Vacation, part 2

Still on Vacation. I will start updating again soon, like next week soon, but I will be switching to a 3 day update schedule due to working. Woot!

Vacation

Brad's Parents are in town so updates this week will be few and far between. I will still try to do a ITWSSG but I make no guaranties.

Ciao!

Mindblowing Meat Cake Madness

In the past I had seen non, or faux, cakes. They were cakes that were not cakes. Things that were deceptive, like cakes that were really made of sandwiches, or the meat cake.

One day last week, Brad and I decided to embark on the path of making a meatloaf cake. It seemed like something fun, and fairly easy to do, plus we both like meatloaf, and we had to try out our new spring-form pan.

I made the meatloaf mix like usual, meat (ground beef), eggs, bread crumbs, garlic, onion powder, and a super-secret seasoning. Thus mixed, I gingerly pressed the meat mixture into the pan and prayed to the meatloaf gods for even cooking, and tasty meat. Prayer completed, I topped the meat mush with ketchup, and into the oven it went.

About an hour and a half later, the intoxicating smell of cooking beef wafted into the living room. The smell was exquisite, causing me to hallucinate that the enemies I was killing on Halo were joints of mutton and other meaty delights. It was distracting to say the least.

In preparation for the feast to come I sent Brad to the kitchen to start the mashed potatoes.

Another 15 minutes later and it was time to pull my creation out of the oven. It was beautiful and terrible. I knew, without a doubt, that this was the prettiest meat loaf in all of known creation. All other bread shaped meat dishes quaked in fear and awe.

We let it cool and then topped it, frosting style, with the mashed potatoes. A hasty ketchup decoration later, and viola!

Trepidatiously, we approached the deceptive decorated delight, and cut ourselves some slices. Plates in hand, we adjourned to the living room, and sat down to our feast.

Each bite was better than the last. An ecstasy of flavor, and sauce, and meat poured into our mouths like forkfuls from the gods. It was almost too much to bear; Brad met my tear filled eyes and we shared a moment of perfect understanding. Nothing, not even chocolate, had nor would ever taste this good.

When our stomachs were satiated and our plates were empty, we each shared a burp of appreciation.


I will look fondly on our meat-tastic adventure until I am old, and gray, and probably still burping up bits of it.




The shots above are there because, ya know, pics or it didn't happen.

I'm Late, I'm Late, for a very important date.

SOoooo ITWSSG didn't get done yesterday....but it's not my fault, really...

We had an internet outage in our area, which was without a doubt the scariest thing to ever happen to me.
I apologize for not having it up, and humbly offer it to you today.







Let me clarify today's ITWSSG. I really do hope the new cap works. The ending of the devastation of the Gulf would be a wonderful thing. The cynic in me just highly doubts the workiness anything that BP does anymore.

Have a great weekend everybody. See ya tomorrow!

Bad case of the Blahs

I have been in a funk the last couple of days. It happens when I do anything, even stuff I love doing like this blog.

Here's what happens:

Day One:

Everything is fine, sparkly in fact.


The possibilities seem endless, and everything seems full of awesome.


Then something happens. It's like the shine wears off.



Then I hit the point where I am at now.



I am hoping this is just a passing thing. I am going to keep working at it here, and hoping it goes away. I will keep plugging away, searching the internet to get inspiration.


On a separate note, ITWSSG will be up later today, instead of tomorrow, because I am going to the lake!!

Easy-Peasy

I love video games, but before I met Brad the only ones I was good at were fps. Any other games and not only did I suck, but it seemed that my character would get fed up of my button mashing and consciously commit suicide. Mario and Sonic would regularly, randomly, jump off ledges, Master Chief throws himself on grenades, the cards in solitaire give me paper cuts and then set themselves on fire.



So I would play any game that I got on the easiest mode it came with. Yes, I know it is a terrible habit, but I rationalized by saying that I played games for the plot. That's all well and good, but I was playing games like Unreal Tournament. Yeah, real heavy on the plot that game was.

Now I have expanded my horizons a bit, because I realized that by playing on easy all the time, I wasn't getting any better. I still enjoy playing games for the plot (and with great new games like Alan Wake and Mass Effect, I feel less like a tool saying that), but I don't enjoy getting spanked by my friends. So now I start games on normal, and work my way up (I even finished Halo 3 on legendary, what what!). I think I am getting a little better, though sometimes I still randomly jump into the yawning abyss.

