i like tarzan

so, in order to commemorate my return back to internet civilization, i'm writing a post about a person who was so far from civilization that he lived in the jungle with beasties and didn't shower and carried a panther around on his shoulders. isn't irony great?

all joking aside, i love tarzan. DON'T LAUGH THIS IS SERIOUS.

since the age of hhmmphshmph, i've been kind of weirdly, morbidly fascinated with the outdoors and like, being forced to live there and fend for yourself against the elements. you'd never guess it by my ghostly pale skin tone, but i've always considered myself a tad resourceful, and i would like to think i could possibly survive for like, maybe a couple of days if, say, my plane crashed in alaska and i was forced to make a hatchet and then befriend a pack of wolves and hunt caribou.

visual references/my childhood dream scenarios

but let's face it, we're all grown-ups, and unless i was being filmed for a reality tv show and was able to sleep in a hotel bed every night, i would die on the first night of survival. probably from typhoid or dysentery, one of those diseases that always fucked up your wagon party in oregon trail.

so, in this day and age, who can save us from our digital cages and return us to the great jungle of life? TARZAN. TARZAN CAN. HE CAAAAAAN.

tarzan is the ultimate male for every animal-loving, sun-shunning introverted adolescent girl that grew up. he's raw, he's potent, he's sensitive, he's attuned to nature.. he just gets it, man. he's the kind of guy who will show you how to break the neck of jungle bunnies in order to minimize their pain, but then when you're standing there in shock with rabbit blood on your hands all fatal attraction-like, he'll sweep away the canopy curtains to reveal a pristine waterfall and you'll forget all about how you've had way too many bananas lately and a weird chimpanzee keeps following you around and where are we and how exactly did i get here?

yeah.

needless to say, tarzan is one complicated dude. he's got a whole lot of history and lots of movies have been written about him but it's late and this is starting to sound a little crazy, so maybe we should just watch a little video instead. phil collins wrote the soundtrack to the disney tarzan movie, and you know if PHIL COLLINS writes a soundtrack, it means that phil collins has written a soundtrack (also, it's pritty pritty good).

so, to summarize: no shirt + no shoes + no social skills + no civilization = super.

I Like This Useless Little Button

Hello again! Gather around friends, for I have a story to tell...

...Once upon a time there was a little boy, or perhaps in this story he was a somewhat older. Maybe he was around his early twenty's, handsome, broad shoulders, well defined jawline. Well, sorry to disappoint ladies. This story is not about that young man. It's actually about me, and here's how it goes:

Once upon a time, I began volunteering at a hospital. At first this hospital seemed just like any other hospital. It had doctors in white coats, and nurses in scrubs with large pockets to hold all their important stuff. The hospital, like all well run hospitals, was always well stocked with patients. On Friday this particular hospital would give out ice-creams to its employees. Everything seemed perfectly normal. There was nothing strange at all about the hospital with its doctors in white coats and nurses with large pockets.
Then one day, I happened upon an anomalously object in this perfect world. It was a discovery so remarkable that to this day I have yet to come to terms with its magnitude. (Its magnitude to be exact was about 3 inches by 5 inches). I managed to capture it on camera for the first time. I will share this first encounter with you now.
Yes! While it may look like a door, with a sign, and a nice placard announcing which floor you are on adjacent to the door, allow me to guide your eyes to the subject of this post:

This is it! An innocuous little button that cries out to the world, "Please kindly sir or madam, please push my button, that nicely illuminated for you." I anthropomorphize so because this little button responds to the brief pressure placed on it with an almost human expression of satisfaction.


"And what does my little button friend do," I asked, "aside from this modest expression of red to green."

"And what does this little button do," I hear your brain quietly echo.


