IT'S OVER! IT'S FINALLY OVER!

Today is November 30 which means....NABLOPOMO is at an end! WOOHOO! Ring the bells! Sound the retreat!

Why the excitement you say? Why should I be excited about something I most certainly half-assed anyway? Why? WHY?!

Because even though I half-assed (and that's...literally half-assed...I don't think I posted even HALF of 30 posts during the month of November) it still caused me stress and anxiety when I would occasionally remember that I was supposed to be participating- reminding me that I was not even TRYING to make an effort. And that for every day that I was not posting- not even TRYING to post- after saying that I would at least try- I was FAILING.

But...then I thought, you know...instead of feeling like a Failure, I should feel like a Success! Because I am being a Success at Failing! And I should rejoice that I am proving to myself and others that I have not become Someone I'm Not. Someone that "wins" or "puts forth a lot of effort" or "gives a crap". I am, as I have always been and hopefully will always be, a Quitter.

I Procrastinate ("I can't post now! My hair needs to be checked thoroughly for split ends!" or "I can't post now! My shoe laces are in obvious need of being unlaced and then laced again!"). I Make Excuses ("Uh...my charger broke...causing me to lose so much momentum that I just can not possibly be expected to pick back up in two hours when my laptop finishes recharging. I just can not possibly recover from that kind of a set back. Honestly.")

And when it comes down to it, I'm just plain Lazy. Why post when you could...uh...not post?

Yes my friends, I am a Quitter. I don't "persevere" when "faced with obstacles". I don't "try harder" when "experiencing minor setbacks".

I never have. Some might say that makes me a "slacker" or an "underachiever". Someone who's "going nowhere". But you know what I say? I say it makes me "consistent".

So I may be a Quitter, but I'm always a quitter. No surprises here. Nope. Not a one. What I have not accomplished today I will not have accomplished tomorrow. Or a week from now. Or when I'm 60.

You can have your "goals" and your "satisfaction at a job well done".

When you're old and worn out and tired of carrying around the burden of your many achievements, you can leave your penthouse, sell your personal jet, and come hang out with me. You'll be able to find me. Just look around. I'll be the one smiling, with my feet up...

...livin' in that van down by the river.

SHARK BREAK!

This thing is way fun- and it actually IS relaxing seeing the little Shark or Orca follow your cursor around. The Shark is more graceful and therefore more relaxing, but the Orca is more fun cause it's FAT. You can change the Creature and Scenery by clicking on the pictures above and to the left. Enjoy yet another way to slack off and not do what you're presumably being paid to do right now! :)





http://www.sharkbreak.com/

RABID RODENTS DO NOT A HAPPY SWIMMING HOLE MAKE

Last night, as I sat in my cave, watching the news on the magic box, I...

...ok, ok...FINE....I wasn't watching the news. Everybody knows I don't watch the news, nor do I read the news PAPER. (Couldn't just leave it alone and let me tell my story could you? Had to call me out for never watching anything with more substance than Entertainment Tonight didn't you!? Sheesh. Blog readers these days...)

Anyway...I was watching My Name is Earl (happy now?!) and during the commercial break, they reviewed the headlines that would be airing on News at 11. In said highlights, they covered one of the funniest news stories I've heard in a long time. The news anchor reported that in a Baltimore area park, three people were attacked by...

...wait for it...


A RABID BEAVER.


Wait...what?! A rabid what? First, being the extremely immature human being that I am, I had to do a little Beevis and Butt Head inspired chuckling at the word beaver. ("Huh huh...she said beaver".) But even when one's mind is not totally residing in the gutter, the fact that people were attacked by a rabid beaver is still REALLY FUNNY. (Yes, probably not to the people who were attacked, but we're not concerning ourselves with them at the moment.)

I mean picture it...people pack a picnic lunch and drive to the reservoir with hopes high and visions of sparkling swimming holes dancing in their heads. They relax, maybe eat a little something, then slip into the water for some good ol' fashioned aquatic fun.

