Friday, January 23, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 8: Fugly Dolls that will haunt you

Some toys just don't need to be over-the-top. Some dolls can just be ever-so-slightly twisted and result in something so beyond messed up that you find a scream is caught in your throat. These are one example of just that.







Sweet dreams.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 7: Voodoo Dolls

Have you ever tried to fashion your own voodoo doll and then stick pins into it in the hopes of causing unbearable pain to someone who'd wronged you? Well, I have. I think I attempted it after an episode of Scooby Doo where Shaggy was accidentally sticking pins into Scooby's voodoo doll, causing the canine to yelp in pain while doing a sort of jiggy-dance. But I can't be certain, as most of my childhood memories are obscure and vague.

Behold the Voodoz dolls!

The Voodooz comes with:

· Four voodoo pins
· Removable heart trinket
· Chicken foot
· Binding twine
· Journal booklet
· Accessory storage bag


First of all, I hope the instructions explain what the chicken foot is for. Because I've heard people eat that shit. Grossssss. There could be some confusion there. Second, why would anyone document their voodoo-ing in a journal. If I were going to torture someone with relentless voodoo-ism, I would NOT document it for the cops to find. Although, I'm not sure that voilence inflicted via voodoo is actually a crime. Hey, I might be onto somethin'...

Are those real teeth? Cause they look like it. I'm still trying to figure out what the hole in the middle of his body is for... on second though, maybe I don't want to know.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 6: Puppet Show Terrors

Bunky the Hand Clown and Death Row Joe just don't sound like friendly characters to me. But hey, you can decide for yourself.





What's up with Bunky having a tongue ring???

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 5: Symptom toys

Tired of feeling depressed? Do you have an itchy scalp? Or shortness of breath? Well, these pills are just what you need!




Pills are wonderful and awful at the same time. While pills like Xanax do wonders for a scaredy-cat flyer air traveler, like myself, the overprescribing of antibiotics and Ritalin is scary. I am very weary to take antibiotics unless absolutely necessary because you can develop an immunity to them, and then someday if you really need them, they might not work. Scary stuff.

And because I grew up with a father who's an internist (and because of my tendency for hypochondria), I will share a bit of knowledge with you: how to know if you need antibiotics. If you have a head cold or a flu-like illness, you need to check your nasal drainage, aka. boogies or snots. If they are clear, you are fine. If you wake up in the morning and it's yellow, but then it goes to clear during the day, you are fine. If they are yellow, gray, green or anything other than clear for a day or two straight, you need antibiotics. Other than that, when dealing with colds and flus, there is no need to take them.


*** Disclaimer: I am NOT a doctor, nor to I profess to be, so taking my advice may result in prolonged illness, difficulty swallowing, or death. ***

Monday, January 19, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 4: Teddy Scares

Oh, the soft and cuddly teddy bear. We all had one. In fact, I still have two that sit quietly beside my bed. However, if I were given teddy bear as a kid, I think I would have had nightmares about giant franken-teddies chasing me with big bloody cleavers....






The prison teddy is kinda cute. Call me crazy, but he almost reminds me Sloth in the Goonies. He's a little droopy-eyed and dopey looking.


Goonies is one of the greatest movies ever.

*****


Oh, and this week's S2S Award: For Superlative Blogging goes to someone who I know will love these teddy bears (and the Goonies). In fact, she'll probably buy one of each and put them all on her bed at once, like Claudia (Kirsten Dunst) in Interview with a Vampire. And she'll probably even store a dead body under them, just like Claudia in the movie, after she's driven to madness by my highly effective "Freak Week" posts.

And this week's winner is..... {horns please.....}

She's Lump!!!!

Oh, how I love thee, Lumps. Well deserved indeed.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 3: Bloody Sock Puppets

There's something about a sock puppet that is "old school" and makes you a little nostalgic. But when they look like this, it's hard to reminisce about the old days.




I particularly like the unicorn disemboweling the teddy bear. And the unicorn is pink! It's so deceiving. If I were a cuddly little teddy bear, I would never suspect a cute, pink unicorn of being a homicidal maniac. Very stealth, unicorn. Very stealth indeed.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 2: Living Dead Dolls

These Living Dead Dolls leave you wondering WHY?




And who buys this crap? I mean, am I tempted to buy one just because it's so freaking disturbing that it almost invites me to waste my hard-earned cash on it? Yes. But that is besides the point. The point IS don't you wonder who manufactures this stuff? If I were one of the line workers who QAs these dolls, I think I would be in a perpetual nightmare state, running around with my hands clasped to my ears and mumbling some crap about thong panties and the end of the world...

