Cheesecake

It started innocently enough.

“This cheesecake is really good,” said my dad, “I wonder if it would be good with a graham cracker crust.”

“Probably, but I didn’t have any graham crackers,” my mom replied.

“Do you think next time you make it you could make a graham cracker crust?” my dad asked.

“I told you I didn’t have any graham crackers.”

“I know. But do you think next time, you could make a graham cracker crust?” He pronounces it gray-um CRA-cker.

Exasperated sigh. “If I have them. But I didn’t have any graham crackers this time.” She pronounces it gram. CRACKER.

“Okay! But I’m asking you: the next time you make a cheesecake, will you make it with a graham cracker crust?“

“I will. If I have graham crackers. I can only use what’s here.”

“What do you mean ‘if’ you have them?”

“Just what I said. If I have them. I can’t produce graham crackers out of thin air!”

My dad looked at me and let out a chortle, “Do you see what I have to deal with every day?”

“Mom,” I said, “can’t you just buy some graham crackers?” I pronounce it like a normal person: GRAMcracker. 

“I will! But if I don’t have any, I’ll have to use something else!”

“But why can’t you just go to the store?” my voice broke on the last word and I burst out laughing so hard I started crying. I covered my face with my hands.

“I can! But if I run out, then I won’t have any to make your stupid crust and I’ll have to use something else!”

“But I don’t understand,” I was still crying. “Why can’t you just buy some?”

“I JUST SAID I’D BUY SOME DAMN GRAHAM CRACKERS!”

“But–” I tried to stop laughing long enough to talk, but I couldn’t. By this time my dad was laughing uncontrollably too.

“What’re you two laughing at? I can’t make a graham cracker crust if there are no graham crackers! I can’t produce them out of thin air! I’ll have to use something else!”

“But…but why can’t you just make a list?” My inflection would rise on every word so the last one would be a squeak. “And go to the store before you make it? Do you…do you start in the middle of cooking something?”

“Cooking in the Middle With Margit! Margit Cooks From the Middle!” My dad added, and we both laughed harder. He loves to create fictional Food Network shows starring my mom, Margit.

“The hell with the two of you. I’m never making another cheesecake!”

Best Tweets of 2011

I decided to list my favorite tweets of 2011 as a blog post to prevent my tweets from clogging up other people’s tweetstreams. As you will see, I have a lot of favorites. Some tweets may be more esoteric than others, and especial favorites can be found in bold. Warning: this may be the longest list ever compiled by human hands. Get a cup of coffee. See also: Nerd Pickup Lines

@KvnHrrsn Overheard after Black Swan: “She was turning into some kind of black bird? What was that all about?” 1/4/11

@RobDelaney “I AM A BUTTHOLE DETECTIVE!” – dogs 1/6/11

@BoobsRadley “Detox Tea” tastes like Nicolas Cage’s hot tub water. 1/6/11

@BadBanana Scientists have found organics on Mars. So now we know Mars can support insufferable hipsters. 1/7/11

@JacobNordby Calvin & Hobbes for writers 1/10/11

@mephjeff When Roberta Flack first sang ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song’, I wonder if she was prophesying the rise of Jack Johnson. 1/13/11

@PFTompkins To everyone who @ messages me to tell me you’re unfollowing me, be sure to tag it with #sadbidforattention 1/15/11

@PaulyMortadella Tom Hanks and Nicholas Cage should make a high spirited, unpredictable adventure together called “Deus ex Machina!” 1/17/11

@badbanana Catwoman is so played out. Here’s my suggestion for the next Batman movie. Catcat. A cat with slightly enhanced cat powers. 1/19/11

@Paxochka Dinosaurs died out because they insisted on using internet explorer. 1/20/11

@LeSouperfly “If fascism means getting rid of juggalos… count me in” – Gabe 1/22/11

@drewtoothpaste “Are you drinking water?” No, doctor. No water. I am dead now because I didn’t know what to do when I got thirsty. 1/22/11

@kiala You guys, is Noah Baumbach the Tyler Perry of white people? 1/24/11

@JamesUrbaniak Sputnik reference well received; will audience get upcoming reference to The Big Bopper? 1/25/11

@darthbender Does anyone remember my Turbotax password? If not, I’m going to keep drinking until it comes back to me. 1/27/11

@rbeekeepers Don’t remind me. RT @MikelDallas There will be an over hyped Beatles anniversary celebration every year for the rest of your life. 2/9/11

@PaulyMortadella Why can’t swingers be attractive? 2/10/11

@kellyoxford No need to tell me about yourself, you chose “Coach” as your status bag. We’re good here. 2/10/11

@brandiglam No matter how good a song is, if there is any sound resembling the sound of a kid’s voice, it is dead to me. 2/10/11

@TJC_Buell This is really GHB #rejectedcandyhearts 2/13/11

@minervajayne And I woke up calling Linda Evans’ name & then realized I slept on a Burger King taco. Who have I become? 2/15/11

@repressd I’m going to write a song called “Short Bitches Don’t Respect Personal Space.” 2/18/11

@scott_nicholson after looking at some recent tweets of ya’lls I’ve made a unilateral decision that we should all walk off our jobs tomorrow & get drunk 2/28/11

