Honey Badger is Strange

This is fucking hilarious.  I can't stop watching it, but every time I do watch I can't help but think what the fuck is wrong with me?  I am 22 years old sitting in my house watching a mother fucking youtube video about a honey badger with a gay voice over.  And you know what, I don't give a shit, I'll laugh all by myself I don't care.

The most disturbing thing is not that this stupid video has almost 10,000 views, but that some man actually sat there and thought to record a voice over, put it with the video and then put it on youtube.  What??? Does he have a day job?  What type of person does this kind of shit? It's fucking strange.  Now I know once in a while I'll have this idea that I think is good, like when I wanted my eyebrow pierced, but I never go through with it.  Something in my brain stops me and says, hey this is pretty weird maybe think it over one more time.  Then I usually squash the idea.  But no, this gay man doesn't give a shit.  He is going through a mid-life crisis, shunned away in his parents' basement because they hate him and he can't find a partner to love him, he still uses his Elmo cup to drink chocolate milk out of, and talks to his best friend pet hamster, but he doesn't care he'll do voice overs all day.  He doesn't give a shit.  

Regardless, there are countless disturbing and just strange videos on youtube, and it blows my mind that there are people out there strange enough to record some of that shit.  We live on a weird mother fucking planet.

Writers Block is Strange

You know that time you had a really big paper to write, or a fucking good idea of a topic to write about, and you sat down but nothing could fucking come out of your head?

Well that is what we are experiencing here at Strange Shenanigans.
It's called mother fucking writers block, and it BLOWS.


We have tossed around multiple ideas of strange shit to write about, and fuck we have even written some posts and never published them.  Because our minds are fucking blocked.  It's like construction workers just climbed in our big brains and stopped the traffic that was previously flowing freely.

FACKKK.

And you know what, it is fucking strange.  Everyone gets writers block once in a while, usually when a paper is due in 2 hours and for some reason we can't get the words in our brains to sound good in writing.  Even the phrase is strange.  "writers block" no, actually I think it's god just fucking with us again.

So until the blog gods decide they want us to be funny again, we will be brainstorming, writing, and not posting until we are fucking funny.

Overly Nice People are Strange

Have you ever heard the expression, "Nice guys finish last"?  Yea?  Well it's because they fucking do.  And this goes for both sexes.  When's the last time you saw a super nice guy land the girl of his dreams or vise versa?  Probably never, and if by some crazy chance you have an exceptional story for me for this circumstance, it's more than likely bullshit.  The girl/guy was probably trying this weird phenomenon out only to realize in the end they want someone that's going to put them in their place.  You know, insult them a little, make them feel less than. 
Whether we, as girls, are willing to admit it or not, we like guys that are assholes.  Plain and simple.  Any girl that says, "I just want a nice guy to settle down with," is a blatant liar.  Who the fuck wants to date someone that will let you walk all over them and trample all over their heart?  That shit's boring as fuck.  I can't understand why anyone gives into the whole "nice" thing.  Do us all a favor and snap the fuck out of it, no one wants you to be an astoundingly nice person all the time because let's be honest, no one is actually that fucking nice.  As far as I'm concerned, someone who is nice all the time is a ticking time bomb about to Nagasaki all over your ass.
And girls that are overly nice are just as fucking annoying.  Grow a mother fucking back-bone and stand up for yourself.  If I am insulting you and saying how wrong you are, don't agree with me.  Tell me to fuck off and prove it or something I don't know.  No one likes the "nice person"  I'm not a fucking prick, but it's true.  Think about that person either in class, in your group of friends or at work, who is the nicest fucking clown that just tries to be loved.  Do you genuinely like that person?  Absolutely not.  Don't even lie to yourself, you know they are as annoying as trashy white people hanging out on street corners fighting with their baby mammas and ex bros and stuff.  Which speaking of, get a job, take care of your kids and get away from the fucking mini marts.
Anyways, nice people finish last for a reason.  Pull out your dick and piss on the world like everyone else is.  Join the party!

CLEO IS STRANGE!

3W MJJQUW3QQjhbhnnjmkhg

Love,
Cleopatra

Mom Haircuts are strange.

This little tid bit struck us as so odd the other day and I'm pretty sure we succeeded in carrying out a conversation for around ten whole minutes about it.  Mom haircuts... what the fuck.  First of all, my mom has a mom haircut so I'm not calling anyone's mom a douchebag or anything for having a mom haircut, I fucking love my mom.  Anyways, I just don't really understand why women reach a certain age and resort to cutting their hair to a dikey, butch sort of a thing.  As far as I'm concerned, I'm pretty sure throwing your hair in a ponytail is a hell of a lot easier than doing that weird half, fat curl thing you guys do and hairspraying the shit out of it.  I understand that it's all supposed to be about convenience and not wanting to fuck around with your hair when your kids are annoying the living hell out of you.  But hear me loud and clear, no one is going to hate on a ponytail.  If a ponytail portrays laziness on the mom's behalf, then whoever thinks this can go fuck themselves.  I mean, is long hair supposed to be given up at a certain age or something?  It sure as hell seems like it the way that mom haircuts are so prevalent these days.  It's like once these women reach a certain age they call up their friends like, "Fuckkk, it's mom haircut time girls.  I gotta cut my hair off today, society said so," at which point their friends are like "Yea, my mom haircut days are approaching quickly ughhh."    Let me add in that I'm aware some girls like their hair at a short length, but obviously that's not what I'm talking about so don't try that shit.  I'm talking about how so many women between the ages of 40- and on have the same general haircut.  I just want some fucking answers explaining this phenomenon.  Until that happens I'm forever boycotting the shit out of the mom haircut.  I will stand my ground!

