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Friday, December 30, 2011

~Fuck You, 2011

Here we are again, tick-tocking down the last few hours and minutes of another year that is about to officially become history.  And that makes it officially time to say; Fuck You '11



I don't want to seem disrespectful of the year.  Plenty of nice and lovely stuff happened this year.  Trust me, I am fully aware every day how much I have to be thankful for.  The blessings (big and small) in my life are, frankly, more than I deserve.  But there have also been a plethora of super shitastic things, that I for one, could have done without, thank you very much.  

Each year I like to do a lil' mental round up of what the year brought me as I prep for the new things a new year will bestow upon me.  Here, for the official BBG record are some of the high and low lights of 2011:

~Ing's.  This has been the year of the 'ing(s)'.  From jeggings, to planking (which begat owling, that begat  horsemaningTebowing and batmaning;)

~Thanks to AnonD, I learned how to make the worlds best kick ass chocolate chip cookies.  (Recipe)  Because I helped, I earned a new title, 'The Primary Whisker'.  Opps!  Am I cracking a code?  If we're bein' honest, it probably shoulda been the primary eater.

~A local 'feel good' story unfolded (and then quickly disintegrated) with the discovery of the golden voice, Ted Williams who found momentary national fame for morphing from an addiction riddled homeless beggar to the voice of a Kraft Mac and Cheese spot aired during the Super Bowl.  ...And then just as quickly from the voice of creamy cheezy goodness to an addiction riddled, 'what ever happened to' cautionary tale?

~In other local ta-doin's, this is the year I had to hear the news announce that some schools would be closed not for snow, (ice, heat, fog, wind chill too low <-- all of which have happened in my lifetime), no, for wild animals roaming.  Lions, tigers and bears, free ranging due to a unstable individual making bad choices.  (56 exotic animals on the loose)

~I was rreminded how many people love me, in big ways and small. And all I can say is, WOW!   And, of course, THANK YOU.  And I know that I am a colossal pain in the ass.

~2011 opened my palate to several new things:  1st Fruity Pebbles.  (Love them!)  Nonpareils.  (Hated 'em.)  Shamrock shake.  (Severely disappointed by Ronald's offering.)  Wheatgrass.  (Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  Sweeter than expected.)  Quinoa.  (Really surprisingly liked it.)  Silk milk.  (Thumbs down.)  Hostess Pudding Pie (I thought it would be flaky goodness.  It was not.)  Pomegranate juice.  (It tasted like if a grape and a blueberry had a baby.)  Whole wheat pasta.  (I'd rather eat actual dried and hardened glue strips.)  And Chik 'N.  (While not bad, soy based connective tissue is kinda creepy.)

(We can make soy based mock connective tissue,
but still no wayback machine?!?)

~Yet again, I remain flabbergasted and saddened that science and technology haven't been able to invent a 'wayback machine'. 

~Got my heart brrrrrrrrroken.

~Got my revenge and made a new friend.

~Engaged in a lotta schadenfreude. Mainly at the expense of one of Virginia's newest residents. The score since he's been there? One earthquake. One hurricane. One super early ass and quite unusual winter storm warning in October. Free range zebras roaming the streets. ...It ain't a plague of locust, but none of that seems like a good sign.  It's called karma, asshole. Enjoy it. I sure as fuck am.   Good luck, Virginia.

~I heard 9,9,9, more frequently than a week long Hitlerathon on the History Channel.  Farewell, pizza man Herman Cain. 

~The BBGWorld hit 10,000 visitors.

~Finally, 2011 offered an option for when you can't decided if candy or booze is the answer.  Or perhaps when you're ready to make the step of gettin' lit at your cubicle.  That's right, kidz, vodka gummies.

(Health nuts should probably use vitamin gummies.)



~My first gray eyebrow hair. 

