Archive by Author

theVar & Sport from Talk Thirty To Me (via 12 Questions)

15 Feb

Something great happened yesterday. Come on, you didn’t hear about it? Well, boopussy to you, because 12 Questions launched and made us their first interview. We haven’t watched the vid yet, but we trust them. [Remember, we both hate watching ourselves on camera.]

The 12 Questions dynamic duo made us feel so warm and fuzzy inside with their eloquent words about us. Bah! Who do they think we are. Trying to make us feel all sappy and shit. Eff that noise.

Tonight they will be holding a launch party at Rackhouse Pub from 5pm to 8pm. Get your asses over there and say hi to our scuttle bugs, Becky and Spencer.

I’m not going hold you up any longer. Go watch and be merry, scoundrels.

Welcome to our first post! To get us started, we picked a pair of scoundrels that embody the spirit of what we’re going for with 12?s: true individuals with brash, energetic, and unique voices who are doing something, building communities and shaking things up. In 2010, Talk Thirty To Me emerged as a provocative, entertaining forum for plugged-in thirty-somethings. The brainchild of social media strategists LeVar Battle and Sara Downey (better kn … Read More

via 12 Questions


Guest Post: Fuck, someone noticed!

27 Jan

Today our girl Shel talks about some hard shit. On one hand she’s talking about her weight  and health and how she’s going to deal with her situation.  But she’s also echoing the ideas of accountability and community that we’ve been mentioning this week. I must say, I’m on board with you, Shel! Be it support, well-timed jokes, or recipe swaps, I’m on Team Shel for this awesome undertaking.  <3

Last week, my best friend said I was fat.  I am paraphrasing, of course.  And while it came from a place of love, there was a second when I thought to myself “fuck, someone noticed!”  Umm…duh.

I have lived all my life pretty much ignoring the fact that I have weight issues and I am always so shocked when someone brings it up, or when my VW sized ass prevents me from doing something or wearing something that I feel like I should be able to do. 

In elementary school, it was noticed and brought up, but so was big ears, being tall, being short, being skinny, etc…everyone gets picked on in elementary school so it never seemed anything but ordinary.  In junior high, it was noticed but I was smart and funny, played volleyball and basketball and was a pretty popular fat kid.  So again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  In high school, I was super punk rock and played the violin.  I purposefully made myself noticed.  I was “the girl with the mohawk”, not the “fat girl”.  In my adult life, I have never wanted for friends, boyfriends, sex partners.  I have never let the fact that I wasn’t a size 6 stand in my way of getting anything I wanted.  My heath has always been good, no high blood pressure, no diabetes, never had high cholesterol.  I am outgoing, vivacious, fucking adorable and have always been up to something.  Not to mention a better than average self-esteem.  In short, my junk in the trunk was easy to ignore.  Until last week.

Last week, over an amazing Venezuelan dinner in NYC, my best friend said I was fat.  We talked about it, nothing was ignored, reality was on the table.  And because I love myself almost as much as he loves me, I committed to him that I would speak to my doctor and have a serious conversation regarding my weight.  Friday, after the nurse returned a blood pressure reading of ‘high’ for the first time in my life, that conversation happened.  I would say my timing is impeccable.

I talked, my doctor listened.  My doctor talked, I listed.  It was a highly productive and given my blood pressure rating, highly motivational chat.  Apparently, as you get older (wait…I am older too?  Son of a bitch!) your body has a more difficult time compensating for extra weight.  Everything works harder, your heart, your liver and kidneys, and therefore runs down much quicker.  And frankly, I have no time to be running down.  I have way too much shit to do.

So, with that conversation, some typical obsessive/compulsive spreadsheet creation, and enrolling some key people in my goal, a number was set. 50 pounds by Jan 01, 2012.  I struggled with whether or not to put this out into the public domain but I am hoping by doing that, I will be held accountable.  By saying the words out loud, I have made it real.  Here’s to keeping it real, ya’all.

By the way, my BFF also said that I am whoring around too much (validating my self-esteem, thank you!) and drinking too much.  In my defense, Rome wasn’t built in a day and I need a cocktail.  One thing at a time.

Guest Post: Older and wiser?

5 Jan

Happy New Year, scoundrels! We hope your year has started off fabulously!