I think that, with the newer game consoles, it's easier to play on harder settings (if that makes sense). On older consoles the save points were few and far between. Add the save points to the fact that lives were severally limited, and you have a mixture for repeated Megan fails. Most of today's games still have save points, yes, but they also have a pause menu save option; which makes for a slightly less frustrated Megan.

Then I came across this:



I would play the crap outta those games (for the plot, of course), but inevitably, my character would still find a way to bite the dust. Probably literally.

Sick

Sick...Barfing....other end not so great either....

Post more tomorrow.

Enjoy dinosaurs.





Imma go back to bed now

Man Stuff

Yesterday we went out to my parents house. They live in the country, well the country compared to where we live. My mom, step-dad, and all my step siblings were out there.I love going out there to hang out, but I also love watching how Brad and my step-dad (Marvin) interact.

Brad and Marvin are two very different people. Brad is nerdery to its finest. He loves movies and comics and video games. He loves rock music, and hates country music. He can kick booty in a game of Magic, or Halo, and still whip up a darn tasty batch of won-tons.

Marvin is almost like the anti-Brad. Doesn't really like movies, or TV; he only really watches the shows on hunting or random science shows (think Mythbusters). I've never known him to play a video game, he would much rather be chopping wood or sitting out on the porch. Marvin loves country, and while he can whip up a mean steak, I can't really picture him in a kitchen.

Somehow though, Brad and Marvin get along really well. I have a theory on why this happens: they both look at the other, and their interests, with a kind of bemusement. They both get the same look on their face sometimes, when the other says something. It is the 'I want to laugh, but am being polite' look.

The other reason that they get along so well, I think, is what I call Man Stuff. Man Stuff (it deserves capital letters) is stuff like building things, or hunting, or hitting things with a hammer.  Brad doesn't have many other manly testosterone filled men (no offense Dt, Kaz, etc. I love you, but you've never carved a canoe out of a tree. Marvin has done that) to talk too, so I think he kind of looks up to Marvin in that regard.



I mean, besides building a canoe, Marvin has built a workshop, ginormous chicken coup, tables and benches. He also hunts regularly, and cleans his own kills. Which used to freak me right the heck out when I lived with my mom. Nothing says 'Good Morning' like a deer carcass hanging outside.

I love the fact that Brad and Marvin can get along. It is darn near inspirational, that two guys, who are worlds apart, can get along so well. World leaders should try it sometime. Can you imagine Obama and Ahmadinejad building a bird house together? I can, and it is awesome.

Since today's post was a more serious than funny, I bring you...Today's Comic Relief:

Queen of Farts

Somehow I have become queen of a little place I call Fartopia.

Fartopia's ruler is not happy, because all day she is surrounded by farts. Her king farts. Her royal subjects all fart (which let me tell you, cat and dog farts are the worst!). Her friends fart. All day long she sits on her smelly throne, surrounded by the smell of gas, wishing the malodorous stink lines would go away from above her head.



I am starting to think I need to change everyone's diet, because the gas problem at my house is getting insane. I'm pretty sure that, any day now, we are going to be reported to ONG as having a leak.

Brad is pretty bad about it. Last night he cut one, and then walked from our den to the living room. The stink followed him into the next room. It was like a horrible, horrible scent trail wafting between the rooms. He blamed it on a duck. I told him that the duck must have died long ago to work up that level of stench.

Brad and DT have farting contests. At least, I think they may be contests. They may also be some sort of super secret testing of smell as an offensive (very offensive) weapon for the government. It has gotten so bad between the two of them that I have literally gagged and had to step outside. I am super surprised that neither of them has gotten methane poisoning (that's a real thing right?).

The cats are not much better. Hime in particular. She has mastered the art of the sneak attack. She comes and lays down on you, usually right on your chest, and then lets one rip. One time I caught her doing it, yelled at her (not very loud, mind you) and I swear to God she started purring at me. Like she did it on purpose to punish me for something. Ugh.

