avocadoexplosion!

if you don't like avocados, then you don't like life.

Facebook, I cain’t quit you. June 14, 2012

Filed under: humor,life — avocadoexplosion @ 10:45 pm
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I think we all agree here that Facebook is the worst thing to ever have happened and that we should all boycott it. Ok or maybe you don’t agree, but Facebook has been ruining my life since grad school when it came out. Thank god I wasn’t in college when it came out because I would have wasted all of my awesome college years worrying about if my status was funny enough and do I look hot enough in that profile picture, no I don’t, I have a tiny zit I didn’t see at first so now I have to change it. SHIT. SHIT SHIT SHIT.

OH HAY SEXAY, LOOKIN GOOD BAYBAY

On the one hand, it’s cool to stay in touch with people you knew in high school or middle school or when-the-hell-ever school, and on the other hand, why exactly do I need to know what Bob McDoodlybutt is doing with his life now that he’s all growed up and has a family and a job? Do I really care about the fact that he got that promotion to management at Best Buy, and do I want to see pictures of his ugly baby that, let’s face it, looks like an amorphous drooly blob? Will I ever see this person in real life again? Is Facebook real life now? These are the burning questions that plague me every day, people. EVERY DAY.

No, your baby is super cute. Looks exactly like you.

Yet somehow I can’t just LEAVE Facebook or not look at it or whatever. I find myself bored with work in the middle of the day, and here’s the really stupid part- I work from home, so I can get up and go do whatever I want to in my house rather than look at Facebook but instead I LOOK AT FACEBOOK LIKE A FRIGGING MORON. I have trouble sleeping in the middle of the night and wake up and look at Facebook because it’s a hell of a lot easier than getting up and doing work. I am out to dinner and when I go to the bathroom, I check my phone for those stupid red circles with numbers in them that means that someone liked my status that I spent wayyyyyy too long thinking about.

So I sit there and read people’s dumb status updates about eating a bowl of oatmeal and drinking coffee in the morning (OH GOOD ONE. REALLY ORIGINAL AND INFORMATIVE. I’M SO GLAD I KNOW THAT ABOUT YOU NOW. HOPE YOU HAVE A REGULAR BOWEL MOVEMENT AFTERWARDS AND POST ABOUT IT TOO, WITH PICTURES PREFERABLY) and look at pictures of their kids (STILL UGLY, AT LEAST UNTIL THEY HIT 2 YEARS OLD OR ARE MY BEST FRIEND’S BABY ISABELLE, SHE GETS A PASS BECAUSE SHE HAS ALWAYS BEEN A BEAUTIFUL MAGICAL BABY PRINCESS, NO I’M NOT BIASED) and get invited to events that I will never ever go to because I HAVE TO LOOK AT FACEBOOK NOT GO TO YOUR EVENT. THANKS. And then I hate myself afterwards for even checking the news feed. What do I think is going to happen here? That suddenly I’m going to get a private message from Ryan Adams saying that he saw my hot-ass profile picture and has decided to leave Mandy Moore for me and will be here in 5 and a half hours just as soon as he finishes this show and flies down from New York? I, um…that’s not anything I’ve thought about…obviously. NO. That is never going to happen just like nothing ever happens on Facebook, except for, of course, overplayed memes. I get it, that blocky white all caps font is funny, especially when paired with a picture of a cat or when it says “What my friends think I do/What my mom thinks I do/What I really do.” PLEASE LET IT DIE NOW.

It really is worth being on Facebook if only to be notified of high school yearbook pictures of James Hetfield.

Yet again…I sit there and scroll through the news feed all the time, and post my status updates that I’m sure a lot of people don’t think are funny, and post dumb pictures of my cat and dog. Whatever, they’re totally cuter than blobby babies who don’t even have FUR. Who cares about pictures of things that don’t have fur, not me.

THAT’S RIGHT, THAT’S A CROTCH SHOT OF MY FAVORITE CAT EVER. ABSORB IT. REVEL IN IT. BUT NOT TOO MUCH. OK THAT’S ENOUGH.

YEAH I KNOW THAT PINK SCARF ON MY DOG’S HEAD IS FUNNY BECAUSE HE LOOKS LIKE A PEASANT WOMAN. HE’S A BOY CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE THAT, HE’S WEARING PINK AND HE’S A BOY!!!!!!

