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Thursday, 15 October 2009
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How to Win (or Lose) Classily in Monopoly
I don't know how everyone else's childhood went, but as for mine, the board game Monopoly was fraught with dissension, strife, mean-spiritedness and cooties. Monopoly was one of our favorite games, but every time we would play, the following scenarios would occur:
1. The winner would then dance around the loser, singing "I'm a Loser" by the Beatles.
2. One of the players would forfeit the game, pouting, as soon as their luck took a downward turn.
3. We would all be up until 3 in the morning, at which point we all decided to tally up right then even though the game wasn't finished. A knock-down drag-out brawl debating the comparative worths of Pacific and North Carolina Avenue would ensue.
4. Once all the monopolies had been built up, we would fight over who got to go to jail for what offense, as nobody really wanted to go around the board at that point. For example, stealing someone's drink in the beginning of the game would get you thrown into jail while the others laughed and skipped past you to buy Park Place. At the end of the game, not even coughing on someone's Cheetos was a jail-worthy offense.
These scenarios should be avoided at all cost. So let's go through them, shall we?
1. Dancing around the loser singing anything.
You are the winner, my friend. Congratulations. You have endured hours of property acquiring, endless squabbles over whether snake eyes means you give all your property away, and you have successfully monopolized Park Place. You are truly awesome. But when you win, you must retain your classy cool. If it helps, pull out a monocle. Now repeat after me: "Good show. I was really scared there for a while, old chap." (Note: This works best when you have the monocle, but if you don't, alter the phrasing slightly,) This will not only make you look classy, but the loser will think about not punching your pansy behind in the face.
The picture is Angus from Questionable Content, one of my favorite webcomics ever.
2. It's three in the morning Grandma, YOU WIN.
If you find yourself paying every time you land on a space, I'm sorry. That is truly one of the most awful pitfalls of the game Monopoly. However, it is there to give you a little historical perspective. For example, you know now that small businesses didn't stand a chance while monopolies existed. "Yeah," you say, "but I want to win, not know how people felt decades before I was born!" Well. While winning is out of the question at the moment, please do not give in to the impulse to give up. Instead, I have a few witty phrases that won't make you look like such a sour-puss (yes, I said sour-puss. Another phrase popular decades before you were born).
"Only $200 dollars this time? Man, tax collector be trippin'."
"Come onnnn free parking! Daddy needs a new pair of shoes." (This is especially appropriate if you are the boot piece)
"Oh, you need $10000? Can I offer you my firstborn?"
3. Pacific or North Carolina?
At this point, it's dependent on who can thumb-wrestle the other into submission. No cheating, or it escalates to arm-wrestling.
4. Go Directly to Jail.
An easy way to fix this? Only let people go to jail when they get the card or land on the space. Problem. Solved.
Sunday, 06 September 2009
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I am actually not Down with the Sickness.
The Writer's Block was about my favorite remedies/ things to do while I am sick.
I haven't been sick enough recently for it to affect my performance on anything. I am perfectly ok working through anything I might consider "sick." However, the last time I was sick enough not to do that, I was really very sick. I think. It was back in high school. It could have been I knew class wouldn't have meant that much if I went, so I didn't mind missing it. Not so in college. But ANYWAY.
I always get out either Jane Eyre or Pride and Prejudice, or one of my many, many Agatha Christies. I curl up in a ball on the couch with pillows and blankets, with my tissues and a glass of water within arm's reach. It always helps to have someone to ask favors of at this point, as follows:
Mom, would you mind getting another box of tissues?
Mom, would you mind getting another blanket?
Mom, would you mind making me some soup?
Mom, would you mind cutting my nose off next time winter starts?
Things that DO NOT HELP:
Having a boyfriend who's not willing to help, but wants to be cuddly anyway.
STAY AWAY FROM ME UNLESS YOU'D LIKE TO CATCH THE PLAGUE. Kiss me and DIE, bitch.
Being out of meds but too effed up to go out and get some.
Well, I could drive to Walgreen's real quick to get some Advil, but I might crash the car if I hack up another lung while I'm driving there...
Having a ton of homework to do while you're sick.
Hey Sara, help me out... what's the derivative of x? I feel like I should know this, but the page is all fuzzy.
Not being able to sleep while you're sick.
I counted 18000 little swirly things on the ceiling of our bathroom last night. I lost count three times, as I threw up.
Having a worrywart around.
No, I do not need to go to the hospital, it's just a head cold. No, I do not need anything. My pillow is fine. I don't want any ginger ale. Thank you for the cough drops, but I'm sneezing. Yes, I've already gargled with salt water. No, I am not going to swallow that frog . (That last was courtesy of The Wicker Man, which I watched last night. Excellent movie.)
So, basically, don't get sick. K? That is the solution.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
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I'm Too Sexy for My...Self
The Writer's Block for today was about what makes me feel sexy. There's really no hard and fast answer to that one. (That's what she said.) I suppose my sexiness is tied to a lot of things.
1) The state of my hair.
