OK, now that we've gotten that out of the way, how the hell has
everyone been?? I have been neglecting my relationship with the internet (the
most important one I have FYI) and with you wonderful people in my little
corner of the internet. Everything just came too fast this year! BAM 2 days
before Xmas and no shopping done. BAM Christmas Eve and family and trying to
enforce present opening protocol. BAM Christmas Day and wearing my PJ's tucked
into my red cowboy boots and forcing my sister (Lindz) to play Rock Band 3 with
me.
It was still a
great Christmas though and I hope all of yours were equally great (but that
maybe you got lucky and your family followed protocol). I think I would like to
tell you about the protocol so that it is preserved for future years when
everyone tries to pretend like they've never done it before.
Actually I'm
going to write a bunch of posts while I have the inspiration and then even when
I'm gone for a week on my cruise for my aunt's birthday (you heard me; it's
fine to be jealous) you can have my presence (you're so goddamn spoiled) EVERY
DAY. I'm gonna save them as drafts and have my mom post one a day for me. I
haven't actually asked her to do that yet...hey mom, will you post my posts for
me while I'm away?
So, I'm going
to get to that (this post was just to let y'all know I'm still alive). I've got
a bottle of champagne to myself (because everyone bailed on me and I hate my
roommate) and a whole evening of The League and blogging planned. I hope
everyone has a kick ass time getting shit faced and ringing in 2012.
Well, not YOU the person reading this, but YOU the people I went to school with. Why is that? You need some back story to understand the answer to that question.
In high school, my best friend (The Pretty One) and I were always looked at sideways. First it was "yous guys must be lesbians because you say i love you to each other and grab ass a lot' then it was 'well, fine, maybe you aren't screwing each other but you must be screwing everyone else because you talk openly about sex.' I went to a painfully conservative Baptist high school and when I wasn't busy giving teachers aneurysms by saying I support gay marriage and am pro-choice I was gallivanting around with The Pretty One talking about sex (which we knew nothing about). So, most people (teachers included) figured we'd be pregnant, married to a jailed felon, or in jail ourselves within a year of graduating.
This is where me being better comes in.
*I am not married
*I have not procreated
*I am not cohabitating
*I am not pregnant
*I have not been to jail
(Disclaimer: I do not think these things are so awful (except jail) it is only within the context of my hyper-religious school and the students who were exemplary there are the ones doing these things and the girl who was always pulled out of class for "counseling" is not)
This whole reflection was sparked by my roommate being arrested the other day. I know I claimed to be classy and that sounds super NOT classy, but I swear I wasn't involved AT ALL. She and her boyfriend got into an argument and she got physical with him. They were screaming at each other, she was hitting and scratching him, and apparently around 4 of our neighbors called the cops on them. Per the rules of domestic disturbance calls, the police had to take her in overnight.
We call that karma, bitches.
I really was gonna do a positive post about stuff I actually like (I know you thought I just hate everything) but this was too good to pass up! I'll do something less Judgy McJudgerson soon!
Stop having sex. There's
plenty of time and I guarantee you aren't emotionally ready to understand
what's going on, nor are you physically ready to appreciate what's going on.
Get some Barbies, make them be naked together, and ask your parents awkward
questions; no one should be touching your goodies at this point except you.
Sincerly,
A Woman you are Aging
Prematurely by Being Sexually Active
RANT:
I don't know why I do it. I
always look at stuff I know is gonna rile me up. This time it's actually the
fault of one of the 50 blogs I read;thisblog post
mentioned an article on AskMen.com entitled "Top 10 Subtle Ways to Tell
Her She's Getting Fat" so obviously I had to go read it even though I knew
it would make my HulkRage act up.
This website is so
alternately depressing and rage inducing. It makes me question everything I
thought I had learned about human relationships and what I've been aiming for
in finding one of my own. It brings up scary questions like 'Does anyone
actually like anyone else?' Is everyone just looking to score the hottest piece
of ass they can? I'm already a paranoid and suspicious being; I really don't
need this added bullshit to make me even MORE paranoid and suspicious. Some
"highlights" of this barrel of shenanigans:
#2: Buy her clothes that are too small
If you buy her clothes that are obviously
too small for her, not only will she finally have to admit that she’s putting
on weight, but she can easily return them for her correct size. First, she’ll
have to reveal to you that the clothes are too small. “Oh,” you might say, “I
thought you were a size 8. Isn’t that what you were last summer?” The onus is
now on her to do something about it.
A. Don't buy me clothes
ever. You have bad taste; that's why I pick out YOUR clothes. B. Fuck
off.