You all remember our girl vaguelycool? Well she’s back at it giving us a glimpse into the world and wisdom of a super busy, super dedicated mom and wife. This run down of oh-so-rad wisdom gems is exactly the sort of stuff we hope to learn in our 30s as we embrace 2011!


I was told I was getting old last week. OLD? I’m 35 – my God I’m not old – shit, I’m just getting going here! Old. Even more insulting/humorous/ironic, this was pointed out to me by a woman about my mother’s age, so I knew it was probably true, she said it in a kind way and she wears sensible shoes.

Ah, if only...

Agh, who the fuck cares. I’m actually enjoying my age. Happily married, second kiddo under my belt, two mortgages, two (f-ing stupid) cats, an annoying dog, I don’t drive a mini-van and I’m still wearing the same size jeans I was when I was in college…..ok, so maybe one size larger. I have a financial future, I have life insurance, a will, I’m comfortable in my skin….I’m happy.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned in my 35 years, in no particular order:

  • Smiling is free and it really can make someone’s day
  • It’s good to try not to swear. Fuck.
  • Matching underwear, while nice, is not necessary – clean underwear is a must
  • Good grammar and spelling is really important
  • Charity – I find something that works for me and make sure I do it regularly
  • Manners, at the end of the day, that’s all one has
  • I will sacrifice absolutely anything for my children and my husband
  • I don’t ask friends to help me move, I hire movers
  • I love to have a cocktail or two, always will
  • Pointless bullshit has no place in my life, nor do vapid, pointless people
  • Accepting my family for who they are is a continuing journey – one I’m dedicated to and don’t always do a good job
  • Being blunt doesn’t have to overtake being kind
  • Priorities change
  • Never say never; really
  • I want to be remembered as a truly special person, a loving person, a smart person but most of all a great mother and wife
  • Practice compassion
  • Finally, and most importantly…..exit gracefully

#reverb10 +

29 Dec

#reverb10 is better than a gallon of chunky monkey ice cream and the next day of psycho-babble you’ll need after a break-up. We’re not sure what we were waiting for, but this ish is therapeutic.

December 25th Prompt–Photo. A present to yourself: Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.

Above is a picture of The Var and I on Var’s bike, Archie. It was taken in late summer by our dear friend, Amber. She snapped this on a street somewhere between Colfax’s Bluebird District and City Park in Denver. I love this picture of us because it really encapsulates our friendship. A happy partnership on the move.  OMG, and look how skinny I was then! le sigh. –Sport

December 23rd Prompt–New Name: Let’s meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?

Hi, I’m Sara Downey. It’s nice to meet you.

Yeah. I chose my partner in crime to be for a day. Seriously, she’s one of the funniest, brightest, most genuine people I’ve ever met. At various points in our friendship, I’ve caught myself daydreaming into the life of Sara and imagining how wonderful it must be. Liked by all, hated by many. It’s just how she rolls. Sara’s a gem, and oftentimes, the white picket fence I fantasize about. Trust me, if you hang around her, you’ll understand. <3 you, lady! -theVar

December 19th Prompt–Healing: What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011?

In  my life, I’ve always found that when I need some time to heal a wound, distance is the answer for me.  Early 2010 was a time of epic heartache for me. I felt like a wound myself. Raw and open, possibly on the verge of gangrene. It fucking sucked. I was grappling with the the consequences of calling off a wedding and the ensuing piles of sadness, chaos and rejection that follow such a decision. I was feeling buried in the aftereffects, so I looked for a quick escape to New York City. A city so large, so loud, that not even I would be able to hear my own bellowing hurt.

My dearest friend, Phil, took me to a play while I was staying with him. It was Daniel Packard’s Live Group Sex Therapy Show. The show was like a band-aid. Meh, let’s be honest, it was more of a tourniquet. It cut off circulation to the mopey, whiny, sobbing mess of a oh-my-gawd-I-feel-so-sorry-for-myself and was a turning point in healing that hurt in which I was wallowing. And sometimes losing something like that is the only way to heal. -Sport

December 17th Prompt–Lesson Learned: What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward?