PS- A big thanks to those who took their time out to leave nice little comments on the previous blog, nice and hateful.  Incase you haven't noticed, the blog is titled "Strange Shenanigans", it's not supposed to be of any importance or relevance.  It's merely us bitching about things we find funny.  You say blogging is not our thing as if you know a thing or two about it, but your repetitive insult of "dumb, ugly whores" hardly does you any justice.  Nice touch with the all-caps too, we were really shook with those frightening capitalized letters.  Thanks for obviously reading our stuff, however, and adding in your angry 2 cents as if we give a fuck.  If this is so bothersome to you, hop off our website. 

It's Strange How Obsessed You Are With Charlie Sheen

As everyone in the world knows, Charlie Sheen is off his fucking rocker, which is all cool and dandy and shit.  Now I haven't been paying too much attention to it, but basically he got famous and funny, did a bunch of drugs and lives with porn-stars he calls his angels, right?  Act like you wouldn't do the same exact shit if you were Charlie Sheen.  He is old and ugly and isn't gonna get much farther in life, so why not fuck everything up and get mass publicity.  I mean yeah he says some fucking funny shit and sounds like a complete jackass, which I guess makes all you assholes feel better about your insignificant and boring lives, but quit embellishing your vocabulary with Charlie Sheen's phrases.  Just because he can say "winning" and sound hilarious, doesn't mean you can! You are most definitely losing because you can't come up with your own one-liners, and also because your a huge douche trying to be a rock star, and epically failing.

I was most disappointed when I saw this on TMZ's website...

(TMZ) Sources at South Shore Tattoo in Amityville tell TMZ -- the artist responsible is a guy named Mike Nomy ... who implanted the tiger ink inside an unidentified customer on Wednesday.

WHAT THE FUCK????  Sometimes you just have to step back, think about what the fuck you are about to do, maybe ask some opinions of others, and stop.  Just stop.  You are a giant fucking loser with no life, probably no girlfriend and apparently no standards. Good luck digging yourself out of the enormous hole you just put yourself in by getting a fucking tattoo like that.  Congratulations, you win the award for most pathetic person in the entire world...more pathetic than Charlie Sheen, more pathetic than the china man in the previous post, and more pathetic than Lindsay Lohan and Brittney Spears.  All in all, you blow more chunks than 17 year old bulimic hollywood stars.

If you find yourself trying to use "winning" in real life, just go cry yourself to sleep because you are lamer than the dudes that go tanning and wear Affliction.  

Charlie Sheen, you my friend can rock on.

China Men Are Strange!

And this is exactly why I think china men are so fucking strange!  I'm sure he's a real babe magnet over in whatever fucked up town he lives in.

Foot Fetishes= Straaaaaange.

I just don't get it nor will I ever want to understand what it is that draws people into foot fetishes.  Ew, mother fucker.  People's feet are disgusting.  A friend of mine went to a hair academy and had to learn a segment on pedicures, which led to countless stories about the horrors of people's feet.  There is just an entire array of things that can go wrong with your feet such as blisters, ingrown toenails, bunions, and I'll just stop there so I don't make you vom in your mouth.  I feel bad getting pedicures by licensed professionals simply doing their job and my feet are beautiful, obviously.  But for some people to suck on toes and shit, you my friend, need to quit it.  You're begging for a foreign disease and your morals are pretty jacked up if you want to put someone's smelly ass toes in your mouth.  People walk around all fucking day on those things, enveloped in socks and worn shoes that probably consumed sweat a time or two; OR even worse, they're walking around their house barefoot collecting dirt and dust and other gross particles along the way.  And people think it's okay to just let that shit marinade in their own mouth??? That, to me, is appalling.  Find a new fetish to get caught up in freaks, because I'm pretty sure I speak for a lot of people (females mainly) when I say if a guy tried to grab my foot and put that shit in his mouth I'd kick him straight in the shnoz and not think twice about it.  Then, I might even mortal combat kick his face so that he got the point.
While I'm at it, has anyone ever seen the show Strange Addictions?  Toilet paper eating?  Body building shemales? Glass swallowing?   Yea, I'd say you guys are pretty fucking strange too.  To tell me and all the other viewers that you eat half a roll of toilet paper a day because you like the way "it sort of melts in your mouth" is preposterous.  So does cotton candy, trick.  Everyone knows that so eat something that tastes good and melts in your mouth, for the love of God save us from cringing at you.  Toilet paper is for asses not for consumption. 
I tell you some humanbeings just gross me the fuck out.  Why they are putting these disgusting shenanigans on TV is beyond me but I get it that Americans love the shit out of taboo-ness.  Either way, I think they all need to find a new hobby.  Knitting is cool I guess, go knit a nice sweater.  But for fuck's sake keep the toes out of your grill it's just wrong. 

