Friday, November 30, 2012

Life is funny. In a fat person falling off a chair kind of way.

I've lived in Wheaton my whole life. It's a quiet town. No one ever really gets stabbed or shot or attacked here. And if they do, it's cause for a security overhaul and it probably won't happen again for another century. We also have some of the best schools in the nation, including our high schools and community colleges. We are affluent, safe and smart.

Sounds pretty great, right?


But, after living here for all 19 years of my short little life, I have come to a bit of a problem that comes with not leaving to go away to school. You see, I attend the local community college and still live at home. Many people went away to college. Which, I'm not too butt hurt over. But then, a lot of them stayed here. Out of those that stayed, I can safely say I like less that 15% of them. And of those that I don't like, 94% probably have a few sour things to say about me too. But this isn't such a bad thing right? I mean, we don't see each other every day!



It's not a problem as much as it is a constant reminder of how fucked up people are and how much more tangled up we become in each other when we're all stuck in this town where we don't have to worry about getting killed or about our next meal. Since all our basic needs are fulfilled (some, over-fulfilled) we have time to be social. WITH ALL THE SAME FUCKING PEOPLE.

All throughout high school, I was friends with similar groups. We weren't the losers or the popular kids. We were more in the middle. We were the art kids, the kids that played video games and skated and kinda did their own thing. But we all knew each other and probably hung out with each other at some point in time. And now that some of us have left to college, the rest of us are left here to awkwardly exist alongside each other, not sure where we stand.

For example:

You see your ex boyfriend's best friend at the store and you have no idea if you should say hi or not. You and him had no problem, but for all you know your ex twisted the fuck out of the story and made you into some kind of she-devil. So you look down and realized you're in baggy-ass Xbox pj pants and you're like, "Son of a bitch, I look like a bag lady." So you don't say hi and you just look away awkwardly.

But then...


And then you don't know what to say so you kind of make an awkward honking/growling noise and then go and hide in the frozen food section only to end up at self-check out the same time as him. And you pretend to be super interested in what the machine has to say about you not bagging your loaf of french bread and 6 packages of cookies.

(Surprisingly, this did not happen to me. But it's the exact kind of thing that would happen to me.)

The part that really irks me, to the point of having to blog about it, is not the awkward greetings or the weird pass-bys in the the hallway at school, but when old friends and acquaintances become friends. What irks me more? When they start dating. Like, for example, my ex boyfriend's best lady-friend is now dating my other ex boyfriend. Bitch, we had a drunk heart to heart on a kitchen floor about this guy. And how he ROYALLY FUCKED me over. But do you care? No. Look at your life, look at your choices.

I don't know, guys. It's times like these I wish I could move away and go to school in Montana or Portland or somewhere where I don't really know anyone and none of my ex boyfriends are still dicking around and my ex friends aren't lurking in the places I like to shop. Or my ex boyfriend's ex fiancee and her sugar daddy never come into my work.

Am I asking too much?

I really am.

I could just unfriend them on facebook...

Who am I kidding, I fucking live off this shit.

With love and all the brutal honesty I can muster (which is a lot),
Princess Squibby

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Why Nerdy Guys are Better Than "Bad Boys"

So, if you've read the infamous (not really) post I wrote called "Why I Don't Trust Toasters", you'll know that I find a lot of random things I write in the memos section of my phone. Now that I actually started this blog, I have a whole memo folder just for my ideas. Which come to me in dreams, from other peoples' web pages and conversations I have with people. I type them up and then promptly forget about them. Hours, days, months later, I find them and think, "Well, that's a shitty idea. Where would I even take that?" This is one of those ideas. I'm using it because I am bored and trying not to think about the inevitable break-down I'm gonna have this week about how I'm way too busy for my own good and that I'm going to fail at my job and school and feeding my friend's cats while she's on vacation (Katie, if you read this, I'm being dramatic. I swear I won't kill Tango and Sprinkles. Unless Sprinkles thwacks me again with her paws...)


I've always had a history with the nerdier type of guys. And, to clarify, there is a difference between nerds and geeks and dorks. Go look it up. I'm not gonna do it for you. Take my word for it.

Anyway, history. I've always been kind of a nerd myself. I really got into anime and manga in middle school and still go to the annual anime convention around here. I got into video games in high school and was able to keep up with the boys about all the latest games and also argue why the entire Call of Duty/ FPS franchise is the biggest load of horse shit. I've dated 4 guys (including Boyfriend). All nerds. All gamers. All awkward and weird and pretty fun to be around (while we were dating. I'm not on great terms with my exes now. But oh well.) And, fun fact about me, if you take all of the first letters of their last names and rearrange them, it spells FUCK. It's things like this that make my life worth blogging about.