Anyway, nighty-nite people.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Twisted Toys, Day 1: Butthole Bear

This is the first in a series of pre-published posts that I put together for you, my bloggy friends, while am away in Mexico, basking in the sun, and wishing you were there.

*****

Once upon a time, in a far away forest land of Plush Animals, a new, different type of Teddy Bear was born. Different from all the Teddy Bears, he found it hard to fit in, kept at finger's length by all his family and friends. That is, until the day that a certain vice president invented the Internet.

BEHOLD! Butthole Bear, the Teddy Bear with a plush, interactive BUTTHOLE!


I particularly am interested in the IAS functionality. I almost feel like it's something I should covet... but I'm not quite sure why...

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Hasta la vista

As you may already know, I'm getting hitched tomorrow at City Hall and then immediately headed off to Mexico where we will have the "real" ceremony. I'll be back super late on the 24th of January. As a preventative measure, so as not to lose you all as the devoted readers that you are, I decided to pre-published posts for you to chew on while I'm away. When I saw *chew*, it's more like pudding then bubblegum, but it's something nonetheless.

These *chewy* posts are an 8-part series that features toys that are twisted, sick, dark or just plain wrong. I don't have kids, and don't know when I'll have them, but I'm pretty certain that these are not meant for actual tiny people, aka children, not midgets. I hope you can find some delight in these grotesque little treats.


I'm so excited about the upcoming 8-part "Freak Fest" that I almost wish I was here to see your comments when you comment like mad on my posts!

Talk to you when I'm back, when my initials (in real life) will actually be S.S.S. Lovely. At least my first name doesn't start with an "A".

And with that, I leave you with this:



And because Beyonce does such a great job in this video, I'm linking to the actual Single Ladies video. I mean, seriously! you have got to be VERY secure with yourself to be flapping your arms and legs around like that in a skin tight leotard. Go girl.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

My anti-feminist feminism

So, I'm changing my last name. There, I said it. We'll get to that in a second.

There was a time in my life when I thought that feminism was a negative thing. I associated it with lesbians and woman who were on a revenge mission against the men who had scorned them. Only in my 20's did I realize that feminism is something I needed to embrace.

I realize that the term "feminism" stems from a time when women couldn't vote and didn't have a chance at equality, but the word still rings true today. Women may be able to vote, and definitely have more opportunities than they did decades ago; but the truth is that we still have a long way to go. Only a small percentage of Fortune 500 CEO's are women, and on average, women are still earning 20-25% less than men in the same roles. So, while we've made great strides, we still have work to do.

Having worked in corporate America in a professional capacity for nearly a decade now, I have seen this first hand: I've seen female colleagues not ask for the raises they deserve; I've seen the "boys club's" exclusivity and the *perks* that go along with being a member (promotions, raises and general favoritism); and I've seen women who stand up for themselves, including myself, who are viewed as bitchy instead of confident. It's frustrating. And I always thought that there was nothing I could do except work harder to get to the top. Until recently.

Within the past few years I've discovered several women's groups that are specific to my industry (media/technology). At first I was weary of these groups, thinking they would be about bashing men and complaining about the current inequities. I soon realized that they were about more than that. They took a positive angle. Rather than taking an anti-men stance, it was about supporting fellow women professionals in every way we can and networking together. I found this to be very inspiring, and so far, I've already made dozens of great contacts, some that have helped me personally and professionally, and some that I've helped both personally and professionally. It's a reciprocal environment, and people genuinely want to help each other.

This leads me back to my choice to take Mr. T's last name. There was a time in my life when I thought I'd keep my last name--- because to take his last name was to lose myself, my independence. Additionally, on my father's side of the family there are only girls, and only a few of us (myself, my sister and my cousin to be exact). This means that if we all take new last names, then our last name (as horrific and Scottish as it is!) will cease to exist! This scared me more than anything. I considered hyphenating. But to be honest, I despise the hyphen. You never know whether to just call a woman by the actual fully hyphenated name, or omit the hyphen, or what?! It's so confusing. And creates long email addresses. I also realized that to truly be a feminist, I needed to make my own decision, independently from any external pressures. Finally, I came to the conclusion that there is a spiritual connection about sharing a last name, regardless of who's it is, his or mine. There something about being Mr. and Mrs. ____ together. That is why I chose to take his last name. (Plus, my last name is totally awful, and his is pretty swanky.) It's a symbol of our relationship, our connection, our choice to build a life together, and to officially become family.

So, my initials will officially become S.S.S., The Snake.

hiiiisssssssssssss....