SF Is Way Strange

While adventuring to San Francisco we came across some super strange fucking people, places, foods and events.  Watch and be shocked.

So this occurred on valentines day.  Yes, I think its a dumb holiday, but hey for those in happy fucking relationships it works out pretty well.  Now for these poor souls who are clearly bitter and sexually frustrated, they choose to beat the shit out of each other with pillows.  This was, by far, the biggest pillow fight I have ever seen.  I was completely bewildered.  I mean they obviously don't have dates that night, and honestly I don't think rocking people with pillows is exactly the way to go to find a date.  Maybe a couple people found each other and hooked up out of pity for one other.  In that case, you go get you some, pity or not.  Sock on!

cigs were $7 there!

MTV is not only strange, it's whack.

Let's just start with the obvious. MTV= Music Television.  Thanks for all the music you fucking posers, last time I checked, playing 10 seconds of a song in between shows doesn't count.  I understand that reality shows have pretty much avalanched the mainstream popularity of television these days, but your name is Music fucking Television.  You're a liar MTV, you're blatantly shitting on everyone who looks to listen to some music on your channel.  I hope this little tid bit haunts your dreams.
Second of all, what is this shit they're playing instead of music?  I'll tell you exactly what it is in a nutshell.  A giant fucking clusterfuck of wasted fake italians who are too consumed in their chauchbag egos to catch a glimpse of reality, a bunch of trashy imbecile teenage girls making a mockery of motherhood, half reality shows where people are acting like they're on a reality show but they're not? (shut up Liz), fat people who get skinny, crazy fucking people forced to live in a house together who do nothing but party, fight and bang (thats not actually the REAL world!) a bunch of douchebags doing lame shit in a library that's not remotely humorous and trying to be quiet, some fucking low-life loser high schoolers who want to be "prom queen" but are actually just dykes starving for attention, a bizarre bunch of teenagers who all bone each other and smoke "skins", and all in all a big ball of horseshit.  Sorry I couldn't fit all of that ridiculous nonsense into a nutshell because the shell's nuts would be busted open with all of the irrelevance bombarding from its asscrack. 
And how exactly do they pick the dipshits who get to star in these crackpot tv shows and make millions?  MTV, you my friend are part of the reason there are so many fucking idiots in this world with little to no standards, and the reason teenagers go whoreing themselves around so maybe they can get a tiny bit of attention from some scumbag they find on the street.  I would love to know how a producer of any of these outlandish shows gets sleep at night.  Or does your lack of conscience tell you every thing all right? (all time low reference--if you don't know them you might if music was actually played!)
What the real issue here is that America is fixated on these tv shows to try to amend their tremendously boring lives by living vicariously through idiotic num-nuts who get paid to seemingly destroy morals.  Everything about this is wrong.  Fuck you Americans with nothing better to do! Go get a hobby that involves using your brain and shit instead of letting it whither inside of your skull. skull-brain.
What happened to TRL?  I definitely totally requested some shit and I was psyched when I saw it on my own television screen.  And what do you know?  It involved the playing of music! Real live performances and everything.  As far as I'm concerned that's what music television is all about, and it was still half-assing the entire idea of playing music on MTV.  The shows they are playing now are too mind-bogglingly demetented for me to come to terms with.  How they are still on air I will never understand nor will I ever know how someone can waste money on producing shows that are so fucking stupid.  Boycotting the entire channel altogether is the next step in my fury, or I very well may be driven to cancel my cable as a whole and live peacefully.
Thank God for the Discovery channel and Animal Planet otherwise I, without a doubt, would have lost my marbles by now.

First step of boycotting MTV is smoking cigs instead of watching tv.

Edumacation is Strange

College is supposed to be a bunch of worthless fucking classes where all we have to do is show up sometimes and do the homework, right?  That's what I thought.  Turns out my professors have a little different idea about things, unfortunately.

First off- Why must we introduce ourselves to the entire classroom and tell everyone our major. No one fucking cares, and I most likely will not speak a word to more than 3 of my classmates.  I don't give a flying fuck what the most interesting fact is about everyone.  We are all the same, no one is remotely interesting, and if by chance I have something interesting to say it probably is not classroom appropriate.  So teachers, for the love of god, stop making me stand up and ramble on about my insanely average self.  I hate, and so does everyone else fucking listening to me.  Unless you are a super conceited douche and think your the coolest mother fucker to roam the planet, you probably love the attenion..whore.

Second point- Everyone knows the first day of class you pick a seat, and you stay there.  Especially by the time you're in your fourth year of college.  You hopefully sit next to a cool dude and make friends to cheat off of.  But when you walk in to class, and your seat is taken, what the fuck?  All I want to say is, what the fuck bitch, get out of my seat you look like a pumpkin!  It's like an unwritten code, don't take my seat.  

Pop quizzes?  What am I 10 years old?  Just fucking tell me what to study so that I excel in your class instead of cursing your name under my breath every other day and counting down the days 'till I can blow you up on the teacher evaluation.  Trust me that I will write with every ounce of desperation in my body to whom ever may be listening that you fucking blow because you give pop quizzes and downright ruin my day.  Don't you hear the undertone of the class just fucking sigh when the words 'pop quiz' escape your mouth?  Get off your high horse with your little surprise quizzes, they make me want to vom all over the piece of paper and turn it into you.  

