my sanity, that it was not planned.


p.s. My comment section no longer has captchas in an attempt to get you people to comment more. YES, YOU PEOPLE! =P

Actual Conversations- Fire and Goats

These are hilarious and inappropriate, in that order. Because me and my friends are punny. You have been warned.