Wednesday, January 30, 2013


Allegedly imitation is the highest form of flattery...but I think it's also proof that you are having a particularly uninspired day and are grappling for ideas. The other day I read one of my favorite bloggers, Eartha Kitsch, write about celebrating 400 followers with  her favorite spam comments. [Tangent: if you're not a blogger, you may be unfamiliar with this annoyance, but when you leave a comment (which I love) you are in the company of  millions of spam bots doing so as well. Only their comments generally are unintelligible and instead of bringing me joy, they are trying to sneakily sell their site or product.]

After reading Eartha's post and her hilarious spam hall of fame spam, I commented that I never got anything funny. Usually my spam folder runneth over with gobblety gook jabber script interwoven with links to Russian porn sites or URLs linking you to bobo Louis Vuitton bags. They all look like this and pale in comparison to hers:

see...nothing to write home about.

Then, last night after discussing this matter with Rae (of Say it Ain't So), 
I rechecked and it seems those very spammers must have been reading my dream journal, because I finally hit a treasure trove of madness. [Tangent: They always have nothing to do with whatever post they are commenting on. Also, like many relationships, these spammers lure you in with sugar talk and generic compliments before exposing their breed of batshit crazy.]

 Here is a fine example [Tangent: BTW- what's a jawhorse?] and then the site that it told me to visit.

So, surprise! It wasn't a "web log" after all, but was in fact, a site to play those annoying Farmville type Russian! 

This was not an isolated incident, because if I have learned anything- there is a lot of weird to go around on the interweb. These are some of my favorites from the last couple weeks: this talking about sex or cars...or makeup? And what does that have to do with beards? So many questions

shitty Reba show and Daniel Day Lewis go hand in hand.

...not sure why but thought this was super funny
So, I'm hoping the growth I've seen lately with my writing is not a direct result of my blog being harvested by spammers. I'm sure my fellow bloggers have oodles to say about this matter and for you non-bloggers, now you are enlightened to the randomness i see on a daily basis.

To temper the hordes of unwanted spam I've gotten, I thought it would be refreshing to hear from YOU- the real 3-D, living, breathing, pooing, peeing readers. So... how did you find out about my blog and what do you wanna see more of? Of just tell me something fun about your adventures in blog reading or life in general. [Tangent: seriously I'm a captive audience. Take advantage.]

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

bye bye, old friend

Tomorrow is a dark day in my life. In my childhood home, we are finally upgrading the last kitchen appliance to join the 21st century. Our oven is last that remains of the suite of harvest gold appliances that came with the home when it was purchased by my folks in 1980.

it even looks like it is smiling.
 All through my childhood (and up until the last 5 years), all of the appliances this color. It looked similar to this kitchen featured on

As a youth, it was the a teen, I thought it was ass tacky...but as an adult, I have grown to love it and got sad when one by one, each piece of my personal history has pooped out and had to be replaced by something shiny and new (and decidedly more boring and less charming.)

Yesterday I was lamenting to my mom how attached I had gotten to furniture that had been in my family home forever. As I bitched about the haggard looking leather chair that had to be tossed last year, she shared with me a fun story, making me appreciate something we still had on a whole new level.

She informed me that the oak bed [Tangent: Formally part of a bunk bed] and pieces of the furniture suite that is now housed in the guest room/office were identical to the ones in Elliot had in ET. [Tangent: Yes, that's right there is famous nostalgic furniture in my home.]  She said she ordered it for my brothers around the time the movie came out from a furniture company in NC, and there was such a rush on it from people who were obsessive about the film that it was on back order. [Tangent: She claims it was coincidental that she picked the same furniture...and it wasn't until she called the furniture company that they told her about why the delay was occurring.] Through my twisted logic, my mom should be a set designer for Mr. Spielberg.

Fortunately for my sanity, my brothers never housed a creepy translucent skinned alien in their closet,  because we all know that he was the cause of many a childhood nightmare. Maybe with all my new free time, I should stage the spare bedroom like an exact replica of Elliot's room. Anyone got some 80s era packaging Reese's Pieces on hand?