Another thing that really just irritates me is when a teacher decides they want me to "participate" and therefore calls on me when my hand is not even raised.  No, I don't want to answer the fucking question actually.  I am 21 years old, and for fucks sake I don't need you to make me participate when I don't want to.  Take points off my participation grade if you want, I couldn't care less.   

What's even worse is when they tell you to participate with OTHER PEOPLE.  In case you haven't noticed, I don't take class with all of my best friends because my major is pretty lame and only correlates to what I'm interested in.  Therefore,  I'd much rather sit here with a pisspants look on my face, and be as anti-social as humanly possible.  I'm not here to make friends people, I'm here to make you shut the fuck up about attending class and get these credits out of my hair so I can graduate and throw up a big middle finger to the entire ideal of education.  I go to school because it's what you're supposed to do in regards to what is socially acceptable, not because I actually like to learn.  Fuck learning.  I learned everything I need to know in high school-- drinking is cool and get good grades so your parents can't bitch at you for anything.  Reading and writing was out the door about ten years ago so college, you're pretty much a big fat waste of money.  Stop making me force myself to be nice to these people around me who probably don't want to waste their breath on me either.  It's irritating, and if only I withheld the precision to dart my pencil strait into the retina of your eye to suppress my anger, you better believe I would Professor whatever-the-fuck-your-name-is.  

Your class is the reason I'm frowned upon as the person who lights a cigarette as soon as I step foot out the door.  Yet, I have no shame.  

Babies Are Strange

In the spirit of Teen Mom's new season, and the fact that none of us are pregnant, we would like to celebrate the strangeness of babies.  These are some strange mother fucking tiny humans.  I mean lets just start with the very beginning.  One little micro spermy meets a hot mini egg, have a quick bone sesh and combine to make a breathing creature.  WHAT?  How does that even happen?  Not only does it continue to grow in a chicks belly, but it causes this chick to get huge and appear to be carrying a watermelon under her shirt 25/7.  When this creature decides it wants to see the light, it comes out of where the sun don't shine, and says to the world "I'm heeeeere" by screaming and crying in the most obnoxious manner.  I mean, why don't babies come out laughing and giggling, because that's the reason we really love them anyways, right?  And then to make it happy, we feed it some shit from a bottle, and it already knows how to swallow it.  If you think about it, babies are fucking geniuses.  How do they know how to cry, laugh, eat, and flail around when they are just born?  Strange!
Ah yes, but it doesn't stop there my friends, no sirree. They enter the world in a wild fashion and then continue to stroll around the world in a stroller, which is fucking awesome, and just... observe. All they do is look around and see everything because when you're a baby you're allowed to have a staring problem.  They probably have so many thoughts dancing around in their little bald heads but they have no way of expressing them.  Then, they mature a little and start blurring one big blob of a word, although it is incomprehensible, as if to tell you something.  But what do you think they're trying to say, and more importantly, what do THEY think they're saying?  It's like one fatass ball of confusion and mystery because no one will ever know.  Out of nowhere, they start saying actual words and walking?  Like how in the fuck do they know what they're doing and how do they know it's socially acceptable?  Their brains don't actually know shit at this point, so how do they just automatically start doing what they're supposed to? This is absolutely mind-boggling.
Now, because we are all humans and have a heart beat, babies can make us light up as soon as we hear them giggle or do some other ridiculously cute thing.  If you have some extra time, and a baby to hang out with, just sit in a room with it and watch as every single person that walks in the room immediately says "awweee how cute! hi little babyyy hiii!"  The grumpiest person can see a happy baby, and all the sudden their problems disappear.  This is all good and well, but the issue I have is why do we constantly talk to babies when we know they can't talk back yet?  I see it everywhere I go.  "Aw little joey do you like your toy?  Is that mushy green stuff good? Yummm, do you want more? Say hi to Elmo!"  Bitch, you know your two month old can not understand the words coming out of your mouth, let alone has the intelligence to actually answer you in English.  I promise you, that baby will not answer, no matter how many times you ask him if he wants his blanky.
All in all, babies are some strange, yet interesting, little miracles that are pretty fantastic as long as they aren't mine ya dig?  Cig time because I still cannn!

Strange Seasonal Depresh.

Have you ever noticed how once all of the leaves have fallen from the trees and that cruel coldness sets in, the overall mood of everyone just.. changes?  Your tan has faded, leaving your skin with a sad, pastey hue unless you're a lucky SOB who has some beautiful ethnic DNA in their gene pool and is blessed with never-ending golden skin-- I say to you, I envy you, but go fuck yourself.  Mother Nature turns into a fugly biotch considering everything is brown and dead.  The snow is pretty but it's also fucking freezing and unless you're someone with an undying love for snow sports (aka you're actually good at them) the snow is just another reason to get pissed off.  Everyone drives like they've either got their temps or they're 99 years old, and inevitably fuck up their cars.  Plans get messed up because everyone in town is flipping their shit about the snow and blowing the entire situation out of proportion by viscously rading the grocery stores and staying imprisoned in their homes.  This, my friends, is seasonal affective disorder, which abbreviated (thank you Dr. Vollman) is SAD.  Point. Proven.

