You Knew What You Signed Up For

I mean.

Seriously.

It shouldn’t surprise the zero people beside me that read this blog, dubbed “The Unmotivated Blogger”, that I haven’t posted a goddamn word in over two years. Not. One. Word. If that isn’t living up to a name, I don’t know what is.

I’ve been recently reminded of the existence of this blog after discussing my blog post for my after-hours gig as a Quizmaster at a local bar/restaurant (you jelly?). I began to remember faintly that I used to write my own posts on my own time*, and not on someone else’s (hint: “The Man”). Because FUCK deadlines.

That’s when I started to get that yearning, burning feeling, not unlike a UTI but not really like it, either. I realized that I missed this. Like, really missed this. I don’t give a shit if anyone else out there is reading this, it’s just nice to get out the weird fucking thoughts that flit about my brain and drive me and the dogs** I say shit to crazy.

The next thing I remembered was a folder I’ve had on my laptop for many moons now, simply titled “Blog Stuff”. I started this this post without having even opened that folder, because I’d like to share some of its contents and my genuine reaction to the stupid shit I’ve wasted precious RAM on for two goddamn years with you. Yes. You. Let’s see what’s inside!

NATHAN FILLION IS A GORRAM NATIONAL TREASURE.

Oooooh, yes, a strong start! Not sure what prompted me to save this gif (that’s with a hard “g”. Ladies…), but I could pretty much apply this to some situation I encounter every single fucking day. This is just…perfection. What’s next?

AAAAHHHHH!!

I…um…well.

Ladies and gents, this is my brain. NEXT!

So much truth.

I have a feeling I found this image after encountering some sort of misogynistic pigheaded bullshit. Like, I bet some dude told me to “smile” or I was otherwise made to feel like I owe the world a prim and proper, ladylike face because I happen to own a vagina. Or some rando posted it on FB and it made me snort-laugh. Could really go either way. NEEXXTT!!

…

HAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAAAAAAA OMG WUT HAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! OK, one more…

Well. That pretty much sums it up.

Yep, I think that’s a perfect image to end this post on. I was going to say “long-overdue post”, but then I thought, fuck that, this blog is not for anyone but me. IDGAF if I only end up posting once a year, or twice, or thrice, or if I end up going apeshit and posting every fucking day. In the end, this is an outlet for my brain to spew like a freshmen whenever it damn well pleases. If you happen to stumble across this and like it, even better! But just know what you’re signing up for.

* “on my own time” = four times over three years, apparently.
** Yes, dogS. As in plural. Starbuck has acquired a smaller, more-annoying younger brother named Scruffy. Yes, like the janitor. Here he is:

This is one of the few where he isn’t sleeping. He sleeps, like, a looooootttt.

Don’t call it a comeback!!

Because, seriously…have you SEEN how long it’s been since my last post?! Sweet Zombie Jesus, it’s been a fracking YEAR!!  Welp, you should have known what you were getting yourself into (I mean, seriously: “The Unmotivated Blogger” was a dead-giveaway, for realsies). But, smile! I’m back, bitches!

You tell ’em, anthropomorphic bear!

There have been many things that have occurred since my last pass around the sun, the AWESOMEST of which being that I have found a new, less-oppressive, much more amazing job! Granted, since last I wrote, I had a few jobs (updates to follow ?questionmark?), but this one is most decidedly kick-ass! The transition to this point has been crazy, weird, and several other human emotions…which I’m preeeeettty sure had at least something to do with my lack of posts (again, in a goddamn YEAR). BUT!: There are stories to tell, internet funbits to expose, and more nerdity to share, so this is my (very tentative) first of many several some at least a few (?) new posts. Hooray, lackadaisicalness!

To celebrate, there is this:

He choo-choo-chooses you to follow this blog!

*Edited to add: I am tickled that the “Delve into My Archives” lists exactly TWO months, the SAME month, over two years. Maybe I should just check in once/twice a year, every May? But keeping a schedule sounds very motivated, and I just…I just can’t…blarg.

Google Chat Theater

A lot of the weird, crazy shit I have bouncing around in my brain usually makes its way out of my mouth-hole, but a lot of it gets transmitted via my hand-bones and transcribed forever in Google Chat form. In Google Chat Theater, I will be showcasing, just for you, some of the awesome conversations I have had throughout my workday with Husboo. Spoiler: He is just as weird as me.

In this scene, Husboo and I were still living in a crappy apartment, and we really wanted to get a canoe, but seeing as we lived in a crappy apartment, we would have nowhere to put it. We open on Husboo offering up a completely sensible and totally rational solution to our nowhere-to-put-a-boat dilemma…

*******************

Husboo: lets just get a damn house.

me: lol

H: we can keep the boat in the yard like everybody else.

me: LOL nooooo!!! i don’t wanna be a hoosier! next will be the crappy birdbath, then the flamingos, and then the toilet/virgin mary statue!!

