Blonde moment?

You'd think if strawberry lotion LOOKS like strawberries, SMELLS like strawberries and SAYS strawberry lotion on it, it'd taste like strawberries too.

Bleekh =(

There is nothing under the bed.

There is nothing under the bed, Lola thought firmly. I am a senior level theoretical psychologist and there is nothing under the bed. Its all a matter of perception, really. My room is dark and I am here alone, and these are ideal conditions for the brain's primitive defensive mechanism to kick in. In a minute or two now it is going to relax enough for me to fall in a deep, refreshing sleep...

There is nothing under the bed, Lola told herself strictly. It wouldn't even fit in there, for hell's sake!, she mentally pictured her little bed reassuringly. Its not physically possible and even monsters have to obey the laws of physics. Unless it was a tiny monster, a teeny voice inside her head said. But everyone knows tiny monsters aren't that scary, Lola argued with herself. Its the big ones you should really look out for. Somewhat comforted by her reasoning, Lola rolled over and closed her eyes.

There is nothing under the bed. Lola was cross with herself now. Everyone else managed to sleep without being driven paranoid by the thought of childhood fears under their beds, so why not her? There are no monsters anyway. I believe someone would have mentioned something by now if there were, she thought, trying to put her resolute mind to rest. And besides, people have looked all over: in jungles and space and even under the earth. If they couldn't find any monsters on mars or under the Gobi desert, there is no reason why there would be one under here right now. Does the Gobi desert even exist anymore? Why, I am just going to get up and prove to myself that there is no monster under my bed. Muttering at the injustice of the world and her poor over-worked brain, Lola got up and knelt down to peek. See? Nothing there.

And the monster under her bed swallowed her in one big fat gulp.

Serious post #5

"I hate old people."

"Wow. You're such an ageist!"

"Fuck you, ageist isn't a word."

It is.

This is not a post about zombies. So if you're a zombie, you don't need to read this at all. Like, at all. Look, brains! Over there! Waaaayyy there!

Haha, suckers. So now that all zombies who could potentially read this post are gone, I need to impart knowledge that could save the world to all of my ten followers. Yes, you. You...are the chosen ones. The fucking chosen ones. The ones who will determine the fate of the earth as we know it. An incredible adventure begins now: you will have to fight to protect innocent lives, kill the bad guys, walk with your swag on, steal cars and then drive them down mountains for no apparent reason. And you will have to blow the shit out of everything. The very future of humanity rests on your ability to blow the living shit out of stuff.

I will now stop emphasizing the swear words in this article.

Some of you (well, one of you) expressed concern over the fact that I have not posted on this blog lately. And while nothing could possibly tear me away from my worthy duty, a very serious situation has forced me to go into hiding. Yes, real hiding, with the underground protection shelter and crappy powdered food and leather suit everything. And let me tell you folks, leather pants are no easy business. They make me look fat.

Me, fat.

Its because I saw a zombie.

An authentic, live zombie!

See what I did there?

I understand the need to be truthful to you, my faithful warriors. Never should you take anything for face value in this deceptive day and age (Damn that filthy lying imbecile who told me Pokemon were real. Goddamn him). But trust me here - we're the only ones who have the power to rid society of this danger. After all, if not the world wide web, what other place is left for me to be my true self? Safeway? So from me to you and Google: a record of my first, real-world encounter with a zombie - bit by excruciating bit.

It was a dark and stormy night, and as I walked across the seemingly empty parking lot to my yellow sportscar after a night of wild joy and revelry, I felt a deathly chill in the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man down on the blood-soaked tarmac. Was it too late to save him? I noticed with grief that the man seemed to have half his brains missing. It was, indeed, too late to save him. Something evil was afoot tonight.

But even I was not prepared for what I saw. It was a monstrosity we have only heard of before. There it stood fearlessly, in all its gruesome glory. Over six feet tall and built like a quarter back, it was the color of putrid flesh and smelled just as nasty. It wore the tattered remains the poor body had been buried in. A zombie. My trusty DShK I'd picked up from the last time I was in Russia had been left behind at home. A dumb mistake that could cost me my life. I panicked - he was only a hand's width away now. It was the sight of the fresh human brains hanging from his dead, unworthy lips that shocked me into action.