Take notice next time you courageously escape the boundaries of your home every person's face that you pass.  It portrays nothing but pure and utter misery.  Either that, or you don't actually see their face because it's hidden behind layers of clothing to suppress the arctic wind.  It's true.  Every day I can't help but notice behind tear-filled eyes, due to the sting of the wind, the hatred and/or sadness on everyone's face on campus.    And whether you're willing to admit it or not, you sometimes find yourself saying "Oh my GOD!" out loud at how terribly cold it is, and then proceeding to curse the weather inside your head, throwing in a few "fuck this"'s here and there.  No matter how melodramatic it seems, I often find myself wanting to just give up on life.  To simply stop in my tracks, collapse on the ground and just let the good Lord take me because I cannot go on with the coldness any longer.  When the wind is smacking you in the face repeatedly on your nice little stroll, the thought enters my mind no matter what.  It may only las a few seconds, but it never fails to cross my mind.  Then, you kind of realize you're being a pussy and you probably undressed, and gloriously keep on truckin'.

The sad part is, you can't even really call it glorious upon arriving to your destination because once you get there you're still not happy.  It's not like instant happiness overtakes your body and soul, no.  You still waltz in, throw your shit down, and immediately start complaining to whoever will listen about how angry the weather just made you and how fucking cold it is outside.  It never fails, seasonal depression is everywhere and in everybody whether you decide to advertise it or not.  I mean think about it.  You wake up in the morning, you already know it's cold out so you don't have a beautiful day to look forward to.  If Mr. Sunshine ever decides to make an appearance, which is rare, that's pretty cool but can sometimes be misleading.  You almost get mad at the sun too.  Yea, you're brightening my life right now but you're not making me any fucking warmer.  You're just reminding me that summer is still half a year away and you just popped in to say hi and then disappear for another month or two so fuck you sun!  There's no animals outside besides birds, but of course they're not even singing because they're too cold.  The squirrels hardly even come out!  Your house is probably still pretty cold because no one feels like paying an assload of money on their heating bill.  People get fatter because they don't do anything besides bitch and eat.

It just strikes me as such an odd phenomenon.  For a straight 3, give or take, months everyone in cold atmospheres are, for the most part, miserable.  I'm pretty sure a lot of people agree with me that the only great thing about winter is you can get out of a lot of obligations because of snow.  You can blame a lot of shit on snow and people just don't ask questions, they just accept it.  Other than that, whether this is horrible or not, I'm on team Global Warming all the way.  I like warm, warm everything.  Next time you want to complain in the summer about it being too hot, think about this day.  Think about how much you despise everything right now, and then expect to be socked square in the face.. by me.

Until beautiful spring time rolls around, feel free to bitch up a storm you seasonal depressed mother fuckers, because you know everybody else is.  Ain't no shame in it anymore.  Until then, cig time-- out the window of course.

Lingerers Are Weird

Lingerers: Those silly mother fuckers that feel the need to stick around someone else's house, when they're clearly unaware of the fact that the residents of the household don't actually want you there longer than necessary.  That's my definition, so if you don't like it then suck a fatty.  If you have to think to yourself, I wonder if these people care that I'm at their house, the answer is yes.  They care and they're probably wondering why the fuck you are still sitting there, but take note, they will never say anything out of the sake of being polite.  However, if you feel this way, take this simple advice: Get up and go the fuck home.

Before you get your panties in a bunch, let me elaborate.  We love having guests.  We're a college house comprised of social butterflies, so come on over whenever it is that you'd like, let's hang out and stuff.  However, if we make an executive decision to watch a chick flick on a hungover afternoon, and you want to sit in the same room and rip on everything that seems remotely ridiculous in every scene.  Get out, your opinion sucks and I hate you.  If you bummed one of my final few cigs the night before, and your still at my house in the morning, don't you DARE ask to bum another cig from me.  I probably gave you one last night to get you to shut the fuck up, however this morning I am in an extremely different mood.  I obviously need the cigs I have left, seeing as I am not in any shape to go to the store to get more.  You can linger while we smoke the morning cig, as long as you have your own.  But then it's time to go.

Now I am sure plenty of you have had unexpected guests come home after a night that was creepy and weird, and in the morning you have that feeling in your stomach that tells you that the day will be consisting of hanging out over the porcelain gods.  If that isn't bad enough, you then realize your terrible mistake from the night before is still, for some un-fucking-known reason, in your bed.  This is when the trouble really starts.  You think, maybe if I leave the room and make some noise they will wake up and leave, so you bang in to everything you see on your way out.  You mosey around the house to find who else is up, and who else is trying to get someone out of their bed.  After some time goes by and you notice that no one has left the house yet, you back in there.  All you want to do right now is dump water on this creep's head and get him/her the fuck out of there.  But because you're being the considerate one, you wait a little longer.  For those of you who are slightly embarrassed right now because you're remembering a time when you stayed a little too long,  you should be.  Get the fuck out of my bed, my room, my house and my life.  The only exception is if I actually like you.  Then stick around, duh!

