Monthly Archives: December 2011

Does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot ‘em?

So here we are, kiddos and kidlettes. End of the year. And it’s been one crazy-ass year, right? I’m going to go out on a limb and say 2011 might be one of the most insanely awesome I’ve had, all-told.

In another life, I was a statistician, I’m pretty sure. So I was playing with some numbers tonight. Here’s what I came up with:

This year:

I read 107 books (this is actually a total disappointment, I really have to be better about this next year, possibly an all-time low for me)

I saw a lot of plays, but I didn’t keep track of it as well as I should. Let’s say between 2-4 a month? So approximately 24-48 plays this year. And worked crew on 5. And worked three jobs. What? I’m nuts? Yes. Do I ever sleep? I don’t know, explain what that is, to me, again, please?

I sent almost 7,850 tweets (and if you think this statistic isn’t directly correlated to the one above, well, you’re wrong, Slappy – also, this is how many I’ve sent as of this writing…I’m pretty sure this number will go up by the end of the night. I so have a bottle of wine I plan on drinking. Oh, damn, and it doesn’t include DMs. Well, let’s say I’ve sent 43 kabillion tweets in the past seven months, that sounds about right, right? RIGHT.)

I wrote, combining all three of the blogs I write for, 213 blog posts (that’s a lot of words, if you’re playing along at home! Do you think eventually I will use them all up and it will be a silent world like the “Hush” episode of Buffy? If Spike will be there, I’m all over that. Oh, also, this one has a lot to do with the “I’m not reading enough” one.)

So that’s my year in weird and kind of insane numbers that might get me checked into the looney bin at some point, which might be nice, because don’t you think that padded room looks the most restful? I do.

Also, listen, so on the last day of every year, I do a Tarot reading to kind of end the year and see what’s ahead? And last year’s was kickass. And totally kind of accurate. So should I be concerned that this year’s contained things like “your love is waning, you are feeling insecure, someone is gossiping about you, there will be sneaky behavior, there will be bad news about money, laziness, procrastination” – and, AND, my favorite, “ALL HOPES ARE DASHED.” Um. Thanks, Tarot, I am totally psyched to face the new year right now thank you. I think I might have better luck reading tea leaves or something. Wait, I hate tea. Sorry. That’s not going to happen. Then my house would smell like tea, and I’d have to vomit.

So anyway. 2011 has been really the best thing. There were new friends on top of new friends on top of new friends (EW NOT LIKE THAT. Seriously, Pervy Pete? Even today, with the filthy mind? You can’t take a holiday?), and there was blogging, and there were minions, and there was a lot of laughing, and there was time spent with family and friends.

Anyway, I kind of covered all this, to some extent, in my squishy Thanksgiving post, so I won’t bore you all with my totally graphic-novel-eque origin story all over again, or how much I love my internet people, or my book club, or Twitter, or my phone, or all of that. It’s only been a month. I don’t think your memories are all that short. But here, in case you want to refresh your goldfish-minds, here’s the Thanksgiving post.

Were there sad times? Sure. Sure there were. For all the wins, there were some losses: people and things, and minds and hearts, from time to time. You could do worse than listen to The Bloggess about this. The crocodiles are always there, and I count it a good year when you know they’re there, and can still laugh, you know?

This is the year I found my people, or my people found me. Either way, we’re found. It’s much more of a year of finding than losing, a year of not feeling alone anymore, even when I was. And to top that off: it’s the year of my barbaric yawp. It’s the year of not going quiet and not staying silent. It’s the year of saying “No, you know what? That’s not acceptable, because I deserve better than that” and having it be heard, for the first time since I was 13. It’s the year of douchecanoe and asshat and ALL-CAPS and open letters and book death-matches and Loser’s Tables and magic no-hangover Olive Garden wine and Android phones and geekery and book clubs and honey badgers and Tyrion Lannister and the Rubber Man and THE NEPHEW ZOMG (listen, every year will be the year of The Nephew, let’s be frank) and singing along with a crowd in the street to Company of Thieves and having someone introduce me to Marian Call and someone else introduce me to Robert Kirkman and more happiness, seriously, and without a shred of snark, than a person should probably legally be allowed to have in a twelve-month span.

2011, I loved you more than anyone could love a year. Sometimes I look around and I just grin with the delicious possibility of it all. And I kind of feel like my beloved honey badger: equally taking what I want, and not giving a shit.

2012: I expect more of the same. Screw the Tarot, I think probably the magic left them when Dumbcat decided to plop down on the spread and start licking his ass because he wasn’t getting enough attention.

I’ve got big plans for you, 2012. Don’t you dare let me down. You know how I get when I’m angry. You totally wouldn’t like Hulk when she’s angry.

And minions? You’re the cherry on my sundae; you’re the apple in my eye; you’re the top, you’re turkey dinner, you’re cellophane. Thank you for being here, thank you for making me laugh, thank you for reading and thank you for commenting and thank you for being the most awesome blog readers anyone’s ever had in the history of ever. You’re my happy New Year, you guys. But not that Rudolph’s Shiny New Year garbage, who needs that shit, anyway.

Happy New Year to you all. I won’t sing “Auld Lang Syne” to you, and you can’t make me, because do you WANT to go into 2012 with punctured eardrums? I thought not. I’m glad you’re here. Be careful tonight, and best of all things in 2012. Let’s do this together, what do you say? I’ll bring my caps-lock, it’ll be a blast. Sorry. IT’LL BE A BLAST.

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It gave “laundry day, see you there” a WHOLE NEW MEANING.

Time for another edition of RANDOM CRAP FRIDAY! I know, you’re all totally the most excited. Try to calm down, that’s not good for your blood pressure, seriously. Deep, cleansing breaths. Breathe in blue, breathe out red. There you go. Doesn’t that feel better? Thought so.

Baby, you can drive my car. No, seriously. You can. I’ll let you. Please do. It’ll probably break down, though.

So you know how the car was all “I AM A BUCKING BRONCO OF BROKENNESS” on Monday? Dad fixed it (spark plugs. No, seriously. SPARK PLUGS. Something was wrong with the spark plugs. I know nothing about cars, as I have mentioned – I know they go, sometimes, when you press the gas pedal – but was not aware that something as miniscule as a spark plug could almost kill you. How bizarre) and yesterday met me at work to switch cars with me and take his car home. I was super-excited, let me tell you. Because yes, it was very nice of him to let me use his car? But his car has some things I do not love. Like, the seatbelt sticks and I kept smashing my fingers trying to escape and I felt like I was going to strangle to death and die, and the trunk only opened if you popped it with a popper-thingy in the glove compartment, but the glove compartment didn’t always open so you felt like weeping because the trunk was holding your laundry hostage, and the rear defrost kind of took a year to do anything.

