Saturday, November 15, 2014


Inspired by my cousin, I've decided to compile my entire stash of Engrish clothing photos into one glorious blog.  I miss Hong Kong, probably because this is a hobby I can't enjoy in the US.
What ABOUT the classic camper van?


I love it when random, unrelated words are written across my uterus.

I mean, why make up nonsensical English when it's right there for you?

Read the ice cream flavors.  I guarantee you don't want any of the Iraqi one...

TWITCH.  Is that like twerking?

Ironically when I would shop for these clothes it WAS happy and funny.

So...where's the Rottweiler?


Thanks, I think I will.

Seriously.  They didn't even try.

A very dramatic news piece if you read the paragraph...

It says "Queen We will."  How do you "queen?"


Get with the trends, you moron.



I'm the worst slow.

Stalking is a universal language.

Ok...I can see that you're serious about this.

Sunday, November 9, 2014


This is something I've thought about a lot.  No, for real, go with me here.  First of all, marsupials are hilarious, as are most animals that call Australia home - it really is like the Land of Misfit Toys, but for actual living things.  But despite their inherent hilarity, marsupials have really got this child-rearing thing figured out. 

Kangaroos are the most obvious example, or wallabies (which should really just be called mini goddamn kangaroos, they don't need a whole new name just because they're small, but whatever) - you see them bouncing around with a little baby's head poking out of a pouch on the mom's belly.  Not only have humans actively tried to copy this (see: fanny packs and baby Bjorns), but it serves even more of a purpose than you realize.

We humans have to go through nine terrible months of pregnancy, getting giant and fat, often feeling completely horrible and unable to control our vomit and pee.  Kangaroos,  however, are pregnant for 33 days.  DAYS people.  Then it "gives birth" to the teeny tiniest underdeveloped baby kangaroo ever possible, which continues growing and developing in the pouch.  Instead of growing something ENTIRELY TOO LARGE to be properly expelled from our bodies without lasting damage, kangaroos are like "oh, hey, I'm going to give birth to this thing while it's small enough to feel like I'm just taking a shit." 

When our babies come out, they're ugly, gross, noisy, practically blind and dumber than a pet rat.  But they HAVE to come out because if they got any bigger inside they'd explode out of the mother's stomach at a very inopportune time.  You have to feed them every few hours.  They do absolutely nothing in return.  Now if we had a POUCH, that baby could have 24/7 access to food, warmth, and whatever the hell else it needed to survive until it grew into a being that can at least walk.  Kangaroo babies hang out in that pouch as long as they want, then when they have enough cognitive ability to become bored, they jump out and start living without any unnecessary explanation from mom or dad. 

If humans had pouches, the baby wouldn't need to cry because it could just go get its own milk three inches away.  I'm not sure about the poo and pee situation but let's just assume something as gross as that couldn't be piling up in the mom's pouch for months so it's somehow evolutionarily taken care of.  The baby could pop its head out of the pouch and watch what's going on around it so that it would understand that it needs to get its shit together before it tries to get out and mosey around on its own.  It'd listen to conversations, learn language, learn what things are, understand that walking is a necessary skill and see that adult humans don't plop themselves in the middle of the floor and start crying whenever they want.  Well, most don't.

So many things would be solved if we were marsupials.  I might even consider (CONSIDER) procreating if I knew that my child would appear out of my pouch understanding how to walk and get attention in a non-annoying way.  Babies can't even tell you what they want. They just lay there and cry and won't shut up until you figure it out. My CATS can tell me what they want.  They meow, look at me, and walk over to their empty food bowl and look at me again as if to say "Get with the program, bitch, we hungry."  They don't randomly roll on the floor and meow just to hear their own voice.  Puppies learn the word "walk" or "outside" as quickly as they learn to walk, and that's all you have to say to get them over to the door with their leash.  Human babies have no idea what the fuck is going on.

If you've ever watched or listened to a baby play through a baby monitor, you know that they just make random noises for no reason.  Oh look, I can SHREEEEIIIIIIIIK really loud!  That was awesome, let me do it again!  Ha!  All the while the parents think the kid has hurt himself but in reality he has just discovered that he can make noises that he doesn't seem to understand are some of the most annoying noises that will ever grace this planet.  Or even just yelling gibberish.  Whatever it is, it's fucking annoying and it needs to be stopped.  Marsupial kid would be able to watch other humans interact without random squealing and come to understand that he, like his parents, has a voice that will soon learn to use words which can form conversations.

If nothing else, he'd at least learn how to communicate with minimal language skills - kind of like when I went into that noodle shop in Hong Kong where no one spoke English and I simply pointed to the picture of what I wanted and said "Coca Cola" and was able to pay by the woman pointing to the cash register numbers.  During no time while I was eating said noodles in the shop where everyone was speaking Cantonese did I decide I was going to see if my voice worked by squealing or making random noises.  If I had, I likely would have been carted off to the looney bin.

