What We All Need Less Of In 2012…In My Opinion

Let’s start with less of these things in 2012:

– The never-ending black hole of celebrity news and the convoluted media.

– Reality show personalities getting rich for being train wrecks.

I do not want to-be-all-up-in any celebrities personal business. And no one else should want to be either. I don’t give a bleep if Justin Bieber fathered a child. I don’t give a bleep if he cheated on his girlfriend, and I definitely don’t care what they did on a date night. I’m sure he is a swell human being, but all that needs discussing is his music, not where the hell he took his girlfriend for dinner. I don’t care about Kim Kardashian’s wedding nor do I give a flying crap about her divorce a few months later. Why the world feels this is such a priority it must be announced every 2 minutes in the media, and gets air time on news tickers is beyond my comprehension. Some celebrity news is fine to a degree, but the subjects being reported on and the amount of time spent on such reports have gotten out of hand. Way, way out of hand.

If an alien race looked down upon the earth from space and studied us they would believe us to be the easiest mind controlled sheep in existence, and they might be right. The media have led us to believe we must know every single move a person in the spot light makes. It also pushes upon us that they are more important than anything else on God’s green earth and may in fact be Gods themselves.

Another thing that would make the world a better place, is if we could cut back on the amount of people getting ridiculously rich off of being train wrecks. For example: The cast of Jersey Shore. Let me add I have watched this show, and I have even caught a few episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, but shit has gone beyond a place it should have never been allowed to go. Not only does the Jersey Shore cast get paid an unreal, underserved, amount of money per episode, but then most of them come out with these crap products. They’ve “written” books, (put their names on a cover of a book) have spray tanning, lotions, beauty products, slippers, all attached with their names. And some of you out there have the audacity to purchase these items and allow them to continue to laugh their butts off all the way to the bank.

This irks the bleep out of me, when people with real talent are trying to make things happen, and when I think about hard-working bastards just trying to provide for their families, and these douchebags (who might actually be very lovely people in “real” life) come along taking advantage and manipulating society into allowing them to make a living acting like idiots, getting drunk, and fighting on television.

Look, all the reality shows full of nonsense can last forever for all I care. I watch some of them, but that doesn’t mean they should get paid enough to buy an island. They also shouldn’t be worshiped like they have done something that actually matters.

As far as celebrity news, I know it’s not a new subject but It seems to be getting worse. We do not need every detail of someone else’s life. Complete loss of privacy should not be what a celebrity is signing up for. It should not be part of the job. We don’t need to be up in their marriages, divorces, births, etc. I especially think the media needs to stay out of their kids faces. The only entertainment news that is required should focus on movies, television, and music that a celebrity is involved with. For the love of God please stop telling me what someone is saying, wearing, eating, purchasing, who they stood next to, and who they are rumored to have slept with every five seconds.

Sometimes too much media coverage on a celebrity has turned me off from their work that I had previously enjoyed. The media kept violating my mind with his quotes and actions and have now ruined my viewing of his movies.

When all is said and done I know the media coverage of celebrities and “celebrities” will not lessen. The public demand for it will most likely never waver. It makes us feel closer to who we view as “awesome” people and maybe makes us feel a little awesomer. But the public needs to realize we’re all awesome in our own right and don’t need a reply on twitter from Snooki to be important.

P.S. I wrote this while watching a Jersey Shore marathon…haha.

Spam In A Can: A Love Story

Many people have yet to try the godsend of Spam in a can. Just the mere mention of the word Spam to some people will bring on an over exaggerated mimicking of vomiting. To these people I say, don’t knock it ’till you try it, and as much as I don’t understand it, a few people just happen to not care for processed meats in general like hot dogs, and bologna.

Except for Philippine and Hawaiian cultures, who inhale the stuff because it has been integrated into their world for one reason or another, a lot of people feel this processed block of nitrates is beneath them. But a lot of those same people (from my experience) will shove a hot dog down their throat like a competitive eater. As a matter of fact if you compare the ingredients on some hot dog packages to a can of Spam the canned meat wins. Now if you compare with an expensive uppity brand of hot dogs, it won’t fair as well. A cheaper dog has up to 15 different ingredients, 2 of which make me look like an idiot in front of my 8-year-old. I have to sit here and sound them out like an illiterate trying to read for the first time. Spam on the other hand says: Pork w/ ham, salt, water, modified potato starch, sugar, and sodium nitrite.