I love my car. It’s kind of no-frills, but it’s reliable and it gets good mileage and it doesn’t often die on the side of the road. My last car had all the bells and whistles (CD player! A thingamabobby that told you the weather outside and the wind direction and was SO TOTALLY FANCY!) but also broke down ALL THE TIME. So this one’s good.

This morning, I was not timely for work. At all. I kind of got sucked into Twitter? This happens, sometimes. I can’t help it. Twitter’s like this black hole of time suck. I mean, I love it so much, but it sucks me in and I look up and I’m all HOT DAMN BUT IT’S SO EFFING LATE. So I ran out to the car and got in and shut the door and whoa, what’s this? Door didn’t shut. Must not have slammed it hard enough. Which is unlike me – I’m a total bam-bam of slamming doors, and, well, everything, really, I told someone this weekend, and meant it, “I don’t think I own too many things that aren’t broken in some fashion” – but I slammed it again. Didn’t shut. Swung right back open like a haunted house door. Well, without the creaking. Or the ghosts.

So what’s a person to do? You can’t drive it to the garage like that. And AAA is for battery jumps and tows, not mysterious doors that won’t close. Also, today, I’m the only person in my office who can answer the phones. All the other trained receptionists took the day off. So it’s just me, and if I didn’t get in? My boss was going to be all red-faced indignant. Also, it was snowing. And the car door wouldn’t close. So all snow was getting in my car. THIS WAS VERY DISCONCERTING.

So I called work and left a very meek “I’m a silly GIRL! I don’t know about CAR DOORS!” message that made my ovaries shrivel up and die but sometimes you have to play the game so you don’t get fired, and called AAA (mindful the whole time of the last time I dealt with them and almost peed my pants and also died on the side of the road waiting for them to arrive) and explained the situation, and they were skeptical they could help, but said they’d send someone over. I got a very panicked call from the head of marketing who was assigned phone duty until I could get to work (“HOW DO I ANSWER A PHONE?” Yeah, try to talk someone through a multi-line phone system over the phone sometime, it’s a hoot, it’s like explaining the inner workings of the internet to an aborigine, it’s not something I’d recommend) and then AAA called. “I’m outside,” he said. Well, this was promising. It was only 18 minutes into the 20 minute ETA! Apparently, local AAA = better than the AAA in the boonies where I broke down last time!

So I went downstairs and the driver was at my car and THE DOOR WAS CLOSED. I seriously almost started weeping in the parking lot.

“You fixed it? Already?” I asked. He looked at me like I was insane. I’m thinking probably I had crazy eyes on display. It’s been a long week, seriously, what with the grippe, and the car breakdown, and the cat, and the holidays, and various and sundry other concerns.

“Yep. Here, let me show you how to fix it yourself, if this happens again.” I kind of wanted to make out with him for that, if he hadn’t been, you know, some stranger. And also if I hadn’t been late for work, and all. So now I can fix my door ALL BY MYSELF if it happens again. If I wasn’t going to renew my AAA membership because of the complete and total FUBAR situation earlier in the week, this guy made sure I would, let me tell you right now. WINNER, guy who fixed my door and then showed me how to fix it myself in the future.

So now I am at work, and I’m only in a LITTLE trouble, because I acted very “silly girl hee hee hee I’m so SORRY! And so UPSET! And so SMALL!” (this only made me die INSIDE, so I suppose that’s fine, no one can see that part) when I got here, and all is well, chickadees.

Elementary, my dear Watson

So on Sunday, the second season of BBC’s Sherlock premieres. You know what that means, right?

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH BABY.

That’s really all I have to say about that, other than, you totally need to watch, if you’re not watching. It’s amazing and brilliant and wonderful, and this is coming from someone who’s not even that big of a Sherlock Holmes or mystery fan. Also, BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH. I’m seriously naming my next pet Benedict Cumberbatch. I hope my next pet is an iguana. That would be a great name for an iguana, right? Even though I don’t really want an iguana, because once when I worked at a pet store we had an iguana and that sucker was mean as shit.

Being a celebrity is a lot less fun and a lot more looking over one’s shoulder than anticipated

So I’ll go into more detail next month, but you know how I can see what search terms bring people to my blog? Um. OK. Either someone REALLY wants to be highlighted in next month’s post about search terms, or I totally have a stalker who wants me to make out with them, bendily. Or maybe wear my skin as a cape.

Dear stalker who is putting search terms into search engines like “Is Amy from Lucy’s Football willing to kiss or bend with any yahoo” and “Is Amy from Lucy’s Football single and willing to kiss strangers” and “Is Amy from Lucy’s Football dating Ding Dong Joe”: Um. OK. Well, if you’re trying to be funny and get in the stats post, you win, I’ll mention you at the end of January. If you’re actually ASKING these questions? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

@lgalaviz says this is the price I have to pay for being a celebrity now. Well! That’s exciting. I’ve always wanted to be a celebrity. I have my Academy Award acceptance speech all practiced out in front of a mirror and EVERYTHING. It is AWESOME.

For the record: yes, I am single. No, I am not willing to kiss or bend with strangers. Or even people I know, for the most part. Personal space issues. Also, I don’t know anyone named Ding Dong Joe, but I’m waiting for him to arrive, because I’m pretty sure that, because he can’t keep his pants on, it’ll be a hot time in the old town tonight once he arrives.

Oh, and here’s a story. It’s mildly perverted. One time? In grad school? I made out with this guy who was kind of a stranger. Well, he was a friend of a friend of a friend. I don’t remember his name. I think I’d been drinking a little. I think it started with C. Chris? Christian? Clark? Whatever. And we were making out, but like, barely making out? I mean, kissing, but not even any groping. It was totally PG-13 making out. Plus, he was kind of a bro, and a little greasy. I don’t really dig bros, and proper hygiene is really a must. I think I was bored. I used to make out with people when I was bored, sometimes, when I didn’t have a book to read. And then it was time for me to leave, because my ride was leaving. So I was all, “See you later, Clark or Chris or whatever.” And he was all, “let me show you something in the laundry room.” And I thought, “this is odd, are we going to do a load of whites or something? It’s like 1am, this is not really a good time for laundry” but I went in the laundry room. And he then DROPPED HIS PANTS and was all, “YOU CAN’T LEAVE UNTIL YOU TAKE CARE OF THIS LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME.”

