Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Energy Drink Review: Rockstar BOOM!


LOOK WHO STILL HAS A BLOG. It's me. I still have this blog. Now that I'm on my new meds (Zoloft) and I know I don't have to be a mortgage receptionist forever (temp job end date TBA), I am feeling a lot less terrible about life and maybe I will write things again. So I'm here today to give you all a heartfelt update about something deeply personal to me... new energy drink flavors, obvs! Isaac picked up a couple of these new Rockstar BOOM! drinks for me somewheres and I'm trying the "whipped strawberry" flavor first.

FLAVOR: Oh wow. It kind of tastes like a smoothie. And like actual strawberries may have been involved in the manufacture of this product. It is pretty damn tasty. Like no other energy drink. Not chemical-y at all. This is some good shit, y'all. It's a little sweet to drink too fast, but I like it.

EFFECTIVENESS: I am less than completely exhausted today, just regular damn tired, but afternoons are long in this lobby and the alarm at 7:01 a.m.* comes REAL early. I think it is working but I just had to do a bunch of work stuff and it was stupid. FACT: uppers can't make you not hate your job. Definitely a perk-up. Standard for Rockstar caffeination levels. I drank it over the course of about an hour and a half and TBH, I'm already coming back down and getting tired again. I do not blame the Rockstar, however, I'm just a tired, tired lady.

OVERALL: Try it! I recommend it!      (!!)

Trying the orange one tomorrow probs. Will update.


*I do not set alarms for even numbers. That's just... wrong. 

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Energy Drink Review: Tornado

I had the red one. Blue one's next. Brown one never (sorry, I'm racist against coffee).
Guys, I found a Big Lots(!) here in Minnesota and was able to find some random new energy drinks to try. I picked up a "Tornado" drink in a few flavors and will review the original flavor here for you today. I really shouldn't drink energy drinks, just generally OBVS, but because I'm awake until the morning and then sleep all day and then get up for awhile and then take a 3-hour nap, but I will do almost NOTHING if I don't drink some caffeine. My friend Mike tells me this sounds less like caffeine dependency and more like "depression" but WHATEVER WORKS, MY FRIEND. Unnecessary caffeine and lots of cheesy pop music are how I'm doing this thing (occasionally doing household chores and writing once in awhile). The plastic bottle of Tornado claims it contains a "Taste that blows you away!" I do find the way they incorporated the UPC barcode into the tornado picture rather clever. I respect that. Without further ado, here is my live Tornado review.

FLAVOR: Okay, it just tastes like generic "energy drink." The bottle has red on it, so that my be skewing  my tastebuds into thinking it tastes a little more "red" than citrus-y. It's perfectly acceptable in flavor, but definitely has a kind of chemical-y aftertaste. I don't mind that, but I am more energy drink than man at this point, so that's not saying much. Okay, the flavor does not improve with time or warming. It's got a cough-syrupy edge to it almost. I will continue drinking it, obviously. UPDATE: the flavor never improved.

EFFECTIVENESS: In addition to some fun music, this here Tornado is helping motivate me to do some chores I was supposed to do last week, so that's positive. After a little while, my head feels kind of funny, so that's a thing. Maybe I should eat lunch or dinner, whatever meal I'm supposed to have next. I'm going to take my tape measure to the Goodwill for a secret project and then probably get some Wendy's because I'm classy. We'll see how this goes. I got a headache, but I got my secret project purchase and four new (used) puzzles and some dinner made me feel better. The last third or so of the drink is in my fridge for now. I will update if I decide to drink it tonight.

Okay, I finished it eventually after my patented cocktail of sudafed and ibuprofen and a delicious Wendy's salad fixed my headache. It is 2:16 a.m. and I am VERY alert. I even took care of some grownup internet-based business I'd been avoiding. I started a new puzzle and we finished season one of Masters of Sex OMG so good, right? I know I'll never sleep again until it's time for most people to go to work.

OVERALL: Whatever. The caffeine works, the flavor is not so good. I was not "blown away."


UPDATE: The blue one tastes slightly better. Probably not worth looking into unless you find them for 50 cents at Big Lots like I did.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Energy Drink Review: DUB Edition Monster Mad Dog Energy Punch

Oh hey gang, have you missed me? I've been busy trying to take care of my mental health and not fall into a shame spiral because I have no dissertation topic and am not even inspired enough to write a That Old Chesnut post about some word I just looked up the etymology for and at least I sent out a ton of Christmas cards and cheap, crappy gifts, right? Which I probably shouldn't have bought because we are poor and how will we pay our rent before my student loans come in OH WELL, shut up, jerkbrain. Anyway, I had a doctor's appointment this morning with a new doctor so I could get some more crazy* pills and the whole "story of my mental health problems and its treatment" is now over EIGHT YEARS LONG and he was so nice and asked me all sorts of questions about how I was feeling and I cried because that's what I do and I am so glad I don't have to talk to new people about my problems very often except on Monday (THAT'S CHRISTMAS EVE) which was like the only time I could get in to see a new therapist and I will do it all over again, but longer and without a fun prescription at the end. So enough about my feelings guys, because I was up early and also needed to get change for the bus, so I stopped at the store and bought a new energy drink and now I will drink it on the internet for you.
Does it look like a custom car? Nope? Oh, well, whatever.
I believe I've had some sort of DUB Edition Monster before, but this is a new energy punch "inspired by the streets." I don't even know what that means. Apparently DUB is a custom car magazine and DUB and Monster do like some car show tour together that I don't even care about. Anyway, Mad Dog is the new drink.** Let's try this shit.

FLAVOR: The can has got purple on it, so I was wondering if that would hold true for the flavor. It's got kind of a berry flavor, so not NOT purple. It's pretty tasty. I do generally like a punch or juice energy drink, and they are a lot more palatable for energy drink novices.

