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Organic Life

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This is a post wherein I admit I’m a curmudgeon. It’s also kind of all over the place.

I’ve been thinking about that Drop City thing we saw at the Museum of Contemporary Art on Sunday. Specifically:

Eager to break art out of the confines of museums and galleries, they dropped painted rocks off the roof of their shared loft and called their actions “Droppings” or “Drop Art” with the idea that art could be a part of everyday life and the boundaries between artist and audience could be blurred. Drop City grew out of the ethos that anything could be art and they built their community out of found, scavenged, and repurposed materials.

This is the kind of “organic” I’m talking about here. I really like this.

Now, this wouldn’t happen. Wait, this statement probably isn’t true. It very well might be happening somewhere, but I don’t know where that is. I’m part of the mommyblogger demographic, where most of what I see (on the internet) involves brands and products and gloriously beautiful images on Pinterest. Today’s version of Drop City would involve a carefully curated collection of rock-like items purchased from vintage stores and Etsy boutiques, placed in calculated-to-look-haphazard vignettes in expensive residential lofts or 4,000-square-foot houses, all in an effort for the “artists” to obtain lucrative brand sponsorships and get repinned on Pinterest a billion times.

To be honest, Pinterest kind of bugs me. In theory, it’s a great idea — people make virtual bulletin boards of stuff they like and share it with others. In practice, it’s a bit much for me. Everything is just so. Do you know what I mean? It’s all so beautiful and so perfect and so painstakingly executed and so perfectly photographed and Photoshopped, and it just comes off as being sterile and processed. It has no edge.

The processed-ness of our society in general bugs me. There’s autotune and plastic surgery and gobs of makeup and Photoshop and fashion blogs where everything is expensive and calculated and shot and processed just so and you wouldn’t even recognize the person if you saw her on the street and elaborately planned and executed engagement and pregnancy announcements and weddings that seem designed to play well on the internet at the expense of being awesome in real life. Speaking of the internet, there’s also Instagram (which I really like, damn my hipster heart), where everything is processed to look unprocessed.

I know these things always cycle. Skirts get short and then they get long again. Pants go from low-rise to high, from wide to skinny and back to wide. But will we ever go back to being unprocessed? As people — women in particular — realize that, through plastic surgery or botox or whatever, they don’t have to look (read: be) old, will anybody want to? (Although, sidenote, the thing I don’t get about plastic surgery is that you’re not actually fooling anybody. Everybody you know knows how old you are and your neck will always give you away.)

I’ve been craving unprocessed. And I’m bored with everything always being perfect (or if it’s ever not perfect, it’s in a totally perfectly-imperfect-tee-hee-I’m-just-like-you calculated kind of way). Perfection sets up an impossible standard. And it’s so boring! I want a perfection demolition. I want more like this blog, where the author is all, hey, I’m not wearing makeup and these photos are bad (link deleted because this bitch cited Gala Darling with approval two or more times, and fuck that shit if you like Gala Darling there is no hope for you), or like this blog, which features random stuff found on the streets of New York.

I guess what I’m saying is that I want to go back to being hippies who throw rocks off the roof and think anything can be art. And I know I can do that and I know if I look hard enough, I can find other people doing it, too.

Written by Tracy

February 29th, 2012 at 12:08 pm

Posted in and life,hippie adventures

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Focus on the Positive

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I make my living as an editor. Editing is more than just commas and spelling. It’s more than grammar. My favorite part of the editing process occurs on what I guess you could call the macro level, where you’re looking at things like overall organization, style, flow, voice, and whether the author’s points are clear. I love editing, and I think I’m pretty good at it. (Full disclosure: I’m much better at fixing other people’s writing than my own. Sometimes I look at something I’ve written and think, “Editor, edit thyself.”)

The thing is, I can’t turn off my editor brain when I’m reading regular, non-work stuff. Editor brain is the only brain I have. So I read everything — books, magazines, blog posts, tweets — critically. By “critically” I mean like this: “exercising or involving careful judgment or judicious evaluation <critical thinking>.” I don’t mean it in a negative way at all, although sometimes, it can get tricky. Sometimes editor brain = bitchy brain. It happens.