Monday, January 28, 2013

instagram...I'm doing it wrong

As you can see by my right hand margin...I am on instagram.  Feel free to follow me if you wanna see gratuitous pictures of my niece and my doggies interspersed with funny things I see in my daily life and blurry pictures I take at shows which I dellusionally think look like cutting edge rock and roll photography.  [Tangent: Although they are present in my feed, I rarely take pictures of food, because no one wants to see pictures of reheated leftovers. #leftovers #yummy...or up close selfie shots #adultacne #gross #pastyface.] Since my boyfriend is now an instagram celeb and has random followers based on the fact that he has enviable facial hair,  I am starting to realize that I am going about it the wrong way. [Tangent: His new groupies are my new past time. They hashtag everything and take a lot of mirror shots of them pouting with lots of eyeliner on. They're kind of ridiculous and I am pretty sure want his junk.] I will never be instagram famous... and I am 100% OK with that.
...but Newman might be.
 The other day, Jamie and I hit the explore option on instagram to determine what kinds of things are getting 10's of thousands of "likes". Once we saw that it is 50% female torsos with spangly belly button rings and 49% dudes with Bieber hair looking really surprised in the mirror while their iPhone is in the shot, we lost all faith in humanity.  [Tangent: There was one teen boy from Tennesee who  took the same picture in his bathroom daily (or so it appeared) alternating between an Abercrombie logo sweatshirt and his nude pre pubescent torso. He had thousands of likes on each one. I would post it, but felt like Perverted Justice may come after me.] Because I am elderly, I didn't realize until recently that there is a name for these souls that gain infamy on the web for just taking selfies in bathroom mirrors  making duckface whilst having half their face covered with hair.  These people are called site models. Yeah, that's a image search verified.

 After reassembling our shattered minds and picking our jaws up off the floor, we found what made up the other 1% and it made us laugh uncontrollably for several minutes. @thatbucketlists is worth its weight in comedic gold. Basically, people type things they wanna do before they die overlayed onto some kind of corresponding stock photography and submit it to this user. Some of the goals are understandable:
  • Visit all 50 states
  • windsurf
  • kiss a dophin
  • hold a baby monkey (no, I didn't send that in...but I find it commendable.)
  • Eat Pizza in Italy
  • Etc.
But then there are the others, which I can only assume can be attributed to those17-year-old site models, that are not so much the loftiest of goals :



 Now go back and look how many thousands of people agreed with these aspirations. Now tell me if you are worried about society. 

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

space jammin at the space center (part 2)

As stated in yesterday's internet ramblings, our trip to the Huntsville Space and Rocket Center with Brandon and Laura and baby Amelia was really pretty amazing.

I learned a lot and even have some suggestions. [Tangent: ... because I know the fine astronauts and people at the space program are waiting with baited breath for my dear blog to validate their efforts and give them ideas for improvements. I did make attend science day camp as a middle schooler and make a C- in High School Chemistry, so I am a bonafide expert. ] So, without further beating around the bullshit bush, I will share with you my exclusive scientific findings.

1. Monkeys are adorable, but astronaut monkeys are really adorable.
After reading the space center blog of Rae (of Say It Ain't So) and reading about Huntsville sites on, seeing the burial site of the first monkeys in space was definitely tops on our 'to do' list [Tangent: Lest we forget how I want a monkey baby!]

I'm sorry, but there is absolutely nothing cuter than a monkey in a rocket. Quick, try to think of something more perfect than a monkeynaut!! Got anything? Nope... fail. [Tangent: The little contraptions they were sent up in look mildly barbaric, so I tried to erase those from my memory and believe them to go up in tiny little space suits with helmets.]

2. People in Huntsville think Germans are rock stars.
Because of Wernher Von Von Braun and his influence on the space program [Tangent: which I pretty much only know about because of October Sky. ] apparently he is a huge deal there.  Verdict is still out on whether or not he was one of "those Germans" during WWII, but no matter- I mean he built rockets!!

One of the exhibits even taught you to sprechen sie deutsch....and I think you can tell I have a new favorite foreign phrase.

3. Space Suits have unfortunate crotches. 
As we meandered around the space center, we stopped to look at many different space suit incarnations, but they all held one similar trait- a giant "look at me" zipper on the crotch.