EFFECTIVENESS: It is definitely helping, but at about 2/3 of the way through the can, I'm just starting to feel regular amounts of alertness. I've got a lot of tired to counteract here, people. Okay, I drank it all. It was pretty good, but not crazy with the energizing. I'm definitely going to need more caffeine this afternoon.

RECOMMENDED or whatever.


*I know many people consider "crazy" a derogatory term, especially for legitimate mental illness, but I'm going to keep using it for me because I want to. So there.

**Fact: my research just now taught me that "Mad Dog" is but a nickname for classic bottom-shelf booze MD 20/20. MD stands for "Mogen David." WHAT?!

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Spreading some sad and some links

I have no inspiration, people. I am full of despair and guilt because I feel like all the crappy things in my life are my fault (maybe they are?) and feel guilty about feeling despair about all the crappy things since I don't have, like, the Ebola virus or need an abortion in Ireland or anything. Good thing I've got an appointment with a therapist soon. Maybe I can get some new meds too, since my Prozac prescription is nearly up. Ugh. BUT ANYWAY, you guys don't come here to hear me whine about being depressed and poor and creatively and academically blocked--or DO YOU? Anyway, here's a bunch of links from the last couple of weeks to stuff I thought was cool while I didn't have access to Facebook to share it, so here you go (these links are way less sad than I am):

This is an adorable story about a family who turned a cop puppet into a family member. I want Officer Rodriguez to remind me about safety and responsibility (instead of my landlord yelling at me over the phone because I forgot to tell her I couldn't figure out how the water to the outside faucet turned off and now it is cold and we will all die because the pipes have already exploded probably and why am I so bad at communication and being responsible and did I even BOTHER to help shovel the snow and do I even speak to my husband about who is doing what tasks because we are going to have to pay for all that water damage and GOOD MORNING). I want Officer Rodriguez to come hug me now. (Mommyish, yes I read mommy blogs sometimes, get over it people)

If you're going to get rabies, you should probably do it in Denmark.(The Billfold)

I am not the only one who has named a garden gnome "Chomsky." (Sociological Images)

Do you wish I would stop whingeing and get back to investigating etymological roots for you? Well, HERE. Ruth Walker will tell you all about the historical origins of the word "blackmail." You're welcome. (The Christian Science Monitor)

Want to read about the old-timey occupation of Witch Pricker? And a lady who pretended to be a man to get said job and was really good at it and got lots of people killed but then got caught being a not-man and was also sent to a terrible fate? Look no further than your local (Scottish) BBC News outlet!

Ever want to explore your inner Dr. Hodgins (AKA HodgePodge, and no one should ever call him anything else), but don't actually want to look at or touch any bugs? Guess what! You can look at old timey prints of old timey woodcuts and look for literal WORMHOLES and figure out some bug evolution stuff or whatever. Books are cool! Books rock! (Discover Magazine)

I don't really watch Star Trek (of any incarnation), but this Troy and Abed (of Community) and Geordi and Data (of TNG) mash-up-type Tumblr is ridiculous and so, so nerdy: Troy and Abed in Engineering. This is why the Lord Our God The Sexy Gay Jesus created the internet for us. Also, I am secretly wearing my "Sexy Gay Jesus for McCain" shirt under my sweater at work today, and it is warming my heart ever so slightly.

Saturday, August 04, 2012

At least I'm still not a Plugger

Nobody panic! I am okay. I have not brought about sweet, sweet oblivion with a combination of Gordon's vodka and Benedryl--though I have to say if were going to kill myself (which I never would) I would TOTALLY go overdose. None of this hanging or wrist slashing (I can't even handle giving blood, how would I do that?) or shooting oneself in the head. I'd prefer to just go to sleep, perhaps vomiting a lot beforehand, but how different is that than an unfortunate drinking incident? Anyway, the suicide talk is at least 98% that morbid humor thing I'm into. But I've gotten kind words from a few worried/sympathetic friends which I totes appreciate. I've been watching a lot of Olympics and working on a majestic 2000-piece leopard puzzle from the Salvation Army the past week or so, which gives my life meaning because apparently I am secretly an old lady.

But despite continued unemployment and daily rejections from more jobs I've applied for and am probably way over-educated for but still can't even get an interview for, at least I'm not a Plugger! This is an important mantra. While culling through the last month or so of Plugger panels, I was reminded of god's greatest invention*: The Random Plugger Generator. Go there and press refresh. Do it again. And again! And now, some of my own commentary:

I believe the preferred nomenclature is "Inuit" or "Alaskan native," asshole. Also, that ice cream bar should probably be made of whale blubber or something to be authentic. DETAILS!

First of all, what animal is this lady plugger supposed to be? Dog? Sheep? Camel? Also, with a hairstyle like that, the fact that she is still using personal grooming supplies from the mid-'90s is perhaps the least of her problems.

DRUGS. DUH.

This is horrifying.

Pluggers love gendered divisions of labor so hard.

You also might be a hipster, but clearly the concept of irony is WAY past a Plugger's level of cultural comprehension.

Insert disgusting Plugger stripper joke here. YOU'RE WELCOME, SIR OR MADAM.
IN THE COMMENTS: Tell me how YOU'D kill yourself if you suddenly realized you're a Plugger!


*No, not booze. The Sexy Gay Jesus clearly invented booze.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Sad, sad skip this post because whining

Oh guys, it's kinda hard to know what to say on this blog when all I want to say is "I'm so depressed, guys!" No one wants to hear that shit. It's not interesting. I'm already on what I consider my high(er/est) dosage of Prozac, and since I'm all unemployed and trying to embark on a new phase of my life, it's kind of understandable that I might have 93750938 emotional breakdowns every day and have to force myself to even go outside. But that doesn't mean that this over-achieving unique snowflake doesn't still feel bad about it!

