A Very Special Episode of Frosty the Snowman...

Hello readers of my bog! What do we call you anyway? People who blog are bloggers, so are people who read blogs...bleaders? (I need a pint of A negative, STAT!) Anyhoo, it's Christmas and what better way to celebrate than take a beloved children's classic and make it wildly inappropriate! Thanks to one of my fave entertainers, Neil Patrick Harris, here we go....




How great was that? My favorite part was where he said he would punch a baby. It takes a lot of balls to punch a baby. I mean, most people just don't have that kind of nerve. Then it ends up being an advertisement for How I Met Your Mother. That's kind of lame. But still, SUPER funny.

Hope everyone has a happy holiday!

Horton needs to cowboy up...

I was watching Horton Hears a Who with a friend's kid yesterday and I think I've discovered the real meaning of the story. I love Dr. Seuss and all, but I found myself a little disturbed. It's not so much about "A person's a person, no matter how small." It's more about that bitch kangaroo needing to mind her own fucking business. Does it really matter that Horton talks to a speck of dust. I mean, I know there ACTUALLY IS a whole town on that speck, but what if there wasn't? What if Horton was really bat-shit crazy and talking to phantom Whos? SO FUCKING WHAT?! Is it hurting anyone? Is the dust speck telling him to take out the whole island? Maybe ritually sacrifice the baby animals? No. So what the fuck Jane Kangaroo. Why you gotta be up in Horton's grill like that. 

And why isn't Horton more protective of the dust speck? Seriously, you are all that stands between Whoville and total destruction. You can't fight back a little? Way to just give it up Horton. Dig deep and channel some of that repressed anger. You could have stomped that bitch kangaroo and punched her stupid baby. And what the hell is up with those monkeys? The Wickersham brothers. When did the Irish Mob go tropical? Come on Horton, stand up and fuck some shit up. 

Oh, and Jane Kangaroo? Come near my dust speck and I will cut you.....bitch.

Back Off Facebook Stalker!

So I'm on Facebook and I see I have a new friend request. Now, I'm super picky about my Facebook. I'm not friending anyone that I'm not actually friends with. I don't need to search out and friend everyone that I've ever come into contact with just to up my numbers. Like, "Oh remember me, random guy from that party at that chick's house?" No. If you're on my Facebook it means we actually have some sort of communication on a regular basis. I will, in fact, periodically delete people that I don't talk to. It's kind of cruel I know, but seriously, I don't care if some girl from high school that I had one class with is super excited about seeing New Moon. Fuck that.

So there's this girl that tried to friend me. We went to high school together. I knew who she was, but we weren't friends or anything. I don't even remember if I even liked her or not. So I ignored her. And I felt fine about it. Then a few days later she tried to friend me again. I'm confused. I know Facebook doesn't tell people when you ignore them. So is she waiting for me to friend her and noticing that I'm not? I still don't feel the need to be friends with this person so I ignore her again.

Cut to today. She is fucking TRYING TO FRIEND ME AGAIN! Bitch, get the clue! We never hung out, we had no classes or activities or ANYTHING together. And now you're just annoying. Back off stalker! Do you do this to everyone that won't friend you or is it just me? And why do you need me to be your friend on freakin' Facebook so badly? What the fuck?

So we'll see if she tries it again. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some people that just didn't make the cut...

Spatchcocking-Sounds dirty, doesn't it?

Every year I try to expand my culinary skills by attempting something that seems complicated or too fancy for everyday cooking. Last year, for example, I popped my prime rib cherry. 2009 is the year of the spatchcocked turkey.

Yeah, it's a flat turkey.

The lack of a backbone enables the turkey to cook faster and brown more evenly. Sadly, it also inhibits the turkey from standing up to bullies or saying how it really feels. Can I just say that I LOVE the (spatch)cock? This baby was done in under two hours and had none of that gross, not-crispy skin on the bottom. Also, way easier to move from pan to carving board. I had a slight problem with one leg being underdone and the other leg being perfect. I'm chalking that up to my crappy oven with it's evil, uneven heating ways.

Who knows what the future hold for my next culinary adventure. The ever daunting souffle? Or maybe that pork roast that looks like a crown? Stay tuned....

Fallout 3-Where things throw poo at you...

For those of you who aren't gaming geeks, Fallout 3 is a game where you roam the wasteland that is the United States 200 years after huge nuclear war. I only know this because a better part of my evenings are spent watching Chris play. There are raiders and ghouls, huge scorpions and bear-things, super mutants and slavers....all in all a wonderland of things trying to kill you. Or eat you. A typical mission goes something like this....

Chris blasts the head off a raider attacking him. Blood gushes, the body spinning mid-air in slow motion...

Chris: (yelling) That's what I'm talkin' about motherfucker! Fuck You! (now checking the body for supplies) Sweet! Mole rat meat! (seriously)

Me: Ewww. Dude, if the apocalypse comes around just kill me now. I'm soooo not down for MOLE RAT.  Maybe the squirrel on a stick. (again, seriously) But no way am I eating something that is both mole and rat.

Chris: It's the WASTELAND. You do what you have to do to survive.  Shit. I see one of those giant mutant scorpions. I HATE those fuckin' things.  I think this calls for a mini-nuke. (mini-nuke? really.)

Launches mini-nuke. Scorpion pieces rain from the sky.

Chris: YEAHHHH!!!!!

Me: So are you going to eat that?

Chris: No, that's gross.

Me: Whatever happened to "You do what you have to do to SURVIVE?"(talking in my "Chris voice")
I mean, can you eat anything in this game? Like people? Ooooh, can you eat PEOPLE?! Cuz that's what you'd have to do right? I want to see you eat some people!

Chris: (looking like I'm crazy) I don't eat people. Or dogs. Or SCORPIONS! (but you're ALL OVER the mole rat. just sayin'.)

Me: Just not hard core enough I guess.

Chris: (eye roll)

Later...

Me: What is THAT? (it was so gnarly. like some kind of mutated person, octopus, blob thing.) Wait, what is it throwing at you? Is it throwing POO AT YOU!?

Chris: Not exactly.

Me: For real, that thing it totally flinging poo. What kind of game IS THIS?

Chris: (eye roll)

Blog, blog, blog...

So I'm starting this blog. I mean, everyone today has a blog. Like, Paris Hilton's chihuahua probably has it's own blog. I'll bet it's really depressing though. Always offering money for someone to rescue it and telling sad stories about being traded for drugs. But anyhoo, I figure my musings are just as entertaining. For reals ya'll, crazy shit happens to me ALL THE TIME. Besides, I need to write again. So I'm blogging...

Step One: Acquire a super handy notebook in which to write down witty commentary and interesting observations. OMG! I am JUST LIKE Harriet the Spy! Except I can be prosecuted as an adult for trespassing. Seriously though, wasn't Harriet awesome? Loved her. There should be a follow-up for Harriet. Like maybe she actually became a spy, but her cover was blown by that guy that outed Valerie Plame. Moving on....

Step Two: Think of a great blog name. The name is everything people. I mean, besides content or whatever. Hmmmm. Blog Goddess? Nah. Blog Hog? I think not. Are you there blog, it's me Margaret. Too long and my name's not Margaret. It's BLOG! It's BLOG! It's blog the wonderful toy! It's fun for a girl or a boy. Wow, I'm the worst blog name thinker upper ever.... Why blog? Why!?

Hey, that's kinda catchy...