The moral of the story is, you will know if you are wanted around.  Most of the time we whine like small children if you are trying to leave and we want you to stay, sometimes even cry (cough, you know who you are).  If you're unsure, exit immediately.  Smoke your cigs once you walk out the door, we'll wave from the balcony.

Strangely Phenomenal Sunday

As we go back and ponder over what today has entailed, we cannot fathom being more content with the way things played out.  It was not only the strangest Sunday I've yet to experience, but it was hands down one of the most fun and memorable days to date.  I sit here with a smug smile on my face as the day comes to a close.  Let me break it down for you.

We woke up abnormally early this morning with plans of going to the Bengals game.  Usually our Sundays consist of waking up whenever that may be, while Vanstar departs for work around noon or really any time remotely close to that because, essentially, Pops is her bitch along with the entire facility of Good Fellows.  Once we awake, we decide to ease our hangover with pepperoni baseballs and cheese fries, and once this is done we lounge and partake in other bum-tastic activities.  However, today we got up around 10:00 AM and got ready for the Bengals game and went downtown to our friend's older sister's tight ass apartment.  For lack of better words, "tight ass" is really the only way to describe this place because it's exactly what it was.  There was free beer, skyline dip, along with a huge window that opens up to a balcony overlooking downtown Cincinnati, and is only about a hop, skip and a jump away from Paul Brown Stadium.  We drank as we pleased, had Alli uphold her side of the bet for passing out first at our latest party which involved taking a buttery-nipple shot Vanstar snagged for free at a random gas station (what?), and soaked up feeling like celebrities for a little while until we left for the game.

Our seats were conveniently placed right in front of these fantastic old men, who happened to be just as perverted as we are, and had a never ending supply of hand-warmers that they were constantly pulling out of their ass to give to us because I guess we looked slightly pathetic.  Whatever, they were awesome, pouring flasks into their pop bottles and everything, aka our lives in 30 years.  The strangest aspect, however, of the Bengals game was that they won beating the browns 19-17, which shouldn't be as surprising as it is, but anyone can beat the shitty Bengals these days.  So we were pretty hyped about that, obviously justifying their win with our presence at the stadium as good luck charms.  Obviously.  It's really strange how we bitched about buying beers for $7.25, while still continuing to do so hoping that the old men would buy them for us. Never happened.  Hell of a run, money, see ya later!

After the game, we dropped off our friends Alli and Eric, while honking this really funny-sounding horn for a little, all the while pissing our pants at the sound until we snapped out of it. A few of us went straight to Good Fellows considering we were starving from lack of food, and got free beers. Score! Next thing we know, we're hanging out in the back of the kitchen by the fryers with our Canadian friend, Johnny, who let us partake in Canadian activities with him resulting in uncontrollable giggles.  Once we finally exited the secret kitchen party, it suddenly dawned upon us that we needed to get out of there asap.  We were in no shape or form to be in public any longer, and it was time to go.  However, we did make a pit-stop at Kroghetto for Zanzabar to pick up $9.00 cookies for her work party, but we couldn't go in at all until we chilled out and let the giggles reside.  You would've thought it was our first rodeo at this point.  It was kind of sick how much fun we were having as just the three of us.  Slightly embarrassing, yet I have no shame.

Once we finally reached our house and final destination, our minds were a little blown and slightly confused from all of the activities we had just taken part in, and we said no words.  Instead, we sat here in silence until we all drifted off into naps, inevitably watching the same exact shows over and over.  Again, next thing I know, I'm waking up at the same time as Vanstar and Annie is returning from her work party even more trashed than before.  We concluded our day with a midnight dinner from Taco Bell, and with big plans of being strange money-makahs come tomorrow.  If that's not outstanding, I don't know what is.  Be jealous, large audience, be really fucking jealous.
Ciiiiiig and goodnight!