Dear 1 Gray Eyebrow Hair~
I accept that you are here as a reminder that I'm gettin' old (& that I'm STILL ALIVE). In theory I am happy to let you live and share my face with you. Frankly, I find your single whiteness randomly interesting, however you seem to insist on bein' all helter skelter and incapable of not pokin' out and pointing skyward, and I'm not ok with bein' Andy Rooney. *Pluck!!*
♥,
Me


~We became the home of World's Biggest Meatball (Finally.  Last years BBG eyewitness account of the near miss)

~Dodged the rapture twice this year (May 21st and October 21st).  So thank you Harold Camping and your predictions of the end of days for teaching me I just might be invincible.  Or that I am part of the 'left behind' (at least I'm in good company, I mean, you're here too.)

~Nana became tech savvy.  Ok, that might be an overstatement of the situation.  Nana has made some semblance of peace with the laptop.  Watching a DVD is out (it took all of 3 minutes and one ejection and putting it back in to determine that this wasn't happenin'), but she can Google, email and read her local paper. 

~NASA provided me with an escape hatch from some of the assholes roaming this place.  Helloooooooo Kepler22b!

~Uncle John tried to kill me.

~This is the year someone tried to tell me how to run my blog.  (...Guess what's never gonna happen?  Bueller?...)

~michigan won.

~We learned the names Casey Anthony, Rebecca Black and Jerry Sandusky. 

~I learned of the magical existence of natatoriums.

~For the first time ever I lost a nail.  Completely down to the bed.  (In happy nail news:  Thankfully a new one replaced it.)

~Continued to be stalked and amazed by the existence and seemingly popularity of by pink rides:

(Why would a person do this?)


~Ponytail'd men, for the 3rd year in a row continued to cross my path:
    (Engaging in some St. Pat's ponytail pullin')

~Got some new lives to corrupt in Eden, Sammy and Asher.  Congrats to Mrs. Steven Tyler kissed my ass (<-- really, I've seen pictures) and her hubby K1.  Two kids have never been so wanted, or will be so cherished.  And haaaaappy 1st boy congrats to Lupe & Jorge.  Those are some lucky ass kids.



~Gone too soon...

 
A pioneer in how women deal with breast cancer.  Before Betty Ford they were words that were whispered.  After Betty Ford it became something that was fought.  Betty Ford was also the catalyst behind Amy Winehouse's biggest hit and getting many of a celeb clean and sober.  



Heavy D. 


...Now what will we do?  RIP Heavy D.



Smokin' Joe Frazier. 


I once met 1/2 of the Thrilla in Manila duo (Ali being the other, for you non sweet science followin' peeps) at some black tie fundraiser shin dig.  It was well after his boxing days, more the heyday of his BBQ days.  He seemed nice.  I mean, as long as I smiled, giggled and nodded in agreement, at least.  Honestly, I never understood a word he said.  The "discussion" made a strong case for headgear in the ring.


We lost Charles Napier this year.  A name you might not recognize, but Silence of the Lamb's fans will never forget.



And Oprah, who while still alive did leave the airwaves this year.


As I put in a Facebook update:  Well Oprah, you did many things over the past 25 years...built a school, got Tom Cruise to jump on a sofa, gave away some cars, introduced the world to a Phil and an Oz, birthed book clubs, carried fat in a wagon, but ya never could get Nana to stop callin' you Ofrah.   


So good bye year.  

Baby New Year, I'm ready for all of your 2012 goodness, bring it.



Dear 2011,
I'm out.
Love,
BBG




Haaaaaappy New Year!!







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Tuesday, December 20, 2011

~Bah Humbug?

Yowza.  A full week since the last post.  I don't even know the last time that happened.  I seem to be having a difficult time gettin' into the yuletide spirit.  Which in turn made it hard to sit down to type some interesting entertaining thing worth reading.  Finally, I opted for the truth.  I'm settling in to what is.  And that is, is that I may be bah humbug?  No specific reason.  There's no extra, out of the ordinary drama trauma going on. 

I just find myself feeling rather blah.  (I guess that makes me blah humbug?)  Fortunately, and I guess serving as proof that misery really does loves company, I happen to have several friends who are for various reasons having the same Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-blah season. 

