Thursday, August 26, 2010

An Open Letter To Hipsters

Dear Hipsters,

I get that you are all about being different and all, but do you realize that with your Buddy Holly glasses, plaid shirt, and ironic mustache, you are exactly the same as.... that hipster over there?

Look, I understand that you enjoy riding around town on your fixed gear bicycle, but not for the sake of exercise, heavens no. Exercise is for mainstreamers. You ride your 1978 Schwinn or your sweet recumbent bike at a leisurely pace because... well, you're different. Who needs to change gears? “Not me,” you say, proudly pedaling along, oblivious to cars and other bikers.

The thing is? You're not different. You're an identical copy of every hipster to roam this earth. With your Dwight Schrute throw-back, mustard yellow, short-sleeved button up you throw caution to the wind, spit in the face of societal norms and wear something ugly. Whoa! Back up! 

But hey... so is that guy. And that one. And... is that a Cosby sweater I see? Another unkempt grown out beard? And someone else who hasn't showered in days? No no, those can't possibly be skinny jeans paired with a pair of impossibly bright neon sneakers, a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches and a beanie. No one would dare wear something that ugly, would they? I mean besides you and your 10 ungroomed hipster buddies? And their 10 buddies? And their 10 buddies?

Hipster culture is now so widespread that it's become the very thing it craves to defy. So, in an effort to help you hipsters continue to battle mainstream society I've come up with a list of things that no one does or has done in many years. So go ahead, take a chance. Dare to be different.

The Modern Hipster's Guide to Being Different
    - Forget the fixed gear bicycle. Everyone's doing that these days. Try an alternate mode of transportation: Horse and Buggy. Alternately: if you are skinny enough a hipster, buy a large dog. A St. Bernard or Great Dane will work. Follow this purchase with one for a pony saddle and ride your dog around town. Short on cash? Ditch the "bi" from bicycle and ride a unicycle.
    - Smoking cigarettes is so common place. Live on the edge and smoke bottle rockets. Bonus points for the hipster with the shortest fuse beore finally putting it out.
    - Knit caps made of wool or synthetic materials? Talk about stale. Yawn. Knit caps made of your own hair are the future. Take it to the next level and try your hand at weaving one from stray pubic hairs found on public urinals. Wow. Now that is a look that no one else is rockin'.
    - Three words: Coke bottle glasses. No. Literally, make your lenses from coke bottles.
    - Ironic mustaches are out. Powdered wigs are in.
    - Skinny jeans: no. Fat jeans: yes. Buy a few pairs of triple XL jeans and share them with all of your hipster buddies. No one can say you're a conformist!
    - Finally, the depressed hipster should not feel pressured into conventional suicide methods. Try something that I can guarantee no one has done in thousands of years: be eaten by a T-Rex. Simple as that. Done in 4 simple steps:
      1. Locate a T-Rex.
      2. Stuff as many pieces of raw meat as you are able down your fat jeans and sprinkle yourself with BBQ sauce. If there's anything a T-Rex hates, it's under seasoned hipsters.
      3. Mercilessly taunt the T-Rex. Usually a dig about his short arms or asking how far he can throw a baseball will work.
      4. Wait to be consumed.

There you have it. Hipsters take note. I expect to see pubic hair beanies and besaddled St. Bernards making their debut this fall.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

JACKPOT!

Okay kiddos, right now, in my possession, I have the best thing about to happen to All Ears On Me.

Over the weekend, while Hello Blogette was here visiting, I located some boxes of old pictures and papers. Among these, not only did I locate several ridiculous photos of young T with botched haircuts and missing teeth, but I also managed to locate a small notebook of miscellaneous thoughts, story ideas, poems, song lyrics and yes, accompanying music video ideas. This shit be hilarious, yo.

Even better... I located the actual 3.5" floppy disk containing all of my fictional short stories along with several saved instant message conversations and emails.

Yes. I said 3.5" floppy disk. This stuff is THAT archaic.

But wait! It gets better!

Do you feel like you are listening to an infomercial yet? Good. But just so you know, you won't be receiving any additional sham-wows by reading on.

So, even better STILL, almost ALL of my short stories revolved in one way or another around the brother's Hanson. Of the Mmmbop legacy.

And just because I love you so much, readers, I exhumed my decade old laptop with an A: drive from the depths of our storage closet as well as my old school external CD burner to transfer all of this pure comedy gold to a format compatible with my current lappy so that I may share it all with you. I share because I care.

