Five Things-The Ping Edition: 4/14/14

1) Oh for fuck’s sake..they’re never gonna find that fucking plane.

It’s gone. Vapor. Too bad Malaysia lacked the balls to handle this whole mess correctly from the beginning. No wonder Al Qaida loves it there–y’all are clueless.

All of the possible runways long enough to support a Triple 7. (via NorthShoreJournal.org)

All of the possible runways long enough to support a Triple 7. (via NorthShoreJournal.org)

As much as I’d like to think the crew and passengers are safe, they’re not. It’s heartbreaking, and the families didn’t have to go through this shit storm.

 

2) One thing I’ve discovered is that if you get enough coffee in me, I can sing just like Carly Simon. True story.

 

3) Update to number 2: Add pot with the coffee, and I can sing just like Carol Channing.

 

4) One of the fun things about being a writer is if anyone fucks with you, you can write about it. Put it down on paper, in blog, book, or even on the bathroom wall. One doesn’t have to write it out verbatim which is nice. Plus, writing it out word-for-word could land you in court. I had this happen to me recently–being verbally berated for being me. I honestly don’t know where it came from, and I’ll admit it stung a bit.

Kinda like a kick to the tits when they’re sore–you know, like right before menses starts.

I told a few friends that being called fat and ugly wouldn’t have hurt so much.

However, almost as quickly as it entered my soul, it left and being the creative type that I am, I immediately wrote it all down for future use. It’s been put in the holster and will surface at the primo moment.

Until then, anything you want to say to me, g’head and mail it to my ass.

 

5) It’s PROBABLY not a good idea to fuck with an airline on Twitter about Al Qaida.

(via NY Daily News)

(via NY Daily News)

It gets better. Really.

(via Uproxx)

(via Uproxx)

 

When they made you dumb, they made you really dumb.

(via Uproxx)

(via Uproxx)

Five Things that need to go buh-bye in ’14–Part 1

Well, the Earth has almost completed another lap around the Sun, which means it’s time for those insipid lists filled with trends/people/places/things the writers don’t wish to see in the next year.

I’m one of those people, but I’m much more fun and interesting. So, you’ll read it and fucking enjoy it, mmkay?

1) OPEN LETTERS. Oh for fuck’s sake, these have got to stop. To me, they’re nothing more than public masturbation in letterform jizzed out onto social media.

The Insufferable: Miley Cyrus and Sufjan Stevens. (photo via E! Online)

The Insufferables: Miley Cyrus and Sufjan Stevens. (photo via E! Online)

Hate to break it to all you openletter writers–and would-be ones too–no one gives a red rat’s ass about your letter’s message. Those star-fuckers who do give a shit about these letters and insist on reposting them, seriously, y’all need to get a life. I highly doubt that the celebs involved care about you, all they want is the free publicity. Also, all these poorly written, thought-out missives do is clog up our Facebook and Twitter feeds.

I hate ’em for the reasons I mentioned, and because they slow down my route to free porn.

2) Phrases…Here are a few that come to mind.

“Faith in humanity restored.” I’ve seen this a lot on social media, and it’s usually tagged to a story about some kid doing something profound like stopping a speeding train after his mom mowed the lawn, or a dog walking to the moon, or a bomb being stopped by a brunette wielding a tree branch … you get the idea. When I see those 4 holier-than-thou words, I feel stabby, and I don’t like feeling stabby. The writer’s insisting that you find whatever words or images he or she has carefully crafted or uploaded from the Internets, better than everything ever. If that shit ain’t happening in my living room, then my faith ain’t leaving my house.

“______, go home, you’re drunk.” This wasn’t funny or clever the first time, and unlike some wines, it doesn’t get better with age. Next.

“______ just won the Internet!” No, you didn’t. You didn’t win dick. Shut the hell up.

“Said no one … ever.” Do I need to elaborate?

“Just sayin’.” Yep, you sound like an illiterate buffoon when you add that little turd to the end of any sentence or phrase.

This is a nice segue to my next point.

3) Those who are easily *offended*. These folks are tiresome. If they don’t like something or if they don’t agree with something or someone, then that person’s offended–as if saying you’re offended gives you more rights than those of us who, gosh, know how to deal in society. There are folks who actually believe the offended ones have more rights…um, I’m gonna have to slap a big fat NO on y’all. Sadly, the offended ones have great PR machines. (Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann, those offended by the so-called ‘war on Christmas’ and Christianity, etc.)