So when you have to pinch pennies maybe hide the fact it’s Spam from your picky family. Maybe fry it up, stick in between a hamburger bun, with a load of condiments (like the picture above, doesn’t it look pretty), and perhaps they won’t ask any pesky questions like, “What the hell is this!”

When I was a kid we were quite financially handicapped for a while, so when I saw that gold or silver sheen followed by a dark blue rectangle come out of a brown paper back, (hell, I was just happy to see a brown paper bag, because that meant someone went to the grocery store) I thought it must be freakin’ Christmas! I’ll never forget the actual thought that flashed through my head as a little girl, we are going to eat sooo good tonight! I couldn’t wait for my mom to unroll the metal top. Nowadays it’s a pussified pop top. Back in my day you had to work for that shit!

We would totally eat it “raw” too. None of that frying it up crap. I hadn’t even heard of eating it any other way until I was an adult, and didn’t really touch the stuff anymore. My mom would simply slice it up like a Christmas ham, and we made our smoke flavored, salty, moist sandwiches with lots of mayo.

Until about six months ago, I hadn’t purchased a can of Spam in my adult life, and the only reason I did (and the only reason my husband let me) is because we live in a tsunami zone on the west coast. So we try to keep a supply of food that can be used in emergencies. It went straight into our catastrophe food supply. Who knows, it might even become currency in a crazy apocalyptic situation.

Craigslist Buffoonery

Currently I’m selling a few household items on Craigslist for extra cash with the bonus of knowing I’m not attached to all of my possessions like a hoarder. This runs in the family so I like to check on myself from time to time. I’m good. Anyways, even when I’m not using it as an internet yard sale I browse through different states and cities from time to time and thought I would share some of the baffling, kinda funny shit I come across. Also, I recently caught wind of the ad that made headlines about the woman selling her husband under “free stuff” as a joke, and that is hardly the craziest thing you will find if you browse it on a regular basis.

– Wanted: Fake Girlfriend: I am seeking a fake girlfriend to attend my sister’s wedding. No pay. Free trip. Lots of free food. Here kitty, kitty…(That was word for word. This either turned out really well or really bad. For all involved. And that “here kitty, kitty” was as about as creepy as you can get.)

– Writing Gigs: Heroin Addicts: I’m interested in learning more about heroin. Seeking subjects currently addicted to the drug. Thank you. (The ad didn’t mention pay but unless there was I can’t imagine many “subjects” jumped at the chance. I am also not sure how many heroin addicts are skimming the writing gig ads. They probably should have placed the ad in a more drug addict user-friendly location. But who knows.)

– Writing Gigs: Note Writer: Seeking writer for prewritten custom suicide notes for loved ones, co-workers and Facebook. (What. Did. I. Just. Read. What the friggen’ hell! …and for Facebook. This explodes so much wrongness I can’t wrap my head around it.)

– Writing Gigs: Blog Writer Needed: Need a decent writer with a blog to interview me to help my business. I know it sounds egocentric and ridiculous, but I figure if someone writes an article about me as if people should give a shit, then maybe they will. Just trying to think outside the box, like all the business gurus preach. Contact me if you’re up for it. (Good for him or her. Nothing wrong with thinking way outside the box.)

– Writing Gigs: Free Story Idea: This story is about an extraterrestrial visitor- The main character of the movie Starman (1984), his Mother. She comes to Earth looking for her grandson and the magic orbs. I have worked on this story for many many years. And given up on it, equally as long. I am happy to give it freely. In the back of my mind, I always had a hunch, I would be giving it away, if someone was interested. If you are, feel free to contact me at the email above. All the best. (This is odd on many levels and yet my heart breaks for this person.)

When it comes to innocently trying to sell items on Craigslist it is asking for the buffoonery to be a part of your daily life. I foolishly thought how simple it would be. List items and wait for people in my area to contact me. Well no, it doesn’t work that way. What actually happens is if you wish to be contacted through email you will receive a massive flood of scam emails. Now if the first contact email was a clear scam I wouldn’t have been as irritated. But they mostly sound like a real legitimate person interested in your item. You know, by saying something like, “Hello, I am interested in your item. When can I come by and take a look?” I send off a reply and then I get back this junk.

