Dead, dead, deadski.

My best friend of 14 years died in November. She was hilarious and smart and beautiful and a fantastic writer and it's really hard living without her. It's probably harder for her eight year old daughter who she left behind while she lingered in a coma for 6 months, while we all waited, some with more hope than others, to see if she would finally wake up. But damn it, it's hard for me.

When I think of her being gone, I think, "my Tracey is dead," but when I mention it elsewhere in the world, I change it to, "she passed away," or she "succumbed to her illness" or some other euphemism, not because I need to say it, but because I think people will somehow think I'm a jerk for plainly stating she is no longer alive.

I never hear anyone else using dead in conjunction with the death of a loved one. Does everyone else want to use it, but feel the same as I do? Like they have to make it into a poem to talk about it? Like other people might break, or think you just don't care if you plainly say, "Tracey died"?

Is it the proximity of the death? My previous best friend, Aimee, died 10 years ago, (I might add at this point, I'm a little afraid to claim another best friend as this seems to be a trend), and saying, "My friend died 10 years ago" doesn't feel quite as jarring. Does the fact that Tracey just fell through the veil (to borrow from the imagery of Harry Potter, which we both loved), make it seem that she could be right back if only I don't make it plain to others where she is? Is saying "she's dead" like a lock that keeps her trapped in the next world, where as "she passed away" allows for her to change her mind and pop back in, like she went out to smoke a cigarette with Jesus and changed her mind?

My Tracey is dead. She died because of the weird autoimmune disease we both have (had?) and I miss her every day. I miss her when I watch Seinfeld and when I read Stephen King books, and when I see the previews for the new Harry Potter movie that she'll never see unless a next world actually exists and has the same entertainment offerings as ours. I love her, and I always will, and I hate feeling that I have to compose a poem to lessen the sorrow of her loss for other people every time I want to mention that I had a friend and I don't any more.

Don't Be That Atheist.

Do you have that one friend? The one who, no matter what you say, absolutely has to correct you based on his or her belief? I think you know the type. The BAD ATHEIST?

Although I count as an atheistic Jew myself, I regularly make reference to God. Whether it is repeated OMG! OMG! OMG! (like when Conan O'Brien said my name), or comically shaking my fists at the sky in frustration, though I choose not to worship any god that may or may not exist, I am fine with colloquial references, because, Jesus Christ, I live in America and God is all up in this bitch.

I do not count as the Bad Atheist, though, because while I may be thinking, "Yeah, Jesus is totally not going to make you pass your physics tests that you prayed about instead of studying for," I am not going to say it out loud to you because, I don't give a shit what other people believe as long as they aren't jerks. I also don't really care if you pass that test... especially if you didn't bother to study.

To me, mentioning God is akin to talking about how awesome unicorns are, and drawing everything as zombies. Yes, I friggen know they are most likely just a figment of our imaginations, but tons of people dig them, so their existence in reality is not an issue to me.

The Bad Atheist, however, is that jerk who compulsively has to pipe in:

Clown Fish Sandwich

Is there any kind of Tuna that is not a fish that is getting confused with Tuna fish out there?

The Devolution of English

I was searching for the origin of the phrase "Hit the nail on the head" the other day, because I like words and knowing the origin of things makes me feel superior, and also gives me things to talk about when I am forced to interact with other humans on rare occasions. In this particular etymology, there was a sample of the first recorded use of the phrase and I came to the realization that our language seems to be coming full circle:

 -Old English-

  (source)                     

-New English-

(source)   

my friends are funny, and helpful.

Not all that different...

Valentine's Cards: Set One: Smutty Foods

Valentine's day is coming up, and what better way to be incredibly forward than with inappropriate but adorable cards, made by me.

There will be more themed sets forthcoming, so check back.  Also, all cards are available in my Zazzle shop*, in case you want to express your desires offline.

*If you are trying to find the cards in the Zazzle shop, but they don't seem to be there, please click the "content filter" link in the left navigation strip (it is towards the bottom), and allow PG-13 items to be shown, and they will magically appear. 


Without further ado... SMUTTY FOODS WISHING YOU HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

Feel free to share this, as you see fit!

How Outlines are Trying to Ruin My Life.

I am extremely mad at outlines, because I am fairly certain they are the only reason why my spell checker doesn't mark lower case "I"s as incorrect.

I will now outline all the reasons that outlines should go fuck themselves.

"Why Outlines Should Go Fuck Themselves"

I. They make me look stupid when I accidentally type "i" instead of "I" when typing quickly.
     A.  I am not dumb
               i. I have a college degree.
              ii. I graduated 8th in my high school class with a grade point average of 3.919.
             iii. I use big words and stuff.