Ricky Gervais feels the same way:

“Just because you’re offended, doesn’t mean you’re right.”

Being offended all of the damn time makes you a whiner, by the way.

But, if you’re going out of your way to offend people, then you’re just an asshole.

Here’s what I do if I find I’m offended by something (which rarely happens), I either change the channel, turn the page, turn off the tee vee, walk away or click off the page. See, I get that there are lots of folks out there with different opinions, and I listen to a lot of those opinions. It’s part of who I am–I welcome them–to a point. I like to hear what people have to say, and try to figure out how they arrived at their opinions. Plus, it’s part of my job.

4) Enough with selfies, twerking, making stupidity something to strive for, duck-face photos…

(via RubberDuckFace.com)

(via RubberDuckFace.com)

(via RubberDuckFace.com)

(via RubberDuckFace.com)

Here’s a double-whammy: A duck-face selfie. Careful, it may leave a mark.

(via DigitalTrends.com)

(via DigitalTrends.com)

5) Ok, I had to take a sedative after posting that last item. When God made ugly, he really made ugly. Damn.

Finally,  a word on paleo diets. You ain’t eating paleo unless you’re living in a cave with a simian-esque dude named Thak sporting a loin cloth.

Also, when I think paleo, I think Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer. How could I not think of him?

Exorcism a la Plinky

So I signed up with Plinky to help me with this NaBloPoMo thingy.

Supposedly or Supposebly (choose whichever version best displays your edumacational achievements) the daily inspirations on Plinky are supposed to help me with this daily writing task.

Not bloody likely.

So far, the ‘inspirations’ I’ve spied involve describing a time when you felt your loneliest, if you could invent a holiday what would it be, and something about kittens. Sure, some of the responses are heartfelt and heartbreaking but I’d rather not air mah dirty laundry that way.

Until today.

Whilst in my pre-caffeine part of the morning, I came across this suggestion:

Have you ever had to end a friendship?

Plinky’s prescience is impressive. Recently, I went through a mutual dumping of sorts. I said something horrible, immediately apologized (actually three times which in hindsight is two times too many), yet this former friend decided to take my bad behavior one step further and tell the targets of my insult what I had said.

Oops.

Over the next few tear-filled, angst-and guilt-ridden days, the realization hit me like a box of human shit that this friend of over 20 years was never a friend because she didn’t have to take my horrible insult to the next level. A phonecall coulda and shoulda been made asking me what was up & had that happened, then the chaos train would’ve stopped. See how that works?

Live and learn, plus it’s time to have my friendship radar adjusted. Fuck it–I’ll just get a new one.

Of course I regret my behavior and miss my former friend from time to time, and what happened has brought me pain, plus a healthy dose of introspection.

I take responsibility for my actions, and am done apologizing.

However, anger surfaces from time to time, which ain’t pretty because what I could say to them would melt the skin off their faces and cause their tits to tumble off their chesticles. It’s very tempting, but why would I want to waste such a wonderful combo platter of wit, wisdom and high-brow insults on folks who have proven themselves to be tone-on-tone half-wits and what’s the term? Frenemies? Yes, I’m using a term so associated with the early aughts, but it works well in this case.

When I was going through this, a good friend told me that this woman–plus the two I offended who I believed to be my friends–don’t deserve the tears I’m shedding.

He’s absolutely correct, and now there is peace in the dome.

Onward and upward.

Gotye & KC — Ermahgerdified.

For my muses: Kate, Leah, and Beezus.

A friend sent me this, and I’m gonna have some fun with it — at Gotye’s expense. And, KC & The Sunshine Band’s.

First, the video.

Here are some of the lyrics — ERMAHGERD-STYLE.

Now and then I think of when we were together

NER ERND THERN I THERNK ERF WHERN WER WER TERGERTHER

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

LERK WHERN U SERD U FERLT SER HERPER U CERLD DER

I told myself that you were right for me

I TERLD MAHSERLF THERT U WER RERGHT FER MAH

But felt so lonely in your company

BERT FERLT SER LERNERLER ERN YER CERMPERNER

But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember

BERT THERT WERS LERV ERND ERTS ERN ERCH I STERL RERMERMBER

And now, for a little KC.