Maddie (our dog) is the master of the crop duster. She will walk by us, neat as you please, all innocent-like. Then, a few seconds later...WHAM... dog farts. If you have never smelled dog farts you should thank whatever deity you pray to profusely. Dog farts are the Cthulhu of the world of gaseous anomalies. They will drive you into madness, and out the other side. On a scale of one to ten, Maddie farts are a *Blargh* (a unit of measure that is more than a ten but less than a googolplex).

What about me (meaning me, Megan, not you, who ever you are), you may ask. Well, I am a girl. Girls don't fart. We pass gas like a gentle breeze, and it always smells of fresh flowers and baking cookies. True story.

All about DT

Early post today. Mainly because I have to work on making money tomorrow, but also because it was way to great to not get this story up. I want to seriously stress that this actually happened.

This happened to DT today at work.

Ahhh DT.

We love you so much, because only you can pull stuff like this, and, not only get not fired, but get the customer to laugh it off.

You are a wonder, but next Magic game, you are going down.

Also HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOVO!!!! We loves you bunches!

Adventures of ITWSSG #4

[caption id="attachment_183" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="(Photo from Tyson2u)"][/caption]

See you Monday everyone.

Tyson2u's photos here.

Magic: The Gathering....of weirdos

Late post today. Yard work and other obligations had to be done first. Speaking of yard work, I have a bur plant in my yard, and came back in with more burs than a girl wearing a bikini in the arctic. I have no idea where the stupid plant is, but it is now my mission to find it and take it down, Solid Snake style.

On to today's topic.

As I said in a previous post, Brad, a friend of ours named DT, and I have been playing a lot of Magic: The Gathering. We are all like 2 steps away from a serious addiction problem with it. I've started to notice though that it is a dirty, dirty game. Not in a sense of physical exertion, or cheating....well much (I'm lookin' at you Brad). It's just that several of the much used phrases, taken out of context, can be horribly dirty. Especially if you are as immature as we are.

Inevitably, and usually multiple times, during the night someone will say something and we will collapse into giggles (well, I giggle, the boys chuckle all manly like I suppose). A couple of weeks ago I started writing down the things that have been said, so that everyone who reads this can be just as immature as we are.

Things we have said, taken completely out of context:

Tap that

I forgot to tap that.

I wish I hadn't tapped that.

Tink me, Tink me hard.

Go ahead and tink me, you know you wanna.

I don't have a very happy hand. I have a sad hand.

You just got black blazed. (linked because I felt it may need some explanation)

Don't put your red deck in my box. You know it doesn't go there.

-Brad to DT: you have a huge deck.

Stop pulling stuff out of your a**.

Take it.

Yep, those things have come out of our faces at one time or another, and in the gaming context they are all completely innocent.

Wait....

No they're not.

Also Mom,

If you are reading this, I'm sorry my humor is still at a fifth grade level, but you have to admit....it's pretty funny though.....right?.....right??

Ninja Cat is Ninja-y

This is my cat Hime (it's short for Orihime, like the character from Bleach).



She is weird, I mean even for a cat (because all cats are a little bit bizarre), and so I thought that today I would share my miser....I mean her weird antics with you.

First off, she follows me into the bathroom. Our bathroom door doesn't close all the way if you just swing it shut; it looks like it is closed, but in reality you could push it open. Hime knows this, and for some reason thinks that whenever I have to, um, go, she needs to see what I am doing in there. She does this every single time I go to the bathroom. I can only imagine what her thought process is:

Hmmm, the big furless cat that gives me food is going into a secret room and shutting the door. She must be doing some mystical thing in there. I must find out what it is. She pushes open the door.  Oh, my, well that is not what I thought at all.

Hime is also a food ninja. I don't know why, we feed her enough that she has a little Buddha belly. Regardless she feels that any food left unattended for even a second (and some that is still very much attended) is hers. She doesn't just stand there eating it either. No, she takes it and runs like the hounds of Hell are after her.

Food Hime tries to steal on a regular basis:

Chips (any flavor)

Any meat (yep, anything, not just fish)

Broccoli

Lettuce

Ice Cream

Hot Dogs (they don't count as real meat)

Any sort of bones

Popcorn

A few of the above list I understand. Cats like meat, okay, I get it, but broccoli and potato chips? I mean, what the heck. Either everything I cook tastes frickin' magically delicious, or she is a big ol' freak. Neither of our other cats will eat broccoli, heck I have a hard enough time getting Brad to eat it.

