Tag Archives: rants

Not A Feast Fan

Unlike most Americans, I don’t like Thanksgiving. I’m not talking about the traffic and travel hassles, though those are indeed irritating, but the feast itself. I personally see no reason to stuff myself with more food than I normally eat just because it’s the fourth Thursday in November. I mean, why? To celebrate what exactly? It’s nice having a 4-day weekend of course ~ I’ll celebrate that, if I don’t have to travel anywhere or overeat.

I also don’t like buffets and potlucks much for similar reasons. It’s really hard not to overeat, whatever your intentions. Part of that is because you don’t have standard servings of a couple things, but several tiny dollops, so it appears you’re taking only little bits of this and that, but you end up with more and more. Plus dishes at these events generally aren’t as tasty as a single item off the menu, so paradoxically you tend to try more of them, hoping in vain to be satisfied. (This can be a useful analogy for other things.)

Of course I understand my anti-feasting position sounds incredibly crabby, but it’s actually very logical. Many people have an emotional reaction to the mention of holidays because of family and traditions yada blah, but it’s really okay to question the things we’ve always done, and their specifics, and ask why we do them and if they are, in fact, a good thing. Well, I’ve always thought it was okay anyway. I have my own way of doing things.

I like to lead the examined life… I like to put the magnifying glass so close to the blade of grass I don’t even know wtf I’m looking at any longer.

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Song Lyrics Sunday: Picture

First, a bit of a rant. Why is YouTube soooo annoying? Used to be that you searched for a song and the first few hits were that song live, then a few studio versions, then some covers mixed in with people doing funny or cute vids to the music. Obviously I liked the last group the best. Sometimes I found really great videos. But now? First it’s the official version (live and studio), fine, and then you get bunches of idiots doing karaoke. Wtf? The world does not want to hear your amateur warbling. What happened to funny animated vids peeps used to do, or even psychedelic stuff with fractals and cool things? Or cute animals? Grrrr.

Anyway. For this week’s theme of picture, I love this duet written and recorded by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow in 2001.

Picture

Living my life in a slow hell
Different girl every night at the hotel
I ain’t seen the sunshine in three damn days
Been fueling up on cocaine and whisky
Wish I had a good girl to miss me
Oh Lord I wonder if I’ll ever change my ways

I put your picture away
Sat down and cried today
I can’t look at you
While I’m lying next to her
I put your picture away
Sat down and cried today
I can’t look at you while I’m lying next to her

I called you last night in the hotel
Everyone knows but they won’t tell
But their half-hearted smiles tell me something just ain’t right
I’ve been waiting on you for a long time
Fueling up on heartaches and cheap wine
I ain’t heard from you in three damn nights

I put your picture away
I wonder where you’ve been
I can’t look at you while I’m lyin’ next to him
I put your picture away
I wonder where you’ve been
I can’t look at you while I’m lyin’ next to him

I saw ya yesterday with an old friend
It was the same old same how have you been
Since you’ve been gone my world’s been dark and grey
You reminded me of brighter days
I hoped you were coming home to stay
I was headed to church
I was off to drink you away

I thought about you for a long time
Can’t seem to get you off my mind
I can’t understand why we’re living life this way

I found your picture today
I swear I’ll change my ways
I just called to say I want you to come back home
I found your picture today
I swear I’ll change my ways
I just called to say I want you
To come back home
I just called to say I love you
Come back home

I’m using the official video, since I can’t find one I actually like (at least this one won’t get taken down and blacked out), but it’s hilarious they blank out the word “cocaine.”

Side note: there’s a fabulous parody of “Picture” called “Double Diet” by Bob Ricci. Unfortunately there is no video to speak of, but I had the song saved. If you’ve actually read this poast, and not just clicked like, please treat yourself to this super funny tune:

I Wouldn’t Call It An Obsession, But…

…I like to read about the British Royal Family.

There, I said it. Whew! Confession is good for the soul. 😀

Whenever I see an article about a pretty frock Princess Whozis is wearing, I click on that. I want to read more. Is she wearing pantyhose like she’s supposed to? I need to know (if not, I hope the Queen won’t haz a mad). What about shooze? Do they match the dress perfectly or are they black or nude? I like to find out.

