Month: November 2012

Life Goal Realized!

My life goal was realized today.

This is good especially since I’ve got a big birthday coming up next week, and it would have been hard to hit this age and still have this life goal ahead of me.

What is the age, you ask? None of your fucking business.

I kid, I kid.

I’m going to turn 1,000 years old next week…at least that’s how American society treats women over a certain age. I might as well be a dessicated corpe because I’m turning 40, people. The big Fuck-Oh. Luckily I still have the emotional maturity of a seventh grader and the body of a dolphin.

I didn’t think my goal realization would happen. I struggled. I cried. I ate too many potato chips.

I asked my life coach for help. Or actually I went to Oprah’s website and found this advice from a life coach who makes more money than all of us:

“You cannot feed a beagle all it wants.”

So, so true.

So I took that beagle and I turned it into lemonade, and finally…FINALLY…won a pair of ‘stache glasses from the amazing Jules of the amazing blog Go Jules Go. Jules is still without power from Hurricane Sandy, but still felt it was important enough to get my life goal in the mail.

I wanted to take a picture of myself wearing my life goal to show Jules my appreciation, but my insistence on anonymity resulted in this hot mess:

That’s me with a paper bag over my head. Here’s the thing with a paper bag on your head.  You can’t see. And it’s hot. And you feel stupid. And you can’t operate a camera so well.

I thought maybe I could draw how awesome I looked.

But it just made me look like I had boots for a nose. And I was missing part of my arm.

I sought out a better model. We obviously know what picture is next:

I tucked Jules business card into his crop top so their lips were almost touching. I did this because I know Jules is planning on Hugo being her second husband.

My husband came home from work and upon viewing my lame attempts, took this picture of me. I think the ‘stache glasses really bring out my eyes.

But did you know that like a beagle, you cannot feed a blogger all she wants? It turns out I want more…another life goal, if you will. I can’t just rest on my laurels. I can’t be a shark who stops moving and sinks to the bottom only to be eaten by a raveonous beagle.

So Life Goal II: Electric Boogaloo commences.

Do you know of a shy wallflower blogger of the name Le Clown? Well, he has a brand spanking new page up on his blog called “Press Releases,” which highlights posts written about his Le Magnificence™.

I want to be on Le Clown’s Press Releases Page.

And after that accomplishment, I want to watch TV.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the tenth post. She is questioning the wisdom of this endeavor, but looks really cool doing so because she is wearing ‘stache glasses. 

Mentos, the Porn Maker

I was looking at Redbook magazine, trying to find ways to juggle my career and my belly fat, when I came across this ad:

Hm. What exactly is happening here? Is the hand, the hand of God? If so, nice manicure, and what happened to the “fresh and full of life” Mentos ads? I remember less breasts.

See the Mentos ads of my youth were like this: the heroine breaks a heel, pops a Mentos, and decides to break the other heel while a dazzled Mitt Romney-type gestures emphatically.

You know, something dorky like this.

This new ad campaign is something else:

I feel kind of squicky looking at it. I know women are sex objects. I realize that is our only purpose–oh and to work flexible hours so we can be home on time to make dinner–but I thought gum was just gum. Do we need a women’s bare breast or butt to say “chew on this?”

This new ad campaign is the equivalent of finding out Bert and Ernie engage in a sado-masochistic relationship.

“You will submit to rubber duckie.”

See I feel weird that I’m suppose to be thinking sexy time when it comes to gum. I just want something to cover up the hummus I had for lunch. I don’t want to feel like I should be masturbating. Is this what the future holds?

Actually that last one kinda works for me.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the ninth post. She appreciates any and all suggestions unless you recommend she make out with Hugo, the man of 1,000 faces. He scares her, and is currently hiding in her closet. 

The Terrible Twos

I may have mentioned in the past that I work with young children. I teach them about books and media literacy in this room called a library, a place that has been made obsolete by the Internetz.

I did a lesson today on the differences between fiction and nonfiction. I read two stories about ducks. One was about real mallard ducks and one was about a duck that wore underwear. Whenever I said underwear, the kids laughed uproariously as if it was Showtime at the Apollo. I killed it, people. I killed.

