Went home for part of the weekend - we had a birthday party for my sister.  When I say "we" - I mean I made it late and didn't get to participate in everything.  BUT! I made it in time to watch the TiVo'd "Titanic" with everyone.  Seems that "Titanic" was on TNT a few weeks back and someone at home set the TiVo to record it.  And oh - I forgot how much fun it is to make fun of that movie!  Some highlights -

1. While they edited out some of Jack's more colorful dialogue as well as the F-bomb the long-haired submarine guy drops - but if you are British and faced with an "Iceberg, right ahead!" you're allowed to call people bastards.  Really - anything in a British accent is okay because - well, you're British.

2. HOLY CRAP - JACK DRAWS PORN!!! I admit - it was fun jumping in front of the TV in order to shield the young kiddles from the evil pre-Hefner Playboy (admittedly, there was nothing to see since it was edited.  But, did you know that they inserted a deleted scene that shows Rose finding out she's pregnant with Jack's baby?)

3. I never realized how hot Billy Zane was.  Since Rose wants to go wallow in the pigsty with the rats, I'll jump in and take her spot with the rich, insanely attractive, non-Backstreet Boy.  Who has a gun.

4. Yes, it's true.  There is something inherently WRONG with having table manners and being an upstanding citizen.  But running off with some dude you've only known for three days and going to rough parties is completely okay.

5.  I want someone to build "Titanic: The Ride."  You slide down a wooden deck with chairs falling and bodies screaming all the while you try to climb to the back railing only to go down with the ship anyway.

6. That minister at the end has really good arm strength - while everyone else is jumping and sliding off the ship, he's holding on, holding his composure and holding on to the twenty or so people that are clinging to his wrist for Last Rites.

7. Since Rose failed in her suicide attempt on Titanic, Old Rose gets her chance to jump on the scientist's ship - but only succeeds in dropping that stupid necklace down to the ocean.  If I was her, I would have hocked the thing - there's your house on the beach where you can ride horses in the surf all day and spit and be drunk and have a jolly time.

Man, there were other funny things that we joked about - but I can't remember them.  Maybe I'll watch it again and blog while I do it.  It's the first time I've made my sister's friends laugh, which is worth writing about.
I "heart" Strong Bad of HomestarRunner.com fame.  But the newest sbemail put him (and his creators, The Brothers Chaps) permanently in my Top 5.  When I saw that the title of the email was "environment," I thought it was going to be the typical pop-culture sellout to the Mother-Earth Church of Global Warming Cultists in order to appeal to the brainwashed leftists that sadly make up the majority of my age demographic.  But, once again, dear old Strong Bad uses his humor and sarcasm to subtly speak for people who actually can think for themselves but don't have the time to make the noise that self-appointed religious leader Algore and his "Government is God" cronies in the media deluge us with.

The highlights:
Coach Z's hydroelectric "Sog Dog"
"Green" The Cheat
Marzipan and Strong Sad parodying protesters (ha ha, protesters.  They're so funny. *pokes at protesters like slugs*
on that note: Strong Sad's "sustainable" mp3 player/iPhone/iPod touch and Marzipan's "organic" Thema and Louise DVD
Strong Bad's electric bill
Homestar's easiest video game ever played

And the list goes on, but why spoil the fun you'll have watching Strong Bad Email #186?  As always, remember this: the best humor has a kernel of truth to it.

End note: Either the people at the Homestar Runner Wiki forums feel the same way I do about this "We Care About the Environment" BS or they are blissfully oblivious to Strong Bad making fun of them because they are raving favorably about this cartoon.  As for me, I'm going to go with the former because I could use some people on my side.

(I have a new favorite sbemail.)
I swear, I find the funniest stuff on Yahoo! "News" (insert inviso-finger "quotes" here)

This article says that the fumes off of hot buttery popcorn causes lung disease.  I guess when the butter flavor heats, it gives off toxic fumes and that companies should not use it in their popcorn.  In fact, Pop Weaver is already announcing that they're going to quit using it.  I'm not sure what they'll use instead - they can't use real butter because it's A) expensive and B) the health-food police would be on their butts faster than a blood clot.

According to this article and considering the amount of movie theater popcorn I consume (at the movie theater and the stuff I microwave at home), I should have died when I was ten.  But, on the "Crap I Care About" scale, this ranks somewhere below that jackrabbit I plowed over when I was cutting hay on the farm when I was fourteen.

This reminds me of something funny that happened over Labor Day, I was sitting and watching TV with my cousin, W, and her husband, J, when some sort of news-y thing came on.  I can't remember what it was about specifically, but it was one of these "Some popular product causes hair loss in five year olds, so you shouldn't use it" things.  W was kind of freaking out about it and J was making some kind of comment and I couldn't resist.  In the most serious tone I could muster, I said "Did you know that carrots cause car crashes?"

J's reaction: "Are you serious?"

Me (actually succeeding in not laughing and giving my joke away): "Yeah, they said that most of the people who have been in car crashes have eaten carrots at some point in their lives. So you probably shouldn't eat carrots."

The dumb thing is that they actually believed me!  I had to come clean and tell them I was just kidding and that I was just making fun of these reports.  They both laughed and then something wondrous happened: the humor gods granted a blessing in the timing department.  My aunt chose that moment to walk in and offer us a bag of carrot sticks to snack on.  I felt bad for her because we started laughing even harder and she thought we were laughing at her.  I had to explain what happened and she laughed too.