So, why nerds? Girls, listen up, because your days of shitty relationships can be made less shitty if you take what you learn here with you in your lives.

1. Nerds are smart! Why is this good?
    a. You can have a real conversation with them. Not just total dribble that rots your brain.
    b. They can help you on your school-work. (Usually without being condescending asses.)
    c. They can teach you about things you didn't even know about. (Video games. Funny porn. Internet memes. I know this all sounds stupid, but I can't think of good things right now...)
2. Nerds are usually nice because, in our society, jocks and the Grecian body type are of a high value, therefore, nerds haven't had things just handed to them on a silver platter. Why is this good?
    a. They won't treat you like shit. They don't feel entitled to you and your body.
    b. They are generous in bed. Again, they aren't overly-entitled assfucks, so they're willing to give. (Side note: DO NOT ABUSE THIS. All relationships are a two-way street. But, keep in mind, nerds can be easy to please and are open to new things. So, give equally.)
3. Nerds are usually not really into sports. And if they are, it's just one or two. So, you aren't gonna get forced to watch games. If you're into sports, introduce them. Chances are there's a video game where you can play the sport and you can play together.
4. Nerds aren't vain. And so, they won't give a fuck about how shitty your hair looks or how baggy and purple your fat pants are. (Disclaimer: This is NOT saying nerds aren't physically attractive. They just care more about their KDR than their hair.)
5. Nerds wear glasses. If you don't think that's sexy, you're weird.
6. Nerds are EVERYWHERE! Girls, does this sound familiar?
"Ehmahgawdd. i cant find a good guy lyke enwhere!"
 "where hav all dahh gewd guys gon?"
 "fuck boyz! offa dem 4evah!!"
(That was extremely difficult for me to write. I suffer for this blog. Even though only 10 people read it.)

You aren't looking you idiots! You want the "bad boy", right? A guy who you can change and make into a better person. A diamond in the rough. Well, in so many words, you're very dumb. You CANNOT change people. Or at least force them to be what you want them to be. Everyone changes over time, but don't sit around waiting for your bumble-fuck boyfriend to become the boy of your dreams. 94% of the time, it doesn't work. And, if you're reading this blog, you're obviously not the lucky type, so just break up with the loser and UPGRADE.

I really don't understand why girls look to be abused, and ignored, and treated like shit. Unless you're a mega-super-uber bitch, you deserve better. Shut your fucking mouths about how shitty your boyfriend is. Look, I know boyfriends aren't perfect. I'll be the first to admit, I complain about Boyfriend a lot. But I do it to people, not the internet. And, to the people I do complain about him to, I say the good things he does too. Like today, I had a shitty morning so he took me out to lunch at a yummy Greek place. Because, even though he's kind of a butt hole sometimes, he's more than 93.4% not butt hole.

So, take my advice, which is backed by experience, go find your own nerd. They're super great.

Moral of the story: Blog posts I take from my phone memos usually end up being shitty. Sorry guys, just know that I love you for getting this far.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Princess Squibby's Official Dubstep Rant

*Please note, this is a rant about how dubstep SUCKS. Please don't read if you like this shit.*

Dubstep, the recently popular genre of music that blares from teenagers and young adults speakers all over white America, is, in so many words, complete, total and utter shit.

"P. Squib!" you cry, "How can you make such a large assumption about a genre?"
"Well, reader," I say, "I love that you shortened my name into a ghetto fabulous version. And for that, I'll answer your question in the following blog post."

First, a brief overview of dubstep I copied&pasted (and actually read) from wikipedia:
Dubstep (/ˈdʌbstɛp/) is a genre of electronic dance music that originated in South London, United Kingdom. Its overall sound has been described as "tightly coiled productions with overwhelming bass lines and reverberant drum patterns, clipped samples, and occasional vocals".[1]
The earliest dubstep releases date back to 1998 and were darker, more experimental, instrumental dub remixes of 2-step garage tracks attempting to incorporate the funky elements of breakbeat, or the dark elements of drum and bass into 2-step, which featured as B-sides of single releases.

Blah blah. Just so we're all on the same page.

Now, onto why it sucks more dick than a girl with daddy issues. (This is the rant bit. Please note my rants are long, cuss filled and well researched.)

I would like to thank dubstep for feeding the vapid, faceless monster that music is becoming today. *slow clap* Bravo you assbags. Why is it vapid and faceless? Mainstream dubstep is a tool for tripping, drinking and all other means of getting fucked up. You listen to it when you're lost in a sea of mind-altering substances. The "sick" bass drops and "nasty" breakdowns are supposed to sound "fuckin' dirty as hell" when you're raging. Cool for you, but it just feels like I'm getting punched in the face by some asshole who has oodles of money to buy all the expensive mixing equipment and minimal talent to use it. Does anybody know what boiled down dubstep is? It's just thick beats laid over each other with a bass drop around 55 seconds in, syncopated rhythms, with tuplets, and  ridiculous amounts of bass. (Why yes, I did read that off wiki.) I could do that if I had a shit-ton of money just laying around and a day to learn what all the buttons did.

