THAT'S NOT A THING

This is pretty much an extended vaguebook post.
By the way, did you know there's a whole site other than Facebook that's dedicated to vaguebooking?? THERE IS.
(Also, have you checked this week's Secrets yet? I haven't either, but I thought I'd take a sec to remind us both.)
Anyway, you know when you're just so fed up with a sitch and you're just like, 'Yooooo, That's Not A Thing, I Am OUT, I Just CAN'T WITH THIS.'?
My dear, sweet Marv is the Queen of making not-a-things into OMG THINGS, and I'm like, honey-baby-darling, could you Just Fucking NOT? The other day, she forgot to have me sign a form, so she came in my room in the middle of the night when it was still pitch-black outside (8 am), and I couldn't even hardly open my eyes and I'm all like, I'll just get up and we can go in the kitchen where I can maybe see what I'm doing and have a hard surface to write on and stuff, and she's like, no, it's fine, and tries to turn on my bedside lamp, but apparently has never ever used a lamp before (side note: I love lamp) and turns the turny-onny stem thing the wrong way so she's just unscrewing it and somehow, it still turns on the very second the screwy thing falls off the damn lamp and rolls under my bed, and because she had slept in my bed the night before, I had gotten about 23 seconds of sleep, and this was literally like the worst thing ever. I'm like OMG, if you would have just let me get my damn slugass out of bed, this wouldn't have been the worst thing ever.
Last night, she wanted me to make steak. Even though there's like, a wall of flotsam, jetsam, and detritus in front of the grill (because nothing ever gets actually cleaned, my children just move their junk to another place where I won't see it for a bit and I'll get off their backs about it), and then, as soon as I'm standing in the smoke and steam of a 550° grill, she's like, I need these forms signed by tomorrow. I'm like, it's only 5-fucking-thirty, calm the fuck down, that shit's gonna combust from both the heat of the grill and my fiery rage RN, so if you could just put them on the fucking table, I will deal with them when I'm done sweating my ass off for you. KTHXBYE.
ANYWAY, LONG STORY NOT MADE ANY SHORTER: STOP MAKING 'things' INTO 'THINGS'. You know that thing you're dealing with right now? Yeah, it probably sucks, but you know what, it's not even really a thing. Or, at least, it's not as big of a thing as you're making it into. It could just be a 'whatever'. Take a deep breath, have a nap or a drink or a smoke or a snack, watch some Netflix or something. Or read the fucking news and be grateful that your thing isn't nearly as bad as the actual Things happening out in the world.


Speaking of things happening out in the world, my kids scored an invite to U of I's Black Alumni celebration. (And not the kid you'd think! it was addressed to OperationDelta, not DJStruggs!)

Anyway, I know it's short notice, but maybe we should go? Although, I am a little offended he only got the invite for the 'Day Party'. That implies there's a 'Night Party' where shit is probably LIT AF, but apparently, we didn't qualify for that. Check out that Ciroc Flavors special, tho!!! 

#GinOut #LitAF

In Which I get More Cranky and Temperamental as I Age

This morning, I woke up and my favorite drinking vessel wasn't clean, and I was pretty much like, "welp, I guess I'm just gonna cancel today, then." And then of course, I was thinking about how messed up that is. Like, get over it, yo. There's at least 3 other glasses in the cupboard that you like to use. JUST USE ONE OF THEM. But two are too tall for my one-cup-8-fl-oz of coffee, and the other one... just isn't my cup. It's not my coffee cup, anyway. It's my milk glass, if I ever feel the urge to drink something that was squeezed out of a living cow, like that's a normal thing to do.
I don't have a lot of patience for people who are capable of solving their problems, yet refuse to do so--and as a bonus, they continue to go on and on about how awful this [whatever] is. And I know I'm being That Guy. For crying out loud, these mug things are practically free from ThinkGeek, just order another one! But then I'm like, except they don't stack, and we already don't have enough cupboard space... THAT GUY. So then my solution is, well, I'll just make sure it's in the dishwasher and the dishwasher gets run every night (OMG, it just occurred to me that I could have just taken the mug out of the dishwasher and washed it by hand. Yup, THAT GUY.) Anyway, but the reality of the situation is, for as much as I'm like, 'I'm gonna FlyLady the fuck out this shit! We gon' be sweeping and wiping counters and taking out trash and running the dishwasher every night as part of our before bed routine!' ... we don't actually always hit those goals--which is fine, except then I don't have my stupid mug in the morning. And then, because I made that resolution, I'm mad about my mug AND the fact that we didn't accomplish our (what's the opposite of "lofty"? humble?) goals the night before.
SO. I'm just gonna order a second fucking mug. Here I go. I just have to hit the $75+ mark so I can get free shipping. Because if I don't take advantage of that offer, it's like I was just robbed. Much better to pay an extra $65+ for stuff I wasn't actively seeking out.
My mug, BTW:

Photo courtesy of ThinkGeek, because mine is in the dishwasher, obvs.

In Which I Am Too Dumb to Function

I don't know what the hell is going on, but my memory is just like, gone. I was up at like, 3am on Monday morning, and I was so unsure of what day it was, I was starting to panic. I know it's common to be a little messed up on around federal holidays, but still. I'm also literally forgetting things almost immediately, like my neighbors name (sort of understandable b/c I was all anxiety-awkward panicky) but I'll forget the answer to a question I just asked my kids, which is not like me. I feel flighty and forgetful and unfocused--UNABLE to focus.
My nerdspaper arrived yesterday, FINALLY, and I just couldn't even with it. I just couldn't focus. I did a couple of the puzzles over several hours, but I'm just not into it like I usually am.

Also, the puzzles are REALLY DIFFICULT. Like, I don't even know what they're asking for. And I can't focus, so I'm just like derpy derpy durr durr... just gonna stare blankly at the... something, I don't even know at this point.

This was an easy puzzle. At least, one part of it was. The other part made very little sense, and I can't figure out the last bit at all.

In other news, the pirate thing I ordered for Marv is going over pretty well, after an initial hiccup. The first mailing arrived last Friday and she was NOT into it, and I was ready to light myself on fire.

Mailing #1

She had no interest in the letters or the cipher, and only wanted the key. Fucking kill me.

Luckily, the first mailing had trouble crossing the border or something, so the second mailing came the next day. Oh, also, and I know I could totally insert this bit in the appropriate place (heh) but whatever. When the first mailing came, Struggs was all like, 'oh, yeah Marv, me & OD didn't want to do this, so Mom got it for you,' and I'm like, STFU, Struggs, that's not even what happened, and don't make this seem like a punishment, it's meant to be fun, you asshole. (That's what all led to me putting my head in the oven. I was unusually delicate that day or something.) ANYWAY, the second mailing came, and guess who suddenly wanted to be involved?

If this were an actual publication, I'd subscribe immediately.

That's right, fuckin' Struggs all up in the jam. Considering they spend the majority of their time arguing, this melted my obsidian heart a little bit. 

Which leads me to my final point:

I hate ventriloquists.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, USPS??

I literally got 9 parcels in the mail today. (Because, holiday.)
Shirts for weirdos, a fancy compass for mathy things, some shit Mary ordered two fucking months ago from Malaysia that finally decided to show up, a calendar to hang in my kitchen and never look at, etc.
Everything except the ONE FUCKING THING I wanted to arrive: my fucking C&C puzzle newspaper nerdery.

These motherfuckers be trollin' me.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, USPS?? I NEVER have beef with the P.O. until NOW.

I got a book in the mail on Saturday that was bent in half like fucking origami. WHY? AND I got a fucking final notice for a parcel that I never received a first notice for. 

To add insult to injury, or I guess injury to insult, I fucking wiped the fuck out on our gotdamn boardwalk on my way to the car to get the fucking aforementioned parcel. Now I am absolutely dead in a twisted deadass pretzel of pain, and the fucking USPS is trollin', tryin'a tell me that that motherfucking 9x12" envelope made it from fucking ROCHESTER, NY to the STP in SIXTEEN HOURS and somehow can't make it those last 25 miles (30 minute drive) to my hood in almost 2 days? And don't give me any of that, but holiday! shit, because I've been tracking all these things, and loads of postal workers were working during the holiday. I don't know WTF happens over there at that fucking Eagan PO, but they're the worst. I've literally had a package go from fucking Eagan to Stillwater, then BACK to Eagan before actually being delivered to me.

I'm so fucking grumpy, I can't even do anything besides grump about being grumpy.

Get off my fucking lawn.

WTF, Netflix?