Absolutely nothing! (Trust me I checked), and that's exactly why I like this useless button

i like badasses

okay guys, back in the saddle. i apologize for my absence (i know you missed me, internet. i missed you too), and would like to blame college, killer of dreams/builder of lives/madhouse/henhouse/funhouse/hauntedhouse/outhouse/ (WOAH, sorry about that), but today's post is not going to be very long, mostly because it speaks for itself and in fact, would rather you just SHUT THE FUCK UP. and also, i have a government test tomorrow and should have read about 50 pages by about five minutes ago. ha, whoops.

sorry little gremlies, i didn't mean to drop the f-word this early in the evening, but i think it fits, because i'm talking about BADASSES, y'all. i like 'em. everybody likes 'em. they're neat, they're mean, they're green, and they make everybody have a little tingle of jealousy inside their heart of hearts (slash pants). and that's healthy, jealousy.. right?

the badass is nothing new to society. badasses have been around for as long as i can remember and then probably a little bit longer, and they come in all shapes and forms. i'm here to elucidate some of the more common badasses seen in society, and perhaps introduce you to the more unknown, hidden treasure trove badasses. come away with me.

this is your standard badass. revered by ladies and worshipped by fellas. he's shirtless and slightly scrawny, yes, but what he lacks in brute muscle, he makes up for in sheer at-ti-tude. look at that scarf! he's a-okay with his sexuality, and asks you, DARES YOU to question it. the ladies in the back did, and look how they ended up. SHIRTLESS and HAPPY (i guess the dudes did too? ... awkward).

see, this is where we start getting into new territory. everybody knows bill cosby as the kind-hearted, sweater wearing, pudding eating guy, but did you know that he's actually a stone cold killer? well, not really a killer (hopefully), but check out that cigar. that ain't your granddaddy's cigar (unless it is, cosby kin). and look at that look. that is the look of a man with a plan. he knows where's going in life. or went, maybe. is. he knows where he is. i like this because it's different. it's suprising. we all know bill cosby the lovable man, but were we ever aware of how genuinely cool this cat can be? we are now.

this picture is just following the train all the way to the (sesame street) station. as a child, never did i ever consider the possibility that big bird was not my friend, but in fact a winged freak in possession of a serious problem with library etiquette. (p.s. saigon market? we are we?)

i think i like this guy top-three-ish, because he's badass for all the wrong/right reasons. what makes him badass is not the studded jacket or the scuffed boots or the skyscraper hairstyle, but the look of sheer laughter/appreciation/enjoyment at the little boy's curiosity. he seems sweet, and that's one of the most badass things of all: a good heart.

enough with the sentiment. WOLVES, Y'ALL. wolves are 1) the most badass of all animals and 2) i want to be one. maybe. probably not. but the fact remains that whether they're eatin' little peters (like, peter and the wolf. don't be gross), living with little julies, or swallowing little red riding hoods, wolves are on top. unless you're sarah palin.

i wanted to include this picture to show that the term badass is not solely limited to those blessed with the y chromosome.. heh. rather, female badasses come from some of the most interesting places, showing us a face full of makeup and a beautiful traditional garment does not a pushover make. also, she's flipping us the bird. that's just classic.

so, i guess what i'm saying is, if you ever want to become the ultimate badass, or maybe just pretend to be one for a day, be bill cosby, or a wolf, or a geisha. i'll like you.

i like my dog

okay guys, disclaimer time: this post is entirely about how amazing my dog is. i know it's going to come off as a psycho, dog-pictures-in-my-wallet-look-here's-her-yesterday-and-this-is-her-with-santa kinda post, so i completely understand if you just want to skip to the end or maybe not even read this at all. but you should. because i'll like you more if you do (and then we can TALK ABOUT HER TOGETHERRRRR!).