#7: Playfully grab her love handles
Ask any man and he’ll tell you that he instinctively flexes his biceps
whenever a woman touches them. The same thing goes for a woman when you make
contact with any unwanted flab: She recoils and feels embarrassment. Use this
reaction to your advantage. Even if she thinks that you’re too busy at work to
have noticed a few extra pounds, if you continually rest your hand on her love
handles (or even lightly pinch them), she’ll soon realize that you’re becoming
increasingly aware of something that never used to be there before.
A.
This is psychotic. Might as well gift wrap that eating disorder, asshole. B.
Fuck Off.
#3:
Sign her up for yoga under the pretence of "stress relief"
This works particularly
well if your girlfriend still hasn’t worked out the link between an active
lifestyle and emotional well-being. Tell her you have found exactly what she
needs to help her relax, a regular spiritual cleanse in the form of a yoga class. Make sure
you choose an intense, calorie-burning form (power yoga or ashtanga yoga),
otherwise she may end up rolling around on the floor a couple times a week with
no real benefits. The beauty of yoga is that if you dress it up as a way to relieve
stress, she may not realize that she’s being tricked into shedding a few
pounds, and even if she does, you’ll end up with a happier, more self-confident
girlfriend rather than a grumpy lard-ass.
A. If all your girlfriend
is to you is a "grumpy lard-ass" in between being 2 wet holes, why do
you have a girlfriend? B. Fuck Off. C. I love that the advice is to ACT like
you're doing something nice for her when, in actuality, you're still being a
shallow dick. D. Fuck Off.
#5: Serve her
unsatisfactory portions
When dishing up meals
for the two of you, try giving her smaller-than-usual amounts. By making her
ask for more food, you might succeed in shaming her into an acknowledgment of
her recent weight gain,
and hopefully to instigate a conversation about what she’s going to do about
it. If you feel as though you’re starving yourself in the process, remember you
can always go back for more when she’s not looking.
A. JESUS EVERFUCKING
CHRIST! THERE IS NO BULLETED LIST FOR THIS. THIS IS THE MOST DEPRAVED FUCKING
THING I HAVE EVER READ BEING PASSED OFF AS A REAL OPTION. 'SHAMING HER' HOLY
SHIT BALLS. WHYWHYWHY?? AND THEN THEY GET TO GO BACK WHEN SHE ISN'T LOOKING?!
BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE STATURE OF A GOD AND SHE'S PUT ON WEIGHT SO NOW YOU GET
TO DISCUSS 'WHAT SHE'S GOING TO DO ABOUT IT'?? HER ONLY APPROPRIATE COURSE OF
ACTION IS TO CASTRATE HIM WHILE HE SLEEPS. B. Fuck Off. C. Die in ALL THE
FIRES.
On the off chance that a
"man"(of the type that would actually do those things) stumbles upon
this: yes, I am a fat chick. Yes, I could be prettier. Now that I've nipped
your typical responses in the bud, back to what I was saying.
Is this not frightening to
anyone else? People are always saying that feminists need to STFU because
everything is fine. This right here is NOT fine. Not by a long shot. This is
how some people actually think of women and the standards they should be held
to in terms of looks. That means the work is not done. /rant
That happened. I got called a "buttmunch" by a grown
man. Do these crazies really not understand why they're single?? I mean, I've
never had a truly healthy, stable, grown-up relationship, but even I know this
is not the way to get one.
Backstory: I
told this guy I'd go out with him. I said I'd meet him at a place downtown on
Wednesday at 8:30 p.m. On Tuesday night:
Dec. 6, 9:48pm
NutJob: hi
NutJob: i was there waiting for you
NutJob: hi?
NutJob: [frowning emoticon with broken heart]
BriBri: Huh? I
said Wednesday
This kid never responded to that, so I assumed he figured I blew
him off and that would be it...I am an idealist. He messaged me the next night
saying that he had gone to the restaurant again. I obviously wasn't there. He
got all sad emoticon-y all up in my business. I said sorry and he said
"YOU ARE A REALLY REALLY MEAN PERSON" judging by that I started to
get concerned that I was unknowingly being preyed upon by a middle school boy. I informed
him of my suspicions that he is a nut job and he just let loose a stream of
crazy like you've never seen. Then he signed off and I figured THAT would be
the last of him...why am I always wrong?
3 days later he IM'd me and told me he couldn't forgive what I
said about him; I responded with 'mmk' NutJob let loose some cray-cray key
smash and told me to go to hell and that I was a "horrible girl." He
called me 'mean' a few dozen times, then he brought out the heavy artillery:
"buttmunch" is all the message said. I have not heard that 'insult'
uttered since middle school. He sent a devil emoticon and said that was me. He TOLD me to apologize. Now, as anyone who knows
me is aware: I am not TOLD to do things by anyone, save my parents and my
bosses. I still kept my cool though; I swear I wasn't actually mean to this
guy. He just legitimately seems to be off his damn rocker. I inquired as
to his age: "BriBri: are you 12?" He did not care for that either.
