Hulk, Freddy Kruger, & Me

Hi World. 


Many of you have seen my latest glamour shot- the Freddy Kruger neck? Which by the way one can't get unless one "builds to that."  God graced me with having perfect skin in my teenage years and most of my 20's... when I hit 32 years old, I no longer had good skin and instead I looked like a bad after-school movie on teenage angst. 
I decided about a week ago that I'd try ProActive AGAIN and this time I wouldn't puss out and not do it "by the book." (unlike previous attempts when I decided that I was too awesome for steps 2 & 4) Don't worry, this blog isn't about acne. 


So...For the last week I've been "by the book" on the ProActive treatment as well as being "by the book" with every aspect of my life currently. I've been running myself ragged with multiple gigs on the same day, plus running my own booth at various trade shows across the BIG FAT state of Texas. I sold my prized drum kit in order to start this business and made a lot of sacrifices to ensure that I would be able to not only help myself but help out my family too. THAT is/was a mistake...the helping of my ungrateful ass family.  


These bucktoothed slobbering "simple country folk" of rural Texas have lost their charm to me.(this isn't about my family) Once upon a time when I lived in Los Angeles, I would've given my entire torso area, plus tax, as a gift to the gods in order be in the presence of "simple folk from Ruraltown USA." 


Now, I understand why all "virus outbreak" movies happen in rural towns in Texas because they are all one dog bite away from being post-apocalyptic mouth-breathing groaners. All of them. You want a stereotype, there, I just gave you one and I f*cking mean every word of it. 


I saw a lady that looked EXACTLY, NO LISTEN TO ME, EXACTLY LIKE A BULLFROG WALKING UPRIGHT. WHAT DNA STRAND SLOUGHED OFF OF INTO THE OUTHOUSE TO CREATE THAT?! anyway... back to my story... 


*By the way, when I say RURAL, I'm not talking about suburbs here people... I'm talking about places where the sign says, "Quinlan 6 miles, Fate 7 miles(that shit is real) and You are currently in UNKNOWN FM DISTRICT 775." I was in the last one on that list. *


Why was I there? There are these things here in Texas called "Trade Days," and you pay a price to rent an area of sacred ass Indian burial ground land (complete with Skinwalkers) to sell your goods to the surrounding villages of mouth-breathing groaners. Well, I can't be sure about the sacred Indian burial ground part but I think I'm onto something with that. Anyhow...


 Some days you make good money and other days you make rashes on your neck. A quote was said by L.Kimes recently on one of these journeys, "If I hear one more southern accent I'm going to pop someone in the testicles." I should mention that I thought I was doing everyone a favor by saying "Why don't you guys run the booth this weekend, I've got other gigs and can't be there until later in the evening..." This was no favor on my part. 


I might have lost Kime's friendship and respect over this "favor." My brother, Chancho, who tries his best to irritate everyone around him as much as possible (because it's how he has survived for 30 years...deep psychology there, folks) is along for one of these journeys into the abyss of DUMBF*CK County Fair Trade Days. I dropped off my brother and L. Kimes off at this rented space which faced the sun and had a backdrop of galvanized steel... perfect for cooking a rotisserie pork loin or your head. 


 Here's where it gets real f*cking funny... 


I had another gig going on simultaneously and you know what it was? Give up? 


I had to be(brace yourself)... A Mime...at a grocery store. A MIME. AT. A. GROCERY. STORE.  And you know what else? The pay was greater for 2 hours than if I worked half a week doing 10 shows @ 3hrs each show on THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH. How in the hell does that happen? Well... it did. I paid for my good fortune with a 3rd degree chemical burn on my neck thus giving me that Freddy Kruger look that is so sought after in Cosplay circles...which I am not into by the way for the record. Apparently you can't wear ProActive in the sun with grease paint a'top of it or you create a melty molotov cocktail. 


Moving along...After mimin' it up at the Central Market for overly entitled rich assholes who buy 12 dollar blueberry fucking muffins, I checked my phone and there waiting on the lock screen was 7 texts from my peeps manning the booth.  