Last year was my first Papa-less Christmas, so it was sad.  The thought of how the previous Christmas my family had been complete and now was missing one of it's best parts weighed heavily on me.  It was the first sad Christmas I'd ever had.  ...And I've spent Christmas in the hospital.

(- Stolen from my Mom's archives -)


But last year even though there was an inherent, sad undercurrent, I had a sparkily new love and thought I was possibly on the brink of setting off on the 'forever' part of my life.   (Refer to 3 Things Last Friday Brought Me [click here] in your BBGW hymnal for how that worked out, or here's the short version; It didn't.)  So this year, while I'm more settled, I suppose really, more accustomed, to the fact that Papa is gone.  This year I feel the contrast of a, being alone (uncoupled up) Christmas vs. a heeeeerrrre's your new happy life Christmas of last year.  

And while I was never really good at math, I do know that 2 somewhat shitty Christmas' in a row = Blah Humbug.

I'm not alllllll gloom and doom.  It's not like I'm planning a Very Brady Suicidal Christmas or anything.  But it is probably a little telling that this is my favorite YouTube of the season:

As Nana advises, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything, which explains my radio blog silence for the past several days.  I don't wanna be the Debbie Downer who's bummin' folks out.  T'is not how I like to roll.  I've been trying, by doing nothing, mind you to shake my blah humbugness.  However, as Somp says, "you can't help what you feel."  But I think to some degree you can help how you mange how and what you feel, so I therefore I have vowed that I will not actually kick Santa in the balls.  And am actively trying to focus in on the good stuff of the season. 

For instance, yesterday I was happily stunned when I received an email from someone I haven't seen since, oh, 19fucking82.  Being a serial random emailer myself, it was the highlight of my day to be on the receiving end.

I'm looking forward to having Nana over.  I'm looking forward to Nana's  I-can't-even-describe -how-good-it-is chocolate pie.  And of course, to spending low key family time with Mom and her main man dude (who I MUST find a code name for!).  And to getting to see some friends who will be around over the next several days.

To put my early Christmas present of mild malaise into perspective, I just had to talk AnonD off the ledge, who after calling someone a "dumb little cunt", whilst threatening to "kick her little cunt ass", (from 4 states away) before finishing her off with a, "what a dirty nasty butt", for good measure.  Now the two salient details you should know of this story are:  1) The 'someone' she refers to totally deserves such ire.  B)  I don't know that I've heard AnonD use the word cunt more than twice in 20 years.  Let alone 3 times in a sentence.  As we wrapped up our conversation she finished with a, "Uggggghhhh.  Christmas.   I can't wait for it to be fucking over."  Ahhhh, that's the Christmas spirit.  Makes it seem like I'm lil' more mid line on the Ebeneezer Scrooge scale, right?

Perhaps today is the day I succumb and put some Christmas decorations up.  I mean, it seems like 12/20 is shit or get off the pot time for stockings and wreaths, ya know?  Decisions, decisions...


Lastly, (<-- which I like to throw in as an homage to a friend), an ode to Hanukkah which begins tonight:

To my Maccabees~
Enjoy pleeeeease,
Your festive 8 nights of light.
Get your dreidel spinnin' right.
Here's to tasty latkas to bite,
and Hanerot Halalu's to recite.
May your Hanukkah be filled
with love and good cheer.
And from this day forward
may you never know a tear.
So mazel tov, my peeps
as you light the menorah, get funky fresh
go wild and break out a hora!

Haaaaappy Hanukkah!!


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Monday, December 12, 2011

~Captive Wilding

People like to say how cute Uncle John is.  He routinely gets compliments wherever we go.  Obviously, I'm biased, so of course I think he is too.  However, I'm also a realist, and often reply with, "yeah, he's cute.  ...Until he's causin' some trouble". 

When people see him, he's usually being pretty good.  Which is probably why most people poo-poo my response.  Sure he'll probably jump up on you when he first sees you to say hello, but if you (anyone) tell(s) him to get his 15 lbs. the hell down, he'll do it.  (He knows his rules.  He just chooses when to use them.)  Essentially, if you don't have a baby carrot, or blueberry treat for him, he's probably wandered somewhere to lie down, watch tv, or occupy himself with a toy.  Uncle John is usually a pretty chill dog.  