Some more KEY SMASH ensued. He demanded I apologize; I did not.
I read the whole conversation to my mom and Killa and we legit had
trouble catching our breath. I just cannot believe this is how some grown
people choose to interact. Also, AS I WAS TYPING THIS, NutJob IM'd me
saying "let's go out" This is a joke right? I'm being Punk'd? Please
say yes.
In other news, my parents and my sister came to town this weekend;
there's nothing to do in this place so we toured the campus of a school I do
not even attend...and this:
I think his Jockey ads
are sexy, but I do not enjoy his morality; possibly because I have questionable
morals.
I've got half an hour left of Thursday. Let's do this shit. I've
had to deal with some of the rudest, shittiest guests ever this week (if you're
just joining us (or forgot, cause who gives a fuck) I work at a hotel). These
people suck.
Dear Ornery
Guests,
You suck.
Yeah, I said it. What is it about hotels that turn you people into sniveling
infants? If your plumbing is backed up, I understand your frustration and,
perhaps, anger. If you booked a King size bed on Priceline for 12 bucks and I
put you in a 2 double because we're out of kings, do NOT call me and say
"I NEED a king size bed." I just fucking told you, I don't have any!
This isn't Hogwarts; there's no room of requirement that appears when your fat
ass decides it can't fit in a Full sized bed. Lay down, shut up, and go to
sleep. Hey, yous! Yeah yous guys that call in wake up calls for times like 6:55
or 7:10; please go die in all the fires. You're a grown ass person, you can
pick a quarter hour interval just like everyone else. If you need to wake up at
douchebag:30, you can set your cell phone alarm or the alarm clock PROVIDED IN
YOUR ROOM. Also, while we're on wake-up calls, do not ask me to call you back
in 5 minutes. Please refer to the portion of the seminar where I reminded you
that you're an adult and I am not your mother. Stop calling me to ask for the
WiFi password and then asking me to hold on while you sound out the word
'castle.' You called me, asshole, and I'm at work; you're just trying to watch
porn or check the Facebook. One last thing, do not come up to my desk, ask me
the rate, and then ask "is that the best you can do?" while either
looking disapproving or pervy. Yes, that is the best I can do. Actually, it
just went up 20 bucks for asking that dumbass question. Get it together, act
like a grown up, and STFU or GTFO.
xo,
Bri
Yes I
referenced Hogwarts. Deal.
Also, my parents and my sister are coming into town
this weekend for the first time in the 18 months I've lived here! I am psyched
and will probably not be posting this weekend, but I'm sure there will be
shenanigans. Now, hopefully they won't notice I'm broke. At least I'm broke
cause I got my mom a bitchin' Xmas gift. That negates it, right?
Someone finally listened to me and gave me a topic for our
Thursday snarks.Mandi (who is
currently doing a very funny rundown of stupid Xmas gifts, that I am loving) is
a landlady for an apartment complex I imagine to be kinda like mine since it's
in a college town and whatnot. So, basically, even though I'm not a man-child,
I'm pretty sure I'll have to take my own advice from this letter.
Dear
Man-Children,
I understand
that it is invigorating to be out in the world, forging your way forward, with
no one telling you what to do, but everyone else is sick of it. Being
disgusting is not a lifestyle choice. If you want mommy to still clean up after
you, then I suggest you go live with her; save non-gross people from having to
see not only the clothes you've been "sniff testing" and wearing for
a month, but the ghastly body they've been covering. If someone from your
leasing office is coming by to show your apartment: moldy pizza should be
thrown out, last night's 'great personality' must be shown out, and pants are
required. Not optional. I didn't know I'd need to explain this, but women are
slightly different from men. I've noticed that the presence of breasts (or a
padded bra) are really the only requirements for wanting to see someone naked
for the male populace. Let me learn you something here: more requirements exist
for the discerning (read: sober) woman. I can picture men naked when I drive
around campus at prime jogging time (curse you winter, with your jackets), but
you aren't those guys. Those guys could walk around in public naked; you may
not even walk around your apartment naked. I promise, you have a better chance
of getting laid with your clothes on (fumble in the dark like everyone else,
asshole). Invest in a garbage can, put on your pants, and smile at the
landlady; she's probably a funny ass bitch.
xo,
Bri
OK I know it's
Saturday, but I woke up on Thursday with a rash all over (though not on the bits
you'd be nervous about a rash on, so huzzah for that) and, honestly, I'm not
enough of a grown-up to know how to be "adult sick." As in, how to
take care of myself/fill prescriptions/go to work anyway/not have my mommy
around . So you're getting this late, but at least you're getting it at all (if
I had a nickel...). Also, my backspace button is being a bastard so any issues
with grammar or syntax should be directed to my backspace key.
