I Swear, Any Second Now…

Today is an auspicious day for posting. I mean, come on. It’s Easter and April Fools’ Day. That’s a great combination and it needs to be posted on, that’s what I decided… several weeks ago.
Then again, I also decided I’d post on Valentine’s Day. Something funny, slightly abrasive, mocking the absurdity of the overly commercial holiday (that started with death and now involves flowers and teddy bears) but eventually giving in and agreeing to compromise–we could celebrate Singleness Appreciation Day, and you could give chocolate to all the people in your life that just don’t care about this thing you call ‘romance’. (It’s been several years since the first time I was told ‘you’ll change your mind when you get older’. How old are we talking, here?) But, as you know, I did not post on Valentine’s Day, and it took me a good while to actually start working on a post for today… and there’s only one crook to blame.

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Wanted, dead or–actually, just dead, not sure you can find it in any other condition.

Now the question is, why? What makes this scoundrel such an evasive, tricky thing? We here at Locked Girl put our best men on this case, and here’s what they have to say:

“We really thought we were getting somewhere at first, but then we just needed to take a break for a while.” –Group A

“We weren’t getting anywhere. What was the point?” –Group B

“…zzzzzz…” –Group D

“Ooh, shiny!” –Group E

“…” –Group F, too busy playing Candy Crush

 

Okay, this is absurd. I’m going to have to do something about this at once. And I will, really, I will.

Just… give me a couple of minutes…

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I’m Just Here For The Pie

Well, it’s the day after Thanksgiving. And boy, am I relieved that it’s over.

I mean, Thanksgiving is great and all, but in my position it’s just awkward. See, I’m very hypersensitive(more on that in a future post) and one of the biggest ways this manifests is when it comes to food. Taste, texture, whatever it happens to be–most of the food I’ve encountered in my life I have utterly despised… it’s simply unpalatable. It makes life very difficult.

And Thanksgiving is basically a food holiday. That’s pretty much it. There’s reasons behind it and all, but the big thing that happens on Thanksgiving is that people eat

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…WHY?!

Anyway, I’m sure you can see why this is awkward. For example, yesterday the food didn’t all fit on the table, and I ate three things, not counting dessert. Count ’em–three. That was all I could handle. Thankfully they were three very delicious things, but still–that should serve as an indicator of how serious this problem is.

Luckily, dessert was also delicious. *winks*

 

In short, in case any of you looked at the world around you and asked ‘What do I have to be thankful for this year?’ the answer is that your taste buds don’t hate you(unless you’re like me and they do, in which case, well, you know what I’m talking about). That is what you can be thankful for. Take my word for it, your life would be a lot harder otherwise.

But also, be thankful for pumpkin pie, because that stuff is great.

Guess Who’s Back, Back Again

As you’ve probably already guessed, Locked Girl has returned from surgery… Locked Girl is, of course, still in the hospital. But she is alive, for those of you who might have grown concerned… Rather sore, but alive, and mostly fine. And not crooked anymore!

…Being on painkillers has certainly been… interesting. I’ve been somewhere between slightly loopy and fast asleep for the past several days now… and I’m definitely tired, my vision keeps blurring. This is unnatural.

*commence yawning*

But yeah, long story short, my back hurts, my stomach is kind of swollen, and I am in rather severe discomfort at the moment. There is basically nowhere that I can get comfortable. Which is only to be expected, I suppose, since I’m in this state. By which, of course, I mean ‘the state of recovering from major surgery’, not the state in which I live or the one in which I currently reside. As if that wasn’t enough, the drugs have been making it nearly impossible to write properly, which is insanely frustrating. Spelling and grammar mistakes are my enemies. And yet they keep popping up like a particularly persistent pestilence. For example, just a little while ago I first wrote ‘dedide’ instead of ‘reside’. How did I manage this fantastic error? I wish I knew. Instead, all I know is that writing on drugs is difficult. Don’t try it at home, kids. For everyone’s sake.