Underwear.

One little bugger decided the show needed to be about him. He rolled around on the floor like a flounder plucked from the water. He whimpered and whined and refused my entreaties to “act like a kindergartener”–my polite way of saying “get your fucking act together, dude.”

But all appeals to reason and logic went unheeded, and the lesson ended with the little “angel” running around, knocking over books and screaming.

In short, he sucked.

And he reminded me of somebody.

Two people actually.

I realize this kid has a bright future ahead of him as a political pundit and/or loudmouthed shit-spewer. He reminded me of money-bags consultant and Stay Puft Marshmallow Man stand-in Karl Rove who had a bit of his own meltdown on Fox News.

See Karl Rove had convinced a handful of gazillionaires to put their gazillions in Romney-supported ads to swing the election to Romney. And now he has to explain why he sucks. Two words: pork jowls.

The cutie patootie also reminded me of perennial bankruptcy-filer and perennial Turd of the Week™ Donald Trump.

Trump took to the twit-waves and tweeted moronic ramblings about revolution and bad combovers.

See his favorite candidate–his own fat Oompa-Loompa mug–didn’t win the write-in campaign of douchery. So Donald stuck his iPhone under his ass and expelled loudly onto it, producing such gems as:

“This election is a total sham and a travesty. We are not a democracy.”

And

“I am completely irrelevant.”

Tantrum city, people.

The thing is, the five-year-old kind of has an excuse because he’s five and even then, he’s way too old to be having the kind of tantrum he exhibited in the library today.

Those other two? Well, they’re just terrible.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the eighth post. If you don’t like it, she will throw an epic tantrum. 

Block the Vote!

Today is the day to cast your hard-won right-to-vote vote. 

Okay that sounded really clunky and I was going for inspiring. You have to cut me some slack since I’m attempting to post daily when I have little to say. In fact I thought the expression was “catch me some slack.”

So some of you voting voters may have the pleasure of encountering what is known as election thugs monitors, people who will hang around and make sure you actually have the right to cast your hard-won right-to-vote vote and are not a fraud.

For your edification, this is what a non-fraud voter looks like:

Or this:

And this as well:

If you look like any of these non-fraud voters, you’re golden.

But what if you don’t resemble these three American archetypes?

Well you may be in for a bit of challenging day especially if you happen to live in one of three states that decide the presidential election.

Is voter fraud really so rampant to require such a response as thousands of monitors? Actually no. If you read the article in the link, you would see that more Americans were charged with violating migratory-bird statutes then with committing election fraud.

But here’s the issue, if we let everybody vote, it may put one particular candidate at a disadvantage by leaving him with less votes.

And is that fair to him?

Well…yes.

So I figured I better quickly devise some methods to help you get around these helpful watchers to ensure your ballot is cast:

  • Wear this T-shirt:

  • Put a pumpkin over your head–make sure you have something like a rat’s nest or a tangle of fried onions on top of it–and try to pass yourself off as Donald Trump. You will see that everyone will give a wide berth.
  • Upon approach, immediately start dry-heaving. People do not dig vomit even if it is fraud vomit.
  • Same goes for peeing of the pants. It makes people uncomfortable to talk to someone who has urine actively traveling down one’s leg.
  • Carry a slop bucket and a mop under the guise you’re just there to clean the polling place.
  • Since Republicans seem interested in making all uteri property of the government, ask a poll watcher if he’d be willing to hold onto yours to make sure it doesn’t get into any trouble while you go vote.
  • Use your vote to remove those from power who tacitly (and not so tacitly) support such unbelieveable anti-democratic measures.

Yes, I’m talking to you John Husted and Rick Scott.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the sixth post. Depending on how today goes, tomorrow’s post may be a primordial scream. 

Hugo for Movember

Who better to raise awareness about prostate cancer and mental health issues than Hugo, the man of 1,000 faces?

This was from Hugo’s campaign to raise awareness about the dangers of eating lip balm.