I am in the throes of the longest night of my entire life. I'm not sure why it's like this, but Father Time is giving us the middle finger tonight. The hotel is incredibly slow and I'm the only scheduled desk clerk (or Guest Service Representative if you're feeling fancy) so I get to stick it out till 11 no matter how much I'd like to gouge my eyes out of my face.
I was gonna wait till I got home tonight and do a response post for the TWO (AHH!) blog awards I've gotten from some super awesome people, but then I decided I was gonna use my next two days off to watch all the Harry Potter movies (because I am a large dorkus). I know when I get home I will be too busy hunkering down to actually make a meaningful contribution to the internet (when has that ever stopped anyone, right?). So, instead, y'all get to feel like you're experiencing this hellish evening with me! YAY! Anyone? Fine, I don't need yous guys to party.
Please excuse the atrocious punctuation and syntax in this post; I am in danger of dying from boredom. The funny part is that I usually do things that other people would consider boring all day, every day of my life. It takes a lot to bore me, but I'm going stir crazy! Let's share awkward work stories and in the morning I'll make waffles! (Probably I'll just hand you a box of Rice Chex (See?? Even the cereal I eat is boring!) and then break it to you that I don't have milk.)
This one didn't happen to me, but it happened to my coworker while I was standing right next to her. Some backstory: Mark the Cab Driver (how he refers to himself, always) is a (guess what?!) cab driver in the area and he likes to drop in here at night and use the lobby computers. It used to be because he had the hots for the old night auditor; now he seems a little lost. MtheCD is also running for city commission.
Tonight he called the hotel and asked to speak to my coworker Corona (not actually her name (I hate that people are so fucked up with naming children that I feel the need to clear that up)). When she got on the phone we could (obviously) only hear her side of the conversation which went something like "Oh, hi...I'm good……….How are you?...............................................Well, actually I work nights.............Thanks for the invitation though!(she is incredibly too sweet and nice for her own good)" [side note: I was jumping up and down mouthing WHAT over and over again at this point.]
So, after she got off the phone we got the story: MtheCD had asked Corona to go to a "gala" with him for "a night of drinks and conversation." In case this isn't enough WTF for you, let me tell you that Corona is 23, tall, and pretty; MtheCD is (if I had to guess) early forties, thick-ass glasses, and porn 'stashe. I mean, for serious, dude? It made Corona feel nauseous, but it made me laugh REALLY HARD and, let's face it, that's all that really matters.
I'm not trying to insult y'all or anything by breaking up the text blocks, I just don't want anyone to look at my blog like tl;dr when you see a huge blocks of text; I made it more pleasing to short attention spans you're welcome.
Also, PLEASE someone e-mail me with an idea for Things They Need to Hear Thursday!!! I'll be your bestest internet friend; I promise I am the winningest friend ever. Ask The Pretty One, this weekend I literally made someone have sex with her (I know you're thinking I used literally wrong over there, but no I actually put someone's p in her v with my own hands. I like to think Gabs would understand the type of weeked that facilitates that type of behavior) Bri = Best. Friend. Ever
Email ideas to riflebabe143 [at] yahoo [dot] com (I believe you're smart enough to know how e-mail addresses work, I just wanted to be pretentious for a hot second)
OK, so this post has taken me forever! I think it was worth the wait. This post will introduce you to exactly what it's like to be my friend or be related to me. This is the kind of shit I am constantly bitching about (loudly) to whoever will listen (read: whoever I provoke). It's funny, but it also makes me all sad/mad when I realize it's 2011 and this publication still exists and more people aren't hating on it. My biggest gripe is always "where is the menfolk's guide to 8,000 ways to not piss women off?" This magazine is always chock-full (I accidentally typed 'cock' the first time; how Freudian of me) of advice that always reads to me as "101 Ways to Assure Your LTR is Completely Unhealthy." So, without further ado, Bri reads Cosmo:
Adele is amazing and should be on the cover of everything...but Cosmo makes me Hulk angry
This magazine is marketed to adult women, right? So, WTF is with asking Joe Jonas' opinion?
The way to Joe Jonas' heart is through Will Ferrell's ballsack
JJ: "I can't bone 'cause there's too much pink in here; butch it up, hoe."
