Monday, November 24, 2014

Why An East Texas Weekend Can Cure The Soul... (Sort Of)

I ended up in East Texas this weekend and it was great. I'm not saying this in my usual sarcastic tone, but, an exclamation point after the aforementioned would've just been dramatic and/or exhausting. Which, speaking of, I'm beyond exhausted as I write this post about my recent adventure. Anyone who knows me knows my attention span, well, simply put, has zero span whatsoever; the drive back to Dallas from Longview this afternoon was so tiring. #FirstWorldProblems, I know. 
It must be mentioned, though, that as I left Longview I bawled my eyes out. Why? 20% was because of the glorious trees and blue clear skies and gorgeous hills; all that were so damn perfect. ROYGBIV was beautifully defined by East Texas, specifically, highway 20 East. (I think that's what it was?) The other 20% was due to extremely stressful events that tragically went down this past Friday, of which I'm not even close to being ready to blog about but that ultimately was just annoyingly there. Alas, the remaining 58% was because I had to say au revoir to one of my best friends (whom I rarely see), along with the extremely nice folks of good 'ole Longview, Texas. 
And yeah, I can do math. The additional remaining 2%, split in equal parts, went to hunger and tiredness. I'm basically an infant. What can I say? 
But, this spur-of-the-moment getaway turned into one of the best weekends I've had in a while. I forget how nice people can be. It was weirdly refreshing. Humbling, if you will. I mean, let's be honest, Dallas people are straight up b*tches. For the most part. There's nothing classy about everyone's extreme deficiency in empathy here. It's a sad thing but it is what it is and I choose to live here, so, fair enough. But, it's nice to be reminded every once in a while that humans are human. (More importantly, that humans are allowed to be human.) Fun is supposed to be had. Life is supposed to be fun. And that's just what the girls of East Texas showed me this weekend. 
Boy howdy. The East Texas folk are f-u-n.
I must give a shout-out to Katlyn Scott, one of my best friends from high school and a rare gem of a human. She may be country, and an Aggie, but she's never failed me as a friend. I've known the girl since early 2000's (weird to say "early 2000's...), and she'll forever be one of the few people I trust and can always have buckets of fun with. The same goes for her friends. Jesus. The homegirls were fun on a whole other level. Erin, Megan... you two are welcomed in Dallas anytime! 
This is Katlyn's gem of a dog, Cash. 
They let me have a breakdown in the middle of a street. They took me all over town and treated me like their own. They knew I was on a struggle bus, but we all have struggles, so we all just put our baggage aside (after my meltdown, of course) and had fun. No hierarchy bullsh*t. No fancy clothes, jewelry, or pretentious language needed. It was great. A blast, indeed. 
This is me with my portrait I did of Sir Cash. I'm super proud. Can't you tell?
So, I think I owe 'em at least a blog post. This one isn't long or even that great. But I'm tired so whatever. They know I think they're national treasures. But, it's here to say thanks, b*tches, for being there during a time when I need it most. For letting me feel normal. For letting me get my tears out and then go get my (awful) beer pong on. You guys are one-of-a-kind. 


