vegansaurus!

03/28/2012

Hello, friends! It’s WTF Wednesday!  »


You guys, spring break is over for another year. I spent all of last week working on things that I didn’t have time for and then recovering for three days because Allen and I chose to go see The Hunger Games at the midnight opening instead of waiting a couple of days to see it at a reasonable hour.

That shit was off the hook (pardon my French!), and I am delighted to tell you that Allen and I loved it! (I know, it wasn’t word-for-word, but I have all the books and can re-read them whenever I want.) Allen was incredibly embarrassed the entire time (as usual) as I insisted on making conversation with the other people in line, and then screaming “Every man for himself!” as I pushed past groups of schoolgirls to get good seats. One young lady got confused, ran into a pole, and rolled into the entrance. In the spirit of the event, I shouted “Stop slowing me down!” as I jumped over her, but was later chastised by Allen for not being nice to children…at a movie about children killing children. However, when I brought this up to him, he just shook his head and went to buy popcorn, leaving me to contemplate my own horridness.

Due to this movie (and all the dystopian fiction I read), I do not have a positive view of the future. I think the fact that the Denver Zoo has come up with a car that runs on poop is an omen that we are only years away from sending our children into an arena to bludgeon each other with bricks. A car that runs on poop, you guys. How does that even happen? More importantly, why am I so upset and worried that it is only a short time before Allen is forcing me into a high-fiber diet so that he can drive me around. Can you imagine the smell? Why does the article not mention the smell? Do you think there might be a smell? Can you imagine hipsters pooping into buckets in order to ride motorized bikes? Why am I so obsessed with poop? Why can’t I stop?

Here’s a question: How do snakes poop? I have never considered this before, but then I read about this dude who had 400 snakes in his house, and I started thinking about whether snakes produce pellets or, uh, goo. Also: Why are snakes so scary? I am sure they do not want to eat me, but I remember my second grade teacher reading us a book about a boa constrictor eating a kid, and I didn’t know English too well and didn’t understand that it was fiction. That was a horrible year for me.

Something that isn’t poop but is super-gross anyway is Alicia Silverstone feeding her baby like a bird and then posting the video online in (I assume) a desperate attempt to stay relevant past the mess that was Excess Baggage. That was her worst movie—until this monstrosity. Listen, do whatever it is that you like with your obviously distressed kid, but do not post it online. That means you too, Jennifer Coburn, and that one mom who starved her seven-year-old and wrote about it for Vogue.

That’s it for this week! Please send me links for next week and have a Wednesday not fraught with thoughts about poop!

[photo by Eric Bégin via Flickr]

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