My response? I laughed until I choked, told him that’s what God gave him a left hand for, and walked out. Seriously, it was PG-13 making out. I don’t even think he went for second BASE, you guys. What the hell?

This is why making out with strangers is a bad idea. They drop their pants in the laundry room when you are all unawares.

Oh, and whenever I saw Clark or Chris or whatever in the future after that he totally gave me a death glare. Sorry, Clark or Chris or whatever. Best of all things to you and your pants-droppy assumption-makin’ self.

That kind of went off topic. Stalker! If you’re trying to be funny, well, it’s not, really. If you’re trying to be a stalker – nice job, well done, you can stop now, thanks. I totally have pepper spray and a really, really shitty attitude.

One Ringy-Dingy, Two Ringy-Dingy

So as mentioned earlier, I’m playing receptionist this week. That’s fine, whatever, I hate it but it’s only a couple times a year I have to take over the reception desk. This week, however, is the WORST.

It’s the end of the year, and I work in an accountant’s office. So everyone calling is all “ZOMGGGGG, I have to get my AFFAIRS in ORDER the YEAR she is ENDING.” And that’s fine, whatever, I think you might have done this a little earlier? But that’s just me, I’m a planner. Here’s the thing, though. NO ONE IS HERE. There are like 7 employees in the office this week. Most of us are lower-level employees who are not able to answer questions that are as detailed as these people are asking.

AND THESE PEOPLE ARE PISSED, YO.

And who are they pissed at? The answer is, the receptionist. Because, obviously, it is MY fault that these people are on vacation. Or, maybe I’m lying. I might, in fact, have them under my desk, and be all “shh, Jane Doe is on the phone for you, Jimmy Joe Johnson, don’t say anything, I’ll say you’re on VACATION! Hee hee hee!”

Listen, here’s a tip, from me to you. The receptionist isn’t lying. The receptionist, odds are good, hates her job, hates being there, hates talking to you, and wants to get you off the phone, but probably is telling you the truth. It’s the week between Christmas and New Year. It’s a dead week. No one is ever around that week. So stop yelling at her. She has the grippe, seriously, what kind of asshole yells at someone with the grippe?

OK, there. RANDOM CRAP FRIDAY. One more day and this year is KICKED, you guys. Can you even imagine? 2012. That is all KINDS of exciting. I like even years. They are invariably nicer than odd ones. Although I have to say, 2011 was a good one, overall. So maybe my data is flawed.

‘til tomorrow, my little wild Irish roses!


My mom says I’m a catch; I’m popular

Happy Thursday! Listen, this grippe is the worst, I’m not going to lie. I’m pretty sure I’m on my way out. Also, I looked up what the symptoms of the grippe were, and were you all aware that the grippe is just the flu? Well, that’s disheartening. Doesn’t the grippe sound so much more romantic and like I’d be swooning on my fainting couch wearing a long white nightie? Yes. I want to be sick like in an old novel. If I have to be sick I want to be sick in a pleasing fashion. COME ON SICKNESS WORK WITH ME HERE. Ooh, also the flu used to be called “catarrh.” I LOVE THAT YO. I want to have the grippe AND catarrh. Well, no, let’s be frank, I don’t want to have either of them, I feel like a freezing cold pile of crap right now (no, seriously, I CAN’T GET WARM, and this is not assisted by the fact that my office does not seem to understand that it’s time to TURN OFF THE DAMN AIR CONDITIONING NOW.) But I am TOUGH. I am SOLDIERING ON. Or whatever, really I’m just sitting here making a weird noise whenever I breathe and coughing a lot and doing a lot of “why meeeeeee” and I’m hoping this will annoy them all enough to send me home. So far, no go, but hope springs eternal, you know?

So first, today, I was going to do a “my favorite blogs of 2011” post. But then I thought, listen, I can’t do that. Because it would end up like the one time I tried to do #FF on Twitter. If you’re not on Twitter, you don’t know about #FF. #FF is Follow Friday. You type in someone’s name you think your followers should follow, and hopefully they listen to you. But it becomes like a popularity contest, and people get their noses bent out of joint if they’re not #FF’d, or if others are #FF’d instead of them, and the one time I tried it I failed SO MISERABLY I have been hiding under my #FF rock ever since.

So if I did a best-of blogs post, you know I’d leave someone off, and that would hurt someone’s feelings, and then I’d feel like an asshole? And who likes that? No one. So here’s the scoop. See my blogroll? Those people rock. And are my favorites. So read them and follow them. And, in a week or two, there will be ADDITIONS to the blogroll, because I’ve been remiss about adding my new loves to the blogroll as I come across them. So keep an eye out, I’ll have new people for you to read very soon.

See? I could totally be a politician I’m so vague and non-committal. Also, apropos of nothing, this time of year makes me very excited. I love debates and shit. SO EXCITING YOU GUYS. In another lifetime I think I was a politician. Who probably got assassinated, hence my obsession with political assassins. This would explain a lot, right?

Anyway, then I was thinking about other things, like, how am I out of lunchmeat? I could have sworn I had lunchmeat, like, last week, when I left for the holidays. Did my cat eat my lunchmeat while I was gone? Did a burglar break in, steal only lunchmeat, and then leave? If so, I hope he’s enjoying it, because that’s the saddest robbery I’ve ever heard of. He could have also stolen some other food, if he really needed it. Like, I have a bag of frozen cauliflower I’ve had for like three years he would be totally welcome to, if he wanted it. It’s probably pretty freezerburned but you know, I’m a giver and I hate to think of someone just eating old turkey from Gladware, you know?

No, no, I really did think about other things. So you know how I’m obsessed with my stats, right? So I thought, let’s look and see what posts, since I started this crazy adventure, people have read the most. Wouldn’t that be fun? And then we can try to figure out, based on these, what the readers want. Because, as mentioned above, I’m totally a giver. Plus I love my readers. Like, so much. I’d totally promise you a rose garden, you guys. I mean, if I knew anything about gardening. Or flowers. Or owned any sort of property where a rose garden could be legally planted. Or wasn’t afraid of bees.

Also, when I researched it, I realized that stupid widget over there that tells you what my most popular posts are is completely wrong. I have to take that off. Dumb thing. I’m going to tell you a shocking thing right now: the Blogger widget for that was better. I KNOW RIGHT. Can you even imagine?

I’m single and there’s way, way too many options

The main idea of this post: dating advice for the modern age, provided by my minions

OK, good! I like this post. I like that you like this post, too. You are SMART READERS. Also, I put a happy video in it. You know, like they tell you to do. To make things more visually pleasing.  And it was kind of funny. But mostly that was because of the minions. They brought me the advice. I just added things in. Like “douchecanoe.” I mean, you can’t go wrong with douchecanoe.

