Monthly Archives: January 2008

Two Girls, No Vomit

 …but almost. 

*A couple of weeks ago, I was at my friend Cool Amanda’s house and, since we had discussed it at work a few times, made her find “2 Girls, 1 Cup” for me.

I’d watched a few videos of reactions to “2 Girls 1 Cup” and HAD to see it for myself.

Amanda told me she’d find it for me and I could watch it, but she just couldn’t.  “If you make it past 15 seconds, you’ve beaten everyone we know,” she told me. 

I made it about 40 seconds in, then experienced something I NEVER experience: spontaneous nausea.

I never get grossed out. I mean, NEVER.  Worms on the sidewalk are gross [see and others] yes, but I don’t have actual rising gorge when I encounter them.

“2 Girls, 1 Cup”: a whole different matter.

What the hell do these people eat that makes them shit like that? A steady diet of indigestible marshmallow fluff? Geez!

Amanda says my face was red the whole time and my reaction was priceless.  I may wait a while, watch it again, and have someone video me.

After I’d calmed down a bit and decided I wasn’t going to puke all over my friend’s living room, we decided to take it to the next step: “4 Girls Fingerpainting”.

How the hell did these girls control their gag reflexes? I mean, they even had to use the fingers down the throat method just to vomit [it was all part of the shtick.]  Plus, the room they were in looked highly suspiciously like a child’s room/nursery.


* WARNING: if you have been living under a rock for the past few months [like me] and don’t know what “2 Girls, 1 Cup” is, or what “4 Girls Fingerpainting” is, you should probably know that it is HIGHLY NSFW.  OR NOT SAFE FOR LIFE, even.


Here’s a short one -or- ignorance grows rampant on the internet

To the “Proud Yankee” who commented:

“Face it southerners are just a bunch of inbred backward crackers.”

You forgot a colon. Yay for punctuation!

Also: not all Southerners are crackers. I happen to know and love quite a few black people who are Southern born and bred.

I also like how you didn’t put your real email address in the comment box. And, did you REALLY google “inbred southern crackers” TWICE?

p.s. This is your IP address: Are you REALLY in Fayetteville? Or is it Dunn?

Zelda, Zelda, Zelda!!

Tonight, while at nightwork, I googled Zelda.

For the umpteenth time since my self-induced immersion therapy.

And I almost took a step backward because I found a NEW picture of her.

Well, to be more accurate, a photo of the actor in his makeup, presumably showing it off.

All you fellow Zelda-fearers, get ready.




Holy shit!!

Somehow, I am almost MORE scared of this than any other picture of her.

Another year, another list of whatever

Top search engine subject that directs people to this blog:

ZELDA (and derivatives: Zelda Goldman, Zelda Pet Sematary, Zelda Pet Cemetery, etc. You get the idea.)  Apparently, I am far from being the only person who has had the living piss scared out of them by her. Thanks to self-induced immersion therapy, I can now write about her and have google tell people to come read the stupid shit I write. Thank you, Stephen King.


Top instrumental song that I could listen to on repeat for hours:

“The Music Box” by Unwed Sailor.

Running a close second:

“I Can’t Remember” by Mogwai

Total hours spent in unofficial “tech support” mode for family, friends and coworkers in the past two weeks:

Roughly twelve. Mom was right: I really should’ve gone to school for computer stuff (JSYK, that was the technical term).

Number of people I regret doing the “auto-smile” thing at when rounding a corner at work:

One. Just one. And you know her as BTSG. I REALLY wish I could put auto-smile in check once in a while. Or at least that I could’ve ripped a fart (I’ve been gassy lately) in her direction to make up for accidentally being nice to her.

Top hilarious website of the past 24 hours:

The Bible, as translated into LOLCat. I can has light?

Number of times someone told me they loved me on New Year’s Eve:

About fourteen. I also got about six cheek-kisses, one check-zoober, and seven arm-holds.

Top underrated and under-listened-to band of the last five years:

The Electric Soft Parade. This may be due to the following facts: they are from the UK, they haven’t ever toured in the States (I think), and a lot of us Americans have shitty taste in music.

Most-consumed (by me) potato chips of 2007 (and I am not a big potato chips fan):


These things are fucking GOOD. And my left thumb is fucking stubby. JSYK, that is the tip of my mp3 player on the desk, not a pink vibrator.

Celebrity crush that I am most embarrassed about, even though my friend Cool Amanda agrees with me:

John Cena, pro wrestler.

Celebrity crush that I’m not horribly embarrassed about:

Zachary Quinto

Worst surnames we’ve come across at nightwork:

Baskatawang and Soberanis.

I would tell you the worst FULL names, but I think that might not being staying on TASC [thorough, accurate, secure, cautious].

Worst perfume/fragrance I have EVER smelled:

Demeter’s Bonfire bonfire-left.jpg

Normally, I LOVE the smell of burning wood, real fireplaces, etc, but my friend Katie and I were messing around in a store and we sprayed some of this on my wrist.  Two hours later, I still had a headache and felt nauseous from the smell.

It does NOT smell like a real bonfire, y’all.

Probability that I will come up with a similar list in the near future: