I am starting a new special random spot called, "The Judging Queen." (Sing it along with us..ABBA is in the room.) That's right! You can't get it out of your head. Mwahahahaha!
I am going to be a little snark magical. That is common sense mixed with snarky...Poof! Magical.
Things will come up in our lives in random fashion that spark our passion. This is not sexual, so carry on at home and click off.
Some random opportunities might present themselves here. Or not. I am often moody. It depends upon my mood. Today I am in a mood.
I am going to clobber topics with my slimy, shady voice of somewhat reasonable standards.
That's right...my opinion.
If you disagree...say so. If you agree...say so.
If you are going to remain Switzerland...then act like chocolate.
Photo credit: Modification and embellishment of a photo from Pinterest.
First order of business: What is it about people never learning to respect personal space? I am in lines at the university and people get too close to me. It bugs the hell out of me. I move farther away and all be darned if they don't move closer, damn things.
Today, I had a Starbucks gift card from a health contest in the office. Got in line. Professor jumps right next to me, practically on my lap. It startled me. I was also instantly offended and frowny faced.
Is it appropriate to wave your arms radically around in the air and yell, "PERSONAL SPACE, PEOPLE! PERSONAL SPACE! I SELF DESTRUCT IN 2.3 SECONDS!" When did we start acting like sardines and lose ground. Or perhaps I need to get theatrical in the THESPIAN sense and have some jazz hands and dancing going on to clear the room. Seriously, it's squatter's rights. Back off!
Second order of business: I got involved in a Facebook discussion string...just reading it on the outside. I would say my friend, GunDiva, also got involved in another convo and a separate string. She commented. And they ate her alive. Well, in an Internet persona sense. She is still alive. I think. I didn't check with her this morning.
I enjoy lively discussions in person and online. There might be a time when I walk away, move on, or have had enough, but for the most part, I can hang. I also like to browse the crazies. There are some "whack jobs" (crazy as hell people) out there who have no qualms about typing like an illiterate junkie or bashing their neighbor. Nowhere did I see any Andy Rooneys, in fact, on any strings.
Time warp flashback: he was my dad's favorite on 60 Minutes and mine as well in later life.
Do ever go look at someone's profile after they have made a comment to see what they look like? I have. I find the hater baiters disguise themselves. Speaking of which, the next topic...those Anonymous creeps.
Photo credit: Pinterest
Really, dudes? You think dressing up like a Phantom of the Opera clown look alike with a big fucking "HOPE" stamped across your chest is going to convince me you come in peace to change the world? Bullshit. I'm running because all I see is Jason wannabes.
Guy Fawkes, you were one creepy effing dude. Actually, you were but mostly in personality sense, not in pictorial fashion. Well, maybe I waver. You have creepy eyes.
And in 2014, Americans made you into a clown. Mr. Fawkes, look down and to the right- below you-you are immortalized as a freak. Everywhere. In Ferguson, Missouri.
Photo credit: flavorwire.com
In fact, the Anonymous peeps added a little of you to a little Vincent Price and a little Jason flair and wallah!
Photo credit: Wikipedia
Nice stash, tho!
Hey, I am just putting it out there...I look like this behind the monitor...