AS LONG AS WE’RE SHARING PET PICTURES, LET’S GO ONE STEP FURTHER AND TALK ABOUT MY FISH STEVE PERRY. HERE, HE’S SEARCHING FOR HIS OWN POOP SO HE CAN TRY TO EAT IT. THAT’S ACTUALLY TRUE, I’M NOT LYING. HE TRIES TO EAT HIS OWN POOP.

Here is the reason I tell myself I can’t delete my account: I have a band that has a Facebook page that I update very very inconsistently because I get nervous when speaking for the four other people who are also in the band and seriously, what else is there to say that hasn’t been said, and what if I say something stupid that makes people mad and makes them hate us. Why yes I do overanalyze everything that I do in life. Why do you ask? Also, I tell people about our shows pretty much only through Facebook. And you’re supposed to be able to create “buzz” online or whatever the hell it is. Has this worked for me yet? No. Do I even know how to do this? No. Do I need someone to do this for me and then delete my personal account so I can actually get things done? Yes probably. Will I actually delete my account when it comes down to it?

NO DUH OF COURSE NOT

Because I like posting idiotic pictures of my cat and dog and scrolling through the mundane shit that makes up our everyday lives for some weird reason. And because I work from home and have very limited interaction with humans throughout the day other than on gchat, so it makes me feel like I am not the only person alive in a post-apocalyptic world.

It’s just….so bright out here. I haven’t been outside in a while. You’re the first person I’ve seen in at least a month. I haven’t eaten anything except ramen and boxed wine for 3 weeks. Oh, I stink? Yeah we don’t have showers in the post-apocalypse, so that makes sense. I mean, I don’t take showers anyways on principle, but I appreciate your feedback.

And just because I feel like it, here is a list (a list on this blog? shocking, I know) of my top 5 most hated things on Facebook:

1. Posts of song lyrics that are not meant to be ironic or funny. It doesn’t make you deep, and it’s cliche as shit. Although I believe in the power of music to connect people, I don’t need to read the lyrics to some awful Dashboard Confessional song that you think perfectly describes your shitty day. Whoever the songwriter for Dashboard Confessional is (no, I don’t care enough to google his name) wrote those songs about HIS shitty day, not yours. If you want to post Iron Maiden lyrics, that’s a different story. But I still don’t think you’re as phenomenally fantastic as Bruce Dickinson, you hack. UNSUBSCRIBE

BE STILL MY HEART

OK IT’S STILL, GOOD JOB

2. Half-nakey pictures of girls who have daddy issues. Men, I know you enjoy these types of pictures, but as a woman, all I can say is honey, please go to the self-esteem store and buy some. Nobody wants to see your drunky-face sloppy side-boob hanging out of your $10 Forever 21 dress. And for REAL real, nobody wants to see you “modeling” whatever it is that you’re “modeling” when you’re posing nude in a field of wheat or maybe it’s quinoa, I don’t know what type of grain it is exactly, for that photographer that you probably slept with later. If you’re not actually pursuing a career in modeling, acting, or music where you need to have those pictures, it’s sad, not sexy. UNSUBSCRIBE

OH HAY IS THAT WHEAT CHAFING YOU?

3. I think we’ve been over this one…baby pictures. I’m not talking the occasional picture or two because, contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart and actually like seeing pictures of my friends’ children in moderation. I’m saying you’re littering the feed with multiple pictures of your child every single day. UNSUBSCRIBE

4. People who have some sort of cause that they keep throwing your face over and over and OVER AND OVER AND OVER. Jesus, give it a rest. I donate to whom I want when I please (and I actually do, so don’t give me any of that shit), and you pushing me to do so MAKES ME HATE YOUR FACE. SO MUCH.  Also, “REPOST IF YOU KNOW SOMEONE WHO HAS CANCER AND CAN MAKE IT AND ALL OF THE WORLD’S CANCER BETTER BY MAKING PEOPLE AWARE OF CANCER THROUGH THIS FACEBOOK REPOST BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY THE WORLD IS NOT AWARE ENOUGH OF CANCER” pisses my shit off like nothing else. UNSUBSCRIBE