I’m self-abasing. While in the moment of beating someone to the ‘racist punch-line’, the realization kicked in that I was in a pattern. I’m constantly the one to make the first racist joke among my friends. Why, you ask? That’s a good question. Possibly because I have latent issues about my race and feeling insecure in regards to people seeing me in a negative light because of it. *shoulder shrug*

Going forward I’m going to take a page from Maya Angelou’s book and refuse to use, or be present for the use of, racial pejoratives of any kind. Or at least try. You may think this is easy. Obviously, you haven’t been around me when I’m in my prime. Shit gets vulgar. -theVar

#reverb10 unpaused

28 Dec

We’d mentioned that at the beginning of December #reverb10 was starting. After a few participating posts, we kinda slacked off. Now we’re back in full effect. We hope you’re participating, and if not, consider this your chance to start. You won’t regret it. After reading our responses, feel free to leave your responses to any or all of the prompts in the comments. We’d love to hear your take on #reverb10.

December 28th Prompt–Achieve: What’s the thing you most want to achieve next year? How do you imagine you’ll feel when you get it? Free? Happy? Complete? Blissful? Write that feeling down. Then, brainstorm 10 things you can do, or 10 new thoughts you can think, in order to experience that feeling today.

Next year I’d like to achieve the feeling of Accomplishment. In my 31 years, I’ve constantly felt like I was on the verge of being where I want to be in life—love, career, spiritually, etc. To reach that feeling would make me happier than a pig in slop.

10 things I can do to experience that today: Be still. Love all (even the little things). Stay open and honest. Embrace fear. Relax. Listen. Ask. Be kind. Be generous. Be thankful. -theVar

December 27th Prompt–Ordinary joy: Our most profound joy is often experienced during ordinary moments. What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?

When I was a kid, my dad used to put apples and oranges in my stocking at Christmas. Christmas morning we’d roll them on the floor and peel and eat them. It’s by far my fondest memory of holidays. It didn’t cost much, it didn’t require a load of planning. It was just nice.

This year, Mike had put two oranges in my stocking for me to find. I nearly cried. What an unexpected and wonderful moment of joy to find that your partner is present. Of course I didn’t cry, because I’m not a pussy. And we haven’t rolled them on the floor yet. I’m pregnant, and getting down on the floor is a frickin’ moment of joy all onto itself. -Sport

December 26th Prompt–Soul Food: What did you eat this year that you will never forget? What went into your mouth & touched your soul?

Where do I begin? My mom’s in town and has cooked so much deliciousness that’s caused a flood of memories I’d been repressing for years. Got it—Banana Pudding. She put her foot in that one. One bite, and I was that scrawny, big head, dumbo-eared kid climbing trees and running through the yard barefoot. Shrouded by foliage and the smell of country, nothing could touch me. The world as I see it now never manifested. There was mom, dad, my big bro, and I in a land of wonderment. Ahhhh, those were the days. -theVar

December 24th Prompt–Everything’s Ok: What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

Sometimes things seem like they’re never going to get any better. I had a whole period earlier this year where I felt completely defeated. Not just that things weren’t going my way, but that life had bitch-slapped me into submission and I was ready to fly the white flag. Genuine stretches of despair.

But I think those moments that seem so dark in life shockingly juxtapose with moments of light. In fact, that darkness is necessary to see the possibility of light. One of the great moments of light for me this past year was when I laced up my roller skates to play roller derby with the Dublin Roller Girls. It was the first time in months that I remembered the delight of simply doing something that I loved.  Here I was in a foreign country with complete strangers skating around a track and finally feeling completely at home and comfortable in my own skin again. Things were okay. Everything was going to be okay. And all it took was a few laps to realize that.

As next year approaches, with all the challenges I have on the horizon, I’ll always remember those girls, my skates and that things will be fine after a couple laps. –Sport

image courtesy of

Guest Post: A Jailed Christmas

27 Dec

This is a Christmas tale worth reading. Seth graces our blog with his “this boy is prone to mischief” antics once again.

Walking the Holiday Line

As a 32 year-old male, I now consider myself to be fairly wise, even if I still don’t feel completely mature. To be fair, I set the bar very low in my 20’s, so both wisdom and maturity are still extremely relative. With my current driving privileges somewhat…limited at the moment, and while I was driving past a cop today on Santa Fe here in Denver, I was reminded of the week of Christmas, 2000.

I have never been one to try and make myself out to be some great shining example of a human being. In most time periods of my life, I’ve been nothing but an example of what not to do. Unless you really want to have a lot of fun and regret it later.


