Way Off Target

I'm not the best when it comes to shopping for clothes for a few reasons. I get impatient, I'm not huge on crowds, and inevitably I always end up in the maternity section.

(Let me be clear, I don't want a baby, I don't need a baby, I don't have baby fever, but dammit if those clothes don't look comfy!)

I have a callback Wednesday for a fairly nerdy project. Apart from a Flash t-shirt my roommate gave me, after I repeatedly requested to borrow it, I don't have many nerdy shirts. Shocking, I know, but I'm not much of a clothing splurger. I prefer springing my dough on fancy food or binge trips to Costco. 

I used the Flash shirt for the initial audition, so I knew that selection was out of the question. I have an Assassin's Creed hoodie, but that's hard to identify. I have a "Its Dangerous to Go Alone, Take This" but even that is shockingly hard to identify in an audition sometimes. There's my "BETTY is WHITE hot!" shirt, but that one fits better in my hipster selection than to scream out "nerd!" Needless to say I need something more commercial and recognizable. 

So where should I go for a quick and easy purchase at a store that's open semi late with decent prices? 

Target of course!

It's on my way home so I pop in for a quick look in the woman's section.

"Oh nice sweater!" I beam, passing the first section. 

"Stripes, I love stripes!" I bounce as I pass the second section.

"Oh my gosh this is so friggin cute! What is this? Maybe I'll splurge even a little...what's this extra large tag?" DAMMIT MATERNITY SECTION!! (This is real life)

Confused, I look around again. I must be missing the graphic tees section. I walk up to an employee and ask about where the women's graphic tees are. She points me to them and I laugh saying, "Oh no, not the section with the shitty cat shirt that says 'Meowy Christmas,' I mean the actual graphic tees." 

She points to the same section again. 

Dread fills my heart. 

"There must be a mistake," I glare at the single rack. This "selection" consists of one "High Heels High Hopes" shirt,  one "I'll be Gnome for Christmas," and one Tinkerbell shirt. Guhh Tinkerbell. 

"There must be a mistake...." I mutter again. My eye glances and hope flashes when I see a light blue Empire Strikes Back shirt. But it's a high cut, belly exposing (who has two thumbs and a long torso? This goof!) and... I'm really more of a Jedi Returns kind of girl... 

The employee then says the words that I know are coming but still ramp up my rage:

"There's more in the men's section"

"OF COURSE THERE ARE!" I shout uncontrollably.

 I look back and swear to God that Tinkerbell winks and twerks at me.

I ascend to the second floor where low and behold the men's section not only carries graphic tees, but there's a WHOLE section dedicated to it! They have Transformers, Marvel Heroes, DC Heroes, Ninja Turtles (The legit 80's non-Steroid-Hulked-Out-Michael-Bay-ACTUAL-Turtles!!), for God's sake they have Los Pollos Hermanos and Minecraft graphic tees! 

A Whole Freaking Section dedicated to all things nerd and referential!! 

I pick a small men's Batman tee and begrudgingly pay the $16.18, all while debating whether my feminism really had a place in this Van Nuts Target or not. 

But am I insane? Shouldn't we women be allowed a better selection than that smug bitch Tinker Bell?! 

I DO NOT ASSOCIATE WITH YOU TINK! 

It's a silly thing to make this a big deal, it being consumerism and all, but haven't the Felicia Day's and Aisha Tyler's of the world been a prominent enough voice to let people know that some of us are actual nerds and can't stand the oversexualized iconography found on our clothing? 

Works for me

Lemme hear your thoughts! 

The Leftovers

Can someone Please explain to me what's going on?!?

I really want to enjoy this show but it feels like I'm watching the second season of Lost with someone who can't be bothered to explain the first season. So many questions!

1. Where'd their people go? - Okay everyone is asking that, and honestly I'm fine if we don't know this for a while
2. What the hell is with the dogs? - Remember that guy who shot the dog and we were all "Aww what a dick!" and then we were all "yeah kill em!" Why? Why? What's with them, and this leads me into
3. Who is that one dude who shot the dogs? - Remember the dogs? We never got a straight answer, did they vanish? Did they run away? Are they rabid? Why am I suddenly on rando guys side when he starts shooting the dogs?? (WHY ARE WE SHOOTING DOGS?) and also...
4. Who is Rando Dog shooter, and Is he real? - We don't know, they've alluded to him not being there, but how will we know? Will we ever have answers, not wait don't read that, that's another listed question
5. Who are the GR? - Who the hell are these people in white?? And also
1. Why white?
2. What does "GR" stand for?
   
3. Who joins a cult to smoke?
4. Why do they say it's not a cult?
5. Why won't they talk?
6. Why are they dickweeds to people?
7. Why was Kevin's wife such a dickweed last week?
8. Why does Liv Tyler care about them?
9. Did Liv ever figure out the why the message behind the futility of chopping down the tree??? BECAUSE WE DIDNT!
10. How awful were they to the minister?
11. WHY?
6. Is this a rapture parable, or is it a different story all together? - There's obviously a lot of religious themes in this show, which is fine, but if they're there to further the story I want them, if there there to divert me from what the hell is going on then knock it off! (Like Damon Lindelof and Tom Perrotta care what I say, but please clarify, please!) 
7. Is it really Sci-Fi? - If it's for realsie sci-fi, awesome, I'm all for it. But you gotta give me something to hang my hat on! IE- Rando townsperson - "Hey Kevin Garvey who ya talking to? BECAUSE NO ONE IS THERE" right when dog shooter waves at Rando and says "Teehee!" then evaporates in front of our eyes! Ahhh, now I know it's sci-fi!
8. Who the hell is Wayne? - You know the guy with the magic hugs? Wtf?! nuff said.
9. Tom. Good kid? Bad kid? Confused kid? Good kid who wants to be bad? Bad kid who wants to be good? - Just give me one answer. A hint, even. Your sister, we get. She's the okay kid hanging with the wrong crowd because shit's gone down at home. We can't blame her, she still has a good heart in there, especially when she decides not to flame the baby Jesus. 
10. Will we ever have answers? - Trust me I watched the JJ "Mystery Box" TED talk as much the next geek. I get it. Mystery makes amazing plot. Especially when you can string it together in the end. But when the ENTIRE story is mystery I either feel out of the loop or like I'm sitting through a Beckett play. We all had to sit through those. We all don't get it. Even when you say you do. You really don't get it. Get off your high horse PhD, you don't understand Beckett, you're just as lost as we are. 

Please. Please don't be a Beckett Play. 

Like...Please. 

