Found My New Happy Place Video

Now while I love thinkgeek, and these shot glasses are totally awesome, they are also expensive. So I also looked up how to make your own!

Whether you choose to buy them or make them be sure to go forth and enjoy!

All You Need to Know About Me You Clearly Learned In the Captions of My Profile Pictures

I am a girl.  I have like breasts and stuff.  I am also cute/attractive/pretty/adorable/sexy/stunning/gorgeous/pulchritudinous or whatever adjective synonymous with beautiful you happened to look up in your thesaurus.  Start a conversation on a dating site with one of these things and you will be met with a response of “I know.  And if I didn’t before I joined the on-line dating community, than I certainly do now.”  Was I expected to say thank you?  Well shit, I guess I fucked that one up.  Look, guys, if you want a girl to be genuinely interested in you, say something that proves you actually read my profile as opposed to just looked at my pictures.  Of course I look attractive in my pictures.  It’s the internet, and I’m supposed to.  But you haven’t even met me in real life.  I could be hideous.  I could be covered in scales.  How would you ever know?

Tonight I updated my dating profile, which of course means more people looking at it, and because it is late it means more people IMing me all saying the same damn thing.

As backwards as it sounds, when it comes to the internet, girls don’t want to hear how cute they are.  And we certainly don’t want to hear it multiple times a day.  If you haven’t already, read this article and learn how to stop insulting girls by telling them how pretty they are and make them actually want to talk to you.

If I Had Op Status in Life Blizzard Would Be My Insurance Company

When my WoW account was hacked into, Blizzard replaced everything that very same day.  Authenticators aren’t enough to keep people out of your shit, and neither are windows and a trunk lock.  Long story short, this weekend someone broke into my car and ran off with my computer. 

Was it my fault that I left my computer in the car?  Absolutely.  That didn’t make it suck any less.  If I had op status in life like I do in Minecraft, I could simply /give hlynn0 <whatever the number is for a laptop, pen tablet and all of my software>.  But I don’t and Blizzard doesn’t run my insurance company either.

Life isn’t like Minecraft at all.  You don’t respawn when you die and get to run and find all your shit.   You just die.  And when you ask the server god if you can please have some of it back, he laughs at you, if he answers at all.  No, life is more like Net Hack.  When you die you start over.  Completely.  Everything is randomized again.  When you drop your crap in the wrong place, the shop keeper picks it up and won’t give it back to you.  Sometimes, just when you’ve restarted, you do something ridiculous like falling off your horse because you’re an idiot who can’t put their foot in the stirrup properly, and it is because of this stupidity that you start the whole damn game over.  Thanks be to Alanis-God that I didn’t die falling off a horse.  I just stepped away from some dropped items and now have to pay the shopkeeper to get them back.

I’m not upset about losing my computer.  Most of the important stuff was backed up. What’s really upsetting about it is the hours spent scouring the internet for kitten picture that I’ll never get back.  I never did get around to backing up the “Work-Totally-Sucks-Today Folder of Happiness” aptly named “KITTEHS.”  And when my new “Giant-Ass Laptop of Badassery” arrives next week, most of a day will be spent downloading, reinstalling, and updating WoW before I can even check on how this weeks auctions went. 

Alright, so my priorities in life aren’t totally in order, but I’m ok with that. They don’t have to be because the repsonsible priorities are taken care of.  They are the easy shit that has been backed up on external hard drives and servers.  And I don’t have to think about them if I don’t want to.  I can deal with taking the time to transfer everything onto my new computer, because it’s boring and I don’t want to get around to using it any faster than I have to. 

But waiting for the fun?  Man that’s going to be arduous.

The Internet Makes You Look Stupid. How Not to Hit on Girls.

Seriously.  The internet also makes you creepy.  To girls that is.  Being newly single I have spent more than my fair share of time on internet dating sites lately and frankly it’s just depressing.  Below I have provided examples of things that weird women the fuck out when you send them or just make you seem creepy/desperate.  For actual, professional advice on what never to say during first message read this article by okcupid Exactly What to Say in a First Message. Otherwise, enjoy my frustration.