True, he does not have a prostate. He does not have any lower body at all as a matter of fact. Or organs. Okay, so he’s a half-man puppet, but that half puppet can wear a mustache like nobody’s business.

November is the month for Movember, a campaign to raise money and awareness around men’s health issues. One way of doing this is to grow and/or spraypaint mustaches on one’s face. Another way is to join Bloggers for Movember, an online campaign created by Le Clown, the only man I have ever seen best Hugo in a hot dog eating contest.

Hugo is showing his support by modeling the eight types of mustaches available to the human and/or puppet race.

1. Sensitive Artist/Poet ‘Stache

This ‘stache shows the wearer is quite comfortable baring his sole and a little man cleavage. Roses are red/Violets are blue/Mustaches are brown/And Hugo loves you.

2. Gigolo ‘Stache

This takes the whole baring-oneself up a notch to full-on belly revealing. This mustache shrieks complete confidence in a man’s ability to love the ladies all night long. What’s you sign? Cuz my sign is Go.

3. Fireman ‘Stache

Somebody call 911 because my pants are on fire.

4. Douche ‘Stache

This ‘stache has the scent of success…no wait, that is the scent of Axe Body Wash. The wearer has no trouble telling you how much his peen can bench press or how many lady crotch shots he’s taken surreptitiously from the floor of the women’s bathroom.

5. Stunted Adult ‘Stache

This ‘stache screams “I have the top score in whatever videogame is the popular videogame.” It says to the world: “World, I refuse to grow up. Do you see I’m wearing a toddler hat with cat ears?” Respeck.

6. Hacky-Sack ‘Stache

I don’t know, do people even play hacky sack anymore? Or is it something you do on the Wii? I’m old. If I had a fedora this would have been the hipster ‘stache, but I don’t think they have fedoras for toddlers. Maybe in hipster toddler stores?

7. Pirate

Arrghhh! I’ll tell you what plank I’d like you to walk, me matey. It’s flesh-colored. Get it? Get it?

8. Grandpa/Ernest Hemingway/Old Yosemite Sam ‘Stache

This ‘stache says to the world “I like to curse and hunt rabbits, and get off my lawn!”

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the fifth post. She would have included a picture of her own prominent mustache, but seeks to remain anonymous. 

Doin’ It

Alright so I’m lightening things up a little with today’s post.

The last few days have been a little political, and sure, I lost some followers, but whatevs. I’m not even counting or noticing that it was three. Fare thee well former readers, I have nothing but contempt good feelings for you.

For those who stuck it out, you are in for a treat! I went over to the lady section on Yahoo! to learn about lady issues like tampon-string irritation, and I returned with ways to rev up my down-there engine.

C’mon ladies, let’s face it. After a long day of choosing Jif® over Skippy®, the last thing your woman brain can handle is thinking about sexy times. I mean, who’s going to unload the dishwasher?

But follow these surefire tips from Yahoo! Shine! and you will sure fire up that grill that has been lying dormant and charcoal-free in your pants.

1. Eat Sexy-Enhancing Foods

Scarf down some bananas and peanut butter because your hoo-hah apparently has the same appetite as Elvis Presley. Do not be surprised if your ladybits began to crave white polyester jumpsuits.

2. You Go Grrrllkjl;ajk

Ignore everything woman-centric websites/magazines tell you that you should hate about your appearance and just accept yourself, grrlllrllll! You are so beautiful or you could be if you followed our Green Juice/Coconut Water Ab-Blaster Diet®. You deserve to bump your non-size-0 love muffin against the mighty peen even though you could follow our 10 steps to a Thinner Vagina Shake Program® and shed those unwanted vaginal pounds. Better yet, cut back on those peanutbutter-banana sandwiches. What are you, Elvis Presley?

3. Shake Weights® 

Exercise gets the endorphins flowing, and for some reason men like to see women doing this:

4. Brain Stimulation

Did you know that your brain is more powerful than your elbow? It is! That’s why it makes less sense to rub a peanutbutter banana sandwich against your elbow than it does to read a sexy book with your brain-connected eyes. Ohhh! What sexy book am I going to mention?!? I don’t know…could it be…wait for it…

Fifty Shades of Grey?

