Irrational Fears, the Post

I know I seem odd to some for my fear of balloons, but honestly, things could be weirder.

I have a fear of balloons because they can be dangerous & I have 10 million mini heart attacks in that moment one of those things pops. I'll be sure to attend no birthday parties if I live to be 80-90. Death by balloons? Nio thank you.

(My mother used to fear balloons & dogs & she once babysat for these kids that kept sending their violent lil Chihuahua to chase her around the table while they popped balloons all over the place. Needless to say she ran home crying.)

However, Billy's reference towards balloon tits & penises in his last comment did remind me that I do love balloon animals. Maybe their likeliness to pop a whole lot less has something to do with it too.

(In honor of Billy. Obviously someone out there knows what a fun time is. Mr. Happy is the perfect gift for your neighbor's doorstep. Puts a whole new spin on ding dong ditch.)

Who ISN'T going to love making silly or angry balloon penises?

According to our almighty lord, Google, this is the true definition of balloon penis....

I added the Groucho glasses. His bush was a lil offensive in the first place.

Though I did not intend for this to turn into a post about penises & balloon games, so moving on already.....

This balloon thing is about to get a lot less weird.

I know people who fear giraffes, marshmallows, butterflies, pennies.

(And I LOVE them for making me feel a whole lot less crazy.)

Thankfully, some of these fears seem to have much validation, so I guess it's good that I know a lil more than just a bunch of mentally insane people.

"The Giraffe Ate My Jacket"

(A tale of zoo animals, Finkelstein shit kids, and terror)

My best friend growing up, Kerri (A.K.A. Karl Malone), was a lil bastard of a kid. She would run her mouth, taunt things, always do stupid shit for a laugh, and from about the age of 6-10 Kerri had a mushroom cut to boot. She was a lil terror with a bad ass (but funny) haircut & a bad attitude.

One day Karl was at the zoo, standing outside the giraffe exhibit, totally leaving out the fact that she was probably taunting the shit out of this animal. I can hear it now "Haha, longy long neck, ugly ass giraffe, you want a piece of me?!"

Well, I guess before Kerri knew it this giraffe had her by the jacket, literally eating it off her body as this giant ass animal is slamming the lil bastard against the fence that stood between them, floppy mushroom cut n' all.

Kerri had managed to slip out of the jacket just in time but was left scarred for life.

And considering I had now idea about the normal behaviors of these things until now, I would be too.

Horny, Hungry Giraffes Gone Wild.

Luckily for her the chances of being sexually assaulted by the giraffe were probably slim considering that according to Sodahead, 50% of all male giraffes are homosexual.

Turns out he probably just wanted her jacket for his village people shindig.
(I bet you that horses name is Ralph.)

Unfortunately, I have no explanations for the marshmallows, butterflies, pennies, and other things people have personally told me they are afraid of.

So here's where we turn the rest of the work over to the phobia list. Take it away, lunatics....

phobialist.com

Alliumphobia- Fear of garlic.

Anthrophobia or Anthophobia- Fear of flowers.

Log dude isn't half as frightening as flying placenta guy. I can take that asshole in the middle, but happy, flying placenta is just too fucking creepy.

Arachibutyrophobia- Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth.

Apeirophobia- Fear of infinity.

Apotemnophobia- Fear of persons with amputations.

"Dicks."

Aulophobia- Fear of flutes.

Consecotaleophobia- Fear of chopsticks.

Euphobia- Fear of hearing good news.

Geniophobia- Fear of chins.

Ligyrophobia- Fear of loud noises.

So, what are you afraid of - Cake, nipples, maybe this post?

(I fear tighty whities as well. I can deal with them if I have to but they're f'n scary. I'm sorry.)

7 Facts (Or "Confessions" Because It's Just A Juicier Word)

So, I've been tagged by the lovely Marty of The Many Faces of Me for 7 Facts.

I just recently started following her & think she is awesome, so you should go check her out!

The rules are as follows......

* Copy and paste this award to your blog
* Thank and link to the person that tagged you with it. 
* List 7 facts about yourself
* Give the award to 5 other bloggers and tell them they have it.