Jealous? Yeah, actually, with that kind of MPG who wouldn't be?

I don’t remember there being a lot of snow on the ground that week, but I also know we weren’t blessed with the joyful tidings of a never-ending autumn like we have been this year. I know there was snow at some point already that year, because I had slid into a gas station pole fixture and dented my Suzuki Swift. Which, by the way, filled up for only $9 and drove me over 400 miles.

That day, 22 year-old me forgot to stop fully before turning right at a red light on my way to work. As a result, I got pulled over, and unfortunately I’d brought some opium with me since me and my friends at work liked to smoke it on our lunch break. Stopping fully at the red light wasn’t the only thing I’d forgotten to do in regards to the law that year. A while back, I also “forgot” to pay a ticket that I got for having no insurance. Strangely enough, neither the cop nor the judge who issued my bench warrant seemed to have forgotten. Continue reading

Guest Post: We’re trying, dammit!

23 Dec

Lorrie’s guest post today is honest. I was reading it and thought back to my rant about my mother last week. Things aren’t as black and white as I try to make it when dealing with her. I have to step back and realize that she’s just trying to do the same thing I am: create happiness. I can’t lie, Lorrie. It is hard to see past the ‘spiteful and impatient and petty and prickly’ we all call mom.


Sport here! Var and I had a veritable throw down after reading this post about how we interpreted it.  My take: Moms, listen up! Your kids are showing you through their actions that all the extra pressure you’re creating around the holidays and all the over-the-top crap you’re doing isn’t what matters.  Ask any kid and they’ll tell you, they’d rather have a happy mom over a stressed out mom for the holidays. I understand the desire to do extra special things around this time of the year to create memories. Just make sure the memory you’re creating isn’t one of you pouting every Christmas because you feel under appreciated.  – I think whatever you take away from this piece, it’s great food for thought heading into the next couple of days.

And now, on to Lorrie’s take…


Two days ago, I came down with a wicked cold. This evening, I decided to mix cold medications and rum and this is the letter that resulted. Please note: all children and pets were safe during this endeavor. I taught the oldest one– the cat, not the kid– how to dial 911 if need be!

Dear Scoundrels,

You all have mothers. At some point, you did, unless you were spawned, or grew from a spore, which is pretty frickin’ sweet and I’d like to hear about it some time. But, for the purposes of this missive, I’m going to assume the majority of you have mothers, and, in some capacity, are visiting/dealing/putting up with her right now.Kids and the toy Santa.

I have a mom. She’s on the awesome side of things: she looks a lot like me (score one for genetics!) and drinks and smokes and, if she’s feeling on the bawdy side of things, swears like a sailor. She’s one of my best friends, and I couldn’t have gotten through a good stretch of my life without her.

That said: she drives me absolutely batshit.

I will not detail any of the traits which push me towards that brink of draining the bottle of rubbing alcohol and driving my car head-long into a bus-full of nuns– I love her enough to know that’s not a Christmas gift. I will also not detail the parts that I find most spectacular, as I already know, upon reading this, she will demand to hear all of them, as she will be greatly offended that there is anything about her I don’t like.

How do I know this? Well, for one thing, I’ve known her all thirty-one years of my life. For another, I’m a mother myself.

Granted, my kids are (newly) seven and (almost) five. They have yet to form any really complex reactions to me– currently, I am saintly or evil. My daughter is my husband borne a girl, and, as such, she is terrifically endearing and infuriating in the same breath. I am, however, the mother of a mama’s boy and, by God, they are the best people on the face of this earth. But, for both, I still fall firmly into one of those aforementioned camps, despite my best intentions.

Being a mother is a mind-fuck in the best of circumstances, but is something else entirely in the holiday season. It is a given that, every year, I bust my ass to give both my kids the best Christmas possible, to get them gifts they’ll love, they want, and, inevitably, I am blown out of the water by another person. My daughter’s first real Christmas (that is, the first at which she could interact, being all of four days old at her first), mostly broke, I spent months tracking down and buying her gifts that would encourage her spirit and creativity. Christmas Eve, my husband went to Target for something and, in addition, bought her a five dollar pack of rubber balls. Six years later, she still speaks of these rubber balls, as though they contained magical properties. We still have several of them, and she cherishes them. The beautifully-handcrafted wood toys I got her that Christmas? I think they were all donated a year later.