Text: 
"We sold a puppet to the corn guy next to us. That is it." 


"Do you think there is any way we can get our rental money back on this?" 


"I think we need to leave." 


"I just found out the other trade day is 1 mile from here and is packed with people." 


"No more vendors are here. It's just us in an abandoned parking lot." 


"Let us know when you are close by." 


"We hurt real bad." 


I get into my car, drive 50 plus miles to retrieve my product and my people when I get to the frontage road I can clearly see their sunburn faces from 200ft away. What happened the rest of that day can only be explained as... well... they were angry, burnt, and probably severely dehydrated... I however, had plucked chicken neck and when I turned my head to specifically the right, my neck would bleed. I found this out the hard way, in public, at the QuikTrip down the street from my house. The guy who works there that I named DeadBabyJoe asked me if I was okay? I call him DeadBabyJoe because he was going to have a baby and I went to Ringling, etc.. when I came back from tour I said, "How is that baby of yours!" He replied, "it died a year ago today." I said, "Oh my God! I'm so so so so sorry!!! How is your wife doing?" He said, "She divorced me after the baby died." Well, fuck. 


The next day I try to make metaphorical lemonade out of the rotten lemons of the previous day's woe. I schedule another booth at a trade expo way out in Hunt County. In order to get a good space you have to be there by 7:00am. It's about 60 miles away so that means I have to get as soon as I lay down- the night before. (don't worry this gets better) 


My brother is one of those people that you've never met before because he's fucking insane. He gives no information when you need information, he will stare at you when you ask something in an emergency setting and when you want him to shut his face he will give you a fucking play-by-play of his stupid buttfucking Star Trek online game. He's fucking nuts...here's how I know he is... because if he read this rant he would feign laughter and stomp his feet in toddler amusement over how he was talked about negatively... it's fun for him to be hated.


 Riding in a car with my brother is the worst, it's probably worse than camping out in the Vietkhang without a rape whistle, knife, or a mosquito net... but you know what sucks even more? Working alongside my brother while he's trying to "shoot the shit" with the buttfucking FROG PEOPLE! 
It's like they all have a secret handshake, a codebook for retards. They change their voice when they get around their "own kind" and go from being semi-coherant to grunting squawks. I had to listen to this kind of thing for 9 hours out in the hot hot hot sun...Here's a real sample..(I'll write this phonetically, sound-it-out people.)


"heyl mane dere I cun see yoo gut yer sum lil'ol'puhhpets. how much'n yood say dey g'fer." 


Give up?
Translation: "hell, man, there I can see you got your some little old puppets. how much 'n' you would say they go for." 


Guess what... any way you fucking hear that shit it's fucking wrong!


The guy who said this shit "had indian in him" because he had to tell us that... AS ALL THE WHITE TRASH PEOPLE HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT FUCKING HAVE INDIAN BLOOD IN THEM... they fucking don't.


 They are from the stock of humans that scooped up filth and put it in baskets to dam up the moats so the Crocs didn't feast upon the noble's horses. They are the people in scene from Monty Python's "Holy Grail" that say, "there's some lovely filth ov'here." Every time one of these white trash filth hoarders says they "got Indian in they blood," the baby Jesus cries.  I should mention that this asshole had a mullet with a long long long thin n' mealy french braid down his back. He told us he would sell us some more stock of puppets because...something something... couldn't understand... and then he said,


 "Cuz I cuhd run y'all out'tere wit wut I got but I 'n't gon' do dat y'know, but heyl I sail 'em ta yoo fer heyl bout two fitty tree fitty peece." 


Translation: "Because I could run you all out of here with what I got but I ain't going to to that you know, but hell, I sell them to you for hell, about two fifty three fifty piece." 


My fat ass brother understood this asshole and said, "Heyl, that is a pretty guhd priiiiiice." 


I know what my face was doing as if I was looking in a mirror. I could feel the muscles in my face dying. I had to watch this guy pitch me something and then mildly threaten me in order to get me to buy his stock at a wholesale price. I guess I was supposed to feel as though this was a favor? 


