Everyday I’m T-T-Tumblin’

I love Tumblr. In fact, I believe I should probably be entering a twelve-step program for it or something, based on the following equation:

[(Time spent on Tumblr)(Time spent on the computer) – (Time spent doing productive stuff)]/(24 hours) = GET A FUCKING LIFE.

Cats are good at math.

But I have never been a fan of math, so I’m just going to ignore that and keep T-T-Tumblin’. I have been completely neglecting the Tumblr associated with this blog in favor of my personal Tumblr, which I will never tell any of you Internet People (sorry), but it is seriously soooo fun. If you don’t have one, I have a handy-dandy quiz to help you decide whether or not you should get one!

The “Should I Get a Tumblr?” Quiz

  1. I like pictures and photography. [Yes] [No]
  2. I like pretty and/or attractive things. [Yes] [No]
  3. I enjoy wasting lots of time on the Internet machine. [Yes] [No]
  4. I like free porn. [Yes] [No]
  5. I either like or hate pudding cups. [Yes] [No]

Okay, now to grade your quiz–if you answered “yes” to any of the above questions, you should get a Tumblr! YAYYY, Tumblrs and pudding cups (or no pudding cups) for everyone!

But as usual, I had an evil ulterior motive for writing this post–to bitch about Tumblr. You see, I love it, but some of the things people post make me want to drive a large rusted spike through my head. Or their heads, because I already suffered once having to read their posts. Besides the litany of Jonas Brothers/Demi Lavato/Beiber GIFS that always find their way onto my dash no matter who I follow, EVERYONE POSTS SAPPY RETARDED QUOTES. I’m sorry, but it’s true. And they are usually in the field of “My life sucks”/”I’ll be lonely forever”/”Do you still think about me while touching your penis, ex-boyfriend?”/”I will wait for you even though you cheated on me with a Russian transvestite” vein of thought.

Aside from that, though, it’s great, so go make one and then follow my Wildhearts Tumblr even though I never post anything. Hiii-yah!

A Movie Review About a Misleadingly Named Movie (Hint: It’s Drive)

I went to see the movie Drive last night. In case you haven’t heard of it, Ryan Gosling is the main character, and Carey Mulligan is the lady-friend main character. I don’t even know how to sum up the plot, so I’ll just let IMDB do it for me: “A Hollywood stunt performer who moonlights as a wheelman discovers that a contract has been put on him after a heist gone wrong.”

Okay. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but a few things about this movie led me to believe it would have lots of car chases. First and foremost, “drive” is right in the title. It is the title, in fact. Secondly, there are cars on the posters. Third, the words “stunt performer” and “wheelman” and “heist” are all in the description, which sound like fast, car-driving words to me.

So I bopped on down to see this film, because hey, Ryan Gosling driving cars fast! Plus, it got 92% on Rotten Tomatoes, which is no mean feat. Now, to be fair, I should point out that I was pretty stoned, but if anything I think that should’ve added to the viewing experience.

Anyway, this movie was basically No Country For Old Men with the hipster levels jacked up, and the same amount of driving (which if you haven’t seen No Country, that’s my way of saying there was NOT A LOT OF DRIVING IN DRIVE). No Country is about this guy who stumbles on some big money at the site of a shootout, snatches it, and then gets tailed by the people who quiero their dinero. It’s really, really quiet, with lots of long, dramatic pauses and staring and landscape cut-scenes, but it also has Javier Bardem and is a pretty decent movie.

He doesn't look like this in the movie, I apologize.

Now, SPOILER ALERT, Drive is about this guy (RG) who is a stunt driver, who falls in love with his next-door neighbor (CM), who happens to have a husband in prison. Hubby comes home and apparently owes a lot of money to some scumbags, who beat him up and tell him they’re going to come after his wifey and kid if he doesn’t do a job for them (robbing a pawn shop). Since there were lots of long, silent scenes where Ryan Gosling was either bonding with Casey Mulligan & Son or plotting how to serial-murder them, he was upset. So he was all, “Let’s rob this pawn shop and you can pay them back for good!”