The Curse and Blessing of Really Good Ears

I've always had pretty great hearing, but it's not all a bag of chips.

Loud noises make me jump a little higher, people eating near me is a little more annoying, and soft conversations aren't as private as you'd hope.

When I started auditioning I could hear the people in the room doing their take on the lines. I could even hear the muffled reactions of how it was going and learned quickly how to adjust myself. I try not to do this anymore because in general it's easier to perform without the influence of someone else's take.

What sucks about great hearing is high pitch sounds are insane, but not a lot of other people can hear it. There's a museum that I've been to with my aunt and sister several times that has one of those juvenile deterrent beeps. It's supposed to keep kids from loitering away and it really works because my ears go nuts when I'm around it. I told my aunt and sister about this and neither could hear it, leaving me to believe that I've gone insane. Until we visited the same place a few years later and the same thing happened.

There's another one of  these beepy things on La Brea and Sunset near the Jim Henson studios that drives me bonkers, especially when I'm stuck in traffic.

I'm currently working in an office where I'm 11 floors up. Way down below and across the street I can hear the construction going on. And I can hear all of it.
Every beep, every shout, all with the normal everyday sounds of the person down the hall, the woman on the phone, the creaking of my chair, The typing in the cubicle across the office, the conversation behind a closed door, and probably twinge of the elevator swaying four levels above us (okay maybe not that, but still).

What I'm trying to say is that I'm superman. This world is too loud.
 If everyone could please quiet down, I would much appreciate it. Thank youuuuu!

~The Goof

TV for Homework

I've been watching a crap ton of tv lately, and I couldn't be happier to be doing it. That's the insane-o thing is that this is my homework. I literally have to watch tv for homework! How boss is that?

Personally I wish I has known this in college. I wish it had been part of my ridiculously high tuition to go watch movies, tv shows, and commercials. I think I may have been more prepared for the road that's ahead of me, but I guess that's great lesson of higher education, time to think for yourself. 

I Missed A Day!

Ughh! I guess I'm only human and it was bound to happen. I've made it 32 days straight of blogging each day, don't they say it takes 30 days to develop a habit? 

I assumed that by day 29 this would just be second nature. Going 90 days was my way of solidifying the habit, you know there times over. 

Well one out of 31 doesn't seem so bad! I'll just have to see how the next 30 days go I suppose! 

Yay goals! 

Best Day

Pilot released.

Great audition.

Family.

Most ideal day I've ever had

John Cleese: Brilliance

I friggin love comedians. I grew up on Robin Williams and Jim Carrey, but then there was the Holy Grail of comedy: the Brits.

The first time I saw Ministry of Silly Walks I literally thought "This. Is. Everything. I. Want."

To be fair I had had the same reaction when I saw the Karate Kid the week before, but it was still very formative. Or the time I wrote to Drew Barrymore telling her how kick ass it was to see a female action star (Charlie's Angels)! Trying to help her understand that Ralph Macchio had nothing on her!
My fan mail was inexplicably  replied with a  headshot of Drew, a Samuel French catalog of plays, and no explanation. If I thought hard enough it was probably a Hollywood Guide to Starting, but it was hard to decipher how wanting to be a comdey action girl and a complete list of Tennessee Williams' plays were connected.

 I was grateful nonetheless.
Formative as my experience was, nothing compares to the letter this 14 year old received after asking if John Cleese had a fan club:

Posted by Reddit user  Anomatia

I mean... its hard not to be insanely jealous of this guy. What makes it even better is that Michael Palin couldn't help but add his two cents in this hand written letter!

Posted by BuzzFeed, originally by Matt Hyde

It seems clear to me that I made the wrong choices as a kid. It's a hard lesson to learn so late in life, but at least I learned it now. Hopefully I can make the right decision the next time I choose to write to Drew Barrymore or John Cleese. 

Oh the Horror

I always say I'm not a fan horror movies, but I guess that's been changing recently...

And technically, I'm still not a fan. I don't typically like horror for the sake of horror.
Here's how I view horror plot:
"Oh shit! There's a monster trying to kill us!!"
"Why??"
"Cuz......evil!"

Yeah that doesn't fly with me. The premise alone bores me and then there's the idiots that get the plot moving. Whether it's tv or movies, horror inevitably relies on dumbasses in order to keep the evil going. Evil is always encapsulated, in a magic box or tomb or country, and eventually some asshole lets it out.

Dumb Blonde bimbo -"Hey what's this creepy relic thing that's making noises?"
Dumb Jock whose only purpose is to get into Dumb Blonde's pants, (either in scene or in reality no one can tell) - "I dunno let's open it"
GAHHHHHH!

Then suddenly I'm looking at either a gratuitous sex scene, or a horrifically dismembered body, or a combination of the two.
Yayyyy-Barf.

That's why I don't like horror, because it's seems like it takes my intelligence and says, "Hey go out for a walk, you can come back at the end where a dying old man gives us some disconnected advice that sounds like a jumble of analogies and parables that have nothing to do with the plot and seem somewhat anachronistic. kthxbyeeee"

Usually the point of the horror story is to warn against a deadly sin, things like greed or lust or whatever the case maybe be.
But then I started watching Guillermo Del Torro projects.

(pause for a moment of a applause for the great Guillermo)

I love this guy. He takes the twisted aspects of horror and blows them out fantastically yet roots them in realism. It's brilliant.

I recently watched the premiere episode of The Strain. I purposefully didn't watch too many commercials or read any previews because I like going into a show with fresh eyes.

**Be forewarned, I spoil some plotty things. I make general statements but if you're offended by basic plot spoilers, then I suggest watching the show then coming back. You've been warned**

I have to admit when it first started, I was feeling a tad wary.
It seemed like a very familiar set up. Classifying the over worked dad, with the perfect milk toast son and over bearing mother.
 A plane full of people reaching the last leg of their international flight, and of course our two dummy flight attendants.

One, the male flight attendant quite nearly shouts "YOU GOTTA COME BACK HERE!!!" to which the female flight attendant passively says, "Meh, this doesn't seem too important" and casually walks back meeting some more broad characters.
A grungy sleeze goth pop star.
A nerdy guy with glasses.
A little girl in a pink dress.

I nearly turned it off when a giant cloaked figure emerged from the cargo bay, much to the shock and dismay of our flight attendants.
But then Guillermo happened.

We start to see the mystery unfold.
Apparently an old man in a pawn shop owns a brain in a jar and sick looking cane-sword ala Papa Malfoy, but better.

Some of the people, including goth rocker dude, survived enough to coherently ask "WTF mate?" And lets not spend too much time mulling over what happened with the wigs, because it is a pilot... but you know there was that.