Aye, there's the rub. This Cigarbox White Trash Indian was doing me a "favor" in the same way I did a "favor" for L.Kimes and my brother the day before as they sizzled on Planet X selling puppets to NOBODY for 8 hours. 
Instant karma I suppose. They got sunburned, I got a chemical burn that transformed me into Freddy Kruger from the chin down.


The moral of this story is that I now understand why rent is higher in urban cities and it's not because it's supply/demand. You have to make it higher because GOD FORBID any of the FROGS and Cigar Store White Trash Indians came into the city to breed. Holy shit we can't let that happen. If you don't have a gun, go and get one because if these people in the surrounding "UNKNOWN FM 755 TERRITORIES" get wind of you "havin' things," they will slowly schlep their way to your house and talk their way into your front door and sell you broken shit at premium prices while threatening to "run you out of your own house." 


If you wanted to prank call the people who run this hell hole flea market I've decided to list their number at the bottom of this blog. Feel free to ask them philosophical questions, life advice, or any sort of deep inquiry you may have... I can promise you any response you get will be comedic gold. Mark my words, they will not hang up on you right away. They don't mentally process things that fast... you will get a solid 2 questions in before they start to "figurin' yoo is full uh shit." 
The guy that answers the phone has a 4.2 second delay when you ask him questions he DOES know the answer to... "How much is the rent for the space this weekend?" (count to 4) 
"Thirty Fi' buhhhks." 
So I can only imagine if you asked him something like, "What do you think the future of Nasa's involvement concerning finding life on other planets will include?"  


(Spontaneous Combustion Sounds...BOOM, Sizzle, Drip, Drip...Dial Tone) 


BucktoothedRetard Flea Market Guy THAT RIPPED ME OFF: 
469-569-0448

That Ain't Gonna Hurt Ya None

I remember hearing the phrase, "that ain't gonna hurt ya none, " more than I heard my own name as a child growing up in rural Texas.

I was talking to someone recently about this and it dawned on me- the truth of that phrase, and how it previewed terrible accidents, food poisoning, and various vermin bites/stings, etc...

I woke up this morning with a request from my Dad to help him steady a ladder. Simple enough. Not simple. I had no idea that my father was going to be climbing to the top of the ladder with a chainsaw rigged up to a pole to cut down a LARGE tree branch that was nestled in between 2 power lines. I kept asking him, "Dad, it's too high for you to reach it." He agreed. So instead of aborting mission, he gets a rope and ties a large hammer to the end of it to "lasso" the tree branch thus pulling it down and tying it off to a post in the ground. The hammer was barely hooked on the branch and all I kept thinking about was how this could easily become a Three Stooges Fail resulting in death by: hammer to the face at full force, tree branch falling on me, tree branch falling on my dad who was on a ladder holding a pole with a chainsaw attached to it which then would all....fall on me.

I said, "Dad if that hammer comes unhooked from that branch....." He interrupted me with, "Melodee, this ain't gonna hurt you none." Fine. You win.... until you don't win. Until you lose...hard.

When I was around 8 years old and out in the middle of the woods with my Dad I saw a beautiful snake. I knew it was venomous and he told me to "move the snake out' tha way" so he wouldn't roll over it with his giant wheelbarrow. I said, "Um... I think that snake is one of the bad snakes." His reply... "that ain't gonna hurt you none." I moved the snake. I was bitten by that very snake. It was venomous.

My uncle, Dad, and brother told me to eat a fist full of these wild berries that grew on out in the fields of South Texas... He called them "Dewberries." I was a fat kid with a pension for sweets so I ate the hell out of those berries. Within seconds my mouth was numb, I couldn't feel my tongue, and my eyes started to water. I ran back to the farm house and couldn't explain myself properly and I was met with laughter and pointing. I cried and they said, "Don't worry, that ain't gonna hurt you none."

My family has a problem with understanding expiration dates on food items. I have been a fridge nazi since I was a little kid because I throw things away with expired dates clearly printed on the side of the package. My family flippantly ignore expiration dates and I think I've even heard a few family members say "they don't believe in them." Well... they exist? Right? Yeah, they exist. I realized later in life when my family says, "I don't believe in..." what that really means is, "I am choosing to ignore that detail."

