I walked out of a movie today.
I'd never done that before.
I thought I was going to have a panic attack, and I just had to get out of there.
*phew*
Sometimes I feel like the entire world hates me.
Does anyone know what it's like to be a liberal Republican?
It's like being a german Jew. Or, like, a Cardinals fan that lives in Boston. Or something.
Man, this election is really taxing on my emotions. I don't know which is going to be the scarier outcome. I just hope America does the right thing, and votes for Jon Stewart. That's all I'm saying.
I promised myself I wasn't going to write anything political, because it's about as intercool as asking everyone who comes to my site if they've accepted Jesus into their lives, but I can hardly avoid it.
When it comes to the bottom line, I'm just tired of all the hating. Mostly of me, but also of everyone who's not them.
I just hope that whatever happens, in a month, we're all back to normal, and we can all be friends again.
Hating someone because of their political beliefs is so '70s.
Suddenly, it's all cool to have an opinion on shit!
Okay, that was a joke, but seriously, here's my impression of everyone I knew four years ago.
Everyone: Voting's for squares, dude. The Electoral College is a sham. It doesn't matter anyway.
What they meant: Pass the bong.
And now, you can barely swing a dead intercat without hitting those same douchebags' away messages.
Everyone: Rock tha vote! Do the right thing!
What they meant: Vote for the same person that I am, or you're a soulless heathen Rebel scum.
It just hurts my heart.
I don't care if you vote, or who you vote for.
I wish someone would run on a pro-kitten platform.
Then my choice would be CLEAR.
And on that note, as pennance for not updating in practically a week because I've been...busy...with...things...(lights internet on fire, runs away) I have for you, a spanking, new comic.
It's not Halloween themed or anything themed, it just is.
So enjoy or Marshall will bust your kneecaps.
I keep looking down and mistaking my fingernails for delicious, delicious Reece's Pieces.
Only instead of peanut butter, they taste more like keyboard.
Oh, internet.
What am I gonna do with you?
I have a confession.
Um...I watch two channels now. I'm sorry Comedy Central. You used to be the only one for me, but...there's another.
Another that doesn't show infomertials from 4 AM to 8 AM.
Another that shows cartoons that don't suck.
I'm slightly obsessed with the show "Fairly Odd Parents."
Oh, man. That Cosmo is one funny son of a bitch.
I don't know who writes that show, but the amount that it far surpasses so many shows out there right now gives me hope for society.
I'm sorry if I seem a bit distracted. I am.
Look over here.
This past weekend, I experienced something that changed me.
I had a hint, and it was confirmed, and nothing will ever be the same.
Patrick on SpongeBob is voiced by Dauber from Coach.
I KNOW!
Holy fuck!
I am the master of cartoon voice, uh, knowing.
Anyway, I went to Baltimore to visit the uberrivet SDO crew (don't abbreviate them to "skullz." I watched Joe teach that lesson "the hard way." With a "knife." To a "four-year-old.")
As always, I had the time of my life, and if my family is ever as cool as Joe's is, I'll have considered my life a success. I almost felt like and out-of-the-loop outsider, because I was apparently the only one in a five-mile radius without my lip pierced.
For more information on my fun-having in Baltimore, please check out this great photo-blog.
But don't take my word for it! (Duh nuh nuh!)
Also, for your viewing pleasure, as I promised you almost ten full months ago -- Pictures of my apartment!!
Phew.
I'm tired of using a computer!
Don't spend those pictures all in one place.
Also, in case you didn't notice, I added the forums back over there, so now you wackos can talk about anything and everything to your nerdy inter-hearts' content!
Can I say something controversial here?
You know?
I'm getting a little bit tired of everyone mooing about the bible in schools and separation of church and state and Happy Non-Denominational Winter Festivus!
These people that pounce on everyone about tolerance are being *intolerant* about socio-cultural norms.
I say CULTURAL, because in this country (America) MOST people believe in God, and a LARGE amount are Christian.
So, it would not be a lie to say that the majority celebrate the traditional Christian holidays. Cool.
But the second someone says "Merry Christmas" on television instead of "Seasons Greetings" or "I Fuckin' Love Me Some Winter" or something, that person is closed-minded and politically incorrect and a thousand kittens and babies die.
