Thursday, March 27, 2014
Framed as a ‘sustainability study,’ a recent NASA-funded project report reads more like a Walking Dead prequel. Although NASA is now distancing itself from the study, the findings have successfully rooted themselves deep in the brains of all literate paranoid-neurotics.
It boils down to this: If Western civilization doesn’t make drastic changes to its use of resources (read: by essentially instituting Communism), we’re royally fucked to the extent of total collapse in the next few decades. While one might appreciate a good scare-tactic as motivating tool, the researchers have significantly underestimated the apathy of the good Westernized people. We will be much more inclined to go out with a bang. And obviously, do our best to ignore the cognitively stressing steps that we could take to prevent our imminent demise. Too much workkkk.
Which leads us to this: The important next step of planning your Civilization-Is-Doomed Keg Party.
Tips for Throwing your End-of-Civilization Kegger
1. Buy some kegs. Depending on your social circle’s size and level of self-involvement, you could have a lot of mouths. Skip the Keystone Light and go for the good stuff - society is ending! (You may also want to take this opportunity to stock up on those giant bottles of water. Just saying.)
2. Get killer food. As civilization deteriorates, gaining access to quality, pure foodstuffs will look like a scene from Running Man. Also, other research shows us that fun foods like seafood, honey, and almonds will soon be nonexistent anyway so get while the getting is good. Let’s go with a menu like crab legs, organic butter. Pure cacao. Heirloom tomatoes with virgin olive oil and fresh herbs.
And don’t, for the love of god, compost any of your partyfood trash. Why bother now? Just dump it on my front lawn like those GODDAMN TEENAGERS WITH THEIR FLAMING HOT CHEETOS.
3. Invest in desirable party favors. Cigarettes (and any other tobacco products) are obviously going to be at a premium with our new-fangled Communist overlords. Your party guests will greatly appreciate a carton of Marlboros when they arrive at your shindig. Those Marlboros will trade on the street for a minor internal organ, like a spleen or gallbladder, in about 15 years. Throw in a couple of prescription painkiller pills and your guests will leave feeling like they got access to an Oscars grab bag.
4. Most of all: HAVE FUN! It’s likely the last time you will see the un-maimed faces of several of your closest friends. Embrace, dance to Pharrell, and go ahead and stay up til the sun comes out.
(The number of times we will get to see the sun rise is declining rapidly anyway.)
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Which genocidal autocrat is your spirit animal?
Which Disney Princess’s anus are you? *
How long would you last in Phil Spector’s bedroom?
Where you should you put your next dreamcatcher tattoo?
Which benzodiazepine will you OD on?
What slaughterhouse by-product are you?**
Which closeted 18th century writer would you deflower?
Which city should you try to start your inevitably-failing modeling career in?
Which Jane Austen character should you do meth in a public restroom with?
Which genital-shaped fungus are you?
Which one of your friend’s boyfriends should you seduce?
Which 1990s car should you have lost your virginity in?
What celebrity nudity are you?***
Whose Downton Abbey chamberpot would you be?****
How many dead kittens can you fit in your mouth at once?
Which Silence of the Lambs Buffalo Bill victim are you?
Which illegal sex fetish should you experiment with in your 20s?
Which breakfast cereal will give you colorful poops tomorrow?
When will you realize your solo album is never going to take off?
Which food-based innuendo is your vagina?
Which eating disorder should you REALLY have?
Which one of your friend’s babies is going to eventually murder them in their sleep?
Which corrupt politician would jizz on your jumper?
*Snow White was a bleacher.
**Horse glue, SWEEEET.
***I wanted Eva Mendes’ bush but got Michael Fassbender’s schlong. :(
**** Aw nuts, Lady Edith.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Friday, January 3, 2014
Hot bitches don’t make “resolutions.” Hot bitches SELF-COMMAND.
Eat more meals in the bathtub. A tub sandwich is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Plus the mayo drippings condition my skin. Hashtag #tubsandwich copyright Melanie LaForce 2014.
Avoid live music. It’s just the worst. I am always bored after 2 songs. If it’s a band that was completely formative to my life and I’m totally in love with, like Violent Femmes or the Beastie Boys, they might hold my attention for up to 20 minutes. If I’m also eating cheese fries.