Every year is like this, and, yet, every year, I attempt to win the coveted Mom of the Year crown. I judge myself mediocre at best most of the year, but something about December turns me into the Martha Fucking Stewart of mothering. I bake. I sew. I decorate. I wrap. I host. Things get haywire. I, like this year, come down with a crippling cold, but I’m still here, with my needle and thread and maniacal plans. I’m that mom when the tinsel goes on the tree.

The thing is: most of us are that mom at one time or another. And that’s what I’m here to tell you, Scoundrels: we are that mom because we love you. It may sound trite, or dumb, but most of our meddling, our over-enthusiasm, our pushiness, it comes from our desire to show that love in a sort of fireworks way. And, like most humans, we’re damned sloppy about it. We’re spiteful and impatient and petty and prickly– I’ve spent the last week feeling sorry for myself because “no one appreciates me!” We put ourselves in this position and, really, we can’t wonder when our children and other assorted family gets frustrated with our whiny asses.

That said: we’ll do it anyway.

So, my friends, what I’m saying (in a nicely drunk, roundabout way) is: please be gentle with your mothers. In a way, we’re all drunk on rum and cold meds, and all we want is to wrap you up in that festive Santa paper and make your heart happy the whole year ’round.

Merry Christmas, Scoundrels, from your very own resident (until Sport sprogs, that is) mama.

XOXO, Lorrie

Our Top 30 of 2010

20 Dec

We decided it only befitting of our big fat mouths to give you scoundrels a run down of the 30 events that caught our attention this year. Hang on tight, and chime in with your take on these events.

In no particular order…

LOST Finale – The finale was the only episode of LOST we ever watched. We have to admit,  it was good. That said, we still don’t get what all the hoopla was about.

Elections –  The GOP got all up in that shit this mid-term election.  Um, that’s sorta the only nice thing we have to say about that.

Ignite Denver – BAM, son!

Getting Knocked Up –  Sigh. Sport’s procreating. That’s both scary and awesome. Woot, Smokey The Bear The Person! (The baby’s gender reveal is this week. Soooo excited!)

Take This Job and Shove It – Hmmmm, it didn’t actually go like that. theVar did save face, but he crop dusted the place and left a steamer in his boss’s desk. You know how that ninja <–[sub racial pejorative here] gets down.

Happy Hour – Whoa! That seemed forever ago. We think it’s time for another, or something to see all of you scoundrels in person again. So fun. So fun.

Jersey Shore – Someone please explain why you would spend any amount of time watching these morons? Seriously, we’re not getting it. And really, “The Situation” did a safe sex PSA with Bristol Palin? Doesn’t that seem beyond ridiculous to anyone else?

Bieber Fever – LILTF (Lesbian I’d Like to Fuck)…when she’s of age, of course. What? It’s the hair. You know it’s the hair.

Taylor Swift – We hate this little girl.  But we think Swift and Bieber should hook up and finish high school or something.

Beatles on iTunes – So the Beatles weren’t available to their adoring fans before? It was a classic case of “yeah, it’s cool, I already imported the Revolver album into my library anyway.’ We’re still scratching our heads as to why Apple hyped this in the way they did, and why the hell boomers actually bought that shit.

iPad / iPhone “can you believe they released both this year” – We can, and neither of us own either. We’re poor, bitches. With that being said, would you like to give each of us an iPad for Christmas? *bats eyes* pleeeeaaassseeeeee

Haiti earthquake – No joke here. Haiti was hit hard by the earthquake and the after effects including a recent Cholera outbreak. Not funny at all. If you’re looking to help, you can still donate to The Red Cross.


The World Cup / Those GD Horns – If we have to hear another vuvuzela (pronounced VULVA) again, we’ll gladly gouge our ears out. Can one gouge their ears out? We’ve heard of eyes, but ears? Well, we’ll be the first. Tandem dammit.

Royal Engagement – Okay, it’s sorta romantic. Contrived, but romantic. Cutie pie Prince William gives Kate his momma’s ring.  Yeah, that’s sweet. And dang, that girl sure waited for it.  We give 10 years.

The Competing Engagements of Nick & Jessica – After the Chicken of the Sea incident, you’d think these two would have learned their lessons. Nick. Jessica. Suck dicks and catch gonosyphilitis in the mouth. Your 2 minutes of Reality Super-loser-dom is over. Buh-bye!