This music cannot stand on its own. It doesn't mean anything. Each song sounds exactly the same, and yes, I have listened to this shit. I'm subjected to it all the time. The only way I can tell the difference between songs are the sound bites, which add nothing to the song except maybe means to title the fucking thing. Let alone being able to tell who mixed it. It's just a series of "SCKREEEEEEE!"s and "WUBWUBWOOOOMPPP"s. To counter an argument someone once said to me, yes, many kinds of music are synonymous with doing drugs and partying. Take one of my favorite bands, The Grateful Dead. Everyone at all of their 32,000 live performances were some kind of high. But, take away the drugs, and the music is still something. The lyrics are poetry, the melodies float through your head all day and the rhythms make you wanna kelp dance. Not only is the music great, but there's a face you can put to the Dead. You think of Jerry Garcia, and Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh, Pigpen, Bob Weir. All hippie guys with names and faces. I couldn't tell you what these guys looked like. I only know this Skrillex fucker has a part of his head shaved because everyone is doing is now and they've referenced him. Not even sure it's a dude... (Googled the name. He's a guy. With nasty long hair.)

Go listen to a Dead song, I'll bet you you'll enjoy it without the aid of drugs. Next, go listen to a dubstep song. A couple hours later, I bet you wouldn't really be able to tell me anything about it. You couldn't count the beat, hum the melody or anything. It. Is. Nothing.

Now, to clear something up, I do not hate the guys (I refuse to say artists) that create this bullshit. My view is that every kind of music has its place. Dubstep just needed to stay where it came from. In these rich boys' garages and in underground clubs. Not blasting over every Jim, Joe and Jillian's ihome on the fucking block. I even feel sorry for these guys. They created this music to be underground and cool and weird, but all the little white kids with their need for the next new thing and their love for drugs, had to come in and fuck it up.

Which brings me to the thing I dislike most about dubstep. Can you guess what it is? I bet you can.

The goddamn, musically-inept, socially-desperate, usually-fucked-up-on-drugs white fans.

You know who you are. And, if you're still reading this, you've probably already sent a flaming comment to me in some way or another. Thumbs up to you 'cause 1. You're a trooper for taking this much abuse and 2. You're comments will be ignored/deleted. This is my blog and I can do what I want. Ha. Ha.

All in all, from my basic psychology 101 perspective, I probably hate dubstep because it has been shoved down my throat by my peers. The same way kids end up hating religion 'cause their parents made them go to church. But, unlike religion, this is a fad and will fade out by, my prediction is, next summer.

If it doesn't, I'm going to move to Canada. They have a lot better music. And socialized health care.

Closing notes: Obama2012, dubstep sucks, Canada is cool.


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Spring Break!...?

It's finally my college's spring break! Everyone has already had theirs so, like most of the students at CoD, our break is a late bloomer. While all the other kids are out drinking and partying and doing drugs that have more nicknames than a vagina, I'm doing other things.

List of other things:
-Watching anime online
-Making my steampunk cosplay
-Animal Crossing
-Getting heat rash from my heating pad
-Chilling with boyfriend
-Seeing my friends(?)
-Internet. Forever

Although this isn't how I expected my freshman year spring break to be, I'm honestly not that mad. I'm a boring/lazy person and I'm most comfortable in my bed. What happens into my bed (ie. boyfriend, lappy, my cat, you), I am more than happy to have join me. 

I'm big on resting and relaxing, but I also have plans for this week. Like, taking Boyfriend out on a date because I recently got paid. And going to the movies with my mom. Doing homework. Not dying. You know, normal stuff.

Some may say I'm wasting my youth. That I should be going out and partying and doing all the things teenagers do. But to that I say, "Screw you, I have the entire internet to my disposal. I'm happier than a pig in shit."

Unless y'all know of a crazy party. In which case, I can put my dance pants on faster than you can say "Dance pants on."

Monday, March 26, 2012

Sharing a bed with Boyfriend is like sharing a bed with SATAN

Last night I slept over at Boyfriend's house. This is an artist's (my) rendition of him. He's not that weird looking in real life. I promise...

Anyway, I slept over. We slept in the guest bedroom. It has a queen size bed, so you'd think me, 5'4", 115 lbs and him, 6'1" and 145 lbs, would fit comfortably, right?


