To All Post-Apocalyptic Christmas-Celebrators

Ahh, it feels good to survive, doesn't it? Business as usual. I assume I'm the only one left doing my part as a blogger, discussing and documenting the world as I see it. So lucky you, live from Indiana, me! Blogging about the weather. There's snow. I expected that. I mean, it is winter, so I hope people didn't think it would be like, a summer apocalypse or something. Because that would be dumb of you.

America, of course, is the winner of the countries on Earth. Why not? I live here. It's only natural. Jesus was born here. He'd save America and all of our stuff. Jesus probably was just pissed because the end was scheduled before his birthday, and that's just not fair, so he decided probs to change our end of the world to, like, some annoying Canadian religion or something. That totes makes more sense.

Do you think there will be another apocalypse soon? If not, when? We need one, or at least, WalMart does because they made bank off of all the emergency prep tubs people stupidly bought.

The post-apocalyptic scene is pretty weird so far. Some bowling shoes, a Mayan-themed restaurant, and other totally random things. Like a car. LOL. Where did that come from? (Inside joke, haha, you totes wouldn't understand)

I just don't get it, you know? This whole Christmas after the apocalypse scene feels pretty wrong, if you ask me. Like, where do we get off making light of such a serious situation by bringing Christ our savior into this mess?

This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever written.

I'd write more, but the wolves are attacking.
To the future,
Alexis

I Am Not Wedding-Savvy

Was that not obvious before? Well, after this long-winded argument against weddings and marriage in general, you'll never have to wonder which side of the fence I'm on.

It didn't take me long to find some terrible wedding photos, since they're everywhere, but what I have here I took from TackyWeddings.com, a lovely website that reminds you to stay single and away from redneck weddings. Or all weddings, really.

Story time! Once, I went to a friend's cousin's wedding in my old hometown of Fairland, Indiana. It's a small town of only about 1500 folks who spend a lot of their lives never leaving. So it's only natural that someone would be getting married at nineteen, right after high school. That's part of small-town living. You grab onto the first nice boy/girl before they get a chance to see the rest of the world so that, if they leave, they feel compelled to come back to you. Or you love each other, whatever. This wedding was held at a pretty cottage house/farm where one of them lived, I think, and the ceremony/reception all took place in a barn.

This barn had crepe paper and sheets of colored paper haphazardly covering the ladders and the farm machines, and if you ignored the walls and the location, the rest of it could be considered as decently decorated. There was much pre-wedding food and music to be had, but as the friend to the soon-to-be-married cousin, I had to visit the bride and groom before they got to see each other. My friend wanted to check on her cousin, the groom, who was sitting in the first floor living room with all his dude friends, and holy Hell; the room smelled like forty percent sweat. It was horrifying to think that this one day could put so much fear into someone. He looked practically horrified. But he did propose, so I couldn't really feel sorry for the guy.

The bride was upstairs in a tiny bedroom with like fifteen women surrounding her. The amount of perfume needed to cover up the scent was apparently bucket-loads, since of course, ladies don't sweat. But, of course, my friend is a lover of all things wedding, so we lingered longer than I needed to.

When we finally went outside, I sat at a table (which was also the seating to view the ceremony, which meant that some people had to turn around to watch them get hitched) and waited for things to begin. It took forever. Maybe like two more hours. We even went back to the car and listened to music to pass the time. But when things finally began, the real magic started happening.

The groom entered through the open garage door, and the crowd hushed to silence while a Rascal Flatts song played through the attached speakers of a laptop. Somebody was arguing about whether or not the music should be on when the bride came in, which didn't happen until ten minutes later. It was long enough for the groom and his sweat parade to stink up the place. When the bride finally came, we could hear the shuffling outside the garage door, which had returned to a closed position so she could make a proper, 'grand' entrance.

Whoever was running the music had decided to leave the song on (the same song), but midway down the aisle, the song cut off. So the bride walked the rest of the way in silence. The song kept being turned back on and off, as if two kids were pressing buttons and fighting over the music. That eventually stopped and the wedding proceeded as weddings are want to do.

Look, I get it. You're in love. I'm not saying that all weddings are terrible. But they are pointless. If you need a lavish ceremony to keep some girl or guy from running off, there's really no chance that it's going to last long enough for them to learn to love you. It just doesn't work that way anymore.

And if you need a wedding to celebrate your love, you're wasting money and time. Unless you're rich out your ass. Then knock yourself out. But, for those who can't really afford an expensive dress or giant cake, why spend that extra money when you could put it towards something awesome, like a vacation or an awesome espresso machine or whatever it is people like now? That sounds so much more fun than having all your worst relatives kiss you and worrying about people smoking too close to the kids' play area or worrying that your dress will get torn or your bride will run away.

Or is it that you want to put on a show for everybody? Everybody, look at us, we're happy! We're doing great and you need to see this in order for me to truly be happy in a relationship. Or is it that you haven't been brought up any other way? You need to think that you're going to have a Disney happy ending where you get married and all is well forever. Well, it's not going to be like that. Stop assuming things will get better if you could just get married.

