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About tonight's ARIYNBF and everything else in my brain

Ok don’t cry you guys, but it’s looking like I won’t be doing an ARIYNBF show tonight because I have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Did you know I grew up with a father who always pronounced it “crap of dawn?” Not because he didn’t know the correct idiom but because he thought it was funny to say crap? I did. This is the same man who would bait his children into saying the word “tank” (as in fish tank) so he could quickly say “you’re welcome.”

But anyway, back to how I’m breaking your hearts tonight: I’m sorry my dears! It’s quite possible I’ll go live at some point but it will just be me and my overwhelming charisma, not me and my overwhelmingly charismatic friends. All this, of course, is also because I’m changing the show time to Sunday. Could you be more excited? I really don’t think so.

In other news, yesterday was a busy day and in the audition I was actually asked to discuss something I’m passionate about which, if you’ve been watching my show or listening to me ramble on lately you’ll know is something on my mind. I’m pretty sure the guy operating the camera appreciated the chance to listen to me pontificate about not only my passion but about the very question and what it means and blah blah blah. You might think I’m using “blah blah blah” as a space holder to indicate that I was longwinded but I actually said “blah blah blah.” Not really, but wouldn’t that be funny/horrible if I did?

Which all brings me to some dating advice Dustin gave me recently. He told me I needed to stop externalizing my interior monologue because guys hear me discuss all the stuff going through my head and attempt to parse it or find some meaning in it related to them when really it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just me thinking out loud and grappling with my colossal intellect. (I added that last part.) The deep irony for someone who over-analyzes like me is the idea that someone could talk and talk and talk and it would mean nothing which means all those attempts at over-analysis are futile. Perhaps I’m the exception that proves the rule. Or I’m a hypocrit. Oh no, I’m doing it again. And by the way, if you feel lost and like you weren’t able to follow the last few twists and turns don’t worry, I pretty much have no idea what I’m talking about either.

But on to more pressing matters: showering. Since I have to be up at the aforementioned dawn crap tomorrow I’m thinking I’ll shower tonight however I’m sitting here feeling like I also want to shower right now. A morning AND night shower in one day? That’s sheer madness.

Oh, also! I’ve been given clearance to post some portions of essays I’ve been working on. They’re long so I think I’m going to post them in chunks at the same time each day. It will be like a serialized soap opera, only not a soap opera. You know?

Just say yes, it’s easier that way.

Also, it might be 412 degrees in this apartment.

Also, if you’ve ordered a tshirt and you’ve been chewing at your pen caps wondering where it is, good news: the mailers I was waiting on arrived so I’ll be putting the tshirts in the mail ASAP.

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Puppies, wisdom teeth, Dustin, socks, hoarding, babies

I’m the kind of person who can feel attachment to just about anything, as evidenced by the way I name my plants and can’t bring myself to buy a fish because I know it would crush me to find Fred or Skippy (the name of my fish) belly up and to feel I had failed him. The irony, and now I’m not sure if that’s the correct usage of irony or the casual incorrect usage which eventually will become the correct usage since words are losing their distinct meanings and pretty soon we’ll all walk around “bemused” with “notorious” iPads that “literally” say “MLGHRF” on them and what was I saying? Oh yeah, the odd or unexpected thing here is that I can’t bring myself to buy a fish and yet I dream of having a puppy. You might be thinking, “Don’t you mean a dog? You know that puppies don’t stay puppies forever, right?” however I really just mean a puppy. I definitely don’t have time to deal with anything that’s losing cuteness and gaining size by the day. In fact, I fully intend to make any puppy I purchase sign a contract stating that either party may terminate the arrangement at any time.

I was thinking about attachment though because vronsfan2005 got his wisdom teeth out and tweeted about it and I got mine out some years ago and I was remembering that a few days before the procedure I was sitting in my chair at Time Out New York thinking, “These teeth will never be in this office again.”

