Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Spiderwebs




spiderweb |ˈspīdərweb|--
noun
A web made by a spider.

So this post is really two-fold: I hate spiders (who doesn't?) and I hate the goddamn webs they weave. Especially the ones they weave in Toluca Lake.

According to the ever reliable Wikipedia: "Spiders are found worldwide on every continent except for Antarctica, and have become established in nearly every habitat with the exception of air and sea colonization." This, my friends, is BULLSH*T. Shutup, Wikipedia. First, let's tackle the "sea" issue. Those little monsters have definitely found a way to conquer water (see: Diving Bell Spider), and while the Diving Bell Spider does not inhabit the sea, per say, it is well on its way. Secondly, I am no scientist, but I am pretty sure the whole point of creating a web is so they can catch their prey in the AIR. Have you ever seen a spider make a web on the ground? No. They weave their webs above the ground which technically means they have conquered the air. In case you have any doubts concerning the validity of the aforementioned conjecture, you are an idiot, and please click here --> THIS IS TERRIFYING. Ergo, spiders are scary and will eventually take over the world, one neighborhood at a time, starting with Toluca Lake.

Picture this:

It's dusk on a warm summer day in Toluca Lake, CA. The vibrantly colored trees and mountains of daytime now muted, enveloped in the sublime haze of impending darkness. A jogger sets out on her merry way -- equipped with an iPod and pepper spray (hey, you can never be too careful ladies) -- to relieve the stresses of a long day. She eases into a comfortable pace, her soft footsteps and disciplined breathing coalescing into the harmonious sounds of a cardiovascular symphony. She is happy. She is relaxed.

As she rounds the corner of mile 2 of her jog, she approaches a row of beautiful young pear trees lining the side of the leaf-stained sidewalk. She bows her head slightly to pass under the lower branches and foliage and to her horror, her face is instantly engulfed in an invisible web.

She breaks her pace abruptly and begins flailing her arms and wiping her face to thwart the invisible assailant. Passersby stop to witness the epileptic episode taking place across the street, watching incredulously as she frantically shakes her head, flips over her hair and scrubs violently. Onlookers, unable to identify what is vexing her, ascribe this seemingly random meltdown to sheer insanity. Little do they know, her attacker is stealthy, cloaked in the cover of dusk, each night weaving a silvery web and waiting patiently for prey to unsuspectingly jog by. Now, thoroughly exasperated, she spends the remainder of the run in a state of acute paranoia, swatting imaginary spiders all over her body.

A peaceful run, sabotaged by an airborne arachnid that rebuilds the same web in the same trees every night. Unable to escape the webs on her jogs, and tired of whiplash and failed attempts to relieve stress, the girl stops running outside. The girl stops running entirely...Andturnsintoafatlardwhoneverleavesthecouchgetsdiabetesandheartdiseaseanddies.

Case closed. Spiders win.

Someone get me some Raid.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Stuffed Animals Displayed in Car Windows

stuffed animal -- noun

A toy sewn from cloth, plush, or other textiles, and stuffed with straw, beans, plastic pellets, cotton, synthetic fibers, or other similar materials.

Newsflash: If you are an adult driving around with a teddy bear you bought for $0.50 at a yard sale or a gas station in your rear window, you are either a Mexican woman over the age of 50 or a rapist. Now if you are the latter, my fair ignoramus, it's blatantly obvious, because nothing says "I Think Toddlers Are Sexy" quite like a warped teddy bear holding an "I Love You" heart in the back window of your car.

First of all, there's the problem with your overall approach: If you are trying to attract the kiddies, you may want to start with something that doesn't look like it traipsed through a nuclear radiation plant. The decrepit thing sitting in your window is probably stuffed with crappy cotton balls and covered with chemically produced fur that makes polyester feel like 5000 thread count Frette sheets; It's practically radioactive. We're not talking about a teddy bear sewn with love and care, this thing looks like it was sewn together as part of a macabre ritual -- i.e. craftsmanship so grisly that only Mary Shelley, or perhaps Ed Gein, would appreciate. Add this to the fact that the thing has been sitting in the sun, transmogrifying from a rich brown to a discolored, yellowed, wraith-of-a-bear, and TA-DA, I bring you: Chernobyl Bear. You have a better chance of finding the Lost City of Atlantis than using the aforementioned monstrosity to lure a kid over age 3 into your car. Try taping "Fantasy Animal" Silly Bandz all over your window instead, sicko.

And by the way, proudly displaying Chernobyl Bear in your window isn't earning you any points either. The damn thing looks abused, isolated and imprisoned in your "Crazy Car". This is a HUGE RED FLAG to paranoid parents and even kids. Every self-respecting kid knows that the rear window of a car is roughly the equivalent of stuffed-animal-Auschwitz. You NEVER leave your plushies in the car; they get lonely or they might even suffocate in the heat. Clearly, Aspiring Pedophile, you are not the "friendly adult" or the "big kid" you are trying to portray yourself as. You had a messed up childhood that involved no affection, no toys, no love and no play-time otherwise you would know these things. You might as well be driving a big white Danger Van with the windows painted over. The fact that you are completely oblivious to the nuances of happy childhood would explain why you've incarcerated an innocent bear in your rear window that looks like you've been force feeding it hexavalent chromium instead of going the candy/ice cream route or even exhibiting something more appealing, like Zhu Zhu Pets. Congratulations, not only are you soulless, but you're also an imbecile, and every kid that sees that stuffed specter in your car knows it.

For the record: Your mother never loved you and neither does that bear, regardless of what the red heart says.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Doughnuts

doughnut |ˈdōˌnət| -- noun

A small fried cake of sweetened dough, typically in the shape of a ball or ring.

Ew. Dough fried in fat. Enough said.