     B. I should get kudos for typing quickly, instead of looking foolish.
               i. I learned to touch type by chatting for hours on end, which makes me cool.
              ii. I use more than one finger per hand to type, and am the only person in my household to do so.
             iii. I can type in the dark and while watching reality TV shows.

II.New outlines don't even use roman numeral support lists anymore.
     A. Apparently, kids today can't handle roman numerals.
               i. They're not being forced to conform to the stupid standards that we were, which is kinda unfair.
              ii. If I had to do that shit, they should have to also.

     B. Spell Checkers are totally out of date.
              i. In addition to not marking lower case "I"s as incorrect since Arabic numbers are now the
                standard, they don't know the word Wasabi.
                   1.Or internet. . .
                        a. But they do know the word shillelagh.

III. Conclusion.
     A. Outlines and Spell Checkers are acting in collusion to screw up my ability to look like the smarty pants I am.
            i. They should go fuck themselves, as a result.

Saying Sorry: A Guide

"IF"s do not belong in apologies.

The only time IF should be in an apology is:

 a)  if the apology is for a future possible action or outcome:

or b) if you are in a crowded place such as a Subway train:

                                                                   source

or c) there is some uncertainly as to whether you are the person to blame, or if another person was responsible

                                                                   source

Under no circumstance, unless you fancy the idea of someone wanting to harm you, should you add "IF" to an apology when you have just been told that you did something that required an apology.

The phrase "I'm sorry if," when there is no uncertainty, directly translates to: "It is unfortunate I have to hear you bitching right now. I want you to shut up. I am going to say words now in the hope that you will do just that. I am certainly not sorry, and to boot, I think you'll let me get away with this."

"THAT" is the keyword to sincere apologies. I'm sorry THAT I made you angry. I'm sorry THAT I got you pregnant. I'm sorry THAT I also got your sister pregnant.




I'm also sorry THAT I used the example of rubbing crotches on people in the subway.

This is not about Google, the bastards.

My doctor prescribed new Fibromyalgia medication. I just titrated* up to two a day. They make me feel like this. Almost.

*My dictionary doesn't know the word "titrated." Clearly, it doesn't have any sort of medical issues. Checking that it is correct via google** and waiting a really long time for everything to load is really beyond my scope of patience right now. But I did it anyway, for you. But my computer is really slow. It doesn't seem to be made for my new drawing program, or maybe it is because I never restart it, because I don't have the patience to wait for shit to load when I do. I want a new computer.

** My dictionary also doesn't know the word "google" which is pretty fucking stupid since I have the "Ask Google for Suggestions" option check.  You would think that Google would suggest that google was fucking correct. Oh, it wants to be capitalized. Well, fuck you Google, you should know that you are now a verb and not a proper verb (is there such thing as a proper verb?) so you don't get to be capitalized when I am verbing you***.  You are just so vain. You probably think this post is about you. Well, it's not. It is about me being stoned because Tylenol makes me sleepy, so Neurontin is making me fly on a pink sparkly pega-narwhal, so fuck you, Google.

***Oh, wait, my bad. I wasn't verbing you, was I? I blame the drugs for that outburst. I'm sorry. I love you Google.

From Russia with Love

When I was in college, I took Russian to fulfill my foreign language requirement.  In fact, my college transcripts say that I attended "МГУ" (pronounced "Em- Gay- Oo"), which would stand for Moscow State University.

background source

I did not go to Moscow State University.

I wanted to go to МГУ, but alas, I missed a lot of class and my teacher wouldn't give me the recommendation to be an exchange student, and I graduated as a surprise that semester anyway, which was kind of fine with me because I learned that I had to get an assload of vaccinations and stuff to go, and that was a point in my life where my fear of needles overpowered good sense. Little did I know that many years later, I would be allowing doctors to stick needles in my face.

Anyway, my choice of Russian, instead of a standard foreign language, like Spanish or French, was on account of the book "A Clockwork Orange," and also because the challenge of having to learn  a new alphabet appealed to me. I had tried to teach myself Russian my senior year of high school, but I was reading from a book and it had no pronunciation guide, so I didn't learn much.

Despite having taken about 2 solid years of Russian (over many semesters), while I can still read cyrillic, I can only remember how to say a few phrases/words and none of them are very helpful, unless I ever find myself writing bad Russian airport porn.