I can also recall having trouble throwing away a sock many years ago, and Dustin (who is not my boyfriend! I realize that my blithe references to him may scare off potential suitors and I’m in  no position to scare off any potential suitors since my biological clock is ticking hard and I really want to get married and have babies immediately, in fact that’s what I tell guys I go on dates with when I explain that Dustin is not my boyfriend). Where was I? I really need to quit going on these long parenthetical tangents and then thinking I can get myself back on track. I’m a writer, so if anyone can I can, and yet it’s as if I’m driving a car and while trying to get back home I lose interest in retracing my steps and instead decide to just pull over and build a new different home. So my point was that Dustin is not my boyfriend, we’re just friends, but once  he busted me about my socks.

Anyway, I think maybe I’m a proto-hoarder. I have hoarding tendencies. Of course, I think probably everyone does which is why that show is so popular.

Oh and RSVP to my Ustream show on Wednesday, won’t you? It may or may not feature Jim Norton. It will definitely feature me talking about this whole online dating thing.

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A question about dating

So I was talking with Trevor earlier—Trevor who incidentally is today’s guest on The Daily Alison as soon as YouTube sees fit to get off its ass and finish uploading that piece of digital celluloid magic—and we began talking about dating as we often do. Well, first we talked about potential themes for Trevor’s next appearance such as Under the Sea or Jamaica Me Crazy or Cabaret. Then we talked about what we’re looking for in a significant other. And then Trevor began shooting the following question around to people he knows and I said that I wanted to pose it to my blog readers because I love them and I will not experience anything without including them. Love me, love my blog readers! So here is the question. Please weigh in:

If you could date someone who had only one exceptional quality and all else was average, what would that quality be?

I personally am choosing between smart, witty, funny, kind, and symmetrical. Lord knows I love a symmetrical man.

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Why am I single?

A lot of people wonder why I’m single. Often, in fact, they will leave comments to this effect followed by an “lol” and maybe one of these: 🙂 which I assume is to indicate that they wouldn’t mind having sex with me should it turn out that the reason I’m single isn’t because of anything grody like a raging case of the herps or that I’m psycho or have my period, like, constantly. You guys, it’s all three!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m not saying it’s cool that I’m single. I mean, hello, when am I going to give myself some grandkids?

But here is the thing, whereas I’m quite fetching on TV—I mean, anyone can see that—in real life I’m a total dogface. A real woof. A butterface. A ‘scepter head. A pogo stick (fun to ride but you don’t want to be seen riding it.) A spatula. A broom. A carrot peeler. (I have no idea what those last three are.) I mean, I’m a real oboe. A potato. A roomba. And my voice is like nails on a chalkboard and not only that, I litter all the time. Sometimes I throw other people’s stuff on the sidewalk just for fun so it’s not only that I’m irresponsible in an environmental sense but also I’m just cruel. “Oh I’m sorry, were you reading that?” I’ll say in a silky tone after snatching a blender manual out of someone’s hand and tossing it on the floor. “Try making a smoothie now, motherfucker!” I’ll yell, laughing maniacally and then going home alone on a Friday night.

You’d think with all my singleness my sock drawer would be super organized but it isn’t. It’s a real mess, like my love life!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my GAWD you guys don’t even know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, I ask a million questions during movies. Questions like “why did he do that?” and “what did she say?” and “did I call at a bad time?”

Oh and I like to light other people’s farts on fire which basically means I’m constantly accidentally setting my friends on fire.

And I have TERRIBLE taste in music. I enjoy jingles from commercials and the sounds of jackhammers.

And I grew up in a barn so I always smell like hay.

And I collect cows. My apartment is covered in cow memorabilia which I refer to as moo-iana. I call it “mom’s moo-iana” even though I’m not technically a mother to anyone besides my moo cows which are like children to me. Times were tough and I had to put a few of them on ebay. It was udderly ridiculous! OH NO I DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I always joke that I’m going to get mad cow disease from my cows but it’s more like they’re going to get silly human disease from me, you know??????? HAHAHAHAHA LOL HA.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


So yeah, that’s why I’m single… LOL… 🙂

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Nut Fondling

I kind of wish this was a video of us holding cashews but it isn’t. It’s a primer on the delicate art of nut fondling, filmed when we couldn’t stop laughing. Warning: immature adult content. [Allow me to add that there is no actual nut fondling nor even any nuts in this video. Grody!]

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