Share if you're against banality.

Okay, this has reached a fever pitch that I can no longer ignore.

I saw this posted on Facebook today:

At which point, I was forced to point out the fact that I don't know a single person that is FOR animal cruelty. I mean, I understand the sentiment, but EVERYONE, when they really think about it is against animal cruelty... or at least everyone on Facebook. I have never met a single person who has declared on their social media, "I love beating the shit out of lizards!"

Yes, there are people who commit animal cruelty, and they TOTALLY suck, but even if they go into it thinking "ANIMAL CRUELTY IS MY FAVORITE!" are they going to be swayed by a graphic on Facebook?!

"Dang, I was gonna flog this goat, but Facebook overwhelmingly doesn't like animal cruelty, so cuddle it is!"

As a protest to stupid, obvious AGAINST graphics, I have made a few of my own. Please, feel free to share them passive aggressively!

Also, my mom thinks I am going to get in trouble for my "fire/babies/stabbing" joke, so don't prove her right, damn it.

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.

How to tell if someone is depressed, or maybe a hipster.

I couldn't be bothered to put on pants today to leave the house.

I don't mean I went out buck-assed naked on the bottom half, I just couldn't be bothered to put on ACTUAL pants to leave the house today.  Nor a bra.

I was just going to pick my nephew up from school and knew I was not getting out of my car (unless it somehow exploded into flames or something), so I think I am still safe.  When I start walking around in public wearing pajama pants and an old shirt with no bra, it is probably time for medication.

Although, one time, when I was in college, I decided that I would wear my flannel pajama top with a pair of jeans because it was cold out and I thought the top was cute.  I ended up at the health clinic and a lovely, but very concerned doctor tried to diagnose me with depression.  I assured him I had a raging case of weirdness, but that I had not giving up on life because I made ill-advised fashion choices.

It's the bra, really.  As long as someone who needs it is wearing a bra or some sort of chestal support with non-sexy clothing , I am willing to believe that they still have some sort of hold on their sanity. As long as the bra is worn as prescribed, of course.  It doesn't count if it is on the outside of their clothes, or on their head.  And even that can be argued for the sake of fashion, I suppose. I really don't know how to gauge it for people who don't need bras. Not brushing their hair? Wearing sweatpants to work when their job does not involve working out in cold climates? Am I just describing hipsters now?

Change is hard.

I don't buy into the whole, "If it's free, you can't complain" dogma.  My lungs are free, came with the package, but I am totally complaining, as loudly as I possibly can, if they stop working in a useful and helpful way. Something being free doesn't and shouldn't preclude it from receiving feedback, as far as I am concerned.

I do, however, think that making the best of everything is the easiest policy, for one's own sanity, and I rarely join in the "OMG! MAKE IT GO BACK!" crowd. I would rather just make fun of the situation and get on with it... so I have annotated my personal Facebook page below to give everyone a positive spin on all the changes that have happened to the Facebook Layout.

While it seems horrifically changed, it really isn't.  

• There is the addition of the "Awesome Stalk-O-Matic ™" scrolling bar on the right - which is perfect for people who like to obsessively keep up with their favorite people and see EVERY SINGLE INTERACTION THEY HAVE... which is right up my alley.  

          These can likely be cut down by altering your subscriptions to people you don't give a damn about.

• Then there is the "Ninja Algorithm Cool Stuff ™" that is marked by little blue triangles which seems to have no rhyme or reason, but a game can be made of trying to figure out the pattern.

• And all the other stuff that you saw before the change lives underneath the new stuff. Mostly. Except possibly your own posts. Unless you are popular. 

Ask me no questions.

I have a problem.  It seems, sometimes, like the words that I say are translated to the people around me by an utterly drunken bunch of babel fish.  I understand that it could be my tone of voice, or a look on my face, but people regularly translate questions I ask into demands.

It is very frustrating and causes a lot of arguments. And while I could just stop asking questions, I suppose, and stare dumbly out the window at all times, ignoring the world around me, I am a question asker by nature.  If I don't understand what is going on around me, I ask.
Apparently, other people don't do this and instead use questions as some passive aggressive message delivery system, from the responses I get, because I rarely just get an actual response to my questions... from anyone.  Everyone seems to be trying to figure out the secret code in my question in an attempt to figure out what my implication is, and all I get are scoffs when I explain that I am really JUST asking questions.  Now, if I ever got an actual answer, I might make a request using the information I received...

But most of the time, I would most likely respond with a simple "Oh, okay. Thanks."

If you thought I was a freak before...

I, now, am both afraid of telling you guys things about me that are "controversial," since I lost at least 6 followers for revealing that I don't want to procreate, and I, alternatively, want to tell you things to weed out the people who just can't read things by people who _______________ (fill in the blank).  That being said, I have a terrible secret to share with you all, and if you have to go, I understand (actually, no I don't.... but, whatever) so here goes:

I... I don't drink coffee OR alcohol.

I know, start throwing crap at me now, but not literally, that is super gross.

For the record, I like coffee, it tastes hella delicious, mostly-- when heavily diluted with cream and sugar, but drinking it makes my stomach and/or intestines wage war on me.
Alcohol, on the other hand, does exactly the same thing to me but also makes me feel like I am completely drunk from the moment it touches my lips and though I have only been actually drunk one time in my life for real, a time when I threatened my friend with a knife while doing dishes because he tried to convince me to be logical when I was having a total emotional freakout, which is what brought on the drinking of Chambord and cream in the first place (see, I can't even make logical decisions of what kinds of alcohol to drink), I decided I probably didn't need to test my ability to act not completely insane while drunk, ever again.

I found out, recently, that both aversions are actually the result of a food intolerance, but that doesn't make up for the fact that not drinking coffee or alcohol really cuts down on your ability to socialize.  Nobody asks people out to go get a glass of bacon (and if they did, I assure you I would be totally up for it) it's always chatting over a cup of joe, or a glass of wine, or a fifth of whiskey.

But really, if  you're still reading this and haven't decided that I am so untrustworthy that you can't bear to ever read my blarg again, ask me to hang out and chat over a hot cup of bacon. I'm totally there.

Offer for social engagements of bacon consumption are subject to terms and conditions. May not be available in your area. Candy can be substituted for bacon in some situations.