Men on dating sites, please stop sending me gems like these:

“Hi, My name is Dan, I’m currently liveing in Bellingham, but I do quite a bit of traveling for mountain sports , I am feeling pretty lonely and I want to meet people. I won’t lie – I am a very sexual person (that is I have a lot of sexual energy – but I have’nt had all that many partners mostly due to my traveling) I’m not a weirdo, or crazy or anything like that. I know talking about sexual energy on an introduction email is a little off – but I just want to be upfront. I would luv to take you out to dinner and or a movie sometime soon? about me – I’m 28, 6’4”, 190lbs, long brown hair, creative, athletic, I have my own labor buisness, and I love the mountains, particularly backcountry skiing, check out my “ski resume” http://www.lots of pictures of me doing stuff. I love life, but find I have this sexual frustration that is really draging me down and muddleing my full potential with anxiety. I hope you are haveing a great summer! Let’s go out to a resturaunt sometime soon!

Dan

(email and phone number)”

Thank you for telling me you are desperate and horney and really only interested in getting laid. I understand that life is a bitch when sex isn’t on the table.  You should have asked me to dinner and not told me about your sexual frustrations.  Your lack of tact is most likely to blame.

And then of course there are the ones that you have no idea how to respond to (thank goodness on the internet you don’t ever have to):

“Dam Miss lady.. lol.. you got all the qualities of a women you a keeper…. lol…. And let me say that your beauty reminds me of diamond, Its strong and keeps its beauty for years…. ;-).. I’ll make sure your shining like your beautiful smile, and intrigued like a good book trust that Luv… ;-)”

I don’t even know what this means.  Apparently I am a woman and this is somehow hilarious?  Also, my smile isn’t all that shiny.  I’m afraid of the dentist and haven’t been in years.

This is probably the weirdest message I have ever received on a dating site.  And trust me, there have been some real gems:

“You won’t believe this

Last night, the ghost of Lovelife Future appeared to me, punched me in the crotch (I assume to keep me from resisting), grabbed me by the right ankle and spirited me away to what he claimed to be my future if I didn’t contact you. He was very specific that it was the ridiculously toothsome (it means beautiful, not full of teeth) woman with the screen name ohsoswell that I must contact to ensure a happy future. A happy future, not only for me, but for the entire world. So you see how pertinent it is that we fall in love. Surely you don’t wish misery and suffering on the human and animal, and plant population of Earth, right? It would be down right malevolent of us to not embrace the, likely perilous, path fortuitously unveiled by the ghost of Lovelife Future. So, please let us get to know each other and fall in love, and not forsake the world.Hope you enjoyed that,
John

followed less than an hour later by…

Please allow me to amend that e-mail with this one:
And frankly, you should be ashamed. I mean to think you could get away with such an egregious act… You probably don’t feel even the slightest bit of remorse. Because of your actions, close to 4,000 innocent (well I’m sure some of them weren’t so innocent) people will forever grow baby-blue pubic hair. And then there’s the hundreds who permanently have green nipples. Do you know how time consuming it is to apply make up on one’s nipples to have
them appear even close to their original color? I don’t either, but I’m sure it’s a major inconvenience. Don’t get me started on what you did to all the poor puppies. Or the baby koalas. Or the baby pandas. Oh it pains me to even think about. I don’t know if I can hold back my welling tears to discuss your transgressions any further, but… But you know what you’ve done! Oh the humanity (and caninity, and koality, and pandity) of it all. Shame on you maddam, shame on you! I can only hope that you come own up to your insidious actions and do everything in your power to ameliorate your victims.Oh, also, you are absurdly
beautiful.”

Also, ohsoswell is not my screen name.

And my day just wouldn’t be complete without a little something like this:

“i got some nuts for you… chin nuts You want dez nuts?”

No.

Forgive Me, I May or May Not Have Digested an Excess of Wine

Dear Readers I am drunk.

I am drunk and watching Buffy.  Earlier I was playing WoW as well but then I thought about how awesome it would be to share with you all my drunken ramblings (mostly this is because my boyfriend’s phone died and he is having a bad day.  Also, I haven’t spoken to you in awhile and I feel kind of flaky about it.)

But seriously.  I live with my parents and I am PMSing hardcore.  That means I must hide my wine in the basement, drink it out of an awesome mug, and give my friend really honest and awkward advice having to do with borg.

fuck I am nerdy.

Also that made no sense….And my face might feel numb.  I think I need to eat some honey nut cheerios.

Girls are Idiots

I know, I know, not exactly news but I had to get it out.  You see, last week I was on a business trip and with 5 hours on a plane to look forward to, the inevitable happened.  I wandered into a magazine store.  I’m sure you can guess what happened next.  I tried not to buy it, I really did, but Mila Kunis was looking at me so seductively and wearing a pretty dress, right next to the headline “BAD GIRL SEX.”  And it was just so similar to last month’s cover story about “Badass moves” that I just couldn’t resist!