I read about the cute lovey nicknames the couples have for each otter, their adorable kids, that time they broke up (oh sads), etc. I smile to see pics of their shiny happiness. And I love all the bright colors the Queen wears. She rocks.

I especially like reading these tidbits now. They’re like M&Ms sprinkled in our shit salad of news… one dripping horror slice after another about the deranged narcissist POTUS, his spineless enablers, the rise of white supremacy, the constant random shootings, the nonstop domestic violence, the weekly overdoses/deaths of celebs, the never-ending wars, on and on.

Yeah. More fluff pieces on fancy hats, please and thank you.

Friday Crabfest [ranty rant NSFW]

I didn’t get a great night’s sleep and am feeling blah despite being on vacay, but I have found some energy to complain, yay!

First, I hate shopping for clothes in stores. Now that I’ve been spoiled by the vast selection of clothing online and the ease of clicking quickly to search for exactly what I want, regular meatspace stores drive me nutz. They have nothing but black! Is everyone going to funerals 24/7? Fucksake!

Also, I tried to find a casual beige or blue jacket or sweatshirt last night for my trip, but nopey nope. No jackets allowed. It’s summer, so stores will sell me sleeveless things only. I’m feeling too lethargic to try again this morning, plus who wants to spend an official vacay day at the maul? Yuck! Guess I’ll wear my lumpy old grey sweatshirt, boo.

Onto books. I have a lot of new books on my Kindle, which is great and all. I try to be openminded toward new ways of writing even though I’m old (and crabby) (don’t forget crabby), and I have grudgingly come to accept the multiple POV novel told in first person, even though for decades I found this utterly appalling. But there was always the first person rule about not saying stuff like “and then I died,” and it damn well applies to multi views too. Jesus GAWD how do these people get published and not me, waaah!

Okay, I would like to know what people did before there were leaf blowers. Seriously. Did leaves pile up on walkways and create big leafmonsters that swallowed up little children? Did they swirl into leafnados on our streets creating traffic hazards? I need to know what in the FUCK makes it so important for these nasty noisy machines to pollute the air every morning.

I was reading Foxnooz as I do because they have the best snake 🐍 and alligator stories, and I saw some bitching about how Keith Ellison got a pass from the liberal media on his alleged girlfriend abuse. So, I looked that up, and no he didn’t. But since she refuses to let anyone see the vid, what more is there to say? I am no fan of Ellison, btw, but this is just one more example of how the rightwing media blatantly lies to their consumers.

Finally, Del Taco fries 🍟 are not as good as they used to be, which is sad, but actually not because now after a couple experiences of meh DT fries, I’m no longer going to stop and get them for an occasional treat on the way home from work. Dunno what has changed, but the yummy factor is gone. Could be me, idk. Don’t think so because I still love Jack in the Box curly fries just the same. (I think it’s DT.) Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, there’s no JITB on my way home.

That’s all. We now return you to your regular stream of poasts about puppies 🐶 and rainbows 🌈.

Communication Breakdown [rantish]

[Continuing my Led Zeppelin theme in honor of my friend Joe the Troll, who is the only one who notices these things.]

Today’s prompt contact took me back to my dating site days aka the Valium years. It was always tricky to decide about first contact. Some men like it when a woman approaches them (just like in “real life,” for those who pretend the internet isn’t real). These men say it takes the guesswork out of deciding who to approach and how, along with eliminating the fear of rejection. I was rejected many times, but I didn’t care.

This is something I fail to understand about men (along with every otter thing). Why is it bad to be rejected upfront? Then you can easily move on without having invested anything but a few seconds. Sure, being rejected later hurts, but that’s not what I’m talking about now. I’m talking about the constant complaining about getting told no (or silence) after one hello.

Okay. After making initial contact and establishing some minimal threshold of mutual interest, most reasonable people would chitchat a bit in the site’s message program. But here’s the tricky part: “a bit” can mean different things. Some men think 30 seconds is enough chatting; if you don’t cough up your phone number after that they accuse you of being a phony. Other men will chat a line or two for days or weeks and never want to move to the phone. I have a term for them: “married.”