SO, i just got a dog on monday. last monday. she's a little pound puppy, and she's SO SO SO SO SWEET/cute. her name is peca. originally, i was going to go with pica, but about 50% of the people would look at me with disgust/confusion when i explained to them what pica the medical disorder was.

this is pica.

so, in order not to saddle her up with a stigma for the rest of her doggy days, i switched it to peca, which means "freckle" in spanish (p.s., thanks middle school friend stephanie whose dog was named that and from whom maybe i borrowed it).

but see, i'm finding out more and more that "peca" also means "oh my god why are you so adorable you're putting me into a diabetic coma come sit in my lap right now." reasons?:

1) she's a cattle dog/whippet mix. that means she's super fast and super smart, kind of like flash gordon (or speed gordon, for all y'all down under). the dwight from the office inside of me finds those two reasons to be important, just in case.. i don't know, we needed the dog version of a super fast yale graduate for some reason.

relevant? not really. incredible? of course.

2) she's really sweet. honestly, she's the sweetest dog around. when i first walked into her little kennel thing, she basically just immediately rolled over and looked up at me with these eyes that said "love me plzzz." even after i took her home, she didn't pull a jekyll/hyde thing and turn into a monster, which would have been cool, but not really what i was looking for. she has this way of just plopping down next to you and putting her head in your lap and slowly closing her eyes as you scratch her ears. etc., etc., etc.

3) um... she's really cute, too? did i mention that?

seeee? uhhhdorable.

4) okay, i'm kind of having a hard time coming up with more reasons, but COME ON i've had her for about a week. give it time, y'all. i mean, christmas isn't even here yet. i'm sure i'll come up with fifteen different reasons then, all involving the probably cute way she opened up her first presents, or tore down the christmas tree.. or maybe in easter, when she ripped the ears off of the bunny costume i'm going to get her..

in closing, my dog > your dog, and i love her.

I LOVE YOU PECAAAAAA.

I like Hummus.

Before I go deeper into this magical dish that I like, I would like to admit to the world that I used to hate hummus.

I know.

I thought the consistency was weird, sometimes there would be chunks…it just didn't do it for me.

And then one night, a friend made hummus and brought it to a dinner.

While everyone was cooking and being productive, I sat at the bar and productively ate half of the hummus myself. An obsession had begun.

After that, I went through 1 container a week for about a month and a half. The pita bread I had was shitastic, but I didn't even give a damn. BECAUSE THE HUMMUS WAS AMAZING. With every bite, it was like experiencing my first hummus revelation. It is still like that, praise bb jesus.

"I fucking love this shit." - Jesus

Let's talk about types. For me, there is only one, and it is called Roasted Garlic. The brand is not too big of a deal to me, as long as there is roasted garlic all up in it.

There are two brands that I switch between: Sabras & Athenos.

In terms of their personality, Sabras is a creamy, nice and simple hummus. He's like the nice friend you have, who's just so nice all the time. Reliable and what not. However, sometimes he just gets…boring, and you want to hang out with that ridiculous friend of yours that you haven't seen in a while.

This is where Athenos, the unpredictable comes in. First of all, he's a completely different color. A yellowish green. Also, he has these little pieces of something fabulous hanging out around in him. I don't know what they are, but they intrigue me and I love it. The flavor is very different from Sabros, and it's exciting. When you eat Athenos, it's like riding a fucking brilliant rollercoaster with a blindfold on. Fantastic little surprises of taste variation.

Cool story, bros: Morgan Elizabeth Cotter once ate half of my container in the middle of the week, and I cursed the hummus gods for letting such a terrible thing happen to me. Rationing is essential for such liquid/solid gold.

How I felt, but more sad.

That's all I really have to say about hummus. I think I am going to buy some right now. My mom just gave me a huge bag of pita chips, and I need something to smother them in.

i like HOUSES (part II)

guys, i don't even CARE what you think anymore. i don't even care what ANYONE THINKS anymore. THE ONLY THING I CARE ABOUT ARE HOUSES. AHHHHHHHHHHHere are some more.

oh my god you guys my friend is going to italy, and when he told me that the first thing i thought of was how much i loved the hotel we stayed in when we went there, and how much this picture reminds me of it. it was completely luxurious and is probably definitely one of the main reasons i will/want to go back to rome. look at those curtains. THOSE ARE FESTOON CURTAINS.