– Hello, I really wanted your item but my son just crashed my car. Thank God he is okay. But now my car has a huge dent that I have to pay for. I have plenty of money but after this I don’t know. In fact I made all of my extra cash with tips at this website”____” You should check it out. My sister is even doing great with these tips. But only so many people can take advantage of this so please don’t tell anyone about it.

I received about fifty of these word for word. A huge waste of my time.

I did get some real buyers after weeding through all the craziness. But then unnecessary crap kept-a-comin’. Emails saying, “Hey, just call me.” Others offering me quadruple what I was asking if I would give them my paypal account information. Um, nooo. And someone felt the need to send me quotes from famous people. That’s it. Just quotes. Over and over. What. The. Fuck. Is. The. Point.

Top Things That Make Me Aggro This Week

I feel another list coming on…in no particular order

1. The wind machine the television show Xfactor annoyingly uses during almost every performance. Even on the guys for Christ sakes! You do not have the “Xfactor” just because you can tolerate artificial wind in your face. It’s not the contestants fault but the peeps in charge should know better.

2. Teenagers who fuck around at the little kids park in town and can’t watch their fuckin’ mouths. Have some respect.

3. This sleepy feeling that haunts me all day whenever the time changes.

4. Running into the same people everyday who piss me off.

5. Kim Kardashian and every other Kardashian.

6. Potato pancakes. Saw a guy make some on a cooking segment during the local news – super gag.

7. Raging douchebags who feel the need to make idiotic, ignorant, unnecessary ass comments.

8. Low budget commercials that throw a baby in the mix. Just saw an RV commercial with a baby that wasn’t securely propped up. It was bobble heading around with white sunglasses and they gave it a 5o year old smokers voice. How does this sell RV’s?

11 Ways To Tell If A Social Networking Site Has Turned You Bat Shit Crazy…In My Opinion

1. If you forgot to feed your kids, husband, dogs and yourself, while checking what everyone on your “friends” list is doing.

2. If you forgot you even have kids, a husband, and dogs.

3. When you write an update on your wall of the site and get a finger cramp from hitting refresh, waiting for someone to comment on your post and if no one does, you feel rejected by the world.

4. If you’ve sent a friend request and sit obsessively hitting refresh. Remember, as crazy as it sounds not everyone checks in to a social networking site everyday.

5. Getting upset when someone you last spoke to in the 3rd grade doesn’t accept your friend request.

6. When a person deletes their account or some foul beast has the nerve to unfriend you all that goes through your mind is, “Goddammit, now my friend list is smaller!”

7. If you actually think the number of “friends” in your friend list is significant in someway and validates you as a “liked” person.

8. If you post 10,782 pictures of yourself every week, from every angle, (bent over angle included) because someone once told you that you were pretty. Now you very well may be pretty but this is annoying and the quickest way to get yourself one less social networking “friend.” Especially those god awful in the mirror pictures, along with the half of your face pictures. They seem like you’re trying to cover a deformity.

9. If you post a picture of yourself everyday from the same angle, with the same expression, same everything! (Just stop it!)

10. If you play every and I mean EVERY (I once got a request from the same person in 48 hours to play 10 different games.) mind numbing, life wasting game the social site offers. The Farmville, Cafeville, Whatthefuckville will give you brain rot. Even worse do not try to drag unsuspecting “friends” into this pointless, boring, ridiculous type of escapism. I do not advocate this in any way, honestly booting black tar heroin would be more productive.

11. If in place of a phone call, sending a birthday card, or face to face happy birthdays, you post a happy birthday on the social networking page of someone who has been a real friend of yours since the two of you were infants. And you actually feel done and accomplished. No – this is not okay. Admittedly, I am even guilty of this. It must stop. Shame on me and anyone else who has committed this crime against friendship.

Die Spiders! Just Die!

As far as I’m concerned all spiders can be wiped from the planet. Maybe you can argue the insect population would be out of control blah, blah, blah and then I would just bitch about that. At the moment I am literally at war with these sons of bitches!

Even before I moved to the Oregon coast every home I lived in had its fair share of spider ninjas invading my space out of nowhere. But in the home I currently reside in they are a daily pain in my ass. Not only in the home but inside and outside of my car as well. In almost two months time I’ve gone through countless cans of Raid and used up more paper towels and toilet paper on their demise then on anything else.