But, spoiler spoiler spoiler, the robbery goes rotten, everyone dies, and somehow Ryan Gosling gets a bag with a million dollars in it, and then the people who want the money won’t stop tailing him (even though he totally offers to give it right back). You see the similarities now? And that’s pretty much the movie, because it just sort of tails off into nothing after a lot of silences and a truly horrifying scene where Gosling steps on some guy’s head in an elevator until he is just stepping on bone/brain chunks. It’s pretty gory in some other places, too.

After I left the theater, some rando said to me, “Did anybody else understand that movie at all?” which I think is a pretty good indicator of how it made me feel. It was just kind of pointless, I guess? I feel like I got tricked into seeing an indie movie when I was trying to watch The Fast and the Furious. Also, no one is that quiet. Someone would say something and NO ONE would respond, and that was just the norm. If I said something important to someone and they just sat there like a meat Popsicle, I would be all, “Hey, um, I’m trying to have a conversation, so do you maybe want to fucking TALK? Also, how about going on a car chase with me?”

But I somehow didn’t hate it. I feel mixed-up about it, like falling in like with your stepbrother. Go watch it for yourself, maybe, and see what you think? (And also, don’t hook up with stepsiblings. It was just a joke. Don’t take them on a date to see Drive, either, because that’s just weird.)

Don’t Be a Halloweenie

I know that Halloween is over a month away, but I am already pretty excited. In fact, I started an orange-and-black paper-chain countdown, just like for Christmas, except it’s kind of long since there are 41 links on it. And I almost burned down my apartment by surrounding my bed with Jack-O-Lanterns, because I kicked one in my sleep and it rolled into the fake cobwebs I set up. I’ve already started my all-candy diet in preparation of the big day!

Okay, not really. Except for the first part, where I am reallymotherfuckingexcited for All Hallow’s Eve (is that the same thing as Halloween? If yes, I am very smart. If no, shut up, go read a history blog).

For those of you who have no sense of fun who don’t like Halloween, allow me to shoot down all your reasons so you will appreciate the best holiday ever.

“I’m too old to celebrate Halloween.”  If this is your excuse, you’re either 13, or stupid. And if you’re 13,  you should take advantage of the one time all year it’s okay to take candy from strangers. If you’re an adult-sized person, don’t be so crazy. You don’t say, “Gosh, sorry, Grandma, but I can’t come to Easter Sunday because I’m just kind of too old for Easter now!” No one is too old to dress up like a slut and get drunk with their friends in the name of whatever-Halloween-stands-for.

“I don’t like getting dressed up.”  Then wear your own clothes, and tell everyone you’re a serial killer, a la Wednesday from The Addams Family. Ta-da, problem solved.

Ariel isn't a serial killer. Don't even joke like that. This is just a really good costume.

“I am lame and I hate good things.”  I believe psychiatric help may be a good starting point for you. (Seriously, I’m out of reasons why someone could dislike Halloween.)

Okay! So now that I have bullied you into celebrating the Best Holiday Ever, we are all in the Halloween spirit. YAYYY! I mean, OOOOOO! (That’s how ghosts say yay.) Now comes the real problem…the costume. I’ve been kicking around a few ideas, but none of them have really grabbed me as of yet. I thought I might be Fiona from that weird episode of Adventure Time where it’s Fiona and Cake instead of Finn and Jake, and then I decided I might be some form of sexy animal, and then I thought up being one of the kindergartners from Recess, except slutty. Clearly I have a way to go.

Luckily, while I think about it, Halloween is the perfect excuse to eat lots of apple cider donuts and watch scary movies when I should be doing things a productive member of society would do. So no rush.

The Wild Hearts State of the Union

I haven’t posted in a week. I know, I suck. I’ve been busy doing <insert-stuff-people-do-when-they’re-busy-here> and also having extremely bizarre dreams about living in this awkward apartment on top of a really steep hill with nubbly grass that I was supposed to mow. (No one should have to do chores in their dreams. Ever. That’s like going on vacation somewhere awesome but working as the hotel maid.)

Anyway, I have nothing interesting to write, but what’s new there? Instead I am just going to write some things that are knocking around in my head on this fine fall morning (it still counts as morning if I’m still in bed, right?).

–I hate automatic things, specifically automatic toilets, sinks, and towel dispensers. The toilets either never flush, and then you have to press that tiny button which is always recessed into the wall and probably even germier than a handle, or they flush 98,735 times while you’re pulling your pants up. And talk about ruing the mood for bathroom sex.