One of least favorite trends in fashion design is a huge exposed zipper, so of course this drove me crazy. I feel like they should have hidden it with a fancy cod piece or something. I mean, if any uniform calls for a codpiece- its a space suit.

4. Pooping in space is a terrible prospect.

Being that I am inherently a 12-year-old boy, one of my favorite parts of the exhibit was where they told you how everyday things were done in outer space. How did they eat? How did they shave? And...most crucially- how did they poop?

The way I understood it, an astronaut basically had to tape an open ziploc bag to his butt and pray that his dung doesn't go off course. Doing this sounded completely miserable and like a very ill conceived plan. When I go to space, I will just eat a lot of cheese before the voyage, I guess.  No one really wants to drop a deuce on the they?

5.  The movies at the Space Center Imax aren't that thrilling.
Before going to the Space and Rocket Center, I looked online to learn more about it and noticed it was showing a movie entitled the following:

I soon found out, it wasn't as I had was about literal and not figurative space junk. Laura told us it was just about debris floating around in the atmosphere! Really!?! It seems there are so many other better options for movies to show at at the museum. Here are some suggestions:
  • Space Balls
  • Space Camp
  • Battlefield Earth
  • Space Jam
  • Mom and Dad Save the world 
  • Men in Black 
  • My Stepmother is an Alien 
  • Mac and Me 
  • Innerspace
These films are sure to be crowd pleasers. You will thank me, space program. I promise.

Overall, I loved my trip and would definitely recommend you go down to Huntsville for the day and see for yourself. Thanks Brandon, Laura and Amelia for taking us to outer space.

space jammin at the space center (part 1)

A few weeks ago,  my friends and I decided to go to Chicago for my friend's birthday. For a variety of reasons, the plans fell through and I came to the grim realization that I was broke. Since my fella had already taken the long weekend off work, we decided we shouldn't let this rarity of 4 days off in a row go to waste. We opted to go instead on a mini road trip to Huntsville, AL. [Tangent: I mean, isn't Huntsville the Chicago of the South? OK, probably not, but it still seemed like a good place filler and it was only an hour and a half drive away!]

Our friends Brandon and Laura live in Huntsville and we have been talking for a while about going to visit their new home, their new daughter and their dog, Maggie. Neither of us had ever been there so it seemed like a good plan. Also, my boyfriend has a huge nerd boner for anything that is space related, so we decided a trip to the space center was in order. [Tangent: It was just icing on the cake that Laura's mom could get us in free if we acted like family members because she is a NASA employee. As previously stated, I am semi broke, so this was very budget friendly.] 

When I was wee, I was obsessed with the idea of going to space camp (which is held at the space center for people with parents who love them). I'm not exactly sure why I was so intrigued by the space because I wasn't really into science at all. Space Camp was always a the grand prize on Double Dare, so I probably just thought every kid needed to go as a rite of passage. [Tangent: Perhaps as they were riding their Huffy bike and singing into their karaeoke machine while wearing their LA Lights high tops...ya know...Living the Mark Summers dream.] Likely, I had deluded myself into thinking that you actually got to go up in a rocket or at the very least eat astronaut ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Either scenario was very attractive to young Kimmie...and adult Kimmie for that matter. 

dippin dots are the ice cream of the future, ya know?
After talking to Laura [who actually went to space camp as a child and is thus a certified rock star in my book] and grilling her about the specifics, I learned you didn't actually sleep in a rocket or get to walk on the moon or I felt slightly less jipped in my childhood.  It was basically just sleepaway camp where you could learn about the universe. Also, the Space Camp building itself, looked a bit like a silo flanked by stacks of toilet paper- so some of the magic was definitely diminished. 

As with most museums, the space center has rotating exhibits that may or may not have anything to do with the exploration of the milky way. [Tangent: Apparently their last one was about wooly mammoths or something.] I was kinda disheartended when I learned the exhibit we would be viewing was all about Math. Theoretically, t seemed terrible, but in execution, it was amazing. [Tangent: There were lots of video game type set ups with cycling and snow boarding where you actually manually cycled and there was a hand cycle setup for gimps like me! It's the little things like this that make me happy and then immediately feel terribly out of shape.] It was unclear how everything related to math, but we did odd things like take 360 degree photos of ourselves and viewed our profile using heat energy. 

reason #928390048 I love Jamie. He is a master of shadow puppets
 Trust I am just scratching the surface of our tomorrow I will likely have more interesting things to say... Stay tuned.  Until then, I'll leave these here for ya..