It seems that Cosmopolitan took my advice and admitted they’d run out of ideas! Ok, so they didn’t admit it specifically, but they did ask their readers what the most daring things they’d tried in the bedroom were.  Boyfriends can breathe a sigh of relief because, aside from the girl who lubed up her pearl necklace, their girlfriends are blessedly un-inventive.  Of course what this means is that I had to read 2 pages of “75 very naughty moves to try on a man that are exactly the same just worded differently.”  But I can live with that because, as everyone knows, it takes 1000 positive to cancel out a negative, and Cosmo has printed a lot of negative.  Sadly, this article couldn’t resist throwing in some of the stupidest advice any girl could give another (but it is Cosmopolitan, so of course a sex article isn’t complete without including one trick that is guaranteed to piss off your man).

Look girls, please don’t ever, and I mean ever get up off your man to pretend you need a glass of water, or that you forgot something important, or anything at all when he has finally managed to get his penis an inch inside of you.  It is not cute, or coy, or teasing.  It’s just fucking mean.  You think it’s funny that you’ve gotten him riled up, and you are going to keep doing it over, and over, and over again, because you noticed the sex was so much more intense that time.  Please don’t mistake this as meaning  he’s been waiting in anticipation during the minute you were away running water into the sink and not drinking anything. You imagine him anticipating your return, he’s going to be all over you when you get back and you can’t wait!  You love when he’s rough with you!  Later you’ll call your friends and tell them how clever you were!  Getting off him right at the perfect moment makes him want you so bad it’s amazing, you’ll tell them!  No.  No it isn’t.  It’s awful.  He is frustrated as hell right now and he is hate fucking you.  That’s right, hate fucking.  And if you do it enough times, he’s not going to want to have sex with you anymore.  So stop it.

The rest of the girls had it right.  They know that teasing your man is wrong.  You lower yourself onto him slowly and then let him go for it or you take your panties off, lean over the arm of the couch, and call him into the living room.

Sadly these women still read Cosmo.  I know because they wrote in their suggestions and that means that they are still going to do stupid things like try to style their boyfriends hair for them in the mornings.  They are going to read the article on drinking water before meals helping you not to eat so much and think that it’s news. Look, ladies, if your boyfriend’s hair isn’t perfect every day you should be thankful.  Not spending the same kind of time on his hair as you do means you will never have to question his sexuality or if you are dating Pauly D.  And, despite the cover telling you this “water sipping trick” is “new,” it isn’t.

Drink water, lay off the fancy combs, the sculpting gel and the blow dryer where your man’s hair is concerned, bend over the couch once in a while.  Or, better yet, learn from my mistakes.  Don’t be an idiot.  Don’t read Cosmo.

Here, Have Something Hilarious In Exchange for My Total Lack of Productivity

Sorry I have been AFK for so long.  Holidays and work have kept me ultra busy.

To make up for it, at least until next week when I can have an actual post, have this video by Brett Erlich from Infomania.  And try not to piss yourself laughing…

Dear Cosmo- Just Addmit You’ve Run Out of Ideas Our Boyfriends Will Thank You

Cosmopolitan is one of my guilty pleasures.  Every month I see it sitting by the register tempting me with cover stories like “60 SEX TIPS!  These badass moves are the same ones as last month but this time you do them with no hands!”   How could I possibly resist?  Luckily my guilty pleasure involves laughing at women being idiots and not actually as means to help find the best hammer pants for my body type or learn “creative” bedroom techniques.  I’m pretty sure if that were the case my boyfriend would break up with me.

I mean sure, when you are 19, massaging your boyfriends nipples with your toes seems like a good idea, and he’ll probably even let you try it.  But by the time you’ve reached my age you know that kicking your boyfriend in the chest (because the way you have to contort to even make this possible gives you very little control over your appendages) is not sexy.  It just feels weird.  And his tongue is probably throbbing from biting it when you accidentally got him in the chin.

This month cosmopolitan has also written a revealing article on why your boyfriend never asks to be submitted to things like bobby pin nipple clamps, pouring pepper under his nose, and blush brushing his package.  In case you were wondering it has nothing to do with him not wanting to be assaulted.  Nope.  According to cosmo, when it comes to the bedroom, men are just plain boring.  But don’t worry!  There’s hope!  How do you get him to want to try things like rubbing your chin on his chest and sticking his dick in your armpit?  Send him a sexy text at work telling him all the details of the dream you had about it!  He won’t be able to stop thinking about it.   By the time he gets home he’ll be begging you to rub your lubed up inner elbow on his thighs and snap your ponytail holder on his johnson.