Very recently I was plagued with wicked food poisoning/stomach virus pot luck surprise. I realized that the culprit was my Mom's own version of consolidation. She consolidates expired things with non-expired things as a sort of trash alchemy. I busted her doing this a few days ago with some really really really old cheese. She was trying to mix a bag of new fresh shredded cheese with old rotten putrid cheese. I confronted her about this and she said, "Well, Meluh'dee that ain't gonna hurt you none, you just bein' silly." No. No. No I'm not. I'm not being silly when I make a full sprint at 3:30am into the bathroom and have my head stuck in a toilet for 30 minutes while I moan and audibly cry, "Why?! Oh God.... (puking noises) Oh why...Oh God..."

While I do believe that people now are contributing to "global laming," by not disciplining their kids, forcing their dogs to be vegans and feeding their newborn babies pre-chewed food (*Alicia Silverstone).... There has to be a middle ground between everyone being afraid of everything to everyone saying there is nothing to be afraid of. I don't think one kid in the USA under 10 years of age would've made it a week growing up in the 1970's and 80's. Example: The slide at my elementary school was at least 25 feet high, made of solid stainless steel and if you fell off of it you would hit hard ass gravel. If you used the slide in the summer months wearing shorts (we did) you would get 2nd degree burns on the back of your thighs and sometimes on your arms if you tried to "slow yourself down." Nothing about this was okay. We played with cinderblocks, threw rocks at hornets nests, pushed each other off the tree house, dared each other to belly crawl through barbed wire fence. For most of my childhood I was covered in scabs from turfing it off my BMX bike because I decided it was a good idea to launch off of something really sketchy. If we had any fear as young Texans about doing any of the dangerous activity surrounding daily life, we were told, "that ain't gonna hurt you none." I can very clearly remember being covered in rocks and blood with a nail sticking out of my foot and hearing that phrase with the tag line, "you is alright Booger, put some Camphophenique on it." Most of the times I was told to rub some type of over the counter shit on my wounds is when I most certainly needed medical attention.

All the years of therapy in my 20's and hearing shrinks say, "Your biggest issue you need to deal with is your inability to ask for help when you really need it." I get why that was hard for me to wrap my brain around after realizing that most of the time I was told "that ain't gonna hurt you none... You is alright."

You know what though? I was alright. And though I don't agree with consolidation of rotten food-trash alchemy, playing with venomous snakes, or running barefoot through a field with rusty nails.... I do agree with not living in fear of germs, playground equipment, or occasionally reaping the reward of living dangerously.

It's April Fools day and I'm patiently awaiting a nice slice of "dewberry pie."

Afterall... it ain't gonna hurt me none.

Commercials That Turn Me Hulk

I think everyone will agree that the following blog will be full of comedy and rage. If you don't agree by the time you finish this blog, you should watch TV for one hour and commit to understanding why I was prompted to write this....

Below is a list of the commercials and a description of why I hate them.

1. Dove Soap Queefy Scat Song: There is a commercial with 3 dentally challenged females of mediocre appearance in granny panties who are giggling, frolicking, and rejoicing in their moisturizing body wash from Dove. If that wasn't annoying enough, the song that accompanies the frolic is some high pitched singer who is doing a "jazzy scat" to the children's song... "The tail bone connected to the hip bone... the hip bone connected to the leg bone... etc.." The worst part- there are 3 key changes in that queefy version of the song and with each key change the "frolicking" increases as does the gigglin'. This song will get perpetually stuck in your head for a minimum of 3.5 hours. I woke up to this song this morning and my day has sucked ever since I heard it. It makes me want to set myself on fire.

