My one-time-only facebook rant (I promise)/earplugs

You know what someone should invent? A virtual “punch in the throat” option on Facebook. Everyone and their grandmother has a Facebook these days, as I’m sure you have realized, my internet friend.

Now, I swore for a long time that I would never include in one of my blog posts a rant about Facebook, because everyone else does that.  But alas, I have reached a very special age in my life. There is an age from about 16-21 where you think you know exactly what you are doing. You are confident, you are enthusiastic, and you are pretty sure that you will one day be famous.

You see, 18, 19, and 20 year olds are just as stupid and naïve as 16 year olds. The only thing about 16 year olds is that they are legally not allowed to do certain things, like get tattoos, credit cards, marriage licensees, etc.

BUT.

When you hit 18 you can now legally do all the stupid shit you always wanted to do when you were 16. There is nothing holding you back from making really, really bad decisions. So when I go on Facebook these days, I see post after post of my now legal peers. One girl that sat at my lunch table in junior high got engaged to her boyfriend (of 7 months, I must add) over the weekend. Less than five years ago I watched that girl struggle to make lunchable pizzas every day and now she thinks she is capable of emotionally and financially supporting herself, as well as her "fiancé" for the rest of her life.

Now, what I said to her when she made the announcement was, “HORRAY! YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING IS SOOOOOOO KEWTTTTTTTTTTTT! Don’t worry that it’s one of the nine dollar ones from Walmart, girly! It’s the thought that counts!”  

But what I wanted to say was, "Anyone wanna start a pool? Pot goes to the person who guesses correctly the month/year that they will inevitability get a divorce. My guess is t-minus 72 hours after the ceremony, when they realize that neither of them can afford a cab ride back their separate dorm rooms."  

I also see a flux of people getting the most ridiculous of tattoos. “Oh god.” I say as I scroll past their enthusiastic posts. “You are going to wake up one morning when you are 37 and really, really regret that Whinnie the Pooh quote you have engraved across your entire torso.”

So nerds, get out there and go invent a virtual punch-in-the-throat option on Facebook, so I can reprimand these, stupid, stupid assholes.

I (obviously) will retain the patent, but we can split the profit 70/30.

I get the 70.

On another note, I just watched my dog shit out a pair of earplugs.

That shit cray. (#pun)

Life's Big Questions/Interview With a Toddler

So, you know how sometimes when it’s late at night on a Sunday and you are looking at the ceiling trying to fall asleep and all these weird, motivational thoughts come into your head? Things like “You know what? Maybe I should start hugging people more often”. Or "Hey. I am going to start writing a new blog post every Wednesday, because I need to give the people what they want. And by the people I mean the 3.5 people that I force to read my blog and also that one person from Bangladesh who I'm pretty sure is just trying to steal my identity." And after you say those things you totally forget about them until 11:57 on Wednesday night when Jimmy Fallon says “it's Wednesday!” and you say “FUCK” out loud to no one in particular?  

You know what I’m talking about? Okay good.#samepage

So, what I have for you is the manuscript of a recording that I made today when I was babysitting my pal Ryan. He is sometimes hard to entertain. And when I say he I mean me.

So what I did today was record a video as I asked him some of life’s big questions. Basically, I Matt Lauer’d the shit out of this kid. He mostly just stared at the camera in silence, so the video ended up being not as entertaining as I thought it would be. HOWEVER, after I turned it off, I secretly sound recorded our following conversation with my handy dandy iphone app, which I will lovingly type out for you. And by lovingly I mean I hate you.

Just kidding! (Kind of).

Me: So Ryan, how old are you?

Ryan: *he holds up three fingers and then stares at them, utterly consumed and completely concentrated. He then dramatically changes his three fingers to two fingers, and lets out a long sigh of relief. *

Me: So you are two?

Ryan: yesh

Me: Neat. So, what’s your favorite color?

Ryan: Wut

Me: White?

Ryan: yesh

Me: Good for you for going against the grain on that one. Not many people pick white as their favorite color. What do you want to be when you go up?

Ryan: ..........?

Me: You know, how your mom and dad go to work? They have jobs? You can be a doctor or an athlete or a rock star or a mediocre honey salesman, etc. What do you want to do when you get older?

Ryan: Geen.

Me: Green?

Ryan: yesh

 Me: That’s what you want to be when you grow up?

Ryan: yesh

Me: Well, to each his own, amiright?

Ryan: ...........?

Me: Alright then, then lets carry on.  Ummmm.....

Ryan: (mockingly) Ummmm.....

Me: What is your favorite thing? What makes you happy?

Ryan: wut.

Me: you know...happy? Like when you smile and stuff?

Ryan: wut.

Me: happy?