Alrighty. Say two people have successfully navigated first contact, initial chats, the phone convo, and even a first meet (gawd forbid we call that coffee thingie a “date” because this is utterly terrifying to some dudes)… now what? Well, I’ll tell you! It gets even trickier.

You have to decide how often to contact your person and how to respond to any contact from them. Say they text you one afternoon a few days after Coffee Thingie: “Hey, how’s it going?” What should you do now? So many options!

1. You don’t like them and never want to see them again, so you:

a. ignore them totally (ghost).
b. say “hey” like 3 days later hoping they’ll get the hint.
c. explain in methodical detail how much they suck, attaching a spreadsheet.
d. say “hi, nice to have met you, but we’re not a match… have a great life, bye!”

2. You really like them and want to have their baby, so you:

a. immediately reply with a long gushing text about how that was the best coffee you ever had and put lots of emojis; then before they reply again send 17 more texts about various things including photos of your pets and grandparents.
b. say “hey” like 3 days later with a smiley.
c. say “hey” immediately without a smiley.
d. wait a couple hours and suggest a plan to get together again.

What if you’re unsure? Like maybe Coffee Thingie wasn’t enough time to determine whether you really liked the dude or not? Back in the Dayz of Olde, this would have been fine because dating was all about getting together repeatedly to determine compatibility. But that’s not what people expect now. When a woman tells a man that she wants to see him again after Coffee Thingie, most men from dating sites take this as a de facto admission that she’s wildly attracted to him and proceed accordingly.

This is a major reason why I am done with dating sites. Besides having to filter out all the liars and idiots and Nazis, etc. Some circles overlap obviously.

Good News

On this auspicious day, when a swollen ego got knocked off the major platforms of play and had to take his nasty ball of hate away, I mark the occasion with a resplendent hip hip hooray!

Free speech? Sure, if you’re not promoting violence and inciting spirals of real-world bullying and harm, slandering folks, etc. I hope this ushers in a new era when people are held to TOS all around. I realize it’s a huge task, but there was a time when, forex, Facebook required “real names” and it wasn’t so easy for bots to flood in with fake emails. It wouldn’t be that hard to require a ping to a credit card and location coordinates before allowing a new account.

But of course if all you care about is making a billion bucks a minute then you will only pretend to be concerned about security. That’s another issue. We can still be happy that Conspiracy Dude got kicked off the sites. Rah!

Double rah! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

MP#10-11: Still Not Dead

I wish people would quit burying MoviePass while it’s still breathing, ffs. I just read yet another article about how well yeah of course MP was destined to fail yada because it only appeals to people in cities or whatever.

Sunday I saw The King in Long Beach at an independent theater I’ve never been to before. It was a bazillion degrees out, but the theater was cool and comfy. My friend and I both enjoyed the film. It was a pretty sobering look at the US, not a typical docu. Afterward, we had nommy Mexican food across the street at Lola’s.

Yesterday, while everyone was tweeting how they couldn’t see Mission Impossible: Fallout all weekend, I checked my local theater, Triangle Square, saw it was available, and snagged a great seat for myself at the 7pm showing. Normally I don’t go to movies on work nights, but I can make an exception for Tom Cruise. Fun flick! Plot more incomprehensible than a Bond film! But fun! Much chase, very shooting.

This was my first MP, believe it or not. I’m a Cruise fan, but I prefer him in other stuff. I’ve liked him since Risky Business, which I ducked out of a computer class to see back in Chicago. You should have heard that audience cheer when he put on those shades and said, “Looks like… University of Illinois!”

Anyway. My MoviePass app is just fine, thanks for asking. Just got an email from Mitch himself apologizing for the outages and saying things will be improving, etc. So put that on your popcorn and smoke it.

Guilt by Association [mini-rant]

When I was in high school, I had a good friend who didn’t like me to smoke when I was with her, or ever ideally, because then people might think she smoked. Another friend refused to be seen with me at the homecoming football game because I was a freshman and she was a sophomore, and she thought she would look uncool hanging around with a “baby.” A lot of high school girls were like this, secretive and petty, concerned how their friendships reflected on themselves and projected whatever image they were trying to cultivate. Boys may have been similar, but I didn’t know them.