Lastly Hime is a shoulder cat. I don't mean that anything is wrong with her shoulders (look honey, the cat sprouted wings again); I mean she loves riding around perched on people's shoulders. It's like she thinks she is a furry parrot. It would be fine, except she has claws like talons, and knows how to use them.

Also she is the only cat I know that gives hugs. Well, I don't know if they are exactly hugs. I get the feeling that if she had opposable thumbs, I wouldn't be here right now.

That's our Hime; ninja-shoulder-bathroom cat extraordinaire. We lover her, and I'm pretty sure she loves us too. I've got the scratches to prove it.

Totally Terrific Top-hat Tomfoolery!

Everything is better with top-hats and mustaches. As proof I bring you:

Things that are infinitely better with top-hats and mustaches:

(With thanks to DT, Kazallo, Ezekiel, and others (who I don't have permission to use her name yet) for the ideas!!)

_______-*-_______

_______-*-_______

_______-*-_______

[caption id="attachment_155" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="(Gremlins are the Copyright of Warner Bros. Studios)"][/caption]

_______-*-_______

So there you go! No more proof needed, right?

Enjoy your Wednesday everybody!!!

In Defense of Dungeons and Dragons

As the story arc of the game I am GMing wraps up, I am preparing character ideas for Brad's game.  He is going to run an intermission game between each different GM's story arc, and he's gonna run it using Dungeons and Dragons 4th edition.

When D&D 4th came out I heard a lot of dissent about it on the web, and in real life. I've heard people say that it has been dumbed down, is more like a certain MMO (that starts with World, and ends with of Warcraft) than a role-playing game, or simply that in its quest to get new players it has gone too mainstream.

All of those arguments are valid. Some of them may even be true, but that shouldn't stop your enjoyment of the game.

D&D is a great game for the same reason that 'Shoot 'Em Up' was a great movie, or why playing games like Halo and Call of Duty are fun. It speaks to a visceral need within a player, something going back to our caveman days.....

Sometimes you just need to blow some stuff up. I mean sometimes all you need, after a long day, is to throw your +2 throwing axe into some orc's face. Add in the shininess of treasure, and hot darn, you got yourself a game.

D&D gives players a break from plot-heavy games like World of Darkness, or Gurps, or even to some extent BESM. That doesn't mean that D&D is all killing and no plotting, it's just different. It's more black and white than most games, I mean there are definite good guys and definite bad guys. Lolth is never going to pick daisies (unless they are daisies of....DOOM), and Melora is never going to wear a necklace of halfling heads or chain smoke.

There is something wonderful about defeating an ultimate evil (or good, if you're playing evil characters) that just makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, and that is why D&D, no matter what edition, will always have a special place in my heart, and on my gaming table.

And two words:

Gelatinous Cube.

Come on, what other system makes you fight evil Jello?

Cycle of Doom!!

As most of you know, I have severe anxiety...uh...issues stemming from some stuff that happened about 5 years ago, and some more stuff that happened while I was a kid. I would like to take some time today to discuss my anxiety, in a humorous way of course, as a cathartic exercise.

Recently my anxiety has been a little cyclical, and looks something like this:



Let's break it down, shall we:

Things that cause Megan anxiety:

Crowds,

Clowns,

Public speaking,

Non-public speaking,

Spiders,

Any other insect/arachnid (with the exception of rolly-pollies and ladybugs),

Feeling guilty,

Yelling,

Loud noises,

Global Warming,

Global Cooling,

Bills,

Money,

Things not being in straight lines, or being out of order,

So yeah, I am pretty much anxious all the time. Unless I find a way to get fabulously wealthy and surround myself with puppies and kittens (and a cleaning staff for said puppies and kittens), I am going to stay anxious too.

Panic Attacks:

In all seriousness, something causes me to have a panic attack at least once a day (usually more). Panic attacks are awful. I feel like I am dying and there is nothing I can do about it. My chest gets tight, I can't breathe, my heart races. The worst part is most times I am so freaked out I forget to do the breathing exercises I am supposed to do. I have only passed out like once or twice. On a good note, if I do pass out, it returns my breathing to normal.