2. Fuck "Flo"- I hate Flo. I hate her. Progressive Insurance "Flo" can suck it. There isn't anything cute, adorable, funny, attractive, querky or anything about her that is redeeming. I don't understand why she has a regular gig or why the makeup department doesn't put some fucking bronzer on that bitch. Toss some honey colored highlights in her hair or dye it fire engine red or slap a B-52's Love Shack wig on her... somethin! If they are going for a "rockabilly" look or a "vintage housewife post WWII" thing... it isn't fucking working. Tease that bump on her fucking head a bit more and curl the ratty ass ends of her hair. Do it. Do it now so that somehow I can "get it"... Did you know they sell Flo Bobbleheads?! They fucking have merchandising for her plain ass! I'm sure someone in the marketing department took an improv workshop with her and thought she was "fun" and brought her into the audition and somehow drugged the casting directors enough to where they were impressed with her vapid expressionless face. The newest ads are trying to show "Flo" in her "environment" which looks like a 12 year old boy's bedroom and she's fucking "dreaming about insurance," 'cause you know, it's "cute n' all".... it's fucking not. Who dyed her hair with chestnut dk brown from Clairol? Who? Nobody can have that hair color unless you are the coloring of Salma Hayek. Nobody. To top the chestnut brown flat hair, you put the lightest makeup on her with a solid black line of liquid liner... no shading... and then and then and then you slap the worst shade of red lipstick on her real thick... She is a chinless wonder. I've written letters to Progressive Insurance asking why she is the spokesperson and to investigate the "good feedback" that came in because I'll bet money those letters came from a retard day camp.

3. General Insurance- The shitty animated "General" who has a fucking Penguin sidekick? The fuck is that about? It's like the animator had a fully "done" Penguin in the stock footage file and through it into the production contract for "good measure." This animated General hangs out with a Penguin and goes to clubs n' shit with him... it makes no sense at all. It's terrible and every time it comes on I want to.... set myself on fire. The latest version of this ad is in a comedy club setting with a "cute" hispanic guy trying to fake doing stand-up... it pans to the audience and the fucking shit ass General animated guy is slapping his fucking knee and throwing back booze. Guess who picks him up in a red corvette from the comedy club? DING DING.. You guessed it... the fucking Penguin is driving that Corvette and they are headed to their urban loft or some shit I guess... I don't know I hate it. I hate hate hate hate it. It's the most half ass bullshit I've ever seen. I think they used Microsoft Paint to color in the animation... It's like the quality of someone who is going to Dallas Art Institute and working on government funded Dells with Windows 98. Want proof... just watch...

This is the short version...

4. The winner of the worst commercial in the fucking world is SUBWAY.

The song... Five Dollar Foooootlooong.... is the worst shit I've ever heard in my life. Period.

I did the music theory on it and there is no music theory. It's the same note for 2 bars and down a half step/rinse & repeat. It is from the devil. I'm sure if you played it backwards it would have embedded lyrics like, "Dark Lord of the Syth eats babies in hell."

5. Kit Kat- Don't make mouth noises an intrinsic part of the marketing of your candy bar... just don't. (SNAP, POP, SMACK, CRACK, GULP, SMACK, SIGH, SNAP, SMACK, CRACK).... STOP.

6. YOU CAN'T MAKE IT- Mariah Carey's Jenny Craig Commercial... This shit will wake you up and find you in a cold sweat of fury. I won't even talk about it. If you have 30 seconds to spare just watch the link below... This commercial came on back to back (same one) the other day when I was struggling with a load of laundry and it actually made me throw the 17 pound bag on the ground and scream...

That's enough for now.... These commercials are the reason intergalactic communication isn't happening. Aliens are wondering why "the monkeys" are buying Flo bobbleheads, why Penguins hang out with military officials, and why 40 year old women find it absurdly fun to bathe while listening to a toddler's learnin' song.... It's why we can't have nice things... from space.

Mel's 2012 Predictions

*The content you are about to read will provide insight on hilarious opinions and poor utilization of ancient prophecies relating to 2012 as I see it. If you read this and decide to become a dick and focus all your energy on telling me what is what, you will, without a doubt, get on the next list I write entitled, "People I'll Beat with a Bat in 2012." *

1. Newt Gingrich- Sometime in the next 45 days, a leading biologist from the University of Florida's genetic research department will release stunning information about the possibility that Mr. Gingrich is distantly related to the Red River Hog of North America.