As a person who suffers from editor brain, it’s hard for me to find things I like to read. It’s especially hard on the internet. In theory, I like to read blogs (and there are some blogs I like reading a whole lot). In practice, many blogs I find don’t stay in my Google Reader for long because I can’t enjoy reading something if it offends my editor brain. And there are myriad things that offend my editor brain, and they go way beyond just poor grammar. There’s bad writing. There’s shilling. There’s too much blogging about blogging. There’s name dropping and awful nicknames. I have so many blog dealbreakers it’s not even funny.

Because it’s so hard for me to find things I truly enjoy reading, what sometimes happens is I end up reading blogs I hate. Sometimes I make fun of those blogs, usually with other people on the internet who are also making fun of them. It’s something I’ve done for years, since the glory days of LiveJournal, where people willingly joined communities where the members would harshly and maybe cruelly on occasion (but also hilariously) critique their writing.

To some extent, I enjoy a good trainwreck. For example, there’s a blogger I’ve been sort of following, from a snark perspective, for years. This blogger has thousands of fans and admirers, and has written books that have been published and purchased by actual people who have read them, as well as another book deal. Her writing is, without question, some of the most atrocious, offensive writing I’ve ever had the misfortune of reading in my life. But still she somehow continues writing and having fans and makes a (modest) living at it.

As an editor, a reader, and a person who enjoys writing and expression (when done well), this kind of thing fascinates the hell out of me. On the one hand, I want to understand how anybody could read this drivel and like it. On the other hand, I want to understand how it happens that a terrible writer who seems like a pretty dreadful person makes money writing and basically selling herself as a brand, while awesome bloggers who are putting out good, thoughtful, interesting posts (don’t worry, I’m not referring to myself, I promise) aren’t. I want to understand the intersection of quality content, self-promotion, and connections and why, more often than not, self-promotion and connections trump quality content. I want to understand the people who put forth bullshit and the people who reward bullshit. I want to understand why people in power tend to stay in power even when they suck and everybody still kisses their asses. I guess this is a long way of saying I want to understand human nature as expressed in the blogosphere.

The problem is that for a while now, what I’ll refer to as my nice, hippie brain has been at odds with my bitchy, editor brain. Let me be clear — I don’t think there’s anything wrong with responding critically (or even bitchily) to anything on the internet. If you put it out there, people are free to think and say whatever they want about it. But lately I’m just feeling like I don’t want to do it any more. Like, honestly? Although I’m fascinated by the success of the blogger mentioned above and I’m curious about what crazy shit she’s going to spew next, when I really think about it, the truth is that I don’t actually have a fuck to give about this sort of thing any more.

So I thought I’d try an experiment. For the month of February, I’m going to focus on the positive on the internet. I won’t read any blogs I don’t actually enjoy. I won’t read or contribute to any internet snark. Instead, I’ll do, well, something else. I don’t know what — I guess we’ll see. I don’t have any big, noble goals — I don’t think my mental energy is like a valuable piece of downtown real estate that must be put to its highest and best use or anything. And I’m not going to be all positive all the time or anything, because that’s always fake. I’m just not going to seek the negative.

I’ll report back to you on how this turns out. My hypothesis is, well, that one of two things will happen: (1) I’ll realize that I miss the snark, which is a harmless diversion that keeps me entertained; or (2) I’ll realize that I’m truly a hippie who is into other stuff now that I have more free time. Either way, it’ll be (marginally) interesting (to me).

Written by Tracy

February 2nd, 2012 at 10:20 pm

Posted in and life

Tagged with ,

I love my hubby!!!!!

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Okay, not really. I mean, I do, but I’d never say it like that in a million years.

I didn’t set out to get all ranty today, but I love this “12 Blogger Bad Habits” post on Sweet Tater so much and it got me thinking. Number 3 is my favorite, and it’s something that has been bothering me for a long time. It goes like this:

Calling your significant other anything but his/her given name. I’m serious with this. Just stop it.

Look. If you’re so concerned about privacy, why are you even broadcasting shit on the internet? Could you, at the very least, be less annoying than women who refer to their significant others as anything like:

  • hubby
  • hubs
  • hubster
  • Husband
  • Mr. [insert your internet identity here]
  • Daddy [insert your internet identity here]
  • lover (gross!)
  • boyf (unless you’re a drunk 21-year-old, in which case “boyf” is okay)
  • any variation of gentleman (unless you’re at least 90 years old, in which case “gentleman caller” is okay)
  • stupid college nicknames based on excess body hair
  • any type of monkey-like animal
  • DH, unless you’re married to Jim Thome, David Ortiz, or the like
  • the [insert occupation here]
  • a beverage
  • a fake name you clearly publicize as fake (if you didn’t tell us we’d never know and wouldn’t care)??

