I Am A Cannibal

My title is not some cheap attempt to get people to click on it (but it worked, didn’t it?), but just fair warning that, in looking back on old posts, I found some entertaining, mainly work-related things that I’d forgotten about, and I plan to re-post them on occasion. It’s my content, I can cannibalize it if I want to.

But I may have to go pretty far to the Dark Side to keep up with today’s political discourse. Republican candidates in particular have been talking about “slitting throats,” “putting heads on stakes,” etc. And this makes us better than our enemies how, exactly? Vivek Ramaswamy said he would “go unrestrained chainsaw on Day One,” and then said, of course, that he was “speaking figuratively.” These people sure are doing a lot on Day One. OK….

…If elected, I will, on Day One, figuratively tear out their guts with my bare hands! Then figuratively stomp on them! Then figuratively set them on fire! And figuratively laugh!

I don’t have to drink to write, but it helps.

COSMETIC NEWS

Trexa noted that my nail polish color was called “Wicked,” while hers was called “Ladylike.” But after wearing Wicked for Halloween, I switched to one called Forever Yummy. I don’t know why red would be any yummier than other colors. Their website describes it as “a clear tango red,” and I don’t know what that means, either. My favorite nail color is what Cosmo once derided as “passe` Dragon Lady red,” which would make a better color name than Forever Yummy. Of course, any nail color that’s not a pun gets my vote, because punning is apparently the convention for them these days.

IN OTHER NEWS

You gotta love the internet (notice that people don’t capitalize it anymore? The novelty has worn off!), which gave us an article on “Is it OK to pee in the shower? Experts weigh in.” The verdict was “pretty much OK,” and they then gave us instructions:

1. Before stepping in the shower, think about whether you need to pee or not.
2. If you forgot Step 1 and the urge strikes when you’re already in there, rate the urge from 1 to 3. If 3, go ahead and pee, by whatever method you choose. If 1 or 2, utilize deep breathing or other techniques to enable you to hold it.

Isn’t it good we have experts to tell us this? I’d never have figured it out on my own.

Speaking of which, isn’t it cute that we have euphemisms? I saw a news story about a woman who pulled down her pants on an airplane mid-flight, and, as the airline spokeswoman delicately put it, “used the bathroom.” Even though the point was that she wasn’t using the bathroom.

“Did you know that blogs that post frequently have more traffic?” WordPress asks, unnecessarily. They’ll be telling me how to pee next.

I’m Just an Old Karen With a Cobra Tattoo

…and troubled by whether to capitalize “with” or not.

I also have, for Halloween, a black top, orange pants (they called it “Russet Brown” but it looks orange to me), snake pin, spider ring (I love spiders and snakes, unlike the old song), and black nail polish (they called it dark red, but it looks black to me). Long-time readers will not be surprised to know that I didn’t have to buy anything especially for the occasion, but had these items already on hand. Long-time readers were surprised to know that this is the first time I’ve worn black nail polish. I tend to be old-fashioned and think nails should be lipstick colors like pink. red. coral, etc., not gray, green, or yellow. But anything for art!

I had no trick-or-treaters except Nick, who showed up a day late (and a dollar short? who knows?) to reassure me that he still liked me after I accidentally blocked him on my phone. (“I did not!” he objects. “I showed up because you said there’d be candy!”)

MORE ADVERTISING I OBJECT TO

There is a never-ending supply, to quote the Ramones.

“Age on your own terms.” If it were really on my own terms, I would have no wrinkles and be able to eat whatever I wanted and however much I wanted without gaining weight or indigestion. In other words, I wouldn’t age at all.

An ever-growing category–ads with fake cuss words.

“Fish yeah!”

“I put that * on everything!”

“Holy shirt!”

My objection is not the George Carlin objection, that we should stop being coy and just use the actual words, but the Old Karen objection, that we need less cussing in the world, not more.

LYRIC CRITICISM

The lyrics of Ted Nugent leave much to be desired:

“Sweet Sally, she’s a friend of mine

Sweet Sally likes it double-time

Sweet Sally likes it all the time!