2. Mitt Romney will not be elected President of the United States- because his name is Mitt.

3. NASA's chief spokesperson will finally come clean with factual information about Roswell, New Mexico stating, "The large concrete underground bunker located in Area 51 is nothing more than a skating rink for retired USAF pilots... built by extraterrestrials in 1948."

4. The SyFy channel's show, "Face Off," will have a controversial season finale in which the make-up artists remaining will be asked to actually take someone's face off.

5. In the spring of 2012, Snooki from "Jersey Shore" fame will be thrashed by the once thought to be extinct Megalodon shark off the coast of Tampa Bay. The world will be more focused on her death than the miraculous resurfacing of a pre-historic shark which in turn will be the catalyst for every crypto zoologist in the world to commit suicide.

6. In March of 2012, Lady GaGA and Madonna will produce a Hybrid in the top secret Montauk Research Facility named, "Gadonna." A series of poorly produced Japanese sci-fi films will be the only result stemming from the creation of 'said' hybrid.

7. The famous news anchor Wolf Blitzer will at some point transform into a pants shredding werewolf on live television during the Presidential debates. He will continue to moderate in a reasonable fashion.

8. Censorship will reach an all time high by November of 2012. Most media will contain mostly beeps and black digital boxes that will hide 76% audio/visual of any program on network television thus making future generations of children speak in a language of tonal patterns while covering their faces with large black cardboard boxes. Experts will support this by stating, "Statistically speaking, the generations born from the years 2008-2012 are less likely to do anything at all, so it is our scientific opinion- they are safer than previous generations."

9. In October of 2012, aliens will land in various locations around the world and subsequently make the executive decision to leave again for another 3000 years because humans were too busy typing their 'status updates' on Facebook to notice.

10. HLN's Nancy Grace will eat both of her toddlers in a ritualistic ceremony to honor fallen soldiers in Afghanistan.

11. Stephen Hawking will be the first person to break warp speed in his brilliantly designed wheelchair only to discover that Planet X isn't handicapped equipped. He will return to earth but due to a miscalculation of .0000001 millimeters, he lands on the top of a stairwell in Toledo, Ohio and suffers acute brain damage upon impact.

12. The term "cabin fever" which was a term to describe feelings of restlessness during times of inactivity indoors, is now being studied at UCLA's Medical Department as a possible explanation of obesity in the United States. Dr. Monty Pietzo states, "It's come to our attention that inactivity, lack of sunlight, and exposure to comfortable settings with adequate food supplies is the link to obesity & cabin fever." By default, in 2012, brain damaged housecats will be allowed to make public statements on behalf of the UCLA Medical School Program. (the study was real, and it made the front page of Yahoo News a month ago.... no shit)

13. "Flo" from the "adorable" Progressive Insurance commercials will be shanked in an alley in Ft. Smith Arkansas by the Geico Caveman... and nobody will care.

14. In 2012, any adult involved in "Cosplay" will be arrested & flogged by ancient Centurion weaponry specialists. The government will go on record making a public statement about why the arrest and subsequent flogging techniques were performed, "they are defective units and we hope by beating the dumb shit out of them they will become effective units."

15. Christina Aguilera will suffocate herself when she is performing the popular nursery rhyme song, "Song that Never Ends," to a 3rd grade class in Santa Rosa, California. A gripping 911 call will describes how Ms. Aguilera kept doing unnecessary "runs" within the song- the song that never ends. By the third time through the song, the 30 year old singer began turning blue and appeared to "be in a great deal of physical discomfort," said Ms. Rosella, the 2nd grade math teacher who will be helping out during the assembly. Lastly, the police will issue a statement saying, "Christina died doing what she loved doing -which was unfortunately extending notes frivolously without taking the proper precautions regarding a never ending song..."

16. Reality television will run out of ideas until someone suggests something groundbreaking that will involve actors, a fake environment and something called, "a script."