Good Fellows Is Strange

Working at an ever classy establishment on short vine, (For those of you who aren't familiar with short vine)  I witness a lot of crazy shit every time I work.  Now keep in mind I am a 21 year old white girl, and the bar I work at is majority black.  No big deal, I have been working there for a year so obviously I can manage.
So basically 86% of the customers are regulars, which means I know almost everyone that lives on or around short vine because they love mother fucking good fellows, it's their shit.  You can imagine when I first started working there, being a young white girl, people tried to fuck with me.  Okay, first of all I'm not fucking scared of you.  Yes, you may be an older black man with tattoos all over, but your not fucking scary, and if you were I would not be working here.  Quit fucking with me.  It's not funny--your not scary--and I know your trying to be funny.  Oooh cool you can fuck with a young white girl to try to impress your friends, real fucking classy.  This one man, probably around 43 (will remain nameless) has 2 tear drop tattoos, among others.  Mister, why are you crying? Are you sad? So to make a long story short, one fine evening after a number of tangs and brews, he tells me he as seen me in winton terrace.  Uhhhhhh great ya fucking creep now I can never go to the hausfelds house again!  This other clown is such an arrogant ass hole and feels the need to ask why I have an attitude.  Bitch, you are the reason I have an attitude.  I can't fucking stand you, and you know it.  Also you have no two front teeth!  This is not a joke people, he does not have his front teeth, and for some un-fucking-known reason he thinks he is a pimp.  No.  And I can't leave out the dick who, when I went around picking up empty glasses said "hey, I don't like white people touching my drinks"  The bartender was white, so really you have fucking issues.  And the glass is empty, so I know your fucking with me.  I would also appreciate it if you would not call me things such as "miss lady, mama, baby, hey you, sa-vaughn-uh" Thanks.  Now don't get me wrong, there are a lot of people that are super sweet who I love seeing every sunday.  Especially the ones who are nice AND tip well.  They are awesome and actually really really funny.  Your the best!
I work with some really cool black girls (I am the only white one), and there are a lot of cool regulars I know, but seriously there are some fucking caddy bitches that come to the GFels.  I am not your bitch.  I mean I kind of am because I have to clean up after your grimy ass, but you do not have to take advantage of the fact that I'm your bitch.  Clean up your shit.  There are garbage cans for a reason you cunt.  And if you are over 200 pounds, do not wear your fucking stilettos into this establishment.  Somewhat because it looks super fucking strange, but mostly because you literally make dents in the hard wood floor, which is why it looks like shit.  If your skinny and looking fabulous, you go ahead and do your thing girl, but if not save yourself the embarrassment and wear flat shoes and clothes that cover your cottage cheese.  And speaking of cottage cheese, this one night a 50 year old, 50 wearing velour short ass shorts and a tank top clearly displaying her sagging tits, thinks it is a good idea to dance on top of the bar.  As you can imagine, this sight disgusted me.  Her entire body was literally flopping around like a tub of jello--a big tub.  While this is going on, it for some reason encourages other younger girls to get on the bar to prove they were better dancers...it was a complete disaster.  Meanwhile, the bartender is wasted and instigating the situation, and the man with no 2 front teeth gave these 10 year olds (why they were in a bar at midnight with their wasted parents is beyond me) dollar bills to throw at the whores.  Two people fell off the bar that night, one being the jiggly old lady, which was definitely my fault she fell off, but that story's for another time and place.  And that is when I decided to never again work a friday or saturday night.  Okay, enough about whores.  You get the point, my job is fucking nuts every single day.  There are plenty of perks which I don't think should be discussed at this moment, but basically what I'm saying is I have a love/hate relationship with good fellows.  One perk being that every sunday I can count on gip and annie to come eat and hang out for a little, so now they are regs too.  And it is always a surprise when they bring a different person to join in the festivities and introduce to a whole new world, a dazzling place they never knew.  So if your looking for new horizons to pursue, take a gander over to short vine and stop in good fellows to holla at ya girl. (make sure it's a sunday)

Now to step in to the freezing cold winter wonderland...BOO WINTER.

Strange Christmas!

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THE ROHS HOES!

Facebook Statuses Are Strange

We all update our facebook status frequently, or at least log on to facebook once in a while to read the pointless shit people post on there.  And we all know the giggly feeling we get inside when we log on and see at least 4 people have "liked" our status, or even commented! Well hey there ms. popular!
There are those certain occasions, however when some douche completely ruins the mood with a gay fucking status.  And I don't mean gay as in homosexual (well sometimes), I mean just flat out dumb.  Like for those of you who feel the need to tell me exactly what you are doing that day and the next, and the next, fuck you.  I don't give a what what!  That's what away messages were for,  not facebook.  If you have to work, COOL. So do I.  And why do you think I want to know that you are going to the mall, picking up your sister and writing a paper later?  What, do you want me to meet you at the mall?  Or do you just want people to know that you actually do other things besides sit at your computer and update facebook.
I would like to take this time to thank all of you girls that do have boyfriends, for taking the time out of your day to try to rub it in my face.  I am fully aware I am single and god dammit I enjoy it.  You are not the only girl in the entire fucking  world that thinks your boyfriend is the best.  And I promise you, he is not  the best.  Maybe you think he is but the rest of the world does not.  By all means, if you love your boyfriend and you think he is a fucking god, you go ahead and be happy.  But please leave facebook out of it.  How about instead of preaching about how fucking sweet he is you go enjoy that bastards company and see a movie or bone or something. For the love of god, just stop burning my eyes with your sappy statuses before I gouge them out in your honor.
Further, please stop complaining to the world about how shitty your life is.  If you're hung up over a guy and you want to tell all of the Facebook nation how much you hate your life and hate guys (or girls for all of you pussies out there), here's a big fucking whoopty-doo for your lame ass.  We really, REALLY, do not care.  If you haven't noticed, which I simply can't believe, you're making yourself look completely and utterly pathetic.  Like are you seriously that depressed that some guy played the fuck out of you? If so, why? Think about it, you naive little pansy.  Not to mention, you're all blatant attention whores.  I can't stand I see a status that reads, "Fuck this. I hate my life so much just don't care anymore!!!!! >:(", at which all of your kiss ass friends reply, "OMG babe what happened?!?!?!?" and then you write back "Text me...." Seriously, if you're going to be all pisspants and make a status begging for attention from others, the least you can do is let everyone in on what you're upset about.  You know what I like to call that? Fucking idiotic.  You're leaving all of us attentive followers of your invigorating status updates in the dust, and we are upset because of it. Sike.  Get a life and get a backbone, you look fucking stupid.
If you find yourself shaking your head in disagreement, it is probably because you actually do these things and are mad we called you out on it.  If you agree with us completely, kudos to you!  You may or may not be a tool. Plus we're always right so it is probably to your benefit to agree with us.  Go ahead and post your new facebook status, but for the sake of my sanity please at least make it worthwhile.  Throw a little joke in there or something, make it juicy.  And for pete's sake, lay off the hearts! <3 they fucking suck and are close to being the cheesiest thing on facebook.
BYE you HELLO porch.