@thelittleginger GAAAAAH! System of a Down is about as cool as a terrible fire at an elementary school. 3/2/11

@senorpaco There’s a “Motorboating” magazine. Wonder how many subscribers were disappointed when they got the 1st issue & found out it was about boats. 3/4/11

@sucittaM I don’t know why my boss wants me to set his car on fire so badly, but I swear that’s all I can hear him saying. 3/7/11

@johnONeil People and their opinions. Feh. You can have them. 3/15/11

@NickRoundtree You know you are at Rock Bottom, when walking out of Mulligans and pair of underwear falls out of your pant leg, and you trip on them. 3/23/11

@lanewoods That’s funny, I thought I was the only solipsist here. 3/28/11

@isaacPR The thing I don’t understand about sports is WHY. 3/28/11

@schlanghole ME: Hello. Wirestone. UNKNOWN: Yes. You were referred to me to perform my son’s circumcision. ME: I think you have the wrong number. 3/30/11

@ejhildreth Since Snap! is no longer around, I sure hope they named somebody in their will to get The Power when their estate is settled. 3/30/11

@rachyrach1 mother nature is joan crawford and we’re all using wire hangers 4/1/11

@SethMacFarlane Jazz was never that big into Johnny either. 4/6/11

@ejhildreth Boise is no longer the city of trees. New Slogan: Boise City of Cars Crashing into Buildings. 4/12/11

@mightysmith Often Twitter is like a combo of Stuart Smalley meets Adam Smith, w/ Daily Affirmations delivered by those least qualified to give advice. 4/14/11

@Glinner I absolutely love this song by Matt Berry. This video is lovely too. Take My Hand

@mrgrantolsen As for Futurama spin-offs I’m only interested in a hilarious Odd Couple style comedy with Calculon and Dr. Zoidberg. 4/24/11

@MissSassyMango Busier than a cat covering up shit on a concrete floor. 4/27/11

@jennykay_WHOA malls are kinda like if dirty feet and grease had a love child and then that kid just barfed everywhere. 4/30/11

@JohnFugelsang Ladies, stress is God’s way of telling you to get yourself a massage, not cut your own bangs again. 5/2/11

@TweetsOfOld The average Chicago man is so bow-legged that when he wears knee breeches he could be mistaken for a pair of runaway ice-tongs. PA1886 5/5/11

@MsSummerFinn Being woken up by my roommate to see what gym clothes he should wear to meet up w/a boy he likes as they workout isn’t the best start my day. 5/6/11

@megansmurp I don’t know who created a show tunes station on my iPhone pandora app…but I do know this: revenge is best served repeatedly. 5/6/11

@kellycub Watch out for excited deer. 5/11/11

@TomMitcham Hadn’t realized tonight was “prom” till I noticed what I thought were funeral mourners downtown. #LikeOMG 5/14/11

@kellyoxford This May 21st rapture thing is going to create a lot of genetically inferior February babies. 5/16/11

@GeorgeTakei Schwarzenegger confesses to fathering baby with house staff member, but explains that child is destined to bring down SkyNet in 2031. 5/17/11

@tmoneydammit What’s timezone is God in? Need to know when to watch for unattended moving cars. #rapture 5/17/11

@mightysmith When the rapture takes all the super pious to heaven, that should bring down the costs of gas and prostitutes. #May21 #TongueInCheek 5/18/11

@KenPlume I don’t know about you, but boy will I be glad when that sanctimonious nag Kirk Cameron is gone. #TheRapture 5/18/11

@kellyoxford Zsa Zsa, Eva and Magda Gabor were the Cold War’s Kim, Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian. 5/18/11

@MissSassyMango “If the rapture’s coming, I’d better do some manscaping.” -@albear 5/19/11

@bylertrewington People who cared about Oprah. People who cared about the Rapture. This Venn diagram needs a punchline. 5/25/11

@tricycles Thanks to @theamazingben, I’ve taken to yelling at my clothes when I take them off. “Fuck you, shirt! You live on the floor now! Suck it!” 5/31/11

@DonLDay Ironman 70.3 comes to Boise: makes it impossible to get around for locals so some out-of-towners can ride their bikes. 6/10/11

@bylertrewington Frustrated something something weird something something like objectively weird something inscrutable something something. #momtweets 6/15/11

@daveanthony Somewhere, right now, George Clooney is fingering someone. Always. 6/22/11

@AlbertBrooks I hate the treadmill. I hate the stationary bike. I hate running in the street. Can’t I stay in shape just by hating? 6/22/11

@badbanana Great food here in the south of France, obviously, since we’re so close to the Olive Garden’s culinary institute in Tuscany. 6/22/11

@michaelianblack The idea of camping is wonderful. The actuality of not going camping is better. 6/27/11

@johnONeil Listen, Honey. I don’t mean no harm. I just like sweet things. 6/30/11

@SethMacFarlane I think little kids cry a lot because they can’t have margaritas yet. 7/1/11

@afrosack @chadfu you’re a Sally Struthers stunt double. 7/11/11

@neurolux Just a bunch of hippies. RT @karleemay Will I be seeing anyone at the Franti concert later? 7/15/11

@afrosack I hate it when people say “if it wasn’t for such and such I’d be dead or in jail.” Mother fucker you wouldn’t be at the mall maybe? 7/18/11