What we learned that readers like from this post: humor, advice, and lists

Also, you’ll break an axle on the road less traveled by. YOU’RE WELCOME.

The main idea of this post: platitudes and proverbs make me totally stabby

I like this one, because whenever it comes up, that photo of the cat with a rainbow and a tie pops up, and I like to see it. Cats wearing clothing is a total win in my book. Want to see Dumbcat dressed up like a curious reindeer? Here.

See? TOTAL EFFING WIN, am I right? I know, I totally am.

Anyway, this post makes me happy because a., it was fun to write, b., you all seemed to enjoy it, and c., there are SO MANY STUPID PLATITUDES AND PROVERBS that I think I can probably make it a recurring segment here and would have enough material for a few more of them. I approve. You really all have excellent taste. Just saying.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, lists, and cats wearing clothing

Oh, Randy! You came! And you gave! Without taking!

The main idea of this post: I found my life partner, and his undercover blog name is Randy, and he hates me and my blog SO EFFING MUCH (but that’s just a front for how much he loves me, I think)

Listen, here’s some shocking news for those of you who read this post: Randy never contacted me again. I KNOW RIGHT. You’d think, after I proved he was totally in love with me and all, we’d be married by now, but apparently he’s playing hard to get. It’s really quite the saddest. I totally got his name tattooed across my face all Mike-Tyson style and everything, I’m worried that might have been a mistake now.

Also, I was kind of almost not going to even publish this because I thought it made me look crazy. Well, crazier than normal. Well, FINE, I guess I already look crazy, SO WHY AM I WORRED.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, me finding the love of my life, me being insane, me ripping some douchecanoe a new one for being an asshat

I’m pretty sure you’re not “loosing” your mind. I mean, you might be. But odds are good you’re not.

The main idea of this post: grammar is your friend, you troglodyte

The sheer fact that this is in the top ten most-viewed posts OF ALL TIME, over seven months of blogging, makes me so happy I can’t even function. GRAMMAR, you guys. GRAMMAR! A thing that is totally the most boring! Well, not to me, but to most people! Is one of my most viewed posts EVER! Also, a teacher (and a wonderful blogger in her own right) is going to use this post to teach her students grammar this semester at school. Are you even serious right now? I can’t even tell you how excited I was the day she asked me if I’d be ok with that. I seriously spun around in my office chair. More than once.

And I thought no one would READ it! And I thought you would all be BORED! I want to French kiss ALL OF YOU RIGHT NOW. No, not you, Pervy Pete. Pants back on. You’re only embarrassing yourself, you know.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, GRAMMAR (squee!), feeling superior to others who aren’t good with grammar, intelligence

WordPress, I would totally backseat makeout with you and steam up the windows.

The main idea of this post: WordPress is awesome; Blogger sucked a bag of dicks

Sometimes I wonder about you guys. I write things that I think no one will care about, and I think, eh, whatever, this jazzes me, so I’m going to post it, and no one will care but me and maybe like a handful of my more constant readers, but this is the sixth-most read of my posts EVER. I’m thinking it’s that I have “makeout” in th. title. So people click on it thinking it’s pervy. Right? Probably. Whatever, it gets the stats up. Anything for you, stats. BOOBS BOOBS BOOBS.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, comparisons of blogging platforms

In Girl World, Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.

The main idea of this post: slutty Halloween costumes are hysterical. And not everything should be made slutty.

This happened before most of you came on board. Honestly, this post is one of my own favorites. I consider something a success iffor still makes ME laugh months later. Like, you are all aware I crack myself up daily, right? I totally do. When I’m driving around, for example? I have fake conversations with myself, and they are HYSTERICAL. I crack up all the TIME. I had a fake conversation wita myself in my head at the library a few weeks ago about a breastfeeding manual that made me cry silent tears of laughter. Yeah. I’m totally the funniest. Which is awesome? Because ifit’s can’t make yourself laugh, who’s going to make you laugh? No one.

Anyway, I love this post because it’s dirty, and funny. And because I’m inordinately proud of the line “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Who cares, let’s do it in the coat closet.”

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, slutty Halloween costumes, dirty jokes

Also, we usually don’t live like we’re dying or serve beer to our horses. Sorry, Germany.

The main idea of this post: Country songs are misleading foreign nations as to what goes in on America.

I’m pretty sure I was a little toasted when I wrote this post. Thathe usually the case when a post was written on a Saturday night. I the home from work and I open the Olive Garden magic no-hangover wine and I think “THIS WOULD BE A FUNNY IDEA.” Sometimes it works, sometimes I tweet things that I think are funny but make peopl. think I’m suicidal. It’s a fine line, really.

Anyway, the reasons I’m very qualified to have written this: I’ve driven through Texas (TWICE!), I know some Texans (on the Interwebs! I don’t think I kthey’re in real life. So maybe they’re not real. My dad says no one on the interwebs is real. Also that they’re all liars. Listen, I was crazy head-over-heels in love with a Louisianian once. Does that count? That’s sort of not far from Texas. He was a ginger. And so tall. And one of the funniest men I’ve ever known. SIGH. Please let me wallow in a love that never came to fruition for a moment? Thanks. Moving on) and I’ve listened to enough country music in my lifetime that I could probably pthe an essay exam on it. I don’t know how this happened. At one point, my radio station got tuned to the country channel and I’m extremely lazy and I never changed it off because it told me the weather and I like to know the weather.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, lists, making fun of song lyrics and hicks, possibly Texans and/or Germans

Rockin’ Robin went Tweet, Tweet, Tweet? Birds Have Internet Connectivity? Distressing.

The main idea of this post: Tips on how to use Twitter correctly. Also, I have a hammer that I will throw at you if you don’t follow the rules.

I like to give tips, because I’m totally a cranky old woman and things annoy the shit out of me on a daily basis and I don’t understand why you don’t just listen to me and follow the damn rules already. This is probably my favorite tips post. Also? They’re all still totally true. I still believe in all of them. And I still hold my throwing hammer in reserve, in case you asshat it up.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, lists, rules, hammers, crankiness

Every Time You Speak to Me You Tell Me What to Do

The main idea of this post: I don’t like women who bully other women into thinking they’re not good enough, strong enough, smart enough, or womanly enough. So I ranted.

This post blew up my blog, back in August. It got linked to all over the place. One of the women who wrote one of the articles I called out in the post actually commented on it. I was, and remain, totally proud of this post. I reformatted it, just for YOU, in case you want to read it again (or for the first time, maybe.) I love that it’s still the second-most read post I’ve ever written.