Now, I don't want to blow my load (twhs) just yet, so I'll just give you a little taste (twss).

This is an excerpt of what I will now be calling "The T Files." Untamed, uncut, and raw (twhs)

File: "streamofconciousness.txt"
Written: 10/22/99 (Age 16)
Description: Email from yours truly to my highschool friend MB

Text:


Date: 10/22/99 10:15:56 PM Central Daylight Time
From: S*********@aol.com
To: L****************@aol.com

hi. whats up? what you wanna do tomorrow bum? i just got back from the movies avec MP et susan parce-que lauren could not go. we were gonna see superstar but we knew lauren really wanted to see it so we saw three to tango instead. it was really funny so what you wanna do tomorrow bum? i asked that already hehehe. what topic did you choose for your essay? i did the one about the narrative method. i babbled. it was 3 and a half pages long, plastic bag, plastic bag, plastic bag, plastic bag. haha tom green is cool you know what this email is a lot like that stream of conciousness thing mrs scott talked about how everything is just random etc. hehehe, im not random, im t. hahaha. so whats up in the hood g? not much here. im drinking 7 up. it is crisp, clear and refreshing. at least thats what it says on the can. did you know this can is green. and i am not on crack by the way. i got stalked by a few more police cars on the way home today. i was scared. i need to join the witness protection program because those police peoples are scary and they want to arrest me. i dont want to be anyones prison bitch so therefore id better not get arrested. beaker, aka george has not been online yet. hey you know what would be cool, if "george" actually talked like beaker. hahaha, i would laugh. how is bath time grover? is he bathing? no he cant be because you went to go take a shower.... so no. im bored m, get back online. i am sick of writing random things but there is nothing better for me to do. come on, you know you want to get back online. i think i see jasons screen name on the buddy list. ok no, i lied but still. mama mia here i go again, my my how could i resist you, mama mia does it show again my my just how much i missed you... blah blah youre back! yay!!! ok bye!!
T

Analysis:


This email clearly outlines the many reasons why I probably didn't have too many friends growing up. It's also glaringly obvious that I'm running rampant with ADD-ness, but yet it took me until the age of 26 to reach an official diagnosis. Shit, I should have forwarded this email to my psychiatrist and I would have been on Adderall YEARS ago. Let's break it down bit by bit, mkay?

Why I Had No Friends Growing Up:


1. I thought it was cool to speak in Franglish. But I was terrible at French, so the only words I replaced were conjunctions and prepositions. Conjunction junction, my ass.

2. I called the few people who did associate with me "bums." That's no way to treat your friends. Am I right or am I right, a-holes?

3. I thought the movie "Three to Tango" was really funny. Ok, truth time? I still do. "My kidneys! My kidneys! My friggen' kidneys! My kidneys!" So, sue me.

4. In the middle of sentences I have random nonsense outbursts like "Plastic bag, plastic bag, plastic bag, plastic bag!" I eventually googled this and found out that it was from this video by Tom Green.



It's terrifying how accurately that represents how I feel without my Adderall. And sometimes with my Adderall.

5. I turned my nose up at capital letters and "unnecessary" punctuation such as apostrophes. i say eff punctuation whos gonna use em in five years anyway

6. I was paranoid about being stalked by patrol cars, but claimed NOT to be on crack. Now I'm only paranoid about people stealing my identity by reading my junk mail. My shredder is my best friend (probably another reason why I have no friends... I befriend inanimate objects).

7. I referred to real life people by muppet names such as "Beaker" and "Grover." Well Big Bird and Elmo were already taken...

8. I was known to burst into song in most emails or instant message conversations. I never do that anymore. Never...

9. I had nothing better to do while my friends were offline. I should have started a blog.

10. I was a douchebag. I'm now an upstanding member of society and not at all a douchebag.

Now that I look at it, my blog isn't a whole lot better than some of these ramblings I've located. The only difference is slightly improved grammar and punctuation. And fewer instances of bursting into song.

And with that I say to you

I was singin'....

Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie
Drove the Chevy to the levy but the levy was dry
And good 'ol boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin' this will be the day that I die
This will the day that I die...

(I know all the words by heart, but I'll spare you...)

