Hello, friends! It’s WTF Wednesday! »
You guys, by the time you read this I will have ruined Valentine’s day. Yes, you read that right, Allen will have suffered on that holy day of love just as much as he suffers living with me every other day of the year. And this time I didn’t even mean to make it horrible! Damn you cold and flu season!
Around Thursday of last week I started suffering from the plague. I don’t know if you guys have ever had plague but it is pretty bad. Pustules and vomit everywhere, sweat upon brows, demonic screaming. And worse than the symptoms is Allen’s reaction. Instead of putting on some crazy plague-doctor outfit and trying to heal me he makes me a glass of lemon juice and tells me to take some Theraflu and stop telling people that I am dying because I will be disappointed when I actually do die and no one believes it. I asked him once how I would know if about that if I were already dead, but he just shook his head and told me to be quiet because the commercial break was over and The Simpsons was on. Real nice, buddy.
Since I am home alone I thought I would cheer you up with some things that will make you go aw and vomit rainbows. Then we could be twins, except I’m not vomiting rainbows, I’m vomiting the Boca Burgers that I ate for breakfast. I was also going to spend this time teaching myself how to play “video games” on my Omnichord but Allen has informed me he does not like that song. Allen ruins everything!
Here’s a kid who doesn’t ruin anything. Sophia is just chilling at the zoo when she sparks a personal connection with a lion. This is one of those “I don’t know if it’s adorable” moments because she is at a zoo, but she also seems to be communicating with the lion on a deep level, understanding his frustration at being behind a glass wall for the amusement of humans. I was almost hoping that this would turn into one of those Harry Potter moments and Sophia would somehow allow the lion out using only her mind and magical powers. I wish I had magical powers. If I had magical powers I wouldn’t be sick and also bored.
Let’s drop Sophia for a second, because I want to whine. You know what the worst part of being sick is? It’s your belief that you’re just going to chill at home and have a good time, but then you’re miserable and bored and nothing good is on TV and you don’t want to do any of your hobbies and you’re all alone an afraid that people think you’re faking. Fuck the flu.
You can’t trust anyone these days, not even animals. I know this video is meant to be a joke, but I fully believe that out companion animals can drive people away. When I was first dating Allen he almost broke up with me because Ms. Cleo hated him. She would be all nice with me, and then when I handed her over to Allen, she would try to eat him (she is like half his size, she is such a big rabbit) and he would curse in Spanish and ask if we could go to a room that was less dangerous. Now that Ms. Cleo lives with us, she and Allen are more friendly toward each other, but I would not put it past her to barrel out of her cage at some point, murder him, forge an intricate suicide note, and hide the body. All because she wants attention, not because she likes me.
Finally, if you’ve always wanted a beautiful piece of taxidermy on your life but could not resolve your interests in animal heads and your cruelty-free tendencies, I give you crochetdermy by artist Shauna Richardson. So cool, right? No animals are harmed and the pieces are beautiful. I feel that it’s kind of like fake meat. We have fake venison and fake squid and fake beef, so what is the innate harm in a fake animal mounted on one’s wall? Perhaps it is even a good anti-hunting conversation piece!
That’s all for this week. Send me links for next week, and have a safe Wednesday out there!
Hello, friends! It’s WTF Wednesday! »
Yesterday I was informed that I have high blood pressure. The doctor was so concerned about my blood pressure, in fact, that she would not let me leave her office without signing up for tests, agreeing to check my pressure daily for a week, and swallowing some kind of medicine. I was not pleased yesterday and I am not pleased today. The doctor’s advice was to work less and enjoy life more. My thought about that: yes, but who is going to show up for work for me? And who will do all of my paperwork?
I do not think it is a coincidence that this happened the week after Allen and I welcome my former friend and roommate Ms. Cleo into our home. You see, Ms. Cleo (who is a giant black female rabbit) and I do not like each other very much. We spent two years together, and while we were fairly happy—I would supply her with food and toys, she would supply me with bites and scratches—we parted ways after I moved in with Allen. This happened for two reasons: first, I am never at home. At the time of the move I was shoulder-deep in grad school and was out of the house so much that I was not able to give Ms. Cleo the proper attention she deserved. Second, Allen was scared of her. I asked him to hold her once when we first started dating and I was attractively cleaning her cage before we went to dinner. She scratched Allen so hard that he dropped her (on the bed. She was on his lap. It was like less than an inch). The she turned and stared at him until he got up and walked out of the room. Then she peed all over my comforter to teach me a lesson. Allen was not happy about staying over that night.
Anyway, I moved and Ms. Cleo moved in with the roommate I was leaving, with the understanding that I would invite her back if circumstances deemed it necessary. And I hoped circumstances never would. Then my roommate had to move, and now we are living with Ms. Cleo indefinitely. I am probably allergic to her. Allen, on the other hand, could not be happier.
That’s right; Allen is in love with his former enemy. I know this because he gives her his organic vegetables every day (and knows which ones she likes), because he texts to remind me to play with her, because he willingly took me to a pet store and made me buy the most expensive stuff and because he talks to her. In Spanish. Regularly.
“Allen,” I said to him when I first walked in on him calling her Bonita and saying that she was très bien, “I do not think she understands that. She comes from an English-speaking household.”
“She gets it,” he said. “She speaks Spanish fluently.”
“How do you know?” I asked, wondering if Allen was some kind of modern-day Dr. Doolittle.
“Because I gave her a banana and said ‘eat the banana’ in Spanish.”
“And she ate it!”