Anyway, the point is that we are all gonna die sometime, it's only a matter of when and how.  And if we took ALL these studies seriously, we'd be bouncing off each other in our plastic bubbles (oh, wait, we can't live in plastic bubbles because plastic gives off fumes that cause cancer.)

(BTW: I can't take full credit for that carrot thing.  I heard it somewhere on the radio and I can't remember for the life of me where.  If anyone knows, tell me and I'll offer proper credit).

ETA: There's an update on this story:  Apparently the one and only case of popcorn fumes causing lung disease comes from a guy who microwaved 2 or 3 bags a day every day for ten years basically huffed the fumes right after he pulled the bag out of the microwave because he liked the smell of freshly popped popcorn and that's why he has this disease.  So, don't huff popcorn fumes every day for ten years and you won't get lung disease from it.
(Somebody please get this guy popcorn-scented cologne).
YouTube had the new Brad Paisley video "Online," which enables me to share the happiness with the world.

Warning: This video contains the following hotness: Brad playing the guitar like Brad plays guitar, Brad with his shirt undone, Brad on the cover of GQ with no shirt (okay, it's a doctored photo, STFU) and Brad in general.

Taylor Swift, Kellie Pickler, Jason Alexander, William Shatner and that Brady Bunch chick all make appearances (and if anyone could tell me who the nerdy guy's mom is, I'd much appreciative. She's hilarious).

Yes, it is a country music video. Get over it; it's funny.
Just don't tell anyone ^_^

If I was in a pissy mood today, none of the following would seem very funny.  All the more reason to keep a good outlook on life.

Leaky reported today about another Harry Potter basher (Harold Bloom much?).  It's to be expected that these sorts of unwashed miscreants would be coming out of the woodwork in the aftermath of the announcement of the "Deathly Hallows" release date.

So, we're "infantile," hmm?  Oh, you're using big words... ack... your Ivy League pompous attitude... ow... your intellectual prowess... *shudder* your PhD in masculine bovine defecation, sphincter emphasis... slowly... losing... brain... cells... your overwhelming desire for me to give a flying leap has... no effect whatsoever.

Sheesh, they do this just so these professors bogged down in the swampy world of academia can get in on the product placement of Harry Potter and maybe some of these children who've read HP will put down their copies of "Alice Through the Looking Glass" and "Just So Stories" long enough to validate the existence of these critics' -- ahem -- "work"

Look, all you literary -- people -- out there: you stay on your side of the playground and the rest of us will keep our lively and carefree side.  You don't let us write fantasy in your literary fiction workshops and we in turn don't submit our academic analysis "Scribbulus" papers to "The New Yorker."  You guys get your daily mocha java and we will take out butterbeers and Bertie Bott's.  Excuse us for having a reason for living other than telling other critics and writers to "F-off", as happened in an e-mail from someone in my poetry class.

Okay, this is good: In my Advanced Poetry class, we e-mail our poems to each other every week so we can read them and have some feedback ready for the next workshop.  Well, some mental giant in the class decided to write an e-mail to a fellow classmate about his poem and let go a few (little Bobby and Janey need to keep their noses in "The Magician's Nephew" for this one) "F-bombs" and told him he didn't know what the hell he was talking about.  The problem is that this retard hit "Reply All" instead of just "Reply", so this e-mail ended up getting sent to the whole class, including the professor (I didn't actually get the e-mail, but another classmate showed it to me on her account and the "To" field had everybody's e-mail in it -- my copy must have hit my wonderful little "Idiot Filter").

The ironic thing is that I myself knew that people in this class don't know what the *blank* they're talking about, but I don't see the need to e-mail them about it.  I guess some people aren't secure enough in their talent to take criticism nicely.

Speaking of potholes in the human race, I also printed off the stories we're supposed to read and critique for next Tuesday's Advanced Fiction workshop.  Four stories: three included scenes of ritualistic animal sex, two had some mention of artistic groping, all four dropped the "F-bomb" and one had a KGB-type game show.  Artistic merit, indeed...

To be fair, the syllabus for this class did explicitly say that there will be no "passing judgment" on work that doesn't meet with our own values and standards, but since I can say with confidence that judgment will be passed on my distinctive pro-LDS-values story that I'm turning in on Tuesday, I feel no guilt in saying that these works of "art" are amoral and crude, not to mention indicative of very little thought and creativity (how creative do you have to be to put an explicit sex scene in literary fiction piece?  It's hardly worthy of the title without one *note intense sarcasm*).

All literary fictionists can do is bitch and moan about how they can't control their desires to bitch, moan, kill each other, rape, pillage, grope and complain that society looks down on them for it and how we should be sensitive to their issues and let them call it art (and daddy never hugged them).  Personally, I know that everyone was born in the era they were supposed to be born in and we all have a mission to fulfill in our time, but it's a little hard to come to terms with that doctrine when you're confronted with this kind of caveman behavior (oh crap, now I have another group mad at me ^_^)

Don't think that I'm just complaining about this, though.  I've been stuck without material for a good post for a few days now.  To have this sort and amount of treasure come my way is a blessing and I'm thoroughly enjoying laughing at all these idiots.  It makes it worth the tongue-chewing hours I spend listening to these weenies whine and think that I'm actually giving a flying hippogriff-turd (when in reality, I'm writing my own cheap, plot-driven novel that will surely fulfill my life more than they could honestly imagine).

I Love My Life.

Love from,
Jenny Wildcat

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December 2011

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