Look at my non-existent dissertation: I've had -2 meetings about it, and nothing is happening because I won't read my shit from the library or email other faculty members and also work is hard and also is this really what I want to devote the next few years to?

Look at my non-existent writing/creative career: I feel pretty good about producing one preview video, but creativity is even harder than schoolwork often and also I am sad.

So what I am saying is that in all honesty, Sr. Depressington (not to be racist) followed me to Minnesota, and people saying they were "impressed by [my] credentials" really doesn't help me feel better about being so, so unemployed. Good job on getting two jobs, husband. I should probably just sleep forever or something. God, I hate everything.

Monday, May 07, 2012

Oh hey, I finished that thing

That thing being course work for my PhD. While there are many, many things yet to be done (exams, proposal, dissertation, defense, etc.), this is a glorious milestone. I am kind of not sure how I managed to get through this last school year without failing everything and/or having a complete meltdown while teaching because nobody did the reading AGAIN. But you guys, I don't have to take classes anymore and I don't have to be a teacher anymore. This is exciting! And I don't know if you know this, but I'm planning to follow my dreams. My dreams involve being able to display both a doctorate of philosophy and an Emmy Award for my fabulous television comedy writing on a mantle that will apparently be devoted solely to my achievements. Isaac can put a small trophy up there too, I guess.

I'm getting out of academia, friends. The job market is TERRIBLE* and I have found through the experience of teaching that I do not particularly enjoy the experience of teaching. So why would I work my ass off for a shitty, underpaid and insecure position doing something I don't really like anyway? That is why I'm getting out. I still want the doctoral bragging rights, to be sure, and since I plan to write, writing a dissertation would basically be, like, a good first book project, amirite? And since my dissertation is sure to be something American culturey/history-y/morbid-y, I think that will point me on a good path to becoming the next Sarah Vowell. This is obviously when I'm not busy producing hilarious and awesome videos and working on becoming the next Amy Poehler. Though I should say that despite lacking any drag queen qualifications, I would make an exception to the academia rule by accepting an adjunct position at RuPaul's Drag U.

It would be like this, like, all the time.
So team Laurac (Lauren & Isaac) is preparing for a move (back) to ye olde Twin Cities in Minnesota. We are seeking out real-people jobs and a home where we can store all of our books and DVDs and a stuffed woolly mammoth and two full-size couches for optimal cuddling and lounging purposes. We have dreams that one of us will get a job with health insurance (!) and that we can start paying down some of the credit card debt accrued during grad school. I plan to stay a full-time student technically so we don't have to start paying off all my loans (somehow Isaac managed to not accrue ANY in 10 years of schooling?) yet, and we hope to be busy and not as poor as now and filled with hope for our futures instead of despair for the present. RuPaul believes in me, and I believe in you and your ability to make a plan for your life to be less terrible just like I have.

*Also, duh. Remember this? It is SHOCKING to the Chronicle that "smart" people might be poor sometimes!

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

An uninvited guest

Oh hey look! My BFF Sr. Depressington is in town!

Sr. Depressington makes life complicated.
I knoooow, it is so uninteresting to read about how depressed I am, six or seven loyal readers and random curious internet citizens who accidentally came here because Captain Awkward (kindly) keeps linking to that one post by the Sexy Gay Jesus.* I check my analytics page people, I know who you are! Or at least which cities you live in and/or what you googled to find me. But anyway, here's some things that tend to make me at least momentarily less depressed and/or anxious, so you should be friends with them too:

-This is the best thing on the internet. It's drunk and bitchy and silly. It's like me, but law student-y. (#whatshouldwecallme)

-Watch this show. Now. All of it. Laugh, cry, repeat. Speed through the episodes because you want to see what happens and then mourn when it is all over. Then find out which movies Netflix has that feature Yoo Gong (far too few). (Coffee Prince)

-Order this motherfucking book of awesome history/literature comics nerdery. I added it (among other things) to fill out an Amazon order for free shipping that I SWEAR started as a necessary academic purchase. If you are not already subscribing to Kate Beaton's comic blog, you are basically the worst at life. (Hark! A Vagrant)




*The SGJ is just about recovered from His recent re-birthday celebration, so I imagine if you need some advice, he'd be up for answering your important life questions or whatever. Email me. Totally.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Pardon Me While I Deal with My Existential Crisis

Listen people who still sometimes check this blog (sister, old roommate, friend from high school), I know I've been neglecting you. I know you need my magical comedic stylings to help you get through your days sitting in a cubicle or teaching the world about history or helping kids learn how to talk or whatever it is you do, but I am having a CRISIS. And I desperately want to finish my Richard Nixon Wikipedia research so I can bring you one of my famous presidential posts, but right now I hate everything. I hate school. I hate academia. I hate teaching. I hate this town. I hate not being able to leave it or go anywhere because we are poor and have no car. I hate that there are so many douchebags in this town/world. I hate that trying to expand my horizons just brings me into greater contact with douchebags. I hate TV even though I love TV. I hate all my hobbies (I have like, 2 besides TV, OKAY?). I hate hot weather. I hate my allergies. I hate my lack of future job prospects. I hate that I can't even drop out of school because I can't afford to lose my assistantship and Isaac and I have become accustomed to our fancy life in this house with cable and air conditioning and multiple rooms and everything. 

So anyway, I clearly need to go get my Prozac dose cranked back up another notch, but in the meantime I'm rewatching all of these to make myself forget my general life malaise and laugh for a couple of minutes at a time:



If one of my students gave this presentation, said student would get an A. My students will never be this hilariously clever, however. I haven't known them long enough to hate them yet, at least.*


*Disclaimer for non-friend audience: I totally don't hate my students! I'm a good teacher! And professional! I wore grownup clothes twice already this week! I really need this job right now!

