Good tidings!

I'm working on a very long and involved post, but I'd like to post something to tide the hungry blog over. So here's a few sillies I've come across in my recent travels.

Dear me! A clear-cut case of people not using their brains.


These made my day when I found them:

In my job doing door-to-door fundraising, I occasionally come across some gems. The first one obviously doesn't need explaining; the second is something I saw in someone's yard. It was nighttime, so there was no way the cell phone cam was gonna work, so I drew it! A pile of snow about two feet high with a viking hat on top. Adorable.

For these, I just want to applaud whoever got high and chose the names for the trail mix:

You've gotta be pretty desperate for a creative outlet if you're coming up with stuff like this.

Lastly, this was at the Big Bear Diner near Monterey, CA:

This might not seem all that humorous, unless you take into account that my friends and I are all obsessed with this album cover (Beware: viewing it will make you obsessed, too! It's mesmerizing in its ridiculousness!).

With that, I bid you adieu, and know that I plan to spend the weekend perfecting my next blog masterpiece...

Ways My Boyfriend Could Kill Me, and other ramblings.

Beginnings and endings are always the most difficult. This, incidentally, is a beginning. There is so much pressure on deciding what to write FIRST. It could determine the future of my entire blog, and WORSE, all of humanity (hey...you never know...) It's like there's a fat man sitting on my chest. Or my boyfriend, who is not fat but very muscular and tall-ish and therefore twice my weight, and will sometimes sit on my chest to settle a dispute. He could easily suffocate me should he decide that he's always wanted to kill someone slowly/spend life in a federal penitentiary/be featured on 48 Hours Mysteries.

We've actually discussed ways he could kill me on a few occasions...mostly in the beginning of our relationship. He would hug me tightly and I would say something along the lines of, "You know, you could totally squeeze me to death if you wanted to." Not to mention with his MacGuyver-like resourcefulness, he could easily turn any household item into a deadly weapon...knowing this helps me sleep better at night.

But who wants to read a morbid blog?? Probably lots of people. Too bad I don't really feel like writing one. Let's talk about something heartwarming, like Free Willy.
I watched it today! The end.

Another heartwarming thing is my teeny little fish tank that inspired this blog, or at least its name. Not that I plan on documenting my fish's activities frequently, but they are sure to be mentioned from time to time, what with all their fish-y shenanigans. And by "shenanigans" I mean the two little ones flee from the big fat a-hole. His name is Mobius and he looks like this:

 

And he is an asshole.

"Asshole" is the French name for gold gourami (no, seriously...). He always has that anxiously indignant look on his face. Although I'm sure when he's hunting down the other fish, they probably see him more like this:

Is that thing even real??* 

Headbutting, hostile nipping and food hoarding are his favorite pastimes. And he is full of other little delights:

In case you were wondering, I have drawn special attention to the location of his anus so that you will realize that MY FISH POOPS FROM HIS CHEST. 

Because MY FISH POOPS FROM HIS CHEST!!!!

All his guts are crammed into his frontispiece and the back two thirds of him are all sinew and iridescence. It blows my mind. I tell him that it's only sexy when someone else dumps ON your chest, not when you defecate from your own. He just doesn't seem to get it.

So now that you know a little bit about me, but not enough to stalk and kill me, it's probably time to end post #1. I probably won't ever post again.** Goodnight blogosphere. Please be kind to me.

*found by doing a Google image search for "crazy monster fish." Apparently it was found in the Congo. DON'T EVER GO THERE.

**Yes I will. I'm trying to do reverse psychology on myself. Being told I can't do something motivates me to achieve that something!