–The game Catherine is really fun, if the demo is any indication. I abhor cheating in anything, (spoiler: the game is about this toolish commitment-phobic dude who has weird nightmares and cheats on his girlfriend, and the whole game is about if he chooses Katherine, his girlfriend, or Catherine, rando-slut) so I think the main character is a big ol’ crum-bum, but it just makes it that much more satisfying to see him get stabbed with a giant fork when I fuck up a Nightmare stage.

–Miranda Kerr is really pretty. She might be usurping Candice Swanepoel as my favorite Victoria’s Secret model, which will just devastate poor Candice, I know.

–Fall is a glorious glorious season and it should have its own holiday. Besides Halloween, which is great and amazing but is often snow-covered back home. Like an official Fall Day at the end of September, where everybody gets the day off and rolls around in leaves and drinks apple cider and wears giant sweaters. And also there should be shirtless boys wearing scarves like in an Abercrombie ad, and Golden Retriever puppies that never get bigger, and I have a billion dollars and a Porsche. Ahem. Anyway, Fall Day, whooo!

–Good posture is good. I think some people don’t realize how crap and awkward they make themselves look by hunching over like giant shirt-wearing vultures. Do you want to have sex with a vulture? If so, you go on out there and put the “best” in “bestiality.” If not, you are a normal person who should stand the fuck up straight.

I think I might consider getting out of bed now and doing something vaguely human and productive so I will have thrilling stories to share with you Internet People. Or, you know, stay in my warm cozy covers and just make up something really good.

Let’s All Just Marry Makeup Brush Sets

I have an obsession, and that obsession is makeup. I watch makeup tutorials on YouTube for fun, I just bought a set of nice brushes and was practically drooling when I took them out of the package, and there is nothing I love more than being asked for how-the-fuck-do-I-make-myself-pretty advice.

I guess there are worse things to be obsessed with. Like someone’s family (I’m looking at you, Robbin Williams as the creeper of One Hour Photo) or heroin. And I am not one of those girls who shaves off their eyebrows and draws them on, or fake-bakes, or wears three inches of panstick. I just like doing makeup, of every style and shade and look you can possibly dream of. If I had a webcam that didn’t have the resolution of a sonogram, I would probably do my own tutorials.

But, alas, I only have my ancient webby, so instead I just do all my friends’ makeup when they go out. And I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty stellar at it. I did my friend’s makeup for her wedding, and trust, nobody’s going to ask you to do their wedding makeup if you turn people into Bozo the Clown every time you pick up a mascara wand.

I’m not really sure what the point of this post is, other than to tell people I love makeup. And to ask any makeup questions you have, Internet World, I suppose? (Nothing makes me want to cry more than when people write in to Yahoo! Answers with cosmetics questions and then get the absolute worst responses. All day, I imagine them taking some fool’s advice and wandering around with chalk-white eyeshadow and blotches of purple rouge on their cheeks.) And as an excuse to say how much I love my new brush set, because I LOVE MY NEW BRUSH SET.

Did I mention I love my new brush set?

A Prayer

I heard this quote today for the first time, and it was so fitting I had to post it.

“A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages.” —Tennessee Williams

I mean, that’s good. Angelina Jolie even has it tattooed on her arm, and she is pretty cool, so that must mean it’s an awesome quote, right? (Also, I just found out she’s bisexual, which I am not, but I think I could make an exception for her. She’s Angelina-God-damn-Jolie, after all.)

Seriously though, I love it, and if it weren’t totally lame and star-copying I would like it as my next tattoo.

Alas, I’ll just have to keep re-writing it in Sharpie every day, like Kat Von D does with her sleeves.*

*I made that up. But admit it–for just a split, split second there, you were like, “Whaaaat? That’s crazy!”**

**Or maybe you were like, “She definitely made that up. What a stupid thing to say.”***

***Or, option number three, maybe you are a robot sent from space to read blogs, and so you have no opinion whatsoever, and in fact just robo-Googled “Kat Von D” with your robo-hands so you would know what I was talking about.****

****I might create an infinite loop with these asterisks if I don’t stop now.