Sweet Sally, she’s a friend of mine.”

This friendship seems to lack depth. Also, could this be the same Sally referenced by Eric Clapton?

“Lay down, Sally, and rest here in my arms

Don’t you know you need someone to talk to?

Lay down, Sally, and rest here in my arms

I’ve been trying all night long just to talk to you.”

If I were Sally, I’d say, “Is there any reason we can’t have this conversation sitting up?”

Accepting Correction and Admitting Defeat

CORRECTION: The new Taco John’s exterior is not, as I previously reported, red, green and black. It is red, green and white.

ADMISSION: You probably remember (sure you do! just try!) my repeated assertion that leggings are not, in fact, pants. And I once told Rom, “At this rate, wearing actual pants is going to become the mark of an old lady.” Well, the other day a bunch of old ladies got on the bus, and EVERY ONE was wearing leggings. Now these weren’t trying-too-hard-to-look-young old ladies. They were ordinary old ladies. At least they all wore long tops, so I will allow it on a technicality. So, wearing pants is not the sign of an old lady. I don’t know what it’s the sign of. A weirdo, I guess. Someone who doesn’t think the world needs to know the exact contours of my legs.

MORE STUFF I DISAPPROVE OF: An ad with a model in shiny makeup, saying, “Look Like a Cute Little Glazed Donut!” WHY?

The Ramblings of a Basement Blogger

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Photo selected because my hands look a lot like this, including the current nail polish (Rocky Rose by Essie). (They do not give me money or free nail polish for this endorsement.)

After some weeks of being galvanized into inaction, I could not help being stirred to its opposite by Trump’s communications director (who has yet to do her job and hold a press briefing) commenting that the impeachment investigation resembles “the ramblings of a basement blogger.” On behalf of all basement bloggers, I must object. Actually, I don’t have a basement. I have a crawlspace. But this is not coming to you from the crawlspace, but from my office, if you can call it that. It has as many spiderwebs as a crawlspace, though. ANYWAY, it seems to me that the people who are “rambling” are the ones who keep spouting debunked conspiracy theories, and that would be the Republicans.

VOTE FOR ME! I WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE RACE, BECAUSE I’M NOT ACTUALLY IN IT!

I WILL NEVER STOP FIGHTING THE PARTS OF SPEECH WAR

“Want to brain better? Take our supplement!” If your supplement worked, you’d realize that “brain” is not a verb.

“What happy tastes like.” HappiNESS.

In other advertising news, “Try our Christmas pancakes, covered with elf sprinkles!” makes me think that elves leave their droppings there. They’re round and red and green.

LET’S GET SERIOUS

I am mourning the loss of my beloved Briar Rose and Service Cat, Esmerelda, gone too soon from kidney disease. Black and white, introverted but intense, she had weaning issues and suckled on my hand several times a day for all of her 11 years.

She was the one who chose me at the shelter, and that’s hard to get over.

On her last day, she had catnip in the sun.

As Rom wrote in his elegy for her, she was the “harlequin companion we treasured for awhile.”

 

 

 

“Write” Prompt, My Stay in a Desperate World

Photo by Lum3n.com on Pexels.com

Well, not quite, but sort of.

I observed National Lipstick Day on July 29 with Watermelon Pink (sure, it’s just gloss, but I’M A BOOMER AND LIPSTICK INTIMIDATES ME), and I am now observing National Beer Day with, yeah, you guessed it.

Sign on side of a van: “Elevators and Escalators–We’re Dedicated to People Flow.” Said van was on the lot of the liquor store, so I’m guessing some people would be flowing soon.

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD, AGAIN

There is nothing like returning to an area you used to be intimately familiar with after a span of some years. I went back to the vicinity of my work, to do some errands at nearby businesses. I walked through that area for some 25 years on my way to work. In the 2 years since I retired, it has become Not Anyone’s Job to pull weeds out of the sidewalks in front of the houses. And the yards themselves are overgrown with weeds. It’s the first sign of civilization falling, people!