@Wolfrum Remember, it takes fewer muscles to frown than it does to punch out the person who just told you to “Smile!” 7/18/11

@toddlevin Twitter cuts through all the b.s. that would otherwise distract us from behaving like needy, easily wounded babies. 7/18/11

@JoshMalina The misuse of apostrophes on cabin placards is ruining my lake vacation. 7/19/11

@drewtoothpaste I love before/after diet pics. The diet always causes the person to lose their body hair and develop a deep, oily tan. 7/20/11

@BentoBill @albear ff? Fat face? Fish fucker? Freaky freakerton? Funny fart? Foamy felacio? Fabulous fondling? Flaming farm? Frontal functions? 7/22/11

@RobDelaney Just put on my old sweatpants & took a Viagra. Headed to Costco. 7/25/11

@sucittaM Bags of dicks are gluten-free, right? 7/25/11

@thesulk Has anything happened since 2008? I’ve been looking down at my phone. 7/27/11

@GenitalTzo Rollin’ in the derp. 8/1/11

@OTOOLEFAN ATLAS SHRUGGED is the Bible of assholes. 8/3/11

@JimGaffigan I find reading poetry really inspires me to not read poetry. 8/3/11

@shadrach Smiling is not really in my skill set. 8/12/11

@luckyshirt After the Flood, God made a rainbow as a promise He would never kill us all again. But later He got all mad at us again and made celery. 8/15/11

@Lesouperfly At Sub Zero ice cream shop. It’s amazing how all these spraytanned mall cocksuckers seem so confused by this place. 8/15/11

@kellyoxford Kinda cruel that everyone who applies for public assistance is forced to get a Tasmanian Devil tattoo. 8/16/11

@JimGaffigan “I need a shirt, but I also want to showcase how long my armpit hair is.” – Every guy who has bought a tank top. 8/16/11

@brionrushton We had a human race but it lost. 8/23/11

@JoshMalina If you teach your kids just one thing, they’ll be stupid. 8/24/11

@Kurt_Vonnegut Literature should not disappear up its own asshole, so to speak. 8/31/11

@Andy_Richter Football season has started! So to all the heterosexual men in my life – we’ll resume conversations in February. 9/9/11

@SarahThyre ♬ Welcome to the jungle/we got zobby-zoo♬ – Axl Jolson 9/9/11

@jjsaldana @repressd So, I waited for you to show up so we could thug it out. You didn’t show up. 9/11/11

@tiffanill I’m not sure if there’s anything worse than being condescended to by a woman who wears too much frosty eyeshadow. 9/12/11

@skrike I cant wait til we have a white republican president again so I can send racist emails to my dad. “Look what President Redneck Cracker did!” 9/13/11

@JohnFugelsang “Real country music, not what they call country today, which is basically a bad rock band with a fiddle.”- Tom Petty. 9/14/11

@megansmurp How am I supposed to work when all I can think about is making David Lynch my boyfriend? 9/14/11

@m3mo Just saw a dude that was the spitting image (and hairstyle) of René Descartes 9/14/11

@gahrealmonsters Radio, why are you so terrible? 9/15/11

@evilsenorpaco Anger! This calls for more wine! Anger wine! 9/20/11

@FuriousDShow Two & A Half Lepers #16thCenturySitComs 9/21/11

@nakedlaughing 30 Rocks Piled On Criminals #16thCenturySitComs

@RobDelaney Michael Stipe announced he’s teaming up with Scott Stapp for a U.S. van tour. They’re calling it REM Creedwagon. 9/21/11

@merkprof I want to tell all the woman on FB complaining about their kids “No one held a gun to your vagina.” 9/22/11

@clockriders Somebody should totally reissue some Beatles songs… I mean, that’s never been done… right? 9/27/11

@albear Foundation of any relationship: 9/27/11

@brigadiermcweir I am at applebees. Pretty glad we don’t have these. 9/28/11

@GenitalTzo There are two types of people in this world, and I fucking hate both of them. 9/29/11

@SarahThyre Ragtime piano playing in this office bldg restroom. Must fight urge to take saloon girl’s bath at the sink. 9/30/11

@BorowitzReport Twitter is great at helping us get sick of things faster. 10/1/11

@Shadrach I’ve never watched an episode of Big Bang Theory, but from what I can tell it’s a show about nerds wearing t-shirts over long sleeve shirts. 10/1/11

@hopess13 Bucket List item crossed off tonight: motor boated by a Scotsman while he shouted #GoBroncos @brigadiermcweir 10/2/11

@KenPlume Mayberry RIP. #depressingsitcoms 10/7/11

@TheyCallMeCrash Sucks. 10/14/11

@michaelianblack The word “epic” has lost the right to exist. 10/18/11

@TweetsOfOld The autumn leaves decay, and the town cow is taking in the situation around Dick Jones’ gin warehouse. AR1891 10/18/11

@thelittleginger Yes, I am judging you and your leashed child. 10/20/11

@BoobsRadley Isn’t it weird how “A man, a plan, a canal, Panama” is a perfect palindrome that also describes its meaning, consensual sex with Van Halen? 10/24/11