Yes, it’s a meme. SO WHAT, SUE ME

5. Anything that posts for you through another app. I don’t care that you’ve been listening to Katy Perry on Spotify (wait a second, yes I do care- UNSUBSCRIBE BASED ON PRINCIPLE) or that you bought a cow on Farmville or that you posted some craft project that you’ll never do to Pinterest.  Cool story, bro.  UNSUBSCRIBE

OH KATY YOU ARE SO THOUGHT PROVOKING AND COMPLICATED, I WISH WE WERE BFFS

There are so many more. So many more that I can’t post and so much that I can’t go into without alienating most of the people that I know and, heaven forbid, decreasing my friend numbers on Facebook, which is the worst. The. Worst. WHAT?! I WENT FROM 867 TO 864 IN ONE NIGHT? WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!?!?!?!

I know I’m part of the problem. CURSES ON YOUR FAMILY, ZUCKERBERG

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A booty ain’t nothin’ but a butt. You heard it here first. October 27, 2011

Filed under: humor — avocadoexplosion @ 3:36 pm
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Here is a list of what I’ve been thinking about lately.  You will see by looking at it that I don’t think about things that are of huge consequence, but if you think I care then you would be wrong.

  • Animals.  Specifically, why do my animals follow me everywhere.  I have four pets.  One cat lives upstairs because she hates the rest of them so I don’t see her often, but there are two cats and one dog downstairs.  For anyone who was wondering, this is too many pets.  Yes, I said it.  All three of the downstairs animals are up my ass at every moment of the day.  I can’t even lock myself in a room for five minutes away from them because they whine and scratch at the door.  Sometimes they get in fights trying to get into the bathroom to be with me while I’m pooping, which I don’t appreciate.  I spend half of my time tripping over at least one animal and sometimes all three.  I don’t know why they like me so much.  If someone yelled at me as much as I yell at them, I would hate that person and probably plan ways to kill them in my free time, but it seems like all my yelling at their shenanigans just makes them love me more.  Also, aren’t cats supposed to be antisocial?  I want a refund.

I made this picture at work:

That’s a steaming pile of poop in the righthand corner next to Buckley.  I don’t think it’s necessary to explain why that’s there.

I work for a very un-corporate corporation where we make paintings like this about what we see all day when we’re at home.  Here’s another one that my team leader did:

Yes, that is Jerry Springer.  The shoes are supposed to be the shoes that the women on Springer take off before they fight each other and pull each other’s hair.  I’m not joking.  Also, why do they only allow mutants on that show.  More importantly, why does my team watch Springer on a regular basis is the real question here.

  • Debt.  I am out of it.  It feels like the best thing that has ever happened to me.  People always told me it would feel like this, but I didn’t believe them.  It’s like hot chocolate with marshmallows made of unicorn shit.  Everyone knows that unicorn shit is a delicacy.  HUSH.
  • Cleanliness.  I have started to be cleaner, but there are still some things that need work.  Like the other day, I left a bottle of wine uncorked.  There was a little still in there when I was cleaning up after a few days (yes, it takes me a few days to clean up anything), so I was like cool I’ll just finish it off.  I poured it into a glass and went off to do something else, not thinking to look into the glass before I took a big gulp of it.  A gulp that contained a black fly and probably 10 fruitflies.  I spewed wine all over the floor and the worst thing is that when I went to clean it up, the fly was still wriggling and alive, dying slowly in wine spit.  Ugh.  I think I drank all the fruitflies and also the wine tasted like vinegar at that point.  Next time I will look into the glass before I drink.
  • Grocery stores.  I will kill all of them.  Grocery stores are literally the worst place in the universe, even before flea markets.  I hate them so much that I will go hungry for days and just eat flour and uncooked rice before I make myself go into one.  Where I live, there is a Food Lion, Harris Teeter, and a hippy grocery store.  I hate all of them equally for different reasons, which is unfortunate because food is one of my all-time favorite items.  They also contain weird shit that I didn’t even know existed, like this:

CHICKEN FEET. WHY. WHO IS EATING THESE.

And this:

THIS IS A SEA CREATURE I KNOW IT

What is that?  Is that an octopus?  Who is eating octopus on a regular basis and buying it at the Food Lion?