Monday, November 10, 2014

19 GIFs Capturing Life's Essence & The Importance Of Memes To Minds...

Do I pronounce 'gif' correctly? Nah. Sometimes it comes out sounding like the peanut butter and other times the hard 'g' is heard. Neither confirmed for me by Google's 112,000,000 results or Siri's genius response of a Wikipedia page or the one Jeff contact in my phone. Joke's on me, though, for asking the robot broad saying Waco like "whacko," yeah? We all know this is Siri in human form...
And obviously here's every single human that would ever come in contact with her...
But my amateur coding skills and frequent HTML struggles on the Blogger embeds aren't suckers of my fun. Gif founder Steve Wilhite is a national treasure for inventing the gifts that keep on giving. Seriously, y'all. Yours truly had a breakdown at a Lovers Lane pet store this morning with dramatic tears and all, mostly due to sleep deprivation but over instantly once I saw homegirl here....
Is she not the most heavenly piece of HTML you've ever seen? Dear God I want to thank her for being so passionate. 
Life's moments end up being funny when heightened, regardless of the emotion looping over and over and over again. But my point here is that gifs are the therapists of media. So great. This one, expressive of my thoughts on Wilhite's much-appreciated contribution to mankind...
Finding the Beyonce gif for snark texts is basically a nanosecond of Christmas. Not because the two-second clips are free and in abundance but an entertaining way of life for queens of sarcasm or creatives with attention spans needing quick; I am both. Playing with karma fire for the sake of funny is totally worth it because...
And those plagued by the idiots who send aggressive texts in lieu of confrontational convo in real life; post idiot Facebook posts encryptions as cries for therapy or education; or tweet "behind every b*tch is a man that made her that way" B.S., after boasts of "nobody can hurt me without my permission" the prior week in attempt to go viral for #girlpower, were born for gif gems like this...
As for the moral police publishers with educated noggins, responsible of subsequent replies to the literally viral @KontradictingKaren crowd, why of course I say...
Unless Donald Trump tempers are involved, or my snarky fun would end up causing me controversy. Technically, I'd be voluntarily bullying those who voluntarily bullying in sending the gestures of a Christ-lover with a knack for comedic timing...
I'd say we're #blessed to have gifs like the legendary one below considered a staple in random texts to BFFs living miles away or needing Christmas cheer...
Alas, it's important to remember that those who lash out through technology are angry Reginas, who need to take a lesson on living life from giver of zero f*cks, the dancing debutante...
Gifs remind us that life doesn't have to be so serious. Or boring. Like those currently living lolz-free from those offended by the "evil" internet, and/or lacking the open-minded intellect that knows the truth in comedy, well... 
Most tech-savvy 20- and 30-somethings with an iPhone and/or appreciation of comic timing get when I say gifs are one of witty millennial life's greatest treasures. I could (and do) spend hours on giphy.com or scrolling through Riffsy app saving favorites for future texts, emails, tweets, blogs, posts etc. worthy of honest commentary. Nine times out of ten Judge Judy implying judgment on your behalf is a safe bet, with elderly as the only exception, because even she gets confused...
Lastly, when my teenage sister instagrams fifty selfies but won't respond to any form of virtual contact asking commitment of her or not beneficial to tangible wants I'm ignored. And once I see that she's read all of them as per the iMessage receipt feature she's ballsy for using, the only thing I'm #praying for is enough device charge to win the initiated wrath with big cynical sister pride, and so...
Followed by non-stop firing of gifs advocating subtly that actions have consequences...
And humility builds character so study that with this crown jewel...
Insulted by prior gifs, as to nobody's shock, I am further ignored. And eventually insulted, thus...
And then something along the lines of this, once I'm tired from failure in communicating to the queen of lashing out through disturbing silence...
Thirty minutes later I send this final reminder for sh*ts and giggles, because what happens in the end to a difficult blonde, sister to a brunette...
In conclusion of this monumental post showcasing my beloved gifs I say to any anti-gif lucifers as well as to the screen responsible for my eye twitching...

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Dinner In Italy, Improv Family Bonding, & Cards Against Humanity...


Shout-out to Kaari for her candid photos of kyle's purse loving one another...

yes we did the mirror shot. yes i
was confused.

Kyle's Purse had an official family dinner last night at Clarissa's. Not only does Classy Clarissa's place (as she's known by our improv clan) have the sickest views ever of the downtown skyline but some remarkable kitchen skill in meatball-making. Along with spaghetti, sauce, bread, salad, and hor douves-making, for that matter. The hostess with the mostess wasn't improvising either in being the evening's traditional Italian mama providing enough food for half of Italy nine weird-and-fun(ny) Americans, not ashamed in booze-bonding over damn good eats. Seriously, haven't had a meal that fab since going home for my own mother's cookin.' The best part? We learned improvisation together, therefore judgment does not exist in our tight-knit world; putting away soulful seconds in between the 240047 Shiners, Korbel, & Jack Daniels brought (and always guaranteed to be gone by Uber time) is second-nature for us.

clearly I suck at cameras... 
It's been a while since I've had cult time. Staying busy is nice. So are Forensic Files couch marathons requiring no pants at the abode I'm always grateful for, but that is incapable of providing human comfort needed by 20-somethings occasionally. Because, you know, sanity. The saying that improvisers are members of a (non-violent off the stage) cult is absolutely true. We'll always shout to the masses on how improv "has changed our lives" with excitement of border-line concern. But only improvisers understand this, we've all learned. Must be some gene we all share. 