Because YOUR comfort is the most important thing about MY house
Seriously has anyone ever been denied sex because they had pink decor? I think not. Joe Jonas is talking like he's never actually been invited into a woman's space...maybe that explains it.
Shit is right.
Is this kind of arrogance really 'the dream'?
there are no words.
I didn't realize I had so many castration methods at the ready until I read this.
The idea that real people said these things to other real people and they're still capable of walking is sad. I'm not sure if we're supposed to think that speaking to your significant other like they are gum on your shoe is hilarious or what.
Even Cosmo doesn't know what the hell it's talking about. On page 131 they tell us we should cover up around "our guy" because god forbid he view you as an actual human; you're supposed to be a sex kitten/goddess that is always wearing sexy lingerie and constantly ready for sex! Then on page 161 they change their tune; the article is titled '20 Reasons to be Naked this Winter,' six of which involve getting naked in front of that very guy you're supposed to cover up for. Cosmo is mind fucking me and no matter how many tips they have, I still don't like it.
Anyway, all my roommates and their significant others are out of town tonight. This is the greatest thing ever. Last time I thought they were all gone 1 walked in and says 'oh we aren't going to leave until tomorrow now' I was extremely sad about that. This is the only time I get to be in the living room without being forced to watch whatever shitty weed documentary or make small talk with the sketch-ass people that are always filing in and out of here. I've forgone pants, moved the table and couch closer to the TV (so that I'm typing this on our huge TV!), and am making buffalo chicken dip. I've gotta get back to this amazing and (way too) rare evening of being completely alone; The Big Bang Theory is waiting.
Happy Thanksgiving! I'm not doing Things They Need to Hear Thursday tomorrow, because I'll be driving then eating and I'm still working on a TTNHT post for Mondi (who is awesome).
It is that time again. Time to mercilessly point out the
shortcomings of others. Today's post was inspired by reading the comments on
Yahoo! News articles; some people just should not be allowed online.
Seriously, the comments section of Yahoo! News is its own
particular brand of entertainment/torture. Also, I'm rapidly running out of
Things They Need to Hear Thursday material, so if you can think of anyone,
anything, or any group that needs to hear something leave me a comment or drop
me an e-mail. Help me out, y'all!
I added the 'Part I' thing up there because, as any one who knows me can attest, I am constantly bitching about how much I hate things (most of which have no reason to be hated). Now, lots of people have tried to tell me how it's not good to hate so much, and how I'll feel better if I just let it go; I assure you that those people are wrong (and that if you're thinking that, so are you). I would not be me, in all manifestations of that illustrious idea, if I did not have my irrational pet peeves and hatred; believe me, I enjoy it immensely. Here is a little list of just the things I've been reminded I hate lately (now with explanations that won't make any sense to well adjusted people!):
Lovebugs- I cannot even adequately express my disdain for these things. It is that time of year down here where these damn things are EVERYWHERE; getting stuck to your clothes and your windshield and flying all up in your car if you have the windows down. They. are. awful. This isn't even a fear thing (like the frog thing is) this is a "My god, they are so fucking pretentious!" thing. I mean, if any of us were outside, on people's cars, jumping in people's windows while doing what these assholes are doing we would be arrested. They're just flying around and boning AT THE SAME TIME! I've taken to doing my part to curb this issue by immediately turning on my windshield wipers whenever a pair of fucking bugs (literally) lands on my windshield. They're rubbing it in your face, and it needs to stop.
Sneezing- This one is trickier and WAY more difficult to explain. I enjoy sneezing, it is especially awesome when you really need to and you've spent an hour bitching to your coworkers about how you need to sneeze but you can't. The problem, for me, is when other people sneeze; I know this makes me sound like a complete hypocrite and that's why I usually go somewhere private to sneeze or try to sneeze with my mouth closed (which is really awkward). I realized the other night that I think I just don't like jarring noises. I found myself hiding in my room while my roommate was vacuuming the other day and at work whenever maintenance is using the leaf blower in the breezeway I suddenly remember something that needs to be done upstairs. So, essentially, I'm some sort of Bones(my dog)-Bri hybrid that can walk and talk, but still runs away from the vacuum cleaner...and who would really appreciate it if you took your sneeze over there.
Heighth - This one. Holy shitballs. I absolutely cannot stand when people say this. In case you're one of the lucky ones and didn't spend an absurd amount of your time in high school throwing metal objects in the air, this is how some people (more than you think) say height; as in length, width,heighth.I am judging you so hard if you do this. It is not a word. Telling me that my spin is good, but I need moreheighth is like wearing a sign around your neck that just says "ASSHOLE." Oh and if you ever try to correct one of these they're all 'I think it sounds better that way' well I think it sounds better to say recockulous, but that doesn't make it a word. Please stop the madness, y'all. It's painful and you sound ignorant.