People with Fanny Packs are Strange

Why do people that continue to wear fanny packs think they are so goddamn funny? There's not too much I can elaborate on for this topic because it's just stupid.  Assholes, fanny packs were cool in the 80s and that's it.  The fact that you're still wearing them out and taking pictures of yourselves wearing them with a big two thumbs up thinking that you're funny makes me wanna back hand you.  It's not funny and it never has been.  It was a fad in the 80s, aka stop fucking wearing them.  If you're being an 80s person for Halloween, go the fuck ahead and wear one then, whatever.  But for the love of god, don't go around on some ego trip thinking that you're humoring everyone with your fanny pack because you're not.  For your own sake, I'm telling you this from the bottom of my heart, you look like a chauch.  People aren't laughing with you, they are laughing AT you, plain and simple.  And don't give some excuse like, "But it helps me not lose all my shitttt.." hello? Did you forget about pockets? Purses perhaps?  These little gadgets were made solely for you to carry your shit in and not lose it.  If you have holes in your pockets and you lose your purse, then that's your own damn fault.  But do not give credit to a fucking fanny pack because in no way, shape or form does it justify anything.  I hate fanny packs and I hate all of you.  It takes everything inside of me to not rip that thing off of you and drop kick it into the abyss while muttering the words "fuck you" while this is taking place.  I may seem angry, but I'm just merely annoyed.  I know what funny is, but apparently you don't because fanny packs do not have a designated spot in this category.  Sorry if I burst your bubble, that's life.
On a brighter note, Happy Birthday Zannzabar!
Squirrel time!

Squirrels are Ridiculous

While sitting on our back balcony as frequently as we do, inevitably we witness the outrageous zoo life that gathers in our backyard.  And no, we are not talking about Canadians and jungle fever, we actually are talking about real live animals.  You know, birds, lizards (what the fuck, lizards in Clifton?), raccoons, your occasional nasty ass opossum that creeps across the wall unless we mack it with a bottle and it plays dead, yes, this happens a lot more frequently than you'd imagine.  But the majority of the time, we spend our balcony breaks watching squirrels in amazement.  Squirrels galore I tell you! They are so fucking strange.

The things that they do are just outrageous.  We've witnessed squirrels spying on other squirrels while peeking over the fence, we took a picture it was awesome.  Sometimes, they get so close to us that we don't know whether to sit and admire, or run for our fucking lives.  They'll climb branches and get to the point that they're literally about 3 feet away from us eating their little apples, but you don't know what a squirrel is going to do next do you?  They stare at you directly in your eyes, and I mean, you don't know whether it's a good stare or I'm about to pounce on your ass stare.  Squirrels are nuts, no pun intended.  Most of the time we just stay seated and silently freak out until it runs away, but what the fuck?  Back up squirrel, you're getting way too close to my grill and it's not okay.

Lately, they like to go through our trash when they think they can get away with it, little grimy bastards.  Yet, somehow someone always ends up abruptly walking out the door to catch them at which point they jump off the trash can, stop directly in front of you debating which way to run, and then book it.  Squirrels, our trash is not your buffet, your dragging trash all around our yard and you're sick fucks anyways for trying to eat garbage. Go get a nut or something.

But when you really think about it, have you ever seen a squirrel walk?  Like simply stroll along?  Usually they're frantically running around jumping from branch to branch and shit because they're squirrels and can do whatever the fuck they want ( which is awesome in my opinion), but guess what?  I saw a squirrel WALK.  Most bizarre thing I've ever witnessed.  It didn't look right, I second guessed my sanity for a minute.

One day as we were sitting outside, we heard this absurd, high pitched noise.  Now, I don't know if you have ever heard this and just ignored it, or if you were as bewildered as me when you realized thats how squirrels fucking communicate.  They sound like a hybrid between a dolphin and a bird.  Absolutely ridiculous.  And then I'm looking around trying to spot the creature chatting away and it appears as though this punk ass squirrel is looking right at me from his little tree branch, ready to launch a chestnut at me.  Excuse me bitch, you are in my backyard, so check yourself and scram kid.

While pondering the life of a squirrel just 5 minutes ago,  I thought "hey, how do they know who their family is?  Do they hang out with the same friends all the time?  I wonder if they have little squirrel parties.  BYON"  I mean they are like asians, they all look the same.  How do they tell who is who?  I suppose we'll never know the answer to these questions, and I am sure there are scientific theories, but those really mean nothing to me.  I think I'll wait to ask a squirrel myself next time one is chilling in the garbage can.  Keep up the good work you strange little barbarians, you're blowing our minds. Time to go watch some more squirrels if ya know what I mean.