If  you no longer have a boyfriend because he left you for some plain jane in jeans and a t-shirt who doesn’t even wear makeup or style her hair, this month’s issue will tell you it’s because he was too intimidated by your beauty (and your brains!) and you should hold out for a guy who is ready to be your equal.  But if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it’s because she doesn’t read cosmo.

Why I Will Never Take a Road Trip With God

I used to think taking a road trip with God would be super awesome.  I’d get to ask him all of these really cool questions.  Like what he thinks about the things people do in his name and on a scale of one to ten how offensive is it really not wanting to overpopulate the planet and use birth control?

But then today I got to thinking that God is probably more like Alanis Morrisette in Dogma, and chances are she’d be sitting in the back yelling “ARE WE THERE YET?  HUH?  ARE WE THERE?  I HAVE TO PEE!”  And then she’d remember that I’m on birth control, and we are nowhere near a rest stop and, since she has a reputation to uphold, she would yell “SMITE!” and slowly start killing me from the inside.  Which is what is probably happening right now.

I used to like the idea of Alanis-god.  One of the girls and somewhat spacey, trying to stand on her head.  But not lately.

It seems god has decided that my biological clock is ticking and, because this is something I happily ignore, it needs to be brought to my attention.   Like a 5year old in the backseat of the car, Alanis-god is yelling at me “ARE YOU PREGNANT YET? HUH? ARE YOU? No? Ok just checking…WHAT ABOUT NOW?”  Except instead of checking in once a month, she has decided that random intervals seem much more appropriate.  And because I am on birth control, and there is no rest stop for miles, singing ‘this is the song that never ends’ has turned into excruciating pain and inexplicable mood swings.

Back when everyone else was just hitting puberty, I used to pray for boobs.  Now I wish I’d prayed for a penis.  But I doubt god would have given me one of those either.

I Have Seen My Death and it Most Definitly Involves Snow and/or Driving With My Mother

Today all of the snow is finally gone.  I never thought I would be so happy to hear that it’s supposed to rain forever, but at least in the rain I don’t have to worry as much about dying a horrible death. 

Unless it’s in a downpour, which might be scarier than snow. Or fog.  Fog is the devil and, if you’ve ever seen Stephen King’s “the Mist,” you know there are giant alien spiders from another dimension hiding in it that are coming to eat you/lay eggs in your face.  Gross.  And yet another reason for me to be paranoid about spiders.

But I digress…

The point is that last week was terrifying.  It was a panic filled adventure through all sorts of weather and I am proud to say that I only cried twice.  Probably.

Snow driving is my least favorite thing about winter in Washington.  If I lived somewhere flat I would, most likely, be less afraid of it.  But I don’t and I’m not, so I had to make do with rocking myself in the passenger seat while someone else drove for me.  It was working out fairly well until I ran out of green paint.

Every winter I paint the windows at work for Christmas.  The day before I’m scheduled to do so, I check my paint supplies and make sure I have everything I need.  This year however, snow kept me away and when it came time to break out the green…it was empty.  I had to make a choice: a) not use green, or b) find someone to drive me to the store.  Obviously green is an integral part of any Christmas theme window, so I was stuck with snow driving.

I begged my dad to take me, but he said he was far too busy.  Instead I would have to ask the last person I would ever want to drive anywhere with: my mother.

My mother is from California.  If you’ve ever been to California, or driven with someone from there, you understand what I mean when I say that she is the scariest driver ever.  Most people, having played passenger once, will do anything to get out of riding with her ever again.  But don’t ever bring it up.  She will go to her grave swearing that there would be plenty of stopping distance between us and the car in front of her if they would learn to speed up. 

And so to the store we went.  Me, with my feet firmly planted on the dashboard and a death grip on the panic handle, and  My mother, maintaining her usual stopping distance, asking me why I always have to make everything so dramatic.  Even after we almost crashed into the car in front of us, narrowly avoiding doing so by driving over the median and into oncoming traffic. 

“OMG mom, you almost crashed us!”

“Yeah, well, NO ONE WAS COMING.  We’re fine.  SHEESH!  I am an EXCELLENT driver.”

“If you would have left enough stopping distance we wouldn’t be on the wrong side of the road right now!”

“It’s not my fault!  They should have been going faster!”

Next time I’m skipping the green and doing a “winter” theme.