Then, out of nowhere...cue Jaws music....NOW!...Duh duh....duh duh....duh duh...stealthily making it's way towards the happy group comes...duh duh...duh duh...DUH DUH DUH DUH DUH RABID BEAVER! Screams of terror ensue as Rabid Beaver, Monty Python style, latches onto the throat of one of the unsuspecting swimmers, sending the rest into a panic.

Terrifying, yet oddly hilarious, no?

I'm sure that when describing the scene in years to come, the victims- when confronted with the ill concealed snickers of their audience- will say something like:

Well, that was no ordinary beaver! That was the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered marmot you ever set eyes on! Look, that beaver had a vicious streak a mile wide! It was a killer! He had huge, sharp-- eh-- he can swim about-- look at the bones!

And their audience will nod indulgently and poor Rabid Beaver Victim, realizing that his or her attempts at drama are futile, will slink away to join the other remaining Beaver Victims at the bar to reminisce about that sunny day at the park where they all were attacked by the very real, very alive...

Rabid Beaver of Loch Raven Reservoir.

BY GOLLY, BRAIN’S BACK!

Yes, dear friends, Brain is back and has shed the unflattering, yet previously apt, monikers of Crotchety and Old. Brain, although not un-crotchety enough to warrant being called Young and Perky, has at least upgraded to Grumpy. Which is an improvement!

What has Brain been up to in the last few months you ask? Well, my cherished readers, it’s been a harrowing couple of months for Brain I’ll tell you that. We last left Brain teetering precariously close to The Cliffs of Deadbeat. Brain had stopped producing ideas and was lounging around Skull’s property with no regard to rent or payment of any kind- and as you remember, Skull was through with such nonsense! The eviction notice went up and Skull waited for payment. And waited. And waited. (Skull is a Slum Lord yes, but Skull does have some compassion, and Skull gave Brain much longer than most Slum Lords would have to pay up.)

But alas, Ideas never came, and Skull remained unpaid. So Skull did what any self respecting Skull Lord would do and threw Brain’s belongings (there weren’t many) out on the sidewalk.

Well!

You’d think Brain would have straightened up and flown right so to speak, after all, Brain was homeless! But no, my friends, Brain became content...that's right... living in a van, down by the river. And what was worse, Brain even resorted to using the paper that used to serve as Idea Collectors for nothing but rollin’ doobies!

Sigh. Where was Chris Farley when Brain needed him? Brain clearly needed a good talkin' to.

Anyhow, Brain lived the Van Life for awhile, and enjoyed it thoroughly (‘who needs a Skull anyway”), but quickly ran out of paper for doobie rollin’ and that’s when life got hard. Eventually, Brain was even forced out of the van when Repo Man came to collect Past Due Van Payments. After that, Brain found that living in a VAN down by the river is fun, but just living down by the river is a drag.

So Brain dragged Brainself out of the proverbial Gutter, and scrounged together Some Ideas. After a few practice runs, Brain got back into the swing of things and it wasn’t long before Brain was able to use Brain’s Considerable Wit and Dashing Good Looks to charm the way back into Skull Village. (Skull’s a sucker for Considerable Wit and Dashing Good Looks.)

So in conclusion, Brain is back, but Brain knows that if Brain slacks on Ideas again, that Skull won’t be so forgiving. After all- Hell Hath No Fury Like a Skull Scorned.

So Brain, don’t go get all lazy and rest on the laurels of this one lousy post ya’ deadbeat. Are you listening to me, Brain?! Brain!!!

Future Laziness will Not Be Tolerated.

MY BRAIN THE RAISIN

It's official. My Brain has shriveled up. It has shriveled up into a Lazy Good for Nothing Crotchety Old Brain and has become a Bad Tenant. There it sits, lying about in my skull taking up space without providing me the Ideas that serve as its rent. I mean seriously. Does it think I'll just let it stay there without giving me anything in return? My skull is not called a Slum Lord behind its back for nothing- Skull expects payment! Payment in Brilliant and Amusing Anecdotes on which this Very Important Blog subsists.

Well dear friends, Skull has tacked the eviction notice up on Brain's door, threatening violence unless ideas are provided, so hopefully this dearth of posts will not continue.