so another deal i have is this thing with water environments. it could be because i'm a cancer, but i don't even care what it's due to, just so long as i have water around me somehow. if i had this room, or visited it, or just was in the general vicinity of it, i would literally cry tears of joy and then get naked and pretend to be a mermaid.

on the opposite side of the scenery spectrum we have this little woodsy-lookin' place. i like it. honestly, i probably couldn't spend a lot of time in it without getting a little bit claustrophobic, but for those days where you just want to curl up in a ball and hibernate, this setting seems perfect.

this is just plain ridiculous and for that reason absolutely perfect. one of the comments below the link suggested it would be even more beautifully superfluous as a bathtub, and i agree.


one of the things i've recently come across (but seems not to be an incredibly new event) is the idea of a conversation pit. i think if done correctly, it could be like the terrestrial version of a hot tub mixed with a kiddie playpen, but without the threat of soiled pants and wrinkled fingers (sshh, that makes sense).

okay, this is walking the line between "creatively/spiritually scattered" and "straight-up voodoo", but i think if you don't look at it too hard, it's a kind of simplistically majestic. i'd halfway expect fairies to pop out around the witching hour, or whatever. whatever.

this is amazing. my grandparents had an earth-shelter house, and i could never get over the fact that it was possible to run up on their roof. this is like that times a million beautiful things.

i don't even know what to say about this picture, except that i am now rearranging my room to resemble it exactly. and that it makes my insides smile. and that
it will be mine. somehow.

okay, that's enough for now. time to go explore MORE HOUSES MORE HOUSES MORE HOUSES.

i like kids with animals

so, i'm subscribed to this indie radio station's podcast, and all the way from seattle they ship to me in the mail a file that dissolves in my mailbox and is directly uploaded onto my itunes (that's how a podcast works, right?). the files are indie songs that haven't hit the main airways yet, and probably never will, and they send me some good ones usually. their podcast where i first heard of passion pit and the band citay (sit-ay? sigh-tay?), both prime examples of the silly names little indie boys like to name their groups (other examples: starfucker? how absurd! natalie portman's shaved head? what a mouthful!). anyway, there's this band called dan le sac vs. scroobius pip, and they have this song called "thou shalt always kill". it's a pretty funny song, the kind said silly little indie boys like to quote to each other while combing their mustaches in front of their cleverly-stenciled mirrors, and one of the lyrics in the song is "thou shalt not think any male over the age of 30 who plays with a child that is not their own is a pedophile. some people are just nice."

god, ANYWAY, the point of that ridiculous segue is that i identify with that statement. not because i am a male over the age of 35, but because i too like to play with children that are not my own. actually, not so much play with them.. more like just look at them. but see the thing is, i'm not a pedophile! i just think kids are really adorable, and i kind of want one. like, to own. even more adorable that genetically beautiful children are genetically beautiful children with animals! and here are some pictures to prove my point (real creepsters, go away):

okay, so, this probably isn't the best example to start off on, but i think it still counts, because someone probably thought this was adorable in like, the ancient tang dynasty.

this is better. i predict that that boy trips in about two seconds and cries little adorable tears, which the basset hound licks off his face.

this is so cute, and i don't even like chimpanzees. but you know what, if they're happy, who are we to tell them they can't be together?

whoever invented baby elephants, thank you. they make every situation/picture an exquisitely sweet moment in time that nobody can resist. if i saw a hobo with a baby elephant begging for money, i would give him everything i had, and then probably take the baby elephant, because i'm pretty sure that can't be too healthy a lifestyle for it.

was a three-headed dog in the harry potter books? actually, who cares.

that's me. no really, that's me. me and my penguin friend, pengy.

it's also funny when animals freak kids out. case in point:


however, the other way around is not funny, and just mean:

see? what a rude little child.

in conclusion, i am not a pedophile. come on, scroobius. let's go.