Thankfulness in Fruitlessness

Ah Thanksgiving, the only holiday where we claim we’re thankful, and then spend the next few days literally killing people to get more stuff we want.

It’s the American way! Whoo!

When you’re jobless, the sales and bargains don’t apply to you because you’re already thankful for what you have you can’t afford anything anyways.

So, naturally, one has to get creative as to what to be thankful for.

It’s the simple things, really. And, yes, before MaterBaconia and LavaGirl and assorted friends, family members, and talking sinks start yelling at me: Yes. I am supremely, and very very VERY thankful for each and every one of you. You’ve molded me into the (psychotic) person I am, and you keep me going.

Thank you for being who you are, and for helping me figure out who I am.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

The State of the Blog (1st)

GNSNEEEEEEEEE FIS SGN?
?LSFNTS.HTML
THw#=English
Beginning Transmission:
Greetings, people of Earth.
We have your president.
He seems to have a high bacon content.
We'll be serving him on the side.

... other than that, nice place you have here. See ya around!

End Transmission.

Breaking the Ice Through Brute Force

The Interview.

If you didn’t shutter or nervously chuckle at that, there’s something wrong with you.

Interviews are like the Final Boss of the job search. If you win, music plays, you open the big chest, and DOO-DOO-DOO-DOOOOOO! Your job offer hovers above your triumphantly raised hands rotating.

It's your eviction notice.

This is a tricky place, however. You get asked questions and you’re expected to come up with good answers. Not *just* good answers, but AMAZING, SURPRISINGLY ELOQUENT answers that would make Cicero jealous.

"You leave me out of this."

And, naturally, when you’re away from the high-pressure area of Mr. Boss’s office, you can come up with some pretty good answers.

But when you go there,  you’re going to fuck it up. Royally.

Oh yeah. All the fucking time.

Yeeeah, there can be some pretty catastrophically awkward moments in an interview. And they are damned near unavoidable. One misstep, and it’s into awkwardland you go.

And no one can prevent it.

It’s impossible to avoid the ensuing onslaught. The best you can do is to follow some sort of procedure in order to either get out of the awkwardness or to brace for impact…

Everyone faces awkward moments. Just most don't completely implode when it happens. 

... this *might* be the reason I'm still unemployed...

Comment and share below! 

The Hall(mark) of Horrors

As the holidays approach, there’s many things to look forward to.  Cookies, decorations, Santa, food, presents; all these things just bring out the awesomeness of Christmas.

But there’s a dark side to this, as well, and any guy who’s been in a relationship before knows there are certain obligations. And these include, amongst other things, watching Christmas movies.

… specifically, watching Hallmark Christmas movies.

Know Thy Enemy

"What's a Hallmark movie?" you ask, stepping off from the plane you took from your native North Korea after hours of customs processing and hiding from the secret police. IT IS THE BANE OF YOUR MANLY, LOGICAL EXISTENCE. 

Every Hallmark movie I've seen (and, with 5 sisters, a fiancée, and a LavaMom who LOVES that satanic channel, I've seen too many THE HORRORS OF WAR), has had the following prognosis:

Middle Aged Female Protagonist's life is going sooooo well for the first 15 minutes. Then, it all turns to shit and she ends up alone (divorce, separation, or her 14 cats all died of dysentery). The next FIVE HOURS are then devoted to her finding a friend and working herself back up to an even better position than when the movie began, through a series of way-too-good-to-ever-happen-in-reality events. All the while, no matter what, you are perfectly clean, well dressed, and considered attractive by your alternate-universe's social standards. And, at some point, the SuperRichAndGoodLookingGuy™ magically becomes attracted to you. Of course, 3 hours of the courtship revolves around how "it'd never work." At the end of the movie, Middle Aged Female Protagonist is now happily planning her wedding to SuperRichAndGoodLookingGuy and everyone loves her so much and SHE GOT TO BECOME AN ARTIST LIKE SHE ALWAYS WANTED. YAY.

... oh, and it's all produced on a budget the size of my monthly allowance. (read as: 15¢)

Over the years being tortured by this shit, it’s become clear to me that there is a pattern that occurs every time a Hallmark movie comes on. 

Interestingly enough, it’s the Stages of Grief.

Stage 1: Denial

"Oh no, we can't *possibly* be actually watching this," you think. These movies are terrible. Surely she knows that! She MUST be just flipping channels...

Stage 2: Anger

You rise up from your seat, dazed, confused, and angry. YOU THOUGHT SHE LOVED YOU. Or at least liked you enough to NOT subject you to the terror that is a Hallmark Christmas movie. That level of cheese is dangerous to one's health.

Stage 3: Bargaining

You frantically search for excuses, reasons why, and favors you can do in order to avoid your fate. 

Stage 4: Depression

You have run out of options. It's all over and you know it. You will be forced to go through this.

Stage 5: Acceptance

You've been hypnotized into a mindless shell of your former self. You have no identity, no wants or desires outside of the fatal case of Hallmarkitis. Your personality has melted into a formless glob of cheese. You're a Hallmark Zombie.

Remember to share and like this post and others! And leave a comment, dammit!

On Scams and Sadness

Hello! Yes, I am alive, and I’m sorry for the wait.

On Friday I had an interview with a well-known company for an Asset Protection position. Basically, I’d be someone who watches customers and employees and make sure than safety is observed and that merchandise is not stolen or damaged. 

So, I showed up for the interview at 4:30 as I was supposed to.