I haven’t been ranty lately. Nothing’s really made me all that ranty, I guess. Do you want me to be ranty again? I could, I suppose. Find me something to get pissed about. Although, can we not do it this week? The grippe and catarrh are totally tiring me out.

What we learned the readers like from this post: when I get pissed off about something, apparently

“Why am I such a misfit? I am not just a nitwit.” Yes you ARE, Hermie. SHUT UP.

The main idea of this post: That Rankin-Bass Rudolph special is annoying, yo

How is this my most popular post of all time? That makes me laugh. I’m totally glad it amused you all so much. The Bumble thanks you for your support. So do the misfit toys. And Rudolph’s crazy eyes.

What we learned the readers like from this post: humor, mocking of our childhood traditions, the Bumble

So what have we learned from the stats today?

Apparently, minions, you like humor and lists the most. Which is good? Because that’s what I do most. And best. YAY. I’m so glad we cleared that up. Whew.

I’d make you a humorous list, but I’m totally exhausted and now my coworker gave me a huge project because she thinks I “look bored.” Really? No. It’s not boredom. IT’S THE GRIPPE. Get it right, sunshine.

Humorous list, because I love you:

Things That I Have Done Wrong at Work Since Contracting The Grippe, Also Known as Catarrh:

    • Answered the phone with “good afternoon” at 9:15am

 

    • Left the mailbox keys hanging in the mailbox key slot so ne’er-do-wells could totally steal our mail

 

    • Dropped my can of lemonade, then accidentally kicked it across the room when trying to retrieve it

 

    • Forgot to ask “may I ask who’s calling” so made up a name when transferring a call to a co-worker because I was too tired to click back to the caller and ask their name, so many BUTTONS, my WORD

 

    • Tried to write with the pen cap still on the pen

 

    • Asked someone to carry the mail bin for me, because SO HEAVY (it wasn’t heavy)

 

    • Said “what?” about 14 times in a three-minute conversation until the person I was conversing with wandered off (might continue this one in the future, I think that’s a keeper)

 

    • Forgot where I put my coffee, still don’t remember, it’s been 24 hours, WHERE COULD IT BE

 

All for you, Damien. ALL FOR YOU.


Reading When I Don’t Have To: My Top Ten Books of 2011

It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it.” — Oscar Wilde

I love this time of year. Do you know why? No, not because of Christmas. No, not because of New Year’s. I mean, do any single people love New Year’s? New Year’s is depressing if you’re single, let’s be honest. Well, I don’t suppose it’s depressing if you’re single and willing to kiss strangers. I’m not kissing some stranger. I don’t know where that stranger’s mouth has been. Ew. Also, I’m working on New Year’s. Someone has to deal with the weepy drunks calling at all hours on New Year’s Eve, and that person is yours truly. Well, yours truly and her co-workers, I suppose.

NO. The reason I love this time of year is LISTS. I love reading everyone’s best-of year-end lists like some people love things like, oh, I don’t know, social interaction. Or golf. Or internet porn, I don’t know, think of something people do that jazzes them and then substitute me loving lists and that completes the simile. I love year-end lists of all shapes and styles. They are my favorites. And this year, I get to MAKE some! Well, I’ve always made them. I just didn’t have anyone to read them. Now I have MINIONS! Who may or may not care what things I am making lists about! This is SO EXCITING I CAN’T EVEN!

So today, let’s talk books. I haven’t counted up all the books I read this year yet. It’s a smaller number than usual, though. I blame Twitter. And blogging. And my phone. But I love all of those things, so I can’t really blame them, now can I? If I was a New Year’s resolution kind of person, I’d say, “I’ll do better next year, momma, I promise, please don’t hit me with the hose again!” but I’m not, and my mom never hit anyone with a hose, anyway, I made that up, why would she hit anyone with a hose? That’s absurd. I’ll probably do the same next year as I did this year, which is, try to win Twitter and blogging and read when I can, which is seldom. But be happy. There’s a resolution for you. Be happy. Shouldn’t that be everyone’s resolution? Yes. Yes, it should.

Anyway! So I went through my totally anal list of the books I’ve read up until this point, and I hemmed and hawed and compiled and crossed things off and finally came up with my top ten. This might change in like three days when I make my own personal top ten that I post on my wall for the year. Yes, I do that. Yes, I’m weird. No, this shouldn’t surprise you. If it did, you haven’t been paying attention.

So here are my top ten books for the year, in ascending order. Much like my list of songs, these were not all published in 2011. I think that’s acceptable. I mean, who has time to only read books that were published this year? You’d miss out on a lot of great books that way, I think.

I hope you find something you love! If you do, let me know. You know  how above I said I love lists? You know what I love even more than lists? Discussing books. What? Someone’s yelling something in the back. Is it nerd? Yep. Yep, I totally am. Yelling something that I’m not embarrassed about only makes you look like an asshole, Loud Larry.

Also, I’ll try really hard not to be spoilery. I hate that. So if I spoil anything, I apologize. I want you to want to read them; I don’t want you to leave here feeling like you already have.

A Game of Thrones – George R. R. Martin
Published in 1996

I was slightly interested in this book, but I thought, “I’m not a fantasy fan, so I won’t like it.” Then the Geek Girls Book Club chose it as one of their selections, and some woman in the New York Times told me women wouldn’t be interested in it (and you KNOW I don’t like being gender-stereotyped or told what to do), so with those two things combined, I thought, “hmm, let’s give it a go.”

ZOMG IN LOVE.

So apparently, I DO like fantasy literature. Who knew? This is very exciting.

In case you’ve been hiding under a rock for the past year, the Song of Ice and Fire series (of which this book is the first installment) is about a fictional kingdom, Westeros, and the inhabitants therein. It’s set in what is roughly akin to medieval times, but there is magic, and there is evil, and there are power plays, and there is royalty, and there is romance, and there is betrayal, and there are dragons. And there is Tyrion Lannister, who makes the whole series worthwhile for me. There’s also the series on HBO, which I gobbled up over two days once I’d finished the book and now cannot wait for the second season. The only worry I have is that Mr. Martin will pass away before he finishes the series, and that would be heartbreaking. Have you ever attempted to read a series when someone else steps in to fill the shoes of the original author? Does the term “hot mess” mean anything to you?

A Storm of Swords – George R. R. Martin
Published in 2000

I promise there are other titles on this list but Martin titles. Just stick with me here.

