Posts Tagged ‘what will they think of next?’

The first time I saw the commercial, I thought it had to be a gag gift. (But then again, I thought the same thing about the Snuggie, and look how that turned out.) Seriously, though, a product that stops your dog from barking?

Am I the only one who finds something wrong with this? You chose to get a dog, didn’t you realize that barking is his way of expressing himself? Of telling you he’s hungry, has to pee, or alerting you to danger?

As much as you may want to, you wouldn’t buy a product that would render your children mute. The quiet game only works for so long. Presumably, you got a pet to be a member of the family. I’m not suggesting that he eat at the table, or get dibs on shotgun, but allowing him to speak? I think that’s okay.

And then there’s the one woman in the commercial who says, “I would take her for a walk and it was absolutely a trial of patience because she would bark at everything and everyone.” I’m sorry – what kind of animal did you think you were getting?! If she can’t bark during her walk, outside, where and when can she?

I’m still kind of hoping that this will turn out to be a joke, but I’m not optimistic.

That said, if you do buy one and your dog ends up peeing all over the house because he couldn’t bark to have you let him outside, well, I’ll be among the first to say I told you so.

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A couple weeks ago I got a note in the mail that informed me that I’d be receiving my census form soon. Just a little fyi. And aside from a momentary, I can’t believe how much paper they wasted!, I didn’t give it much thought. After all, we’ve been inundated with the message that 2010 is the Year of the Census. And that it’s Absolutely 100% Super Important that we all fill it out. I’ve seen it on bus ads, billboards, and TV, so that little scrap of paper in my mailbox was kind of redundant.

But, because of all of these reminders, I had this idea that the census would be a huge pain to fill out. In my mind, it was pages and pages of personal information, and the reminders were intended to say, we know this is annoying, but please do it anyway. It really is important.

So, when I finally got the actual form, I was prepared for it to take a while. I sat down, pen in hand, and proceeded to read the instructions and fill out the first page.

Then I realized that the first page was the only page. (At least, for me, since I live on my own.)

Where were all the super personal, time-consuming questions? The ones that made me think, government, why do you need to know this? All I really answered was my age, the fact that I live on my own, and my race. And maybe some contact information.

I guess I expected some sort of education or income question. Or maybe even an optional religion one. Or, hell, maybe my astrological sign. Though, I suppose they can figure that one out from my birthday. (Gemini, in case you were wondering.)

But for now I’m only in the system as a 24-year-old white female who rents an apartment and lives by herself.

You sent out all the reminders for that, Census Bureau? Way to make good use of your budget.

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I’ve never been a big fan of the solo mustache – sometimes intrigued, never a fan. As you can see from this photo, even from a young age I had my concerns.


Why, Daddy? Why?

But since I’ve heard about Movember more this year than I ever have before, and it even came up in my daily news round up, I thought I would post a few fun facts and Friday photos that could make me change my mind about that upper lip…”decoration.”

1. The Obvious


2. The World Beard and Moustache Championship

I didn’t realize until now that an official competition existed – and that an American won most recently. Makes me feel all patriotic and whatnot.

3. Halloween


4. Mustache-dense nations

The article mentioned above lists India as the most mustache-dense nation. (How exactly do you measure that?)

Some estimates suggest as many as 80 percent of men in southern India wear moustaches, which immediately places that one region above most countries in terms of moustache-wearing men. Moustaches have long held an important place in Indian culture, seen as a symbol of virility. An Indian also holds the title of the world’s longest moustache, measured in 2004 at 12.5 feet. (Note: 12.5 feet?! What do you do with all that?)

5. Pure dedication


I mean, it still doesn’t do anything for me, but I can appreciate the commitment to your craft.

So here’s to Movember.

If you’re not participating, find someone who is so you can support them (and possibly mock their ‘stache at the same time).

If you are, try to be creative. And please, please post photos.

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I am disturbed.

I’d obviously known for a while that kids today (how old am I again?) are growing up way too fast. I’ve spent time with middle schoolers who dress in a way that I wouldn’t dare unless I was going clubbing; who have been texting since elementary school; and who know more about sex than I ever dreamed of…at that age.

But that doesn’t mean that it still doesn’t shock me to read articles like this one, with lines like these:

By the age of six, girls are accessorising with handbags and branded clothes. By eight and nine they diet and style their hair.

At age 10 and 11, some girls are getting their first Brazilian wax and are holding birthday parties for their friends at beauty salons.

“We’re seeing an increasing number of mums allowing little girls, as soon as they get their periods, to get Brazilian waxes,” Ms Hamilton said. “We’re talking 10 and 11.”

Okay. Deep breath.

When I was six, I was “accessorizing” with my Mickey Mouse purse, that I just couldn’t get enough of. And if my hot pink leggings – that I wore as often as possible, thank you very much – had an actual brand name, I sure as hell didn’t know it.