However, Wesselman’s grocery was absolutely unchanged since, oh, 1963. (Disclaimer: The writer of this post was not in this town in 1963. I was either in Chicago or L.A. Big radio markets, you understand. Or you do when your stepfather is a DJ.)  It’s kind of eerie. For one thing, they never got the memo that We Use Body Wash Now, and not a bottle of it can be found. Old-fashioned bar soap can still be had, however.

IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, AND I DON’T FEEL FINE.

I am absurdly thrilled with the gel-ink pens someone got me for my retirement party, 2 YEARS AGO. It magically makes my handwriting legible. Thanks, Unknown Person!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pink Flamingo: Lipstick Rose

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

…by Ralf Schwieger

Top notes: grapefruit, violet

Middle notes: rose, iris, raspberry

Base notes: vanilla, sandalwood, musk

For anyone who loves the smell of old-fashioned lipstick. This even has the somewhat-waxy smell that lipstick does. It starts out more floral and powdery, with a hint of fruit, ends up with more vanilla than flowers, but still lipsticky. This is such a retro scent that it’s a bit self-conscious, but it does what it sets out to do very well. It has a sense of humor–if you can imagine that in a perfume–in a modern, arch sort of way, like a pink flamingo placed on one’s lawn ironically.

What it reminds me of most is my mother, that lover of lipstick. Although I don’t know whether she’d be amused by this concept in perfume, or more bemused. (Her main comment about fragrance that I remember was, “I don’t know why all you girls wear musk oil now,” although I was not one of those girls.)

It did not take me long to form My Personal Opinion about this one:

Personality: So not-me, it might be the anti-me. This in spite of its prominent rose note.

Comfort level: It’s such a bad fit for me that I feel uncomfortable wearing it for that reason alone–it’s like clothes that don’t fit, although I do enjoy the vanillic drydown.

Preferences: I don’t dislike it, but I don’t find it compelling, either. It’s not one of those perfumes where I get all conflicted–“It isn’t me, but it smells so good!” (Creed Spring Flower comes to mind, which actually comes in a bright-pink bottle.) It’s just…OK. The very definition of…

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Final verdict: I am not the rightful wearer of Lipstick Rose.

My Resolve To Remain Unpopular

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I have been reading a site called The Art of Blogging They said that bloggers who want many readers should remember that strangers don’t care about what you had for lunch or how you tripped over a paving stone yesterday, and that even those who know you only pretend to care out of politeness. Now, I am not taking issue with this advice–it makes perfect sense. I only ask that you keep on pretending to care, because I warned you what to expect at the outset. And how did they know I tripped over a paving stone, hmm?

Rather than tell you what I had for lunch today, let me tell you about–

THE INTERESTING LITTER I SAW

–Next to me in the window well of the bus–2 Q-Tips. WITH EARWAX ON THEM. “This bus ride is boring. Think I’ll clean my ears.” Suppose the bus went into a pothole and you ended up puncturing your eardrum? You’d probably try suing the city. BECAUSE YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY NOT THE SORT TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR OWN ACTIONS, OR  YOU’D HAVE THROWN AWAY YOUR GROSS Q-TIPS. (Disclaimer: I have no way of knowing if the cotton swabs in question were actually Q-Tips. Perhaps they were some generic brand.)

–On a bus stop bench on the way (not mine, because EW EW EW)–a to-go plate of pancakes, partially eaten. IN THE RAIN. Just wring those out, they’ll be fine. They did inspire me to have pancakes at McDonald’s. (See, I worked my lunch menu in there after all.)

–In the gutter on N. St Joe Ave.–a stick of deodorant, with the cap off. “Oh no, I forgot deodorant, better put some on in the car and throw it out the window!” It was Suave Powder Fresh, so at least the offender was powder-fresh. Maybe the police could identify the culprit by scent.

And remember–VOTE FOR ME FOR PRESIDENT, I’M THE OUTSIDER! (I’m getting a head start on making you sick of me.)

 

 

Lilting & Joyous

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Note: The above is what came up when I searched photos for “booty.”