But what those people see when they have a brief interaction with him is different than the actuality of living with Uncle John, which sometimes is like a battle of wills.    It seems like a lot of our existence with one another is comprised of one of us trying to win.  Thank you opposable thumbs!  Who's gonna out fox who for total domination of BBGW HQ, type scenarios.  As you may remember, just this year alone he's actually attempted to murder me and possibly committed a botched suicide gesture.   He keeps me on my toes as I never know what his plan for me is at any given moment.

Yesterday's screw you BBG move, and the Uncle John version of 'wilding' in Central Park was: 

(What?  Who?  Me?  Doin' sumthin'? 
...Nope.  Every thing's fine here.  Move along.)

Apparently, every pillow had ta fuckin' go.

This is not Uncle John's first wilding.  ..Which is how I know it's punitive.  See, you can be gone allll fuckin' day and return home to lil' ol' Uncle John just sittin' there lookin' cute all nub wagglin' and happy to see ya.  Every pillow exactly in it's place.  Always.  For 14 years, always.

But every now and again Uncle John gets some wild burr up his doggy butt and feels compelled to knock every pillow he can find off whatever it sits on.  I honestly don't know what the fuck that's about. 

Usually he contains his wilding to one area, however I have found where he's gone on a systematic room-by-room rampage. 


Boots on the ground report;
Living room pillows:  Down. 
Bedroom pillows:  On the damn floor. 
Guest room pillows:  Also not where they belong. 

So yes, Uncle John knows both the phrases, "reeeeeally?!?" 
and "what the fuck, Uncle John?!?"

...And he only does it when I'm home.  (<-- which somehow makes it more irritating.)

I wish I knew what his lil' d oh double g mind is thinkin' when he's doin' this. 

(Is it just me, or does Uncle John look indignant
that I've returned the pillows to their rightful spots?)


Since I'm not the Dog Whisper, and as I don't speak schnauzer, I'll just have'ta keep assuming that it's some canine Charlie Sheenesque version of, 'it's called winnnnnning, bitch.'


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Thursday, December 8, 2011

~O Christmas Tree

...It's a CHRISTMAS tree.  A fuckin' CHRISTMAS TREE!  Not a 'holiday' tree.  Mainly, because there is no such thing.

Yes, Virginia, there is no 'holiday tree'. 

The only thing it is, is another example of a case of;  just because ya say sumthin' doesn't make it true.  (<-- I know.  I say a lotta shit.  A disproportionately small percentage is ever true.)  People also say:  Irregardless, that the amboolance is coming when they call 911, and that people's impact on climate change is as fictitious as The Grinch's escapades in Whoville, yet, also zero of those things is true.
 

(Yes kidz, you've joined my annual rant
about the holidays already in progress.)

Recently the Governor of Rhode Island, Lincoln Chafee, decided to call the tree erected in his statehouse a "holiday tree".  His misguided reasoning being that it "is inclusive and reflects Rhode Island's origins as a haven for religious diversity.", which only holds H20 if Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, et al, symbols traditionally include a big fat Christmas tree all tricked decked out.  ...But that's not the case.  So let's stop fuckin' fibbin'. 

A tree put up this time of year, regardless of how non-Jesus-y it's decorated, or how non-religious the tree putting up entity (business, government, individual) is, by function of being put up, is a nod, a keeping of custom of a Christian based holiday (Christmas).  Just like putting up a Menorah, is a acknowledgement, a celebration of a Jewish based holiday (the Festival of Light).  Calling it sumthin' different doesn't, in fact, make it sumthin' different.  If a non-Jewish household puts up a Menorah, that doesn't make it a candle stick, ya know?  It's still a Menorah.  So in my opinion, calling a Christmas tree a 'holiday tree' is equally as disingenuous.  It's not a sign of inclusiveness.  Being inclusive is a sign of inclusiveness.  Acknowledging basic printed on calendar events is just a truth. 