Monday, January 12, 2009

This week's winner goes to a true, heartless competitor

This week's award goes to a blogger who has something I truly admire, a little thing I like to call.... relentless competitiveness. This girl ain't going down without a fight. She'll shove you out of the way, steal your car keys, or trample little puppies to get to the finish line before you. Ah, people, this is truly something we should each strive for.

I didn't give her the first ever S2S Award because I wanted to torture her, and teach her that sometimes it's okay to NOT come in first.

And the third winner of the S2S: For Superlative Blogging Award goes to...

Chrisy from Csquaredplus3!

One single post of Chrisy's turned me into an avid follower--- it's called The Competitive Couple.
Before I read the post I thought this was about how married/non-married couples become competitive with each other. E.g. how my best friend always kicks her husband's ass at Wii Fit just because she can, or how I relish in beating Mr. T at Scrabble multiple times in a row, or like this couple, or like Brad and Angelina in Mr. & Mrs. Smith (man, I loved that movie).

Let me paraphrase her post for you, and then you can head on over there for a read: A new couple joined Chrisy's fairly small gym. Her gym has exactly 3 elliptical machines, so it wasn't possible for this couple and Chrisy and her friend to all be on the ellipticals at the same time (for the mathematically challenged, 4 people don't fit on 3 ellipticals at the same time). But this couple liked to be side by side so they could talk, as did Chrisy and her friend. What started out as a friendly competition of showing up earlier and earlier to get the dual ellipticals turns into a cutthroat face off. Don't forget to read her follow up post, Fake Smiles Can Cut Like A Knife, where her friend prevents her from actually beating this competitive couple once and for all.

My official stance was that she should have swung by the couples' house on the way to the gym and slashed their tires.

Welp, there you have it. Chrisy - I think I've filled my linkback quote for you for like ten years, seeing as I link to you four times in about 300 words. Congrats!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Just pretend you like reading this

I haven't posted about my cats, or cats in general, in a while. Mostly to spare you. But just indulge me every once in a blue moon, alright people?!

My baby kitten, Tonks, is turning into a giant. When we first brought her home, at 8 weeks, she was very tiny for her age (a mere 1.5 lbs). And she looked like a bat. At first we thought that our first-born kitten, her big sister, Hermione (Hermy, for short), would kick her ass and break her in two. But she was tough. Tonks stood her ground, fought back, and played hard. Now she rules the house, and everyone in it. In the 2 months that we've had her she's more than quadrupled in size! Most kittens are supposed to weigh a pound per month in age. She's 4 months old and well over 5 lbs. Plus, her tail is freakishly long, so we think she's going to be a very big girl.

Now they love each other more than they love us. They prance around, chase each other, groom each other, romp around as if they were one giant ball of intermingled fur, share food and toys, and occasionally clean each other's butts. Now that's a true sign of love! (Mr. T - NO! I will not clean your butt as a sign of my undying affection. Not even on our honeymoon! No matter how many times you ask!)

Look at this little baby Tonks. She's such a muffin.


And this is my big girl, Hermy. Her markings are gorgeous because she's a Tortoise Shell, which also means she's oober-fiesty (and bitchy).



And yes {sigh}, let's go through the motions again. Yes. We named both of our cats after Harry Potter characters. Yes. We're giant dorks. Yes. We've read the books like 8 times each. And yes. We plan to read them all again sometime soon. And no. Mr. T would NOT let me name her Severus instead of Tonks.

This video absolutely cracked me up. I WISH! I had a treadmill so I could see if my cats would do this. They would probably just tumble off again and again, which would actually be even funnier.



And now I'm here to bring you your daily/weekly/annual dose of cuteness. You can thank me later (or now, by leaving me a comment).

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Stop touching me with your long toenails (Alternate title: why midget feet are creepy)


So I just finished reading Catcher in the Rye. And now I'm a bit confused. Hopefully, you, my bloggy friends, can help me.

Now I don't want to go around bashing novels that are considered borderline god-like, but I really don't get this book. And it could be because I'm reading it 15 years too late. I never read it in high school, though I'm not sure why. I remember it being offered, by I think I selected an alternative book that was being offered at the same time. Anyway, I have recently been on a reading frenzy and am trying to go back and read some of the classics that I've never gotten to.

If you've read this book, you know it's a quick read, and that the entire book is about this teenager who is the most miserable, depressed, sonofabitch in Manhattan. Everything makes him angry, annoys him, or makes him want to punch someone in the face (which I can sort of understand).

I get the whole teen angst thing. I've been there. But there is nothing in this novel but whining and bitching and rants. There is also a scene with a prostitute, copious amounts of smoking and drinking, and lots of swearing, which makes it interesting to me that high school students are encouraged to read this. He's obviously hurt, depressed and deeply lonely. And that's all very sad. But I'm truly having a hard time understanding the point of this novel, and why it is such a classic.