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Depression Update

Hey gang,

This post isn't just about the economy (ha! See what I did there?), it's about my mental state. Remember when I started this blog like three years ago and I used to talk all the time about my depression? Yeah, I've been mostly less depressed since then. I get anxious some, but I have recently lowered my Prozac dosage. This is all to say that it's still, like, a thing or whatever. I think this summer will be a drug-free experiment. Only anti-depressant-free, people! Don't worry, I'll still make plenty of bad choices. Anyway, instead of posting a black-and-white picture of myself wearing sweats and holding my head in my hands (like every anti-depressant commercial ever), I'm using my words to tell you about my emotional state: largely stable, unnecessarily anxious at times, not usually really sad.

But enough about me! I want to hear from you guys. Let's take a poll: What's depressing you most lately?

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Dear America: What I'm thinking about

The month of February was terrible. From problem students to the longest (feeling) month of winter, to regular academic pressures, to recently lowered dosages of Prozac, revolutions abroad, car trouble, to congressional attacks on female bodily integrity, I have to say that I'm feeling very positively about the move into March. Also, it was sunny today and spring break is next week and I got drunk tonight and the world is looking a little happier. Here are some random thoughts/links that basically all come from Jezebel:

Bristol Palin is releasing a memoir. I am smarter and more interesting than Bristol Palin. Maybe if I write a memoir and get it published, we can buy a car that was built sometime after I left elementary school!

I'm sorry, but did one of my students get elected to the Ohio legislature?

I like that Lady Gaga says she didn't lose her virginity "until" she was seventeen and that it was bad. I thought she was a weirdo. Sex before college? How mainstream. And it wasn't good? Welcome to the club. At least that part I can relate to.

So, '50s clothes are hard to fit into. I discovered this while searching for a 1950s party dress for a wedding dress online. Most of the still-existing dresses were tiny. Additionally, I have small boobs, which makes crazy pointy boob-designed garments difficult to fit. The shoulders and lower ribcage of the dress I ultimately found fit perfectly, and the full skirt did exactly what I wanted it to for my lower body; however, my mom and a friend of hers had to take in the obnoxious princess seams since even my padded strapless bra couldn't do much by '50s cone-bra standards. This has been a true story. Amen.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

A post about stuff other people have been posting about

For awhile, Ta-Nehisi Coates over at The Atlantic has been singing the praises of our own Ulysses S. Grant's memoirs of the Civil War. Apparently he's kind of bitchy, and that sounds awesome. You know I've covered Grant myself here (he's also the one next to Lincoln on the banner above), but ever since I read Doris Kearns Goodwin's awesome Team of Rivals a few months ago, I've gained a greater appreciation for the old drunkard.* Especially since that book really traced out what an incompetent douchebag George McClellan was. Anyway, Coates thinks Grant is basically a real-life superhero and wants Kevin Costner from the '90s to play him in an awesome movie. I support this. Also, 20 extra points for Marvin Gaye reference. The point of all this is that history is cool and now I'm getting Isaac to check out Grant's 500+ page memoirs for me to read. For fun. Because I'm a nerd. But apparently I'm not really a student here right now because I graduated and I don't technically enroll in the PhD program until later this summer. Or something. Whatever. Isaac can do my library bidding since he's on campus anyway and I am in a cubicle in Toledo.

On an unrelated note, have you guys heard this shit about the little girl in Seattle whose white teacher couldn't handle the "smell" of her hair product or something and kicked her out of class? Yeah. That happened. Over at Racialicious, Andrea Plaid takes on the various gendered and racialized stereotypes brought out by this classic example of "the Delicate White Woman Frightened by the Negress’ Physical Being" (Plaid). Because SRSLY: I'm sensitive to a lot of perfumes, etc., but I don't ask people to LEAVE my presence. Especially ironic in this case was that the girl was the only non-white student in an advanced placement class at a school named for Thurgood Marshall. Seriously. That part happened, too.

But in case that doesn't make you depressed enough about the world, Jill at I Blame the Patriarchy attacks the disgusting coverage surrounding a 13 year-old girl whose self-induced abortion with a PENCIL with the help of her 30 year-old "boyfriend" are causing people to call her a stupid slut. Now, I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to go ahead and say seventh graders can't consent to fucking 30 year-olds. So this grown-up man has been dating raping her for a year, gets her pregnant, and she (or HE) so desperately doesn't want this baby that she tries to induce a miscarriage with a fucking pencil and basically bleeds for three days. That sounds to me like an action taken by a terrified victim. One who happens to still be a CHILD. But apparently some people think she should be charged with a crime. Because they are assholes and don't understand what rape or abuse are and don't understand why she might not have had access to a proper medical abortion. Have I mentioned that I hate the world?

If that makes you too sad, just think about how awesome Ulysses S. Grant is. The Civil War's not, like, depressing or anything, right?


*I do have some issues with Goodwin's depiction of Lincoln's mental health in this book, however. She claims that because he was mostly functional he was merely "melancholy" of temperament and not actually "depressed." I haven't done the archival research she has, clearly, but he sounds like a classic depressive to me. We don't all just lay in bed all day and cry, sometimes we accomplish things and manage to also have a sense of humor at the same time. Just sayin', Doris Kearns Goodwin, it's okay to admit he was depressed. It's not actually that big a deal.