Tick-Tock Goes the Clock, and Holy Snickerdoodle That Was Fast

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By which I mean, holy snickerdoodle, that was fast. An entire month, come and gone in a flash… Poof! Now you see it, now you don’t, the year is quicker than the eye. Et cetera.

By which I mean, well, my dear readers, it’s that time of the month, and by ‘that time of the month’ I mean that it is the 29th of October, 2017, and tomorrow is surgery time. Pretty crazy, huh? I scarce believe it myself. Then again, everyone else is all in a tizzy over it, so I suppose it must be real… but to quote an eternally wise and eternally crazy person that I wholeheartedly approve of with every fiber of my nutty little being, ‘I don’t function well in reality’. Anyone who knows who I am referring to, go and get yourself a cookie, you deserve it, you awesome, beautiful person. Anyone who doesn’t know…

Well, you’re most likely part of a comfortable majority, so feel good about yourself, I guess. I’ll be over here with my hipster glasses.

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You’ve probably never heard of them.

Welcome to October, Have a Nice Day

I love sarcasm. I mean, I really, really love it. It’s so versatile. You can use it for mere snark, or to punch people in the face with words, since actually punching people in the face is generally frowned upon. Thankfully, there is no such social taboo surrounding sarcasm, allowing you to deal with all the annoying and/or generally stupid people you have the misfortune of having in your life, often without them even realizing that you just insulted them to their face.

Now you may be wondering ‘why on earth is she talking about this’? Well, the answer is that October is, among many other things, National Sarcasm Month! Unless you live in a different country in which case… well, it’s not like sarcasm becomes any less effective if you live somewhere else. Unless you speak a language that doesn’t translate sarcasm well. But then again, if you speak English as well, you can still be sarcastic, and if you don’t then you are left unable to read this and thus all of this rambling is a moot point.

In other news, we survived the apocalypse–

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This time, I will forgive you. This time.

Which should be no surprise to any of us, after the guy who predicted it said ‘wait nope never mind’. Guess I’m having surgery after all. Which is good, because it’s been scheduled and the date is October 30… so if I post something that makes no sense in that general time frame, it’s probably the painkillers.

Probably.

Or maybe I’m just being my usual incomprehensible self, which is always, always, always an option. Which reminds me of something else–October 6 is National Mad Hatter Day.

This pleases me.

And on top of all that, this month is home to my brother’s birthday and, of course, the creepiest time of the year… for those not lying in a hospital bed recovering from major surgery, of course. While I’m incapacitated, the rest of the world may, of course, continue as usual. Have fun! Dress up! Eat candy! Give your dentist enough money for that new yacht!

But for all of you who are still excited about It, well, um, you do you, but please do it somewhere else. Do not send clowns to my hospital room. Do not send clowns.

Please?

What Even Is This?

This is going to be a short one. It’s just been bugging me for a bit and I want to complain about it because it makes no sense.

To me, at least. For all I know, it’s perfectly sensible to everyone else. Not to me!

What am I talking about, you ask?

‘Waiting for my Romeo’. That’s what I’m talking about. People say that, apparently, and I don’t understand it, like, at all, whatsoever.

So you’re waiting for the guy that your family is going to hate, oh, and his family is going to hate you, too, huh? Or are you waiting for the guy that you’re going to find dead on the floor and commit suicide over? Or both?!

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This is my brain on Romeo and Juliet.

I mean. Okay. The play is a super popular love story and such. That’s another thing I don’t understand. Why is it so popular?! The whole ‘tragedy’ part could have been avoided if Romeo and Juliet had just communicated with each other, if they’d actually said meaningful words like ‘Hey Romeo, my parents are marrying me off to someone I don’t love so I’m going to pretend to die in order to get out of it, please don’t think I’m actually dead and kill yourself’ instead of spending what little time they had together spouting nonsense. I don’t know much about love. I’ll admit that. But I’m pretty sure that it has to involve actual communication and not just pretty words. There’s a time and a place for that(and that is away from my view, thanks). There’s also a time and place for not being stupid.

So basically the entire reason it happened was because two teenagers confused infatuation for love and were idiots about it…

Oh. It makes sense now.