Yes, my hair. When I'm having a great hair day, one of those "I'm flipping my hair just because it feels SO GOOD" days, I feel sexy. My hair swinging as I walk makes me want to shake the rest of it. And let's face it, sashaying is one of the sexiest moves. Which brings me to my next.
2) My hips swinging
Cause seriously, one foot directly in front of the other with the hips making a figure-8 is not just sexy for the guys to watch. It makes me feel sexy as hell. Which is like....
3) Salsa Dancing
This goes along with the hip swinging. There is just a lot of sexiness involved in salsa, I can't help it. It's sad that Wolff isn't interested in it. And for some reason I feel my underwear more acutely when I'm dancing salsa, it could be the fact that I could accidentally flash people in a skirt. Which brings me to my next:
4) Wearing sexy underwear.
Yes, I know that that is *exactly* what Victoria's Secret was looking for here, but I don't really care. Even if I look like the rattiest bum on the outside, if I'm wearing my good underwear (ie: underwear that my grandmother wouldn't wear, a bra that actually fits, and a bra I've had for less than 2 years) I feel friggin sexy.
5) Actually being wanted.
I know, this one's kinda cheating. But just getting that "Oh, I know what *you're* thinking" look is enough sometimes. No matter if I'm wearing the biggest ass tshirt I own and just got done running 2 miles and I'm all sweaty, that look is enough to override everything.
Soooooo... yeah. woo sexiness?
Sunday, 02 August 2009
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You're Right, There is More to Love.
There is more to love than diamonds and desperate attempts to settle down with someone before "it's too late."
Never mind that I object to reality love shows in the first place. This one in particular is just sad.
I, out of extreme boredom, watched More to Love the other day. It is a new show on Fox about a bigger type guy who is given a show and 20 girls to choose from. And is told to find his true love. Yeah. And these girls are all bigger women. Great. So far, no real problems with the show, besides the fact that it's a reality TV show about love.
Here's the catch, folks. The entire first episode was meeting the girls. Fine. They all, all of them, said how hard it was for them to date/find someone to love based on their size. Once again, that is alright. I expected that one, and definitely could have called it. Here's the kicker. These women, some of them, felt like this was their LAST CHANCE AT LOVE. Their last chance. This reality television show.
WHAT?!
As a slightly bigger girl myself, I cannot imagine this perspective from women. How in the world are men supposed to find these girls attractive when they themselves don't feel attractive? When they've got little self-esteem? When they don't consider themselves to be date-worthy? When their LAST CHANCE AT LOVE comes from a reality show?
I don't understand. As far as I know, men find women attractive based on a few things (And yes, one of those things is how you look. It gets your foot in the door.). But I have been found just as attractive at my size as my friends who are a bit lighter than I am. You wanna know why? It's how I carry myself. It is my belief that I am attractive, even if I'm not a size 0. It's my charm and wit and intelligence. I have been doing just fine where dating is concerned.
This reality show is based on all this insecurity. It's supposed to help the audience "connect" with these "real women" because they're insecure, and Fox thinks you are too. And it's a sad truth that many women *are* insecure, even if not to such extremes. I don't think that this show is a good thing to do by any means. It's not showing women that they are strong, capable, powerful, beautiful. It's showing insecure women that one guy, one overweight guy on a reality show, can act like he likes them. That this LAST CHANCE AT LOVE is their LAST CHANCE OMGZORZ!!!11! That they aren't desirable enough to go out into the world and find love on their own, without the aid of a diamond promise ring paid for by a TV network.
I can't stand this show. But Fox did the right thing, this show hits all the hot buttons. People will watch because they a) like to congratulate themselves on not being these women b) appreciate the idea of putting bigger women on television c) like reality love shows, and this one is different, or d) because of all of the controversy and drama. Smooth move, Fox. You'll make some money with this one, I should think. That doesn't mean that I think it's healthy, and it certainly doesn't do much good for women everywhere. But congratulations, Fox. You've got yet another useless reality TV show.
Sunday, 26 July 2009
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Knitting Rant.
So la dee da everyone, this is my FOURTH TIME knitting gauge tonight.
I'm supposed to get 22 sts/ 4 inches. Right.
I went through a pair of 6s and got a little more than 6 inches.
I went through a pair of 4s and STILL GOT ALMOST 6 INCHES.
I went through a pair of 3s just now and got a whopping 5 inches.
This gift, it is going to be knit using needles that are smaller than the width of the yarn.
The recommended needle size? 8s. I am dead serious.
CURSE YOU LION BRAND FISHERMEN'S WOOL AND YOUR LIES!
CURSE YOU LOOSE KNITTING HABITS!
CURSE YOU PATTERN!
GRAHHHHH. I'm thinking about just taking the 5 inches and running with it. I can swedge anything, right? Right?!
I don't need this project taking years off of my life. Also, I already miss my Addi Turbos.
If I felt it, everything will work out. Yeah. And while I'm at it, I want a million dollars and an Aston Martin. Okay guys? Okay.
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