And waited.

And waited.

… and waited.

Twenty minutes later, I was FINALLY interviewed.

And, naturally, one of the issues that came up in the interview was as follows:

Huh.

Well, if that wasn’t a bait and switch, I don’t know what is. I mean, come on, who does that?

So anyways, he listed a few things that ultimately had nothing to do with what I wanted. And, on top of that, they were all sales position, that were seasonal, and “they’ll extend an offer if you work hard.”

I hate sales. And I also hate being essentially lied to. It sucks. But hey, I need money pretty badly. 

So… I guess I’ll just take it.

The interview proceeded and then ended, and I was invited to a second interview.

“Awesome, I suppose.” was my thought at that time. It was such a let down to go there and be told “oh, they thing we called you in for isn’t available, BUT YOU CAN DO THIS INSTEAD, RIGHT?”

I had such a feeling of “meh” I could’ve been a hipster. It was ridiculous.

But I need the money.

So, I agreed to show up yesterday (Monday), again at 4:30, to take a second interview.

And, again I showed up on time.

… and I waited.

See any similarities here?

“We’re very sorry, but we filled all of our positions. We’ll keep you on file, though!”

… seriously? What made this place think it could waste my time, effort, and gas money? It was really upsetting in the moment.

There are a TON of scams out there that are technically legal, but unethical as all get out.

"It's not child abuse if they do it to themselves."

It is absolutely terrible. So terrible, I’m gonna make an infographic about it.

Best infographic EVAR.

And the thing is that they paint this picture like it’s a fix-all when it’s really a make-your-life-shittier.

After all this bullshit, I sometimes need to take a break and remember that it will get better.

Unless, of course, it doesn’t.

 Know of any scams? Just want to rant? Comment about them below! I promise I'll reply!

Also, leave a comment with any number 1-5 to select which topic I'm writing about next!

The Tale of the Jitterbug

Oh there's no place like home for the holidays.

No, seriously. It's crazy.

Every year for Christmas, my family does the whole "secret santa" thing. For our friends joining us from Mars, this is when you draw a name out of a hat and then your "secret mission" is to figure out what the person wants and then give it to them on Christmas (within budget, usually about $20 if I remember). Christmas comes and everyone's happy.

Now imagine a strange, cruel world where all of that is backwards.

That's what a Yankee Swap is.

This past year, we held a yankee swap within the family + LavaGirl confederation for the first time. Here's how it works.

1. You buy a gift worth maybe $5.00. Something cheap. And it can be ANYTHING. (More on that in a second).
2. You bring it, wrap it, and everyone puts it in a pile.
3. You pick a number.
4. Whoever picked number one picks up a present and unwraps it.
5. Number 2 picks a present and can then choose to keep it or swap it, and the swap MUST be facilitated. Then, that person's turn is complete.
6. Everyone goes through in order; you can swap with anyone who's gone before you.
7. After the last person it goes back to number one who has the last laugh as he or she can then choose to swap with anyone.

This is all well and fun, unless of course you have someone like me in the mix. Then it's anarchy.

Enter the Jitterbug.

No, I'm not kidding. This thing actually exists.

When I saw this thing, I knew I had to get it. This was the Yankee Swap gift. This terror that some woman in Idaho made simply to scare kids into therapy was perfect.

And, naturally, the results were amusing.

I had a field day. It was simply too good, and I lucked out in the Yankee Swap, so I didn't get it.

Or so I thought.

Sonuvabitch. My family sent it to me. While I was in college.

When my roommate saw this thing, he nearly had a damned heart attack.

Of course, it didn't help that I planted it in his bed first, but still.

For the next three months the Thing™ went everywhere.

It's still out there, somewhere.

Waiting.

Watching.

And Upon this Bacon I Shall Eat More Bacon

My brain is ceasing to function right now, so today is all about one thing.

BACON.

Congratulations. You are now a full member of the Church of Bacon (fully compatible with most religions). Welcome aboard.

To fully appreciate Bacon, however, it is clear to me that there need to be certain rules...

And now, onto the Proper Handling and Cooking of Bacon (I'd call it "kosher," but that'd be too ironic).

HANDLING AND STORAGE

1. Always handle your bacon lovingly and tenderly, like a newborn infant.

   

   And Patriotic

2. Be sure to refrigerate your bacon if you're going to use it before the expiration date. Otherwise, put it in cryogenic stasis.
   

MOST CORRECT METHOD OF COOKING BACON.

(And yes, I said cooking. Do NOT buy "precooked" bacon. Equate "precooked" with "subpar bacon-like substance taken from the unholy offspring of a turtle and a lobster." If you used precooked bacon, may God have mercy upon your soul).

1. Take an oven-safe tray (baking sheet, car hood, etc.) and cover it with tin foil to prevent the aliens from locking onto your bacon signature (and making clean up easier). 

2. Place bacon on the tray.

3. Place it in the oven.

4. *NOW* Set the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit, or 204 degrees Celsius if you're one of those pesky metric unit people. [Special Note: This is considered "a bit chilly" by LavaGirl]

5. Set a timer for 15 minutes. Once that's up, check the bacon. If it is doesn't look done or you want it crispier, leave it in, but be careful as you approach the 20 minute mark. If it looks good, it IS good. Take it out.

6. Eat your Bacon in its glory.

Yes, I know I've been completely off-topic these past few days. It's just that my brain has been rebelling against ever attempt to wrestle it into control.

~BlueCru