It was extremely uncomfortable in every way. I had forgotten to bring my pillow, which is a major factor in my discomfort. I am a creature of extreme habit and the smallest thing can really irritate me. So, when you put me in a different bed, with a shitty pillow and the most fidgety mother fucker this side of the meth lab, you've got a recipe for disaster.

I got into bed, expecting Boyfriend to come in within the hour. When that didn't happen, I began to get very irritated with the fan. I turned it on because Boyfriend can't sleep without a fan on. Considerate, right? But, in those two hours before he came in, that fan was my mortal enemy. I wanted nothing more than to throw it out the window. The constant whirrrrrrrring of the fan grinded on every nerve I had.

When Boyfriend finally came in, he tried very hard to be quiet. Which was nice but he has the limb awareness of a labrador puppy. He climbed into bed and I finally thought I could fall asleep with the security of my warm, sweet, kind... cold... fidgety... twitchy... You get the picture. The poor thing couldn't sleep either. We were stuck in a hellish bed of shuffling, running into each other and a rising fury against our minds that they wouldn't let us fall into the blissful world of sleep.

Around 4 am, I finally fell into a deep enough sleep to dream. I had weirdo dreams. And I woke up constantly.

Morning rolled around and I got up, peed, ate, showered. While I was showering, Boyfriend hops in, says the water is too hot, and threatens that, if I don't turn it down, he'll fart on me.

Isn't love grand?

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Cannibalism, yay or nay?

Disclaimer: I have never eaten a human being. Nor to I plan to, ever.

You know it's crossed your mind, "What would people taste like?" And if it hasn't, it has now. So, I'll give you a moment to ponder this...

You done? Okay.

For the record, I am not a cannibal. I do not plan to eat a person ever. Unless, I'm been put in a situation where I have to. Like, a life or death situation.You and a group of people survive a plane crash in northern Alaska and I bet you, my reader, that the first thing to cross your mind will be, "Who are we gonna eat first?" I know right now I will not be eaten first. Why? Because I'm thin and pumped up with lots of immune-suppressant drugs. I'd taste awful!

You'd eat the fat guy first right? WRONG! He'd taste awful. He'd be all fat. He'd be much better later on, when your own fat supplies have been depleted by your body eating itself. No, you'll wanna eat the normal guy. He's on the heavier side, but he has muscle too. And, he will most likely have good marbling. Which is ideal for a cut of meat. And, naturally, when I crash in a plane I will most definitely have a canister of Lawry's Seasoning Salt. Which makes everything delicious.

Moral of the Story: Cannibalism is wrong. Do NOT do it. Unless you have to. People will judge you. And maybe ostracize you. But I will still love you. Because I would do the same thing.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Why I Don't Trust Toasters

This is a long running joke. A joke of which I am the butt of. The story goes that, one day, I was looking through my memos on my phone so I could clear out all the mumbo jumbo. It was all normal stuff, "Gift ideas for bf: -boob noodles -bacon ice cream -pink sparkly dildo?", cute quotes I've found and a lot of important info like my pin number. But there was one memo I did not remember typing. It simply said, "Why i dont trust toasters."

There were a few things wrong with this:
1. I usually have very good grammar.
2. I didn't remember writing it.
3. I was worried that Past Me knew something about toasters Present Me did not.

I started to think about it, and I came to the realization that, I really didn't trust toasters. I've actually had a fairly turbulent relationship with toasters all my life! Past Me, you were probably sleep typing, but at least you didn't text our ex boyfriend. So, I thank you for bringing this to my attention. On the up and up, this is why I don't trust toasters:

As a lass, my family had an Oster Toaster (when I could finally read, I found this hilarious and said it constantly for a week). The hilarity ended on the day Oster burned my toast. I was stunned. Having set the dial to medium, I expected beautiful golden-brown toast.

I was wrong.

Oster betrayed me, and from that moment on, I was suspicious of all toasters. Continental breakfasts are a nerve racking experience for me, since I can't drink milk for cereal, I'm almost always forced to use the hotel's toaster. A few years back, we got rid of that deceitful son of a bitch Oster and bought a new, shiny, four-slot model. I was excited to renew my trust in the counter-top appliance. But, as you can imagine, I was terribly fooled. My waffles were underdone, my toast blackened and one side was always darker than the other.

To this day, I completely disregard all the fancy dials and buttons and instead constantly pop the toaster every 45 seconds to flip the toast/toaster pastry/waffle. Using this usually innocent appliance becomes a stressful experience. I constantly worry I'll burn my delicious breakfast and waste perfectly good food. I don't have a dog, so I usually try to push the no-longer-edible food onto my unsuspecting family. I tried to give it to my cat once. She just licked it for 10 minutes.

And that, everyone, is why I don't trust toasters.