As the pilot gets deeper into the story more questions start to unravel. Like who is the pawn shop old man? How is he connected to dialysis millionaire? Why does dialysis millionaire want New York to be covered in zombie vampire things?
But my favorite little twist is when fresh-from-jail-get-away-driver is stopped by the police, with the giant demon coffin in his truck. There's only one way this can go, clearly, as the only way this story continues is if some dumbass (see explanation above) lets the evil go by.

I start to think, "Ughhh now the dumby is gonna be this police guy, who'll just wave him through"
But he doesn't!
OoOOOO!
Then homeslice reaches for a gun
OOOoooOO!!
Our boy Sean Astin pops in.
DON'T DIE SAM! YOU STILL NEED TO HELP FRODO! I MEAN EPHRAIM!
Homeslice hands Sean a card from Dialysis Millionaire, is it magic???
Sean waves him on, thus (of course) letting the evil out, but begging the question:
HOW IS SEAN ASTIN CONNECTED TO DIALYSIS MILLIONAIRE?!?

All of this culminating into the most gloriously creepy scene of pink dress girl softly reaching for papa saying "I'm cold!" over and over in French.

Guillermo. Slow clap.

 I'm absolutely engrossed in this series promises to be a fully rounded story with monsters and horrors galore.
So get excited!

Taco Bell

I admit it. I friggin love Taco Bell.

I know where to get a phenomenal tuna tartar. I'd rather my chocolate with a fine red wine and a touch of sea salt. I enjoy eating salads without dressing so I can get more of the flavors the vegetables have offer. I'm saying this because I want you to know, I do enjoy classy food.
But then....

Taco Bell is like the abusive boyfriend I can't get enough of. If an abusive boyfriend was capable of giving you sudden, and unnecessary, diarrhea.

 Every time I go back to it I rarely regret it. You know, whilst eating it. Of course 15 to 20 minutes later I wonder what the hell is wrong with me, but I go back anyway.

I will order way too much. As in a quesadilla meal plus burritos, plus chalupas, plus supreme tacos. I can't get enough! I have ordered so much a few times I've taken to having fake conversations on my phone as I pick up the food.

"What's that? Yeah I'm like ten minutes away." I put my hand over the phone, lean toward the cashier as I whisper, "Extra hot sauce please," uncovering the phone I go back to my fake conversation, "Yeah I asked just like you wanted. It's fine! I'll be there soon!"

I'm 90% sure the cashier never buys this ploy, but I do it anyway.

Did you know you can buy gift cards to Taco Bell? Yes. Gift. Cards. It's like a Starbucks gift card, but

instead of an overpriced simple black coffee, you're getting Crunch Wrap Supremes, Grilled Stuffed Burritos, and Doritos Locos Tacos!

I have dined at very fancy places. I really enjoy culinary detail and when someone is passionate about food.
I also love things covered in cheese.
I'm American, what can I say?

But I will not, I repeat, WILL NOT attempt to eat their breakfast abomination. I don't know what the hell is going on there. I love Taco Bell, but I have my limits.

Big Words For a Short Thought

So I posted a fairly heinous fat face photo the other day that's been garnering a little bit of attention. And, of course, I've consequently thought way too long and hard about it. 

I'm sorta wondering if our society is getting more comfortable with the less than perfect way of life. It seems like the 50s were about acheiving the "perfect." Perfect wife, perfect husband, perfect house, perfect etc.

The 60s and 70s were in direct contrast to that, the 80s tried mellowing out of the two, the 90s felt like a bad attempt at a flashback to the 60s when grunge and the "who gives a fuck" mentality came back in to the works. Then the 2000s were the rise of the snark and further into the "oughts" is continuation of the ironic life. 

It's in near contrast to both perfection and destruction. It flips off the 50s whole mooning the angst of the 90s.

So what direction are we heading? A tangential split from the dichotomy of the perfect versus the destroyed life? Just makes me wonder what life this decade is going for?

Hot Damn

I have never performed improv in a dress before because I assumed that it wouldn't do well with my less than lady like stances. I tend to sit in a way that etiquette school may frown upon. But yesterday was redonkulously hot. Being from Arizona you'd assume I'd be fine with this heat, but add a couple stage lights and an improv game where I'm "tap dancing" and suddenly my hometown heat is long forgotten.

So I wore a dress.
And Ho.Ly.Balls. was it a good choice.

I have never felt more free, though, I may consider bicycle shorts the next time and not wear tights, cuz those weren't helping the heat either.
Meh, I'm learning.

This may be a recurring thing. I couldn't tell ya, because honestly once the heat dies down I'll more than likely be jean city, but we'll see.
I'll do what I do.

But seriously, hot damn is it Hot!

The Untold Story of Bowser

It was in the sixth grade when Bowser realized he was fat.

 His mother always said there was "just more to love," but she had to say that since dad left.

All the koopas his age teased him relentlessly for his over-sized shell and acrid smell.

“I can’t help it!” he’d plead, “I have over active glands!”

But everyone knew it was because he lived in the sewers because he was poor.

His mother couldn't find work and his father left when he was a baby.

So the koopas would laugh and throw hammers and fireballs at poor teenage Bowser.

I know it is awful! But this is what children do.

After school, the koopas would pace in front of the school waiting to chase him back to the pipes.

Sometimes, in a rush, Bowser would choose the wrong pipe and become lodged in there.

The koopas would laugh hysterically at this.

 "Bubble Butt Bowser!" they would always say.

After a rouge plumber bounced on his mother's head, instantly killing her, Bowser was like a go-kart off

the rails and spiraling off the Star Road into depression.

He dressed in all black and fell in with the goth crowd.

Heavy pointed manacles may have encompassed his wrists, but everyone knew he was just a tub of

nothing taking up space.

The only comfort Boswer took each day was staring at the golden locks of the new transfer student sitting in front of him.

 He knew that She'd never say he was a giant tub of nothing. She'd be kind to him.

One day he noticed her crying in the corner. Working up the courage, he sidled up near her

and tapped her shoulder as lightly as he could.

"Hey, it's uh Peach, right? You ok?"

As she turned, and whipped her sparkling hair, Bowser swore he saw the sun turn away in shame.

Or perhaps it was just another asshole Lakitu flying by.

"Oh my!" she cooed. "You're a big fella!"

Bowser felt a flare of embarrassment rush over him in waves.

He started to turn to leave when a gentle hand touched his hunched shoulders.

"Oh dear! I offended you! I just meant you're not like all the rest of the koopas here."