Here is the Russian and the phonetics for you, just in case you want to look it up yourself!
здравствуйте - zdravstvuyte - Hello
Извините за беспокойства - Izvinite za bespokoystva - Sorry for the trouble (said when one calls a wrong number)
Какой большой чемодан!  - Kakoy bolʹshoy chemodan!- What a big suitcase!
Да, это очень большой!  - Da, eto ochenʹ bolʹshoy!- Yes, it is very big!
Я хочу твой большой чемодан! - Ya khochu t'voy bol'shoy chemodan!- I want your big suitcase!
четыре! chetyre!

Just as an aside, this porn script has been a running joke since I was in college, when my classmates and I, who had a crush on our teacher, would go to lunch and laugh about having to talk about his BIG suitcase repeatedly.

Some things, not so helpful.

I'm a smart ass.

 Beyond that, I tend to think very literally sometimes, which is fairly apparent in my humor stylings.

As a result, I have a hard time not being a psychic jerk to people who stand on the side of the roads panhandling, when they have stupid signs. By psychic jerk, I mean I don't actually antagonize real people, but I fantasize about it, because being a jerk in real life sucks but in your imagination, it is awesome.

The sign that bothers me most is the "ANYTHING HELPS!" sign.

I think you really need to be specific about what ACTUALLY helps. If I ever find myself in a situation where I need to beg for money on the side of the road, I already have my sign planned.

Non-confrontational Guide to Getting Your Waiter's Attention.

My waitress at lunch today was pretty damned inattentive.  Thankfully, she got back to us before I got to the cacophony.

I would like to state, for the record, that the comic originally said "waitron" instead of waitress, but it was argued that normal people don't use the word waitron and that it would mar the joke.  I urge you, however, to start referring to your wait people as waitrons, as it is an awesome genderless term that makes them sound like SUPER SERVICE ROBOTS.

Grammar Guide: That vs. Which

I'm back with more helpfulness, this time in the form of a grammar lesson.  I have been helping a friend edit content lately and it seems many people think that the word THAT is freely interchangeable with the word WHICH, which it surely is not. Of course, I am not a grammar expert, so don't give me shit on my grammar, thanks, but this visual might help someone (when writing NOT a humor blarg) where their grammar and diction need to be spot on.

Note that clauses that contain "which" are almost always set of by commas, whereas clauses that contain "that" are not.

For more technical information on why this is so, see this great explanation by Grammar Girl

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."

More terrifying than a barrel of monkeys!

I don't think "fun" is the appropriate adjective for a barrel of monkeys.  And who the hell stores monkeys in a barrel, anyway?  That seems really cruel.

Why do you insist on calling this a blarg?

Until I get an honorary diploma from the Starfleet Academy, this is a blarg, not a blog.

See, I am highly of the opinion that nothing I write shall ever be a log, as that is a privilege reserved for Sea Captains and Starfleet Commanders and seeing as blog is an abbreviation of weblog, I won't use it. It's just not right.

But why a blarg, you ask? 

I ask you, why not? 

Saying things with a weird accent is fun and BLARG feels exceptionally nice in the mouth when said particularly silly-like. Try it, out loud, now.  Nice, right?

as copied from the pages section so that it can be commented upon. =D

Licence to Abbreviate

While out today on "Mission: Last Minute Cupid," I saw a vanity plate that I couldn't quite decipher.  I decided that the person was either a rodeo clown or did animal husbandry for a dairy farm...

Here in Montana, there seem to be an inordinate amount of vanity plates.  Assigning a story to each of them makes for an enjoyable pastime, especially while waiting at train crossings.
A word of advice though, (also from an example found in town) if you are going to get a vanity plate, have a friend look it over for you, just in case.

Sometimes, fearing the shadows is a good idea.

I've been accused of being pessimistic before, and I really don't think that I am.  I always hope for the best, I believe good things can and will happen, I just think that you have to be realistic in regards to what you might be facing, instead of blindly optimistic. The actual interaction below is an example of my "constructive pessimism."


"Never fear shadows. They simply mean there's a light shining somewhere nearby." ~ Ruth E. Renkel

 "Yes, the light the rapist needs to see you walking by as he lurks in the shadow." ~ JRose

Cake is a lie.

It is shameful to say that it wasn't until I was in college that I knew what the phrase "You can't have your cake and eat it too," meant.  Mostly, because it was never taught in any class I was in, and the phrasing makes no sense.  I mean, the only way you CAN eat cake is if you have some, right?

I would like to petition that the phrase be changed to "You can't eat your cake and have it too," because then, it would actually say what it means and make sense.

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. . .