Tag Archives: twitter

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!

Community:: #reverb10–Day 7

7 Dec

Prompt: Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

Image courtesy of http://brown.edu

I really wanted to bring you some mind-jolting, esoteric concept of how I discovered community in 2010, but the reality is, well, I’m not that smart. Besides, my discovery of community in 2010 has been so much more personal and everyday. I mean, my discovery of community has happened in 3 distinct, but not mutually exclusive, worlds.

The first being Twitter. Who would have thought you could make such great and meaningful relationships through Twitter? Hell, if you let my buddy Geoff tell it, Twitter is the spot between the twat and the shitter. Geoff, I’m here to tell you different my friend. Twitter has been the spot between my right and left ventricles. Yep. Snuggled right up in the gooey part.

My second discovery of community was right here with all of you. You scoundrels continue to rock my world–sharing your stories; imparting your knowledge, advice, and support for each other; not to mention giving Sport and I a grand ol’ laugh. All. The. Time. This is one community I can say I’m effing proud to be a part of, and I’m glad to see it growing daily.

The last community that has really been a driving force for me this year is the community of friends that I have around me. I am miles 10 times over away from home, and my  friends never fail to give me that sense of family here in Denver. To all of you, I say thanks, and let’s hug it out. I love you all.

I hope all 3 of these communities grow stronger (I’m talking about spinach-eating-stronger) in 2011. I look forward to more fun times and amazeballs experiences in each of them.

Now I present the same question to you: Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

Get off your arse, and say hi!

12 Nov

I’m constantly told that I’m a social bird–a fact that I can’t deny. If there’s an event going on, I am there, or at least I’ll try to be there. Chances are on any given day, I’ve double or triple booked and will either hit all of the happenings or missed them all entirely. Look. A social bird needs nest time, too. I choose to embrace the social aspect of living. However, I know many that don’t and won’t and find socializing quite difficult. That’s a concept I don’t understand. It’s so easy to say hi to a stranger and strike up a conversation. Be like Nike and… Continue reading

Somtimes I Ebb; Other Times I Flow

5 Nov

Wow, scoundrels. Let’s take a minute and talk about the ‘C’ word. Stop it! I’m talking about Change, not c^#t, but I like the way y’all think. *tisk, tisk* There has been so much going on lately. The leaves have changed and fall is here. We had an election this week that caused a lot of tectonic plate shifting. I lost a friend just as we were getting closer by the tweet. And last, but not least by far, I quit my J.O.B. If you’re wondering, the latter was to give more of my time to you! Just kidding. Only a little time to you. Just kidding. I’m becoming a pilot. Just kidding. I don’t like to fly. Just kidding. Just kidding. Just kidding. LMAO. Holy, ish. I crack myself up. Anyhoo!

Yeah. Wow. Change. That’s a pretty heady word. A pretty heady concept to wrap your mind around. For the most part, many of us are unwilling to tackle it head on. We are unmoved by the positive that could birth new opportunities from change. Continue reading

The dark side of co-habitation: Part 3 Let there be light

4 Nov

Around 3am this morning, I was jolted out of my peaceful slumber by a flying elbow to my spine.  Immediately following my groans of dismay was a slurred apology and then quiet. I thought of all the awful things I could do back to him for about thirty seconds, and decided that I was too tired to execute any plan of revenge.

Sharing the bed is still a work in progress.

I'm sure you're a nice person, but we do not like your face.

But then I think of how he starts my coffee in the morning before he leaves for work. And how he sits through 90201 while theVar and I go on about how Naomi is too orthognathic for our standard of beauty.

Last night I was talking with @DustinVan (the sexiest man on Twitter) (*touches self*)  and he asked me how the co-habitation was going.

Now, I’m not going to pretend that I can recall the conversation exactly, but I’m pretty sure I said the words “domestic bliss” at some point. And I meant it. No, really.

I’ve picked a good match for shacking up. Mike doesn’t make that truck backing up beeping noise when I leave a room – despite the fact that I’ve packed on 14lbs in the last 3 months.  He DVRs hockey games so I don’t have to sit through that shit. He lets me pick on the cats. He poops in the designated pooping bathroom. He doesn’t get all bent out of shape when I make horny cat sounds at Anderson Cooper (meoooow! *presenting*) He lets me be a complete asshole when I get a question right on Jeopardy and everyone else misses it. How do you make it on to Jeopardy and not know what an elegy is? That’s just asking for a smug remark from Trebek. Another silver fox, by the way.

Above all else, every single day, I know that he loves me and Smokey.

So there it is, Scoundrels. Co-habitation is working out well so far. I expect it to continue going that way  as long as he poops in the proper bathroom.

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

Guest Post: How to Live Like a Crazy Cat Lady (Minus the Animal Hoarding Thing)

16 Jul

[tweetmeme source=”talkthirtytome” only_single=false]

Amber of Monk and Mao is simply amazing. As she states in her post, we met her through Twitter, and she’s become one of the best people in our lives.  Sport came up with this idea to give a little blog love to others that have kindled the spark we have for blogging, writing, sharing, loving, and all of the heady stuff in between. So we’ve decided to give you some Amber today.