I have more, but I'm sure I've adequately displayed a few of my many issues to ensure that you all now know why I am single. Also, this post has been sitting pretty as a draft for a while and I wanted to put something up that wasn't emo as hell.
So, does anyone else irrationally hate things? Or is it just me?
That title is slightly misleading. Teen Witch does factor in, but
not till after I take a moment to do something I rarely do (even in my
non-internet life): Be serious. I promise it won't be too long, but it's some
stuff I want to say; and since the person I want to say it to has the emotional
maturity of a mop, y'all get to hear it instead.
Dear K,
I am not a
crazy bitch. I resent being treated as such. Telling someone you'll "be
over soon" and then never showing up or answering calls is a dick move. As
is not speaking to the person who is supposed to be your girlfriend with no
explanation aside from "Your roommate's boyfriend is manipulative." I
could understand your panic in realizing that you were almost 30, living with
your parents, and doing nothing in the way of making all your big dreams come
true. I cannot understand your attempt to blame those things on me. I was not
the reason you felt the need to drink a six-pack every night; I was not the
reason you chose to buy weed instead of save up to move out; I am not the
reason you chose to play video games all day instead of doing those lofty things
you needed so much "space" to do. I don't want to say these things to
you so that you'll come back; I don't want you back. I say these things because
I need to say them and you can't be bothered to listen: I hate the fact that I
can't see a shitty Saturn go by without checking to see if it's yours; I hate
the fact that your toothbrush is still in MY awesome elephant holder and your
shirt is still hanging in my closet; I hate that I let you make me
feel disposable; I hate that I shared Sugar with you; I hate that I shared
me with you.
Sincerely,
B
P.S. More
than all of that, I hate that you still have my Teen Witch DVD.
OK, so I'm
sorry about the somber note today. This guy was my boyfriend and it wasn't so
much that he dumped me as it is HOW he dumped me; he really did tell me he'd be
over soon and never showed up or talked to me. That was 3 months ago and I
still haven't heard from him. I'm irritated and embarrassed by this. I don't
get dumped. My pride has taken a major beating from this bullshit and, in
attempt to bolster it back up, I needed to say the stuff that's been swirling
around in my head.
On a lighter
note, I have a 2nd tiny "Things They Need to Hear" note:
Dear
Doubters,
You scoffed
when I asked if you had seen a movie in which 3 kids get tokens to go to the
"Mom Store" to select a replacement mother. You insisted that it
didn't exist. Well it does! It's calledTrading Mom.
Sounds like the title of something awesome...'cause it is! It's the name we've given our apartment after it undergoes its transformation into the ultimate safe house; when the zombies spread from Tex-ass (we all know these assholes will brag about the fact they had zombies first) to Florida we'll be ready. I usually don't get in on the random zombie apocalypse conversations, but then Yahoo! News (and my own twisted mind) decided to scare the living shit out of me.
I saw a headline the other day on the front page of Yahoo! that read just like one of those foreshadow laden news reports at the beginning of every modern day zombie movie.
Mystery outbreak ends HS game early. Symptoms: insatiable yearning for human flesh.
Essentially, a bunch of people in the bleachers of a high school in Tex-ass were just enjoying a football game and they started vomiting and passing out. For reals. They sent in a hazmat team and everything! The people had nothing in common that would trigger this; they had all eaten at different places and different times. All told, 22 people went to 5 different hospitals. I was officially freaked out. I mean really, I had managed to spend so much of my day thinking about this that when I walked outside to go to work, I thought I smelled blood; I pulled out my phone to tell Killa that I was right when Puddle yelled out to me from the top of the stairs. I screamed, y'all. Not a shriek or a yelp, a full-on "Holy shit! The killer is slicing my throat NOW" type of scream.
I told Killa about the imminent advent of the zombies. She maintained that her apartment would be a great safe house because it is like a cave (Are you a dumb bitch?). I was forced to remind her that almost her entire front wall is made up of a sliding glass door which is the equivalent of an "Open 24 Hours" sign at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I explained that, in actuality, my apartment would make an awesome safe house with very few modifications and room for everyone we like!
So now, obviously, I'm going to tell you about the ways in which we will make our apartment the perfect survival post. A few notes before we start: I live on the third floor, there are 3 bedrooms & 3 bathrooms in my apartment, and we are assuming staggering zombies (not those fast-type fuckers they use to make the action scenes more interesting). Let's do this:
#1 - Bedroom Appropriation - we have a good sized living room and without the furniture it will be the perfect common living area (which I guess is redundant to say since that's kind of the definition of a living room). So, the bedrooms will be reassigned alternate uses: My bedroom will be the pantry (because it is the most easily accessible to ambitious zombies), Cupcake's bedroom will be the infirmary (because her bedroom is furthest from the door), and Match's bedroom will be the armory (because we aren't doing this without a shit ton of weapons).