A different fire ignited within him, "You're not like everyone else either!" he said, a little too enthusiastically.

She smiled at that.

"But why were you crying?"

"Oh...I seem to have... a stalker. And he won’t leave me alone"

"NO!" smoke started to rise as Bowser's nostrils flared. Smoke? That never happened before. "Who is this fiend? Let me protect you!"

Peach wasn't quite sure what it was about him, but as she looked past his tuft of ginger hair and into his eyes, she knew he would keep her safe.

Peach agreed to let him walk her home as she began to explain this stalker of hers.

"We dated once, a really long time ago," she said as they made their way through the power flower fields, "but he was really obsessive, and we never had a moment alone. He was always hanging out with his bum brother Luigi! Ugh, and he’s ALWAYS wearing green, can you think of more heinous color?? Besides I love wearing pink, and it would always clash with his red overalls. I asked him to change or at least try wearing something a little bit nicer, but he refused! Italians and they're pride, right? But I didn't put on a dress for nothing! Don't you think pink and red look just awful together?"

Bowser had stopped listening to her incessant prattle of color clashing, as he noticed the house they were walking to.

Nay, not house...castle.

"You live here?" he asked sheepishly.

"Of course! I know its sooo blah with all the gray bricks, not to mention all the renovations we have to do in the east wing because some weirdo Birdo stank the place up with rotten eggs! I was trying to hold a debutante ball in that mess, can you believe it??"

It was more than Bowser had ever dreamed of.

As the draw bridge was starting to lower, Bowser noticed something shift behind him. In a flash of red he saw a booted foot swinging towards him. Bowser roared and slashed at empty air, the assailant missing him by inches. Without thinking Bowser grabbed Peach, and hopped over the lowering draw bridge.

Blood was pounding in his ears as he held Peach by the waist, searching for a safe place to hide.

Skidding into a side room off the main lobby, Bowser slammed the door shut and barred it with heavy wood. He started to catch his breath as he turned to Peach.

"Well that was-"

"Are you insane!? Do you KNOW how much this dress cost me?"

"I'm sorry I didn't —"

"Think??" She finished for him, "You're damn right you didn't think! This dress could have ripped, and then what would we have done?!"

"I was only trying to help you!"

Bowser's shout was quickly drowned out by a crash as the barred door was blasted to pieces behind them.

As the dust began to settle a mustachioed man in red overalls came riding in on what could only be described as an adorable dinosaur.

Bowser made to shout again, but he belched out a ball of fire instead!

The fireball hit the dinosaur square in the face, causing it and the mustachioed man to fall to the floor.

"Quickly! Onto my back!"

"But-" She pleaded, but Bowser was done listening about her dress. He could take an earful if it meant saving her life. Bowser grabbed Peach and flung her to his back. He quickly wove through bedroom, dining rooms, kitchens, and privies; there was no end to this place!

He couldn't help but admire the ornate tapestries hanging on the walls or the high vaulted ceilings that provided so much air! There was no end to wealth in this place! They even had small rivulets of lava to keep the house warm! Impressive!

Bowser rounded a corner and pushed his way to what he believed was the highest room in the castle. It was oddly quiet in this room. Too quiet...

Bowser tentatively reached behind his back to check on Peach, as soon as he felt her, his heart fell. He had forgotten about the gothic spikes that now covered his shell.

Peach lay mutilated in Bowser’s hands.

Her twisted corpse gave the slightest shutter just as Mario crossed the threshold.

A fireball in Mario’s hand fell to his side as he saw the scene before him.

In the smallest voice Mario managed a “What's a-happun to her?”

Bowser softly laid Peach’s body on the ground, a large tear rolled down his scaly cheek.

Bowser gaped around, unable to form the words to explain. Suddenly he spotted a green tapestry hanging near a window.

He straightened his back, adjusted his right spiked manacle, flexed his underdeveloped pectoral, looked Mario dead in the eyes and replied, “Luigi.”

The fire ball in Mario’s hand began to ignite once again.

 Mario lowered his red cap, “He’s a-gonna pay for this,” with one fell swooped Mario boinged down the nearest pipe.

Bowser cleansed his hands in the lava stream, chuckling deeply to himself.

Peach’s body flickered twice and then disappeared.

The room grew quiet, as Bowser looked around.

The castle was all his.

Food Fails

This week I wrote the Duchess Riot blog for the favorite eats around town.
Here, I'm gonna do a little something different. I'm gonna share with you the disgusting things I've concocted over the years.
Some of them grand, and lots of them.... eh not so much.

1) The Cinnamon Apple Chicken Dish - It was college and I didn't have many ingredients and I was just getting my cooking flare. I thought "Well I have chicken. Apples. That might be good!" I put it in a pan of butter and added the cinnamon at last minute. Before I took a bite I called my bona fide chef sister to tell her about it:
"Oh...uh...interesting, tell me how it goes."
It was disgusto.
"Yeah  I figured it might be"

2) The Souffle In Three Ingredients- This was one of the Pinterest failed experiments. I think it required something like egg flour and cocoa, with nothing to make the dough rise but sheer will. It ended up flat and rubbery. I think I'll just purchase actual dessert delicacies from now on.

3) Creme De Menth Bars - These are actually a holiday standard in my family. It usually turns out in a three layered chocolate and mint bars, sooo tasty. But wouldn't you know that you should pay attention to the instructions? I'm sometimes awful at that. The recipe called for powdered sugar. I used regular. They ended up sand bars.

4) The Sugar Cookies - Similarly, there was the time I forgot the main ingredient in Sugar cookies. By the way I have a great recipe for butter crackers now.

5) The First Time I Made Coffee - I was a kid, okay!? I wanted to make my dad some coffee so I put water on top coffee grounds and swirled it around. Sadly this recipe didn't make the cut in years to come.

6) Pizza Ice Cream - Do Not Knock it TILL YOU'VE TRIED IT!
No not pizza flavored ice cream. Pizza, with ice cream on top. (Please see the above statement)
Yes. I know it sounds gross, but this was my 14 year old standard one summer. I'd come home from summer school PE (great idea for a kid to take in Arizona, ugh), pop in a Digiorno, thaw some ice cream, and a start reading The Order of the Phoenix. It was legitimately one of the best summers ever.  I also I suggest a plain cheese or pepperoni Digiorno with Vanilla Bean Ice Cream.
Also, this is probably the fastest way to gain weight btw.

If It's Too Good to Be True, Screw With Them!

So I wrote a blog on Monday detailing how, while bored, I had signed up to do online surveys.
If you're a lonely person who wants people calling you nonstop, I definitely recommend this.