I slept virtually not at all last night. I was in so much sinus pain that I wanted to rip my teeth out, but I was also too fucking lazy to get up and take NyQuil.
So, this morning, I got some beef with Netflix. I hate that I can't delete shit from all the bullshit they show to me. I AM NOT INTERESTED in Jeff Foxworthy or Larry the Cable Guy, so if you could stop offering that as an option, that'd be greeeeat.
Some mofo that I live with, who shall remain nameless, will go scroll-scroll-scrolling through all the whatever, trending now, or whatever, and seriously, by the time he fucking settles on something to watch (NCIS, obvs), the pizza's gone cold and it's time for bed.
Oh, AND, you know how when you watch a series, but you're only on like, ep 3, and then the next time you fire up the 'Flix, it's all like, "oh hai! here, finish watching that thing!"? but when you finish a series, they remove it from your recently watched. What the actual fuck is that shit? Look, I literally have been watching Black Books, the IT Crowd, Better Off Ted, Sherlock, and Doc Martin over and over and over and over and over for like, 6 months straight. And you KNOW this, man! So when the final ep finishes playing and the PS3 times out because I'm asleep, do me a damn favor and put that back in my 'recently watched' queue so I don't have to go searching for it tomorrow.
Which, actually, makes me realize that if I'd just put those five shows directly on the PS3, I could probably break up with Netflix completely. Too bad the FBI or the ADA or the FDA or whoever is all mad about "pirating" shows. HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO WATCH THE BIG BANG THEORY??
...
Which leads me to... How DO people watch TV? It's been so long since we had TV, I really don't even know how people do it now. Are DVRs still a thing? I don't think you need an actual, tangible DVR device anymore, do you? Isn't everything just sort of on demand? What about things that aren't? You just sort of ... request to like, save a show in your queue? (I just looked up DVR and saw that literally, 3 hours ago, TiVo said it's phasing out support for its devices or something)
I know it's all, get-off-my-lawn-y of me, but I miss the old days of TVs with 7 channels and analog dials and rabbit ear antennas. My kid just told me he saw a commercial for something, and I was all like, "a commercial??!!?!?!" as if that was the most preposterous thing ever. I can't remember the last time I saw a commercial--well, it was probably when we were in Winona last winter for hockey and I was watching the hotel TV (NCIS, obvs). I was nearly apoplectic with rage and frustration over the seemingly-constant commercials, even though I remember them being only for a tree house show?

I've hit the tech wall. I just can't. I don't know how to work any of the controller things, except my trusty PS3. I LITERALLY don't know how to turn on the PS4 or the WiiU, or how to make either of those, the Xbox360, or the Xbone show up on the teevee screen. I have my laptop, my 3DS (I'm not even sure if that's what it's called?), and my PS3. I can't even work any of the kids' iPhones. I've become my 90-year old grandma.

Now get the fuck off my lawn.

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If You're Not Listening To Welcome To Night Vale, I Just Don't Know What You're Doing With Your Life

I mean, really. Here's a link, if your Google-searching fingers are broken.

These are not all Night Valian, but they're Night Valesque.

I was trying to freak her out. That shit backfired on me rul quick.

#me

PicDump - Saturday Edition 01

But first, a shoutout to my girls. You know when you're in relationships that are just fucking draining and it's a chore to make time for them because after you spend time with that person, you just feel sad and dead and tired? Well, my gfs are the opposite. The past couple of times I've had a chance to chill with them, we stay up way too late, having a good time, and I drive home just *~*~*~*~ENERGIZED~*~*~*~* and full of happiness and whatever. I get home and I should be deadass tired (just because it's like, 3 am and it does take effort for me to get out of the house and stuff) but I lie awake in bed just... happy. So thanks, you guys. *mwah* *mwah* *mushy* *blah*

Now onto the random shit I collected on the internet this past week or whatever:

Hannah Hillam Insta

Yooo this is the thing I'm trying to find. It was purchased at Target and its head fell off. I need a new one for Struggs!!!

This jacket is bomb, yo. Buy it for me Marv.

Kesha and The Creepies!!!

Sam Irby, obvs, and @thedryginger.

OK, this is literally the LEAST FLATTERING catalog photo I've EVER seen. But, OTOH, they totally get credit for being real. I mean, that's what those pants are gonna look like on your mombod, yo.