Because I am a studious and fantastic blogger with absolutely nothing else to do, I did some cost research and found out how much money people are blowing on this wedding junk.

Flowers: $698
Dress: $1,100
Cake: $5.60 per slice ($200-500)
Marriage license: $15-80
Photographer: $2980
Tuxedo: $100 (because I just know)

As you can see, it's already adding up. And it just keeps getting more expensive. Venue, decorations, potential honeymoon? Ouch. No money left for yourselves. I'm proposing a different approach.

To compare, I've thought about Brandon, the dude I live with and am happily in love with. We're not boyfriend/girlfriend, but we're together. It's difficult to explain, but it works for us. We don't talk about the future or force each other into things. We can talk about anything, and both of us know each other's weird histories and what we want out of life at the moment. And that's all. We don't need more from each other. We spend more time together than anyone I've ever been with, and it never gets old.

In contrast, I was with someone before him who really wanted to get married. It was all he talked about when we talked about the future. He even told me he was going to propose to me. And my whole life I'd spent fighting the issue and disagreeing with people who said I'd change my mind. But I was going to compromise myself for this guy. Thank heavens he broke up with me the day after Christmas. And now I realize how unhappy I would have been. Stuck in Indianapolis or somewhere nearby because he couldn't part from his family as a wife and probably mother to some hipster who didn't really have his head on right.

I don't like marriage. I've never liked it. I've never daydreamed about it or wondered where I would go on my honeymoon or made a pretend guest list. And now, I'll never have to worry about my guests doing the Thriller routine on the dance floor and posting it on Youtube.

NSFW Good Morning, Look What I Made

Good morning, 12/12/12ers. Instead of thinking about how you just missed the greatest time this year, start staring at this collage I made. That's right. I took the time to make this furry collage just for you, viewer, to stare and vomit as you like.

Seriously. This is the internet. Just go. Get a degree or something. I don't care anymore.

Reasons You're a Nerd

Google defines nerd as "A foolish or contemptible person who lacks social skills or is boringly studious," and in the same breath, "an intelligent, single-minded expert in a particular technical discipline or profession." Now, one of those sounds pretty attractive to the general public. You can guess which one.

I'm a nerd. I definitely lack social skills, and I search "define [word]" at least once an hour every hour. But I have had a problem with the word and the way people use it, because being a nerd is explicitly different from being a dork or a geek. Or a hipster. The problem I have is with the second definition up there. That, my dear readers, is the clear definition of a geek, not a nerd. A geek, if you must know, is a person that is interested, perhaps even obsessed with one particular hobby or 'technical discipline.' A geek is a high school trombone player that practices constantly because he loves it.

And a nerd is not "one who wears thick, black-rimmed glasses." A nerd is not cool. Nerd does not equal cool. At least not in the dictionary definition of the two words.

The point of this post is to discuss how I can't stand certain misuse of words, like "jealousy" instead of "envy." Jealousy is the fear of losing someone to another that you think is better than you. Envy is the feeling of wanting what another has. But "I'm so jealous" is so much easier to say than "I'm so envious." Doesn't quite roll off the tongue.

Anyway, back to nerdiness. Thanks to hipsters and their opposite-equals (fashion-following preps/jocks), being a nerd has become strangely cool. Revenge of the Nerds is no longer a study in weird, but something that almost everyone can relate to. When did being weird and nerdy become everybody's dream? It seems to be that being intelligent no longer exists. Being a nerd is now cool because being intelligent equals being a nerd now to the mainstream. Because you aren't a moron, you are now a nerd. You read books? Nerd. You don't party, but instead write articles? Nerd. You don't constantly have a beer bong shoved down your throat? Fuck, man, I must be a nerd.

Ugh, I have no points left to make. I'm going to go play Empire Earth. I'm done being a nerd now.

Une Exhibition Sexuelle

You probably won't finish this article if you are against women going topless in public. But I don't care. As long as folks pass religious laws, nobody is going to be able to make decisions for themselves on how they should be able to live their own lives. Just because you think something is sinful doesn't mean it is harmful to others. And passing laws against things like exhibitionism and drinking and smoking certain things is only going to make people more apt to do them out of rebellion.

There are only three states that have explicitly made going topless illegal for women, citing it as lewd and unlawful: Indiana, Tennessee, and Utah. But in many states, you may still be arrested for 'disorderly conduct' just for taking your fucking shirt off. Cool. So I was born without clothes, but Jesus hates seeing tits touched by sunlight. Makes sense.

Tits, whether you like them or not, are just part of a woman's anatomy, and in many cases, part of a man's anatomy as well. Men, fat or skinny, are allowed to run on public streets without shirts and in tight, bulge-hugging shorts, boobs bouncing in the sun, and nobody thinks twice. Sure, they may laugh at the tit-man, but he is not a study in lewdness. He's just a fat running guy. But what's the difference? Women use their breasts to feed babies? God forbid anybody see that.