H: aww see we should have kept your car so we could put it on blocks.

me: ha! classy! ooh we could have grown weeds where the engine block should go. maybe house a bunch of racoons or something. damn, opportunity: missed.

H: oh well. we’ll just have to wait for mine to die. mines big enough we could have a pet hobo.

me: and name him hobo jones? or bobo the loco hobo? we could have a whole clan of hobos!

H: he’ll already have a name… damn, hobos are people too. you’re so mean.

me: you said a pet hobo!! i assumed we could name him if he’s going to be our pet. but if he’s our pet, we may be obligated to feed him…hmm… no deal.

H: those hobos are so needy.

me: pshh i know, right? always “feed me!”, and “give me money!” and “i miss my family!” losers.

H: you’re so going to hell.

me: i’ll save you a seat.

*******************

Aaaaaand, SCENE.

(PS – We ended up buying a house not 4 months later. And got a canoe, which just barely fits in the garage. Still no pet hobo, though.)

Karma’s Bitch

I must have been a real dick in a previous life.

That’s the only explanation I have for why Madam Karma keeps kicking me square in the ladytaint, and why I can never seem to enjoy something good in my life for 3 goddamn seconds before something equally shitty comes along to balance everything out. (Did I forget to mention this post will be less “sunshine-and-rainbows”, and more “woe-is-me-and-expletives”? Yes? Whoops, sorry!)

Approximate location of the ladytaint. Please try to ignore the monstrous bush.

This happens so often to me, on a near-daily basis, that I just have to believe that I am currently living a reincarnated life of a puppy-kicker, kitten-setter-on-fire, or baby-puncher. Perhaps as a child, I did something so heinous and despicable that not only will karma continue to dick around with me for eternity, but because it was so terribly vile, I immediately blocked it from my tiny memory and have gone about the rest of my life thinking that I’m a good person (wouldn’t that be HILARIOUS?! HA!).

For example, just today, I had to run to the store to grab something for lunch, and a random gentleman on his way out stopped and said, “That’s a very nice top!” (Sidenote: lest you think he was being skeevy and meant “Nice tits”, I am rocking a sweet set of 34A’s, so I really do think he meant “Nice shirt”…unless he’s into bitsy boobies…some guys are…ok I’m overthinking this, moving on…). I smiled, said thank you, and went about my shopping. What a nice, out-of-the-blue thing to have happen, I thought to myself, forgetting somehow momentarily that karma has never been too keen on me having any joy for any extended period of time.

And sure enough, karma decided to even out the scales not 20 minutes later. Know what that sneaky bitch did? She made me hit a fucking bird with my car. At 60mph. That poor, stupid bird didn’t stand a chance. First it tried veering left, then deeked right, then BIFF, right into my grill. What in the literal FUCK, karma?! (And, btw, what did that poor bird ever do to deserve getting plowed over?! Maybe the bird was a dick in a previous life, too. I feel you, hopefully-actually-dead-and-not-flapping-around-sadly-on-the-side-of-the-road bird. I feel you.) I drove the remaining few miles into work in stunned silence, mouth agape. Karma strikes again.

“Would you know my naaaame…If I saw you in hea-ven?”

TL;DR version: “Nice shirt!” = Dead bird. Karma: eleventy billion. Me: Zilch.

It has gotten to the point that I can no longer really enjoy the good that does come my way, like really enjoy it, because the whole time I’m wondering when karma’s gonna bitchslap my happyfuntimes and downgrade my day to shit.

This = TRUTH.

It’s a zero-sum game karma’s got going on with me. Everything good that happens always gets perfectly zeroed out soon thereafter by something just as bad:

Find a dollar on the street —> Stub toe on coffee table.

Have a lovely day out on the lake —> Come home to the WORST smelling shit on the floor, courtesy of a normally house-trained dog. (I don’t know WHAT the hell happened in her bowels, but I think she shit out Death itself.)

Get married to a great guy and have an awesome time with friends and family that you haven’t seen in years —> GET FIRED FROM JOB.

I really wish I was kidding on that last point, but that exact load of crap was dumped upon me by karma just last week. She got me again, that weasely twat, and she got me good. But more on that awesomesauce later.

Some of you may be wondering if this works the other way around, like if something bad happens, does something equally good follow? The answer to that would be: No. No it does not. Yet another way karma bends me over and has its way with me.

Now fetch me my hard hat while I make phone calls to loved ones to make sure they’re still alive: a student recently did something incredibly sweet for me (a flower for teacher appreciation week! GAH!), and it’s only a matter of time…