I know I've started a new habit of receiving awards & passing them on under my F'n Flair page rather than in a post, but I am trying to get my readers & others to know a lil more about me, as well as posting a lil more often, and it is an easier way of passing it on.

So, let the horror games begin.

1. I am shit scared of the dark, ghosts, and balloons.

2. I'm an adrenaline junkie & into X-treme sports. I've had my fair share of skateboarding friends, and I'm the only person I/they know who can ride a skateboard goofy foot (Meaning I always put my right foot on the board first & push with my left. It takes skateboarders ages to master this, yet I can't skate the normal way), and barefoot.

3. I grew up on boats. When I was a tot my grandparents lived on a houseboat & then owned a marina in the Florida Keys, and every summer weekend back home my immediate family & I would spend the whole time on our cabin cruiser (even sleeping). We would get up on the water with the sunrise & go everywhere by boat. I was actually surprised when I learned you could even get to some of those places by car about 20 years later.

4.  Supposedly the average man thinks about sex every seven seconds. I think I got em' beat.

(I'm the furthest thing from whorey, though. I call it monogamously slutty.)

5. I haven't slept a night in over 2-3 years without my stuffed monkey

6. I took piano lessons for a few years, then went on to teach myself guitar for about 6 more, and there's not much I can't learn/play on that thing. (Now I got stars in my eyes for the drums.) I'm a music FANATIC.

7. My hobbies are nearly endless from clothes making to baking to gardening to decorating, and an ongoing list of crafting & designing whatever I can. And those are just some of my at home hobbies. I love to be out & about just as much. The list is way too long.

My Tagged Five

(Should they choose to accept)

Kelly from Psycho Carnival

Thundercat832 from Colorful Rants of A Fed Up Sista

Israel Carrasco of Israel Carrasco Monologue Jokes

Lynnora from Thoughts of A Randomista

Jenny from My Life As Jenny

Time for WTF Theater

I recently got around to thinking about movies that seriously mess up your mind & make you question what the hell happened in the end (or just through the whole damn thing), and I think I got some good mentionables on my lil list here.

We've all seen em'. Those movies that leave you sitting there utterly unable to close your jaw or un-wrinkle your forehead.

I know there are many more movies to add to this fun lil list, and I'll leave that up to you, but I'm going to focus on my top three here.

1. American Psycho

Okay, maybe this ending made sense to most people, but it left me a lil pissed off that I didn't get it.

Patrick Bateman is a wall street yuppie with serious OCD, and a lust for blood & hookers.

It all begins when he murders his co-worker, Paul Allen, in a raincoat in his living room with an axe, the whole time raving about how much he loves Huey Lewis & The News.

Just tell him you love Huey Lewis, dude. He's all bent out of shape.

This leads to a series of bizzare murders, including running down the hallway naked with a chainsaw, chasing a hooker, and dropping it on her ass from three floors up.

"Here's looking at you, hooker. I think I just crapped my pants."

But it all becomes fucky to me towards the end when he supposedly blows up cop cars & has helicopters after him, hiding under a desk, calling his lawyer. Then, meets his buddies for lunch the next day & nobody fucking cares & somehow he's now become Paul Allen, that other yuppie he hacked to death, and omg, why did this whole thing just become more complicated than a confused teenage girl?!

Was he Paul Allen to begin with? Did he imagine himself as Patrick Bateman & the whole thing?

Was that first yuppie back at his apartment a representation of the old him he wanted to kill off?

(Clearly, I just clarified my own confusion. Did I?) 

Maybe. Moving on.

2. The Naked Lunch

Holy NEVER watch this movie on hallucinogens like my girlfriend had me years ago!

This guy's a writer/journalist, I kind of don't remember, and he comes home one night to some dude banging his wife on the couch as another guy is standing by reading excerpts from the bible. He casually walks across the room & she staggers over & places an apple on her head. He then aims with an arrow & misses the apple, shooting his wife in the head, while the whole time the other dude is still reading the bible.