@TheChrisAngel Twitter: 8 million users, 7 jokes. 11/2/11

@senorpaco The Apocalypse is here. I just saw a “hip” bass fishing show where the guys fishing did a rap. 11/2/11

@Splendor The amount of contempt I have for you is directly proportional to the length of the inspirational quote in your email signature. 11/2/11

@yoyoha If I was a dolphin, I’d definitely eat a person. No one would ever suspect me. It would be the perfect crime. 11/4/11

@ChadFu I blame my anger on growing up in the 80′s. All the neon and sharp edges tweaked my head. 11/4/11

@GenitalTzo The easiest way to die of blunt force trauma to the head is to be my coworker and comment on my lunch. 11/9/11

@rilaws I am going to see Jack & Jill tonight. Do you think it’s going to be weird living the rest of my life without eyes and a face? 11/9/11

@drewtoothpaste If you are wondering how a “meme” is created, here’s a handy guide. 11/15/11

@thesulk The View is like cat vomit that can talk. 11/15/11

@brigadiermcweir back the fuck up, lovefilm, when did i order avatar!? i so did not. 11/16/11

@rilaws The best part of any wedding is eating Bugles in a hotel room. 11/19/11

@ThomasPaul117 So, call ABC Taxi and ask for Bob if you want to walk in the steps of a guy who just called ABC Taxi and asked for a cab. #trendsetting 11/24/11

@robdelaney I killed 11 people at Walmart yesterday. 11/26/11

@Wolfrum Breaking: Vladamir Putin accepts his party’s nomination for President. Says Presidency shouldn’t interfere with his Dictator-for-Life gig. 11/27/11

@66Betty 5yo boy at work panting heavily. Me: “What are you doing?” Him: “I taught my dog to talk. This is what she says.” 11/28/11

@DaveScheidt You are on vacation, swimming in the ocean. Just remember that you are probably swimming in the ashes of everyone’s grandma. 11/29/11

@JohnFugelsang “Stop whining, you liberal idiot. The Feudal Lords are the Job Creators.” – one serf, to another. 12/1/11

@JanesAmerica INTERNET IS SERIOUS BUSINESS ALERT. SERIOUSLY GUYS, THIS IS NOT FOR FUN. 12/1/11

@JovankaVuckovic Best. Christmas tree. Ever. 12/5/11

@ionmoney “well…robots and androids, if you want to lump them all together.” “I think they’re all the same.” “*incredulous look*” 12/5/11

@nationallampoon Prohibition ended 78 years ago today. If you’re not wasted right now it was all for nothing. 12/5/11

@hootchmcgee Missed Connections: Met you at JCPenney. I think your sister’s name is Debra. Anyway, I wanna get witchu both. Oh, and I drive a Hyundai. 12/6/11

@robdelaney I broke off all contact with my sister when she named her son Jaden. 12/6/11

@StinaMFKing I don’t get it. Take moderately mediocre dude, add instrument, throw in some skinny jeans & a 2 week beard growth and viola! panties fly off. 12/7/11

@GenitalTzo Paul McCartney makes $400,000/year in royalties for his godawful “Wonderful Christmas Time”. That’s $1 for every time I’ve heard it today. 12/8/11

@doxees Hyperbole is the worst thing ever. 12/11/11

@tmoneydammit This shall be my epitaph. RT @repressd This was her message: ,,i,, ,,i,, 12/13/11

@PaulyMortadella I have yet to meet someone aloof and enigmatic who isn’t crazy as a shithouse rat. 12/15/11

@thinkgeek Ohhh, noooo, the wee tiny hipsters in their wee tiny pantses! Boo hoo hoo! 12/16/11

@workforfood ☑ Kim Jong Il ☑ Khaddafi ☑ Osama Bin Laden ☑ Saddam Hussein ☐ Internet Explorer. 12/18/11

@robdelaney “We Bought a Zoo” was OK but the soundtrack is straight up 4 on the floor fuckin’ music. Instant panty-liquefying jams. 12/19/11

@RachaelDaigle overheard in the BW newsroom: “I can’t decide who’s pettier: local bands or local politicians.” 12/19/11

@BorowitzReport In his first statement, Kim Jong-Il’s son vows to use nuclear weapons “to destroy those green pigs who stole our eggs.” 12/20/11

@66Betty 4yo boy at work, to me: You are my girlfriend, but I am NOT your boyfriend! 12/23/11

@lilivonshtupp I seem to be lacking the *normal* female emotions of being pregnant. I think I’m just one shipping container away from Dexter sometimes. 12/28/11

@DamienFahey “This is NPR.” Yeah, we know. You just spent the past 4 minutes whispering the news over a jazz saxophone solo. 12/29/11

@abide_the_dude These two shits could not be given. 12/30/11

Oliver

Anyone who’s ever talked to me for more than 5 seconds probably knows that I love dogs. And when I say I love dogs, what I mean is that I FUCKING LOVE DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Imagine this font is in flashing neon with little hearts and stars and dolphins and rainbows and dinosaurs and kittens and goddamn puppies bouncing around all over it).

So it seems natural that when my parents told me two weeks ago that they wanted to get me a puppy that I should have been ecstatic, right? Because I FUCKING LOVE DOGS! But I wasn’t.

