Buying Stuff & Thinking About Buying Stuff

packed closet

Not my closet, but a reasonable approximation.

You know what always sounds like a really fun time? Buying stuff. You know what’s almost better than buying stuff? Thinking about buying stuff. I can spend hours just poring over shopping sites, flash sale sites, even just plain fucking Amazon. (I love you, Prime!)

Well, that’s got to stop. I have too much stuff. No one needs this much stuff. It’s ridiculous.

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Whatcha Realizing, Jerk?

whatcharealizinjerk

Simpsons-Impaired? Link.

So, it’s been exactly a month since I (re)started my self-portraits project. I thought I’d share a few high-level observations from the experience.

Observation 1: Mirrors Are Lying Liars That Tell Lies

Prior to this project, my standard morning ritual involved at least a cursory glance in the mirror before heading out the door, but no extended dawdling. During this project, however, I’ve been spending a great deal more time consulting the mirror, who has told me things like:

“Ehh, not bad.”

“Indeed, those colors work well together.”

“You are so totally pulling this off. What an off-puller, you!”

Well, guess what: those were all horrible, horrible lies. But, it took being confronted with the photographic evidence for me to realize it. More accurate statements would have been: Actually, yes, bad. In fact, those colors work badly together and you should feel badly. The only thing you’re really pulling is my eyes… from my head… because omg the pain. I can’t necessarily blame the mirror, though. Lying is in his very nature. The fault is mine. This is a lesson I should have learned long ago from Clueless… 

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Credit Where Credit’s Due

 

Oftentimes, my dreams will roll credits at the very end. It happens all the time.

The thing is, I never, ever get an Executive Producer credit.

This pisses me off to no end.

I mean, c’mon.

Protips, Volume One

Over the this many [holds up hands, twiddles fingers] years I’ve been alive, I’ve actually learned a thing or two. Please allow me to share with you just a few of my Protips for Existence.

  • PROTIP #1: If you’re ever granted three wishes, your first wish should be “No funny business.” In fact, you might as well end every wish with “And none of that Twilight-Zone-careful-what-you-wish-for nonsense.”
  • PROTIP #2: A surprising majority of the original Twilight Zone series can be summed up with  “Careful what you wish for.”
  • PROTIP #3: If you suspect you are in a Twilight Zone episode, MAKE NO WISHES.
  • PROTIP #4: If anyone ever asks you to guess her age, say your own age. That way, if she gets offended, YOU can get offended.
  • PROTIP #5: Donuts? Don’t mind if I do.

As I continue to learn how to be an adult human being, I will be sure to share more Protips. I promise that fewer of them will be related to the Twilight Zone in the future…

…OR WILL THEY?

Drum Machines Have No Soul

I once read that people who place bumper stickers on their cars are more likely to exhibit road rage.

I guess if this were the one sentiment I deeply felt I needed to express to the world and the only means I had for doing so, I’d be pretty pissed off, too.

An Observation: Tiny Hats

During some recent internet window shopping, I stumbled upon an unsettling trend: tiny hats. What is with these tiny hats? Are there women who fear their heads simply do not appear large enough and who must compensate by wearing a doll’s hat? Is “hydroencephalitic” a look we are actively attempting to cultivate? I am confused and befuddled. As a person with a rather enormous noggin, it has never occurred to me to accentuate this fact. “I have the head of a giant and mock your mortal accessories! They are as a child’s plaything to me! Look on my head, ye mighty, and despair!

Personally, I approach with apprehension any trend that can be traced back to Homer Simpson — particularly Homer Simpson as a prison snitch:

Though he does seem to be enjoying that tiny hat immensely.

From left to right:

Edited to Add: Tim & Eric recognized this market long ago: VIDEO.

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