So this is the third book in the series. The second book is very good, too, just not top-ten good. This book is the one where things HAPPENED. I mean, shit went DOWN. I had to put the book down a few times because it floored me. Also, I fell hard-core in love with a character I had HATED in the first two books. To the point where I had to email people, all, “Am I broken? Am I supposed to be falling for this person? Because I hated this person before? And now, all the love? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?”

I love when a book does something like this. When words on a page move you like this, it’s a type of magic, honestly. And I don’t think there’s enough magic in the world. So I take it where I can get it.

Those Who Save Us – Jenna Blum
Published in 2005

Trudy’s mother Anna survived Germany during World War II, but refuses to speak about what happened there. Trudy, a professor of German history, is determined to find out the truth of her mother’s – and ultimately, her own – history. But there’s a reason her mother’s been hiding the truth, and what a person is capable of in order to protect the people they love are more than anyone can imagine.

This is a painful book. No question about it. I mean, are you expecting a pretty book, considering the subject matter? But it’s got poetry, too, between the pain and heartbreak. Anna is one hell of a strong woman.

The title is based on a quote, “She can never tell him what she started to say: that we come to love those who save us. For although Anna does believe this is true, the word that stuck in her throat was not save but shame.” I love that. So, so much.

Remember how I like my music dark & twisty? I like my books that way, as well.

11/22/63 – Stephen King
Published in 2011

I already reviewed this over at Insatiable Booksluts (I’m the one who liked it the most, obviously!) but listen, I can’t stop thinking about this book. I think of new things I would change, were I able to go back in time, on an almost daily basis, even though I know that would screw up the fabric of time. Who wouldn’t want to fix things, even though the consequences might be severe?

Maybe it wasn’t his best book. But it’s stayed with me. So it was a successful book, and one of my best reads of the year.

Bossypants – Tina Fey
Published in 2011

“A coworker at SNL dropped an angry C-bomb on me and I had the weirdest reaction. To my surprise, I blurted, ‘No. You don’t get to call me that. My parents love me; I’m not some Adult Child of an Alcoholic that’s going to take that shit.'”

Listen, I laughed out loud so many times reading this book that I’m pretty sure my neighbors, my coworkers, the people walking by my car, and everyone who caught me reading in those few days thought I was a complete and total loon. Which I am? But that’s kind of beside the point.

You know how Tina Fey is a hysterical actress and screenwriter? She’s also a brilliant writer-writer. No joke. Her life is HYSTERICAL. She seriously can turn the slightest thing into the funniest situation you’ve ever come across. She is my idol. I want to be Tina Fey when I grow up, and I want to be best friends with Tina Fey, and I want to go to there. Daily. Also, she’s a hard-core feminist without being scary about it. She just is. I adore her. Seriously. I kind of worship at the church of Tina Fey.

Also, she was a total theater nerd growing up. Theater nerds represent!

Ready Player One – Ernest Cline
Published in 2011

Also reviewed this one, in brief, over at Insatiable Booksluts. If you are a nerd, know a nerd, grew up in or around the 80s, or like awesome things? You will love this book. It has everything. 80s nostalgia, friendship, romance, intelligent writing, humor, pacing that speeds you along without making you feel rushed, actual stakes that the characters have to work toward. I loved it. Just devoured it. I was so sad when it was done.

Also, Wil Wheaton reads the audiobook, and who doesn’t love Wil Wheaton? And he’s mentioned in the book itself, but I won’t give that part away, because it’s too goddamn good. When you come to that part, you’ll totally cheer. Because it should happen, honestly. It really, really should.

The Borrower – Rebecca Makkai
Published in 2011

Lucy is a small-town librarian whose favorite patron, ten-year-old Ian Drake, both kidnaps her and forces her to kidnap him for a cross-country trip to escape his parents, who are forcing him to attend “pray away the gay” classes and not allowing him to read any of the books he wants to read. On the way, Lucy runs into her inconsiderate boyfriend, possible mob men, a house full of ferrets, and falls more in love with Ian. What’s the right thing to do in this situation? Do you save the boy? Or do you save yourself?

I adored this book. It was life-affirming and heartbreaking and frustrating and wonderful. I wanted to scoop Ian up and hide him under my bed and give him every book he ever wanted for the rest of his life. It has everything I love – books, libraries, crazy people, love, loss. Just an amazing read.

Vaclav & Lena – Haley Tanner
Published in 2011

Vaclav and Lena are Russian immigrant children who meet in an ESL class in Brooklyn. Vaclav wants to be a magician; Lena wants nothing more than to be his lovely assistant. All seems to be on track and destiny seems to be spinning along beautifully. Until Lena disappears, leaving Vaclav to say goodnight to her, every night, without fail, hoping to one day find, as if with magic, his lovely assistant again.

Oh, magic, how I love you. Oh, romance, how I love you, as well. This was a perfect novel; there was magic, and there was romance, and just when it seemed to be getting too treacly, the darkness seeped in and you saw the man behind the curtain, dressed all in black, beckoning the little girls to come to him. Don’t expect to leave this book without some tears. It kind of breaks you. But it’s got hope in it, too. And a lot of magic. Magic goes a long way.

The Night Circus – Erin Morgenstern
Published in 2011

My top three books are all about magic, romance, and darkness. I think it’s pretty obvious what I love most in the world.

A young boy and a young girl are pitted against one another in a life-long battle to the death. A circus blooms like magic overnight, calling people to it with a siren-song of caramel and seduction and mystery. A farmboy falls in love with a girl who can see the future in the stars. A contortionist keeps her secrets hidden. A clockmaker starts a movement. A fire goes out. A new one starts. Lives end; lives begin.

This book wouldn’t let me go. I just finished it a few days ago. It’s one of the only things I did over the Christmas holiday. When I wasn’t with family, I was curled up reading. I stayed up much too late with the people in the circus, going from tent to tent, finding what was hidden and what was lost. It’s beautifully written; it’s like a book-length poem in its beauty, really. Oh, and the love story. You will just adore the love story. It’s swoon-worthy.

Swamplandia! – Karen Russell
Published in 2011

Apparently, this was one of the New York Times Best Books of the Year? I have impeccable taste, truly.

Three children grow up in a run-down tourist attraction named Swamplandia! with their parents in Florida. Their mother swims with crocodiles. Their father is the barker and the keeper of the park. One of the children loves the park and everything contained therein. One dreams of escape. One dreams of love and sees ghosts in the trees.

The magic in this book is just the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. And then it wrecks you. It utterly wrecks you. I won’t tell you how, because that’s a total dick move? But it does. I like books that do this, because real life does this, and I like things that are real. I don’t like the fairy tale. Or, I take that back, I DO like the fairy tale, only the REAL fairy tale, the GRIMM’S fairy tale, with the wolf actually ready, willing, and able to eat the children, or the red-hot shoes that actually burn off your feet. I like the reality in my books, because otherwise, I want to cry “foul!” and I want to cry “too easy!”

