Gravatar and Burning Hair

The more I fiddle around on WordPress, the more I realize I have no idea how to use it.

Same goes for Gravatar. Do we not live in an age where the photo you just updated should actually update? I need answers people. Immediate gratification. Which is why I watched 8 episodes of Game of Thrones today. 

Patience has never been in my wheelhouse. I’m looking up “wheelhouse”  right now because I’m not sure I’m even know what it means. I NEED TO KNOW NOW. Is it synonymous with “skill set?” To be continued. 

In disturbing news, I straightened my hair today (keep reading). As most hair-straightener-users know, that when you turn the temperature dial up to 450 degrees, your hair tends to smoke when the volcanic plates press your hair into submission. It’s something I’ve known since I was in 9th grade when I first starting burning my curls. In that 10 years, I’ve never experienced the travesty I did today. As my tresses were screaming for mercy under my godless rule, smoke billowed up (from the heat defender spray you have to douse your hair in so it doesn’t turn into a bail of hay) I turned my head towards my fire locks. A mouth breather by default when I’m by myself, I inhaled a puff of smoke. Very similar feeling of when you smoke for the first time. Burn, burn, hack, hack, hack, burn, hack. It was a sensation and taste I wish on no enemy. I have no enemies, but again, Game of Thrones. I’ve been talking to my cat in an English accent for the past couple days. Good thing she doesn’t know what “whore” means. 

In more disturbing news, I’m still looking for a job. Hire me to write the next big sitcom? Cool, cya there. 

Lots of love or something,

Lolo von Burntmyhairandateittoobergstein

Miley

MileyMileyMileyMiley!

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MILEY!

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MileyMileyMiley,

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A Terrible Motivational Speech

I did a parody of Ira Glass’ famous and lovely quote on storytelling and writing. It hardly makes sense. Enjoy.

“Nobody tells this to n00bs. I wish someone told me. All of us who eat food, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you eat stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you to buy that $400 Kitchen Aid mixer with all the attachments, is still killer. And your taste is why your food disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they take Tums, have violent bouts of diarrhea and quit. Most people I know who eat and make interesting food went through years of this. We know our food doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have (cinnamon). We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is just eat a lot of food. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will eat one sundae. It is only by going through a buttload of sundaes that you will close that gap, and your homemade froyo will be as good as Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta loosen your belt and fight your way through it.” -Roth Plastic

I Ate Recalled Food

It would certainly explain the face rash I’ve been blaming on spider bites.

I got an automated phone call from the grocery store the other day, saying the lettuce I bought was contaminated with a bacteria that has too many consonants smashed together to pronounce correctly. They didn’t say that verbatim but I could tell in that robot-demon’s electronic death voice, that that’s what she meant.

Lucky for me and my little knowledge of how things actually work, I eat a grotesque amount of yogurt. My point being is that those little invisible health soldiers that live in yogurt helped give me less diarrhea than normal and fight off whatever flesh eating disease I could have contracted. Or at least I haven’t noticed anything yet, I can’t really say I’ve look at my ass in a while. The face rash though, I just thought those spiders were suffering from famine and had to sacrifice dignity over necessity.

Death Becomes Her. (I’m Referring to Myself When I Say Her. I’m Her. Death Becomes Me.)

Everyone harbors special talents that really may serve no purpose except to entertain ourselves. Bragging is unattractive, but I can eat 4 pieces of Texas Toast and sit through 3 seasons of the Sopranos without blinking/exhaling/contemplating my mortality and misguided life choices.

Among giant bread scarfing, filtering my identity out of photos, and mouth breathing, I do have one hidden talent that has remained hidden, as to not frighten the kids/my mom/your nana+papi. ESPECIALLY, your nana+papi. I don’t know if that’s a real word people use for their grandfathers or if I’ve just been exposed to JLO too early in my life to know any difference.

Back to my talent, or maybe it’s more of a condition, but I  have a knack for predicting when someone is about to feel the dank kiss of death. Sometimes days before, sometimes months before they die. DON’T X OUT YET. I have a pretty solid record of being right about it. I can’t name names specifically (at least not usually) but I can tell if male/female, age range, and what type of relationship I have to them. Kind of like those cats that walk around hospitals and snuggle with the old people who are about to die.

WEIRD, RIGHT?

Feel free to ask questions. It’s weird and I don’t even really understand it, but that’s like most secret abilities and gifts, I suppose.

Normally, I would have never shared this on here but it happened when a distant relative died this past week and I was thinking about how I still hadn’t come up with a post for the week. HEHE.

Alright kids, enjoy your Monday!

Love,

Lolo von Iseedeadpeoplebutnotreallythatdbeweirdasshitsteinbergsongirl

P.S. Enjoy this picture of Peaches.

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Weird Things Happen

I love when weird things happen. I could sit and read stories about synchronicity and serendipitous moments until my head explodes.

This week in “My Life is a Whirlwind I Can’t Make Sense of, but That’s Cool I Guess”, I’ve heard The Doors’ song “People are Strange” about four times. The Doors remind me of my dad, who LOVED them, and after hours being forced to listen to them, I find that that song is the one I didn’t hate the most. Even today I heard it and turned to my friend to tell her I’ve heard it more times this week than I think they’re allowed to play on the radio anymore.

Flash forward to this evening when I was locked inside my room, following in my father’s footsteps to the recliner in front of the TV. I just started watching season one of the Sopranos, a show he watched from beginning to disappointing end. I turn in on, about 15 minutes goes by, and a character says “I keep hearing this song in my head, ‘People are Strange.’ You know, by the Doors.”

I had to pause it and try not crap my pants. Out of every episode, I watched that one today. A show shot in 1999. By golly.

In other news, I bought a K-Cup rack on sale for $4.77. They retail $25-35. I nearly spiked it in the middle of Kohl’s, I was so excited.

In even more spike worthy news, I got to interact with the lovely Mara Wilson via Twitter today. I’ve seen her in a couple interviews lately, mostly being prodded with questions about her growing up as a child-star. She seems like an incredibly intelligent, articulate, and funny woman, so I was very excited that she responded to my comment. I take any opportunity to talk or make a joke about The Wire. She even followed me back. I don’t care if it’s petty, that’s pretty friggen great to me.

I hope you guys enjoyed Daylight Savings. I’ll take a 6:44pm sunset after this winter. 50° weather calls for shorts and sunscreen in New England.

I missed Throwback Thursday, so enjoy this picture of my cat who really loves me.

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Goodnight!

Love,

Lolo von Ishovedmyretainersontomyjaggedteethowsteinberson

Can Hardly Use PhotoShop

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I made this masterpiece for you guys. I don’t own any of the above images that I smashed together.

If you didn’t hear, there’s a new Furby out called Furby Boom. They had a cute advertisement but I think mine’s cuter.

GOW4LYF.