Anyone want to chime in and give me some insight here?

PS - you are encouraged to make me feel stupid and all un-literate-like here.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

My ass looks like two raccoons stuck in a gunny sack


This is how I feel. I've eaten so much crap, sugar, partially hydrogenated oils, high fructose corn syrup, vast quantities of cheese and cheese products, that I've started dreaming about giant cookie heads yelling at me to STOP THE MADNESS!!!

Seriously.

Even my kitties are starting to look yummy. The more crap you eat, the more you want. It's a vicious cycle really. I'm convinced this is the single reason that McDonald's is so successful. That, and I'm convinced they lace their fountain sodas with cocaine.

Every year, starting with Thanksgiving, I give in and eventually eat whatever I want for an entire month. Yeah, I spend a few days trying to be good after the Turkey Day feast, but then it all goes to hell in a basket full of donuts. There's no turning back after that first day that a co-worker brings in sugar cookies. Until you put on your favorite pair of jeans in the New Year and realize they don't fit any more. There's stretching where they shouldn't be and you kinda feel like there's a ferret in your pants, taking up extra room. But then you realize it's your ass.

Maybe it was the entire tub of dip I ate with those potato chips? Or the 2 lb. block of cheese that I ingested with my pinot noir? Or that half of a giant raspberry tart that the family friend made from scratch with 6 sticks of butter? Well, now they are all sitting on my ass like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderful, laughing at me, point and humming a cheery little tune. No one can see him but me. He's a wiley little sucker. If I were the Queen of Hearts, I would totally go all "Off with his head!" on his ass. In fact, my ass kinda looks like hers right now.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The Bachelorette Party: Undisclosed

First of all, what the hell kind of gang symbol am I flashing here? I wanna believe it's meant to represent the West Side, which is where I pledge my Manhattan allegiance, but honestly... the fact that I've paired it with the white man's overbite means it could represent any number of things. Most of which I'd rather not get into right now. And you can really tell this is an "action shot" because my earring looks like it's about to fly out of my earlobe.

I could analyze this shot for hours, even talk about the fabulous, nameless breast behind my right shoulder. But I won't.

I had no idea what we were doing. My best friend (my informal "MOH") planned the whole thing down to 10-minute increments, being the rockstar that she is. The b-party started at 3pm in the West Village at a little, zen nail shop, where we all got manis and pedis. It was definitely a nicer place because they washed your feet with grapefruit-scented water in a copper bowl while they served you green tea. It was a thing of beauty really. The girls brought champagne and we drank ten a few bottles whilst we were tended to. Needless to say, since I got my feet done first, by the time my mani was underway I was half in the bag. At this point, I had a conversation with my manicurist that went like this:

Me (laughing at my future-sis-in-law, who was already drying her nails across the room): "BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Mani-lady: "blechndfd sjdier ieter."

Me: "What?!"

Mani-lady: "Could you please be quieter?"

Me (more loudly): "What?"

Mani-lady: "Could you please keep your voice down?"

Me: "Oh. Um. Ok."

I was very confused. Apparently, I was being too loud. Which is something I rarely ever do. But my being shushed in a practically empty nail salon means I was a little out of control.

After nail time, we went back to my best friends apartment for some nosh, present opening, and to get ready for our night out.

I got some pretty great pre-wedding presents from my peeps: some racey lingerie, dental floss thong panties, warming boobie oil (yes, it's really called that), edible body paints, and cute matching t-shirt with boy-shorts pajamas. But the cream of the crop was the Sculpta-Sutra: Clay Kama Sutra Modeling Kit. I mean, doesn't it speak for itself???


This is directly from the packaging on the Scupta Sutra box:

"Sculpta Sutra is the world's first 3D guide to the Kama Sutra. Sculpta Sutra is a fun, hands-on way for partners to learn more about adventurous love making and, ultimately, more about each other. The kit includes enough modeling clay to build two very, very flexible sex instructors who (along with the guide book) will bend over backwards to teach you all they know."

I mean, who wouldn't want their own set of naked clay people to mold and position as they wish?! I'm totally making my guy have a pot belly and back hair–you know, the greasy porn star look.

After cooing over my new Gumby sex dolls, we headed out. We dined at China 1, a restaurant/club in the East Village. She had ordered a pre-fixed meal that she thought I'd like ahead of time. Awesome idea, right?! The food was great. We sipped on red wine from Montalcino and champagne cocktails with lychee nuts.