(It is.   Christmas. )


My argument is less about religion, as it is accuracy.

Because regardless of one's religious, or non-religious inclinations, it's not the Spring bunny.  It's the Easter Bunny.  It.  Just.  Is.  That's the reality.  Sometimes you can spin shit, position it, frame it, but sometimes the truth is just the truth.  There's a reason this blog isn't called Curvy Brown Girl World, ya know? 

There's not another holiday we can't seem to call by it's name, so why is 'Christmas' too troubling of a term to use?  I'm not sayin' you've got to celebrate it, but ya can't just put blinders on, rename it and pretend that it doesn't exist if you don't speak it's name.

Here in the good ol' U.S. of A., many people would argue that it's a separation of church and state issue.  Funny, to me at least, nobody ever gets their panties in a bunch when they're at the local government office and see hearts plastered everyfuckingwhere for Valentines Day, or shamrocks abound for the festive mid-March day.  Ya know the one-  SAINT Patrick's Day.  (And for the official record, that's SAINT Valentine's Day.)  Hummmmm..."saint"?  Seems religious-y?  Oh, right.  That's because their origins are Catholic.  How, exactly, is Christmas any different?  It has (like the others) in large part morphed into a very secular and revenue generating (think:  presents, drinks, greeting cards, big box stores, chocolates, travel, etc.) celebration, than its original inception as a faith based celebration.  But somehow we're sooooo offended by it's (Christmas-y) religious nature that we shall not speak it's name?  
 
What's next?  Once everyone puts that whole saint/religious thing together, are we gonna have to start calling February 14th Make A Grand Display Of Your Love Day or something equally as dismissive of the history of it's existence? ...Although, honestly, I could get behind a, Hey Ya'll, Let's Get Lit Day held March 17th.  Maybe we'll start a Potato Day, later in the year to make it up to the Irish.  (<-- See.  THAT'S offensive!  "Christmas"?  Not so much.)

For the record, not only do I call bullshit on using 'holiday' instead of Christmas, when Christmas is appropriate.  I also call backwards bullshit on things that say 'holiday', but instead of meaning ALL of the yuletide holidays, really still only mean C-h-r-i-s-t-m-a-s. 

Or as I call 'em, Haaaaappy Hypocritical Holidays!

Exhibit A:  

(Says Happy Holidays, but that bearded fat man says CHRISTMAS)
 
(Says Happy Holidays, but Christmas tree denotes, um, CHRISTMAS.)

(Says Happy Holidays, but guess what?  Christmas bulbs mean CHRISTMAS.)


(Says Happy Holidays, without Christmas festive icons means HOLIDAYS. 
...Congratulations!  BBG Approved.)



BBG Rules On "Christmas" Usage:

  • Starting with Thanksgiving I say, Happy Holidays, because I'm wishing you a good everything between now and the first of the year.  Coverin' all the bases.
  • If I know you're Jewish I say Happy Hanukkah, and ensure I know when it's observed.   (I also make it a habit to know when Ramadan starts for my Muslim peeps, Stonewall Day for my gay peeps, and Pi Day for my geeky peeps.  I am an equal opportunity celebrator.  It's how I roll.)
  • If it's after Hanukkah and before Christmas, I just say Merry Christmas, because Christmas is the next big celebration in line, whether you celebrate or not is up to you.  (This is not the case this year.  Hanukkah begins sunset 12/20 and culminates 12/28.)  Everyone should be happy if someone wishes you a good any Day.  (...Have a Haaaaapy Nipple day?  Well, yes.  Yes, I will.  Thank you, you too!)  
  • If it's in reference to something specifically Christmas-y, I say Christmas.  For instance; "this is my Christmas tree".  Fine.  "This is my fuckin' Christmas tree..." 
I'm not trying to be disrespectful of anyone's beliefs (or non-beliefs).  I just don't think that telling fibs and spinning things to seem like you're being inclusive and respectful is the answer.  It seems like we can be straight forward, accurate and sensitive to others who may not hold my/your traditions of the season, without ignoring what is.  Anything less makes me rant-y.   Obviously.