Come Monday morning, following my boredom escapade, and while traipsing through the bowels of the internet, I was suddenly inundated with phone calls for Loan and Insurance offers. The sudden onslaught of "20 Missed calls" in three minutes was a little overwhelming and I decided to put an end to all of it.
I unsubscribed, told people I was no longer interested, and "Yes thank you for the $200 Burger King Gift card, go ahead and send that along. Kthx bye"

And then this gem of a call came through.

I have a friend who calls regularly from a "No Caller ID" number (She's real popular) so when I saw that pop up on my phone, I assumed it was her. To my surprise, it was not her, but a thickly accented gentleman telling me "Hello, you have just been randomly selected to be given $9,248 from the government. Congratulations."
Once again, bored, I decided to play along. In a monotone voice I said:
"Oh wow really, that's a very specific number."
"Yes, you're welcome, okay. You have received this because you do not have a criminal record in the past 6 months."
"Yeah, you know that's very true, I have some friends who wouldn't qualify in that case"
"Uh...yes, okay, you must call 206-201-2604, and give them this code AS1063 in order to receive your earnings. Again that is the amount of $9,248 and it is a non taxable sum of money."
I laughed Really hard at that. Not only was the "government" giving me a giant sum of money, they were also willing to not tax it. Wow! What kindness they were showing me.**

Wish they showed me this kindness when I was doing my taxes for last year!

So I decided to go a little further and I called the number from a scrambled number.
Unsurprisingly, I was met by yet another unusual accent:

"Uhh, yes hello. And congratulations. You have called the United States Treasury"
"Have I now?"
"Uhh...What?"
"What?"
"Uhh, yes, do you know why you have been awarded this rare once in a life time opportunity?"
"Scam reasons?"
"What?"
"What's that?"
"It is because uhh.. you have no criminal record in the past six months and you have been randomly selected to receive this money."
"Well bully for me!"
"Uhh... yes. There are a few ways you can receive this generous sum of money. You can receive in the form of cash. You can have it transferred to your bank account, or it can be send to you in a check"
(Yes he said "send to you")
"Now, miss, how would you like your money?"
"In nickles and quarters"
"...what?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. In nickles and quarters please"
"Uh, miss I - uh, we uh-"
"Hey where you calling from?" (I know I called him but I just wanted to see what he'd say)
"The US Department of Treasury!"
"Oh really?"
"Yes"
"What's you're address"
In a rapid fire response he rattled off "200 Independence Drive, Washington DC 20201"

I'd later fact check this and find out that it was indeed a federal grant office, well done scam man, but there was one thing a bit off with that:
"Washington DC huh? Then how come you're area code is in Seattle?"
"Miss, Uh- do you want- you are just..."
Dial tone.

That guy hung up on me! I mean the nerve of some people! I was having a delightful time with this gentleman, and broseph just cuts me off.

Well sadly I'm out $9k, but we can always hope for another day when I get a call about the government giving me a once in a life time chance!

~Goof

** Footnote regarding nontaxable grants - this is a pretty common scam. Certain grants like a Pell Grant can actually be a non taxable grant but that's only for educational reasons. That kind of grant can be hard to come by and has a lot of requirements to qualify. You can always find out more about scammers on websites like this -https://www.consumer.ftc.gov/articles/0113-government-grant-scams

Just remember: If it's too good to be true, then screw with them!

9 Travel Tips!

So I have a friend whose going out of the country for the first time, and I came up with a list of tips and tricks. Feel free to add your own!

1) Travel in comfies: it's gonna be a long plane ride so get comfortable, you can pack a cute outfit in your carry on for when you get off the plane, but seriously, travel comfy.

2) Entertainment: bring at least one good book in your own language. Not just because the plane ride is long, but also because you're going to be surrounded by a language you don't know. Sometimes it's everything just to see words you're familiar with.

3) Don't Sleep! When you get off the plane and get in country Don't sleep! Try to get your body to adjust to the new time zone. You can start on the plane, find out what time you arrive in country, and figure when if it's night time while you're traveling. 

4) EAT: try at least one thing you don't know. You may never be in this country again so soak it up! Americans are notoriously rude for not trying new things, especially if they look different, which leads me to my
next tip,

5) Imodium is Your Friend: trust me. Sometimes you might try food that really doesn't agree with you, and nothing ruins a trip overseas faster than a case of the squirts. Once when I was in Kazakhstan I became obsessed with the fruit, seriously you've not tasted fruit like this wonder that has no GMOs and is from a plant that naturally grows in that region. The problem with that is that I ate too much of it. Way too much. Imodium and protein ended up be my best friends. 

6) Do Things Non Touristy: you may have a day or two when you aren't
working, go explore! Make sure someone from your group goes with you and someone knows where you are, but go explore! Don't ask the hotel guests where good places to go, ask the people who work there. Ask what the best thing to eat is, or where the best place to dance is.

7) Learn Simple Phrases In The Language: Another thing Americans are notorious for is not learning the language. Using simple phrases like "Hello" "Please" "Where is your restroom?" and "Thank you" go a long way. Also, bring a bit of paper and pen just in case.

8) Homesickness or Plain Sickness: This may happen, but don't worry! Take sometime in your hotel room to just chill. A lot of the time homesickness its just trying to acclimate to your new situation. and that's Totally normal. Maybe even journal a bit about what you've done so far. If it's real sickness then take sometime to rest a recoup. You may get that thing that you had the first time you were sick in college, you feel weird and you wanna be in your own bed. Take a deep breath and remember that you're gonna be fine!  Just because you're sick in a foreign country doesn't mean you can't still have fun! Try watching a tv show in your room, you will not Believe some of the stuff they have on foreign tv!

Sometimes they even have better remedies! I got pink eye in Germany, and I swear to you, my host family gave me eye drops that cleared my eye up in little more than a day. A day. The drops were sold at a local store no less. Next thing I knew I had clear eyes to see all the fun new sites!

9) Have Fun: Travel can be stressful. Not knowing a language, being around people you don't know, being in a place you're unfamiliar with, that can be tough. But take a deep breath, and accept the difference. You'll actually be surprised at how many things are similar! Just remember to have fun, it's gonna be crazy, but if you're not having fun then you're not bring back the best souvenir money can't buy: stories. I swear to the Lord above I could give two shits over a shot glass from the country you went to, it's the stories I wanna hear. I wanna hear about the places you saw (some pictures would be nice) the insane story the guy at the corner market told you, or the thing you ate that looked like a pancake but was most assuredly NOT a pancake.
Have. Fun!