One blogger I like refers to her husband as LT. This doesn’t bother me. I don’t know if those are really his initials and I don’t care. Initials aren’t annoying. Also, I picture her being married to LaDainian Tomlinson, which really adds a little something to her posts. I can think of a (very!) few well-thought-out nicknames used by people I know who don’t really blog, but that’s about it.

My favorite is when a blogger refers to her husband by some cutesy-annoying nickname on her blog but then @s him on Twitter, where he uses his real, full name. Or he “likes” her blog’s Facebook fan page (Why do these even exist?). You’re not fooling anybody! If people want to find out your husband’s name, they will. The more you make a big deal out of it the more they’ll want to find it. And you know what? Who cares? It’s not like people suddenly gain power as a result of knowing your husband’s name. Or even your child’s name.

Nicknames for kids also bother me. They’re always gross and they don’t even work. There’s always someone somewhere who will tell people your kid is named after a crappy Beatles song. And if you’ve ever referred to your child as DS, DD (which sounds like boobs), or any type of bean anywhere online, the internet should be able to get a restraining order against you.

(And yes, for the record, Ben and I have nicknames for each other. They are terrible and will never be discussed here. They’re embarrassing and you don’t want to hear about that shit, anyway. And I don’t give a shit if the entire internet knows his name is Ben.) (Full disclosure: I briefly referred to Ben and Soren as B and S. But that makes me sound like someone from Gossip Girl, which would greatly improve my station in life but no.)

You know what also annoys me? People who write shit like “I love my husband.” I mean, duh? Does that really need to be said? Every time I want to see it I want to respond, “Oh man, lucky you. I fucking hate my husband!” Aside from the stating-the-obvious factor, nobody cares about the simple fact that you love your husband. If you want to tell us that, at least make it interesting!

Finally, today I realized that John Elway looks like a chess piece. See?

separated at birth

Written by Tracy

January 16th, 2012 at 10:29 pm

Posted in and life

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WTF Wednesday: I’m sick of the internet.

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I’m so sick of the internet I’m even sick of myself on the internet, which is why I’m light on content. I almost updated yesterday, but it would’ve been something like this:

Blossoms of Lights________

Do you need to see a post that consists of nothing but one iPhone picture from Blossoms of Lights? You do not. Now that I think about it, you don’t really need to see this post, either, but here it is.

I think part of the problem is, well, honestly, PMS, because that always drastically lowers my general internet annoyance threshold. But other than that, December is a pretty boring month for the internet. As I’ve mentioned, I’ve unsubscribed from so many blogs lately. But then, after getting rid of all sponsored posts/giveaways/product reviews blogs, I also quit reading blogs that contained gift guides. If you can think of something in life that’s more boring and useless than a holiday gift guide on a blog, let me know, because I cannot. Pregnancy/newborn baby blogs that chronicle in excruciating detail every single pound/burp/twinge/issue/bodily function/thought/mucus presentation as if the author is the first person to ever experience a basic biological function that has been happening as long as there have been humans are close, as are food blogs written by people who try to use all the words to describe a meal and as a result make you think their salad dressing contains jizz (“spunky” = not a food word).

Sometimes when I get frustrated and/or bored with blogs in general, I turn to websites where people make fun of blogs. The problem is that these get boring, too. What ends up happening is that 90% of the people making fun of stupid and/or boring shit on the internet eventually become comfortable enough to take every possible opportunity to turn the conversation to themselves and how they have handled or would handle similar situations. Talking about yourself cannot possibly ever constitute quality, substantive snark. If you want to talk about yourself, get your own blog, which people can then make fun of on another website. That’s how it’s supposed to be done, if you ask me.

I’m pretty sure I’ve posted this before, but it just about sums up my feelings.

Dream Song 14

Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatingly) “Ever to confess you’re bored
means you have no

Inner Resources.” I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as Achilles,

who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into the mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.