Orb Weaving little bitches continue to create webs spanning half of our side door. Black widows love to throw surprise parties in the bathroom and above doorways. Unidentified creepers that look like they could give a nasty bite make themselves at home here, there, and everywhere! I’m sure somewhere spider lovers exist but I am not one of them. I just want them all to die. Tragically.

When we moved in it didn’t appear that the person who lived here before us ever destroyed any webs outside of the house. I have become obsessed with destroying them. These evil eight legged demons have even made webs all over the front yard in the grass. Personally, I’ve never seen that before.

A spider can ruin my whole damn day. If I’m relaxing on the couch watching television and an eight legged bitch comes running across my lap, whether I’ve killed it or not, I cannot continue to sit and relax on the couch for the rest of the day. Twenty-four hours after being violated I will be able to return to the spot and relax. Is that crazy? Maybe, but I don’t give a shit.

It doesn’t help that directly behind this house is a hill and a ton of shrubbery. And I mean directly, like the backyard is mainly the hill with its shrubbery spider haven.

When I first sprayed Raid as high as I could reach outside the back of the house it was a waterfall of spiders. I was disgusted. As soon as we can afford an exterminator I’m definitely giving them a ring. It’s not bad enough to be on the television show “Infested” but it’s bad enough that a chunk of my day is spent being really pissed off at these creepy, venomous, conniving little assholes.

Thanks For the Ride and the Awkward

When I was 18 I was an office assistant at a carpet warehouse in Oakland, Ca. I was right out of highschool and it was my third job experience. I didn’t have a car so I was an AC Transit bus expert and walked everywhere that distance allowed.

This job, however, I didn’t have to do either. Another person in the office, who told me about the job, happened to live across the street from a best friend I went to highschool with. And I lived a short distance from them, so she offered to be my transportation. It was perfect.

A day came when she had to leave work early because of a personal emergency. Another assistant, Lisa, in her early 30’s, lived in the same city as us so she asked her to give me a ride home. With a big smile, Lisa expressed it was no problem.

I’ll never forget what happened during that car ride.

The conversation went as follows:

Lisa: Hey Leah, you know it would be beneficial for everyone if you would get your own car.

Me: (Pause for being thrown off guard) I would love to have my own car, but it’s not a possibility right now.

Lisa: The thing is, Rosie has her own life. She has a husband and kids and she doesn’t need…this burden. I mean she’s using her gas to give you a ride. And I have a family as well, now I’m using my gas.

( What. The. Hell. Has this woman ever heard of carpooling!? Besides, I lived 2 minutes from Rosie, and 5 minutes from her. I also never asked Rosie to be my transportation, it was offered to me.)

(Sidenote: I was first hired on a temporary basis to do Lisa’s job while she went on a leave of absence. I did so well they kept me. She didn’t like that. She even went so far as to ask the manager of the office why was I still there. She was politely told it was none of her business.)

Me: Well, I do fill her gas tank at the end of every week. I offered that as part of our deal, because I wouldn’t let her give me a ride otherwise.

Lisa: Oh.

(Brief silence)

Lisa: When I was your age, my parents bought me this beautiful white mustang. There’s nothing wrong with parents buying their kids first car. You should talk to your parents about getting you a car. What parents wouldn’t?

Me: You know what, to be honest with you, I’m making the payments on my parents car, so I don’t think that will happen any time soon. So, like I said, getting my own car isn’t possible right now.

Lisa: Oh.

(Silence for what’s left of the car ride)

Me: (Getting out of the car) Thank you, see you tomorrow.

That 20 minute car ride is in my top 10 most uncomfortable moments.

P.S. (3 years later I bought my own car and I no longer worked there)

My Heinous Guilty Pleasure: Reality Shows

In the 90’s I started watching The Real World like so many other innocent T.V. viewers. Years later in the early 2000’s a little show called Survivor hit the air waves. Bit by bit more reality shows popped up like Big Brother and American Idol. Each show having its own niche. After the first seasons of Survivor and Big Brother the reality explosion was so severe I lost track of them. (Who knew it would go off like an atomic bomb between 2007-2011)

My regular viewing pleasure programs started to change dramatically. A few years back I took a peek at what VH1, A&E, and Bravo had to offer. I think the first what the hell am I watching moment came during an episode of Rock of Love on VH1. But I couldn’t look away. They had me. Slowly but surely almost everything I watched on T.V. was a reality show. After I was hooked to the Real Housewives series on Bravo, I knew there was no turning back.

