Quiet Sneezers Are Incredibly Disappointing.

Let me just get something out of the way before proceeding into today top story.

I’m pretty psyched that my blog has officially been viewed over 10,000 times. Like, really psyched – I went out and bought a boat and named it Steve. You don’t see a lot of Steve boats out on the water. (Kinda sounds like steamboat, right? Exactly.)

Anyway, I’m incredibly grateful to everyone who has ever visited my blog, whether that’s once in all or 20 times a day (thanks Mom). The point is –


Seriously. I don’t. But I know I love jotting down ideas, wandering the internet, and staring blankly at the empty “Add New Post” window searching my brain for something stupid and weird and amazing to post. I always say, if you can’t make YOU laugh, then you should just kill yourself. Or something along those lines. I love writing this blog everyday and I thoroughly entertain me. So if I’m able to entertain 10,000+ more people, then that is a great success in my book.

In other news, what the hell is it with quiet sneezers?


As I was on my way home the other day on the train, I was sitting by the aisle next to this perfectly decent woman who was minding her own business, reading her iPad, and listening to music. Just the way I like my fellow commuter: a multitasker and a non-talker. Though sometimes I wonder how people can listen to music AND read at the same time. When I put on music, I’m usually singing along in my head or imagining a very detailed Grammy/’90s VMA performance where I’m nominated in all categories (a first in history) and I win everything (a first in history). You know it’s a good year for me when I win all the major Male categories whilst being a proud owner of a vagina.

Regardless, this multitasking woman suddenly needed to sneeze. We all know what it’s like when your nose needs to hurl. It’s like an uncomfortable constipation happening in your sinuses. So she covered her iPad because, yea, let’s protect. There’s no snot warranty (or is there?). I was preparing myself for a total jolt in the seat when she bent forward toward the window and gave the most unimpressive pussy sneeze. It was just a tiny little thing. All that build up for nothing.

I was about ready to ask her, “Are you fucking serious with that shit?” when she gave another super disappointing head nod of a sneeze.

I just don’t get it. I’m not asking for snot rockets here, but quiet sneezers baffle me. Granted, I’m sure there’s something genetic going on, but come on. My sneezes literally convulse my body. I know when a sneeze is coming because my arms rear up, becoming something of a kraken, and I lose all ability to control them. Once the sneeze is out, they just spin around me. Luckily, I’ve been able to start controlling my right arm, or at least at the elbow, so it covers my face. Nothing is more disgusting and inconsiderate than someone who sneezes out as if they’re watering the lawn.

Most people might prefer quiet sneezers, but I don’t. When I sneeze, it feels damn good. My arms, my face – they’re in it together. Even those people who give that retched scream before sneezing seem to really get the most of it. Sure, it may stimulate a few heart attacks from innocent bystanders, and maybe a variety of “WTF was that?” looks from folks, but screw it! You let it all out, Obnoxious Sneezers! Just don’t sneeze more than twice. You gotta get your shit together after two.

I’m assuming my selective sneezing nature comes from the fact that mine feel like this great exclamation point. Sometimes it’ll take a whole day to get the damn thing out, constantly looking up into lights and confusing people around you as they think you’re chasing some other kind of light. But once my nose decides it’s time, I go out with a bang. So when I watch people sneeze in such a wee manner, I wonder if they’re always disappointed with themselves, or if their nose is sad. I know their arms are, they don’t get to do anything.

Mine, however, get to do this when I sneeze.

kermit the frog flail

Ah, it hurts so good.

Who Says The Art Of Handwriting Is Dead?

It’s true, nowadays people don’t write as much. And when I say “write” I mean the Jane Austen type of writing – with a quill and a tiny jar of ink.

People just don’t need to put pen to paper anymore since there’s a fake, looks-like-I’m-writing-a-real-note application on every smartphone, iPad, smart pad, tabletberry out there. Everyone would much rather type it than write it these days, even when leaving a note for a slob roommate or the office kleptomaniac. Sometimes I think if I were to hand someone younger than me an unsharpened pencil, they’d look at it as if it were searing off their fingers and giving them VD. Our conversation would go as such:

Me: “I have a pencil.”

Youth: “Really? Is it a free app?”

Me: “No, it’s a thing. Like, a tangible object. Here.”


Me: “Fuck this. Give it back.”