I want to put on my my my my my
Boogie shoes
Just to boogie with you, yeah
I want to put on my my my my my
Boogie shoes just to boogie with you, uh huh

I WERNT TER PERT ERN MAH MAH MAH MAH MAH BERGER SHERS JERST TER BERGER WERTH U, YER WERNT TER PERT ERN MAH MAH MAH MAH MAH BERGER SHERS JERST TER BERGER WERTH U, ER HER

I don’t know how to explain the phenom that is ERMAHGERD. All I know is it’s some wacky meme that is awesome at wasting my time and making me laugh so hard I SNORT.

Why yes, I am easily amused in case you were wondering.

(courtesy derp.com)

You get the idea.

Fuck. I need a job.

What a difference a year makes

On July 6, 2011, I started this blog. I had no idea how it would turn out or if it would even last more than a few posts. There was always the chance that I’d grow bored and dump it like a bad boyfriend. Hell — that could still happen, but I doubt it because this is just too damn much fun. It’s my own creation that hails from the most mysterious, silliest, contemplative parts of my soul.

With the exception of a few posts where I find inspiration in another news story or in normal everyday human behavior, I never truly know what I’m going to write about until I click on “new post” and start typing.

It’s that very moment when I feel the most creative and free. I feel fortunate to have this innate ability (some might argue with my word choice) to create and write, and I’ve learned that the more I do it, the (hopefully) better I get. To me, writing is a release, a comfort and a source of nourishment. It’s what I long to do for a living.

When I started this blog, I was unemployed and uncertain of my future. Sadly, that’s today’s theme too. It’s been 17 months since I was laid off from my job at Modern Healthcare magazine, and very little has changed. I’ve had a few, brief freelance assignments, sent out countless resumes and went on a bunch of interviews. Southern California was my home for roughly 6 months — and I long to make it my permanent home, dog willing. I do believe that will happen but it’s just a matter of when. While I love Chicago, Southern California just suits me better. There’s a comfort level I’ve never been able to achieve in Chicago — a concept that is lost on so many folks, but not on those with whom I am closely yoked.

A year moves quite fast these days. Time moves faster when you’re not working, by the way. It wasn’t unusual for me to experience a myriad of emotions within a 24-hour span. Brutal, yes, but I learned a great deal about myself, and have realized it’ll all work out — life has a way of making things just so. Sure, the path is riddled with crap and more crap, but it’s worth it all in the long run.

So, thanks for your support. I do plan on writing more political posts since we’re smack-dab in one of the biggest political pig fucks of all time. What’s happening in this presidential election season breaks my heart, makes me laugh and gives me hope.

Odd, yes, but it’s not unlike what I’ve personally experienced during the past year.

(Attempted) Murder She Blocked

I dig Facebook. It’s no great secret. It’s fun, a monumental time-waster and a great tool for keeping up with old friends, finding new ones and for other assorted activities.

I especially like reading the comments under peoples’ status updates and posts. To me, the comments are similar to the letters to the editor sections of newspapers and magazines. You can learn a great deal about someone by their comment(s). Some make me laugh, some make think, then there is the rare comment that gives me pause. Why? I don’t really know. But, I end up reading the comment several times — maybe even walk away from it for a day or two, then reread it to see if I still gave a shit about it.

This particular one is the shit — and then some. I have no idea who this woman is, or if it even is a woman. I want full-safeties since I don’t want this fish coming back at me.

“I have blocked, defriended, etc. more people since the attempted murder incident than the entire time on FB. I literally got kicked out of my elementary school group b/c I defended myself against this alcoholic who said, “$***, I have contacted Dr. Marlena Evans of Days of Our Lives and she’ll be in touch soon.” Also, a gay guy – I love my gay friends and they want to track this dude down and make him use another gender identity term – was saying, “Well, I only know your side, not his…” (like anyone deserves to be stabbed). I said to all that he has PTSD and the VA did nothing. But a lot of people are blocking the hell out of people, so maybe everyone is going nuts…I’m not joining them, though.”

Discuss.

Shitty news: The mid-week roundup

The past few days have been rough. First, a barbaric law in Florida has allegedly played a role in the death of yet another young black male. My heart aches for his family and friends who mourn Trayvon Martin, but this heartbreak doesn’t match the anger I have for the state of Florida for being the land of choads. Social media stepped up to the plate this time in a big, important way. If it hadn’t been for Facebook and Twitter, Mr. Martin’s death would’ve been another sad footnote in the history of violence aimed at young, black AMERICAN males. This shouldn’t be happening in this day and age. This country has made leaps and bounds with regards to other aspects of social justice, but we’re lacking when it comes to the African American community.