One of the reasons we’re doing this new feature is to show people that there’s so many facets of living the 30s. We also want to expose people to the out-of-the-ordinary that’s just as incredible as the day-to-day goings-on of our lives.  Without rambling too much, here’s Monk, Mao, and Amber.


Eleanor Abernathy
is kind of my hero. She was a genius kid. She went on to
earn degrees from Harvard and Yale. Then, at age 32, she freaked out
and discovered booze and kittens. Her life changed forever.

Eleanor Abernathy

Like Eleanor, I was an extremely smart kid. I was always in the honors
classes. I even won the gold medal in a state-wide analogy competition
when I was in third grade. Yeah, I was just that awesome. Sure, I went
through a goth phase in high school where I wore lingerie over
dresses, listened to bands I’m not going to admit to listening to and
ditched all of my core classes to hang out in the darkroom and process
photos, but I somehow managed to graduate. Then, for reasons that are
still a mystery to me, I decided that I wanted to go to college to
become an accountant.

I went to college. I got a full-time job as a bookkeeper. I dropped
out of school. I went back. I got promoted to Controller. I bought a
condo and a Benz. And some golf clubs, because accountants have to
have golf clubs, right? Then I dropped out again. A few years later,
when I was 27, I went back. Three weeks into the semester, I walked
out. Then I freaked out. I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do with
my life. I just knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in an
office. I went back to being a bookkeeper, but cut my schedule to 20
hours a week. Then I started drinking. I’m not an alcoholic by any
means. (Sure, I’m writing this on a Thursday night after three beers
and two shots of Jäger, but don’t all great creative minds do their
best work after a few drinks?!) Yeah, I was starting to figure out
what I wanted to do lose my mind. It felt fucking amazing.

Now I’m nearing 30, and you know what? I’m happy. Painfully happy. I
have time to do pretty much whatever I want to do. I go running,
practice yoga, take way too many pictures and try to go on lots of
weekend trips to the coast… But mostly, I hang out with my cats,
Monk and Mao. Maybe I’ll dress them up in silly costumes. Sometimes I
sing to them. I even named my neglected Etsy shop after the cute little
bastards. Kitty lovin’ is in my blood. My mom is currently the mother
of ten rescue cats and I blame her for passing the crazy cat lady gene
down to me. I’ve accepted that this is my future and I wouldn’t really
have it any other way. Are you jealous yet? Well, darlin’, you
shouldn’t be. You can be a crazy cat lady, too.

Obviously, you’ll need a cat or two. Let’s not be hoarders here. If
you don’t already have a cat, PLEASE adopt from a shelter like ARAS Colorado. Fuck pet stores
and breeders. Also, get your kitties fixed and DO NOT LET THEM
OUTSIDE. If I find out your cat is in heat and wandering around the
neighborhood, I’ll cut you. Real cat ladies are responsible pet owners
because they love their cats more than anything. Assuming you have a
cat (because you’d be a fool not to), let’s move on.

It is essential that you dress appropriately if you want to be taken
seriously as a crazy cat lady. The thrift store is about to become
your best friend. Old lady cardigans? Check. Strange floral patterns?
Check. Vintage lingerie? You bet your sweet ass. Dresses that fall at
an awkward length? Yup, they’ve got ‘em. And most importantly,
pockets. Pockets are key. How are you going to carry kittens around
with you if you don’t have pockets? Now, start layering.

Outfits

Remember, you can still look hot! Let a little bit of lace from a
vintage slip peek out the bottom of your muumuu. I also suggest
wearing a lot of black and acting like you’ve never heard of a lint
roller. You’ll be surprised how many people notice and comment on your
hairiness. Wear that shit like a badge of honor, baby.

Let’s move on to your home. My living room is very cat-friendly, yes?

cat hoarding

Wait, I mean…

Living Room

Again, the thrift store is your friend, especially when it comes to
buying furniture. Please don’t spend $1,000 on a couch. It’s just
going to end up with a hairball barfed onto it. Probably on a weekly
basis. You can find some pretty awesome stuff for under $500 if you’re
patient and willing to explore. I found my vintage couch at the
Salvation Army for $60 and I adore the thing. Ooh, and accessories?
Screw the cruel animal hoarding. This is where you really become a
hoarder, or, as I like to call myself, a collector. Yes, I buy every
old, blue, pre-1950 book I find. I also have more gaudy gold
candelabras than I’d like to admit. A dozen large ornately framed
mirrors? I needed every single one of them. In short, if it makes you
think of an 80-year-old Catholic woman, buy it and display it.

You’ll need a few hobbies to enjoy while you’re sitting at home
petting your cat. I’ve chosen embroidery (because I’m secretly an old
lady) and photography (because it makes me abnormally happy). Until
recently, my cats were the only subjects willing to let me take
pictures of them, resulting in probably 2,500 photos of Miss Monk and
Mr. Mao on my computer. Excessive? Fuck yeah. But look at how cute
they are!

Handsome Mao
Monk

Oh, and spend a lot of time on the internet. Especially twitter. How
else are you going to meet people crazy enough to let you use their

blog to preach your cat lady ways to the world?

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