–John Berryman

Written by Tracy

December 28th, 2011 at 11:19 am

Posted in and life

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I don’t want to read your goddamn sponsored posts.

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I have a very hard time finding blogs I like to read that don’t annoy me so much I have to stop reading them. I had to unsubscribe from yet another blog the other day after something annoying happened. “Something annoying” often goes like this:

Despite the fact that I’m 35, was raised by wolves, and don’t know how to [wear makeup] [wear jewelry] [decorate my foyer] [wear hideous dresses], [insert name of shitty makeup/jewelry/home decor/clothing brand here] contacted me to ask whether I would completely whore myself out and write a boring-ass post you don’t want to read to pimp their tacky shit in exchange for giving me some free crap I’ll use for purposes of writing this boring-ass post and then forget about until 7 years from now when I find this shit in my bathroom cabinet/dresser/basement/closet and throw it out. I wish these fuckers would pay me to whore out their products but when they don’t, I just take the free crap they offer me because I have no respect for myself or my audience.

[Insert 27 boring-ass paragraphs about shitty products here.]

[Insert 38 hiddy photos of overly made-up/jewelry-covered/ill-fitting-dress-wearing blog author and/or her fugly house here.]

As you can see, although I am barely able to function as a human adult, [insert name of shitty makeup/jewelry/home decor/clothing brand here] made me look like a raging alcoholic who got into a heated argument with a Rottweiler on a faux fur throw. I feel so beautiful and wonderful and now I want to share the joy of these shitty products with you by giving you free shit you don’t really want.

You may enter my shitty-ass giveaway by kissing my ass in the following ways:

a) Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post telling me how gorgeous and awesome I am. You must use at least 86 adjectives.

b) Tweet about this promotion 500 times, annoying everybody who follows you, and leave the URL to those tweets in a comment on this post.

c) Blog about this promotion so you too can be known far and wide as a spammy asshole who posts shit nobody cares about and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post and that post will tell two friends and I’d tell two friends if I had any friends but obviously I don’t considering how fucking boring and self-promotional I am.

d) For those with no Twitter or blog, get the fuck out of here because there is no way you’ll be able to benefit me by increasing my Alexa rank.

e) Follow me down the street making catcalls and whistling.

This giveaway is open to US assholes age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random drawing, and will be notified by e-mail and Twitter 972 times.

I mean, seriously? Why do people do sponsored posts and giveaways? Are they so hard-up to get free shit that they’re willing to compromise the integrity of their blogs to do so? Obviously, the answer is yes, but why?

Here’s the thing. I get it. I’m a hippie curmudgeon. I hate advertising and consumerism. So maybe my perception is a bit skewed. Still, I have a hard time imagining that anybody is interested in spammy giveaways or sponsored posts. Sponsored posts suck.

Whenever I’m reading a blog and I see any sort of sponsored post, my eyes glaze over and I scroll to the end, hoping that the next post will be something marginally interesting that I might want to read. But you have to understand that while I’m doing that eyes-glazed scrolling thing, my opinion of you and your blog is going way down. If I’m new to your blog, I’m trying to figure out whether you’re interesting and have credibility such that I’d like to continue reading. If you have sponsored posts, I’m going to find you uninteresting and lacking credibility. That might seem harsh, but that’s just how it is. If I’ve been reading your blog regularly, I’ll be willing to overlook this for a while but eventually, the interesting-content-to-spammy-bullshit proportion will get out of whack and I’ll stop reading. (FYI: Links to your Babble articles are just as bad.)

If somebody sends you free shit and you’re writing about it on your blog, you can say “My opinions are my own” 800 times and I won’t believe you. Your opinions can’t be your own because you’re allowing them to be purchased in exchange for exposure on your blog. (And it doesn’t help when you say that if you don’t love a product you won’t write about it, because you don’t bother to tell us about those instances.) Aside from the fact that I don’t believe you, even reading the sentence “My opinions are my own” makes me absolutely die of boredom. I’ve seen that shit on 900 other blogs and I didn’t find it interesting then. I don’t find it interesting when you say it. It’s boring.