If anyone has any other advice for my friend leave a comment below!

Extreme Boredom...

I love being bored. Being bored gets me antsy. It's that guilty part of my brain that overreacts to a moment of solace saying WHY NOT WORKING ON MAKING LIFE BETTER NOW?
It's very loud that voice.

Being bored is usually when I'm at my most creative. I start projects I've always want, I research things I've always wanted to know. It's the best.
But then there's extreme boredom.

The kind where you've done all the stuff. I've written the ditty, I've submitted to the projects I want to be apart of, I've even cleaned my room!
And now there's nothing to do.

All friends were either working or busy. It was hot as balls so I didn't even want to go outside.
So for the first time in ages, I laid on the couch the whole day. I watched movies, and tv shows. (Did you know Beverly Hills Cop still holds up? That's a great movie!)
But I was still bored.

I guess that's what the heat does to you, even when you have the wall unit blasting the most AC possible for it's little fan to manage, it's still hot. My little AC that could. I'm still bored. And I'm stuck to the couch.

Who wants to move when its like 90 degrees out!? Yes I know I've lived in parts of the world where it was 115 or more, but at least there was a pool nearby! Our landlady won't even allow us to use the hose in the parking lot. Because that would ruin the world.

So instead I decided to do those "online surveys for money!"
I know it's a complete scam. I know I'll be spammed for the rest of my life. But I was bored.
It's hilarious how bad these things are. An endless loop of questions until you get right up to the end and then they ask you to buy something or apply for something you're morally against. I had several ask me if I suffered from glaucoma, back pains, and one excessive or lite urination problems.
I'm not even sure what that means.
I did this for hours. I took sooo many tests, quizes, watched glitchy videos, clicked on questionable sites. And guess how much money I "made"
$5.52.
Ohh the hilarity. It's worse than a sweat shop. My email is quickly loading up with spam right now and I honestly couldn't be more thankful that it's Monday and I have real work to do.

Also, completely unrelated note, a great prank is to sign your friend up for one of these and watch the calls roll in ;-)

Sequels & Remakes

I am the first to groan and roll my eyes when a sequel, prequel, or remake is made. Probably because I've been burned on such things like Star Wars, Prometheus, Psycho, and even The Land Before Time. (Seriously that movie was great till they made 600 more)

The problem is when a movie or tv show does well execs or more trusting to have a repeat event. This isn't evil, it's business. You make an excellent cheesy gordita taco that everyone buys, then you're gonna make more of the same thing. 

Makes sense till the script and production are rushed to meet demand and you end up with a dog-ate-my-homework result. 

So I get wary, we all do! Any nerd will tell you how apprehensive they were about remaking the Hulk so soon after the original...uh...first attempt. 

But lately it seems like execs are making so smart moves. I'll be the first to admit when I saw they were making Fargo into a tv I was less than impressed. This movie is quintessential Coen Brothers, and one of my all time favorites. This was like hearing, "hey you know that thing you love so much? Let me borrow it, also I'm a complete stranger with questionable reasons." No please. Don't do that, please.

I'm 5 episodes in to this show, and completely addicted. This proving the point of when you have great writers, amazing actors, and beautiful cinematography, you can do just about any ok story you want! That's why Father of The Bride was so good! Why the 2nd Avengers knocked out of the park!

This is why we can hope and dream such films like the Tina Fey produced sequel to Hocus Pocus, might actually turn out. Why the Star Wars movie will rely on actual puppets instead of shoehorned CG. We can hope! So longer as there's great writers, amazing actors, smart execs, and solid cinematographers, we can definitely hope! 

"Only a fool thinks he can solve the worlds problems"

"Yeah but you gotta try don't you?"

~Fargo (2014, FX Tv show)

Good Morning

I bet I know exactly how you're Saturday is going. And it goes like this:

You wake up on the north side of 10am. 

You're head is pounding, if not from alcohol then from post firework display. 

You slchlup into the kitchen and stare into the fridge, uncomprehendingly. You'll sit there for a minute feeling the cool breeze and not looking at anything in particular.

You'll go sit down because this last event was too much to handle for the moment. You stare.

Suddenly it's 5pm.

You eat something that's potentially edible.

Then go back to bed.

Happy fifth of July everyone!

Things to do this holiday weekend!

If you’re by yourself:

Chances are you don’t wanna be with anyone or you can’t afford to go anywhere so try these Netflixables!

My Girl – Blast from the past and an extremely young Jamie Lee Curtis, Dan Akroyd, and Maculy Culkan.

OINTB – Why not celebrate your freedom  by watching ladies who have none? Seriously great series.

American Psycho – Do ya dig "Schmacting" with extreme plot twists that can only be described as WTF? This is your game!

If you’re stuck with family and bored:

Geekologie.com – The best little blog for “No Ways!” and “I didn’t know that!” A nerd blog that posts all the best new products, science finds, and random stories. 
**Update on this - apparently google chrome is blocking it for malware? Well be careful out there!

straightwhiteboystexting.tumblr.com - Ready for some dumb guy shaming? This hilarious tumblr calls out the idiot things horny guys say via the internet!

arrestedwesteros.com – Fan of Game of Thrones and Arrested Development This is the Perfect blend.

If you’re with friends and/or loved ones:

Drink!

Dance!

Eat!

Get off of the internet!!! 

My Secret Identity

Long ago and not too far away, I had a much different nickname than "The Goof" or "The Tall".

It was when I was 18 or 19 barely on the cusp of my twenties, and what feels like a life time ago. One foot barely in college I decided to sign up for a course called "Soccer/Basketball." They were my two favorite sports and I thought What better way to knock out my PE credit??

I would later come to find out that this had no such effect on my PE credit and I'd panic, take up Musical Theater dance, all while trying to graduate with two degrees.
It worked out.

But being a freshman I was oblivious to all of this.
I started my Soccer/B-ball class and was amazed by the upper classmen that had a handle on their lives! They drove cars to class instead of taking the trolley. They had apartments outside of campus housing. They talked about things going on in the world that had nothing to do with our college!

They were like...real people. And most importantly...
They were cool!

Being a part time theater major, I loved hanging out with these guys because they experienced real life as it happened. They had no clue who Sondheim was, but they could tell me what was on the top 40. I made friends with a few who saw me play in class and invited me to play on an intramural soccer team.

Ecstatic, I jumped on the opportunity with shin guards on!
To say we were a "team" was to be a little generous. In all honesty we were a group of friends who sometimes worked together. It was more fun to hang out and get some exercise than it was to say...play "by the rules?" And I, personally, was never great at the running back and forth over great expanses of space (why I did theater) so I was content to being goal keep and watching our "team" attempt playing a game with actual competitive teams.
Because our team so rarely scored, a lot of the time was spent on our side of the field. And that's when I was given my code name.

