Wherein I express myriad incredulities

Archive for November 2011

Do not want.

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Anyone else ever noticed that a large percentage of cats photographed for cat bed ads look sad and generally dead on the inside?

sad cat

This cat was drugged just enough to get him to stay in the bag, but not enough to make him look sleepy.

leopard print bed

This bed needs stilettos, Patsy and Edina, and a cat who looks like she doesn't need about 3 martinis to enjoy herself.

Also, there is this one angry-looking cat that has been Photoshopped into like 10 different ads in exactly the same position.

angry cat

angry cat 2

angry cat 3

My cat sleeps approximately 67 hours per day and would be happy to sleep in any of these beds so that prospective buyers can understand that they don’t really make cats as miserable as the ads would lead one to believe.


Written by fudgebudget

November 30, 2011 at 5:21 pm

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If weight was directly and negatively proportional to the amount of tea that a person drinks, I would actually look like the stick people that I draw instead of trying to draw real people in MS Paint.

Written by fudgebudget

November 30, 2011 at 12:11 am

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Overactive imagination

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My croissant from this morning, improved.

Overactive imagination

Written by fudgebudget

November 7, 2011 at 9:23 pm

Blindness-induced conversational ineptitude

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Sometimes I feel like a failure as a woman for my inability to be successfully social with any of the ┬ámany people in my life who have cut my hair. From a hairdresser’s standpoint, I am completely socially retarded (when this is only partly true). They must think I have absolutely no friends and that my life is super sad.

Every exchange that I’ve had with a hairdresser has been a weird and uncomfortable series of short, sporadic non-sequitors. Once we run out of things to say about my hair (which is un-dyed and straight … so not all that much to discuss), we’re pretty much done chatting until, “Okay, you’re done!” Which is hairdresser speak for, “Oh thank god that’s over. Great Clips has never felt so grim.

Maybe this is all because I am so freaking blind that when I take my glasses off for a haircut I second guess myself since I can’t read anyone’s facial cues. You could be 12 inches away from my face and if I don’t have my glasses on I have NO idea what you’re thinking about anything that I say.

I feel like the relationship I have with my masseuse is comparable to ones that normal women have with their hairdressers. My best guess is that this is because you’re not supposed to pay attention to your masseuse’s facial cues since your face spends most of a session in a padded doughnut.

The rest of the time, it is perfectly acceptable to just close your eyes since you’re supposed to be relaxing. Which I am getting progressively better at doing. My masseuse doesn’t have to do that thing where they shake your limbs until you relax them nearly as often as she used to. I feel like semi-regular massages have the added benefit of teaching me to be less neurotic. I like to think that they make me a more pleasant person all around. Of course a hairdresser will never have the opportunity to realize this unless I get LASIK.

Written by fudgebudget

November 7, 2011 at 1:51 am