Even before I said yes to the prospect of a “sweet little Shih Tzu,” as my mom put it, I was assailed by the one of the worst panic attacks I’ve ever had. I hardly slept for 5 nights in a row, and I lost weight over Thanksgiving weekend, which is highly unusual for someone who loves mashed potatoes and gravy and post T-day pizza as much as I do.

It’s not like I didn’t want a dog. I mean, I spent at least one sleepless night trying to think of names for a little boy dog before I’d even met him. Every name I thought of (Eugene Hütz, Marcellus Wallace, Spock, Satan) seemed better suited to a cat, however.

I went to meet the puppies and I got the perfect one. He was the runt and the one that the lady called her little Ewok. “When you roll him on his back and rub his little tummy he looks just like an Ewok!” she said. This is true, except for the fact that my dog is adorable whereas Ewoks are butt ugly.

my dog

Ewok

Now I have him at home and I couldn’t possibly love him more. He is sweet and adorable and everything you would expect from a tiny three pound fluffball of a puppy, including puppy breath (one of my favorite things in the world) and needle-like puppy teeth. And stealth pissing. Blink your eye and there’s a pee spot on the rug.

I love the hell out of him, but why do I feel so depressed? I spent all day yesterday at home with him and all day I felt like I was about to burst into tears. My friend came over to play with him for a little bit, and after she left I couldn’t help but think I was never going to have any fun again. I hate change, I know that’s part of it. Having a dog means I’ll never be completely alone in my apartment again, though of course it’s not like living with other people. I place a high value on my alone time, and start to feel sort of panicky if I don’t have a good balance of alone time v. time spent around other people. On the other hand, I also know I can’t go out for awhile if I should want to–at least, not spontaneously, which is the way I like to do things. My parents sit the puppy when I’m working or not at home, but I won’t be able to just run out of the house on a whim. Having too much stuff planned out makes me feel kind of trapped, and the idea of not being able to just pick up and go get a beer with friends whenever I want to makes me feel just as panicky as when I can’t get away from people.

And then there’s the fact that the little bugger just…follows me around. All the time. Everywhere. And stares at me. Just like a puppy. I mean, he does this when he’s not sleeping or ripping the shit out of my clothes with his tiny little shark teeth. Am I really the best candidate to be responsible for a tiny little life? I’m pretty set in my ways. I mean, really.

Random Nonsense

I just found an old journal with some random posts that make me laugh. They’re probably utterly boring to everyone else, but I’m posting them anyway.

October 17, 2010 - For some hideously unfathomable reason, I’ve decided it’s a good idea for me to start keeping a journal. I must get another pen, however, as this one has what the manufacturers should market as a “masochist’s non-comfort grip.” The brand is called “Tūl,” the spelling of which looks sadistically Eastern bloc Cold War-esque to me.

October 18, 2010 – Well, that was sure fucked up. Didn’t sleep a wink last night. So many noisy vehicles go down the two streets surrounding my complex I don’t know how anyone gets any sleep there ever. I don’t know if the sound just carries better in cold weather or what, but Jesus fuck I wanted to stab some noisy drivers, like the guy who runs his car for 20 minutes at 4 when he leaves for his paper route, or the douche with the sad little lawn-mower engine who sounds like he zips in and out and around the entire complex at 1 or so on weeknights.

Tonight I’m at Carole’s and it is quiet. I just hope Otto can deal with me and stops huffily picking himself up and throwing himself down and giving me disgusted martyr looks.

Warning: This Story is Disgusting

I’ve thought about writing down his story many times since I first heard it, but I’ve never been sure I could do it any justice whatsoever. I’m not sure I have what it takes, or even that the written format can fully capture the knee-weakening, stomach-curdling nature of it, but I’d be a huge wimp if I didn’t at least try, right?

I should warn you now that the story I’m about to relate to you is really gross. Fucking disgusting, in fact. I don’t want to build it up so much that it doesn’t live up to expectations, but it’s not safe for reading at work, in public, with children present, before bed, and ESPECIALLY NOT WHEN YOU’RE EATING. Consider yourself warned. There, I’ve done my part.

My friend Heather told me this story several years ago when I went to visit her in Portland. I’m pretty sure it was the first thing out of her mouth when she picked me up from the airport. It was the first thing out of her mouth the next day when we picked up Tyler from the Metro station after he flew in, as well.

It began when a friend of a friend of Heather’s (I can’t vouch for the validity of this tale*) broke up with her long-time boyfriend. She went a little crazy, as people do, and decided to visit a Portland sex club named after a popular Motörhead song. While at the sex club, the girl, (who from this point on I’ll refer to as Polly, for sake of giving her a name), spent a considerable amount of time in what Heather referred to as the “Glory Hole Room.”

Several days later, Polly developed a nasty rash all around her lips and mouth. She went to the doctor and they seemed to have no idea what was wrong with her, so they told her they’d run some tests and set a follow-up appointment for a few days later. Polly, being an up-front, no-nonsense type person, told them about her foray into the sex club.

When Polly came back to the doctor a few days later, she was met in the waiting room by a police officer who escorted her to a private area and informed her that the rash she had on her mouth was, in fact, a flesh-eating bacteria. (This is the point in the story where Tyler exclaimed “That just made me go weak in the knees!” Good thing he was sitting in Heather’s car at the time). Furthermore, the cop told her, the only way to contract this particular form of necrotizing fasciitis, to use the scientific term, is to have contact with a dead body.