  • Protests.  There are a lot of protests going on lately.  There is no way I could ever go to one, and I will tell you why right now.  One time I went to a George Clinton show at the House of Blues in Myrtle Beach, which is tiny, and I almost hyperventilated.  Unless I am drunk, I will not even think about going anywhere with crowds like that.  The only good thing to come out of that George Clinton show was I heard a song that goes “a tail ain’t nothing but a long booty and a booty ain’t nothing but a butt”.  I don’t know how people get away with writing songs like that.  I guess if you look like George Clinton then you can do anything.  I certainly could not pull that off.
 

it’s time to face the facts. April 29, 2010

Filed under: humor — avocadoexplosion @ 9:41 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I’ve realized I have to accept it. At only 27 years of age, I’m a crazy cat lady and there’s no getting around it.

Now, I’ve been in denial for a while about this, but I just can’t run away from it anymore. Believe me, I’ve tried to take steps to remedy the situation, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re batshit crazy about your cats. I only have two of them, and I plan to keep it that way so I don’t make the problem worse…unless of course my boyfriend and I move in together at some point…then we will have three- my two, and his one. If this happens, he wants to start referring to them as our “nightmare of cats,” which seems a pretty apt moniker to me. Their litterbox is certainly going to be a nightmare to clean and pay for. “How did you guys lose all your money and end up homeless?” “Kitty litter.”

I blame this all on him anyways…when I was single, I made sure not to mention my cats too much to anyone lest they pin me as what I really am. I actually wanted to have a love life, and I realized this is impossible if people think you are too obsessed with your feline friends. But NOW, I’m with someone who is just as crazy about his cat as I am about mine. We sit around and talk about how funny they are and the weird things they do like run at the speed of light from the room for no apparent reason, and post videos like this on each other’s facebook pages:

or pictures like this:

SIMBAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

or websites like this: http://www.catswhothrowupgrass.com/kill.php.

You get the point.

The whole i can has cheezburger bit doesn’t particularly help either. It looks like cats are becoming socially acceptable to talk about in public, and this is only feeding my addiction, people. You saw the blog post I wrote about how Buckley poops everywhere (or maybe you didn’t, in which case HERE it is). And I am appalled to say that sometimes when we go out, I have a few beers and end up mimicking her IN BARS, IN PUBLIC. She is very vocal and has a really high tiny lady voice and says things like brrrrRRRR? and frrrrp! and Gatsby, my other cat, says things like wAAAAAooooOOOOOw, and it is really fun to make those noises when you are tipsy or even completely sober.  A little TOO fun.

I have so many cat stories it’s deplorable. I make myself sick just thinking about it. I guess it’s like when people have kids and they can’t stop saying things on facebook like “Little Johnny just went to the doctor for his first checkup! He is 8.34895234098757 pounds and is eating pureed carrots and is a very healthy boy albeit the fact that he is turning quite orange!* We are so thankful for this wonderful blessing in our lives!” You know what? I’m not thankful for it, AT ALL, because you’re littering my facebook page with baby information that I don’t want to see, EVER.* Then again, I guess you don’t want to see pictures of my cats spooning on the couch or hear about how Buckley is poop-obsessed, but I could care less. I WILL DO WHAT I WANT AND YOU WILL LIKE IT.

Facehole sucks anyways. I’m pretty sure nobody ever has anything to say on it except things about their babies and LOL I WAS SO DRUNK THE OTHER NIGHT!!!!! SHOUT OUT TO MY GIRLZ MISTY AND CRYSTAL AND AMBER LOLLLLLLLZZZZZ!!!!!!! LUV U GIRRRRRRLLLLLZ!!!!!! Is that what people say on facehole? I just made that up just now on the spot. Wow I am good at writing dialogue, I should probably write screenplays for a living.

*Note: I actually turned an orangish hue when I was a baby because my mom fed me too many carrots and sweet potatoes. I haven’t heard of this happening to anyone else except Jessica Simpson:

aghhhhhh why am i so orange?!?!?!?! is it because i ate too many carrots?!?!?!?!

*Note: I only mind status updates about people’s kids- I do not mind pictures of my friends’ babies, mostly because I’m a pretty visual person and I like pictures of almost anything except for toenail fungus and dead zebras. If you post either of those, you can be sure I will have something bad to say about it. You will probably have a blog post written about you, come to think of it. How did this post about cats end up being about facehole and babies too? How did this note and post get to be so long? Ah, life and its little mysteries…I don’t understand them, I just write about them.