GLEE – Two of our favorite pastimes wrapped into one: TV & Musicals. Squeeeeee! If you guys are gleeking out on this show, then…then…we’ll get back to you on that one. Just watch the effing thing. So. Good.

Oh Jack, how we miss you!

24 finale – We spent the second half of the final season watching 24 at Sport’s place. If you could have heard the oooo’s and ahhhh’ as we drooled over the anticipation and excitement before, during, and after every episode. FOX, why did you have to take 24 away? Whhyyyyyyy??? *tears*

Saints Win The Super Bowl – Hot dayumn, NOLA!  A historic win to lift a city up after the tragedy of Katrina? Or Drew Brees just had one helluva year? Either way, Who dat, who dat, who dat!

Winter Olympics – We didn’t watch  it. Movin’ on.

Charley Miller for CO Senate: Stop tw-rassing  us! – This guy decided to follow every Twitter account we’d created and was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde about it. Follow today, unfollow tomorrow–desperate for our attention it seemed. We even talked smack in hopes he’d lose our scent. The bastard was relentless.

New Twitter – Moment passed. Hootsuite? TweetDeck? Yes, please.

Facebook / MySpace – We’re not sure what the full extent of this partnering entails. Honestly, we don’t even care. Why can’t MySpace just slither under a rock and die like so many of its predecessors and contemporaries?

Ummm what?

New GAP Logo – One word: WOWZA! Just in case you were wondering what ever happened to the thing, the public showed Gap who’s the boss. Personally, we think Gap played with our cerebral cortexes for publicity. Question: If it was a tried and true rebranding attempt, who was the agency behind such a horrible design concept?

RockMelt – We love you. Wanna make babies? Such a great idea despite the slow factor of the browsing experience oftentimes. :/

Icelandic Volcano – Not cool, Iceland. Not cool. Not only did that volcano strand Sport and Mama Sport in Ireland, but–wait, actually that was pretty cool.  And the cats nailed it over at SNL !

British Tuition Hikes Protests – Ha hahaha British folks are wild. I like how the media caught footage of one yahoo chanting “off with their heads” at Prince Charles and Camilla. Good times.

Lindsay Lohan in Rehab – She hasn’t OD’d yet? Because she should consider it. That thang is as crazy as a bedbug. And speaking of bedbugs…

Bedbugs – 2010 was the year that mutha f*ckin bedbugs invaded the US! Probably because they thought they were going to be covered under ObamaCare. Kidding. But seriously, those critters are everywhere! So much so, that our friends over at Unseen Denver brought us a wake up story on bedbugs earlier this year.

Just effing precious

Tea Party – Christine O’Donnell, witchcraft, rallies, misspelled protest signs and the best nickname ever! Tea Baggers (Nut Sac Dunkers), we love to hate you.

Cheating Celeb Husbands – Sandra Bullock, Eva Longoria, Elin & Tiger…yes, this is what our viewing pleasures have been reduced to </facepalm>

The Death and Rebirth of Late Night: Conan –  Enough said. Hahahah…TEAM COCO for life! What self-respecting guy has the nickname CoCo? An African American male stripper? Or everyone’s favorite lanky Irish Ginger funny man?

Juan William – Um yeah. Only Juan Williams would get fired from NPR for his comments on Muslim air travelers and then get straight PAID by Fox News for the whole sitch.

Greg Hollenback – This sack of dicks. I think after the Westwords caricature and RedHead Writings, not one but two, I’m gonna get you sucka posts, we won’t be seeing the Shit…er, Sheik of Cherry Creek for a while.

TRON Sucks – It did then and it will now. Trust us! FYL Disney. You can’t make a good movie by gluing glow sticks to yourself. That’s called a rave, and you need ecstasy. Don’t look at us like that. You geeks probably only have a couple of moments that you actually considered cool. The rest was boooorrrrriinnnnngg!

Lady Gaga – (RAH)2 (AH)3 + [ROMA (1+MA)] + (GA)2 (OOH) (LA)2 = Consider yourself song bombed. You’re welcome.

