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Long time no post, right?

24 Jan

Have you missed me? Quit lying. I know you have. Gosh, where do I begin? Hmmmm…let’s get an update going.

Well, since I last told you about me leaving my job, I’m proud to say that I’ve grabbed this new venture by the ears and is giving it the face-fucking of it’s life. Ahhhh, you’ve missed that colorful, yet ah-mazing imagery, haven’t ya?! What’s been interesting is that my eyes are now open to so much more. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t have the constraints of the 9-to-5, office environment, or because I dick around on the social webs all day trying to spark conversation. Either way, possibilities are truly endless in life, and you can do whatever you want when you want.

I’ve found that I have so many friends doing such great things. There’s 12 Questions that Spencer and Becky are tackling–you won’t regret this one. Sport and I are going to be their first interview. So. Effing. Exciting! Then there’s also Monk and Mao Photography and Crazy Mae’s Vegan Treats, which our girl Amber is going to drive right on home. Seriously, these cupcakes are a slice of heaven. Oh, and last but not least, there’s the Denver Craft Ninjas. Yeah, Becky has her hands in everything. She’s becoming my hero. (P.S. You can follow all of these amazing ventures on Facebook and Twitter.)

What else is there? *sighs* Time will tell, but I know one thing for sure. We are back people and ready to tear da club up. For those of you not with the lingo: We’re back and in gear. :)

Until tomorrow, scoundrels.

Weekly Rant – F*ck You, Facebook [Updated]

21 Dec

Update (12/22/10 9:51am): Okay, so Zucker-bah. *sighs* Zucker-bah. Zucker-bahhh. Awww, screw it. Zuckerberg isn’t so bad after all. I’m not so much a bastardized dick that I can’t see the greatness in him donating $100 million to the public school system of Newark, New Jersey–a place, as the article points out, he’s never lived. *golf clap* to you Zuckerberg. But, make no mistake. I’ve still got my eye on you, buddy!

______________

Head in ass

Get your head out of your ass, Facebook.

Facebook,

If I may be frank, Clean. Your. Shit. Up. You can consider this our coming to Jesus talk. I’ve told you once, hell, I’ve told you twice–I have no problem giving Twitter 100% of theVar’s time. (You see this shit. You’ve got me talking in 3rd person. That’s how fed-up I am.) Where do you get off constantly changing crap and just telling your users to deal with it. Wait. Correction. You don’t tell us anything. Nawwww, Facebook. You think that because you’re a big baller on the social web front, we’re suppose to eat and like everything you’re serving up.

And I’m sure Zuckerbucket getting Time Magazine’s Person of the Year is going to your head. Is that what happened last week? Sure, you say “some internal prototypes caused the site to be inaccessible” to the majority of your readers. Let’s be honest, asshats. You became overzealous in light of news of  the Zuckerloser announcement.

Hmmm, come to think of it, I should be mad at Time Magazine. They know you turds are arrogant and full of shit. Why would they give you such an award? Scratch that. I guess it would only be fitting they give it to Zuckerbooger. Hitler received the same award in 1939. Could the two megalomaniacs be related? *shoulder shrug*

I like you, Facebook. You definitely serve a purpose. All I’m asking is that you see what your users want. Stop leaving us in the dark, changing shit up, and pissing us off to the highest of pisstivity. Is that too much to ask?

Consider yourself #gloveslapped, fool!

Bad Attitudes

24 Nov

I’ve gotten approximately 3 solid hours of sleep in the last two days. Which means that Mike has probably only gotten about half that.

Do not judge me.

Last night I refused to eat unless he went on a corn dog run.

He did it.

He did it even though he called me a dick on Sunday.  He did it even though we had yet another fight about how I hate, hate, hate the holidays. And despite the fact that I threw one of his cats out onto the balcony Saturday morning.

Yeah, I’ve had a bad attitude lately.

Today our girl Redhead Writing posted about how we should basically stop being such assholes. (Seriously oversimplified). So, I’m giving myself an attitude adjustment.