There is magic, and there is romance, and there is a giant tongue, and there is a man who is also a bird, and there are crocodiles, and there is family who loves one another more than anything imaginable. You need to read this book. I actually gave it as a gift to all three of my people I give books to this year, and I never do that. I wanted everyone to read it. I wanted to share it far and wide. It deserved it, and they deserved it.

So there you go, kiddos and kiddlettes! I hope you find something you love! And if you’ve read any of these, what did you think? Tell me tell me tell me, I want to know! Because you know what G.I. Joe used to tell me after school when my brother was all, “WE ARE WATCHING THIS NOT THE FACTS OF LIFE AMY” and that is, “Knowing is half the battle.” And the other half is, I think, killing one another with assault rifles, but we’ll leave that for another day.

Happy Wednesday! Oh, I’m totally still dying of the grippe, just so you know! Or maybe a wasting disease. It’s debatable, really.


An Open Letter to People Who Find my Blog Accidentally (Volume 6)

Dear People Who Find My Blog Accidentally:

Happy December! This month, we saw a lot of Christmas-related searches, which is nice, because pretty much I blathered on about Christmas all month. But don’t fret; you also searched for weird garbage, which WordPress collected for me and I just spent the last hour collating it all. What’s that? I have too much free time? I heard that, Snidely McSmartmouth, and I don’t appreciate your tone ONE LITTLE BIT. Go eat some leftover Christmas fudge or something, no one needs your particular brand of snark around here.

There are a lot of new people here now. So to catch you up: I’m obsessed with my stats; I like to check what search terms drive people to my blog; then I feel REALLY BAD this isn’t what they were looking for. So I write them a letter of apology (this is the sixth one. As you can tell from the title. Search for the others; they’re stellar.) You know. As you do. What do you mean that’s not what you do? You’re all really rude today, I can’t even tell you. Is it the post-Christmas blues? I’m sorry. Those suck. Maybe get one of those Vitamin D sunlamp thingies or something, those help, right? I don’t know, do I look like I have a Ph.D. or an M.D. or whatever the hell? Because I don’t. I mean, I could pretend I do, but that would be misleading, and I might get sent to jail for impersonating a doctor or something.

There was about a page and a half of craziness, all-told, this month. I think people were busy wrapping or weeping or whatever this month. That’s fine. I was, too. Oh, by the way? The cookies went over like gangbusters. Just saying. So in case you were all “ZOMG Amy totally went insane with the cookies” it was totally worth it. Everyone seemed pleased with the outcome. Especially my dad. And that’s all that matters, right? Right.

So ANYWAY, instead of addressing you all individually, which would take like a year or something, I’m going to break you down into categories and address you in groups. Think of it as being inducted into a very elite club, in which you are being made fun of. But with LOVE, my little Fruit Roll-Ups.

Category the First: Ways People Try to Make Work or School More Fun, and Fail Miserably

Expense report jokes
Funny cosine

I don’t know that there are so much “jokes” about expense reports. I mean, I guess you could write something like “Line Item: 14 Whoopee Cushions $4,000″ on your expense report, but who would that crack up? No one at all, really. It would annoy your Accounts Receivable person or whoever in your office is in charge of the reports and also everyone would think you were a tool. And as much as I love math, there’s very little that’s humorous about a cosine. Awesome, yes. Funny? Nah, no, not really.

Category the Second: Weird Animal Related Search Terms

Kookaburra tattoo
“how gay your life must be”
cattle lice control comparison charts

I TOTALLY WANT A KOOKABURRA TATTOO YO.

I did a image search so I could show you an actual photo of one but they were all totally the creepiest and worst so pretend I’m showing you one now that’s awesome and I WANT IT.

Also, you’d think the second term up there is kind of homophobic and I was going to make fun of it as such until I realized it was a line from the kookaburra song and then I loved it.

And what’s up with the cattle lice search? That’s a thing? There are cattle lice? And why are you here asking about them, I didn’t even know they existed until today! Aw, poor farmer. I wish I could help you. I like charts. And cattle. And farmers. And control. I don’t like lice, though.

Category the Third: Someone is stalking @lgalaviz wrong

@lgalaviz twitter search

If you want to search someone on Twitter? Maybe SEARCH TWITTER. Not Google, or whatever search engine is your crack of choice. So apparently, someone is stalking @lgalaviz, and I don’t know that I can totally blame them, she’s very stalk-worthy. And they did it through a search engine. Which brought them here, because I talk about her a lot because she is the awesome. @lgalaviz! You have a stalker! You’ve hit the big time, baby! Only, they’re doing it wrong, so they’re a very stupid stalker! Don’t worry, I don’t think they’ll be standing outside your house anytime soon!

Category the Fourth: Search Terms That Make Me Nervous To Be Alive

Stompies slippers knife
Lollipop chainsaw porn Juliet
Horror stories: she inflate him with bicycle pump

Oh, no. No, no. What the eff, and no.

What are the first and second even referring to? I’m so scared for the state of the world right now. Although I do like the word stompies.

The third one…um. Well. I found an urban legend where teenagers in Thailand were pumping air into their rectums with bicycle pumps for a “temporary thrill” but then dying. But it wasn’t true. The way this is worded, though. It’s worrisome, right? It’s specific. And it’s like someone’s asking for TIPS. I’m weirded out. Really weirded out.

Category the Fifth: This Search Term is Way too Vague, Try Again, Slappy

blonde teenager Facebook

I can just see some girl who saw some blonde boy from another school, say at a high school dance or something, who went home and was all, “I WILL FACEBOOK STALK HIM” only she only knew that he was blonde, and a teenager. Aw, honey. Fail. Although this might be a perv search term, come to think of it. And now, ew. Silkwood brain shower.

Category the Sixth: Pervy Search Terms (danger Will Robinson, because, ew)

Porno pros animals
Sexxy girl wall
Paper mache tits
Feeling pee when saw porn
Little Red Riding Hood is hot
Penuses
Deer porn
Cats sex love
George Bush used condom wrapper
“my awesome busty wife was asked to be one of Santa’s helpers at her office party her costume is very small”

Is “porno pros animals” a thing? I mean, I’m not going to Google it, but if it is, ew! And, ha!

A whole WALL of sexy – sorry, “sexxy” – girls? That’s a lot.

Paper mache tits. Um.

I don’t think you “feel pee” when you see porn. If you do, probably you have a UTI.