Granted, my high school and college experience was a transitional time when technology was just getting the hang of things. We had a typewriter when I was little, but mainly technology was something of a wonder when I was growing up, not a necessity. Mind you, without my massive, loud, and temperamental Fujitsu laptop in college, I would’ve been in the library’s computer room far more than I should.

Now, I wonder when students will no longer need those blue test books, which may have single-handedly induced my entire generation with premature arthritis. But having to handwrite all of my exams and in-class essays forced me, and everyone else in the same bucket, to really think. No one has to think about what they write anymore, which is why the autocorrect industry is thriving. No one checks their spelling, no gives a shit. Maybe it’s because there’s something about misspelling on paper that seems to be more embarrassing than typing, probably because technology either 1) tells you when you spelled it wrong, 2) corrects it for you, or 3) makes you look like a comedian by inserting a word like “vagina” instead of “over.” (“Hey, when are you coming vagina?” “*Vagina” “UGH vagina” “FUCK IT IM DONE”.)

Well, I’d like to take the approach of the glass being half full in this scenario, because I wouldn’t say the art of handwriting is dead yet. And to prove my theory, here are a bunch of examples of people using their inner Jane Austen (and her eloquence, of course) to make a point.













Thrift Shopping in Diagon Alley.

By now, everyone should know the song “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore. It’s the only rap song on the radio that’s actually practical. Why YES, I do like thrift shopping. I find it much more worth my money to browse inexpensive clothing and usable knick knacks than paying $50 for one shirt, because I will most definitely spill something on it or just…drool. Believe that.

So when this crafty little ditty comes on my radio, I crank that shit up. I can respect Macklemore wanting to dress up like a grandfather, it’s not really my thing, but no one can deny the warm suppleness of a knit sweater and elbow patches. I mean, without those patches, your elbows would be imprinted with grids of thread when resting them on a table surface, and that’s fucked up – no matter how much tougher the elbow skin is.

I’m more of a granny chic Maxxinista myself. See, I’m convinced there’s a 70 year-old woman living inside of me (which explains my love of wrapped candies), my name is Sharon Ruth, after all. So if I see a really awesome collared shirt or any shoes with laces, I’m pretty much sold.

Most of the time, places like Urban Outfitters ride the granny train HARD. To the point where, if any grandparent scanned through a bunch of their clothes, they’d be like, “Jesus Abe Lincoln, this shit is old.” But it’s not old, it’s new clothes trying to be old while priced like an antique store, and that’s so much worse. No, I do not want to buy your cut out doily blouse. The back literally doesn’t exist and my bra does. That’s $60 well saved. If you want to dress like a grandpa, thrift that shit.

Thus, the whole “Thrift Shop” tune is something I can actually thoroughly agree with, not just rap along to – which is more acceptable because Macklemore is white. YAY!

This is where I put in a Harry Potter reference, because it’s my blog so I can AND I WILL.

Snape, sup?


So My Best Friend Totally Won An Oscar Last Night.

Hypothetical best friend, but that’s just a silly technicality based off the fact that we haven’t met.

Regardless, Jennifer Lawrence (who I like to call Miri, because we’re tight like that…in my head) won the Oscar last night for Best Actress and I screamed like a little girl.

jen lawrence oscar

The best part was my mom said to me after the show, “You called it! The Academy must read your blog.” To which I replied:


That’s sweet, Ma, and you’re probably right. VICTORY IS SWEET.

But not as sweet as this fall.

jen lawrence falls

Of course she fell, it’s soooooo Jen to fall. I would know, we’re best friends. And how nice was Hugh Jackman to rush in and try to help her? She had no idea there was a piece of hot Aussie ass extending his man hand out to try and assist her. It’s only the biggest moment in her career in the biggest dress of all time.


Miri sure knows how to recover though, am I right?


Let’s recap the rest of her embarrassing and perfect moments from last night.

jennifer-lawrence RC2


Jennifer-Lawrence-Oscars RC

Never change, Jen.


jen lawrence ddl

Just cheers-ing her Oscar with her fellow winners, which includes Daniel Fucking-Day-Lewis, possibly the greatest living actor right now. NO BIG. HA HA HA!

Jennifer-Lawrence-Jack-Nicholson-Oscars-GIF Jennifer-Lawrence-Oscars-GIF-10

Then, as Jen is giving a legendary post-Oscar interview, Jack Nicholson interrupts and tells her she’s fantastic and perfect and amazing and all things I already knew because we’re best friends.