Tomorrow I’m going to get up and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, thankful that my dear friend, Phil, has had such a successful year in New York.  Then I’m going to put on my cute lace dress that Mike bought me with room in the tummy for Smokey and I’m going to stop being an asshole long enough for Mike to enjoy his Thanksgiving.

I mean, the man went out in the cold to get me a corn dog last night when I could have just eaten the delicious pasta he made.

And I am thankful. For our wonderful TTTM community here. For the fact that theVar and I have had a blast these last several months coming up with crazy stuff to say. And for all of you – readers, friends, folks that keep us accountable.

Thanks, yo!

Idle Hands, Breast Milk, and Gross Out Factor

19 Nov

I opened up Google Reader this morning to read the sleep away, and what do I see? An article on from the Huffington Post on Breast Milk Cocktails for stay-at-home dads. Wowza! I can’t lie. My warped since of interest would not let me take my eyes off of this article. Hell, it even had me wishing I owned my very own lactating mom. (Watch out, Sport. We may have to try some of these recipes in a few months.) *shudders* See this is where my gross out factor kicks in.

I understand, Tony Sach, we drink milk from cows on the reg, and yes, we eat cheeses made from the milk of sheep and goats, but there is also no physical attachment to those animals. As I don’t drink milk, I’m pretty sure you Scoundrels don’t think “This is Bessie the Cow’s milk I’m drinking” when you open the fridge and pull out a cartoon of that white, tongue coating, bone strengthening, deliciousness we call milk. But you can pat your ass on the fact that if you were pulling your wife’s milk out of the ice box (Ha. Ice box. What am I? Circa 1965?) you’d think twice about where it came from each and every time. There’s a personal connection to this milk, dammit. Personally, a gross connection. In my book, I’m tempted to tag this and file it in the Fetish Files. Cocktails just don’t equal sane choices for the uses of breast milk.

Before I’m all hasty and shite, I want to do a few things. First, ask Sport what she thinks of this take on dealing with over-production of breast milk? Secondly, see how do you scoundrels feel about the idea of a Breast Milk Cocktail? Remember, this could be ground-breaking; some of the best cocktails you’ve every had, eh!

Sport: *vomits* Eeeeeeeewwwwww. This is disgusting. And seriously a half step away from what I consider cannibalism.

She could have just donated that excess breast milk to a local milk bank so preemies could have nourishment. But that’s cool, her jack hole husband would rather mix it with booze than give it away. I guess some people are just really into that sort of thing.

Am I being overly hard on him? Probably. I understand the urge/ desire to try or taste the breast milk, but to regularly consume it to me is both gross and selfish. And if Mike did that shit, I’d punch him in the nutsack.

And yeah, because I stand by the things I say, you can bet that if these oh-so-swollen-titties decide to overproduce, I will be donating the excess. Hell, if the Smokey is a big enough pain in the ass, I may be willing to donate him/her too. #MotherOfTheYear

Ugh. The Holidays Are Coming

18 Nov

Nom, nom, nom, bitches

Sigh. To everyone: Eat a dick along with your turkey next week.

I hate the holidays.

I hate the crap, the materialism, the BS influx in vapid consumerism, the drama, the generic social transactions – bah frickin’ humbug!

I just do not see any reason why I should spend a day off driving all over the state to visit the various households of my broken family on the last Thursday of November to eat stuff I can get year-round at Boston Market.  Perhaps if I were bringing blankets of small pox- but to eat? Hell no.

What’s more? A simple cost/benefit analysis for said travel and meal ends up proving it’s not worth the money burned in fuel to arrive at the destination. Yeah, I know it’s about “family time.” #Boopussy.

I don’t have anything against my family, they’re cool. But you know what I like to do on a rare weekday off? Watch old episodes of Law & Order and eat on the couch wearing #nopants.

This year, I’ll be joining the Sig O’s fam for festivities. Five bucks says I end up talking about how heavy my tits are these days, or threaten to slap Mike with my placenta. Because, you know,  I’m the queen of social graces. I’ll do my best to enjoy it, but honestly, I think everyone is super selfish for making me give up my pantless L&O marathon to socialize and build memories.  Dicks.