#2 - Alternate Entrance - going in and out the front door is like asking to be mauled by the undead. Our plan involves sabotaging the stairs and utilizing our 3rd floor balcony to its fullest potential. We will install a zip line that will carry one out over the parking lot to the vehicles we have at the ready (for scouting and hunting, obvs). Rope ladders that can be raised and lowered with little hassle will be the re-entrance method.
#3 - Ground Rules - anyone who gains entry to this fortress is required to agree to one rule: If you are bitten by a zombie, you will be shot. I'm sorry, but there is no room for negotiation here. We are not going to find a magical cure; this is about surviving, not thriving. Now, because we are not cold hearted assholes, Cupcake decided that everyone has to have 2 nice things about everyone else written down and on hand at all times. Should someone become infected, we will all tell them 2 nice things about them, then someone who is not extremely close to them would take them outside, and handle the situation. See? We even made a stipulation that we won't ignite a crisis of conscience by asking you to off your family members! Win-Win ("I do not think it means what you think it means").
Here's what my apartment looks like:
YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH AND STOP JUDGING ME!
I am now accepting applications to reside in our fortress; please provide any relevant skills, how your presence will detract from the general feeling of despair, and, on a scale of 1 to 10, how comfortable you are with possibly being called upon to kill an infected person.
This overly thought out post brought to you by: Tex-ass, pressure washing, and my recent viewing of The Evil Dead.
OK, so it's not Thursday. But just humor me because I like
alliteration and I'm gonna do this weekly,
so deal. Every Thursday we're going
to tell someone (or a group of people) something they need to hear, but maybe
don't want to hear. It might be nice, mean, sad, or snarky (probably this one
the most). So, without further ado, Things They Need to Hear Thursday:
Dear Confused Girls of Florida,
You may have noticed that it is getting chillier outside. You were
probably excited that you get to break out the Ugg boots, scarves, and the
puffy, fur trimmed coats; I don't blame you, they're cute accessories. Now, I'm
sure you're thinking when you're outside at night "Man, I've done
everything right; I'm wearing my snow boots, my cute scarf, and my parka. Why
am I still freezing?!" Well, I'm gonna help you out with this...PUT ON
SOME PANTS! You're wearing all the aforementioned cold weather wear and fucking
hot pants. If you wanna put your vagina out with a For Sale sign on it, then by all means, go ahead.
But no bitching about being cold because you believe you can't find someone to
bone while wearing pants; I assure you that the menfolk have no qualms about
removing your jeans as opposed to your hot pants.
Happy Winter Boning, y'all!
xo, Bri
Seriously?!
This has legit been bothering the hell out of me. It's as if they
actually have no idea why they're still cold with their winter clothes on even
though you can't even tell they're wearing pants with the puffy jacket
nonsense. Put on some pants, bitches. I think it bothers me even more because
you can tell they're uncomfortably cold, but they still venture out half
clothed for the viewing pleasure of people with penises. Can this please stop?
Can we all stop sacrificing our own comfort for the attention of someone else?
I'll wear paint splattered jeans and an ugly jacket; if someone who thinks
they're god's gift to the world doesn't want in on that because they can't
check out my vajay from 25 ft then so be it. I'm warm = I win.
Sorry that got heavy there for a hot second. So, we're doing this.
Jump on the bandwagon and let's tell people some shit they need to hear!
I did. I said I wouldn't and I did. I went to go see the Footloose remake. Do I understand why they remade it? No. Do I think it needed to be remade? Absolutely not. Was the soundtrack as good as the original? Pfft, no.
Footloose was a perfect movie already: Enough romance without giving you diabetes (you should be saying that die-uh-bee-tus), dancing, standing up to the man, and Kevin Bacon. There would be no box office 'flops' if all movies followed that same formula.
The new movie did some stuff OK and royally fucked up some other stuff; I was literally shouting my irritation in the theatre. The notes I took on my phone say "Jump back, holdin out for a hero, whorish dancing, shirt off, Music in the warehouse scene, "boston" accent, Not kenny loggins??" I'll try to arrange that into a coherent rant (which might be an oxymoron) or I might just get all fan girl on y'all; only time will tell. Let's go!
