Monthly Archives: December 2013

you make me smile / use me

(How’s that for an attention-grabbing title?)

So I just did the sort-of-shameful-one-upping thing where a friend posts a song on their Facebook page and I reply with another song and blah-de-blah. Except in the process of finding the specific video I want to post, I rediscovered a million-zillion more gems (of which I’ve posted plenty, I’m sure), including this one:

If you’re in a hurry, and just want to hear some good music that you recognize, skip to about 7:50 in. If you’ve got time for some genuine musical enjoyment, start at the beginning (actually, check out part one here, then come back to this).

This entire series is fantastic. Just sublime. It is approximately 1:00 am right now and I guaran-damn-tee I will still be clicking through the series in an hours’ time.

EDIT: I just re-watched part one. And I died. In order to share my deathstasy (that’s an ecstasy-induced death*) with you, I’m just going to make you watch this too:

Again, if you’re pressed for time, skip to about 3:20. YOU ARE WELCOME.

*Like, not the club drug y’all. Though I’m pretty sure if I listened to this version of “I Need A Dollar” while I was rolling, I would achieve eternal enlightenment. Uh, not that I condone such a thing. Okay. Quitting while I’m ahead.

Enter sandman, volume 3

WHAT are all these people doing in our house?

Seriously. Who the FUCK invited them? This was supposed to be a nice Thanksgiving meal between my parents, my brother and I. Dad’s sitting at the kitchen table carving up the turkey and we’re trying to have Nice Family Time but there are WAY too many people here. This is NOT how it was supposed to be.

And you all – I’m looking at you, Mom and Dad – are all like “Oh, this is great! These are the people we invited over to our house!” All tra-la-fucking-la, no one gives a shit what Julie thinks. No one cares that Julie made that fucking apple pie from scratch and WHY IS THIS RANDOM CURLY HAIRED BITCH TAKING IT OUT OF THE OVEN LIKE IT’S HER FUCKING PIE? I DID NOT MAKE THAT PIE FOR YOU, BITCH. I did not make ANY OF THIS for ANY OF YOU.

I am SO angry, so fuck you. All of you: I’m hiding in the dishwasher.

It’s a good thing someone took out the racks, otherwise I’d never fit. Still, it’s a little tight in here. I’m not sure we can close the door. Oh, whatever. Fuck it. If you need me, I’ll be in the computer room, working from home.

But who’s this bitch standing behind me as I log into the computer to work from home? She leans in close. “Do you even know how to use a computer?” she hisses. Oh NO you did NOT, Miss Motherfucker.

So. Much. Rage.



And then I woke up.

Girls: a not-quite review of the HBO series, not the entire gender.

After watching the HBO series Girls for the first time I finally understand the concept of “hate-watching.” 

No, seriously: some props to Lena Dunham for creating the most unlikable group of characters ever compiled in the history of scripted television. It is, at times, cringing-ly unwatchable and yet: did I sit through 4 episodes back-to-back last night? I sure did.

I had every intention of laying on the couch quietly with the my eyes closed to thwart off an incoming headache, with whatever-was-on-TV as background noise. 

First, I turned the television up louder so I could hear it.

Then, I put my glasses on and rolled over on my side.

Then, I sat up.

Then, I forgot I had a headache.

Then, two episodes in, I realized I didn’t even have a headache anymore.

Then, four episodes in, I realized I could have actually watched more.

No, seriously you guys: every. single. character (that I’ve seen) is a miserable pool of neurotic, mental-diarrhea. I was holding out hope for one of them, but then he did something really douche-y and I was all like “Nope. I’m out. They all suck.”

Except I’m not out. I’m totally in. Sucked in. Somehow, I need to know what happens to these poor schmucks. I don’t think it’s because I care about them – because I’m not sure that I do. I’m just simply fascinated by them. Each seems to alternate between cartoonish self-consciousness and too-real-it-makes-me-squirm psychopathy, with weirdly compelling results. I need to know where this shit show stops next. This is something I’ve never experienced before in television, and I honestly don’t know how I feel about that.