After visiting a forum wherein people where hooting about separation of church and state, I watched a show about animals, and when they got to the snake, the narrator talked about Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden.
Unconsciously, I got the same "can they SAY this?" feeling I get when I watch South Park.
The old "it doesn't bother ME, but SOMEone's gonna be pissed" sort of feeling.
Then I realized that if he had talked about the Berenstein Bears during the grizzly section, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash.
But a bible story? For shame.
Then I was pissed off at myself for a while, and it got me thinking (when the show talked about piranhas prefering pumkins to meat) that Halloween is a religious holiday.
Aren't we dressing up to fend of spirits or some shit?
That's not very Christian, and yes, some churches are against it, but, the tolerant people celebrate it anyway.
Because it's not that big a deal.
Besides, I'm fairly certain there's trick-or-treating in heaven, and I *know* God doesn't give any of those shitty fun-size candies, he gives you the whole fucking Butterfinger.
My point is, why does it bother people that the prevailing religion comes up in life?
I don't by any means think that it should be *forced,* but what's the big idea if it's just there?
I went to preschool at JCC. This was in the early '80s, and I brought my lunch to school, and sometimes the stuff wasn't kosher or it was a Jewish fasting holiday or something, but did anyone care? No. That's fucking tolerance.
"Happy Passover!" "Happy Easter!" "Let's go on the see-saw!" We were kids! It was awesome.
When I went to Switzerland, they don't celebrate the traditional Halloween, at least in the town of Zermatt, where I stayed.
What happened was, this big dude dressed in a huge, black cape walked down the streets and whipped anyone who got in his way with a bunch of sticks.
This was almost ten years ago, and I can't remember much, nor can I find what the ritual was called on the internet, but he had something on him that you were supposed to try to steal.
Anyway, the point is, I was on fucking EXCHANGE in a foreign country, and walking home from the supermarket, I was BEATEN WITH STICKS as per a religious culteral ritual there.
Did I whine about how Switzerland is supposed to be neutral and tolerant to my views? No, I fucking went back and tried to steal the little thing again without getting whipped.
I am not making that story up.
So, my point is, why can't we all love each other?
If I say Merry Christmas to you, and you're Jewish, say Happy Hannukah back.
We all love each other.
It reminds me of that Simpsons where Kent Brockman promises a breaking news story of "Religion: Which is the One True Faith?"
The happiest things I ever see are some Atheist celebrating Christmas because presents are cool, or some Christian celebrating Halloween because candy is cool.
That gives me hope for humanity.
Tolerance: It's Not Just a Growth Spurt for Insects.
Chef Boyardee, where have you BEEN all my life?
And here I've been bringing sandwiches every day like a chump.
Your low-priced, processed, factory ravioli is just what Dr. Delicious ordered!
Yes, I'm a whore, just click the banner, will you?
So, last night, I was planning on spending a nice evening at home watching Empire Strikes Back and wondering why I don't ever hang out with people.
Then, an old friend from high school calls me and invites me to a dance club.
And then I'm reminded why.
But my inner voice says, "No, Lauren. You need to go out. Hell, maybe you'll even meet someone your age! This could be the best decision you've ever made!"
Then another voice says, "The force is strong in this one. Stay home. THESE AREN'T THE DROIDS YOU'RE LOOKING FOR!"
Then another voice says, "I want a cheeseburger."
Then I get into some metaphysical schizophrenic argument with myself, and before I know it, I'm at the club.
People, if you learn anything from me, learn this.
Everyone is an idiot.
Okay, I know I'm in the minority here, but bars and clubs are SO IDIOTIC.
Let's think about something here.
We reserved a bed. A BED.
Like one of those things you see in trendy swinger movies with 20-something hipsters.
So here I am, sitting on a bed with 20-something hipsters, hiding my tennis shoes, because there was a dress-code, and they'd snuck me in with their heels and rockstar shoes.
So there I am, sitting on the bed, ,my OCD kicking in and making me worry about everyone else's shoes messing up the sheets.
One of the chicks pulls me up to dance, so I oblige.
I like to dance, but I like to dance to make my friends laugh.
I don't actually have "moves," I have "ridiculous wigglings," and I'm not gonna do this here.
So I stuck to my consevative moves (which still rock).
But let's say that I came here to meet someone.