“I’ll just let that sink in for a minute,” Heather said.

The first place my mind went upon hearing this was “Wait, there was a corpse somewhere at the sex club?…behind one of the…glory…holes?” But that just didn’t make sense.

“NO!” exclaimed Heather, for by this time she’d told the story about eighteen times and really relished it, just like I am now, “No, it’s worse than that! The reason the cop was there, was because the Portland police were investigating a crime ring involving funeral homes who cater, under the table, to necrophiliacs.”

“But how–oh! OH GOD! SICK! SICKSICKSICK!”

During that trip, we walked by a LOT of funeral homes. And every time, one of us would say, “Oh my God! I wonder if that’s one of them!” and we’d all shudder.

I don’t know what became of Polly, since at the time Heather told me the story Polly was apparently still being treated for the flesh-eating rash.

*This story is probably total bullshit. Google searches have provided no evidence that any of it is real. But even if not, who cares? It’s a good story.

No I Don’t Got No ‘Splainin’ To Do

I told my friend yesterday that I didn’t want to write blogs that were only complaints.  But, I lied. I can’t help it. Our supershiny modern world has given birth to some new forms of inconsiderate behavior, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna pass up the chance to tell people to stop being inconsiderate jerks.

Election day was two days ago, and I have to say that it’s disheartening to be a Democrat in what is often referred to as the “reddest state in the union.” It sucks to go into a voting booth and know that there’s no chance that anyone who you feel is rational or in touch with reality/the modern world will get voted into office.

But the idiocy of my state’s politicians is not my point here.

As the election results started to come in, I got riled up. I wasn’t expecting some miraculous reversal of Idaho’s red ways or anything like that, but I was still disappointed and angry. I got somewhat mouthy on Twitter. I lamented my fellow Idahoans choice in Governor and Senators. People both agreed and disagreed with what I had to say. I said something like “This is why I say fuck voting in Idaho.” And some dude who I’ve never even talked to before and who’s never talked to me before reposted what I said captioned by the words “Why? Explain please.”

I’m sorry: what? Wait, poor choice of words: I’m NOT sorry. Who the hell are you, person I don’t even know, to question my OPINION? I don’t go asking you to explain why you wish McCain were president, or to explain why you love and hate the college football teams that you do, or to explain why you married your wife/bought your house/named your children Hansel and Gretel, or anything else under the sun.

I mean, for one thing, I had just spent an entire day–if not more–blathering about politics in Idaho. Subtext, you know? It was there to see, easy peasy. If you saw that tweet, you must’ve seen the all the previous ones stating my disdain for our state’s governor. And that I cannot fathom why our state’s supposedly “moral” populace keeps voting for a drunk buffoon who swims in cheap cologne every morning before he gets dressed in his tight polyester jeans.  No?

Even if you didn’t see anything else I said on Tuesday, what the hell do you think gives you the right to demand an explanation for the opinion of another person? A person you’ve never even spoken to before? It’s not like I’m your 16-year-old daughter whom you’ve just caught sneaking back in at 4 in the morning. Nor am I a drunk driver, nor a rabble-rousing radio host, nor a cunty magazine editor who’s stolen your copyrighted material and then called you an idiot for demanding an apology.

But let’s not split hairs, eh? It is perhaps irresponsible not to vote, or to promote an attitude that it’s okay not to vote. That is, at least, the opinion of many people. I voted. I have the sticker to prove it. And while I cannot understand why 90 percent of my coworkers voted for Clement Leroy puppy-butchering Otter on Tuesday, I would never dream of asking them “Why? Please explain.” Why not? Well, because we are all adults with the right to choose our own opinions and vote as we see fit, in our own best interest, yada yada. I am not responsible for how my coworkers vote, nor can I control how they vote. I can try to persuade them to do what I think is best, sure, but I actually think it’s pretty rude–not to mention futile–to tell my 55-year-old, pro-hunting, dyed-in-the-wool Republican coworker whom I’ve only spoken to twice in my life that I think he needs to reconsider how he votes. Same way I would think it would be rude and even “wrong” for me to demand that he explain his political opinions to me.

And that’s what it boils down to for me: rudeness. It’s just plain rude and, lemme see…condescending and presumptuous to demand that someone give you an explanation for their opinion. Sure, if I were telling your child “Voting is for suckers” I would understand you being upset. But if you don’t like the opinions I express to adults on the internet, you have the choice to disagree with me openly or not listen to me.

But don’t try to bait me into an argument by putting words in my mouth or getting annoyed that I’m biased. You know what? I am biased. I have never claimed otherwise, from the time I spoke my first full sentence at fourteen months of age. And seeing as how I’m not a journalist or a juror, there’s no reason I need to be unbiased. Also? I don’t care about being unbiased. If I’m ill-informed then that’s unfortunate, however, it might only be your opinion that I’m ill-informed. And you’re entitled to your opinion. My opinions aren’t your responsibility, so don’t worry about it.

Oh, and I have LOTS of opinions. Wanna hear some?