RANDOM MIRI FACT: Did you know Jen/Miri hates the club scene because she “doesn’t have the stomach to get really wasted. Four drinks, and I’m barfing.” WE ARE THE SAME PERSON. (see About Me section or ask Mike.)

Basically, to sum up last night’s Oscars:

jen lawrence yea

Yep, nailed it.

Oscar Sunday: Give It To Jennifer Lawrence, Goddammit.

I’m still smiling like an idiot from last night’s back-to-back episodes of Parks & Recreation, featuring the greatest television wedding of all time.

My emotions can best be summed up by this visual aid.


So while I’m floating on this cloud of fucking SPLENDOR, I’d like to make a last ditch plea to the Academy Awards – since I’m sure they’re all avid readers of my little blog here.

Firstly, the Oscars are on Sunday.


Secondly, give Jennifer Lawrence a golden naked man statue. In 2012, she was amazing in Silver Linings Playbook, she starred in The Hunger Games and kicked so much ass, and she managed to basically be the greatest human being on Earth (tied with Amy Poehler, Tina Fey, Jennifer Aniston, and Emma Stone – naturally). Ryan Gosling remains in a world of his own. Unicorns aren’t human, after all. C’mon.

Right now, the Best Actress category seems like a three-way race between Jennifer Lawrence, Jessica Chastain, and Emmanuelle Riva. So how do each stack up?

Jessica Chastain starred in Zero Dark Thirty, a movie that is sadly being thrown to the wayside by the Oscars. Chastain might be the only shot this movie has at some golden recognition, but I don’t think this ginger firecracker was the best thing about the movie. She proved her intelligence, but this story was never about her life as much as it was about her work, so the emotional depth of her character Maya was total shit. Jason Bourne had a fuller life when he couldn’t even remember it. Thus, the real star of the show is Kathryn Bigelow, who directed ZD30 and did a helluva job of it. The last act where the Navy Seals go on their mission was the epitome of shitting-your-pants excitement. No background score needed, just heavy breathing, whispers, and the worse anxiety of my fucking life. So if anyone should get some kudos from this film, it should be Bigelow. But the Oscars are awful and didn’t nominate her. Here’s hoping ZD30 scores an editing win or something. Pitiful.

Emmanuelle Riva starred in Amour, which I haven’t seen but I hear it’s suuuuuuper depressing. She one half of an old couple and they’re dying together so and it’s like the French version of The Notebook but with only the old people. I’m sure it will destroy all feeling of good in you. Riva just won the BAFTA (basically the British Oscars) for Best Actress, but that’s about it. Her only other heart string to pull is the fact that she’s incredibly old and will turn 86 on Oscar night. GODDAMN YOU RIVA. You make such a strong case. Amour will definitely win the Best Foreign Picture category, so perhaps voters will be settled enough with that. Regardless, I’m looking forward to seeing this movie at some point, but I’ll wait until I feel that maybe love isn’t real so it won’t tear me down and lose all hope in humanity.

Jennifer Lawrence. She won the Golden Globe for Best Comedy Actress and the SAG Award for Best Actress. I’m pretty sure she single-handedly brought Robert DeNiro out of his acting funk, and, for this, she must be rewarded. The girl knows how to act but not how to give acceptance speeches, which means hers are the best and I hope to GAWD that she wins the Oscar. She won’t even know what to do with herself, she’ll probably say the words “poop” and “rash” among an audience of Daniel Day Lewis. Perfection.

So, please, Oscar – give it up for my unofficial friend Miri. You know you want to, just imagine the possibilities.

j Law haute couture   J Law red carpet


jennifer-lawrence-golden-girls-acceptance-speech-funny   j Law GG post

May the odds be ever in her favor.

13 Products With Discreet Names.

I’m being sarcastic. These names are dirty and whorish.

Anytime I see such hilariously named products, I feel like brand marketing isn’t such a hard career to chase. Because I’m pretty sure all these items below were named by drunk college kids who haven’t picked their major yet.

Side note: Thirteen is my favorite number. It’s notorious for being unlucky and creepy and therefore I’ve taken it under my wing and have been raising its self-esteem since I was in 4th grade.

Here are 13 of the most fucked up products I Googled today. (Because what else is Google here for?)

baby fingering product

For white babies, which makes sense because all the pedophiles in the world are caucasian men. This is science.

black kid's computer desk

It seems that affirmative action shit might be working. Keep those black kids in school, Target!


I am sickened with myself that I want to try one. Are they hairy? Might be a dealbreaker.


That’s the longest nipple I’ve ever seen outside of a National Geographic.