And for what it’s worth, I hold this shit against brands, too. Chances are, if you’re a brand doing sponsored posts, I don’t buy your shit anyway. I don’t buy poor quality goods, makeup that is tested on animals, disposable diapers, disgusting processed food items, or any of the crap you usually see associated with sponsored posts. So I’m probably not your target audience. But I am the target audience of a few brands I’ve vowed to boycott forever as a result of ridiculousness in the blogosphere. For example, if you’ve ever given a free washer and dryer to someone who was acting like an entitled snot on the internet, I’ll never buy your stuff. And I have a long memory.

The only blog I’ve ever seen that does giveaways in a non-annoying fashion and writes about sponsors in a way that doesn’t shred the authors’ credibility is Young House Love. I know opinions on that blog vary (and honestly I’d rather read your sponsored post than more shit about the Bowers), but they are the only ones I’ve ever found who do giveaways and have sponsors in a way that doesn’t make me want to stop reading. The main reason, I think, is that they’re very clear about not accepting free shit from anybody in exchange for anything.

If you’re not a hugely popular blog, it’s hard to take that position. I understand. I know what it’s like to need extra money and to want to make it off your blog. Believe me. I need extra money and I’d love to make it off my blog, which is something I spend a bit of time and effort on. I’ve just never figured out a way to do it that isn’t gross. And no offense, but most of you haven’t figured that out, either. And until you do, you should stop trying, unless you want to lose more readers. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who’s totally sick of this shit.

Written by Tracy

October 30th, 2011 at 8:39 pm

Posted in and life

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Everything I Ever Needed to Know About not Getting Scammed on the Internet I Learned from LiveJournal

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One of the people I remember from my LiveJournal days was runfaster. I wasn’t LJ friends with her, but we were LJ friends of LJ friends and I’d hear about her from time to time. At some point (please forgive my hazy memory of these details), runfaster suffered one of the following: a very late miscarriage, a stillbirth, or the death of a very young child, as well as the death of her significant other. It was tragic, of course. People got together and sent her gifts and possibly money. I seem to recall people sending her handfuls of dirt, which I assume was meaningful. I felt bad for her in the drive-by way you feel bad about people you don’t know who experience terrible things. (I don’t mean that to sound dismissive of other people’s grief. I just don’t know what else you can do that isn’t grief vulturing.)

Eventually it was revealed that there was no dead baby or significant other. She made it all up. There was much wailing and rending of garments but, to her credit, I remember that runfaster somehow owned up to what she did and eventually at least some people forgave her.

Then there was enprise. Enprise was a perky female deaf college student. We ran in the same LJ circles (holy shit telling you that I ran in LJ circles is just about the lamest thing I’ve ever said about myself). I can’t remember whether she was in The Reviewers — I think she wasn’t but was friends with some of the members. (Did you know about The Reviewers? It was an LJ community where you submitted your LJ and the members reviewed it (usually in the most blunt fashion possible) and if you were good enough, you became a member and got to review new applicants and act like a pompous buffoon with the other members. Sometimes it’s hard to even remember a time when people actually wanted to hear honest feedback about their blogs. That was really fun.)

From what I remember, everybody loved enprise. As a tedious contrarian by nature, this made me kind of not like her. Yeah, I’m like that unless someone is so resoundingly awesome I can’t even hate. So I never read her LJ or got fished in to the enprise love, but it existed and it was vast.

There’s not much of enprise left on the internet, but here’s a little something from one of my old LJ friends:

This will all sound familiar to anyone on LJ who read enprise’s journal. enprise was a young girl nicknamed Cee who went to UPenn, and was deaf. At one point she got Lyme disease, and at another point, got a job a fairly prestigious law firm. Her journal was filled with wild adventures (with her extremely wealthy friends) and shocking health problems. At first her journal wasn’t well written, but it got better and better; to the point where it was one of my few ‘must reads.’

As it turns out, as Uberdionysus stated:

And then we found out that she was a he. She was actually a thirty year old fat man named Brian Sullivan.

So enprise was some dude who was not perky, female, deaf, or a college student. He was some sort of real estate professional or something. He was widely ridiculed on LJ for the rest of its relevant life and as far as I know, nobody ever heard from him again (unless, of course, he took on yet another identity).

I also ran an LJ community about handbags that was pretty popular at the time. Eventually, people grew tired of looking at and talking about pictures of handbags. They wanted to buy and sell handbags through the community.

