Super Psycho Magnet

Guys are the New Girls.

This entire article kind of gave me angina. I’m super cereal about this one.

When did it become the woman’s job to be the emotional one?

When did, “Peter the doughy L.A. dude in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Tom the NYC dreamboat in Maid of Honor … become girls.”

At what point did it become not O.K. for men to show their emotional/human side.

Without meaning any offense, and please take my word for that, my parents would say it’s because they grew up in a different time.

This is the problem I have with that is the feminist revolution that seems “cute” to the patriarchal society I live in. The sexual revolution has been going in since before I was born and yet it seems like little progress has been made. This revolution still seems to be ignored by ::::grrrrr::: corporate America. And the people who tell me they’re upset by the biased don’t do anything about it. The ones that grew up in a different time are the ones that teach their children that women are the “weaker” sex.

It’s killing me and holding me back whether or not the patriarch’s realize it or not.

I need to know why we have these gender boundary issues.

This world and it’s people are here to adapt and move on with unconditional love. And, it’s just not happening.

People are so afraid of disappointing their parents/family/friends/peers that they won’t be themselves.

I think this will be the fatal flaw of man-kind.

This message brought to you by wine and watching Juno.

I’ve had it with Japanese tourists. Seriously. I’m going to lose my shit if one more bothers me.

I almost hit one with my car on accident yesterday. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. She jumped out in front of my car while I was trying to turn right on a red on my way to work. Thing is, I had the right of way in actuality. Technically she did because she was a pedestrian. Morally? I should have run her the hell over. She had the little red hand telling her not to cross the street. She did it anyway.

Another time, while driving in my car with Lindsay, I almost hit one on a bike. Again, not on purpose. She was in the middle of the right lane of a 4 lane road and I was coming up in the left lane. WITHOUT LOOKING she cut over to the other side of the street causing me to slam my brakes on and smoosh the very yummy muffin I had just bought from Starbucks into my steering wheel. I didn’t hit her, I should have though. I should have just slammed the gas and ran her and her bike over, but I didn’t.

When I was 5 my parents took my sister and I to the Smithsonian. I remember standing in the Air and Space museum looking at the recreation of the moon landing. Suddenly, I was grabbed by 1000 tourists and turned around. I tried to run to my Mom and Dad but they held me there and made me take a picture with them. I would actually pay to see that picture now. I’m sure it’s a pretty funny picture of 1000 tourists and a terrified little white girl who may or may not have peed her pants a little.

This morning was the straw that broke my proverbial camel’s back. I took Betsy out for her morning walk with her vest on. She’s been doing really well lately making the distinction between working while the vest is on and having fun while it’s off. We were walking at the tree line where we usually do when all of the sudden she was TORMENTED by three Japanese White-Eye’s. Betsy lost all composure and tried to chase them. For that I had to punish her. By punish I mean I flipped her on her back to let her know I’m still alpha and she needs to listen to me.

I tried to keep walking and those little birdy bastards followed us. They would swoop down from the trees and land in front of Betsy and hop just out of her reach. She still has her vest on at this point so I had to punish her again for not listening to me. I finally decided that I had had enough and walked away from the tree line. We walked around the park for a little while and Betsy did her business.

As we started walking home I went back to the tree line and low and behold guess who came back to mess with her? Those little green assholes came back and started doing the same thing. That’s when I started to lose my shit.

I made Betsy sit so I could take her leash and vest off. I waited until one was right in front of her and gave her the command to go. Oh the fun that was had. She spent the next 10 minutes chasing those little fuckers around the park and into trees and stalking them. Once I thought they had had enough I called her back to me and made her sit so I could put her leash back on. Not 30 seconds passed and those jerks came back. I didn’t even have the leash on her and they came back. So I had to let her get them again. She didn’t eat any of them she just wanted to chase them.

These birds are not native to Hawaii. They’re tourists. They’re tourists that like to torture my dog.

Holy shit, I can’t wait to leave this island.

Are you kidding me?

Did the entire world get together and agree to try to give me a stroke? Did the universe decide that things have been going too well in my life and now they’re trying to make up for it like monkeys like to fling poo?

Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt, as in two of the assholes from The Hills, were invited to the Annual White House Correspondant’s Dinner this year. Not by one coorporation, but by two.

And lo and behold, Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt were in attendance too. They had been invited by msnbc.com, but backed out when their lengthy demands couldn’t be met under the auspices of a “scheduling conflict.” The conflict apparently disappeared though. Fortune magazine shelled out and brought the couple east to the dinner. They did have an awkward run-in during the Capitol File after party at the Newseum, though.

About 45 minutes before their arrival, arch enemy Lauren Conrad entered the party and was in the VIP area when Montag and Pratt arrived. The scene was awkward at best, and Pratt was overheard saying that he was glad to be there after “being stuck at a three-hour dinner.” (Note to Pratt: It is poor form to describe a dinner presided over by the president and vice president as one at which you were stuck.)

Full article here (under the story about Miley Cyrus, her father the Pimp, and child pornography).

Most of the other attendees listed I can see (save Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz.) They are well known actors or people that have actually had involvement in the media relating to the White House.