Cultivate a sexier leisure wardrobe. My cut-off fleece snowman pants will no longer get me laid. I want sexy clothes that are French words like NEGLIGEE and POUTINE.
Increase portfolio of humiliative takedowns. Nothing boosts my self-esteem like being a bully. PWN more people. (Can I still pwn? Is pwning still something?) I will post countless inflammatory comments on YouTube, heckle sweating amateurs at open mics, and slowly chip away at my subordinates’ feelings of accomplishment. I will make barely audible passive-aggressive comments about the fashion choices of passersby. I WILL JUDGE YOU FOR READING NICHOLAS SPARKS ON THE TRAIN.
Figure out what this whole Macklemore thing is. Is it an edible Northern Pacific fish? A Transformer?
Create my own line of fortune cookie fortunes. Fortunes that don’t make me throw my cookie across the room. Life guidelines do not equal fortunes, dumbasses. My last fortune told me I had a beautiful smile. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? I mean, accurate, sure, but functionally useless.
Stop reading internet bullshit. I will stop reading articles titled “How to be nice to your fat albino Eskimo friend” or “Why my abortion saved my dog’s life.” I will stop taking inane quizzes that identify which frozen vegetable/Pixar character/extinct Pleistocene hominid I am because they are grossly inaccurate and non-scientific. Dear Buzzfeed - I am NOT Mulan, I am Snow fucking White, you bastards.
Stop making lists. No. Can’t. Will never stop.
Monday, December 23, 2013
*Extremely non-scientific assessment.
Events and Activities to AVOID until April, at least:
1). Watching Walking Dead. You’ve got the undead, betrayal, beheadings, and mosquitos. And how the hell are Maggie and Glen not getting repeated urinary tract infections from their dirty prison sex? And why hasn’t Daryl Dixon been given more air time?? It is all SO STRESSFUL. Thank god for mid-season break. Watch reruns this summer instead, when you can better cope with the Appalachian-biter nightmares.
2). Having unprotected sex. In case you weren’t freaking out enough, go ahead and add a pregnancy or STD scare. I mean WHY NOT?
3). Taking public transportation at rush hour. Winter transit on the train is a smorgasbord for your panic disorder. Not only are you lumped together, but everyone is twice as large, doubling their Midwestern girth with North Face and cheap faux fur. You’ll be hallucinatory sweaty, because despite the fact that everyone is layered in fowl by-products, the train heat is set to 82 degrees. At best, you’ll get unintentionally dry-humped by an elderly Polish woman wearing dirty mittens. Just wait til after the rush. Working late: worth it.
4). Donating blood. I know, I’m a jerk. But don’t do it, because I know you. You will get nervous, you will watch the needle entering your frightened vein...and then you will faint. And I heard they don’t even give cookies to fainters. Double up your donations when your head is right again.
5). Meeting new people. Sorry...(and I know you know this) but you kind of suck right now. You’re a downer at parties, because you can only obsessively think about how you might pass out if you can’t flee to hide in a bathtub in the next 20 seconds. You’re no fun really anywhere, because all you want to do is stay home and eat smoked gouda and watch Bob’s Burgers where it’s safe. (On a good night. On a bad night you catch yourself wondering if any of your parents’ friends have a holdover bomb shelter could just “hangout in” for a couple months.) There will be time for social excitement, and that time is called July.
6). Sexting. It just doesn’t work right now. Sample:
Attractive person: Hey baby heeeey.
You: I am 95% sure I’m currently having a brain aneurysm. (pause.) ...I mean, what’s up?
The hotties of the world don’t need to hear your uncontrolled, irrational death fantasies. It’s a bit of a boner-killer, I hear.
7). Trying anything remotely new, whatsoever. Now is not the time to attempt those high-waisted jeans all the kids are wearing because WHAT IF THE CIRCULATION ACROSS YOUR INTESTINE GETS CUT OFF? Maybe also don’t have sushi at the new joint on the block because CLEARLY THEIR HEALTH CODE ADHERENCE COULD NOT YET HAVE BEEN PROPERLY VETTED.
Just go ahead and give up. Crawl into that dusty corner of your closet and hunker down. We’ll meet for sushi ‘bout June.