Thursday, January 17, 2013

shut up, ben gibbard

Today I was driving out to The Loveless Cafe to play tourist with my friend Eva,  [Tangent: I say friend, but today was the first time I have really met her, because she is a Floridian. She is the best friend of my friend Alex, but we have been Facebook friends and had a myriad of email-sations over the last few years. It always slips my mind that I have never met her face to face. Isn't it weird that you can feel like you know someone and never meet them? I guess that's how people get Catfish'd, but whatever.]  when a song popped on teh radio, and once again became overwhelmed with rage towards Deathcab for Cutie.

Despite coming out almost seven years ago, it seems their song I Will Follow You into the Dark is haunting me like mad as of late. Ever since dad died, I really can't listen to it without being reduced into a snotty puddle of tears. Usually I can keep my shit together pretty well and I have never been one of those girls that cries for insane reasons, but something about that song just depresses the hell out of me. [Tangent: Ugh...feelings.] It always has...but now it's sadness on 'roids.

It's not even like it's coming up on my iPod shuffle, it is coming at me from all angles....on the radio while conversation... and even on an episode of SCRUBS. [Tangent: I don't sleep well ever....and especially lately that I have absolutely no set schedule. I usually end up watching Comedy Central late at night as a nice segue into peaceful dreams. However, I did not anticipate that the episode Tuesday would feature JD and Turk watching a man die as the dreaded I Will Follow You into the Dark was played in the backdrop. Seriously, universe?!?!? Stop the insanity. Needless to say this did not allow me to get to sleep before 3 AM.] These situations pretty much has made me hate Ben Gibbard with the passion of 1000 firey suns... and additionally make me angry that I need two hands while driving thus can't change the station without running my mom van off the road.

Thankfully Alabama Shakes came on Lightning 100 today immediately following Sobapalooza 2013, so I was was fully transformed from a sniveling little bitch into a soulful black woman. I think it was an upgrade.

Although I have  talked about sad bastard music before here, I think its worth revisiting. What songs make you wanna jump off a bridge? Maybe knowing I am not alone will ease my current discontent with Mr. Gibbard.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

something new! getcha an ad space!

Hey folks! So as you know, I am jobless, and with the infinite amount of spare time, I have become semi-obsessed with building my blog and making it better than ever. [Tangent: I gots to keep it spicy for you folks.] At the risk of sounding pretentious, I have been hesitant to sell out and turn this into some kind of gimmicky advertising machine, but sometimes you see an opportunity for growth and you can either grab it by the balls or watch it pass you by.  [Tangent: For some inexplicable reason, my readership has pretty much doubled in the last 3 months. I wish I could say that my writing has just become exponentially better...but it hasn't. It's the same.]

I have seen how many other blogs I read have benefited from mutual ad space sharing and ad sales or how many have gotten cool opportunities to review products and attend events. Frankly, I want in on that action.

Starting this month, I am opening up my blog to advertisers. [Tangent: ...and I don't mean Coca-Cola and Nike....who are we kidding? This is a blog.] After several hours of googling and emailing and trial and error, I added the SPONSOR ME button above, which will now be a permanent fixture on my site.

As you will see below, because I am starting out and still working out the kinks- my monthly rates are super reasonable. Also, I am game for a ad swap, just email me and we can tit for tat it. [Tangent: Eww...I really hate that phrase.]

Wanna give your blog/website/small business/etsy a little extra exposure?

...then advertise with that girl in the wheelchair!

Daily, my little blog gets 400-500 hits, which would be 400-500 people that may not know about your business otherwise. Because I am just starting out, my rates are bargain basement and a great way to get your name out their for the starting price of a fast food combo meal! It also will afford me the opportunity to pay for advertising on other sites. It all goes full circle.

Here are some insights about my site:

On Facebook, that girl in the wheelchair currently boasts 245 "likes" with a weekly total reach of about 300.

Through Google friend connect, my blog has 78 regular followers and is linked through several other popular Nashville blogs.