Reasons Why No One Should Ever Be Able to Meet Anyone At A Club:
1. Fucking Loud: You can't talk. You can't learn someone's name, number, or whether or not they are a complete psychopath/can speak English.
2. Epilepsy: Okay, let's just assume everyone ISN'T under the influence of alcohol. The lights are frigging flashing and blinding everyone and it's simultaneously too dark and too bright to see anyone.
3. Dance Circles: Okay. I only have the guts to go on the dance floor with someone I know. Whenever a strange guy grinds his way over, everyone I have EVER been to a club with scoots the hell away and then sighs loudly when they leave. Are we NOT there to meet people?
4. Sweaty and Disgusting: Is this hot to people? If so, then I should be a model.
5. Groucho Marx Syndrome: Does anyone actually want to date someone who was the type of person who dated people they met at a dance club?
6. Too Much Info: Do you think it turns me on that you know all the words to that song about milkshakes and yards? Does it turn you off that I know all the words (and choreography) to the song Footloose? Nobody wins here, people.
7. Damn, It Feels Good to Be a Gangster: Listen, Suits McBusinessman, I know you've been "grinding away" at the "rat race" all week, but is it really cathartic to change "rat race" to "slutty secretary who looks like she forgot 3/4 of her shirt"?
Somebody send out a memo that says you guys are lame.
Well, I can only think of seven.
And I did have a good time, but after having been there about an hour, I wished I had come later, so I didn't have to leave before everyone else like some kind of social leper.
I don't even think they bought my pumpkin/carriage excuse.
My apologies, dear internet, for my lack of interestingness.
I've been doing a lot of something, and that is not updating.
I am back on day shift, which is very, very nice, besides the fact that I have to go to bed at about 11:00 like I'm some kind of grandmother.
You know, when naval officers leave a submarine after living on it for months, they're asked to not drive for several days, because their eyes are so trained to be focused on things near to them, their perspective is all messed up.
That's what I'm like at work.
I should not be allowed to drive after staring at a computer for 7 1/2 hours straight.
I just stare ahead of me, fixed, fascinated, on objects in the distance and the pretty colors of the outdoors.
Then, on the drive home, I yearn for so much human interaction, I try to start conversations with drivers in cars next to me, despite the fact that we A) have our windows up, and B) are going 65 miles an hour.
Fall is upon us, and although I hate the chilly weather like nothing else, the trade I get for wearing itchy sweaters is the awesomeness of the trees, the smell of the air, and the all-around ambiance of Halloween.
I'm probably going to be Ace Ventura again this year.
I mean, I was going to be Harpo, but I'd rather have nobody know what I'm supposed to be in reference to the past decade rather than have nobody know what I'm trying to be in reference to sixty years ago.
So, my days are packed with sniffing air, going to apple cider festivals (Soergels, for you in-town kids), going to Haunted Amusment Parks (Kennywood), and visiting my rivet-but-not-goth friends in Baltimore (SDO).
When Felicia and I were having margaritas last night, I took advantage of Felicia's state of mind, and in between her insistence that wearing a fat kid on your head would be a great hat, I convinced her that I was going to get us a kitten.
It will likely never come to pass, but I tried.
Let's just hope wearing fashionable fat kids on your head never comes to pass.
Back to work, amigos.
PS -- Someone offered me a gmail account and I passed over it with wonton apathy, dimissing it as the latest ephemeral interfad.
Holy shit, do I need to write more. See? When I don't write for a long time, ridiculously colorful language and metaphors come deluging forth from behind the damn of silence.
Anyway, point is, could someone give me a gmail referral?
I want to be like the cool kids, too!!!
Update: I got one.
Thanks to everyone who offered!!
Lauren: Welcome to the shareholder's meeting, everyone.
I trust we'll be able to sweep away some old business, and keep on top of new business with all parties sufficiently satisfied.
Marshall, would you do the honor of reading the minutes from last week's meeting?
Marshall: Fuck you.
Lauren: Very well then.
Joe, will YOU read the minutes of last week's meeting.
Joe: Shh...studying.
Lauren: Ah, a joke that only people who go to precicely the same websites as me will get. Delightful.
Bill Scott: Objection, your honor. I would like to plug my website.
Lauren: Um...sustained? Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the website of my Pittsburgh comedy mentor, Mister Bill Scott. He's white.