·Jump back: I have always loved this line. I used to tell my parents that I was going to make 'jump back!' a common way to express disbelief in my generation. I failed, but it is still an awesome line. Kevin Bacon's delivery is perfect; even if you didn't know what the phrase meant before, the way he says it makes it obvious what he means (he means "holy shit! You're making that up!"). In the new one, the kid just says "Jump back, restofthesentencehere." It isn't even an exclamation! What a letdown. Not cool, new Footloose, not cool.
·Holdin out for a hero: This was incredibly disappointing. Bonnie Tyler singing this song is capable of making you look at anyone you’re with and think “Seriously, this guy.” It is awesome. Well, they murdered the awesomeness. See, they changed the story around so that Ren’s mother had just died and that’s why he moved to Bomont (Why did the story have to get so sad? Plus, he only cares for the first ¼ of the movie so I don’t really get it). Anyway, they used a super slow, sad sounding version of Holding Out for a Hero during a scene where Ren is looking at his mom’s picture and being sad. FOR REAL. They did that. I don’t really get why. Just because you slow a song down and have a sad sounding bitch sing it doesn’t mean it’s an appropriate sad song. FAIL.
·Whorish dancing: One of the reasons the original was so great was that you were always firmly on the kids’ side; they just wanted to dance. They were just dancing in the original, not grinding on each other. In the remake of the scene where Ariel and all the kids are dancing outside the diner, Julianne Hough literally grabs a pole and starts dancing. Seriously? The problem here (besides once again implying that everything you do as a woman has to be for the purpose of turning on a man) is that when they’re all grinding on each other you begin to understand why the parents don’t want them dancing; you aren’t supposed to sympathize with the insanely religious townsfolk! This really bogged down the premise for me. The point is to agree that the town is being unreasonable and that there’s no harm in just dancing.
·Shirt off: This one ties into what I was saying up there. I never did like the character of Ariel, but I never viewed her as a slut. When Chuck and Ren are gearing up for their display of manliness (which is racing buses instead of playing chicken with tractors. Seriously wtf) she is riding in the bed of a truck and asks where the green flag is, the kid in the truck tells her to improvise. She is wearing a green shirt. SERIOUSLY?! They had to put in a scene with her shirt off why exactly? So much objectification it hurts. And they are selling this as an appropriate way to stand up for yourself to 13 year old girls!
·Music in the warehouse scene: 2nd best scene in the original. Kevin Bacon dancing angrily to powerful music. It’s awesome. In the remake… I don’t even know. The music was all wrong. It was mostly bass and it’s hard to dance to just bass. I was extremely disappointed. The new kid could actually dance (he didn’t need a body double like Bacon) but I couldn’t focus on that fact cause I was yelling about how shitty the music was.
·“boston” accent: This was just funny. Ren was from Chicago in the 1984 version, but in 2011 he’s from Boston. This is fine except the actor they had playing this Bostonian only said like 4 words in a Boston accent. He would fade in and out of it. He could say ‘car’ and a few other easy ones, but mostly he just had non regional dialect. A couple times I thought to myself “why did he say that funny?” because I forgot he was supposed to be from Boston till he said one word in a sentence funny.
·Not Kenny Loggins??: The end scene at the barn dance is iconic. The play Footloose for the 3rd time in the film, they dance, it’s awesome. In the new one, they did play Footloose, but not by Kenny Loggins. WHAT? Why not? They played a remake by Blake Shelton. I don’t mind Blake Shelton on principle, but I needed the resolution of that song to negate the shit I didn’t like in this movie. It wasn’t even done any different stylistically; it was just the same exact music and lyrics with a country twang. WHYYYY
So, that’s the list of shit I thought they did wrong. There were a few things I liked:
·Julianne Hough managed to make Ariel likeable (and remind me that I NEED some red cowboy boots). I hated this character in the 1984 version; she was a bitch and thought she was hot shit. In the remake, there was more reason to her rebellion and I appreciated that character development. I did think they over sexualized her with the taking her top off and dancing like a stripper. This movie hit home for me about how much sex we’re selling to 13 year olds (movie is rated PG-13); I have a 12 year old sister, this shit scares me and makes me worried for her generation.
·Willard! ZOMG I wish Willard was real; I’d be all over that cute, redneck, can’t dance, fight loving hick! In both versions Willard was the high point. The kid who played him in the new one more than lived up to the standard set by Chris Penn.
·The scene where Ren teaches Willard how to dance was still great (BEST scene in the original). They kept ‘Let’s Hear it for the Boy’ as the musical accompaniment to that scene (honestly, what other song would even work?) and it was awesome.
I apologize for how long that was. I don’t play around when it comes to Footloose and I had this stuff in my head. I’ll embed the different music I disagreed with and y’all let me know if you agree or disagree.