Monday, September 21, 2009

The saddest thing I've seen today

Granted, I haven't left the house today. Instead I woke up, outlined a response paper, drank a gigantic Monster Heavy Metal* and wrote. Now I am on the internet. And sometimes I am like, "I should blog. But I am lazy. Hey, let's go see how depressed and/or outraged Pluggers can make me!" So yeah. PLUGGERS ARE YOUR GRANDMA: A single tear runs down my cheek. I'm not buying that shit, though. I'm still trying to get my food stamps back. Your extra nonsensical forms will not hold me back, government entitlement programs! I have half a master's degree! *Short review: supposedly "green apple," mostly kind of gross, but I wrote a nine page paper in about four hours, and that's pretty speedy for me. Though who knows when I'll get to sleep tonight. Also, 32 ounces is RIDICULOUS, but once it was open, I felt obligated to finish it. They should borrow from their own resealable "import" design that they stole from European beverage manufacturers.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Herbert Hoover: Not Actually a Fake Name

Herbert Hoover was one of the few one-term U.S. presidents in the twentieth century. Little Herbie was born in Iowa in 1874, the first U.S. president to be born west of the Mississippi. His parents were Quakers, his dad a blacksmith. By the time he was nine, both his parents were dead. SAD LONELY ORPHAN BOY HERBERTICUS. He lived with a grandmother, some uncles, attended what is now George Fox University as a teenager or something, but eventually was part of Stanford University's very first class of students in 1891. He managed the baseball and football teams, because apparently he couldn't actually play any sports himself, and graduated with a degree in geology in 1895. His soon-to-be-wife Lou Henry got the same degree. She never really used it, but she had it, dammit. Herbie became a mining engineer, went to Australia and China, mining gold, zinc, whatevs. He wrote geology textbooks and made money. While in China, Herbert and Lou picked up some Mandarin, and according to the 'Pedia, used it in the White House later when they didn't want those nosy aides to hear what they were talking about. Herb & Lou had to sons, Herbert, Jr. and Allan. During the first world war, Hoover helped with food distribution in Europe. He was based in London and helped those people not starve as much. In 1917, Wilson recruited Hoover to be the head of the U.S. Food Administration so Americans could have food too when they joined the war. He helped with food relief in Europe after the war too. The Hoover Institution at Stanford was originally set up with Hoover's WWI records and is now, like, awesomely conservative. In 1920, Hoover rejected the Democrats' overtures and decided to run for his first public office, the President of the United States (no big) as a Republican. He lost his adopted home state of California, but later became Secretary of Commerce under Hardinghead. As the secretary of a relatively newly-formed bureaucracy, Hoover was, like, super-popular. He expanded its role, usurping other departments just 'cause he could. He partnered with business interests, and promoted progressive ideals of efficiency in all his efforts. He was also pumped about promoting Hollywood films abroad (even before they had talking!), and held radio and traffic conferences to help promote the latest technologies and begin to build up federal oversight of them. He became pals with Harding and was with him as he died (suspicious?).
Young geologist Hoover in Australllllia.
He continued his cabinet position under lame-face Calvin Coolidge, gaining huge notoriety. Coolidge sarcastically referred to him as "Wonder Boy." When Cal talked, that is. In 1927, there was a big Mississippi flood and it was bad. Cal sent Herbie down to take care of emergency efforts, which is always good, but didn't really help black people so much. Good thing that never happens anymore, amirite? Luckily he worked it out so nobody would hear about that when he was running for prez in 1928. He ran against PAPIST Al Smith who LOVED BOOZE. The economy was booming, so people voted for pro-business Hooverdoover. Apparently Hoover had his own sport to keep in shape at the White House (HOT). He was into "volunteerism" efforts (AKA businesses should just not be dickfaces out of the goodness of their hearts). Pretty much there was this thing called the GREAT DEPRESSION, and all of Hoover's efforts were essentially TOO LITTLE TOO LATE to fix the crisis. Also, there was a Bonus Army of WWI vets who wanted their fucking money, but Hoover was like, "I will send General MacArthur to CUT YOU, bitchez." Which didn't really increase his popularity.
HERBIE'S FAKE SPORT.
Hoover reluctantly ran for reelection in 1932, but was not real successful. At his campaign stops, he was heckled, and standersby threw eggs and fruit at his train and motorcade. HAHA. After he was decisively defeated by Franklin Somethingorather, Herb and Lou went on road trips, and the former prez wrote a fishing book. He though maybe he'd be nominated by the Republicans in 1936 and 1940, but they totes didn't want him. He advocated for neutrality before the U.S. joined up in WWII and called for an American Fortress. FUCK YOU, EUROPE. But then in post-war Germany, he helped feed people again. Hoover loved food. Then he got all anti-Communist and became friends with Truman. He wrote a biography about Wilson, had a dam named after him, and died in 1964. He had, like, the longest retirement ever. Good job being awesome in your pre- and post-presidencies, Herbert Hooveface!

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Plugger Drug Fiends: Now Available in Color

Remember Pluggers, the worst daily comic in the world? I was going back through the recent archives (because raising my blood pressure through reading crappy, infuriating cartoons is almost as good as exercising, right?), and found that not only are the daily comics now in color on the interwebs, but that El Jefe Plugger Numero Uno Gary Brookins is still accepting entries for "most blatant prescription drug abuse advocacy panel": Yeah, SURE, "anti-gas." You know this "vacation" is just a cover for an illicit trip to Cuba to load up on cheap prescription drugs and probably sex tourism. The Sexy Gay Jesus knows (though prefers not to think about) that the abomination that is the marriage of Mr. Dog and Mrs. Chicken Lady can't be all that sexually fulfilling. One of them is a bird! One of them is a mammal! Poor Mrs. Chicken Lady must look at her sad, pathetic unfertilized eggs dropping onto the bathroom rug each morning and remember how Grandma Chicken Lady warned her about running off with Spot or Rufus or whatever stupid name that corpulent hairy beast was going by back then. No wonder she's a drug addict. Previous installments of "Pluggers Are Just Like Rush Limbaugh: Prescription Drug Edition" to be found here, here, here, here, here, and here. Some might see this obsession of mine and say I have a problem, but I say, "At least I'm not a Plugger." And you can take that to the bank that will probably fail and lose all your money in the next couple months. That's why Pluggers keep all their money under the mattress.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Elizabeth Berkley is an amazing actress and some links

