est. 1987


There are many reasons I should be frustrated. For instance, being just over that one year mark post-graduation with no steady job. Personal issues. All of that… and rightly so, I am frustrated at that and I’m frustrated with myself. I’m incredibly frustrated with myself, actually. You know what else frustrates me in my long list of perilous plights?

Not being able to write. I’m not as engaging as I could be and my thoughts are all scattered about. When I think of something to update this blog on it flies out the window as inconsequential. Oh boy. For a second there I thought about taking up freelance writing for extra money, and I still want to if I had the chance, but if my silly brain is so stressed out it shuts down the words stop flowing as well.

When I go through Stumble to look for a proper writing prompt I have to crawl through an unnerving amount of photo challenges and one word entries. The prompts I do find, ones central to blogging, are always the most awkward things I’ve ever Stumbled upon, and trust me folks, the things I’ve Stumbled on to are quite…meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh.

So. I’m at a loss. Any ideas?



Listen folks.

Downing at least five beers and half a bottle of wine does not make me an alcoholic.

If my name was Jeff, I’d be an alcoholic.

There you go, Jeff. A blog update.

I hope you all had a lovely Easter.


Again, I’ve been dragged from the dungeons of my femme-cave to type up another entry.

I think I’ll update with an observation! (Which means for me, borderline rant)

Recently I’ve taken to joining things to win. It’s like gambling, only the only thing I’m giving is my name. As if I had money… First there was a give-away for Honeydew Syndrome if you followed a person attached to the comic’s Twitter. That meant unprotecting my Tweets, but that was okay. I love HoneySyn and having it in print rather than just a webcomic was a pretty sweet deal. I don’t think I won, so I should protect my Tweets again. Where else am I to privately complain about people? Where else? Clearly not WP.

And then a local radio station that I’ve listened to for quite some time had a give-away for the new iPad 2. Anyone that knows me understands that I think the obsession that is associated with the iWhatever products is silly. If you have an iPhone I snort. Congrats on the ugly phone that can’t load flash. If you have an iPad I pity you if you paid for it. It’s just understood that the moment you shell out a lot of money for the latest and greatest Apple product that it’ll be outshined and obsolete within six months. That tends to be the going rate of their new products these days.

Nonetheless, I put my name in by liking the page on Facebook. Why the hell not, right? They had not one but two iPad 2s. What I mused I would do if I won would be to play with it for a week or so before deciding if I wanted to sell it to someone that was foaming from the mouth fanatical or just to keep it for myself. After all, I’m not in the best position money wise. Not yet. Still searching for a second job. Fingers crossed eh? That means that I could’ve made a few hundred on an iPad to someone that has the money to spend for it. Balance of supply and demand. No biggie.

The radio station should’ve probably put a cap on the amount of people who could be considered though, that I will say. It didn’t seem fair to those that HAD liked the page well in advance to have dozens upon dozens entering at the last moments before a name was randomly chosen.

But let’s not forget all of the comments on said page. This is what got me:

Time after time, people told their own sob story in hopes it would get them the iPad.

The choosing process is random. It would be unfair for the runners of the page to pick you based on how bad your story is. Most importantly, why tell something so intimate just for a little piece of technology? Oh yes, it would be shiny, certainly. An iPad is meant to be shiny and that’s how they get people coming by the droves. It will not, however, fix your problems. It will not make everything better. To rely on a piece of technology to act as a snap of your finger, boom-we’re-good is …silly.

See, I’m not going to say that an iPad wouldn’t be nice for you, and it’s almost as annoying as the kids that go “Hurr derp, I’d love an iPad 2; it’d make my friends jealous!” (You guys earn a special place on my self-absorbed tween-y shit list). So you’re the lesser evil. I’m even compassionate for your plight. I really am. I know how it is to be in a very difficult situation…


Guys… just. Guys. And then, when the names were called and you weren’t picked it’s ‘woe is me’. It was a contest. You weren’t promised, and the station didn’t put a limit on how many people could like the page and still be considered. If anything grump at them for not seeing that.

Then go like Nissan’s page, since apparently at 2000 fans they’ll draw a name and give away the iPad 2 they have, but seeing at how slow that’s going the new iPad 3 will be out by the time they get enough likes.

Enroll in contests that will give your children scholarship opportunities. Ensure that they have every chance of making something of themselves. Stop…pining…for…iPads. Need I say it again? Your priorities are a bit tangled. 😉 Keep the give-aways like that as something for FUN, which is part of the reason why even little old me signed up and in.


I have a confession to make.


I am, and have been, just a little bit obsessed with Conan O’Brian.



I look at that man like a dehydrated desert traveler looks at a bottle of water: with hunger, desperation, and the tiniest bit of lust. I’m fairly sure those three are too similar to disassemble but I find it pertinent to list all of them. My obsession probably isn’t all that glorifying to men, and men, I’m sorry. Women look at you like you’re meat, too. We’re even. My obsession focuses on…a lot of superficial things.


I do find him funny. He’s a very witty and charming and quite delightful. He’s got a fun laugh and a good voice.


It doesn’t hurt that he’s got legs that go on forever (wow; that’s something you usually attribute to chicks eh? Mark another one up for questionable sexuality!), and a beautiful smile.