I thought that was the stupidest idea anybody ever had. I’m pretty bitchy, so I ended up banning everybody who got pissy about it. Why, I wondered, do you need to sell your handbags on an LJ community? That’s what Ebay is for, at least if you’re legit and not trying to scam anybody. I was the only maintainer of a huge community and didn’t have the time or the interest in policing that shit. What would happen when somebody ripped somebody off? I mean, believe it or not, bitches can get pretty dramatic about handbags even when transactions in goods aren’t involved. I didn’t want to deal with it so I just said no.

So I thought it was kind of common sense to: (1) not buy shit from people you know only from the internet on the internet outside an established structure for doing so such as Ebay or Etsy; and (2) not send money to people you know only from the internet.

As recent events including the Anthroholic scandal (see here, here, and here) and the Jennifer Perillo donation kerfluffle (more on that here) reveal, it’s not common sense. People are willing to buy merchandise from individual bloggers sight unseen and donate money to people they’ve never met. This is fascinating and troubling to me, but that’s what happens on the internet.

The point of this post is: Be careful with your money. Buy from legitimate sources. Realize that Anthropologie addiction is a serious problem that has affected your life negatively in the following ways. . . . Be generous with people you actually know. Openly question others, no matter how popular they are or how many times they call you a troll because they don’t want to be questioned. Be kind but also be skeptical. Be careful with your trust — not everybody deserves it.

Written by Tracy

October 21st, 2011 at 10:27 pm

Posted in and life

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They’re Klout to get me.

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As you may know, I have a well-documented hatred of Klout. (See, e.g., this post.) Don’t get me wrong — I don’t sit around and think about how stupid Klout is all day or anything. I just think about it once in a while.

Yesterday I went over there to see if my score has been decreasing since I changed my Klout name to “Fucking shit Klout is dumb.” It has. Coincidence? I have no idea, nor do I really give a shit. However, do you want to know what pissed me right off? The topics about which Klout thinks I’m influential. The three things highlighted for me yesterday were, and I shit you not:

  • weddings
  • Klout
  • Joe Buck.

Okay. Think for a minute. If you need more than a minute, take it. Think long and hard. Are you in your happy thinking mindspace? Can you possibly come up with three things I hate more than weddings, Klout, and Joe Buck? That’s like the trifecta of awful right there. Weddings, Klout, and Joe Buck are the things I’d encounter were I ever unfortunate enough to travel to Circle IX – Cocytus – The Traitors – Judecca – Traitors to Their Benefactors of Dante’s Inferno, which, if I recall correctly, was represented in the versDante's Infernoion of the book I had junior year of college by a terrifying drawing of one man eating another man’s skull (this is the sort of thing you definitely want on hand the first time you try LSD, if you’re into that sort of thing).

Okay, I exaggerate a little. I don’t hate weddings, really. I’m actually planning my own, if you want to know the truth. I haven’t really mentioned it much here because we’re marrying ourselves (you can solemnize your own marriage in Colorado, which is awesome because that means you don’t even have to go to the courthouse to have a no-big-deal wedding ceremony, which is a big plus for me because as a retired attorney, going to the courthouse feels like work, not fun happy big life moment to me) and totally not doing anything at all because, shit, we already have a house and a kid and 100 animals and I think this is one of those figurative horse-barn-out situations where it seems a little silly to make a BFD about it, plus I’m on a spending fast and not looking to throw down more than $30 for the marriage license. I’ll probably tell you more about getting married while on a spending fast as we get closer to the date. I think we’ll be able to pull the whole thing off for less than $200, and most of that is for a thing I got to wear in my hair way back when we were talking about going to Vegas and I was going to, like, wear a dress and stuff. We’ve nixed that idea because if I was already buying shit to wear in my hair, a wedding in Vegas, as humble and low-budget as it intended to be, was going to end up a huge expensive thing. We’re now firmly in the cheapest-wedding-ever camp.

So I don’t really hate weddings. But I do really hate Klout and Joe Buck. If we combined the two, we’d find out that Joe Buck is influential about:

  • sucking
  • speaking in a monotone voice
  • inducing boredom-related comas
  • killing the fun of sports.

In Dante’s Inferno, Joe Buck would make it to Circle III – Violence Against God, Nature, and Sports, where he’d encounter people who shoot wolves from aircraft and Chris Berman. Gross!

Written by Tracy

August 16th, 2011 at 4:33 pm