Yes, apparently you can read this book and not despair about the downfall of humanity and instead want to clamp your genitals onto an actual genital clamp. The article also mentioned the movie Magic Mike, which I haven’t seen because I don’t like looking at greasy skin.

Anyway, I guess the point is look at or read something that turns you on. For some reason, this is doing it for me:

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the fourth post. Speaker7 is always looking for suggestions for future posts. They should be sexy, however, because she is in a really sexy mood from reading sexy lady tips from Yahoo!.

Heckuva Turd

One might say criticizing the president for responding too quickly to Hurricane Sandy is partisan hackery at its best.

But when that critic is the poster child of one of the most botched relief efforts in recent U.S. history, that critic floats to the level of turd superstar, otherwise known as Turd of the Week™.

Michael “heckuva job, Brownie” Brown took Obama to task for holding a press conference the day before the storm hit.

Apparently it’s way better to deal with the mess after it happens. The Bush Administration waited a good amount of time before noticing much of the Gulf Coast was underwater from Hurricane Katrina in August 2005. In fact the day after the levees fell in New Orleans, President Bush was quoted as saying “New Orleans dodged a bullet.” Once they realized things were grim, they responded by not responding. Brown, a former supervisor of horse judges and then current head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, “led” the relief effort.

Two weeks later, Brown resigned in disgrace.

In the storm’s aftermath, Brown, like much of Louisiana, seemed to be in over his head.

On the day Katrina made landfall, Brown was busy typing “funny” emails to staff, like:

“Can I quit now? Can I go home?” (2005 Speaker7’s reply: Yes, and take the entire Bush Administration with you.)

And emails about FEMA attire:

At the Congressional hearings on Katrina a year later, Brown pointed the finger-of-blame at everyone including a little boy scout who was visiting the Capitol for the first time ever after selling the most popcorn balls in his troop. When members of Congress demanded he admit his culpability in the colossal fuckery, he yelled like a two-year-old.

So it makes sense that Brownie should ever speak anything about someone else’s heckuva job since he knows exactly how disaster relief shouldn’t unfold.

Or what I meant to write is it makes sense that he won my weekly turd award because…cheese and crackers, Michael Brown, why the flipping hell do you think anyone wants to hear your take on this?

Turd.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the third post. It is a post about turds. There may be many more due to the overabundance of turds. Would you like to read about something other than turds this month? Then leave a suggestion in the comments. 

Where My Ladies At?

Hi Women!

Whas up, yo?

Sorry I began so awkwardly. It’s because I feel nervous.

I feel nervous because some of you are Republicans or people who think voting for Mitt Romney is a good idea. I fear you will drop me like Michael Jackson almost dropped Blanket from that hotel balcony or post something in the comments that will make me feel squicky.

I get it. I do, I honestly do. You like something that he stands for. I can’t imagine what that is, but I’m sure it’s something with economics or smaller government.

But here’s the rub: the way Republicans have been talking about women and acting about women is just fucking wrong. There’s no getting past it.

You may be thinking, but Mitt loves his wife, how can Speaker7 say Mitt is anti-women? And I would say if you are Ann Romney, by all means vote for Mitt because he seriously digs you. But if you’re somebody who relies on Planned Parenthood for your health care, believes you should be able to procure birth control easily and affordably, and be treated fairly in the workplace, then the Republican train ain’t the one to be on.

Here’s just a few examples of Republican exceptionalism:

  • advocacy of a no-exceptions abortion ban, according to the GOP platform
  • opposition to the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act of 2009
  • mandated transvaginal ultrasounds
  • promotion of the Blunt Amendment that would have allowed any employer to deny covering birth control on moral grounds
  • discussion of rape distinctions–I’ll handle that later; it needs its own paragraph

I’m voting for Obama. There are things Obama stands for that I don’t like. I don’t like the Race for the Top education policy that basically continues the shittiness of No Child Left Behind. I don’t like the administration’s support of hydrofracking. But I overlook these things because otherwise I would never be able to vote for anyone ever.