Baller.

Shot caller son!
I was like the Tim Howard of our Mighty Ducks team. I won't lie, I made some pretty great saves, and also talked a lot of shit.

I had completely forgotten about this nickname until I hung out with some friends downtown the other week. I had one of my comedy girls with me, and the nickname came as a bit of a shock. It was like pulling out a tshirt from the fourth grade that didn't quite fit anymore, but you could see me wearing it...maybe.
It's hilarious to think that I was once super into sports, but after being engrossed in this year's World Cup, the name came back with a certain amount of pride.
For two minutes, I felt kinda cool again!
ok maybe not "cool" necessarily...

Using my "Baller" skills in the webseries Soccer Moms

Advice on How to Be Insecure!

"You look tired!"
How to take this: You must always take this personally.
Even if you're tired because you've been hard at work, never mention this. Internalize the comment and tell yourself, "Wow I must look awful" because that's  really what people are saying.
Don't take it as concern for your well being, take it personally.

"Did you do something different to your?"
How to take this: Always assume the worst.
This person is clearly saying that you don't shower enough. Take all your insecurities and fill them into the words this person just said. Only then will you understand the true meaning of their comment.
Don't assume they're asking so they can try out your techniques, they're not complimenting you.

"Can I help you with that?"
Interpretation: You can't do anything.
It's finally come to this, you've been such an awful display of humanity that someone actually wants to help you. Gross. Why would they sacrifice their precious time to lend a hand? Because you screw up royally somewhere down the line and now you can't be trusted.
Don't take this as them lending a hand to be a good friend or coworker, take this personally.

"What are you doing this weekend?"
Interpretation: You have no friends.
It doesn't matter if you're an introvert! You can not and will not be viewed as normal. This is never a common question blandly asking what your plans are, this is always a statement about your lack of social life.  When this question is posed to you don't answer, turn around and walk away wrapped in your own self-loathing thoughts. You are sure to be more insecure after this.
Don't believe that they're merely asking out of curiosity, and no, of course they don't want to invite you to whatever it is they're doing.

When someone tries to give you a high five, consider it a first step in their attempt to beat you up.

When someone likes your status, it is ALWAYS an ironic thumbs up.

When someone offers to pay for your lunch, reckon that they're trying to sleep with you like a hooker and this is their way of "leaving the money on the nightstand"

Follow these sure-fire reactions and your sure to be a basket case of insecurities by the weeks end!

Sound Reasons For Why the Sieve is Evil

I made rice last night and let me tell you I did it all without the help of a sieve!

Yes, the sieve. I have never been fond of this contraption for the following reasons:

1) It Steals My Food - Every time I make Mac and cheese, you know the legit kind, Kraft elbow noodles or the shells with extra cheesey goodness? Every time I strain the good stuff, more pasta ends of sticking to the sieve than goes back in the pot. And SURE that might be because I've cooked the noodles too long, yeah throw That argument out in my face! But who among us hasn't suffered from the broken noodles that the sieve has to offer? 

Who among us I ask??

2) CLEAN UP - There is literally no way to clean a sieve. It is an actual improbability. Sure you can scrub it, you can throw it in the dishwasher, you can even let it dry and then try knocking out the little particles. But no matter What you try there will always be that little grain of noodle, the speck of potato, the branch of broccoli. You Can Not Clean A Sieve.

3) Spelling - I come from a long line of dyslexics. That means that the "i before e" rule can be tattooed on my forearm for all the good it does me. I will not relay how many times I've written the word SIV, only to realize I've been suddenly writing about monkey AIDS instead of a receipe for mango sticky rice. That's right, sivs are just monkey AIDS without autocorrect. Thanks a lot sieve! 

Some helpful alternate uses for the sieve. 

1) A key holder

2) A place to store your sponge

3) A mold for your paper mâché bowl

4) An accessory in your trash can! 

All these things are very useful alternatives to the true sieve (your hand, or a fork). I should mention you should master the art or pouring before attempting to strain your pasta using a fork. You should also kill all feeling in your hands before using them to strain steamed food. 

A great way to kill all feeling in your hands is to use your hands as a strainer for steamed pasta and/or vegetables. 

Until next tomorrow, stay away from sieves!

~The Goof

Dear Roommate,

(In regards to your plants)

I would like to apologize if you come home to dead plants, but lemme explain first:

Ever since you sent me a text about watering your plants, I have been vigilant. I have remained a faithful guard, until the unthinkable happened.

One day while I was marathon watching Netflix, and also your plants, I heard a cry for help outside. My guardian instincts kicked in and I recklessly rushed out the door. 

As you know our apartment complex is gated and the cry for help came from Outside the gate! I flung the gate open and ran out into the street, but by doing so let in a group of ninjas into our apartment complex.

Yes ninjas. Stay with me.

Having realized that this was all a ploy to have me open the gate, I rushed back just before gate slammed shut! 

Luckily our over active and exceptionally nosey landlady caught a majority of the ninjas and served them all strongly worded letters, which put them in great shame and they left. 

Well... Most of them.

You see in my rush to save the person crying for help (which turned out to be a boom box strapped to a large trash can with spray painted words "Cry Baby" written on it. I can Only assume the ninjas were Firefly fans), I had left our front door open! 

I cautiously made my way up our concrete stairs. 

And please assure your father that he was absolutely correct in assuming our concrete stairs are indeed not up to code. One of the ninjas assumed the stairs would be of normal size and length, misjudged their inaccuracies, thus causing him/her (we don't know, it's just a ninja) to break their neck. So that ninja was down, but the front door was still swinging. 

Back and forth, and back and forth, and- you get the picture.

I approached the doorway, peeked my head in, and whipped it back!

But nothing happened.

My heart was pounding, my whole body tensed as I leapt through the door and shouted "HAH!"

But nothing was there. 

Everything was in order, and the front door slowly creaked to a stop. I started to calm down as I shut the front door and began searching the rooms. I couldn't find anything, so I went to the fridge to grab some water. As I leaned into the fridge I felt a great chill. Thinking it was the freezer somehow opening, as it often does when you pull the fridge door too hard, I straightened up to close it, when I saw the dementor!

Yes! A real life dementor hovering mere inches above me!! I can only assume that one of the ninjas was dementor in disguise and snuck past over nosey landlady in the first wave of the ninja attack!