This site also have 21 followers on Bloglovin,  making it the number #384 blog in the entertainment category.

My primary readers are generally in the 25-34 range, but my readers are really a diverse mixed bag demographically.
 This site is also marked for growth. Each month the popularity grows leaps and bounds, and I fully expect this trend to continue.

[Product Integration/Personal Product Review] I am constantly looking for cool things to share with my readersIf you have an amazing service or product (especially in the Nashville area), please feel free to share it with me via email []. Although, I reserve the right to choose or not choose your product, you never know! It could be exactly something that my readership needs to know about.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013 tasty

In the last few years, my viewing habits have matured...slightly. Still loyal to my reality TV, but I have made the jump from Real World/Road Rules Challenges to basically anything on Bravo or TLC. [Tangent: Some would argue that this is not a sign of maturity, but frankly, as in AA, you must embrace the steps and take each milestone at a time.] In fact, MTV has basically fallen off my radar. All the new teen moms are unfamiliar to me and the seven strangers picked to live together are all. well, strangers. [Tangent: Frankly, as someone born in '82,  I feel like I can't relate as well to people born in the 1990s...which is the key demo of MTV.]

There is one exception, however, because I am slightly more than unhealthily obsessed with Catfish: The TV Series. If you don't watch, then clearly there is a void in your life and you need to remedy it next Monday evening. Basically, it's about people in online relationships, and without too many spoilers....the people NEVER match what they are portraying on their profiles.

 If you watched the documentary with the name....its basically the same idea, but now hottie Jew-tastic Nev is not the one being duped; he is the one dropping truth bombs on these lost souls who think they are cyber chatting with Miss Teen USA. [Tangent: Yes, its true, I have some strange infatuation with Nev, even though my boyfriend pointed out that this host with the most has...wait for it...a tramp stamp. I try to ignore that detail, so my C list celebrity crush will stay in tact. I mean he still looks like Aladdin.]  The concept is spellbinding to me and I am in disbelief that it has not gotten more critical acclaim because in my opinion it is the Homeland of basic cable. 

The first episode I saw featured a really chipper cheerleader/sorority gal type who was fb dating a guy who claimed to be a dude named Jamison who is a model/aspiring physical therapist/production assistant on Chelsea Lately.  REALLY?!? That, in no way even sounds like a real person. Another episode was about a extremely awkward 19-year-old who thought he was dating a 28-year-old former playmate. Even after about 900 red flags have been thrown, the lovestruck remain oblivious. Soon, they learn that the boy they have been mooning over is really a bored lesbian or someone they know who is just playing an elaborate practical joke.  [Tangent: This series makes me feel like I should start reverse google image searching everyone in my life to make sure I am not being catfish'd. In fact, I have reverse image searched my blog masthead photo to make sure my likeness is not being used to promote a mail order bride service in Albania. Thankfully, it is not. Thanks googles!]

 Since I am currently between jobs and looking for a hobby,  maybe I should start catfish'ing people. I mean clearly its popular among the kiddos. [Tangent: Plus, I have experience...well sort of. When the internet was still a new concept, I remember going into chat rooms with my friends and lying to people we met online. Although, we did the opposite of that stuff from the stuff you see on TV.  Distinctly, as a 15 year old, I remember trying to make myself as undesirable as possible, telling weirdos that I was a 400 lb guinea pig breeder and such. My apologies to those readers who fit this profile, but let's be honest- its not a demographic that a lot of people are hot for.] I guess I would start off my deciding who I wanted to be and mining the wasteland that is myspace for suitable profile pictures. Eh, who are we kidding...I am too lazy to keep up that ruse, but for now it will remain on the back burner. Perhaps there is an easier way, less humiliating way to meet Nev. 

Monday, January 14, 2013

mangia! mangia!