But if I felt for a second that Obama thought women were less than, I would be out the door. Like if he continued to support a candidate who had the gall to say something like rape was a gift from God? I’d be thanks, but no thanks, fella.

I know women are not a uniform, monolithic voting bloc. I know we aren’t all on our periods at the same time and eagerly awaiting the latest sale of chocolate-dipped shoes. We have our own issues, concerns, and life experiences that shape the decisions we make at the ballot box. But cheezits cripes, we should band together when it comes to a political party advocating for policies that state our lives are worth less.

I get the distinct impression that Republicans–at least the ones in power and talking–don’t really like us all that much. I mean, they like us if we’re getting coffee or giving blow jobs, but otherwise? Not so much.

I mean how else can you explain those comments about rape? I can’t for the life of me understand why this is an issue that merits any discussion beyond “rape is a crime.” Now it’s been turned into something that can be categorized like forcible or legitimate or something that is so easy to do to some women. And it’s Republicans who are saying these things.

So I think it’s time we said “enough.” I think it’s time we put a stop to the nonsense and demand to be treated like thinking human beings because we are. And we’re the majority.

If you can’t vote for Obama, that’s okay. Write in something like “Vagina Queen” or “Speaker7.” I frankly think it’s time we started our own party and gave men a taste of the shit they’ve been shoveling in our direction since the beginning of time.

Here is the Speaker7 Party slogan: “Ball-Scratchers Beware.”

But enough with electing these shitballs to positions of power. Sure maybe they talk a good game about creating jobs and reducing the deficit, but they really seem to be about creating crazy legislation and reducing our opportunities and access to health care.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the second post. She loves you very much. Even if you’re seething right now because you don’t like her positions, it doesn’t change the fact that she thinks you are wonderful.  She is looking for things to write about in the longest November since November existed. Please leave suggestions in the comments. The non-squicky type, please. 

10 Ways to Survive NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, kicks off this month.

This can seem overwhelming. Fifty thousand words over the course of 30 days? What on earth were you thinking?

But don’t fret. You will survive. Just follow these tips:

1. Have a topic in mind. This may seem like a no-brainer, but I can’t tell you how many writers start writing with no set direction. I know this because I’m doing it right now. My title says I have “10 ways,” but really, I have absolutely no idea what the hell I’m going to write after this first one. Do you think it should be about cats? No, that makes no sense.

2. Cats

3. Just start writing…it doesn’t matter if you have a topic in mind. I’ll wait…okay what did you come up with?

That is….good! I think you will have no trouble reaching 50,000 words.

4. Don’t get distracted by the little things. For instance I just spilled a chicken-and-goat-cheese quesadilla into the middle of my couch cushions, but did I let that stop me from watching TV? No. It is really messy though. There’s pieces of onion, burrito shell crumbs, chicken bits. I should probably clean that up. But the vacuum cleaner is all the way upstairs! Ugh, my life is over. Over!

5. Read other writers for inspiration. Then start writing words and sentences. What did you come up with?

Holy crap! I love it, but it sounds a little too much like Fifty Shades of Grey. I would suggest making the guy a vampire to avoid any accusations of plagiarism.

6. Wow we’re already at 6!

7. Look for someone or something to blame when you ultimately fail at reaching the 50,000-word goal. Some suggestions:

  • I would have finished, but my child kept saying things like “Is there any food?” and “I don’t think the bleeding is stopping.”
  • I would have finished but my spouse kept saying “Are you not going into work again?” and “Do you think maybe today is the day you’ll take a shower?”
  • I had to go upstairs and get a vacuum to vacuum up some chicken bits and it was hard and sapped my will to live.

8.  I would have finished this, but you would not believe what I have to do right now. I have to actually climb stairs and bring down a 3,000 pound vacuum that weighs a ton, and then I have to plug it in and turn it on and I just can’t…sorry, the last two tips would have really been amazing.

Dearest Reader: Speaker7 is attempting to write a post every day in November so she doesn’t have to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).  I mean, really, you’d have to be crazy to do that. There is absolutely no way to survive it no matter what some writer with some tip list tells you. Never believe anyone who writes a how-to type post.