As of 2011 who doesn’t have a reality show. It’s impossible to tune in to all the madness. I see a commercial preview for a new one every 10 seconds. Every network has one hand milking the reality cash cow. Besides watching “trashy” reality I enjoy Dual Survival, Man vs. Wild, and other how-to-survive-in-extreme-situations-that-will-never-happen-to-me shows. The Travel Network even has some entertaining and educational programs. The reality universe has something for everyone. From hog hunting to being a voyeur in the life of a celebrity.

A lot of it is viewed as pure mind numbing crap. And that’s what I love about it. The more moronic and ridiculous, the better. To zone out and watch such absurd people and actions help me to unwind. My most recent guilty pleasures have been Real Housewives of New Jersey, Real Housewives of New York, Flipping Out, Mob Wives, and yes I’m even a little hesitant to say, Jersey Shore. Within the last few days, I have found some of the housewives to be so vile, that it’s hard to watch. Yes, Housewives cast more vile than Jersey Shore…I know right?

Against his better judgement my husband has “enjoyed” a few Housewives and Jersey Shore episodes. He wishes he didn’t know who or what a Snookie was. Some people look down upon those of us who view these shows, like something must be severely wrong with us. But like anything else, who are you to judge. Yes, there are people who go crazy overboard about it. Perhaps saying things like, “Don’t talk ’bout my Snookie!” Come on, Snookie isn’t hurting from any type of comment. Snookie has a cool million in the bank she earned by poofing her hair to the sky, having a pickle habit, and being a sloppy drunk on T.V. She is just fine.

Honestly, when just about the whole cast of Jersey Shore came out with books “they wrote” I flipped through a Bible to see if there was any mention of this being a sign of the apocalypse.

Sometimes I wonder if any of these shows are subliminally changing me. I ponder this because after every episode of Mob Wives I have a strange desire to get in someones face and verbally violate them, using mother effer like a comma.

Regardless, I have no intention of cutting my one true guilty pleasure out of my life. The pleasure far outweighs the guilt. My husband still loves me and accepts my addiction. He simply asks, “Do you have shows tonight?” Knowing I’m not to be disturbed. Except for a handful of reality T.V., I’m well aware of the lunacy I’m viewing. The absolute best sideeffect of watching these things is how the characters make me even happier to be me, simply because I am not them.

Publishers Clearing House, You Are Not My Friend

The concept of Publishers Clearing House is simple enough. You receive an email or envelope through snail mail informing you that you could be the next winner of an obscene amount of money. All you have to do is transfer the “prize” stickers. Oh gosh, really?! But wait! Don’t forget as a courtesy to your new best friend, to look over and purchase something from the long list of mind manipulating products and magazines. Products and magazines your logical mind knows you can live without.

Then something takes a hold of you. Some sort of mental defect activated by the visual “Only 4 easy payments of $7.99.” The same defect that acts up during infomercials and the QVC. I use to ignore the Publishing Clearing House emails, but then I thought, what the heck. Since they clearly state “A purchase would be appreciated but is not necessary to win,” I would scroll through all the merchandise without a glance, and follow all the click requirements and submit. (Not giving it a chance to suck me in with its convienant payment plans, that still equal to overpriced your-husband-is-going-to-kill-you shit) If you haven’t made a purchase right before submitting they lay on the guilt like a starving child with the words, “Won’t you reconsider?” 😦

One day I was weak and reconsidered. It started with two magazine subscriptions. Then it was three plug-in pest controllers, that don’t work as well as promised…shocking. My latest must have is the Chef Basket. One product that combines 12 cooking steps… Yes, please! I’m interested in it as a deep frying companion. The colander use will also be helpful…I mean…I have a few of those already, but I still really need this!

Earlier today I transferred prize stickers without succumbing to the urge’s that have been passed down to me from hoarder generation to hoarder generation. F.y.i. I have never succumbed to the hoarder gene. I will admit I paused at the Country Pig Paper Towel Holder. Head of pig with a bandana, you can guess what’s at the other end, and in the middle papertowels OF YOUR CHOICE! Only 4 easy payments of $4.99. I paused because I thought my mom would like it. At least that’s the lie I’m telling myself.