I think that when a man wears a short-sleeved shirt with a tie, it makes him look like a pedophile. I think the film Rushmore is way, way,WAY overrated. Also, the actress who plays Mrs. Cross annoys the shit out of me: why can’t she wax that fucking mustache? I think Jake Gyllenhaal is a giant douchebag, but I adore his sister Maggie. I think that anyone who would purposely hurt a dog should have his or her head chopped off. I don’t like all these nontraditional baby names that have proliferated in the past decade that are nouns and/or are full of z’s and x’s. I love most foods made with lemon zest. I do not believe that the popularity of Jersey Shore is what’s wrong with America. I think it’s wrong to hunt wolves but not to hunt elk or deer or ducks or moose or other non-predators. I think that stereotypes and cliches exist because they are often true, and I also think it’s pretty easy to categorize most people. I think people who drive huge trucks, live in the city, and don’t use the trucks for purposes having to do with their livelihood are giant assholes. I think internet memes are stupid and annoying, and that they ruin perfectly good things like bacon, cupcakes, and zombies. I hate that the word “that” crops up so much in my writing.

My God, I’ve talked forever. Goodnight.

What I’ve Been Doing

Last summer I decided I wanted to paint the inside of my entire condo white. This summer, I am making making that clean white dream a reality.  Little by little, on weekends, I’ve been painting over the bright colors that I’ve lived with for the last five years with Behr Pure Premium Ultra paint in Silky White.  I chose this paint because it has almost no fumes and because it has primer built in.  It’s great because it’s been covering my green walls in just two coats–I hope the same will be true for my turquoise bathroom and dark red bedroom. Here are some before and after shots:

Living Room Before

Living Room After

Hallway Before

Hallway After (opposite view)

I don't have a before, but just imagine the white if it were green.

It’s funny the unnecessary annoyances we humans will put up with because we either think things are too difficult to change, or because we don’t even realize that we can improve a situation.  Take, for example, the situation with my heating and air-conditioning. I’ve owned my condo for five years and I always had the following problem with my HVAC system: the heater would heat sometimes, but sometimes it would quit heating and just circulate the room-temperature air. Ditto with the A/C and cooling.

I always thought the problem was just that my condo had poor heating and cooling equipment installed in it, and there was nothing I could do to fix it short of purchasing new equipment–something I couldn’t afford. Eventually it was brought to my attention that my thermostat was the problem, not the heater or air-conditioner. This made sense to me, since my thermostat was a cruddy, dirty old thing that only registered temperature in 5 degree increments. It dawned on me that this elderly electrical eyesore might be easily switched out for a shiny new model. I found this website where some brilliant person posted photos of his own thermostat upgrade–upgrading my exact old thermostat to the exact new thermostat I wanted to install! I followed his example and switched out my old thermostat for a new, affordable $25 programmable thermostat from Honeywell. 45 minutes of slightly tedious drilling and wiring and it was installed. I haven’t had any problems with my air conditioning going from cool to not cool since, and the brochure promised to save me up to 33% on my power bill.  I love that. I don’t love the way the old thermostat was painted onto the wall and the fact that it made a paint hole and ripped the drywall when I removed it. But those are small blemishes that can be easily fixed.

elderly electrical eyesore that didn't want to part with the wall

fancy new thermostat...with paint hole & ripped drywall from old piece of junk

Old Post: I Forgot!

This is a random old post from my Myspace blog, originally posted August 30, 2004.  I was reminded of it when my friend Ashley posted some photos of her trip to Pearl, Idaho a few days ago. Note the sentence where I refer to some “pretentious Latin” disturbing my efforts to post a photo. In 2004 I had never heard of lorem ipsum.

I totally forgot the weird shit that happened on Friday! Kelly and I drove to Horseshoe Bend, had dinner, then drove past Black Canyon Dam to Emmett. We were very disappointed upon passing the scenic overlook just outside Emmett, because there was previously a sign across the street that said “Poon Palace” with an arrow pointing to a tiny parking spot in between the hills.  Kelly wanted to get a picture, but the sign was gone; owing either to several steady days of rain, or more likely, to some annoying citizen who had no sense of humor.

So then Kelly and I tried to find Pearl, Idaho, which I’m convinced does not exist outside of that irritating religious fanatic’s commercial about how “the Lord will never desert you.”  Well, I don’t know about the Lord, but my cell phone sure as hell didn’t work, and the only other living creatures around were the freaky cows on the road who chose to stare us down and wouldn’t get the hell out of our way, except for one baby cow who ran in front of the car for a long time.  (I would put a similar picture of bighorn sheep that were in front of the car up along the Salmon River, but when I try to add a picture, I just get a dialogue box with a bunch of pretentious Latin.)  I’ve added said bighorn sheep photo here; blogs are much more user-friendly in 2010.

It reminded me of “O Brother Where Art Thou?” when there are cows all over the road and Babyface Nelson shoots one and I’m pretty sure that in the actual story of The Odyssey the characters are punished for “molesting” the cows, which doesn’t happen in “O Brother.”  There were tires hanging on the fence every few feet that said “NO TRESPASSING,” and a dead coyote was hanging over part of the barbwire fence.  It was somewhat similar to the fucked-up fantasy land Tyler and I discovered on a stoned trip back behind Simplot’s hill many a year ago.  It also reminded me of Kelly’s friend Nicole’s stories of some weird place in Wyoming where there is some creepy deserted town in the middle of nowhere and it contains some force that…I can’t do the story justice, so I won’t try to repeat it.  Just imagine a sort of high desert Blair Witch.