Babies should be more like pets - SMART.  Oh, I don't have any food?  I'm going to tell my mom.  I have to use the restroom, I'll go stand by the door and bark.  It's dark outside and mom just turned off the lights.  I guess it's time to sleep.  I'll curl up next to her and sleep until she's done sleeping, and won't wake her up to get food because it's RIGHT THERE and I can just walk over, get some, and come back.

So if we were marsupials, our kids would stay in our pouch until they could at least be as smart as a dog or cat.  That's all I'm asking for.  I don't need you to have a 5th grade education coming out of the womb, but dear god, stop making all that stupid noise and flailing about like an overturned turtle.  And really, the pants-shitting has got to stop.  At least be able to run to the bathroom and bang on something until we pick you up and put you on the toilet - I mean the DOG can do that.  Get with it, humans.

Friday, November 7, 2014


Let's not waste any time here.  This Elf on a Shelf thing?  Dumb shit, that's what it is.

I first ran across this "tradition" on Pinterest (the glorious time-waster I use to find pictures of homes I will never own and food I will never cook) sometime last year before the holiday season.  There was a picture of a stupid little skinny-ass elf with a creepy Peter Pan-esque childlike adult quality to his face and he was doing such things as, oh, sitting on a shelf.  I clicked the link to find out what the hell this was.

First of all, it said it was a "Christmas tradition."  Hmm, that's interesting, not a tradition I had with my family, but then again we're somewhat odd so I didn't doubt that other people may have grown up with such a dumb ass stunt in their home.  Then I thought more - how many people's homes had I ever been in at Christmas?  Had anyone ever come to school telling me what their elf had done the night before?  This was seeming fishy to me, so I looked it up on the scholarly internet publication known as Wikipedia. 

According to the entry, Elf on a Shelf was a book that was written in 2004.  2004!  And it was called "Elf on a Shelf: A Christmas Tradition."  Apparently the author COMPLETELY misunderstood the meaning of tradition, as you can't INVENT ONE and try to pawn it off on people as something great and awesome.  That's like me deciding one day that during the entire month of December I'm going to wear a ceremonial robe made out of Christmas tree skirts and call it a fucking tradition and shame everyone who does not then go home and make his or her own ceremonial robe BECAUSE IT'S TRADITION.  No.  And it's not like the tradition was "invented" in the 80s - it was invented WHEN I GRADUATED COLLEGE.  There's not even a hint of nostalgia there.  It's just a big, fat lie. 

So this made-up tradition with a very vintage-looking elf (ALL LIES I TELL YOU) has more to it than simply sitting on a shelf.  I'd have way less problem if it was a mere decoration.  But no, the elf, like Santa, becomes an extension of the parents and is always caught in "mischief" around the house.  The key is for the kid (or god forbid some really fucking annoying adult) to find the elf each day in his new position. 

And the purveyors of this false tradition aren't content to play hide-and-seek with said elf, he must be doing something silly, ranging from hanging halfway out of the cookie jar to squatting with a fake shit (YES, I'M SERIOUS HERE)
to sharing a jug of maple syrup (?) romantically with Barbie (when he is CLEARLY homosexual. I mean it's 2014, come on Elf, accept yourself, be proud!  Don't hide in the closet.  We've seen your face, buddy, you're hiding nothing). 
 (HIS ARM IS SO CREEPILY LONG.  Also Barbie would never go out with a guy dressed like that.)

Don't think this is a harmless "tradition" that takes a few minutes each night. Ohhh nooo, if your elf doesn't have handmade clothes you're not trying hard enough.  He needs to be fishing in the toilet (with blue coloring and goldfish crackers, I may add)
or elaborately popping out of a present a la Alien. 

If those don't seem time-consuming enough for you, let's add wastefulness - what about buying an entire bag of marshmallows and pouring them in the sink for 15 seconds of "OH HOW CUTE HE'S IN A BUBBLE BATH"? 

Seriously people, get ahold of yourselves.  No one at your work is going to care that you're falling asleep at your desk because you spent 3 hours making a realistic and believable elf scenario that your kid was fascinated with for approximately 3 seconds and then having to clean it all up and do it again the next night.  And I'm sorry, there are just entirely too many "ideas" on Pinterest that have to do with the toilet.  There's the aforementioned squatting to take a shit (WHAT IS THIS TEACHING YOUR KIDS?!), fishing in the toilet (um, SANITARY ISSUES?), another squatting  over the toilet with candy cane poos floating in the water, scooping "reindeer poop" - shall I go on?  Or shall I just put up the link to EVERY ELF ON A SHELF POOP IDEA ON THE FUCKING INTERNET??  Which would be here.