That Minnow Shot part is a real fucking buzzkill.


This is perfect marketing. I salute you, Watson.


This should come in a gift bag with the Hand Job gloves.

Pedo packaging

WHITE BABIES OF COURSE. But by the look on those babies’ faces, no one is being taken advantage of.

princess leia statue box


mr bean


Jane Seymour’s other line of jewelry. Don’t try to be romantic and sophisticated, Jane. WE’VE ALL SEEN YOUR BOOBS. Kitty Cat.

pussi food

Look at those whore eyes.


Let’s just call it what it is. Truth in marketing.


While I love the rhyming, this totally makes me want to projectile vomit.

Harry Potter Hump Day, Part Deux.

Because I’m the Chosen Blog and it’s only the greatest day of this week.

Except for tomorrow, when there will be two – TWO – episodes of Parks & Recreation. That’s one whole fucking hour.

Nonetheless, today is Wednesday, also known as Hump Day. Let’s get through mid-week together with some Potterness, shall we? YES.

harry potter funny











This Shrub Hates You & The World.

It looks like the shrubbery I planted outside of Angelina Jolie’s house has finally come into its own.

tree hates world

I call it the Jenniflower. What do you think of it, Jen, darling?

jen aniston

Goddamn right. No big. Heart you.


Lessons Learned From Disney.

There’s so much Disney has taught me from a young age, it’s hard to keep track of it all.

Here are a few examples:

  • Magic exists.
  • Mice are basically tiny humans.
  • I should be able to sing with animals.
  • I will likely marry a prince no matter my socioeconomic status.
  • My best friend should probably be a talking animal, preferably one that can sit on my shoulder.
  • Lions are cuddly and in no way harmful.
  • My dinnerware should sing to me while serving me food.
  • Someone is always out to kill me, and they’re likely in my family.

Now I can add this one to the list.


Goddammit. This is a hard pill to swallow.

Thank you, Disney. Once again you are full of wisdom and sexual undertones.

Happy Single Awareness Day, Everyone.

It’s fucking Valentine’s Day.

game of thrones

Let me start off by saying I’m happily taken and have been so for three and half years, so this day is pretty Switzerland to me. I’m fairly neutral. Could take it or leave it in terms of flowers and cards and dinners and such. Chocolates, however, GIVE THEM TO MEEEE. I’m not going to say no to chocolates. Mike – CHOCOLATES.

But even having a good man by my side, there’s always so much anxiety around the whole Valentine’s Day thing. When growing up, V-Day is this really sweet, group show of love, where everyone brought Valentines to school in bulk and handed them out to their whole class. So by the end of the day you had racked up around 40 or so little pieces of forced love with shitty handwriting and your name spelled wrong. It was aahhhhhhhmazing.

Then you hit puberty and you’re like FUCK. It would mean more if this guy/girl gave me a Valentine, and if so then WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!?1

Then you get your first boyfriend and you’re like YES. This is fucking awesome! I’m guaranteed flowers, a card, and chocolates!

And then you get broken up with and you’re like FUCK THIS SHIT. This is never what St. Valentine meant, Hallmark is such a dickface, and I’m gonna die alone.

But then you feel like you’ve conquered your independent single-hood, you’ve developed a real kinship with Beyonce’s music, and you’re more like I DON’T NEED A MAN, JUST A BOTTLE OF WINE. And suddenly your girlfriends are far more important to you than ever on V-Day so you start celebrating ovaries over brovaries while chugging said bottle of wine and watching “The Notebook”, only to later cry about how no one will ever – EVER – amount to the man that Ryan Gosling is. And you’re right.

Currently, you’re either in this boat or you’re in a relationship. And if you’re in the latter, you’re one of two people: 1) You expect a damn good Valentine’s Day and you’re going to make sure everyone on your social media networks know about it, good or bad, or 2) It’s a fun day to wear red and show a little extra love but you could really give two shits.

Now that the V-Day bases have been covered, most people are probably scrambling to find the perfect e-card to send to that someone (not so) special. Well look no further because I’ve got a fucking TREAT.

Here are 9 Valentine’s Day cards to send to the love(s) of your life. (You’re welcome, procrastinators.)


Best i can do

big-bang die_hard_5_trailer_valentines_day


homeland nic cage ron swanson

And lastly, you didn’t think I could go through V-Day without him, right? Because Ryan Gosling.

ryan gosling


Happy Valentine’s Day!