Bruno Mars – We heart his face and Sport wants to keep him chained up in her closet. You know, for serenades and stuff. Nothing sexual *shifty eyes*

Chilean Minors – Our hearts were with the miners, believe me, but we’d like to take a moment and laugh. Thanks Charlie McDowell for bringing us the vapid, but oh so entertaining, Girls Above Me. Chilean Minors. hahahahaha…classic.

Hmmm, so we can’t count. Or we’re just full of witty observations. Yeah, that’s it. The witty thing! Phew. Just think, 2011 will be filled with even more juicy, delicious, ‘Best Of’ crap. Can’t. Wait.

It’s Complicated – WTF? Is your relationship Advanced Physics

15 Dec

Recently we spotted a friend’s Facebook relationship status update as saying “in a relationship/ it’s complicated.”

Now, we’re not trying to judge, but seriously? Someone is going to have to explain this to us. We’re in our 30s, we have lives. Why in the world would you put up with a “complicated” relationship?

Here at TTTM, we’ve talked about offbeat relationships and we’ve talked a ton about traditional ideas of dating and relationships. Is this “it’s complicated” stuff just a new arena into which our open minds need to step?

Scoundrels, what is your take on the complicated relationship? Worth it, or you gottta be kidding me – and yourself?

Guest Post: Elopement–No Bells, No Buffet, & No Bullshit

26 Nov

Annnndddd, here we go again. What is up with you women and weddings.*gags* The 30s really do get that clock to ticking louder, eh? Being gay is so convenient. I don’t have to worry about any of the bells, buffets, or as Maria titled it, bullshit. Thank you gay-marriage haters of the United States. I salute you. (I’m also giving you the finger. Stop trampling on other people’s rights. Why can’t we all me miserable during and after matrimony.) Nonetheless, Maria has the ticket. If you’re going to fucking do it, do it in stealth. Less money. Less headache. More dubious. *wringing hands* I love dubious.

It may be fun to look at wedding porn for a few seconds, but eventually, nausea sets in and you’re ready to blow up the nearest bridal boutique. You think all you need is a dress, but then it turns into a dress, a veil, shoes, fake flowers for your hair, bouquets, bridal party attire, catering, favors for your guests, a wet bar, a 5-piece band, an exorbitant rental fee for some cheesy location and a crackpot preacher, and a giant migraine. You can get seriously ill thinking about your “perfect” traditional wedding.

Your reasons may be different from mine, but what I’ve decided is that elopement is looking pretty good. I’ve been engaged for almost 15 months now, I don’t have some giant frilly dress, I haven’t set a date, and I honestly don’t plan on doing any of that. I have a ring on my finger and a fiancée who’s willing to spontaneously tie the knot when the mood strikes.

“Planning” an Elopement

I may hate the idea of having a whiny flower girl and snot-nosed ring bearer, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely heartless – just almost. In my opinion, the courthouse isn’t the place to get hitched. I don’t want to remember the felon or the lawyer sitting next to me waiting for the judge when I recall my wedding day. You may be less of a fairy tale princess, but when it comes down to it, I don’t want to be starting my marriage with divorce candidates or unsavory characters. My fiancée and I are planning to simply pick up our marriage license from the courthouse and run off to some undisclosed location for the actual ceremony. And the best part about this is that we’re not setting a date – we’re both ready to get married, but we’re enjoying the engagement and the idea that children are only in our nightmares.

We’ve talked to our local county clerk’s office at the courthouse about how long it might take on certain days at certain times, we’ve checked out gardens and parks, and we’ve found short-notice officiants who can be persuaded to meet us and get us on our way to married life for a reasonable fee.

In our county, we have to wait 72 hours between getting our marriage license and having our ceremony, so there’s a little bit of planning ahead there. But the bulk of the planning is actually the honeymoon – the best part of the whole wedding shitstorm and the only reason people ever survive traditional ceremonies in the first place. To get everything in order, we’ll plan two weeks ahead for the honeymoon, which is still pretty spontaneous for a marriage. It’s no shotgun courthouse wedding, but it’s not the year of planning recommended by any wedding porn magazine you pick up either. It’s just enough peace of mind and flexibility for a couple of thirty rotten scoundrels.

Maria Rainier is a freelance writer and blog junkie. She is currently a resident blogger at First in Education, where recently she’s been researching different online msw degrees and blogging about student life. In her spare time, she enjoys square-foot gardening, swimming, and avoiding her laptop.

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