Okay, now that we've got that out of the way --
Baron von Bunnowitz: By jove, I've got something to say!
Lauren: It's not the minutes of last week's meeting, is it?
Was anyone AT last week's meeting?
Baron von Bunnowitz: I object to the fact that you haven't updated your comic since last February.
Annoying HBM fans: [ In annoying unison ] YEAH! You've told us a hundred times why you haven't! I will continue to complain until you give us an answer, then we will forget Memento-style and continue to plague you until you shoot us point-blank in the skull.
Lauren: *sigh* I promised myself I wouldn't type this in all caps, but believe me, in my heart, every word here is.
My scanner is broken. Not only that, but since I reformatted, it does not work with my current operating system.
Considering I have the artistic ability of a dead monkey without a brain, it does not seem worth it to make a purchase at the whim of 4 rabid fans. I thank you for your support, and if you would like, I can add a scanner to my Amazon wishlist, and we'll see just how badly you really want me to update that section.
Sean: Didn't I give you a computer drawing tablet on your birthday in July two years ago? You remember, it was right before I dumped you in August.
Lauren: Yes. It was misplaced. Then set on fire.
Ryan: Did you tell them about how you beat KOTOR, and are thus the best video gamer player in all the land?
Lauren: Not yet, but you're correct.
Ryan: And how I couldn't finish it, myself, because my character was too weak, and also because I'm a pussy.
Lauren: Duly noted.
Felicia: Did you tell them about the lightsaber you saw in Borders today, and how you almost danced around the store, shadow fighting and making lightsaber noises, until you remembered I was applying for a job there?
Lauren: No, but maybe at NEXT week's meeting, something like that could end up in the MINUTES of this meeting --
Felicia: Or about how a couple months a go, you bought KOTOR and your computer was too slow, but because you're so smooth and slick...
Lauren: Not to mention dashing, attractive, witty --
Felicia: ...you convinced Best Buy to let you return it for store credit, a feat unparalleled by lawyers the world 'round.
Lauren: And how, when buying the Star Wars boxed set at Best Buy today, you yanked on my shirt like a four-year-old until I squandered the rest of my Best Buy credit purchased the Mr. Show third season for you, even though I haven't even finished the first season myself?
Felicia: ...yeah, did you tell them that?
Lauren: No. All right. Since no one has the minutes, let's open up the floor to this week's discussion.
Emo: I'm really annoying, and I don't know why everyone likes me so much.
Lauren: Right. Now, does anyone have any questions or comments *pertaining* to website maintenance?
Jed: Yes. My site sucks. Everyone should come to it. Wait, no, I stopped updating. Wait, no, I have a new site. Wait, no, I suck. I am going to design a tattoo that illustrates human misery and the pain of the internet.
HBM Fanboys: wE HaTe You! LOLZ!
Lauren: MY website. Comments on MY website.
Internet User #54647: Why can't I ever find your email?
Lauren: Did you click the link right below every single post that says "email" on it?
Everyone Who Comments Lately On Topics That Have Either Absolutely Nothing To Do With The Conversation Or Is Just Some Random Unfounded Sycophancy: I really need a blog of my own.
Lauren: Clearly.
Internet User #7658: Why don't you ever update regularly? Like the last week?
Lauren: I got misplaced. Then set on fire.
Internet User #65478 (the black guy): Nah, for realzies? Fool, what you playin' us fo'?
Lauren: Actually, I bought a skateboard.
Uh, yes, the guy in the back.
Brett: Isn't that just desperate plea for your lost youth? A symbol of a quarter-life crisis? Do you actually think you'll look cool? Maybe your mom should join a band. Will that make her cool, too, Lauren? Will it?
Lauren: You make good points, there, Brett, but the fact of the matter is, I've always wanted to skateboard, and this winter, I plan on learning to snowboard as well, instead of the usual yuppie skiing I've such a fondness for.
Hsiu: Ah, so your ankle is healed, I see.
Lauren: Actually, I think I resprained it today trying to do an Ollie.
Did Tony Hawk fall over like a retard a whole lot? Also, did he scream like a pretty, pretty girl?
Well, that's about it for today's meeting.
I'd like to thank you all for coming here.
I'd also like to give a shout-out to all my peeps on the Night Shift at work.
I'll miss you guys a lot.
Night Shift: (in unison) Who are you again?