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Friday, December 2, 2011

~Gift Ideas (aka:These Exist II)

T'is the season for the (drum roll) 2nd annual BBG Gift Ideas post (aka: Things you probably didn't know existed).  If anything strikes your fancy you'll find a link (= "click") accompanying each cracked out, fuck'd up or 'hummmm' inducing item you see, because yes, these exist.   And you can have 'em.  For the official record, no, I have noooo affiliation with any of these products/companies, other than the misfortune of randomly discovering them on the interweb.  Hence, I cannot vouch for the veracity of any of the following products and/or companies.   

With that said~    
Enfuckin'joy!!




For the man who has everything except a date, and because I guess ya can never be too prepared fit for whackin' off:


The Free Flexor (click)



My Pet Fat (click)


For $59.95 you can give the gift of a 1lb. "anatomically correct replica of body fat."  Of course for those of you on a limited budget this holiday season a $10.00 Krispy Kreme gift card can probably achieve the same, without the pesky nuisance of having to carry your fat in your hand.


Personally, I think they're limiting themselves by marketing only to Spock devotees.  Why alienate the 'talk to the hand' contingent?  (Details - click)




Party all night and sleep all day (without being noticed)! 


No more bullshit trying to stay awake while sitting in some boring ass conference in Vegas after an all nighter of free booze at the slots studying pertinent materials, noooooo Eyelid Stickers (click) will allow your favorite recipient to be hungover and sleep in creepy peace. 



I don't know what I could possibly say that would be better than just getting to the fact that this exists (click), so I won't.  That's right kidz.  Pussy in a can.

(Special thanks to MOK who discovered this while on vacation.)



When squatting is too much trouble...


The Off Road Commode (click) provides jusssssst the ticket when your favorite outdoorsman needs to answer natures call.  Speaking of tickets, indecent exposure, anyone?




A perfect disguise gift for any crime committin' livin' in cold climate friend on your list.  [Beardheads (click)Or perhaps a great way to tell that special someone, 'I think you're so unattractive you should probably cover that up at least half the year'.  They also offer a more ZZ Top version, vikings and a Santa dome/face warmer.  


I question exactly how much time you actually have to spend lookin' at your dogs asshole before this becomes a thing. 



You've named her Cinnamon.  Perhaps purchased her some baby high heels or the pole dancin' doll, (<-- yes, those exist too, Google it.  I'll wait...)  but if you reeeeeally want to secure her spot in the champagne room as a 'featured' dancer you'll wanna give her a (ahem) head start with this super classy (and instructional) t.  (Available in 0-6mos and up)  Tassles for tots t-shirt (click)



Please keep in mind, I'm in no way suggesting that this is a good idea.  But, I am saying it is an awesome idea!  Serious biz, what could possibly go hinky from carrying around a big ass flask filled 64 fluid ozs. full o' your favorite hooch?   Giant Ass Flask (click)



...Of course, that probably means you'll need to get one of these (click) too:





I find it distressing on numerous faux phallus levels.  But it claims to have helped "thousands of women's sleep".   I suspect if they added a battery it would help more women sleep, but the Kush people (click) didn't ask me how to best market their product.  Whateves.



Lastly, to leave on a classy note;  Bald is beautiful on a grown ass man.  However, no so much for a tot.  And I ought to know.  I was bald until I was 2.  Spare the newborn on your list the shame of baby baldness with the Baby Toupee (click)

(This is 'The Donald')


If this page didn't supply you with everything you need for your Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day, St. Stephen's or National Bouillabaisse Day (<-- yep.  That exists too. 12/14) gift giving needs, please refer to last years list (<-- click), chocked full of other equally weird quality suggestions.

(Indulge an Aunt BBG)

Haaaaaappy Birthday to Godkid Mini Me!!
 
 
 
Related Gift Idea Posts:
 
 
 



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