More importantly, I haven't had any time with the goofballs I know who care about me and have my best interest at heart. Even when my social life may be on hiatus. Despite being witness to past behavior not even worthy of a Lohan, this hot mess is still appreciated. And loved. By open-minded people with intellect, questioning things and challenging others, in a manner only characteristic of the educated inspired just to live. Empathy for others is another strain in this shared "gene," but I thank God for that. We're emotional, eccentric, dramatic. But we love hard, and are passionate. (Obviously I was going to put a cheesy rhyme line here.)
when it all began... 

Alas, perhaps why the damn canker sores plaguing me recently (generally induced by stress) were nearly healed today is because I hung out with the only people on this planet to understand me on a whole other level. Coincidence? I think not. My day-to-days are unpredictable. Desiring my peaceful bed at day's end usually is the only predictable thing. Playing four hours worth of Cards Against Humanity with comedy people after a Tony Soprano dinner, and night resulting in so much fun that no stress or thoughts of first world life could exist.

awww... 
And that had me in bed by 5AM. Asleep at 6, thanks to Paco being dramatic while I Amazon'd the four other Cards Against Humanity editions, obviously. So my sleep schedule may be thrown off but Jessi gets home from Nashville in a few hours; I can't wait to catch her up on all my recent first world problems and newfound hobby. Because of course I love a card game only to be won by expert sarcasm and snark. 
Rush Limbaugh's soft, shitty body FTW!

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Paco tweets, #SingleParentProbs & 'Coping With Cankers: The Mallory Nutt Story'...

PSA: HTML lacking today, folks, mainly lower media at bottom, but please relish in these three snazzy pic faves from Perot last week (and where you can soon find me volunteering! #LydaHillFTW)...
I just tried to hop on the Yelp & give a 5-star for Hollywood Feed off Lovers, as I promised the girls who work there today for always being awesome. But 'hollywood feed' kept changing to 'fredericks of hollywood' so any patience left, gone. Rationality, went on vacay 48 hours ago. After this week something has to be in retrograde as I wouldn't even Yelp away for Pope Francis right now. Snarking away on here may even become challenging.
Why? I have two ulcers in my mouth, approximately the same size of a juicy fruit gum strip, each. And causing more pain than prior chopped index finger, flu shot stabbing, fractured big toe, & college formal hangover fiascos combined, repeatedly watching the gem below temporarily relieves. Solid foods? What are those? Dreams at night in a bed? Whaaat? Guinness World Record Book-worthy napping skills and chicken wing diets are of life, formerly.
Blogger erasing my special edition election post passionately-written for twelve hours, half ignoring a now therapy-thirsty Paco, is of concern no more. Slight lisp & awkward mouth positions acquired, is. Unconscious pain mechanisms adapting to agony (understood only by fellow fever-blister-getters) are sweet, but morphine... can one RX this at the CVS? Swigging sauerkraut juice three times as prescribed today from my fabulous Dr. D at Presby was a failure. On my end, of course. Little X laughed hysterically when it was confirmed I have working gag reflexes. [Cue Lloyd Christmas gif]
Aside from no Blood & Honey in the fridge nor desire/possibility of leaving couch to fix this, I've been single parent to Paco all week; AKA the one chihuahua-spooned. Jessi, my breadwinner roommate & (unsurprisingly) breadwinner authoritative figure to Paco needs to get back to Dallas, for my dramatic sake. Wide awake & restless but thankful for my #TeamWendy/Photobooth/Twitter prodigy's comforting company, always. See screenshot proudly embedded somewhere on here (Blogger's 20th century platform isn't HTML-friendly.)
Tweet's pic where neither of us can look into a camera; not
even commenting on the Gene Simmons tongue Paco
never forgets to reveal.
Tweet me @malloryjn or Paco @popedaddypaco


Alas, Paco made new global playmates (click here for adorable replies), Jessi introduced me to the gem of all gems below, & I could smile for embarrassing Photobooth selfies pain-free. Historical commemoration of a glorious day, if you will, Texas being the only exception. No moving forward on the human race progression calendar occurred here, but I'll keep supporting the superwoman that is Wendy Davis, for the sake of Larry "Secede" Kilgore creatures out there, albeit extremely appreciating the film clip where proclaiming tyranny as Texans' freedom to have a cell phone in the car claims to be unscripted. I mean, comedy this good had to be sketched, you guys.