The combination of Oscar-worthy performances by Caruso and Saved by the Bell alum Elizabeth Berkley is pretty much rocking my Monday night here on CSI: Miami. Were you aware that Jessie Spano is now giving advice to young girls on an incredibly well-designed website? Horatio Caine just solved a case by linking a piece of crab shell to a hit-and-run driver! God I love this show. PRODUCT PLACEMENT! COMMERCIAL FOR BI-POLAR MEDS DURING AN EPISODE WHERE JESSIE SPANO GOES OFF HERS. OMG. -And speaking of the psychotropic magic pills, some Elle writer found anti-depressants caused her to be unsympathetic to other depressed types. I'm not going to lie, I've occasionally been of the mind of "Meds helped me, quit complaining and get yourself some." Whatevs. I've still got friends. And a few of them are on happy pills too. Celexa Made Me "Smug". (Jezebel) -My love for Rachel Maddow has been well-established. Well, now she's finally got her own show which I tragically do not have the cable to watch. Anyway, people are talking about her general awesome awesomeness, and I just like to continue to promote her. Apparently, she's cool as shit in real life. SHOCK! Herogram: Rachel Maddow, Normal Person. (Gawker)

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Sexy Naked Workout Videos, Jesus Wants to Be Your Boyfriend, and My Neighbor Is a Bad Singer

-So, a couple of weeks ago Thrift Store Champion and I were hanging out with some friends at their house, when suddenly they subjected treated us to some of this magic. Yes, my friends: The Da Vinci Body Series for Men. It's hard-bodied dudes working out. All naked-like. This video tape was from the mid-nineties, had terribly dubbed-over exercise instructions, and it was so, so hard to look away. It may have been partly due to imbibed substances, but we watched that entire video (it's like an hour long), and were incredibly thrilled to find out that it is part of a series. Highlight: when Jason said of the one Asian guy, "He's so diverse!" -Also from the early-to-mid-nineties: the stock photos on this fabulous Jesus website. "Where is that one special relationship?" I saw a commercial on the teevee for this website, and I had to check it out: 1-888-Need-Him. And I quote:

We've all felt these things. In such moments, you know there's something missing, something wrong in your world. You know there's a relationship you don't have that you're supposed to have. At times you may have felt you have found it, perhaps in a love relationship, but that feeling never seems to last.

Every relationship leaves you with this hole in your heart. Something isn't right, but we just can't find it or fix it. But it doesn't ever have to be that way for you again. There is an answer to your search.

I know! It's called Prozac! Or quit dating people who suck! Whatevs. Anyway, the site features different pictures if you decide you want to tell a lady about Jesus. "Alone? A perfect friend is waiting to meet YOU." God, it had better be The Sexy Gay Jesus, or I want my money back! Unfortunately, I don't have the outdated technology required to "Watch It!" or "Hear It!" because it looks like there are some good talks like "Sleeping Around" or "Titanic,"* presented by people like this lady. Also, I found a link to a fun new blog by a Christian lady named Peggie whose main webpage features some midi hymns. This week on her blog she ponders what a Christian should do on Halloween, what with how it "has turned into dark occultic activities opposite from the Light-giving God we serve." I like the evangelical option: candy + religious tracts = happy trick-or-treaters all around! Unless they're, like, Muslim or something. Like Barack Obama.

-Have I mentioned that my next-door neighbor sings Jesus music often in the morning? For a few weeks, it was like clockwork right before 10:00 a.m. every day: off-key but inspirational. But then ONE MORNING I heard her singing along to something not-so-Christian on the radio (that is a totally edited--though still quite sleazy--video, and I actually kind of liked the song's premise when I thought it was a woman singing about receiving cunnilingus, but now I've realized my neighbor's bad vocals covered up the fact that it's just some shitty guy band).

*How up-to-the-minute!

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Presidential Debate #2 AKA watch Lauren's coherence dissipate over the course of the evening