Yes, yes, yes…how would I know how it is seeing that I’m a well-educated  white woman from an upper-middle class family? First and foremost, I’m a human being and I view all human beings as equal. A relatively rare attitude as of late, since some of my white brothers have their knickers in a twist over the fact that we have a black POTUS, and believe that Mr. Obama is going to take away their ‘rights.’ Whatever the fuck that means.

What happened to Trayvon Martin affects all of us. With some it’s immediate and profound, with most of us it’s subtle. This type of senseless death chips away at the structure of American society little by little. I pray that justice will prevail.

Onward.

This guy needs to shuttie his pie hole. Folks who don’t listen to NPR or pay attention to when the media do an ‘Oops! Our bad!’ don’t know the whole Mike Daisey tale of whoa! In short, Mike Daisey is a guy who did a play/performance piece about the horrors of working in an Apple factory in China. Turns out, most of the yarn was fabricated but that didn’t come to light until after “This American Life” did a whole story on Daisey and his play. Note: TAL fact checks everything. EVERYTHING. Daisey lead them astray with his ‘facts’ and that’s where the trouble began. Then, TAL devoted yet another whole show to the fabrication. Got it. Should be the end of it, riiiight? Nope, now Daisey is blaming his wife when he should just shut it down, lick his wounds and do some serious soul searching because he doesn’t want to be known as the Stephen Glass of the performance art world.

Looks like my former governor will be going through some unfortunate changes whilst in the pokey for being all greedy n’ shit. That hair color is not his own–it’s manufactured then sent to drugstores between hither and yon where Mr. Barbers everywhere can buy it for their vain customers.

From the Chicago Sun-Times via the AP.

Blagojevich’s barber: Ex-gov’s hair is dyed,will turn gray in prison

“Rod Blagojevich’s barber says the former Illinois governor’s famously thick, dark hair is dyed and will turn gray within the first months of his prison term.

Peter Vodovoz, also known as “Mr. Barber,” has been Blagojevich’s barber for more than two decades. Vodovoz said Wednesday that the 55-year-old Blagojevich has dyed his hair for years.

Blagojevich reported to a Colorado federal prison last week to begin serving a 14-year sentence for corruption. A prison spokesman says hair dye is banned because inmates could use it to change their appearances in escape attempts.

Vodovoz says Blagojevich’s dark-brown dye will fade quickly, and he could be as gray as talk show host Jay Leno within three months.

When he was governor, Blagojevich was so obsessive about his hair he had a security official carry a brush.”

Hey gov, as the song goes — “A change would do you good.” It would do all of us good since I’m a bit weary of my homestate being the political laughing stock of this nation. Now please Rod, go away so us Illinoisans can get back to business as usual. Well, maybe not AS usual since that behavior tends to land our fearless leaders into buttloads of trouble with the Feds. Also, looking like Jay Leno ain’t necessarily a compliment.

Here’s another who should shuttie her yapper. What’s sad here is how the baby daddy wants nothing to do with his son. Shame on him. And shame on her for not wearing any make up. Knowing how this country is, she would’ve garnered a lot more sympathy had she tried to whore it up a bit during the initial interviews and investigations.

There’s something quite unappetizing about this. Gross. Art, schmart. I’ll say it again: Gross.

Next time, toss a salad in the way we’d all like to see. Orrrr….maybe not. You decide for yourself.

Finally … well, you’ll see.

Musings on random crap redux

I’m back.

I’ve got much to say.

The human race has been busy — and not in a good way.

First, this little tidbit from Good.is

Forced Friends: Want a Job? Give Up Your Facebook Password

Side note: A few months ago, I had two phone interviews where my age came up. During the first one, the M.E. of a publication in Florida flat out asked me how old I was. When I politely reminded him that question was illegal, his response before he hung up on me was, “What are you going to do about it? In this economy, I can ask whatever questions I want! It’s my word against yours!” At first I was outraged and contemplated telling the useless EEOC, but then realized that I’d never want to work for a company where the folks in charge felt the laws were troublesome guidelines rather than binding agreements.