“Lilting and joyous” is how reader T.R. described goldfinches, and said “Just like you!” For the record, Rom said the bird that most resembles me is the mockingbird. That’s what I really wanted to illustrate this post with, but no luck.

DISASSEMBLING COSMO

I bought the copy of Cosmo I mentioned in the last post, and promptly forgot it on the bus. “Well, I don’t care enough to pay another $5 for another one,” I announced to Rom. Yes, I bought it the next day. Because stupid persistence had been activated.

They are having a Steamy Story contest. I could win $10,000 and a private consultation with a best-selling romance author! Imagine how surprised she’ll be when she learns I’m not in my 20’s! The rules state that the story should “have a badass heroine, take place in the present time, and have a happy-ever-after ending.” I can see the book cover now–“Bad Ass! Her ass was bad!”

But on to asses, bad or otherwise. You are now entering…BOOTY MANIA! Involving “glitter-dipped bums poppin’ on social.” Was it scratchy glitter? Other observations: “Juicy backsides refuse to quit.” “The cultural viewfinder is focused on the rear view.” “By 2014, it seemed perfectly normal for fitness stars to popularize butt selfies on Instagram.” It doesn’t seem perfectly normal to me. Of course, I’m not on Instagram. “Donks are rarely censored on social media, so they can proliferate unchecked.” How often must I say it–JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN, DOESN’T MEAN YOU SHOULD. Let your butt proliferate unchecked, that is. “Fitfluencers readily admit that butt photos get the most likes.” Fitfluencers? Really? “Today’s vast buttscape includes both smaller and fuller figures, but experts warn that striving for an ultra-ripe peach could become a harmful endeavor. Embrace your butt–without going overboard.” It’s hard to embrace your butt.

THE BEST BOOTY LOOT

Yes, there are products. Exfoliant! I have to say, I’ve never thought of exfoliating that area. Butt masks! “These are safe to wear under undies for up to an hour a day.” I want to know what’s in them that makes them unsafe to wear longer. Butt cream! “Shimmery skin and an addictive smell hook fans of this balm.” Write your own punch line. Don’t make me do it all.

OTHER COVER STORIES

“V-Time is the New Me Time. How to Give Your Lady Parts Some TLC.”

“5 Signs He’s Just Using You.” Sign #1–if he strikes up a conversation after he sees you reading about booties and lady parts in Cosmo.

“We want to hear how V-Time is the new Me Time!” you’re clamoring at this point. Well, it involves, you guessed it, products. Exfoliant! Is there anything that can’t be exfoliated? “Body and V-Zone Soap.” Um, I was already doing that. “Spray Bay Bay–support and hydrate your Queen V.” I was unaware of my royal status, but I’m all for supporting it. Oil! “Illuminates, for a happy, healthy glow below!” So now it’s glowing? Are we supposed to use it for a reading light?

MORE-TASTEFUL PRODUCT NEWS

The other day, the bus driver said, “You always smell so beautiful!” (Frederic Malle’s Portrait of a Lady, described by one Fragrantica member as “the poster child for melodramatic dark rose scents”), and sadly said she used to wear Victoria’s Secret Divine, which has been discontinued. I did a bit of research, and the next time I see her, I’m going to recommend Bulgari’s Omnia Crystalline.

NOTE: When I write perfume reviews, I always title the post accordingly, so anyone doing a search for that fragrance can find it. But I also tack on additional content after the review. So anyone who’s been skipping posts when they see it’s a perfume review (Nick stops in the midst of slinking away) may want to think twice. (“I don’t even think once,” Nick says, flicking his scaly tail.) Now I have to go dip my butt in glitter.

 

Ads & Products & Stuff, Oh My

ADVERTISING HALL OF SHAME

…award this week goes to some product (I don’t even remember it, so there!) that starts its commercial with “Are you bothered by chronic constipation?” with SHOTS OF PEOPLE SITTING ON THE TOILET.