Yes, there is an entire Pinterest search DEVOTED TO POOPING ELVES.  There are also a ton of positions that require the elf to be "hanging on" to something, which always just looks like he's humping whatever object to which he clings (such as a gallon of milk, the Christmas tree, baby Jesus...)  Then there's a really questionable one scrubbing his ass with a toothbrush but I didn't click that link for fear of what else I might find.

So in summary, someone invented a "tradition" ten years ago that requires absurd amounts of time, creativity and unfortunately scatological preferences to entertain your kids with just ONE MORE THING to make the holidays more stressful. 

Just say no to Elf on a Shelf, or I will send someone to your house to say no for you.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014


I only wish I were writing a book about that, because it would fly off the shelves.  In fact, this is simply an impassioned plea for someone else who has successfully navigated the waters of dating as a 30+ person in the 2010s.  I need help, desperate help, and I'm assuming many others do too.

I've got a few problems to contend with, the largest of which is likely the fact that I had long-term boyfriends from age 18-25 and never actually learned how to "date" since I just sort of ended up in relationships.  I mean, when you're in college, you hang out with someone a lot because you have all the time in the world, and then in a matter of weeks you decide if you like them enough to become their significant other or leave them in a ditch for the next sucker who passes by. 

The second problem is that I'm an old fart and in my earliest years of dating (college) there was no Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, real text messaging or the like.  You had to actually spend time with someone.  You couldn't have a text conversation because it took 4 hours to type one sentence on the pre-QWERTY keyboards of our Nokias or Moto Razrs.

To me, dating should be simple.  If I'm going out with you on a first date, I'm physically attracted to you and checking to see if you can hold a conversation and/or are batshit crazy.  If I am going on a second date with you, I sufficiently like your personality to tolerate you again.  If I decide I don't like you, you won't hear from me again, unless you're someone I might run into in the future and then I have to figure out how to delicately let you know I'm not interested - likely by the efficient and uber-mature way of getting a mutual friend to mention it.

When it comes to guys, however, I have no idea what's going on.  Despite the fact that it seems obvious a guy would only ask a girl out if he's attracted to her, I can never confirm or deny someone's attraction to me unless and until they make a concerted effort to get in my pants - regardless of my response to said effort.  It's the attempt that makes it known.  How do I know that you don't just think I'm fun and cool and might be a new platonic friend if you don't at least attempt physical contact?  I mean I THINK people should be attracted to me.  I'D be attracted to me.  So it seems illogical that I would default to "not attracted" simply because there was no outward show of said attraction, but I cannot say that my brain works logically.

And now that we have facebook and chat and texting it seems that all the "rules" have gone out the window - someone might ask you on a second date sooner if they couldn't stalk you online or sit in their pajamas eating Cheetos in bed while texting you and looking at your pre-nosejob photos on Facebook.

I now realize I should've gotten an MBA for multiple reasons - I'd have a job by now and I would've had a decent-sized pool from which to select potential dates in a more organic setting instead of 60 23-year-old girls and a few gay guys.  Once I left the school environment I completely lost all ability to function and now that people have "work" and "obligations" and can't meet you for lunch randomly on a Wednesday between classes it's really damn hard to meet new people.  Couple that with the fact that I have no coworkers (out of three) that are my preferred age and sex and you've got the life of a hermit.

So would a 20-something please write a book about what dating is now?  Is there more to a "like" on Facebook than what meets the eye?  Are texting rules kinda like rules from the 50s about how and when you should call one another?  What the hell do we talk about if we know what the other person has been doing the whole time we were apart because they kept posting pictures to facebook?  WHAT IS THE REAL MEANING BEHIND A FACEBOOK RELATIONSHIP STATUS?  CAN YOU SEE OTHER PEOPLE UNTIL THAT?  I DON'T UNDERSTAAAAAAAAAND GOD HELP THIS OLD FOGEY OUT.

I'm actually a great catch, I'm just a dating moron.  I can happily provide excellent references from ex-boyfriends that I consistently won "girlfriend of the year" throughout my relationships.  I'm not jealous, I'm not a stalker, I don't have trust issues, I'm up for (almost) anything, I'm not a giant fatty, I have no biological clock, I look younger than I am, I'm smart... And despite all that you know about me I am SO MUCH LESS CRAZY than girlfriends I hear about.  I'm not going to key your car if you dump me, I'll just cry a lot.  You'll never need a restraining order.  But dating makes me look crazy because I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON.  In my world, dating should be like this:

"I think you are cute.  I don't find you painfully annoying or stupid, we should hang out and see if we would like to date."
"I think those same things about you.  I agree we should go to places together to see if we develop a mutual attraction that can be turned into a relationship."
"Great, I will let you know when I find a dealbreaker and must end our courtship."
"That sounds good.  I will let you know at what point you don't have to worry about me going out with other people in a direct and concise way so that you won't be confused, ever."
"We have a deal."

So yeah.  Why did my dating years have to fall into such a ridiculous time for technology and a complete social gap between people ten years older than me and ten years younger??