Friday, September 26, 2014

Me(at) vs. the Vegan I

That title probably makes it sound like i have an internal struggle with veganism. I do not. Even a little. I know what i am.

That said, what kind of vegan wears leather boots? Seriously?

I am at war with a "vegan" at my job. She doesn't know it. She doesn't know anything, apparently. I can't believe she's even real. This is the type of person i really do actually despise and it has nothing to do with veganism (which is something i don't believe in - probably because it's stupid or i don't understand it). I despise her because she is yet another example of someone who has nothing spectacular to share with the world and therefore has glommed onto an ideal which she believes makes her more interesting and better than others. In reality, she is a sanctimonious asshole who hasn't bothered to even read up on the thing that she says she is.

Vegans do not:
wear Dr. Martens.
eat 9 pieces of buttered garlic bread.
consume copious amounts of chocolate chip cookie bars while exclaiming, "These are TOO good!"
eat gummy anything.
lick the bowl of the meat-based pasta sauce i made and ask to take home any leftovers.
eat all the peanut butter and leave the knife gummed up with the stuff all stuck to the side of my sink - IF they like their patellas in their correct location.

And they certainly don't tell me how pretty my chicken salad is while lamenting that they cannot eat it after they just ate rice cakes containing FIVE animal by-products. ! And how very dare they say, "I'm a vegan with poor self-control."?! What you are, ma'am, is a dipshit who wishes she was a hipster with an angle. I say throw her to the real vegans - they'd gobble that shit up, EXCEPT real vegans don't eat animal by-products.

I'm starting all my soups with chicken stock this winter and finishing them with heavy whipping cream, so she'll have to pack her own lunch of gummy fruits, rice cakes, and chocolate chip bars.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Priorities, man. Music always wins.

In about an hour, i'm going downtown to watch my buddies' band play round 1 of a battle of the bands. They're awesome. You check them out -

Anyway, after they win that, i sleep. After the sleep is an hour and a half of work and THEN i leave for Riot Fest in Chicago. Holy shit. Best.

This trip is going to kick all of the asses. I'm going with the Queen of Roadtrips, Jewels. I will never get caught up financially after this and i don't give one FUCK. We have less than 12% of a plan. It's perfect. It's like when i went with Angeez to see Gwar in Chicago back in 19-tickety-7 (Gwar stole our word for ninety-BAM!), except better for several reasons.

1) I have approved time off from work. Back then i composed a note to my boss at Happy Joe's that went a little something like this: "Hey, J-----, Angeez has an extra ticket for Gwar tonight. I'd really love to work my shift but Gwar won't be there. They will be in Chicago, however, so off i go. I hope i'm not fired. I'll be in tomorrow if not. Thanks!" My employment was not terminated. At that time.

2) I have money this time. Some. Last time i literally had $2 in dimes. No spanging this time, boy howdy. No trying to write bad out-of-state checks. No following weird rich suburbanite bro-hams to some freaky mansion and doing shots while hiding from dude's parents. They took our $25 check and didn't rape us, so there's that. And no blowing tolls because we put $22 in the tank and bought a pack of smokes with the rest.

3) I am legally allowed to drink. However, i shall not do so copiously because i can't navigate 7 stages drunk.

4) I understand #3. At 19, i couldn't navigate just one stage. Anyone attempting to point that out would have gotten face-punched though.

5) Three letters: GPS.

I'm so stoked!

UPDATE: Flannel Season DID win Round 1. Muthafukkin straight!
Way to go, boners!!

Sunday, September 7, 2014


Yesterday i binge watched half of the second season of Spike TV's "Ink Master" while working on various art projects. Dave "Lady Lips" Navarro (which i call him because, honestly, he has the prettiest mouth) spends a lot of time on that show defining words like contrast and light source. Words that are basic as hell. I thought maybe he's really dumb. Maybe he spends so much time caring for his luxurious hair and trimming those atrociously weird "mutton burns" that he never got a chance to learn vocabulary. Maybe Spike TV doesn't expect their audience to be very bright, a fairly safe assumption considering most of their programming.

Anyway, after the binge, i sat around with three of my dude-friends listening to them talk. These are dudes who treat me like one of the guys, so i get an almost accurate sense of what they talk about and how they talk about it when ladies aren't around. And i was able to figure out why ol' Lady Lips tries to sound like a dictionary. It's not because he assumes other people don't know what a word like, for example, GRID means. It's because he's trying to sound smarter than he really is. Trying to establish authority about a subject that he actually doesn't know a whole lot about. Apparently, in groups, dudes do this all the time. All three of those guys did the same thing last night. None of them do that when talking to me one on one, mainly because i'd roll my whole head and scream, "Zoidberg!" at them. It's like faux-intellectual bullshit that irritates the fuck out of me and bores me to the point that i lose all interest in whatever they're trying to say. I don't need a definition from their dick-tionary because i have my own. And it's bigger.

I mean, LOOK at those LIPS!