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Guest Blogger: Gizmo


On Friday, R and I took in a foster dog! His name is Gizmo and man is he cute. Cute as he may be, he definitely makes us appreciate Aries' calm, sedate, quiet nature. Gizmo is a bundle of energy and is always looking for mischief.

We are fostering through a dog rescue, so if anyone out there is in the Chicago area and is looking for a dog, Gizmo is currently up for adoption! If you are interested email me at allearsonme at gmail dot com. I would have just provided the information for the rescue we are fostering for, but I didn't want to tarnish their reputation by having my blog about bodily functions showing up in their google search. So, if you are truly interested and want to fill out an application to adopt him, I will give you all the info via email!

Anyway, I was telling Gizmo all about my blog and he made a request to be a guest blogger. How could I resist? Just look at that face! So without further ado I present to you Gizmo's Diary: Day 1.

Gizmos Diary: Day 1

Hey everyone!

Gizmo, here. Just wanted to update everyone on how things are going at my new foster home!

So, I got here yesterday morning to meet my new foster mom and my new foster brother (my foster papa was still at work, so I met him later).

My foster brother, Aries, is a really cool dog, but he is a lot older than I am so he doesn't like to play as much. We DO like to take naps together, though!

After introductions, mom set up my crate and bed and showed me the rest of the house! So many new things to explore! There's lots of new interesting things to sniff and chew on, but mom keeps saying this word I've never heard before: "no." It's okay though, when I'm chewing on "No" she usually takes it away and gives me one of my toys instead!

Aries, mom and me went out onto the deck for some fun in the sun! Aries and I got tired and fell asleep for a little while and then we came in to cool off. Whew it was hot out there!

Mom's friend N came over and she brought me a toy! A squeaky fish! Being the scientific fellow that I am, I needed to know what makes that fish squeak. So I dissected him! With my teeth! He exploded and his fluffy insides flew everywhere! It was AWESOME!!!

I saw someone named "Joey Gladstone" on the big box in the living room. I found his Mr. Woodchuck impersonation to be very offensive, so I barked at him! A lot! That got me a time out. I think mom must have a crush on this "Joey Gladstone." Why else would she defend him!?

Later, mom, Aries, N and I went for a walk! I sniffed a lot of things and peed on them! It was awesome. I found a piece of pizza on the sidewalk! I tried to eat it, but I was only able to snag a piece of pepperoni before mom lead me away...

Then, you'll never guess what happened!

Only the best thing ever! My foster papa came home and I got to meet him! I showed him how much I already love him by jumping up and down in the air and wagging my tail! Then we all went on a walk! AGAIN!

Man, this is totally the life! I get my very own bed in mom and papa's bedroom and a brand new best friend to play with. Sure, I had lot's of friends at the doggie day care, but I have people now and I get a lot more attention. Mom says she wants to teach me "manners," but I don't know what that means yet.

Anyway, more updates later! See ya!

- Gizmo

PS - Papa's toes and mama's kneecaps don't taste that great, so don't try licking them, I already tried.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Blogdentity Crisis.

I'm having a blogdentity crisis.

I've been writing this blog for about 6 months now and I need to be perfectly honest with you.

Despite the fact that I appear to know what the hell I'm talking about... I don't. I don't know what to do with my blog, in which direction to take it, or even what I ultimately want it to be. And right now it's a shapeless blob of blog-vomit all across the board.

Gross analogy, but you get it.

I guess I'm just asking you all to bear with me as I "find myself" and develop a clearer focus.

I feel like this is a completely self-serving post, so I'll throw some more random blog-vomit at you.

Sick. I have to stop using that analogy. Suggestions for a better analogy are welcome!

So, I'm watching a documentary about the human face and the role of facial expressions in modern society. They interview the family of a little girl with Moebius Syndrome. Too lazy to follow my link? Fine. Basically it's congenital paralysis of the muscles of facial expression. Without the ability to make facial expressions, how does one communicate effectively?

Later in the documentary, the family prepares for a surgery to give their little girl a smile before her first day at school. Through a facial surgery involving muscle transfers from the thigh to the corners of her mouth, she gets her smile a just a few days before school begins. It's pretty darn heartwarming.

In another segment, they discuss human lie detectors and how they use facial cues to determine if someone is lying. One such cue is the furrowing and raising of the eyebrows, a sign of "distress."