Rom is urging me to tell on Head & Shoulders shampoo, not least because we’ve argued twice about it. The newest bottles have “#1 DERM RECO” emblazoned on them. Our disagreement was not because that’s not a stupid way of putting it–we are agreed on that score–but because he believes most people wouldn’t understand what they meant by it, and I disagree. Of course, I read women’s magazines, which routinely use “derm” for dermatologist, just like they use “gyno” for gynecologist. (And if you read these magazines, you get the idea these are the only two doctors their readers have.) Now that I think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard people actually using these terms in conversation.

Let’s just go ahead and ban this sort of thing, shall we? I haven’t issued a World Leader Edict in awhile.

BY THE POWER INVESTED IN ME, WHICH I HAD BEFORE STEPHEN COLBERT STARTED HIS FURRY-HAT ROUTINE, JUST CHECK MY ARCHIVES UNDER “WORLD LEADER PRETEND”…

Be they banned henceforth and forevermore:

–“mani,” “pedi,” and “mani/pedi”

–“vacay”

–“cardi” for cardigan

–“cami” for camisole

–“convo” for conversation

–not only “reco” for recommendation, but “recs” as well

–“deo” for deodorant

I’ll probably think of more as I go along.

–Sign on door of CVS–“Automatic Entrance. Doors Can Close Unexpectedly.” Is “Enter at your own risk” really good business practice?

–IHOP is deciding to focus on burgers? Why?

–Also, Dunkin’ Donuts deciding its name is now just “Dunkin'” is stupid.

I SUPPOSE YOU’RE WAITING FOR ME TO REVIEW THE NEW QUARTER POUNDERS

McDonald’s claims these are better than they previously were, and I agree. Keep in mind that I’ve never been a big Quarter Pounder fan, preferring the double cheeseburger or McDouble (which are not, by the way, the same thing, although the difference is just an additional slice of cheese on the double cheeseburger) (maybe you already knew that, but I had to have it explained to me). My main problem with Quarter Pounders now is that they have a more “charcoal” flavor. I never care for that–it tastes just plain burnt to me–but I know a lot of people like it.

I SOLVE A MYSTERY

For a long time, I’ve wondered how McDonald’s determines receipt numbers. Some people get, say, 398, while someone else there at the same time might get 277. But they always start with 2 or 3. I finally realized that it has to do with which register it was rung up on. #1 is never used for some reason, 2 and 3 are at the counter, so the people ordering inside always get those, and 4 is for the drive-through. I’m glad I figured that out. Wait a minute–maybe 1 is for the drive-through, and 4 is the one that’s never used. Oh well, I never have to deal with those, so they don’t affect me.

Did you know that Nick once said the military would be good for me? Of course, he said the same thing about prison.

 

Chaos Theory

SCRATCHY GLITTER IS BACK IN SESSION

…although who knows for how long. I thrive on chaos, right? OK, except for the thriving part.

NEW PRODUCT NEWS, EASTER DIVISION

Question 1: Why did we need a poop emoji? I can’t think of any communications need that was previously unfilled.

Question 2: Why do we need a plush representation of the poop emoji?

Speaking of which, why do we need a “Wind It Up and Watch It Poop Candy!” toy? Sure, children will always think poop is funny, but we don’t need to encourage them. And sure, it would be nice if people pooped candy, but I don’t care to follow this train of thought any further.

And, for those decrying the commercialization of Easter (someone must be decrying it somewhere), we have 1.) the milk chocolate cross, and 2.) the cross-shaped tin full of jellybeans, in supposedly-symbolic colors. That is just odd.

The body wash I’d have to use in hell: Olay Star Apple and Hibiscus. Smells like spiced apple rings and licorice. I would use it only if there was no other body wash available. I might even skip showering for a day, in case some other scent became available. (Nick tries to think up some bet he could make where I’d have to use up a bottle of this if I lost, then remembers that he’s not a betting man.) 

Just heard the “Experience Amazing” commercial. AMAZEMENT! IT’S EXPERIENCE “AMAZEMENT”! WHY MUST I KEEP TELLING YOU?!!