Did I mention he had glowing yellow eyes and resembled the COD zombies?

In a state of desperation, I whipped off a hairpin and stabbed those inhuman eyes. Even though at a temporary disadvantage, the monster kept grabbing at me with rotten hands, drawing blood wherever he clawed. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he could grab a hold of me and make me one of his own hateful species. I thought of all those people who mattered to me, all those people who loved me (Hey, people who love me! Anyone? Hi? Do you wanna maybe go for a smoothie after you kill the zombies? No one?) With a sudden burst of courage, I leapt up straight into the air, and gracefully kicked the zombie in the face.

Pictured here: An accurate representation of the scene

I succeeded in eliminating him, but who's to say he was the only one? Its a pretty good bet he made lots of new friends before his sad, untimely demise. As I retreat into the shadowy corners of our world, gathering information and more forces, it falls onto you to exterminate this despicable plague. Not many people will believe you. Many will make fun of you, and others will doubt your sanity. But it is a small price to pay (and anyway, they probably already do) for a better world. A safer world. A world where children can go out to play, a world where you have no doubt that that hot person definitely does not like you for your brains. Ah, life's small mercies. But till then, embrace your duty. Best of luck.

Godspeed, my soldiers.

My conversation with the hottest guy at work who looks a bit like superman, the not-gay one

What actually happens:

Me: Hey! Whatsuup??

The guy: Hi.

I don't own sunglasses.

What I wish would happen:

Me: Hi.

The guy: Hey hot-chick-whose-name-I-don't-know, do you wanna maybe go out sometime so I can take my shirt off for you and you can look at the deliciously manly six pack I have that is totally apparent through my office clothes?

Me: Sure, but make it fast. I got stuff to do.

Then I put on my sunglasses and walk away to AC/DC's "Back in Black."

I Feel a Funny Coming's take on Rebecca Black's "Friday"

Go back to the video and notice how scared the girl sitting next to her looks. That's not partying, folks, that's pure, unadulterated, pants-wetting titanium fear.

“Can’t any of you see what she’s doing?! For the love of humanity get me out of here!!”

We are heading towards a Barbie apocalypse. You have been warned.

Someone once said people fear what they do not understand...or maybe he said people do not understand what they fear. Maybe he said everyone fears clowns. Something like that, anyhow. And by golly, was he right. Clowns ARE scary bastards.

But he was right about us fearing what we can not understand, too. Unlike most other girls my age, I never got Barbie dolls. And boy did they scare me. Their half open mouths always seemed to be saying something but not quite, their dead eyes shone in the night. When I went to sleep I imagined their tiny beady eyes following me, ready to leap on my adolescent body as soon as I was alone because they needed a host to carry out experiments to figure out how to become real flesh and bone instead of plastic - for which they needed flesh and bone. My flesh and bone.

Needless to say, I have developed an irrational and furious hatred towards Barbie dolls.

So because I am currently the only one who can save the world from a barbie apocalypse (because seriously, that would just be pathetic) and because I'm nice like that, I realize that it behooves me to show the rest of the world the true, scary nature of Barbie. Here you go, the dark side of every Barbie you've ever played with. Prepare yourselves.

And keep checking behind you because I think I just saw your little sister's doll move.

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Raccoon Barbie looks at you when you’re asleep.

Princess Barbie is about to kick that kitten.

Coast Guard Barbie will polka stripe your ass

Midlife Crisis Barbie looks like your mom

The Handless Barbie doesn’t need to do anything to be scary. And don’t try telling me she has them, okay? She doesn’t. I know.

Exhibitionist Barbie eats babies.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

See what I meant? They're scary and heartless and will drag you off in the night to carry off their inhuman experiments. They will use your poor, dumb ass against the rest of humanity to replace us and take over the world. After all, what's one more human?

Also, don't look now, but I think that doll is right behind you. Sweet dreams.