Why I Should Not Be Given Comment Boxes.

I went to order delicious chicken wings last night because I am a fan of chicken wings because they are delicious, and I had the option to order online, which is like HEAVEN for someone who is socially awkward and hates talking on the phone, which would accurately describe me. The ordering form, however, was broken into three different pages, only, I had no idea it was broken into three different pages, hence my comment on the first page, but then each page had its own comment section. This is what the order ended up looking like:

This is not something I did to make a funny blarg post about how weird I am. This is how I am. It is an unfortunate way to be when people don't take it well, but thankfully the cashier assured me ("JRose, with all the comments"), that they heartily enjoyed laughing at my social ineptitude, which works for me (since I detected no spit in my meal at all).

And if you have a Wing Stop near you, I highly recommend the Garlic Parmesan wings. They are totally worth the money. Even though, apparently, chicken wings are one of the rarest food parts of all time for how much places charge for them.

Now Make Like a Tree and Get Out of Here.

I don't know what kind of internet shitbowl thinks it is awesome to try to trick people into thinking that TODAY is the day that Marty McFly time traveled into the future.

I've covered this before in my ranty Back to the Future post entitled "Great Scott" but I'll say it again:

Marty McFly visited October 21, 2015.

I told someone that today when he claimed that today, my 13th wedding anniversary is the day "Marty Went To." In response to my correction, he linked me to this:

• First of all, that is a picture of Marty McFly in 1955.
• Second of all, YOU'RE A STUPID ASSHOLE. I just TOLD YOU what day Marty McFly went to. I even doubled checked by going to a Back to the Future Wiki because you shouldn't correct people when you are not right. 
• Lastly, you need to have your internets taken away permanently, because you don't know how they work.

The point is, I could likely make that time circuit readout read "YOUR MOM" and it wouldn't mean that Marty McFly traveled to your mom. It means that people on the internet are shit strainers and like to trick people into making me angry.

This image is photoshopped. Marty McFly never went to your mom.

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.

Don't Get Attached.

This morning, I tried to convince my mom to stop using crapo.com for her email service after talking her through the set up for a gmail account.  She pays 10 dollars a year for crapo-mail and has been using it since 1997.   It won't attach more than one item at a time. It sends forwards as attachments.  It takes up to two hours to send emails to my hotmail account at peak hours. It is, in fact, a piece of crap, especially for a paid service. She thinks it is fine.

I think that there is a fundamental difference in the way my generation uses computers compared to that of my mother's generation.   When I use a computer, having had access to them the majority of my life, I want the process to be completely efficient. I want to avoid erroneous clicking and mouse movements and downloading anything, ever. If I am forwarded something, the last thing I want to do is download a file to my computer that I have to open with another program to read a joke about a cheeky octogenarian ordering milk for a bath.  We don't even have milkmen anymore! And who the hell sells unpasteurized milk!?

My mom, on the other hand, is used to reading mail the conventional (read:old fashioned) way.  She expects to open an envelope, unfold a letter, and flip through the 6 different attached Sunday Funnies clipped from the newspaper, so she has no qualms about having to click 4 different things to get a stupid joke forward to open.  If she could do eBay via postcard, she would.  She won't, however, click links that I send her in emails.  Somehow she has learned that downloading things on her computer is fine, but links are super dangerous, especially those sent by your computer savvy daughter. Or maybe it is because crapo-mail doesn't generate clickable links in their incoming emails and she doesn't know how to copy and paste them...

Sick Day

I meant to post yesterday, continuing my Harry Potter series, but here is what I did instead.  The aforementioned series will continue (and possibly conclude tomorrow, don't know... I'll figure it out as the fancy strikes me...) but I thought this was important to share today.  So without further ado, what I did yesterday instead of posting:

Whine about being hungry on the internet on the off chance that someone would feed me.

Get up, because I have to pee anyway and make a tortilla with some cheese on it, because it is the only savory food in the house that takes little preparation to make.

Sneeze x 112

Cough x 389

Get craving for spice cake. Ask the internet to get me some.

Wait for the internet to ignore me totally.

Make "should be" funny comments on people's Facebook posts

Take Thera-flu pill. Drink out of cranberry juice bottle. Realize I am sick and have just contaminated entire bottle. 

(p.s. don't drink the cranberry juice, it is contaminated)

Take shower while pill kicks in. 

Yell at shower curtain to stop touching me. Threaten to set it on fire. 

No, really, this thing is like a pervy guy on a subway.. 'oh I'm sorry, was I all rubbing on your butt... how silly of me, I didn't mean to do that. *rub rub rub*'

Collect the 17 used tissues that are on the floor and bed and throw away.

Notice I am starving . Go to eat bowl of Smores cereal. Realize I can't really smell... hope that the milk is still okay while sniffing in vain.

Take nap, a.k.a. fall into antihistamine stupor.  

The Case of the Missing Reactions

If you have no idea what it is like to be neurotic or don't really know what I mean by "I'm neurotic," this post should help you. 

Now, I know that some of you watch my blarg via RSS, which is a different format from the actual blogger site, so you probably don't see that each post allows you to choose, "like," "funny," hilarious," or "llama." They are there because I thrive on feedback, so if you don't feel like commenting, you can always click a ticky box and stroke my ego.

For quite some time though, when I load my main blarg page in the morning, I notice that some of my reactions from the day before have disappeared. Logically, I know this is most likely a glitch, but this is the story my brain tries to convince me is true:

Oh look, Da Cheeseblarg has updated! Hooray!

I must let her know how much I enjoyed this post!

HILARIOUS!

That reminds me, I need to order some cheese!

FARMVILLE!

TOAST BLASTERS 2000!

UNFUNNY! SUCK IT, JROSE!

Ode to State Taxes

Montana, I would like to pay you taxes on all of our income, but you won't give me any information ANYWHERE on your website on where to list OTHER FREAKING INCOME on ANY OF YOUR TAX FORMS!!!!! Or maybe you do, but the fact is that I can not find it anywhere by looking in the booklets of ALL of the different tax forms, or the forms themselves (using ctrl-f), or by searching your website, or by sacrificing virgins on your digital alter in the hopes that maybe you will have some freaking mercy on me. Because we are talking about a $1000 discrepancy. A THOUSAND DOLLARS that is on a 1099-misc which you don't have space for anywhere... so I can just assume you don't want me to count that money, but I am guessing you probably would like the additional 20 bucks of tax money from me on that, and I would REALLY like to avoid being audited or corrected again like last year, or whatever, and I am certainly not paying 30 bucks to have H&R Block do it. . .


I just have to say, the state of Montana is very lucky that I am filing electronically or I would be rubbing the tax forms all over my ass before sending them out!

Fine, damn it, I called and talked to Tax Man Brian and I found out where to put the damned thing, but in this day and age I should not have to interact with actual humans to get information!

Hi, I'm JRose 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.