So... what if someone has Botox to their forehead? How will you ever be able to tell if they are lying? I mean, no one knows what Heidi Montag is thinking or feeling anymore after all the work she's had done. And I really could care less if Heidi Montag wants to tell a lie, but what if terrorists catch onto this and get massive Botox jobs done so that if they are captured they can lie to interrogators with greater efficacy?

I guess you'd just have to keep them prisoner, wait 3-4 months, then ask them again.

Furthermore, do you think this is why Abraham Lincoln could not tell a lie? Was his face just too wrinkly? I mean expressive? Poor Abey baby, I feel your pain. Like you, I cannot tell a lie.

I mean don't get me wrong. I can say the words. They are just not very convincing. My true feelings read like a book all over my face.

So,  go ahead and ask. Do those jeans make your ass look fat? Yes. Yes, they do.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

My Life Without A Job: Day 1

Last night, after I published my last post I stayed up for about another hour or so for absolutely no reason. I finally made it to bed at about 3:30 after debating just staying on the couch out of sheer laziness.

I woke up today at the crack of noon. I then proceeded to stay in bed for the next hour and a half catching up on my blog reading via my RSS reader on my iPhone. The rest of my day went a little like this:

Easily Distracted? This is not the place -- Ooo Something Shiny!



Three day weekends are not as exciting when you don't have a job to go to the next week.

Friday was my last day at my old job. Truthfully, I haven't quite had the chance to do a happy dance since we were frantically trying to get out of town to beat the Memorial Day weekend traffic.

The weekend was nice and low-key, saw the "in-laws," spent time at BBQs with some friends we haven't seen in a while, and we had a truly unique dining experience.

Sunday afternoon we had a few appearances to make at a different BBQ's, but I wanted to get something to eat first since I didn't anticipate finding too much vegan food at one of these cookouts in Madison, WI aka "America's Dairyland." I would have brought along my own veggie burgers or veggie dogs, but I didn't feel like buying an entire pack to eat just one and then abandon them at R's parents' house as we drive back to Chi town.

So, R took me to a place in town called Ella's Deli. I've passed by this place with R while cavorting about town over the past few years, but I've never been compelled to visit.

From the street, it looks like a big-top circus. Kind of creepy, if you ask me. Clowns are scary as shit. Don't believe me? Haven't you ever seen "IT?" "Killer Klowns from Outer Space?" There's a reason that clowns make good horror movie fodder: because like twins and octogenarians - they should seem completely innocuous, but they are actually terrifying. Because they will cut a bitch. Or turn into demon spawn and creepily appear in hotel hallways or bathtubs.

Yes, I'm aware that all my pre-conceived notions about horror movies come from The Shining, but damn if that isn't a scary book/movie.

What was I saying? Oh, right. Ella's Deli. Anyway, despite the fact that clowns creep me out, I was dying for a salad and they had 3 full pages of salads on their online menu. Awesome, where do I sign up?

We got to Ella's Deli, and what I found inside was not at all creepy. It was actually pretty damn cool, with all kinds of cool moving gizmos and gadgets a-plenty - all creating an environment entirely detrimental to someone like me with ADD, who incidentally forgot to take her medication that weekend. It happens. Especially when I'm away from home and off my normal routine...

I'm not too worried about being off the medication for a bit since I'm not working this week, but to give you a rough example of my level of distractibility: what I've written thus far in this post has taken me about 8 hours. It takes more than a few days off Adderall for my ADD to get pretty bad, but after about 2 days I have difficulty (well, more difficulty) focusing in a conversation. I make (considerably more) random noises, speak in accents, and add sound effects to most bodily actions. And I won't just do it once. I'll space out while doing it and get stuck in a loop like a broken record because I'm thinking about what the white stuff in the middle of York Peppermint Patty is made of and before I know it I've done the "wha-pshhh" whipping noise 5 times in a row to R's mom after I promised I'd keep him in line when we get home.

In fact, while you are talking I'm more likely to be thinking how cool the fraggles were than about the words coming out of your mouth. Which is why at times like these, I simply can't handle the numerous overstimulating obstacles presented by Ella's Deli.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Happy Memorial Day!

Hola.

R and I are on our way to Madison, WI to visit his parents for
the long weekend. I'd really like to make a post while I am there, but R's parents still use dial-up(I know, right?!) so I can't guarantee it, but at the very least I'll be writing even if it's in a word document to copy and paste later.

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!
 
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