At various times, people say we ought to shun those with different beliefs partly because of the guilt by association factor. We should punish those of the opposition political party by refusing to eat in cafes with them, forex. God forbid someone should see us having a snadwich with the enemy ~ they might assume we also eat our bread with the butter side down! Or we should tell Grandma that we won’t go to her house for the holidays if she votes for so&so, or if she invites Uncle Neepy, who supports the ban on fruitcake.

I’m deliberately making light of some serious issues because I have friends with beliefs all over the place, and family too. I don’t believe in the guilt by association concept: I believe in judging each person as an individual… and then hating them. I didn’t like to be tagged and boxed by closed-minded folks when I told them I voted for a Democrat (and they were invariably wrong when they tried to guess my other positions from that one piece of information), so I try not to do that myself.

It was hurtful in high school and it still is.

Addicted to News [mini-rant]

What is it about other people’s drama that’s so enticing to read about? While I’ll always click on a cute kitty story, I find myself drawn even more to the negative news loops like a gawker at a traffic accident. Even when I already know the gist, I’ll click to see yet another POV ~ and then be disgusted with myself for wasting my own time. Stop!

Whether it’s politics or entertainment (not that there’s much diff), I am a glutton for punishment, stuffing myself at the 24-hour buffet of stupid “news.” And then I have the nerve to whine right here on my own blarg that wah wah I can’t find the time to write fiction any longer.

I told myself that quitting Facebook would free up loads of extra time, and it has, but I’ve been spending it reading about the Karjenners. Gahhh.

But seriously, Kylie is cuter sans the fillers.

Barbara Double D [dating story]

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I met a man named Ozzy. We’re calling him this because he’s originally from Australia, or so he said. You never know with guys from dating sites, since they tend to lie about everything. He lived in NorCal and was working here, in SoCal, and was (allegedly) separated from his wife. I didn’t care at the time that he wasn’t divorced yet because I wasn’t either. He was very sympathetic regarding the recent death of my mom, which drew me to him.

For our first meeting/date, he took me to a very nice Japanese restarant, where we had a long, leisurely sushi and sake lunch. (Back then, I loved sushi and also drank alcohol.) It sure beat the boring Starbucks meets favored by the majority of men on dating sites. We kissed afterward and it was very fireworky. He also enjoyed writing and sent me a sexy story starring us and included a special pasta dish similar to spaghetti carbonara but named for me.

Ozzy and I began dating/sleeping together. He was fun and cute and had a nice place provided by his employer (I had a child at home and didn’t bring dates over). We had agreed at the start to be monogamous and deactivate our dating profiles, but for whatever reason I didn’t trust him. And I wasn’t even that cynical yet, but I simply didn’t.

So, I reurned to the same site where we met, but instead of reactivating my profile to spy on Ozzy (which he would see and then deny doing anything, except accuse me of still being active too… stalemate), I created a new, spoof profile. I named her BarbaraDD and stole a photo of a blurry blonde off the web. I made her profile very different from mine: outgoing saleswoman with implants, loves to travel, likes watching football, wants to keep things casual. I made deliberate spelling errors, though that was difficult. Barbara viewed Ozzy’s profile and said “hey how are u” ~ something I’d never do in a million years. Of course he responded because he hadn’t deactivated.

Naturally, Barbara also received 90 kajillion messages from other men, pretty much every man on the site. She ignored all of them and focused only on chatting with Ozzy. She said outrageous things, like she wanted to come to him right after she had unprotected sex with another man, and he said that would be great. Ughhh. Then he sent Barbara the sexy story, changing the names, including the recipe to Pasta Barbara.

I was so mad! Obviously Ozzy sent that stupid story to all his women.

Barbara told him the story was incredible and made her want to meet him right away, but she’d lost her phone. Could he just meet her tonight at this bar in Newport Beach at 8:00? Of course he agreed.

At 8:00, BarbaraDD deleted her account. I blocked Ozzy and never spoke to him again. Dunno if he figured it out.