Until then my friends, Skull offers up Amusement From Another Source to tide you over. I give you...

Burrito Cat.

Enjoy until next time.

THE SHIGGS- IT'S GOIN' AROUND

Everyone has at least one of those people at their workplace that rolls their eyes and acts like you're a filthy peasant any time you dare to ask them a simple(and reasonable!) question. They usually roll their eyes and scrunch their face up in an extremely unflattering expression, because how dare you waste their time with such trivial nonsense?!

Well, one of my friends at work (ok, lets be honest...my ONLY friend at work- we'll call her Work Friend) had a run in with one of these Eye Rollers yesterday. Work Friend happened to be in another building of our place of employment looking to speak with someone there. She didn't know what this person looked like (she works in a different building and has only worked there since about July) and ended up making the mistake of asking the very person she was looking for where she could be found. WELL! Instead of saying "That's me" like most reasonable people would do, muchas rolling of los ojos and scrunching up of la cara ensued. HOW DARE Work Friend make such a grievous error in the midst of Such an Important Person!

Was the Roller of Los Ojos wearing a name tag? No. Was the Roller of Los Ojos standing in her office where there is a large name plate somewhere in direct view? No. Was the Roller of Los Ojos in the hallway looking like any other person who works in that building? Yes. Is she famous? No. Does she have an E! True Hollywood Story? No. Do people spend millions to purchase her eyelashes on Ebay? NO!

So...there's no reason why work friend should know who she is.

Work friend of course came to me to complain (and I since DO know the indentity of the Eye Roller and could relate- she can be identified by the snotty string of pearls that she always wears- although today the pearls were replaced with a scarf tied around her neck- ick) and after at least...oh...ten seconds of serious discussion, we came to the conclusion that This Person obviously has an Inflated Sense of Their Own Importance and therefore must be given an Appropriate Nickname and then be made fun of mercilessly- and so, the below email correspondence was born:

Hope: I've worked here the same amount of time and more people probably know who I am- and I am of course...a nobody- so what does that say about you S.Higgs? What does it say? It says that you're less known than the sad little Office Ass in room 301.

Work Friend: Yupper. Shiggs definitely suffers from delusions of grandeur.

Hope: Shiggs! A new nickname! To be placed among the other greats like- El Gordo, The Amish, The Curly Headed Minion, and the others!

It sounds like a skin condition.

Work Friend: Like scabies.

Hope: And ring worm.

Work Friend : Heh heh heh

Hope: Shiggs is a ring shaped fungus.

Work Friend: I think it is caused by a small bug that burrows under the skin…

Hope: Hmmm that might be more accurate. The pearls that the bug leaves behind as it's eating your dead skin cells causes extreme irritation and itching and comes with a nasty rash that almost always shows up on one's face.

Work Friend: It also causes the infected to lose control of their facial muscles. They develop uncontrollable facial tics and experience spontaneous nose crinkling.

Hope: Which can be abated slightly by wearing a scarf tied tightly around the neck, cutting off some blood circulation and therefore making the tics less severe.

Work Friend: Yes. Another common side-effect is a that the infected develops a predilection for auto-erotic asphyxiation. On account of the developing fondness for tight neckerchiefs.

Hope: Although the increasing severity of the tics and facial rash over time if left untreated causes the patient to be less and less able to indulge in their fetish with others due to the patient's growing unattractiveness.

Work Friend: Yes. I have heard that it also causes the skin to turn fake-and-bake yam-colored and causes facial features to appear tight and pinched.

Hope: And patients that have progressed as far as the Yam Stage tend to be sexually frustrated due to the unwillingness of others to engage in their favored sexual practices with them. This results in increasing irritability and unfriendliness in the patient due to the patient's lack of prospects.

Work Friend: She looks terrible - I hear she's got the Shiggs

Hope: Gasp. I believe she DOES have the Shiggs. And a very advanced stage I would guess, judging by the Yam Colored skin and the propensity for running people over with her car- which indicates the increased irritability commonly associated with the Yam Stage.