Well clearly Publishers Clearing House is just another scam (drug) that helps pass the time. I’ve been eligible to win $5ooo a week untill I die for the last 6 months. I’ve been mindfucked into buying needless crap. Some idiots actually think they’ll get rich by transferring gold stickers to a designated prize area, and somewhere deep inside, I suspect I’m one of those idiots.

Go To Hell Sugar And Carbs

Once again I’m trying to eat healthy. I have tried this before but it never lasts long. The only thing I’ve stuck with is trying to include raw ginger or garlic in a meal. And by stuck with I mean it happens at least once every two weeks. Recently I have come to the conclusion that food is my crack. Yes I am comparing myself to a crack addict.
I’ve been using food as a drug probably since I was a toddler. I’m not the only one of course, Oprah taught me that. If I was upset in any way I got a cookie, or whatever sweet comfort food was nearby. A large chunk of my childhood we were on welfare, so I got a lot of grilled cheese sandwiches from the fire log size block of government cheese. It was some damn good cheese. And not just one at a time, my mother felt to make up for when we didn’t have any food, it was best to feed me two sandwiches. I thought this was normal. If I was at a friends house and we were made one sandwich, I was confused. I wanted to know where the hell my other sandwich was.
As I’ve gotten older I have tried to reprogram myself. This is no easy task. I’ll do well for awhile, but then I wake up one morning craving a sugary moist donut. I give little resistance and head for the local bakery to get my fix.
At this point in my life I feel it’s now or never. Either I make healthier choices at the age of 33 or I will never be able to reverse the damage. The epic battle with food has begun.
Oh my God! I want a thick piece of french bread lathered in butter! Mmmmmm.

P.S. Dwarf apples are adorable, and they mindfuck me into eating them with their fun unnatural apple size.

Why One Ply Why

Dear One Ply Toilet Paper,

Why do you exist? If you were not around, then you wouldn’t be an option at the store for my husband to choose from. Do you not know that you will just disintegrate. Why put either one of us through that. My husband cannot be expected to read the package of toilet paper. So please, I beg you, do the world a favor and disappear. (Just like you did when I was inhumanely forced to use you) You are not needed. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you have caused many unhappy and frustrating moments between couples.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Frequent Bathroom User

Adventures in Babysitting

I’ve been babysitting a 9 year old boy as a favor for my husband’s co-worker since June 7. My daughter is visiting her father’s family so this at least occupies my mind while she’s gone.
Watching Johnny is an adventure in itself. I kid you not, he was watching a program with a dancing segment and said, “That’s not a dance, I’ll show you a dance.” He then stood up and performed the macarena. Yes, the 90’s dance sensation. How this 9 year old boy even new this existed I have no idea.
Perhaps I will only babysit infants. Whaling and non verbal fits I can handle. Having the macarena forced upon me is unacceptable.
Making toast for him is a complicated ordeal. If I cut the slice into squares then it MUST have jelly on it. If I cut the slice into triangles then it MUST ONLY have butter.
I’m scared.
I took Johnny to our local park and discovered he enjoys urinating wherever he likes. I explained to him after he peed on the grass, that other kids could roll around in it and for the love of God use the park restrooms that were only 4 feet away.
I’ve tried to do the same things that make my daughter happy for Johnny. I said, “Hey would you like me to make some brownies.” Johnny replied, “Uh, what kind.” Usually I hear an excited reply of, “Yes!” This questioning was new to me. “Um, well, fudge or chocolate.” “I don’t like fudge.” He says. At this point, I’m over it. “They will just be chocolate. Do you like brownies?” I ask. After a pause he says, “I don’t know.” “Johnny, have you ever had brownies?” Looking up from the handheld video game he’s been playing he say’s, “Yeah, but I don’t know if I would like yours.” Alright, he has a point. Maybe it was just the fact of my own child not being around but him not expressing any excitement over the brownie idea deflated me. I was sad. It seems silly now as I write it out. But I obviously wanted my own child there and wanted to hear her pleasant tone. But seriously what 9 year old doesn’t like brownies. My brownies are awesome and he will never know .