At sleepovers and birthday parties, of course we experimented with makeup and hair styles, but we were never allowed out of the house like that. Probably for the best, based on past photos.


No, that's not me (or anyone I know), but the outcome was similar...

And my first Brazilian? Please. That didn’t happen until college and wouldn’t have even been feasible, I don’t think, at age ten. Not to mention the fact that while my pain threshold is high now, back then I was still screaming if my mother caught a knot while brushing my hair.

Wax was not an option.

Looking back, maybe there were some things that I started too early as well. Nothing’s perfect. But this current trend is just plain scary. And despite all the awareness, and the somewhat open conversation about it, it doesn’t seem to be getting any better. In fact, it just seems to be continuing and, God forbid, becoming par for the course.

It almost makes me wonder if I should stop being shocked when I hear about how “grown up” pre-teens are. I start to wonder if I’m overreacting…

But I really don’t think I am.

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Dear Country Music –

We need to talk. I really really like you. You know that, right? Not only do you have an excellent showing on my iTunes, but also on my Recently Played list. So you know it’s not just an act.

When other people rag on your lyrics and your twang, I stick up for you. You’re my favorite genre to sing along to in the shower. I even love some of the slightly ridiculous songs – with the lyrics that everyone thinks, but no one else sings.

But, there’s a line. And it’s been crossed.

You started out slowly, just testing the waters. And so I let “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” slide. It’s not one that I’ll download myself, but I’ll keep it on the radio if I can’t find anything better.

And then came “Ticks.” I’m sorry, Brad. I like you a lot; you’re very entertaining. I just can’t get  behind a song whose lyrics say:

Cause I’d like to see you out in the moonlight
I’d like to kiss you way back in the sticks
I’d like to walk you through a field of wildflowers
And I’d like to check you for ticks

But I continued to be a fan, chalking those two up to poor decisions. And who hasn’t made a poor decision or ten in their lifetime? I’m trying to be understanding here.

And then I heard this on the radio this past weekend:

She was rockin’ the beer gut and I love the way she’s not ashamed
Rockin’ the beer gut well it’s just some extra love around her waist
Rockin’ the beer gut she’s more than hot, she’s everything and with the blue jeans a little tight around her butt
Rockin’ the beer gut

You’re killing me, Smalls.

Sexy tractors, ticks and beer guts…it’s like I don’t even know you anymore, Country.

I don’t want to end this, so please, think about what you’re doing.

I’ll be here when you come to your senses,


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I never really fell in love with the Snuggie. It’s not that I’m a hater – it’s too comical to hate – but it’s just not my thing.

But now that they have a designer Snuggie…well, you know, that’s pretty tough to resist.

The bigger question now: how do you choose between leopard and zebra prints?

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In French, we learned that the generic word for a show or performance is “spectacle” – heavy on the “tac.” Last night I saw a show that would fit both the English and French pronunciations.

To be fair, we were seeing a glorified dress rehearsal, and we knew this. The Woolly Mammoth Theater generally offers Pay What You Can viewings for the first two days that a show opens. I love the concept, and sincerely wish that other theaters in the area would consider it. Even better than the student discount!

But this show, Fever/Dream, well….maybe I just didn’t get it?


There were times when the entire audience was laughing, and I felt as though I was on the outside of an inside joke. Now, the girls next to me laughed throughout the entire thing. They clearly knew members of the cast and were just tickled pink to see their friends on stage. Loved it.

I, on the other hand, was initially intrigued by the premise of the show:

  • “Chained to his desk in the basement of customer service hell, Segis suddenly finds himself set free in the CEO’s penthouse—but is it a dream? This raucous reinvention of Pedro Calderón de la Barca’s Life is a Dream gleefully skewers corporate America with razor-sharp wit and the biggest cast ever assembled on Woolly’s stage.”

And I was hopeful after the opening scene fairly accurately portrayed the misery of a customer service representative, literally chained to his desk. My hopes were quickly dashed, however, as we were introduced to inconsequential story lines, shallow characters, and just general absurdity.


I don’t want to ruin it for you, but there was a wand, a choreographed table battle, and a drawn out monologue on appreciation. And the ending? Well, I couldn’t spoil it for you if I wanted to. Believe me.

The perks were there, too, I suppose. For a show concerning the work place and technology in general, it dealt well with both the constant text messages (including the “IM language” – cant w8 2 C U!!) and the need to be in constant communication. There was also a team of young employees who felt the need to vlog everything. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…) Now that I think about it, I’m surprised there was no mention of Twitter.

But, all that said, perhaps my theater partner put it best: “There was one point when my mouth was just agape.” I think that sums it up.

And if you finish reading this post and find yourself wondering what the hell the point was? Well, that’s exactly how I felt last night.

You’re welcome.

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