Then he gets turned onto bug powder & starts getting ridiculously high off this stuff.

Like, he was so high on bug powder his typewriter began to turn into this giant beetle type thing & starts talking to him.

At some point I'm sure this thing turns into a giant vagina, but I could have been imagining that!

Don't think it could get worse?

He starts hanging out with this guy next.

Meanwhile, no one has any idea wtf all these drug induced space age creatures are trying to tell this guy, and who cares, because this is just too fucking weird for words.

It makes no sense to me beginning to end, he just keeps getting higher & higher, and shit just gets weirder & weirder. The end.

3. Lost Highway

King of cinematic WTF's

HEYYYYYYYY!! What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On. HERE?!?

They're at home. Some weird tape arrives in the mail. I forget what's on it.

They're at a party. There's that weird guy creeping everybody out, and omg wasn't he that guy that murdered that chick in real life, like, for real, for real?

Phil Specter Murder Trial

My own blog is going to give me horrible nightmares because that's what THAT is the face of, my friends.

Bill Pullman's wife's personality & hair keep changing color (at least he thinks it's his wife), and all you can really gather is that she was somehow involved in porno (with horrible German music) & he didn't know about it.

He's driving down a highway. For like, a really long time.

I think he's lost. He should have been given a titular line.

"I'm so lost on this goddamn highway."

Oh, look there's a house. It's creepy video camera guy again, which is probably a sign you're about to die, and he refuses to tell you about your weird wife's vagina.

How can we really tell how it ends when the whole damn movie just lacks too much damn sense to comprehend or even remember.

Over the top, David Lynch. Over the top.

This one might have been better off at a fucked up mime porno film festival.

And that concludes our episode of WTF Theater.

I know you got some up your sleeve, or have seen one, or all, of these movies.

If you know any good ones, feel free to add them to the WTF list.

Asshat Dork Disorder? (OMG, Candy Balls!)

Or in MY case, better known as Adult A.D.D.

(There are monkeys on monkey bars, playing inside my head like a jungle gym right. now.)

 My silly, hairy lil friends. They're so goddamn funny.......until they bite someones face off. Why always with the face?

Regardless, I was one of them too you know, transported from laboratory to laboratory as shrinks watched me throw building blocks & beach balls around the room, and you know what the last one told me?

"I think you are suffering from adult attention deficit disorder."

This is where the Price Is Right theme song starts going through my head.

Omg, Sherlock, I think you're onto something because the whole time we've been sitting here I've been racing  down the highway in some type of bat mobile to some Top Gun type shit, maybe even traveling another country, maybe wearing flying goggles again, in my mind, and by the way how much are they paying you because I don't think I'm the one suffering here.

Trying to explain ADD in detail while also being a victim of it is kind of like having a strobe light seizure & feeling compelled to hang yourself with your own tongue.

(That was a lil too gruesome, even for me, and pretty much downright disturbing.)

Or maybe it's like being pumped full of coffee till it explodes out your eyes & ears.

(It's probably not like either of those.)

Omg, people, holy random Fabio nose bleed on a roller coaster & an apple pie, where was I?

Yes.......... Moments I knew when it had finally escalated out of hand.

*Peering at the TV for hours*

"Aaaaahahaha! You're laughing. Did you see that?"

"What?"

*Continues to gaze deeply into the TV screen*

"What's going on?"

"Are you even paying attention?"

"OH.....Uhhhh........nno."

"WTF?!?"

Honestly, I think that's because your company just bored me & I was busy thinking about having fun & horsin' around & things that involve fire & adrenaline & shit. More than likely something involving monkeys (or bananas) as well. Or things very similar to both.

A.D.D - For the depressed, easily bored & distracted, both? You decide.

But you know when I feel particularly insecure of it at times lately?

I love to read other blogs, and it's extraordinarily rare that a blog ever bores me because I love & appreciate all the differences & different walks of life, but it's so hard for me to sit & read anything for too long.

 (God bless mobile devices. Makes it a lil better. It actually HELPS sometimes to have other things going on around me. Somehow, this actually helps me focus better on what I'm intending to.)