HE’S THE TANNEST GINGER OF THEM ALL. When he smiles that beautiful smile of his it pops even more (and you know he’s in show business so it’s just a routine to bleach molars more than bones in the Arizona sun) against that tanned skin. Even though I’m positive that it’s stage makeup.


The way he wears a pair of dress pants is also…delightful. His pastel colored button downs. Again, ginger hair that looks like it’s quite soft. Tonight he wears lavender and he makes it look better than it does on my bedroom walls.


Excuse me while my mind goes crawling into the gutter.


Although the singer that’s on is shrill enough that I’m distracted from pining over Conan. Shut up, you wench. (I’m still trying to decide if she’s just old or she’s a 25 year old that has been under the tanning lamp too long.)


No. No wait, there’s CoCo on the screen, reminding me how incredibly tall he is.

[/ending this confession with a classy ‘tall drink of water in that there desert’ analogy]

A Special Message.

No, I will not use the Tumblr account I stupidly made. Why? IT’S STUPID AND I HAVE A WORDPRESS.

That some people, for some unknown reason, actually follow. 🙂



This is …pure Tomfoolery at its worst. I saw one of my friends on Twitter RTing this goofy thing about Virgo. I made a lewd joke, then went over to Sexstrology’s page to see what they had for #Cancer. Here’s a list of some of them that I found funny or true. Or not, if it involves lackluster quickies. No real entry today, folks. I slept and felt like crap for most of it. D:

Sometimes #Cancer comes of as a cold person. Just stick your hand in their pants to make’em hot. (Burst out laughing. Jeff would say that this is impossible as I have a blackhole for lady bits… Or something like that.)

#Cancer never forgets (Dumbo ain’ got nothing on me.)

Cooking is the #Cancer females way of nurturing, so expect a lot of home-cooked meals when courting her. (Or not…)

Dating a #Cancer female? Give her babies or let her treat you like one. It’s all the same to her. (Goo-goo-ga-ga, I want your romance?)

#Cancer‘s hugs are world class and Cancer’s snuggles are second to none (You better freaking believe it.)

#Cancer signs tend to be night-owls. (Lately, yes…)

A #Cancer in a good mood is outright flirtatious. A moody Cancer is shy. Pay attention to that when you’re trying to hook-up. (Touchy-feely.)

#Cancer seems to have 2 personalities. One is very outgoing, funny and quirky. The other is shy, moody and antisocial. (That one hits home yeah.. >>)

#Cancer woman love being protected by a strong male
#Cancer show you love, then in the next minute, be cold and detached for whatever reason. Jeesh. (Jeesh. Sorry.)

I Solemnly Swear

You can finish the rest. Happy 2011 and all that hooplah darlings. Nursing your hangovers and that extra 5-10lbs you gained over the season? That’s good, that’s good.

As for me my first day of 2011 has just begun and I do not have a hangover. I actually only had 2 beers, impressive considering I drink more during the casual card game these days. I finished off the year quietly, playing my new Super Mario Bros on my DS. Good game. Lots of cursing on my part. In fact, I missed the ball dropping (which I believe is symbolic for puberty or something, proving that if America was a person it’d be a male, or a confused woman). Am I disappointed? No. I can’t help but feel a certain amount of depression when I hear Dick Clark speak now. So I don’t watch.

The crowds of party-goers would have had a particular pang for me anyway this year. As you know – from the pen name of this blog – I recently graduated. Recently. It’s nearly been a year. I’m a social person. Or, moreso, I was a social person. In college your friends (at least the ones you make down there) are close at hand. You do stupid things, at any time, on any day. Even when you shouldn’t be. You come home and those friends that you’ve had for the past 4 years are all so far away. The ones you had before college are estranged because you went away for the majority of the time for 4 years.

In short, you’re left with a dilemma of wondering if you’ll ever have a social life again. Right now I’m torn. I wish to go to Hanover and be with the friends I have there that didn’t graduate yet. I wish my friends that HAVE (and thus spread to the four corners of the universe) would be there, too. On the other hand I wish to re-establish and strengthen those friendships I had before I tottered off to college as was expected of me. Believe it or not, and… It’s probably very hard to believe to a few in particular, I miss them. I miss them very very much and found it difficult not contact them coming up on the New Year to hang out.

…it’s hard to worm your way back in to people’s lives when they’ve had 4 years’ time to socialize more and make new friends, new friends that don’t know you and that, well, yes. Hm.

On that depressing binge of blog update, I’ll get to the point. I recently posted in status updates that I was going to be more social this year, and I want to stick by that. I want to see my friends. So… all of you should move to Ft Wayne. I have a basement. I can share my bed. I do have 3 cats but only one is a naggy bitch. The other two are sweethearts that will beg for food, drink, and cuddles. We have a penchant for watching BBC America, so yes, Direct TV. The bathroom is kinda small but I trust all you guys. ❤

All kidding aside, I do want to be more social. I may not need a boyfriend but I need my friends, or I’m a miserable hermit that only snarks and spites everything. SAVE ME FROM MYSELF THIS YEAR.