It's weird how religious folks think that God constructed these beings but expects them to cover up his hard work. If it is a sin to show one's breasts in public, would God have created them? Wouldn't it be much more likely that the Devil created tits to lure men to him? Pretty easy job, as it would turn out.

By making boobs taboo, you have created a market for those topless snapshots that you consider so wrong. So much over-sexualization simply because it is something you can't see every day.

Now, don't be stupid and start believing that it was the Devil that created tits and clits. I just want you to understand that the female figure is beautiful, not sinful. And you should be working to make being topless legal instead of undermining your own equality by going all religious on us, ladies. Believe what you want, but it just doesn't make any sense to be a Christian and hate nudity.

Nudity is awesome. All-over tans and airing out parts that never get to be aired out. Your privates are stuck in half-dirty underwear all day long and you can't tell me it wouldn't be fantastic to walk outside without your heart beating like fucking crazy because you're streaking. Sweaty underwear isn't the only thing that makes nudity feel good. You are completely yourself, without some brand or style defining you.

What keeps you from enjoying nudity? The law. If there were no laws against public nudity, it would not be as big a deal. Yes, there are perverts. They can literally sexualize anything. But if people were desensitized to tits, it wouldn't foster pent-up rage about not being able to see tits. One less problem to worry about. Perverts are everywhere and you can't avoid them sometimes, but they don't attack women because they can see more skin. They'll target anyone because they are perverts, not because they see more skin. Perverts like the hunt, and aren't triggered simply by skin. There is more to it than that.

Boobs. Tits. Knockers. Breasts. Tits tits tits.

If you are still offended, you didn't understand my article. Visit/sign the petition at gotopless.org. Please stop being offended by tits, and don't start making fat dudes wear bras. Just get over yourselves already. Thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving and Such

Meanwhile, at TH Evan's, we're thankful for dick upstairs neighbors who stomp down the stairs and sound dumb, and the neighbors to our right who have a fucking nightmare child and slam lots of doors. Thanks for making us feel at home.

It's not bad living here, though. It's actually pretty great, save for those two annoyances. Quiet and pleasant and affordable and we can do what we want all the time. Pretty soon we'll do another podcast episode, but we've been busy playing computer games until I pass out, so give us a break.

Today is Thanksgiving, so no doubt you are reading this after hours, when things finally settle down and football game has been won. It's seventy degrees here and we're going to make cheeseburgers with real ground-up beef. No turkey, no stuffing, no holidays and no worries. After the weekend, I'm going to go to the gym right next to WalMart and inquire about my application, but we really aren't strapped for cash right now.

Thanksgiving has always been a weird time for me. I have no qualms about getting together with my family, but what are we really celebrating? Those jerk pilgrims who stole land and whose kids lied about it so they could eat a giant, hormonal turkey. Yum. And to top it all off, anybody in the family you're angry at is going to be there, including the assholes in the family who think they are better than everybody else and love to prove it and make people cry. That wasn't at my family's gathering, but at an ex's. So much fun. His sister cried and got drunk and the rest of the family got drunk and played annoying card games all night and drank Bud Light Lime. Gross.

I endured it, but help me if I didn't lie about needing to go home so I didn't have to come back the next morning. We luckily broke up before I could come to the Christmas party. Point is, holy shit, why? There is nothing less fun than going to a shitty family gathering where they have to warn you about a certain relative so you don't step on their toes later.

Lucky for me Brandon's family is awesome, but unlucky for anybody with a significant other whose family is shitty. You feel like a terrible person when you come back after an arduous meal with people you have no connection to. Aren't the holidays supposed to be cool, or does that die when Santa Claus dies?  Why do we keep up appearances when almost everybody hates the holidays? Or at least pretend Santa Claus exists.

Looks like the only way to enjoy the holidays is to be eight years old.

This is where we'll be spending the holidays. Hanging out with a microwave box we use as furniture, a console television, and plenty of computer games. And trying to tolerate the dicks upstairs.

Fancy Livin'

I wanted to save this next article for tomorrow, but we've got time to kill in the library, so I guess here we go! Yesterday, after a very extensive one-apartment complex scouring of the city, we got approved for a cheap as fuck one-bedroom place in Fayetteville, AR. Like the last place I expected to live, but it's great here so far. Tomorrow the apartment will be ready, so we're just wasting the day until we can start buying stuff to put in it.

No more van living after tomorrow, at least, not really for a full year. We don't have an endless supply of cash, so this is necessary or we will go broke and really be homeless. We already bought a coffee maker, but that's because it was three dollars and it could fit inside the van. I just applied to a gym for a part time job, only because I can leave the apartment and I'm already halfway to the building. It would be fantastic.

One of the many perks of the location is its proximity to everything we need, like a WalMart Neighborhood Market, a Walgreens, food stuffs, and a liquor store bigger than the Walgreens. I want to get a bonzai tree and try to keep it alive the whole year. And there's the UARK Bowl where they have open mic nights for the weirdos.

I guess after this, the blog posts won't be about me as much, but I'm pretty busy lately, so I'm trying to compensate I suppose.

Til the apartment living next time

Alexis