Was the guest list for these two companies really that awful?

Was there not a respectable journalist among either of them?

What does it tell you that MSNBC.com or Fortune Magazine can’t find a better journalist to attend? What does that do to your confidence in both of those “respected” news outlets?

What about people at Orato.com or any of the other fanastic non-network represented news outlets? So what if it’s a Canadian based company? I would rather have Canadians then two dip-shits “…born to privilege and squandering their every advantage on vapid and vain pursuits,” (Mayrav Saar,E Online), that probably haven’t seen or read the news, ever.

And you wonder why I drink.

I make this promise to you now. If Kim Kardashian ever gets invited, I am moving to New Zealand.

Dear Canada,
I have nothing against you. I just meant that I would rather have people from foreign lands visiting our White House then those two idiots.

Dear Kim Kardashian,
Yes. I did mean to offend you.

Scientists decode brain farts

It’s been way too long since I’ve picked up my camera.

I’ve been feeling a little emo lately and I think it’s defined very well here.

You can see the zit forming on my nose. I hate you VOG! Give an f-ing cheer for volcanic ash ruining my car and my skin.

(((BTW, screw you Kilauea! I’ve got your number. See what happens when you ruin the finish on my car. I am SO coming after you! Not you Pele. I love you and you are beautiful. I would not mess with you. The Vog has to go though!)))

I’m not even sure what to say about Dick Masterson or his website.

After waking up at the unGodly hour of 3:30 am without being able to fall back asleep I decided to mosey downstairs, make and drink an entire pot of coffee and browse the internet. It was that or work out. Which do you think I picked? Six hours later, while my jitters are still jittering, I’m still trying to process if this guy is for real or not. If he is for real, he ranks up there with Fred Phelps on the Asshole Scale. If he’s putting on an act, he ranks up there with Fred Phelps on the Asshole Scale.

I finally went to work and due to high caffeine intake before 6 am I’ve done all the work I’ve had to do for today in about 45 minutes. There are a few things that I’m waiting for to come back but I can’t do anything with them until tomorrow anyway. Woe is me.

I forgot my breakfast at home today and if I weren’t sustaining myself on coffee and nicotine I might be upset. What does upset me though is that I will have to throw out a perfectly good bagel with cream cheese and fakin’ bacon. It’s times like these I wish I didn’t have to crate my dog. If she weren’t locked up she would find my beloved bagel and eat it with the napkin it’s wrapped in. I’ve been praying that she’ll spontaneously grow thin adamantium arms with opposable thumbs so she can get herself out of her crate and eat the yummy yeasted wheat product before it goes to waste. She would probably eat more of the wall for dessert though so maybe I should be careful what I wish for.

I’ve also come upon this story this morning. Woman Arrested for Dancing at the Jefferson Memorial.

Dude. Seriously? There were not disturbing anyone else with loud music and no one was doing anyone any harm. They were simply dancing with their iPods on.

It just goes to prove that there are some people are afraid of what they don’t understand. In this case it ends in a criminal record for someone who may not deserve it. Now, I’ll admit that what is shown on the videos and what actually happened may be two different things. However, from witness accounts the group wasn’t doing anything wrong.

What the hell is happening to this world?

That’s right. I said Service Dog.

Today I was given permission by my Doctor to make my dog my service animal. He agreed that it would benefit my anxiety condition to have her as a service dog as she keeps me calm in stressful situations. She’ll also assist in getting me out of the house seeing as the only time I leave now is to take her to the park. (Thank God for Papa John’s internet ordering and delivery!)

I already have an ID card that identifies her as a “Service Dog in Training” and a vest with her name on it is on it’s way to me right now.

Watch out peeps! Here come me and Betsy!!!

Quite a few years ago, when my demi-obsession with horror movies started, I was introduced to Dead Alive (original release was called Braindead). At the time, I didn’t know what to say about Peter Jackson OR New Zealand as a whole.

After watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy I figured it was the country of New Zealand that’s totally effed.

My theory was solidified this week when I watched a movie called “Black Sheep.” There is something wrong with the country of New Zealand. I don’t know what it is but it makes me want to move there and raise German Shepards and Sheep!

Flight of the Conchords makes me want to move to New Zealand too!

And now it come full circle!

I still won’t shop there though.

Wal-Mart tells Brain-Damaged Woman: Keep the Money

For weeks now I’ve been facing a big decision. Unfortunately I’m not at the point where I can talk about it openly. Maybe soon though.

Anyway, recent events have lead me to make the decision if I want to stay or go. Things came to a head yesterday and I’ve got to make a decision soon. I’ve talked to my parents, I’ve talked to counselors, and I’ve talked to my friends. Every opinion has been more than valid and different. Every opinion has been greatly appreciated too but none of them have gotten me any closer to making my own decision.

Yesterday afternoon when I left work and this morning when I got in my car this was the exact part of The Doors Light my Fire that was playing.

The time to hesitate is through
No time to wallow in the mire
Try now we can only lose
And our love become a funeral pyre

I think it might be a sign.