Not having my wand nearby to cast a patronus, I had to improvise! The dementor lowered it's hood and exposed its scabby vacuumy face! I looked for a shield, as I heard it starting to suck. I panicked looking around for anything, the whole room had grown dark the air completely left the apartment, the plants started to wilt, when I flung open the freezer door!

 I heard a great PHhWup PhhhWup!

Cringing, I managed to force my eyes open and see that by opening the freezer door, as the dementor tried to give me the death kiss, it had instead sucked up all of your Klondike bars! (So that's why those are gone.) Seizing the opportunity I pulled the hood over the dementor, kicked it in it's tummy, and hulk smashed him into the ground! 

In doing so, some of the potted plants jumped off their perches and fell to their doom! I had one last turn on my time piece before I had to give it back to the ministry so I used it to go back in time and save the plants from falling out of their clay pots.
Luckily they are safe.
Unluckily I no longer have use of the time piece.

After a representative from the ministry popped in to pick up the time piece, and subsequently file a large amount of paperwork seeing the rogue dementor crushed on our kitchen floor, I had a little free time.

I started to watch the World Cup game, because Qudditch isn't on for a few months (obviously), and settled into our couch. I think Time Warner is still suspicious of me illegally downloading tv shows, so I got a direct call on my cell phone. Hoping it was an acting gig I put on my cheeriest voice,
"Hello!"
"Are you watching the World Cup?" they asked incredulously.
"Why Yes I am!"
"We're sending someone to check on you."
Click.
What? But this is part of basic cable! It's airing on ABC!

Next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door. And I know this next part will sound truly unbelievable, but if you wanna know what happened to your plants, you'll have to believe this next part.

I go to the door and open it. And who should be there, but Ann Coulter herself.
Yes.
Soccer hating, rabble rousing, attention seeking, Anne Coulter.

That's right.
Time Warner Cable sent Ann Coulter to our house, because Time Warner is just that evil.

She started to diss soccer loudly with the door wide open, as is her way, which drew a large crowd. All of our neighbors, even the stray cats our landlady is so fond of, came to witness the event.

I argued with her, saying that football IS the proper name as it was a sport invented before our version of football, AND it involved feet!But this played into her hand, she went off on social rants and tirades that had nothing to even do with soccer (formerly known as "Football").

She spoke so loudly and ineffectively that small tornado formed protruding out of the black hole that was her mouth! Each time the witnessing crowd grew angry and tried to argue with her the tornado grew larger!

Grasping onto the back of our already shabby couch (which was now getting shabbier), it occurred to me that the only way the black hole demon gained power was by giving her attention!
A-HA!
"Stop!" I shouted at our neighbors "Stop!" I screeched above the swirling vortex.
"She has no power so long as we ignore her!!"

But the crowd didn't hear me, so frantically I searched around for any item that may be of use.
That's when I spotted your nail polish remover and cotton balls.
The wind had knocked open your bathroom cabinets, what can I say?

I grabbed the items and shouted at the crowd, "Hey! Look! The nail polish on my toes is from before Memorial Day!"
"That's impossible" our blonde neighbor who always keeps her blinds open shouted.
"Oh no it's not!" I replied, "See how it's barely chipped!"
"Well that's good nail polish!" says our neighbor Nikki.
"Yes it is, and I'm going to remove it!"
"WHAT!?!" the crowd shouted. And as they did so the tornado immediately dropped. Ann, winded,  saw the solvent dripping off the cotton ball reaching towards my bare toes.
"NOOOOOO!" Ann screamed in an unnaturally low voice. But I ignored her, and as soon as the cotton ball hit my toe, Ann Coulter exploded into a cloud of dust that cackled and returned into the wiring heading back to her TWC layer. A spark flew out of the electrical socket and a small shrill voice cried "I'll get you next time!!!"

The crowd, realizing the excitement was over, finally dispersed. I felt extremely proud of the days deeds, but when I looked around I saw the dishevelment of your poor plants.
They're a little worse for wear, and very dry, but they're being tended to now. A local gnome gave me advice on some Miracle Grow potion that I've been working with that seems to be helping.
Along with water, regular dosages, and not too much.

I just wanted to let you know the full story, so that you could be prepared just in case all your plants are dead when you get home.
Sincerely,
Your Roommate

Yo Bitch

So I had a very weird experience last Wednesday. 

I've been cat called before, I'm no stranger to it. Of course I've never enjoyed it, because it's degrading and senseless. Not to mention it usually happens when you're on a downer walk, is that just me? 

To me it's always that I'm kinda ambling along and out of no where there's a drive by whistle, or a "hey baby!", or one of my old favorites, "damn, look at them legs! 

Hey! Don't you know what a compliment is!?! Say Thank You!"

No sir I didn't realize that was a compliment. Thank you for educating me. 

But that's typical. Here's what happened:

It's Wednesday, I'm ambling along (happily, actually), past a retirement center when I hear a car bumping some rap music.

Hey, I like rap music! I think to myself.

The car comes to a complete stop at a light on the corner I'm walking past. As I try to figure out the song that's playing, I suddenly hear a crackly voice shout from the back seat:

"YO, BITCH!"

I pause. 

No... I heard that wrong...

Then I hear even louder:

"YO BIYATCH!!"

I turn, because this can't be right. Nothing warrants this.

The car, still idling, as I look in the back seat and a boy no more than 11 is flailing about in his, I suppose, version of "krumping."

The child gestured to a region, he probably only recently became acquainted with, and repeated his mantra:
"Yo Bitch! Yo Bitch! YO BIYATCH!"

I was rooted to the spot, mounting rage for the intent at the word and ignorance of this child. I looked to the front of the car, where two (I assume) parents were ignoring the heinous fetus whipping back in forth, a mere foot away from them. 

I wanted to yell at them all spit profanities at them, show them the thousands of women cat-called across the streets, force them to watch the women brutually called "Bitch" and every thought that crosses their minds when that word is hurled so carelessly at them. I wanted them to feel every bit of shame their son (I assume) was hurling out of their Ford Sedan and straight at me. 

Maybe it was because I was next to a senior center, but the only thing I could muscle out was:
"Youuuu WATCH YOUR MOUTH!"

The child giggled even harder, demonically retaliated:
"Yo! Bitch!"

"Watch your mouth!" I cried out again, directing it more at the parents (I assume) this time. 

The light changed and the car took off as though nothing had occurred. No scene had just transpired, like they were continuing to go about their day possibly to a local park to play on the swings. 

I have absolutely no idea what the hell that was, but I still maintain that I love rap. Despite the fact that this little brat took it as an excuse to act like that.