Found Conversation

I stumbled upon this conversation recently.

Person A: Of course he likes it: he’s a good little follower.

Person B: Exactly;  two big trees, five 10 gallon plants, 10 5 gallon plants and one bucket of kool-aid

Person A: And from now on you will shave your heads and wear these white smocks.

Person B: And wait for the mothership’s instructions

Person A: Please wear this tinfoil hat on Thursdays at 1:08 to 1:13 am to receive transmissions from the home planet.

Person B: You will be able to hear the message in any of your three allowed vehicles….. bmw, Mercedes or hummer

Sometimes I Can’t Sleep

I’ve had trouble sleeping since I was a child.  A nervous temperament and wild imagination do not make for good bedfellows.  As far back as I can remember I’ve been finding things that frighten me away from sleep.  I used to lie in my bedroom as a baby, staring at the baroque red and blue wallpaper and imagining I saw the faces of monsters in it.  The pattern actually consisted of intricate footed planters with flowers spilling out of them, but to me they looked like horrible red and blue faces. They still do.

When I got old enough to make conscious choices about my sleeping arrangements, I would pile as many stuffed animals in the bed with me as I could without them falling onto the floor. These stuffed animals were somehow supposed to protect me should some nameless, faceless horror show up to claim me in the night.

I hated the creepy unfinished basement in our house. The cement floor had cracks in it, and there were boxes stacked up in every corner and under the stairs.  The loud, clanky furnace was at the bottom of the stairs, with its eerie blue pilot light glow. On the other side of the furnace was an open hole into the crawlspace. This hole had a piece of plywood over it, but the plywood could be easily removed for access to the crawlspace. I remember being horrified later in life upon discovering friends who slept in basement rooms that had open crawlspaces–open as in you could see dirt: the dirt under the house. How could anyone sleep near that without being utterly terrified that zombies could come out of the earth at any time and gobble them up?

The basement walls had set in such a way that you could see the pattern of the house’s framework in the cement.  It gave the whole huge room the feeling that something sinister was in the walls or just beyond them, a notion that became more plausible after I watched that scene in The Amityville Horror where James Brolin chops down a wall in his basement to find a secret blood-red room constructed for the worship of Satan. I despised everything about this part of our house, but the unfortunate situation was that most of my toys were stored here, in the part of the room farthest from the stairs, (and due east of the spot I had determined the secret blood-red room would be if our basement were like The Amityville Horror house’s basement).

I had to traverse this dark, loathed room every time I wanted to get my toys. Consequently, I would lie awake at night in my sea of stuffed animal protectors, worried that…things…were going to come up from the basement and get me, most likely through the laundry chute which was down the hall from my bedroom and dropped clothes into the basement, right between the washing machine and the crawlspace.

We moved out of that house when I was ten and I still had nightmares about the basement well into my late teen years.  In the nightmares there was always some kind of portal in the floor, or the crawlspace would be open and…things…would be waiting beyond.  The basement had mice, which is what I think bred a particularly icky twist on the dream wherein I had to stick my hand into a dark bin full of furry little monsters with big teeth like those found in the movie Critters, (although there was nothing funny about the critters in my dreams). I have a phobia about sticking my hand in places I can’t see into, like the garbage disposal.

As I grew older the thing that kept me awake in fear lessened at times and loomed large at other times.  I remember vividly my fourth grade year and how a succession of classroom units had me scared of first snakes, then fire, then mummies.  When I was in sixth grade–after we had moved away from creepy basement house–a babysitter told me a supposedly true story about living in a house with a balcony outside her window, and waking up in the middle of the night to see the figure of a man on the balcony.  I lay in bed for several nights afterward holding the covers up to my chin, hands and arms tensed and eyes on my window.  I don’t know what I was going to do should a mysterious figure appear at my second-floor, balcony-less window: pull the covers over my head? I finally gave up on holding the covers after my hands and wrists started cramping.

I still get creeped out now that I’m an adult, especially since I go through periods of seeking out things that will scare me.  I read The Amityville Horror when I was 23, and that book gave me a whole new take on scary.  I couldn’t bear to be near a window at night for fear I’d find myself staring into a pair of glowing red pig’s eyes. Antique furniture became menacing and possibly demonic. The smell of poop could indicate the presence of Satan.  I know the movies of The Amityville Horror are hokey, but if you want to be scared look no further than the original book by Jay Anson: it is scary as hell.

A few years later, I turned to the stories of H.P. Lovecraft.  I read several of his stories one fall and I am quite sure I will never read another one again.  The reason? They keep me awake at night even at the ripe old age of 32, even though I read them five years ago. Particularly a story called Pickman’s Model, which I won’t describe because I will get the heebie-jeebies. Suffice it to say it involves creatures who live underground. There’s another called The Rats in the Walls that involves a sort of underground portal where horrors await the story’s narrator–apparently the idea of “underground” is terrifying to many people. Aaaaand I will not be sleeping very well tonight.