And I’m not hating on you if you la la la la love you some family holidays. Do your thing and enjoy. Just don’t get pissed if I don’t want to drive all over God’s Green Earth to join your festivities.

I guess I’ve had good Thanksgivings. There was that time Matthew and I went to 7-11 to buy 40s and that amazeballs year in Queens with Phil.  But mostly, for me, it’s a day that just falls flat.

Scoundrels, where do you stand on this one? Alone time, or smother yourself with familial bonding?

This Ain’t NPR. We Say F*cked Up Sh*t

3 Nov

I had something else I wanted to talk about, but I’m going to save that for a later date, when I have a clearer mind. So for today, we’re going to talk about opinions (if you don’t want to hear mine, close your browser
and step away from the computer).

We walk to the beats of our drums. We learned from the best, er, wha?

We all have them, and I respect you for having yours. Just don’t get butt hurt (I understand this could have been caused by the anal sex you had last night, but for the sake of this post, well…) when I state mine or Sport states hers. Hahaha…and please, don’t get all jaw-dropped when we walk away from your incessant chattering, because we don’t want to hear yours either. #justsayin’ Continue reading

Denver’s Big Fancy Schmancy and stepping out and meeting jesus. Why not?

19 Oct

Today is off the charts great (don’t let the picture fool ya) and I wanted to commemorate it with a blog post of awesomeage. As the title states, we’re about to cover two things: Denver’s Big Fancy Schmancy, and well, idiots. You’ll understand more when you get into that part of the post. Keep your britches on!

Denver’s Big Fancy Schmancy

Here’s the deal. Wait. Aside: To all of our readers that don’t live in Denver, :(. That is all. Just kidding. We wish you could be here with us. Next time? So, the Tweetup-pers of Denver are about to throw a party of epic proportions. By George, you’ve got it–Denver’s Big Fancy Schmancy. You like how I said that like you really guessed. I told you already with the title. Ha! As stated on the site, “It’s a reason to get dressed-up for absolutely no reason….” Why would you miss this? What Sport and I love most about this event is we’re going to meet so many of you Scoundrels. That’s right. We’re going to sop those lovely faces up with biscuits. (This is not as disgusting as it sounds. It’s a good thing. Trust me.) I’m not going to drone on about the tweetup because I want you to read about it for yourself. Get your arse over there, and take a gander.

theVar’s Weekly Rant: oh, I didn’t forget ya’ll

Dear Pedestrians,

My name is theVar. I’m not an aggressive driver. Okay, sometimes I am, but not in these circumstances. When I’m in my car, I’m not as vulnerable as you. Sure I can get into a car wreck and get hurt. Hell, I can even die. I’ve accepted this. Now when you are on foot/bike. You aren’t so protected. Setting foot off of a curb, when I’m approaching IN MY CAR, will surely spell you having a broken bone or two. At the very least, a concussion. <–This is what I pray for for you; however, I can’t promise that your ass isn’t stepping out and meeting Jesus. I hear he’s welcoming to moron’s, as well as his faithful followers. Who knows?*shoulders shrug*

Yours Truly,

theVar

See, ya’ll thought I was just going to bitch and bitch and bitch. No. Not this time. I just wanted to get that off my chest and make sure that today keeps winning. You know what they say. Throwing that negative energy out there will come back 10 fold. Nuh-unn. Not to me. That’s why I chose to write a peaceful letter. And be a good Samaritan. What? I am. I’m letting them know what I’m going to do before I do it. I even closed with ‘Yours Truly’. I thought that was a nice touch. Sweet, huh? I know.

Oh, and Scoundrels. Please don’t let that jackass stepping off the curb be you. I can’t make any promises.

You may continue with your kick-ass day now.

theVar’s Weekly Rant: Waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

29 Sep

image courtesy of http://triplem.com.au

Yeah. Shit's rough!

Mornings can be deceiving sometimes. Today I woke up, got dressed…made a little breakfast. The birds were singing. You know what I mean: all was right as rain.

And then the fucking switch flipped, and I became AssasinVar. Continue reading

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