Thursday, December 30, 2010

Glitterfy Your Life

I love doing crafts, mostly because it makes me feel like I am talented. The trick is to never start anything that will take very long; knitting is not my forte. Needless to say my crafts are more or less coloring birthday cards. The beauty of short projects is that you get to see the finished product right before you under fifteen minutes (or fifteen seconds if it's particularly abstract). At my church the ladies have a craft night that I attend about once every five years and though it is fun doing crafts with other people it is also very dangerous. Glue GUNS? Hello?! Scissors? Scissors are just two ninja knives stuck together disguised as a helpful appliance. 

Monday, December 20, 2010

Real Christmas Vs. Fake Christmas in an Ultimate Fighting Death Match

I love Christmas!!!!!!!!! It's the best thing that ever existed. None of this "Happy Holidays" or "Seasons's Greetings" nonsense. I hope your holidays are happy too: summer holidays, Easter holidays, Halloween, even Labor Day (what is Labor Day anyway??? ... I just looked it up. It's in honor of "labor" or working people. So not for couch potatoes - that's a different holiday). And I'm glad the season is polite enough to give me its greetings but when the twinkling lights are turned on because actually they've been up all year, and bizarrely we start chopping down trees to put them in our house because I guess it's not enough that they stay outside and our house plants just aren't cutting it, I preserve the right to hear Merry Christmas or even Happy Christmas if you are British and weird. When I see or hear Happy Holidays all I see is the oppression of my freedom as a Christmasian, regardless of my beliefs. And when I hear someone say "Happy Holidays you wonderful person!" (which happens quite a lot) I want to say, "Sorry? I didn't catch that. I think you meant to say Merry Christmas but forgot what it was called?" or "Don't be afraid! You are free to speak it's name!" I refuse to acknowledge that it has anything to do with religious differences (which it does, a lot) and I doubt whether on Christmas morning the children of those politically correct parents are going to want very much to say, "It's the Season! Yay!" when all the other kids are saying, "It's Christmas! Hip-hip-hoorayray!"

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Robots: Evil or Good? What your parents never told you.

I know I'm a little late flying the Battlestar spaceship, but I've recently started watching Battlestar Galactica and am beginning to suspect that many people I know are actually cylons. Possibly myself. Probably my dog and 100% positive Lady Gaga (it's true). If you don't know, cylons are robots, but they can look like humans, so that pretty much kills mankind's chances right there. But don't start turning on each other because some people are actually cylons and don't even know it. Really we're probably all cylons. But tell me this, what is the good in being a robot if you don't even know you are? The cylons were not very smart when they implemented that part of the plan. Yes they get to feel all the good emotions of being human, but they also have to feel all the crappy ones and have all the same problems too. If I made robots that looked like humans they sure as heck wouldn't have to go to the bathroom. They would be indestructible and not feel pain, and they wouldn't put on clothes and be insecure about whether they look fat (I have no idea if any of those statements are true of cylons. Battlestar Galactica hasn't covered all the specifics in the everyday life of a cylon yet, but I'm sure they'll get around to that eventually. Besides, for all I know regular old robots think they look fat in their metal coverings too).

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


Don't you hate those people who show up late to things, as if they can't be bothered to be there on time like you? Annoying isn't it? Arrogant so-and-so's.

JUST SHUT UP, OKAY?! Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, those people were actually born in the wrong era? I can only speak for myself, but I was originally supposed to be born on a farm in the early 1800's. I got lost in translation somewhere between inception and conception and wound up in 1987 not on a farm, surrounded by time-obsessed busybodies. Let me give you a little history lesson to help you better understand.

History Lesson With Faith
You see, back then time didn't exist. There was no clock you were a slave to. You were just either born a slave or not, but the clock was never master. Everyone was like, "Hey, Jo, I'll meet you by that rock when the sun is halfway in the sky." And even then you might be late because you had to tend the cows, and you know how cows are, very inconsiderate. They know when you have some place to be.