Ryan: w u t

*I can see he is struggling with this one, which is reasonable. It’s a tough question to answer until you have tasted your first sip of alcohol. I begin to list things out, things like apple juice, puppies, and Barney, all of which he replies “yesh”. I say “cigarettes” at the end just to confirm his comprehension at this point, and he still says “yesh”, so I don’t really know how accurate this interview is going to be.*

Me: How do you think Obama is running his office so far?

Ryan: *he mostly just babbles and it is difficult to follow, so I have derived a rough translation for you* : My brother Scott ran away once, all the way down to the end of the street. My parents were super pissed, but personally I thought it was a kick-ass form of rebellion. They asked Scott to clean up. CLEAN UP. Like, that’s such bullshit, right? Well Scott was just not going to take that shit. He was all like, what is this? The Help? And he flew straight out the fuckin’ door. Can you believe it? Anyways, one day I’m going pull that shit too, and it’s going to be awesome.    

*again, I said rough translation*

Me: That has nothing to do with what I just asked you, but that’s fine, let’s roll with it. What are your thoughts on gay marriage?

Ryan: meeeeeeeelllllllllllgggrreeeeee pappynanananananana wut. Applejuicebarneyscott

Me: Every, citizen has a right to his own opinion, I guess. Next question. What are your thoughts on foreign affairs?

Ryan: *picks up his toy helicopter and holds it up in the air above his head and just stares at it.*

Me: That one is pretty self-explanatory.  

Ryan: Heeeeeeecoooppppptttaaaahhhhhhh APPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLLLJUICEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

And that’s where I ended things.

As you can see, the wheel is a turnin’ up there but when it comes time to annunciate things, toddlers are a little on the slow side.

Also, it is Thursday now. DON’T GIVE ME YOUR SASS, BITCH. I WAS BUSY AND ALSO TIRED AND COULDN’T POST IT LAST NIGHT AFTER I FINISHED.  SUCK MY DICK. Or don’t. #womensrights

Summer

Ahhhhhh Summer,

I love summer! It’s the most wonderful time of the year :) A time where stay at home moms facetiously joke about committing  suicide but also kind of mean it a little, and a time when children’s cute little lips turn blue. (No, you sick bastard! Not because they drowned in the pool! Because they eat a lot of blue raspberry jumbo pops! God, I can’t believe you would even think of that. You are so fucked up in the head.)

(Question: How long does it take claire to make you feel a little uncomfortable and slightly offended? Answer: About 2.3 seconds.)

I’ve been thinking lately about some of my favorite childhood memories of summer, and I thought I would share some with you...

1)   There was one summer where every day I would sit on the front lawn next to my poodle and knit potholders. I would also play my harmonica for passersby. Let that one marinate for a minute.

2)   My dad once accidently left the hot tub on for almost a week. It ended up spilling into the pool and making the pool water 98 degrees. I enjoyed this, so I didn’t tell him for another week.

The gas bill that month was an extra $535.

3)   In the summer of 4^th grade I choreographed an entire dance routine to “Hey Ya!” by Outkast. It was mostly me doing the “snorkel” and I only ever preformed it for J-Kwon. (See favorite childhood memory number 8 for reference).

4)   One summer I ate the snowball that had been sitting in the freezer since Christmas morning.

5)  I once went through a phase where I was obsessed with paper mache. I made a bunch of useless crap, from (multiple) “decorative” vases to a spaghetti bowl that you couldn’t eat spaghetti out of.

6)  I once caught a bad case of bronchitis and had to stay in the hospital for a night. I had lost a lot of weight and the doctors didn’t know why, so as a precaution I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unless I rode in a wheelchair. I really took advantage of all my newfound attention, and also made a powerpoint about how I wanted to go to Disneyland for my “make-a-wish”. Turns out you don’t get a “make-a-wish” for being dehydrated.

7)  I used to hate how water balloons broke so easily, so I would take special, unbreakable 24” mega balloons (you know, the balloons they use to advertise at car lots?) and fill them with 30 gallons of water and leave them all over the backyard. This really pissed my parents off.

8)  I had a blow up pool toy killer whale that I pretended was a real whale. I named him J-Kwon, after the beautiful mind behind the 2004 smash hit “Tipsy.”

 

Look at that stylin' muthafucka. We were total pals.

 

9)   One summer I was mistakenly charged with the theft of some shoes and was sent to a harsh juvenile center in the middle of the desert and forced to dig holes in search of treasure. Long story short, I met a tiny, illiterate black kid and we ended a generational curse and there were lizards and peaches and stuff. Yeah, that was fun. 
 

10)I once ate two Wendy's Texas double cheeseburgers and large fries. My dad ordered the same meal except he couldn't finish his.

 

 

I'm about to tear up over here. This is getting too wonderfully emotional. Nostalgia is the like vexatious ex-spouse of emotions, always there to remind you that you are old now, and nothing will ever be the same.  

Happy summer to all, and to all a good night.