Stop doing search terms for sexy fairy tale characters; it’s freaking me out.

I like “penuses.” It’s spelled wrong, but with VERVE.

Deer porn? And cat porn? WHY IS THERE PORN FOR EVERYTHING ON THE INTERWEBS.

What’s the George Bush thing all about? Anyone? No, don’t tell me. That was rhetorical, I don’t want to know.

Also, +1, guy who wrote a really cheery pervy story about his busty Santa’s helper wife in my search terms. You really seem to have a total lust for life. And boobies. And Santa’s helper costumes.

Category the Seventh: Search Terms I Can Answer (and Hi! And I Love You!)

Would you trust your son to go to a football away game at 15? It would depend on how mature he was, how well-chaperoned the game was, and how much I trusted him. Probably I would. At fifteen, I was going to all kinds of things outside of my parents’ view, and I didn’t have any prom babies. Then again, I was a total social weirdo. So take that with a grain of salt. You’re welcome!

A chant to make someone love you Oh, babe, no, no. There’s no chant. Please don’t. That’s crazy-talk. If you need to chant, that person’s not worth your time. Find someone else. You’re welcome. And I’m sorry. Romance is totally hard.

Who were Alan Cumming’s boyfriends before he got married? That’s none of your business, unless you’re Alan Cumming, his husband, or one of the boyfriends. You’re welcome, and mind your own business, Access Hollywood.

Why does Zak Bagans date such ugly women? That’s totally judgey, no? Also, he’s a douche. I watched part of Ghost Adventures when I was home this weekend and for no reason anyone could ascertain, he was wearing a gas mask in this haunted jail, but none of the other people on his team were? It was strange. Also, Aaron, one of the other people on his team who I used to totally have a lady-boner for, lost all kinds of weight and now his clothes hang on him oddly and I no longer lust for him. So I said, “Aaron needs to eat a sandwich or I won’t bone him” and my dad said “Or a whole bunch of sandwiches, I think he’s bulemic or something.” You’re welcome, even though I didn’t answer your question. In my defense, it was a stupid question.

Love mermaid human  Splash. 1984. Tom Hanks, Darryl Hannah. Awesome movie. You’re welcome.

Can cats fart when they are pregnant? Who the hell cares? Probably? That’s gross. You’re gross. What a dumb question. You’re welcome, weirdo.

Psychopath adult stepson is vandalizing our home  Whoa. Probably kick him out and get a restraining order? That’s worrisome. I’m sorry. The sheer fact that you’re searching for answers on the internet and then coming here for them is a bit troubling, too. You’re welcome? I think? Eep.

Nell Carter mother of Mickey Rooney Nell Carter: date of birth, 1948. Mickey Rooney: date of birth, 1920. Nell Carter: African-American. Mickey Rooney: white. I think probably those two facts alone answer your question? You’re welcome. But also? Thank YOU. Best laugh I’ve had all morning.

Category the Eighth: I Don’t…Um.

Metal chimneys and vent stacks

This was searched for and clicked-through THREE TIMES. Have I even MENTIONED these things? I don’t even know what to say. I know nothing about chimneys, other than they vent smoke away from your house? And someone died and rotted in one in Gremlins? This is perplexing.

Category the Ninth: Things That Have Been Mentioned Here to Some Extent, So Good Job (Also, I Like the Way You’ve Worded Your Searches)

Box of hohos
Captain Hammer is a douche
Dunkin’ Donuts Smokehouse Sausage tastes like a hotdog
Yankee swaps get out of hand
“white elephant” gift exchanges worst ever suck awful materialistic
This was my first time seeing a live theater performance
What is the doll’s problem/What is wrong with the doll on the island of misfit toys
“hermie don’t wanna make toys!”

In some way, shape, or form, all of these have been mentioned here at some point in the past. Which means that yes, you all don’t really belong in this post, because you didn’t find my blog accidentally. But I like the way these searches are worded. Especially the “worst ever suck awful materialistic” one. That person HATES WHITE ELEPHANT GIFT EXCHANGES you guys. Like, so, so much. I wish they worked at my office. We’d have a gay old time at that party.

Also, I hope that the theater person had a good time at their first show. And that they continue to attend shows. Because attendance is down and I’d like that to change, please.

Also, a whole box of HoHo’s = awesome. And I like to imagine that Dr. Horrible was the one that did that Captain Hammer search, because I like to imagine that fictional characters really exist, and that we could be friends.

And I told you all that smoked sausage sandwich at Dunkin’ Donuts looked like a hot dog. NOW WE HAVE PROOF.

Category the Tenth: I Assure You, I Didn’t Mean This in a Pervy Fashion

“I can do it all, I’m totally bendy”

Eleven people searched for this term – IN QUOTES EACH TIME – this month. Some of them searched for it with “Lucy’s Football” attached. Now, last month, it was “I sure do like kissing,” and this month it’s this.

I am totally flattered you think of me in terms of kissing and bending, but also, stop thinking of me in terms of kissing and bending, ok? I’m not kissing or bending with any of you. Sorry. I don’t just kiss or bend with any yahoo. I’m very selective about my kissing and bending.

I didn’t mean I was bendy in a contortionist way. I’m not, actually. I’m just regular-bendy. As people are. It was a throwaway line. But apparently it’s become my catchphrase this month.

I can, though. Do it all. And I am. Totally bendy. Just not in a weird, pervy way. SO PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON DING DONG JOE.

Category the Eleventh: Search Terms That Are Just Plain Awesome

I am a turkey and I know it
Zing? Yes.
Ray if someone asks if you are a god you say yes ringtone
Rabid coyote to draw
Sylar baby clothes
Lucy’s football trick billy bye
“matthew gray gubler” and “hay”
How are you? Baseball hats! I hope fine! Baseball caps!
Furries you really sure you’re not kidding

I love these all SO HARD. I seriously want to give you all AWARDS. I don’t even know where to begin with this awesomeness. I want that ringtone, by the way. I also want someone to draw me a rabid coyote, and I want Sylar baby clothes. What’s up with the baseball caps guy? SO! EXCITED! AND! EXCLAMATION! POINTY! Why’s Dr. Reid hanging out in the hay? Also, the furries thing is my favorite. Can you just imagine someone finding out about furries for the first time, then going home and typing this into Google, with a totally disgusted look on their face? “Furries? You really sure? You’re not kidding?” Hee. I LOVE YOU SEARCHERS. You have made my MORNING. Air kisses!

Until next month, my poor lost lambikins. May Google be kind in your searches.

Love, Me.

(As always, thank you to Mer for the inspiration for these posts!)


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