“Maybe she just likes bananas,” I said.
“Maybe you should go see your doctor for an attitude adjustment,” Allen said, and went back to forcing pieces of bok choy through the bars of Ms. Cleo’s cage.
Perhaps I do. I do a lot of doom and gloom here on WTF Wednesday because doom and gloom brings me a lot of joy, but Allen has inspired me to do a “what’s good” week. Thank god the internet is happy to oblige.
First, there’s a dog who pisses while doing a motherfucking handstand. What is that? How awesome is it? Do you have any words, because I sure don’t. This dog just gets up on his front legs and says, “Watch this. This entire world is mine!” I think he is actually hitting a big area. I wish I could do this, but I can barely use the bathroom and can certainly not perform a handstand. Maybe I will have one of my yoga friends teach me. Then I can blame it on the rabbit and Allen will love her less and me more!
Here’s another thing that I like but I’m wondering if it is OK to. It’s a pack of puppies cuddling a kitten. Well, they are basically attacking the kitten, and then cuddling her. And she’s more like a full-grown cat. But they’re wagging their tails! And the cat ends up OK! And it is just so goddamn cute! Look at their little tails wag. What do you guys think? Is it all right for me to find this adorable? If it’s not, please take a look at this cat, who is more fashionable than either you or me.
Ok, fine, here is something unobjectionable: hedgehogs bathing! They are swimming! This is almost as cute as when I would bathe my guinea pig. She didn’t love it at first, but then she would get in the warm water and chill and squeak, just like these hedgehogs. I wish I could play this on loop. I wish I could give these hedgehogs a hug. I wish Allen loved me more than the rabbit. Wait…
That’s it for this week. Please send me links for next week and have an adorable Wednesday!
Hello, friends! It’s WTF Wednesday! »
Are you watching as much reality T.V. as I am? I’m watching more trashy television than I ever have. Before you get worried, it is important to realize that I am categorically NOT watching anything that involves the Kardashians. That is strictly Allen territory. Allen and Ernie territory, actually. For anyone not familiar (which would be everyone), Ernie is what my father likes to call himself. He would also like you to call him that. At my last birthday party one of my friends mistakenly referred to him as Mr. Shrayber and my dad looked at her like she was crazy before loudly exclaiming “Who the hell is Mr.Shrayber, man? My name is Ernie!” in his thick Russian accent. My dad is hardcore. And he loves the Kardashians. And talking about the Kardashians with Allen. Which is good, because I was always worried that my father and my boyfriend would have nothing to talk about before Kim Kardashian’s sex tape came along.
Speaking of reality T.V., who else is enjoying the hours of cringe-worthy entertainment of Platinum Hit and The Glee Project? Honestly, I don’t even know how this Glee monstrosity is a thing; it should be a crime to put teenage drama club members on television. There is just so much crying and overacting and “feeling vulnerable” that I don’t know how the camera people are not constantly dropping their equipment to throw up. That’s got to be a liability lawsuit right there, and the worst part is that it would probably just give these teenspians (I just made that up! It is a combination of “teen” and “thespian”! Now I am going to write a book, just like Teresa Guidice!) more fodder. One insufferable young monster named Lindsey (aren’t they always?) would be all, “When Rodney dropped his camera and upchucked into the bushes, I knew that I was doing something right. He was obviously touched by my heart-wrenching and vulnerable performance of Katy Perry’s “California Gurls.” She is probably going to win.
There is a better class of reality shows out there, but you’re not going to find them on television. For instance, I am certain that not even Logo (which runs basically anything, if you’ve seen The A-List or Setup Squad) would air this delightful tutorial on how to give an opossum a pedicure, even though it is probably one of the most entertaining things you will ever see. The video features jokes (“I said hoary!”), admonitions to never put false fingernails on an opossum, and best of all, five minutes with Pearl, the creator of the video, whose backstory claims that she was raised by squirrels. After watching this entire thing, I am not sure it isn’t true. I am also not entirely sure that this isn’t just Mary Steenburgen playing an elaborate prank on all of us (favorite actress ever) but who cares? The “Opossum Pedicure Song” makes life worth living!
On a side note, I have no idea how this woman makes it so that the opossum lets her paint its nails. I used to have to give my rabbit a pedicure and let me tell you, that was an ordeal. I would have to first trick Ms. Cleo onto a towel or blanket, and then swaddle her in it as quickly as possible in order to disarm her and make sure she did not take huge chunks out of me with her claws and teeth—once she scratched the inside of my arm and it totally looked like I had tried to slit my wrists; I had a lot of explaining to do when Allen got home—before pulling out a paw to check for overgrown nails. And even then there was like a 75 percent chance I’d get scratched in the face. I was barely able to cut her nails, let alone file and paint them. How does she do it?
In case you don’t believe that animals can be incredibly evil, I introduce you to Animals Being Dicks, a compendium of .gifs that exhibit our furred and feathered friends at their very crankiest and most evil. I particularly like the video of the dog projectile-defecating on the woman who has just lifted his tail. Yes, very disgusting, and it teaches us an important lesson: one should not go around inspecting the private areas of another loving being without due cause. This I learned in preschool as I ran screaming from my friend Luyba as she lifted up her shirt to show me what she had under there while we were behind her house. I ran all the way home and told my mother, who forbade me from ever playing with Luyba again. Which was good, because besides wanting to show me things I had no interest in seeing, she was also incredibly mean, always finding ways to get me in trouble. Moral of story: private parts are private. That’s all for this week. Please send me links for next week and have a non-volatile Wednesday!