Exciting live-blogging! I will be drinking! And typing! And making all sorts of enlightened comments about modern American democracy! With egregious sins against the English Punctuation Gods!!(!) George Stephanapolous wins the "adorable newscaster" award! Charlie is here at BGSU, hooray! Brokaw has so much fucking gravitas. Apparently the world has collapsed since 12 days ago. How did I miss that? Barack just told us we are in the Second Great Depression, pretty much. Way less cooler than that Second Holocaust McCain and Palin keep talking about. McMaverick should read Ezra's post on Keynesian economics, what with it being all Depress-y right now. This is way less hilarious than anything involving Sarah Palin. John McCain insulted Tom Brokaw. John McCain is going to newscaster hell. Black undecided voter! Take a drink! He is very nicely dressed. MAIN STREET. Drink! Suspension of campaign! Just accused Barack of having cronies (I think he means "homies"). Thrift Store Champion doesn't think McCain has knees. There is something quite weird about the way he walks. Totally "tottering" like a small child. Making out is way more interesting than this debate. I think John McCain walking like he does toward the questioners would give me nightmares. Drink to Lieberman! Also, oblique "maverick" reference. He's getting closer to the audience members! Scary! I think he got stuck on his "energy independence" setting. That is the silver bullet for the economy, apparently. John McCain looks like a troll! He moves like a puppet from The Dark Crystal. Lieberman! Terrorism non sequitur. I BRIEFLY ACCIDENTALLY NAVIGATED AWAY FROM CLEVER COMMENTS AND LOST SOME OF THEM: Oops! Perhaps it was the advent of this glass of Maker's Mark on the rocks. McCain is telling us Obama's secret: his tax increases will increase taxes. He wants to double tax credits for kids. Better start having more babies, middle class! Brokaw won't let Obama respond. Internet question instead! Straight talk express lost a wheel!! Obama is so clever. He wants small businesses to have health insurance. What is that about? Oh my god, John McCain did a creepy old man laugh. Apparently reforming Social Security is an easy fix. Also, Barack Obama is not a MAVERICK. Obama loves stealing money from Americans. "Our best days are ahead of us!" CLIMATE CHANGE QUESTION. Lieberman! Nuclear power. Obama says, "Make it be safe blahblahblah" but John McCain was TOTES on navy ships with a nuclear reactor and he never got killed in a meltdown! John McCain is writing with a sharpie. His notes are PERMANENT. McCain is talking about "goodies" in bills. John McCain hates goodies. Also, he called Barack "that one." Health care as a commodity. God, I wish I were watching this debate with Karl Marx. McCain doesn't think Obama should mention the government. Let's give Americans choice, except the uterus-Americans. Health care: privilege, right, cor responsibility? McCain: responsibility. God, he hates the government mandating shit. Obama: right. Hello, right answer! I fucking hate health insurance. My student coverage is even worse. Some wimpy "peacemaker" just asked a question of "Sr. Sen. Warmonger McCain." Gave Obama a "death stare" about being inexperienced. "There are a lot of things I don't understand. I don't understand how we ended up invading a country that had nothing to do with 9/11." Dear Barack Obama, Why do you make sense? Love, America. OBAMA DOCTRINE?? We should maybe not let genocide happen so much. Could we please stop alienating our allies so much? "That requires a cool hand at the tiller." John McCain DOES NOT EQUAL a cool hand. Oh, he stood up to his hero Ronald Reagan. Good for you, McMav. Military servicepersons are totes his top priority. Holocaust DRINK. Pakistannnn. John McCain wants to fuck Teddy Roosevelt. Apparently we shouldn't warn countries that we might attack them, we should just do it. Let's all watch Charlie Wilson's War and compare the historical record to the bullshit McCain is saying. Brokaw is just the "hired help." Love. Him. Oh my god, I think John McCain is going to physically attack Obama. McCain will GET OSAMA BIN LADEN, but he will not "telegraph his punches." John McCain is too old to know about the telephone! McCain: "We're not going to have another cold war... with Russia." Huzzah! Cold War with Iran '09! Thrift Store Champion said of "naked aggression": "Is it wrong that that's kind of hot?" YES. YES IT IS WRONG, YOU FREAK. No one should ever have bright red carpet. Que ugly. John McCain just claimed he could single-handedly "ignite" the new Cold War. I'm drinking to the veteran with an Israel question. Jinx with John McCain with "Thank you for your service." SECOND HOLOCAUST. Barack Obama says pretty things about the American dream. Michelle Obama is fucking hot. John McCain admits that he cannot tell the future. Advice to McCain: don't talk about Americans not being able to find things on maps, mmkay? Geography not exactly your forte. Ahh Cindy McCain is scary!! Bright blue craziness. Does she have a wig? She and Heidi Montag are remarkably, frighteningly similar.

Friday, August 01, 2008

Last day of work, personal ramblings, and linkage

Fact: The Pretentious Ex-Boyfriend, the Perpetual Roommate, and I beat up an old printer of mine with a baseball bat that the PR had "borrowed" from the athletic department in front of the middle school across the street from our apartment one night. It was actually really hard to break pieces off of it, but we made up for it by playing "Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta" on some tiny speakers. And then we properly disposed of the debris.


Hey kids,

So... this is my last day of work. At my grownup desk job where I occasionally do data entry but mostly just fuck around on the internet while being paid too much money. The last several months of blogging have been a godsend. Seriously. And maybe it has something to do with the fact that I went back on antidepressants right around the same time I got serious about the blog, but I'm just going to go ahead and give the interwebs some credit for keeping me from hating my job too much and letting it completely suck my soul away. But anyhow, I'm going "back to school," as they say. Which makes me feel kind of old. To be able to say that. But I am. Things are going to be a little crazy for the next month, so I highly doubt I'll be able to top July's 50 posts. Anyway, this weekend I'm going on a random trip to Chicago to visit A Certain Someone Who Has Requested to Never Be Mentioned on This Blog (CSWHRNBMTB) and the Perpetual Roommate. I'll be back late Monday probably, so don't cry if there are no posts. Then I will have a few days to get my shit together for the SCANDINAVIAN TOUR I'm taking with the Perpetual Roommate, after which I have to pack and move to Ohio. And start grad school. And pretend to know what I'm doing.

So here's some links to get you through the weekend. Don't miss me too much while I am off galivanting in my newly-unemployed state!

-Amanda posits the idea that if we're going to interpret the Bible and take Christian doctrine literally, it really looks like god is kind of an asshole. He's playing games, trying to keep the upper hand, making sure he's got control of the situation. Luckily The Sexy Gay Jesus is aware of his male privilege and doesn't abuse it. But then again, I'm not trying to date SGJesus, what with him being gay and all. And Jesus. God, who doesn't return your phone calls. (Pandagon)

-Rachel Sklar over at HuffPo's Eat the Press compiled a sweet set of clips showing how Jon Stewart and the Daily Show crew have been all over sleazy Ted Stevens and his craziness and corruption for ages. It's pretty great. Jon Stewart Knew Ted Stevens Was Up to No Good. (Huffington Post)

-Paul Campos has great take on the whole "OMG the kidz is too fat!" moral panic. Not only is it a manufactured "problem," but as always, the pharmaceutical industry is both the instigator and the benefactor. Check it out. The Real Drug War. (Lawyers, Guns and Money)

-Kieran Healy discusses how we deal with douchebags in public places. Like ones who cut in line and expect people's inclination to avoid conflict to outweigh their sense of fairness. I myself tend to go for the resentful passive-aggressive approach to assholes who stand in front of me at concerts when my friends and I were clearly here first, like, since before the opening band, and WHY IS YOUR BOYFRIEND SO GODDAMN TALL?! No I will not take a picture of you!* Anyway, it's interesting how angry those kinds of situations can get you; angrier than all of the great injustices in the world. Because it's immediate. It's blatant. And whatever it is, it's totally not worth them being a dick about it. Norm Enforcement Is Hard, But People Do It Anyway. (Crooked Timber)