Here are two pictures of Buckley, shamelessly posted for your viewing pleasure:

I see that you want to use your sink, and I DON'T CARE!

Buckley has her glamour shots taken at the mall.

 

Waffle Day 2010. March 29, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — avocadoexplosion @ 8:41 pm
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First off, I have to tell you that I just peed twice in 10 minutes. Not only do I have the smallest bladder of anyone I know, my drinking habits are similar to other people’s breathing habits. If I don’t drink things on a pretty constant basis, I start to feel like a prune or a dried apricot or one of those pieces of petrified poop that I found behind one of my plants the other day when I moved it because Buckley is really fond of pooping in all the plants and misses sometimes. This doesn’t make me happy to find poop in or around my plants, but there’s really nothing I can do because Buckley does what she wants and doesn’t give a damn what I think about it. The other day I even saw her scooting her butt across the carpet like dogs do sometimes. She is poop-obsessed and it. is. gross.

she's thinking about where she's going to take her next dump. sneaky kitten.

Secondly, I like to append “2010” onto the end of events to make them seem more important. For example, this weekend Riley and I had Waffle Day 2010, wherein we (by we I mean Riley) made a bunch of delicious waffles and then we ate them and drank 5 bajillion cups of coffee and ate about a pound of bacon and then fell asleep for a whole three hours like five-year-olds. I guess it was the enormous amounts of syrup that did us in.

The good news is, after Saturday’s Sleepfest 2010 (you see what I did there?), Riley and I got a lot of work done on some songs and things seem to be coming together as far as the bandy band goes. This is usually the time of year I start to get really clogged up in the sinus department and can’t breathe much less sing, but miraculously, I’ve managed to avoid that so far this year. The rock gods must be smiling upon me, or at least yelling good-natured obscenities in my direction.  Maybe they’re even waving the finger at me…if I’m lucky.

I have to pee again. It’s like this is Peefest 2010 but that already happened back in January, duh. You can’t have two events in the same year with the same name. Don’t you know ANYTHING?

yayyyyy i pooped in another plant yayyyyyy i will never use your stupid litterbox ever yayyyyy

 

There’s cat poop in my bathtub, and I don’t know what to do about it. February 2, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — avocadoexplosion @ 7:55 pm
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Two things:

1. When I woke up this morning, my hair looked like this:

2. My eyes are astonishingly bad, so when I went to take a shower, I definitely thought one of the cats had pooped in the tub before I put my glasses on to check.  They do some inappropriate things, but they don’t usually poop outside of their catbox.  Turned out to be a piece of bark from one of my potted plants.  Strangely enough, Buckley likes to poop in that particular plant- this is the exception to the no pooping outside the box rule.  Coincidence?  Whatever.

If you haven’t heard by now, forming a band that’s worth anything is hard.  I posted an ad on craigslist two weeks ago for a bassist and drummer and have had one response from a bassist and three from drummers.  Here’s part of one email:

“uhh…i have my own transportation, i like to drink and party..theres a time and place for everything like practice and partying.”

You’re right, my little bassist friend.  There’s also a time and place for stating such things.  It’s usually not in emails to potential band members you’ve never met.  Also why was transportation immediately followed by drinking?  This worries me, especially if you ever drive my equipment around to shows.  If you even think about touching my Korg, I will preemptively cut your fingers off and you’ll never play bass again.  I am not joking, mister.

A very frustrating part of band/record-making is that GOOD GOD IT TAKES FOREVER.  I mean who knew?  Ok probably a lot of people knew.  I didn’t know.  But now I do know, and it makes me want to pull my hair out.  I have guitar tracks that have to be redone once we get a drummer, bass tracks laid down by my guitarist, and no master vocals on anything except one song.  AGHHHHHH.  HURRY UP!!!!!!!!!!!

HEY.  Do you want to see some pictures from the studio?  I knew you did.  These were taken at Revival Studio in Pittsboro, owned by David Kovach.  That’s Riley in the pictures.  He’s a guitarist.  You might be able to tell by the guitar he’s holding.  If not, you are probably stupid and we can’t be friends.  I know you’re disappointed, but you’ll get over it with the help of a few Lifetime movies and half-gallon tubs of chocolate chip cookie dough.  I bet you watch Oprah, don’t you?  Philistine.