*Just FYI- my phone died as the first appetizer rolled onto the table, so I am unable to supply you with the typical blog graphic food pornography that you are accustomed to. However, I am not above just giving you descriptions and photos I have bogarted from google image search. Here is one of the only pictures we took all night, and food is not even in the picture [Tangent: Jamie has become really obsessed with bow ties lately and is stoked that he had an opportunity to showcase his new one.]:

All of my friends are turning 30 lately, so that means party after party after party. For my one of my oldest dearest, most republican friend Courtney's dirty 30, she opted to go to Mangia Nashville [actually located in Franklin, oddly enough], a place that I have been itching to try for about a year. [Tangent: Because I am dating a 34- year-old with the mind of a 12-year-old, he only referred to it as Mangina all evening, so if I slip up and refer to it as such- it's likely because that's all we called it all evening.] This is basically all I knew about it prior to eating there:

1. It's Italian.
2. There is random singing and dancing.
3. There is limited seating so you need a reservation.
4. It is pricey.
5. There is a shit ton of food. 

Seriously, this is all I had to go on. Basically it is a multi-course Italian meal that is $45 per person.  The menu is set and rotates seasonally and there is constantly some kind of entertainment popping out at you from all sides. What I didn't know is that by day, Magina [Mangina] is The Cool Cafe, which is basically a non-descript strip mall meat and three. Jamie and I got a smidge turned around and basically just ended up stumbling upon it. [Tangent: I pulled over in a strip mall to call my friends and find out where the hell Mangia was located, and it turned out we were there. The restaurant kinda looked like an adult video store or meth lab front from the outside because of all the windows covered with black papers. Thankfully, it was much warmer and decidedly less likely to offer me something X-rated once we entered the doors.]

All of my preconcieved notions were correct. There was a LOT of food and thankfully we had a large party so didn't have to share a table with randoms, which would have made for a pretty awkward evening. [Tangent: It's like when you have a family sitting next to you at a hibachi restaurant and you feel like you can't talk about anything fun all evening because Junior is staring you down as you shovel stir fry in your mouth.]  Also, there is a lot going on. Congo lines, sing-a-longs and the Godfather playing on several screens scattered throughout the restaurant.

clearly stolen from google.
 If you have a pretty open palette, you will absolutely get your $45 dollars worth and leave feeling stuffed beyond capacity. This is the menu we sampled.

For the most part the food was super yummy, but I would be interested in going when they swap their menu out, because the rosemary lemon chicken and vegetables were just meh. [Tangent: I was kinda embaressed because the super jovial chef probably saw me salt and peppering those bad boys and I know that's as good as giving him the middle finger. Not my intention...I just needed some more flava!] 

The pasta and appetizers were clearly my favorite parts, because seriously who doesn't love carbs and tiny food with dipping sauces? The lemon rissoto cakes are something I wish I had on hand at all times. Yum....Mangina Mayonaise! And, as a self proclaimed expert on mozzerella sticks, their Mozzerella in Carrozza were the best I've ever had.

Overall, I think its something that is fun and definitely worth a trip, but bear in mind that the $45 goes partly towards atmosphere. [Tangent: Like it's not unusual to see middle aged women doing a modified electric slide through the middle of the restaurant to "That's Amore!"] Unlike most of my friends who work in restaurants, these servers seemed to actually be thoroughly enjoying their jobs [Tangent: Weird! I know.]  even though they had to "Cold Stone Creamery Style" sing sporadically through their shift. It was almost like eating on a cruise ship...I say that in the most complementary way possible.

Also, make sure you block out a good 3 hours plus for this tour de flavor and save zeppole for breakfast the next morning. They are delightful with a cup of coffee...and you will be stuffed.

Happy eating folks.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

you sickos...I love you.

If you are my aunt Barbara or my former HR director or have ever known me in an educational or professional setting- please excuse the blue subject material you are about to digest. Please know my readers are the ones causing this ballyhoo. My sick twisted, deliciously ridiculous readers!!!

My favorite thing to nerd out with my fellow bloggers about is my analytics page. I know you guys don't get to see that aspect of "that girl in the wheelchair" but I wish you could. It's bonkers. I realize it's supposed to answer questions like "who's my demographic" and " how are they accessing my blog?" But instead it just opens up a shit storm of questions mostly about the sanity of you fine folks and why the hell I'm such a freak magnet. [Tangent: ...not that I'm complaining- you freaks are clearly my people.]