-Over at Jezebel, SadieStein really gets to the heart of the "Pretty Girl" phenomenon. As in, some girls are "Pretty Girls," and some girls (who very well may be totally hot themselves) are "Smart Girls" and/or "Funny Girls." Some of us were a little awkward in junior high and spent our time trying to write the most morbid stories or wear the most random item of clothing taken from our parents' old '70s stash in the basement. But you know what, I had a lot of fun. And though I now recognize my inherent hotness, I'm glad I've got other shit going for me. I like to think about how I am an awesome internet blogger and about to be paid to be a graduate student and how the hottest/most popular girl in our seventh grade class married some guy from our hometown a couple of years ago, and they both work at her dad's restaurant chain. Not that I'm gloating. SMALL BUT RELATED TANGENT: I used to date someone who would constantly tell me how hot I was. That's nice, sure. But I definitely felt pressure to maintain it, you know? I'm pretty lazy, so I only took it so far, but if let yourself be valued for attractiveness like that, you start to invest yourself in it too much. And god knows I don't need to think about my appearance any more than I already do, which is too much. Anyway, I think Sadie's hit the nail on the head with her analysis: Pretty Is As Pretty Does: The Middle School Moment. (Jezebel)

My internet presence will be spotty for a bit, but I'll try and dig in when I get the chance. Happy August, everybody! And happy Lauren's Last Day of Work!



*False. I will. I will take a picture of you and your drunk friends, but I'll still be seething over your drunk, view-impairing ass while I do it.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Calvin Coolidge: Coolly avoiding blame for the Great Depression

Thanks for letting Native Americans be U.S. citizens, Cal! And no need to regulate the economy, just keeeeeep lowering taxes.

Calvin Coolidge was born John Calvin Coolidge, Jr., but I assume he went by Calvin to avoid being confused with his dad. This would make sense except for that the future President Coolidge later named his own sons John (not junior) and Calvin, Jr. WTF? Calvin Coolidge was apparently never known to be a very creative man. He was from Vermont, but went to Amherst and passed the bar in Massachusetts. Then he held a bunch of local and state offices in Massachusetts. Blahblahblah. While he was governor of the MA in 1918 or so, the Boston police went all Newsies and tried to form a union through the AFL:



Probably with less adorable musical numbers, however. But so there was a strike, and the mayor of Boston fucked things up, and when Coolidge finally intervened, he was like, "Dear policemen: way to let all this rioting and looting happen in the city, you're totally fired. Oh, and fuck you, Samuel Gompers."* Then other folks were like, "Yeah, fuck those Commie union bastards!" and totally wanted to be BFF with Calvin. Although he did reduce women and children's work week from 54 to 48 hours while governor. Can you say pinko? Anyhow, he was chosen as Warren G. Harding's running mate by party bosses in a smoke-filled room.

So they got elected, and Harding had the audacity (who knew he had a fan in Obama!) to die in office, so Cool Cal got an immediate upgrade. He presided over what came to be known as the "Roaring Twenties." I think this had something to do with a proliferation of leonine merchandise in American popular culture. Or something. He was reelected in 1924, after running a campaign in which he didn't even mention his opponent's name. I will not name his opponent here either, because I would have to go back to Wikipedia and look it up. But anyway, the Coolster kind of thought the federal government should be hands-off so he promoted lowering taxes, kind of just let the economy do whatevs, and also kind of mismanaged/refused to actually manage the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927. Sound familiar, anybody? Eventually he put all-around winner Herbert Hoover in charge of some bullshit recovery effort, but he was mostly just like, "Fuck you, property owners, I'm too busy lowering taxes and not joining the League of Nations and giving lots of historical interviews on the newfangled radio box-machine."


President Coolidge is aware of all radio traditions.**


So he decided not to run again in 1928, but was like, "Maybe in 1932. I'm gonna take a nap now." He was kind of wishy-washy about his support for the Hoovster (probs 'cause he was kinda lame), and went on to write a newspaper column entitled "Calvin Coolidge Says." This was a lamer, print version of the game "Simon Says," in which he advocated fiscal conservatism and watched the over-speculative economy collapse. Or maybe it was an advice column. I don't know. He declined to run in Hoover's place in '32, and died of a heart attack in '33. I imagine he went very quietly. ('Cause he's silent, see?)

Random list of facts about Calvin Coolidge:

1. The only election he ever lost was one for the local school board in 1904.

2. He is the only sitting U.S. President to have visited Cuba. This happened in 1928. Castro was 2, and probably already serving as president-for-life. (Shakes fist at Fidel.) Perhaps he managed to pick up some cigars for his friends back in the ol' Republican Smoke-Filled Room.

3. He was against-ish Prohibition. Like, he didn't think it was cool, but he wasn't going to openly oppose it. We can all hope that he secretly carried a flask.***

4. He thought women should vote. About goddamn time.

5. His wife Grace was very gregarious and the life of the party. He was called "Silent Cal" in comparison to her, though he was considered quite a good public speaker. Kind of like me: see, I enjoy public speaking on occasion, and am not too bad at it, but enjoy all kinds of speaking much more when I'm drinking. Oh wait, that's nothing like Calvin Coolidge. That's just alcoholism. Damn it.

6. He was the first U.S. President to appear on sound film. And to do a bunch of shit on the radio.


*His name has always reminded me of a pair of dentures. You know, like CHOMPERS. Heh heh.

**Also, he could apparently operate a telephone.

***News: Ka$h and I are getting flasks in the mail soon. Public drunkenness has never been easier.