So it's irritating when I go to read, intend to catch up, get through an older yet still recent post, comment, intend to get through & comment on the next one as well & OHMYGODLETMEFINDTHATMACNCHEESERECIPE!

And the next thing I know I'm in the middle of a Velveeta stare down & it went from reading & laughing a great post to sailing the seas of cheese with kaleidoscope eyes, milking cows & traveling to cheese factories around the world, and "if you fed a cow a whole shit ton of Hershey's syrup, would it squirt chocolate milk?".

(Kaleidoscope Cheese Wheel was the name of my old imaginary garage band. Or rather, now I realize it should have been.)

How cool would it be if the cracker crumbs were lil shipwrecked boats?

And then when asked what happened to the eagerly awaited side dish explain how I had to save my friends.

"Sorry everybody, we're eating out tonight, but it would only be right to have a moment of silence for all those men lost at sea."

And everyone says "WTF?!"

And you plead insanity. Because you can now, and aside from pretty much being the truth, it saves you from being that flaky blond chick.

Meanwhile, that page I was last on before my mind (& feet) shot up like a rocket is still open in my browser as I'm more than likely shooting silly string around the yard in a colander helmet, or WHO KNOWS?! Sadly, I'm not trying to be funny. I've always been like this.

If I could control the ADD, you'd be the last ones I'd ever "flake out" on, so here's where I extend my apologies If I ever have.

The relentless bastard has me in it's grip. Maybe it's the impairment for those with a lust for adrenaline, or rather, the completely crazy. Either way, (until the right cure or medication, at least) I'm stuck with it.

Aww, it loves me.

(On a serious note: I realize this IS a disorder that's not so funny when it's truly affecting your life as it has mine. I just look at the lighter, humorous side of everything, that's my thing. So don't think I'm not understanding any of you out there who's lives have been affected by A.D.D.)

Now go fetch these keys!! You know you want to.

Love the Ones You Know

 Because it's that time of year again. You know the one, when that drunk, naked lil shit with wings comes around with his bow & arrows, attempting to shoot you in the chest, resulting in a massive coronary.

"Teehee." Omg, aren't you f-ing hilarious you naked lil asshole...

Naked, flying, unstable dude with an arsenal of weapons, and this is supposed to be the day of love.
Sounds way more like a domestic violence call, to be followed up with quite the intervention.

If you're single with Valentine's Day coming up, forget all that romantic sorrow bullshit that will happen for you when the time is right (the romance, not the sorrow), and use this bubbly, heart filled holiday to display your love & appreciation towards other types in your life.

If every single mofo gifts another single mofo; friend or family member, dog, lizard, nobody will feel half as bad & focus on wtf wasn't done for them for this day of hormonal drama & inner turmoil.

Also, who isn't all tickled by the thought of having a secret admirer?

Wrong holiday altogether, huh?

Plus, he'll already be there when he calls, so he's steps ahead of most other men.

Maybe this is where the title becomes relevant.

Good for you. You're probably going to die.

Look, I'm happy just painting hearts on cookies in my kitchen & shit, and receiving some cinnamon hearts from dear mom. I've had plenty of Valentine's Days, some great & everything you could ever want, some terrible, whether spent hanging naked out of a hotel window with a bottle of champagne in hand or tossing pennies into a Chinese restaurant fountain, wishing your date would disappear, snowed in having sex for a week straight in front of a fireplace, or on a couch all day not speaking a word like a 90 year old couple.

So forget all that shit we're programmed to feel & take this day to celebrate the love you have for a parent or your kids, friends, pets, blow up dolls, butterflies & cucumbers, what have you.

Or you could just beat the shit out of yourself sexually & take you out to dinner. 

Hint to self: My favorite is Mexican.

Just don't propose this to the dog or your mom.

Save that freaky sex shit for the Internet, or just write me a rain check.

Whether you have it in your life romantically or not, you've got to love that thing called love, and pay tribute to the power of it.  Fucking. magic. 

*Poof*

(I totally just blinded you with lube.)

That dead chick with the duct tape is totally freaking me out.