In the last month- my blog has basically doubled its hits on a daily basis and I am up to 21 followers on the site to become the #382 blog in the entertainment category, which is apparently not a very hotly contested area of blog interest. [Tangent: My friends who are bloggers in other genres have triple my followers and a much lower ranking. It's like being in a beauty pageant with just 2 contestants, which I've done...and I was runner up. Seriously, you are looking at second in line to Ms Junior Miss Wheelchair Tennessee 2000. Try not to be green with envy. ] I have no idea what's caused sudden jumps like this, but I'm okay with it, even if I'm just getting weird feeds from worrisome spam sites with twilighty names.

why the boom at midnight, folks!? was my post on game shows that viral?!?!
yep, villians and zombies and vamps...those are my peeps.

Also, the weird google search terms just keep coming and really make me happy that I've kept this blog afloat. For this reason I've decided to reward you sick bastards with what you clearly wanna see....

When you google this: 

I am assuming you are looking for this.  And, I am all about giving you loyal readers what you are clearly begging to see.

 Then there are those that are more oddly specific with their queries. [Tangent: try to ignore fat adult baby...which is strangely enough not uncommon for me to see in my keyword search analytics.]

Thankfully, I Lauren at  Old Red Boots, helped me out with this one so those 2 people who googled "bowling cartoon penis" would not be left out in the cold. Thanks Lauren for helping out!

Also, I like to think better of those that are looking for things like this...

I like to just think you are a feline enthusiast and not just a run-of-the-mill internet perv.

So, what I guess I am trying to say is that I love you weirdos. You brighten my day with your raging strangeness...and even though you were likely highly disappointed by the content of my blog not matching my intended purpose- I still appreciate your traffic.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

i lost on jeopardy, baby

My bucket list is a shallow one. The things I want to do are pretty reasonable: put some stamps in my passport; have my makeup done by a drag queen..etc.  However, "be a contestant on a game show" is one I just can't seem to cross off.  [Tangent: We all know that I have a not-so-guilty love of all things involving trivia, time limits or lightning rounds. I mean, I have dedicated blogs to my weird obsession with Supermarket Sweep, Family Feud and Let's Make a Deal.]

In college, my neighbor and I were first in line when the Wheel Mobile visited the MTSU campus one Saturday. Although I think Wheel of Fortune takes little to no skill, and I was unsure if I would even be able to reach the big wheel to “give it a spin,” I saw it a means to reaching my goal . Sadly, after watching some local factory workers miss the obvious ‘Before and After’ clues, we didn’t even get called to the stage, and all I got was a Wheel of Fortune retractable pen, which went Bankrupt the second time I used it.

I should have learned my lesson, because the previous summer, when I was fresh outta High School and possibly still sporting do rags as a fashion statement, my dad and I on an adventure endured heat stroke and a self-inflicted bout of heartburn to try out for Who Wants to be a Millionaire? (This was during the pre-Meridith Vierra days; The Regis Philbin hosted hayday of the series.).  I apparently did pretty well on all the written tests because I made it all the way to the judging panel and have been wading in the contestant pool for the last 9 years. Perhaps they were concerned about boosting my ass into the high stool or that the scary over dramatic lighting might induce seizure, which, let’s be honest, are valid concerns.

Third times a charm, right? I thought so, anyway, because last week I decided to sign up for Jeopardy after seeing on last week's airing that they were looking for contestants in the Nashville area. Immediately, I went to the website and signed up to take the online smartness test. [Tangent: I am pretty delusional. Apparently I assumed the categories were gonna be "90s Simpsons episodes," "Song titles" and "John Stamos" and had not prepared myself for all the questions that might require knowledge of The Bible or Geography. Yikes.

etsy gold.
Yesterday, I finally took the test which consisted of about 50 questions, which made me feel like I should be back on the short bus. [Tangent: It's the same defeated feeling I get when I leave 5 pegs on the peg board at Cracker Barrell. That's worse than an ignor-a-moose. It's so dumb there is no witty put down inscribed on the wood. That's a rough feeling. ] If you ever want to be put into your place go and take the practice tests online.  You may think you are such a trivia master when you are at home sweeping the  categories "John Hughs films" or "Fast Food Jingles,"  but then a moustache-less Alex Trebek will bitch slap you into submission. He'll make you realize in his condescending manner that you are not as smart as you thought you were. Take em out, Weird Al!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...