The second place, located in Chicago, tried to be a scosch creative with trying to figure out my age. The youngin’ asked me what type of music I listened to in high school because the company “wanted to get a feel for their prospective employees’ tastes and whatnot.” I saw right through this little ruse, however, and sang the praises of Edith Piaf and Benny Goodman. When the desired answers weren’t flowing threw the black wires, my interviewer tried another angle: “What were your favorite television shows when you were growing up?” Answer: “We didn’t have a television.” The interview was over soon after, and I was bathed in relief.

FYI-I’m not THAT old. Sadly, ageism is alive and well, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

Onto the article.

“Concerns about the safety of Facebook profiles are valid, especially as the company grows and people share more information on the site. Facebook has had frightening breaches of user trust in the past, and some questions about where its loyalties lie—with consumers or with corporations—remain unanswered. Nobody can predict whether Facebook will end up taking advantage of the information provided by the millions of people who log into it every hour. But while Facebook itself waffles between creepy and benevolent, it turns out some people are using the site to get downright evil when it comes to online privacy.

An in-depth report from MSNBC reveals numerous documented instances of American colleges and employers demanding that students, employees, and applicants open up their Facebook profiles for review. Tecca.com reported last year on a police department in North Carolina that asked people applying for a clerical job, “Do you have any web page accounts such as Facebook, Myspace, etc.? If so, list your username and password.” The Maryland Department of Corrections also asked applicants to hand over their passwords, until an ACLU complaint killed that practice. Still, some applicants report being asked in interviews to log into their Facebook profiles and allow the interviewer to look over their shoulder while they click around their photos and wall posts.”

Glad that the ACLU put the kibosh on the whole handing-over-the-passwords bullshit.

“It doesn’t end with the job market. College students—athletes in particular—are also subject to this invasive line of inquiry. In the new player handbook for athletes at the University of North Carolina, a passage reads, “Each team must identify at least one coach or administrator who is responsible for having access to and regularly monitoring the content of team members’ social networking sites and postings. The athletics department also reserves the right to have other staff members monitor athletes’ posts.” Elsewhere, students have been told they have to friend their coaches, thus giving the coaches total access to their accounts.”

Could you imagine being the person who is in charge of lurking around some athlete’s Facebook page? It would either be boring or frustrating — by frustrating I mean I’d want to correct the horrible grammar and spelling I came across.

More …

“To be sure, there are ways to lock down your Facebook account, even from “friends,” but should anyone be forced to to resort to such lengths?”

That’s a good question, and that is why I’m private on Facebook. It’s tough to find me and once you do, you can’t access my account or any info without my permission. Then, once you’re a friend, I’m still tough to figure out.

“In an effort to catch law up with society, two Maryland state legislators are sponsoring a bill that would prevent schools and potential employers from seizing access to people’s social networking sites. In the meantime, it’s important to take note of at least one major factor driving these insane invasions of privacy: the terrible economy.

It’s simple: In a world in which options are plentiful, people don’t subject themselves to totalitarianism in order to secure employment. They go to a job interview, and when the interviewer starts demanding to rifle through their personal digital lives, they get up and leave, confident they can go somewhere else for work. The reason anyone is allowing potential employers to treat them like this is because a job is hard to come by these days, and so you do whatever you can to get employed—even if that means having your right to privacy trampled. Illegal immigrants have suffered with this “steady employment vs. avoiding abuse” dilemma for years. Now it’s come to the Maryland Department of Corrections. When economic stability erodes, so does the list of things people won’t do to get that stability back.”

Simply put, employers can do sneaky stuff to prospective employees because the economy is in the shitter, and since so many folks are looking for work, we are more than likely to put up with all of it. Like the article states, hopefully these questionable screening tactics will fall by the wayside once the economy improves. Who knows when that will happen though.

Onward.

Some things are just too gross to discuss. My stomach hurts just thinking about ingesting this.

These have got to be the ugliest fucking things I’ve ever laid my hazel eyes upon. Looks like Mr. West is spending too much time with a glue gun and believing his minions when they spew the words “genius” and “renaissance man” in the same breath as his name. Also, any stylist (even the trash peddlers Kim Kardashian hires) who thinks this is a good look, should consider spending some quality time at Trembling Acres and give E.S.T. a try, AND invest in a good mirror. But, for fun, look at them again. Then again. And again and eventually you’ll either want to gouge your eyes out with a spork, or will want to move to Death Valley, never to return.

And last but not least, I have a feeling that the throw-up I just produced in my mouth, tastes a lot like this stuff.