Because there is nothing traditional about my wedding, I had told my MOH that there were several things I didn't want for my bachelorette party: 1) strippers or barely-clothed excited men of any kind, 2) a tiara, sash, or anything that would be a dead giveaway that I was a partying bride-to-be, and 3) a night filled with shots that would result in copious amounts of vomiting.

She did a great job adhering to these conditions. The only slight digression was the shots part. And it wasn't her fault, really. One of my presents included a shot ring. Yes, folks, an awesome ring that opens and closes, allowing you to fill it up with the liquid of your choice and down it like it was nobody's business. It. Was. Awesome. Because of this, I HAD to get a shot at dinner to try out my new accessory. They ordered me Patron Cafe, an espresso flavored tequila. It was so good that I had three more after that. And they each had two. Yes, it's that good.

Needless to say, the night ended up with Karyoke in a dive bar, with more shots, us dancing, flirting with indi-wanna-be-rock-boys-who-look-like-12-year-olds-with-moustaches-on-myspace and making fools of ourselves. But it was a great night and I was happy to have my favorite girl peeps with me. Sadly, I gave my shot ring to the indi-wanna-be at the end of the night. I wish I hadn't. He didn't deserve it.

Oh, and savor this bloggy friends, because you'll never see me with anything this vulgar in my mouth ever again. There are very few occassions in life when you can get away with perverted crap like this and people won't judge you (at least to your face): bachelor/ette parties, 21st birthdays, the occassional mid-life crisis drinking binge, and anytime you are in Las Vegas. This is me, drinking from my shot glass ring with my penis straw (I was under duress people).

Monday, January 5, 2009

Today's S2S Award goes to...

So, since I've been a bad blogger and not posted in over a week, therefore not awarding anyone the prestigious S2S Award: For Superlative Blogging last week, this person technically gets it for two weeks in a row. Does that make sense? It may not. It may just be my futile attempt at making myself feel better for falling off the bloggin' wagon over the holidays.

Anyway, I digress, enough about me. This person is someone who I look forward to reading about every day. They crack me up, and make me wish I was as inherently funny and didn't have to try so damn hard.

And the award does to...

Pearl from Pearl, Why You Little...

I heart Pearl. With all my heart.

Whoa! I'm back!

Wow. I feel guilty.

I haven't posted since 12/27/08. And now it's 1/5/09. Shame. On. Me. How I've missed you all!!! I can't wait to read all of your recent posts!

So the holiday season was a whirlwind of travel, as usual. We spent Christmas with Mr. T's family, then went home to Mass to visit my family for three days. Then we came back to NYC for a night, before heading back out to NJ to see Mr. T's family again for New Year's. Craziness, I tell you. The ones who suffered the most were our poor kitties who were without us for days on end. Rest assured, they have each other so it's easier to feel guiltless about it.

So much has happened, where do I start? Maybe I'll resort to my good ole method of bulleting every out for you.

1. I made out like a bandit this year with presents. Apparently, I was a very good girl this year. Among many wonderful presents, I got an actual truffle, vacuumed-sealed and everything, as well as a bag of saffron the size of my fist. I can't wait to cook wonderful dishes with these.

2. I didn't get a Wii for Christmas. Again. Bah-humbug.

3. The cats only broke one Christmas tree ornament.

4. When visiting my grandparents, my grandmother wanted us to have something nice to drink with dinner. She said she had wine in the cellar, as well as behind the clothes dryer?!? We discovered more than a dozen bottles of wine that date back at least 20 years. Like many from their generation, they lived through the Great Depression, horde everything in large quantities, and never throw anything out. Every single bottle was think and brown and color. We opened each one, only to discover that they were vinegar. We actually poured one into a glass, and my grandmother proceeded to sniff it with great zest. She commented, "It smells like medicine.... with ether." After this description, she proceeded to take a sip, smack her lips, and say, "It's not so bad."

5. On New Year's Eve I "tied one on". I wasn't planning to drink a lot, and I'm not a big New Year's celebrator, but boy, was I hurting on January 1st. Apparently, shortly after midnight I was discovered in the kitchen, along with my future-sis-in-law, chugging an entire bottle of champagne, because OH NO! we couldn't go to bed without finishing the entire bottle. Feeling like crap is not a great way to ring in the new year.

6. I completely failed against my pre-New Year's resolution to watch every George Romero zombie movie. Not only did I not watch every one, but I didn't even watch one in its entirely. Woe is me.

7. My bachelorette party was this past Saturday night. It was nothing too crazy (e.g. there were no strippers or general naughtiness), but man oh man, I have great friends and family. They went to great lengths to plan this thing and make it perfect. However, I do want to post tomorrow IN DETAIL about this event, as it's well worth the wait.

Happy New Year to you all!