Work Friend: It truly is a devastating disease. We need your support. For just pennies a day we could * Cure* Shiggs. Please – make a donation today! With your help we can see an end to yam-faced, pearl-encrusted, neckerchief-wearing auto-eroticism enthusiasm associated with Shiggs in our life-time .

Hope: We need to raise Shiggs awareness in our society! There needs to be a Shiggs ribbon to put on cars. We should have a walk-a-thon.

Work Friend: Definitely a walk-a-thon. A phone-a-thon, like for Jerry's kids would be excellent! That is a cause that I can get behind 100%. We should have t-shirts and bumper stickers made – Stop Shiggs now!

Hope: Hahaha. And we could sell scarves as a fundraiser!

Work Friend: Scarves dotted with stop signs that read Shiggs instead of STOP. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Hope: We're geniuses. Why does no one realize that? Think of what we could do in marketing.

LITTLE KNOWN FACT ABOUT HOPE

I hate wet feet. HATE. WET. FEET. Unless my feet are in a swimming pool, ocean, lake, or the shower- my feet should NOT be wet. Not wet from rain, not wet in Spain, not wet from a puddle, not wet from a muddle, not wet from a spill, not wet from a kill, not wet from sweat, not wet from a pet, not wet on a plane, not wet on a train, not wet in a car, not wet in a bar. My feet should NOT BE WET.

Wet feet have the definite potential to ruin my day- even what would have otherwise been a GREAT DAY. Why? Because always in the back of my mind is "Ew my feet feel gross". No matter what wonderful things happen that day...the refrain of "Ew my feet feel gross" is plastered across those wonderful events like a water mark (pun intended).

So why did I decide to provide you with this worthless (and semi disgusting) information about myself TODAY? Why am I gracing your mind with the image of my nasty slimy feet sitting under my desk making me grumpy TODAY? WHY?

Because THEY ARE.

Darn these too thick- but so cute! Argyle!- socks stuffed into shoes that- although also extremely cute- have NO ventilation. (As a result I'm sure...of being made of pleather and purchased at Target, but that's beside the point). It's only 11:30 and I have 5 more hours of nasty slimy feeling feet under the desk. It is NOT hot in my office. There should not be sweat ANYWHERE!

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!

WORDS I HATE AND NEVER WANT TO HEAR AGAIN: INSTALLMENT ONE

The following is a list of words I have come across a lot lately and have had quite enough of. This is just installment one because I want to break it up into categories as not to overwhelm. Installment one deals with vocabulary relating to children. Now, its no secret that I don't really LIKE children (I think they're cute from a far. From VERY a far) so, perhaps I'm biased, but I know that I'm not alone in a few of these...even among those who have spawn of their own.

Baby Bump - Seriously? Could we PLEASE stop hearing this word? The celeb "Bump Watch" is making me want to vomit. (Sometimes...people just have a pooch there in the lower abdomen area! It doesn't mean your preggers, cause if it did, I've been pregs for 20 years now.)

Playdate - What happened to just "we met up and our kids happened to be there" OR "our kids met up to play" OR JUST "We got together"? Why the special word? It just adds to the many words/phrases that make parents seem like they lost all normal word function once their egg hatched.

Mommy Wars - No one is EVER going to come to a consensus on who's a bad mother/good mother based on breast feeding vs. formula, working vs. staying home, etc etc etc, so lets stop with the "mommy wars." Look, if you don't lock your kids up in the basement and systematically torture them- you're doing all right. Do you feed them something? Ok then. (And could we find a less irritating phrase than "mommy wars"? No one over the age of 7 should be using the word "mommy.")

And lastly, a phrase used often within "mommy war" diatribe:

Breast is Best - It rhymes. One of the words is breast. Another of the words rhymes with breast. The only other word involved is "is". Enough said.

DE-LURKING WEEK!

Ok, I know I'm a little slow on the uptake here, but hey...its not the 12th yet, so De-Lurking Week is still goin' on!

I also don't actually think people other than my two other office slave friends actually ever READ this, but you never know. I could have lurkers out there everywhere and just not know it!!!

**claps hands excitedly*

Doubtful...but...whatever.