The Shame:

Aaahh, the shame. I am ashamed by my own ability, or more accurately lack of ability, to control my panic attacks. I am embarrassed that I have to turn down stuff that I used to love, and the fact that I have to plan my whole life around my panicky-ness.

The Guilt:

I feel guilty pretty much all the time. I feel guilty that I am not able to work in a public job, that Brad, and the rest of my friends, have to deal with me, I feel guilty that I am not pulling in any money, I feel like I should be able to handle things (even thought I can't).

So there you go. Now I don't want you all to think that my life is all bad, because it's not. There are just some things that I am working on changing.

Tomorrow, a happy subject. See you then peoples!

It’s that time again!

It's ITWSSG Saturday!!!

So, Lo' and unto you I do present the latest ITWSSG. The peasants may start rejoicing at any time.



See you on Monday folks! Tomorrow is Brad's day off and fabric shopping!!

King Tut's missing mummy member

I came across an article yesterday that said that King Tutankhamen's penis is missing.

Seriously.

I'm not even making this up (by the way, I linked the article because typing any form of 'mummy penis' into a search engine is a bad idea).

Apparently, the missing member was attached after the first unwrapping in 1922, and was thought to be missing in 1968 (but later found in the sand around his body), but apparently now the junk is gone.



Some archeologists claim that the penis was detached because it may have been small, or underdeveloped (due to Antley-Bixler syndrome), and removing it saved the boy king postmortem embarrassment. I think they may just be projecting their own inadequacies. I mean, can you imagine that conversation?

"Hey Jenkins, King Tut's penis is missing."

Jenkins looks down at his own pants "Tiny..."

"Yes, maybe it was small. Maybe that's why it was removed from the mummy."

"Yes......the mummy...That's what I'm talking about."

Other archeologists disagree, but still, the theory is out there.

Poor King Tut, if you follow the Egyptian view of the dead, he is wandering around the afterlife penis-less and confused, and now in the real world every one is talking about how tiny his proverbial Pharaoh's staff could have been.

I wonder how everyone else is missing the big picture. I mean guys have tiny dicks all the time.

What is the bigger issue here you may ask.....Where's the beef? I mean his personal pyramid is missing.  Is someone on the penis patrol (again, do not search that term)? Or is there a mummified penis being sold in some seedy Egyptian bazaar? Or even worse, is it being used like some kind of twisted monkey's paw?

Either way, I hope they find it. Both to assuage the tiny man-bit fears, and to give the poor guy back his junk.

That is all folks; I literally can't type another euphemism for male genitalia without it getting freaky up in here.

Penis, penis, penis, penis, penis.

I lied.

Blahsmo, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Hate the Mag

When I first started dating Brad I started reading Cosmo. I did this for several reasons: A) Because I thought all grown-up women read it, B) I thought it would give good relationship advice (because dating in the real world is different from dating in school) and C) Because I am an idiot.

I read the magazine religiously for about a year, then I stopped. Well less like stopped, and more like came to my senses.

I realized that nothing I had read in any of the magazines had helped in my life. Ever. Nothing. All the articles and fashion tips and relationship advice had been for naught. Well that's not exactly true. They did provide Brad and I a source of hilarity after a while.

I mean, every article, it seems, is about getting a guy, keeping a guy, what you're doing wrong with your guy, how to get rid of a guy. It's a tad bit disturbing. I love Brad, but every bit of my day doesn't revolve around him.

Or the articles that weren't about pleasing a man, were about fixing what was 'wrong' with poor lil' ol' me.

Then one day I looked around, and realized that I didn't need fixing. I mean, yeah, I may be messed up, but I highly doubt '8 awesome ways to wear white' will help my anxiety. Plus looking at all those stupid stick thin, skinny bitches just reinforced that I was way not societies standard.

In the years since, with Brad's help, I am slowly getting over my insecurities. Yeah, I may not be a perky, blond, idiot in a size two mini-skirt, but I am a kick-ass cook, and I have friends that love me.

So I don't read Cosmo anymore, and I think it's for the best. I have plenty of other things I can be doing with my time, like writing to you guys, or kicking butt at Magic, or, ya' know, anything else.

And I asked Brad if men's magazines do the same thing for him. He said no. So maybe it's just a girl thing.

Peace out b*****es!