17. Animal Planet's show "Puppy Bowl," will combine with the NFL's "Super Bowl," as a co-species event. This will not happen again. Many hearts will be broken, many emotional scars will never heal.

18. Hipsters everywhere will become disheartened when a new sociological study reveals that they aren't progressive, cultured, creatively understated, or cool in an uncool way.

19. Sasquatch will be honored in the Presidential Fitness Award Ceremony with, "The National Hide & Seek Champion Lifetime Achievement Award." Other notable nominees will include, Amelia Earhart, Jimmy Hoffa, D.B. Cooper and the money he took.

20. The Galactic Federation of Planets will issue a international statement of apology for the host of "Ancient Aliens," hair.

Mental Rambling 2012 Edition

This is an attempt on mental house cleaning. Nothing more, nothing less.

So far 2012 has been an eye opening adventure of house cleaning on a cerebral tip.

I've seen all these fear driven History Channel, Science Channel, Discovery Channel, Younameit Channel about all the "holy shit watch your ass it's 2012," shows and I am pretty sure with the collective consciousness of everyone being completely scared shitless about prophecies, solar storms, global crisis'... we are going to manifest the chaos ourselves.

I realized last night on a long road trip at night in my 1998 Saturn SL complete with headliner flaking off in my face, engine rattling, and faulty brake lines that if a UFO landed 25 feet from me on the side of the I-44, I'd be inclined to stop and ask permission to board the craft. It can't be THAT bad people... it really can't. Experimentation and all, I'm kinda okay with that. I'd experiment on humanity too if I were me, which I am, so I say "go for it." For anyone out there who thinks I have an obsession with aliens... you are correct. It is far better and more entertaining of a thought than being obsessed with handbags, the Kardasians (or however the fuck you spell their name), Jersey Shore, or the political debates. I'm done with worrying about my credit score, I'm finished with being helpful to people who want a chunk of my soul's light for their own human experiments... like the experiment of "Let's see how much Melodee can handle... it'll be real fun to watch her get rocked by our malevolent intentions."

I'm not a pessimist though. I just like to laugh at the way it actually is sometimes.

Here's an example of that.

For Christmas I received the most worthless gift you can give someone... a JC Penny's gift card.

I don't need that. I need the money that is loaded on that card. I can't buy gas, but I can buy cheap cargo pants and ill fitting bras because I can go buy FIFTY dollars worth of that.. but I cannot, CANNOT, afford to drive to the JC Penny's. That brings me to my point... I had a bright idea. Have you ever have one of those, I did, and next time I'll just let it go. I have a friend who owns one of those "CASH FOR FUCKING GOLD," stores and they buy sterling silver, gold, and other nice shit. They always give me a fair price and I've made rent buy selling jewels that I no longer want. So my bright idea? I decided to go to Penny's and get 50 dollars worth of the clearance Sterling Silver jewelry to sell to my buddy at the Cash for Fucking Gold store. I failed. NO, JC Penny failed me. I took 50 dollars worth of the clearance "sterling silver" jewelry to my friend's store and he said, "It is worth $4." NONE of it was sterling silver. It was in boxes that said "sterling silver" but it was NOT sterling silver and it was worth $4.

I got into the car and wept. I wept. Did you guys hear that? I wept. I've heard the that the shortest line in the bible is, "Jesus wept." Now I understand why. He went to JC Penny's and got rolled. He had a bright idea to make some cash with his Jewish jewelry friend and they told him he was going to get $4. FOUR fucking dollars.

Well... I thought I could catch a break that day but NOPE. I kept the shit ass jewelry and I'm going to take it back to get $50 bucks back on my JC Penny's card so I can buy cheap cargo pants and ill fitting bras.

On my long road trip... the one I mentioned where I began pondering on how fast I'd run toward the alien spacecraft... I had a bug bite that itched like a son of a bitch on my back, and I got a simultaneous leg cramp in the leg that counts when you are driving.... I swerved and I accelerated... the swerve was because of the back itch, the cramp caused the SPEEDING TICKET that I received within minutes of this whole chaotic nervous system failure. I tried to tell the officer that I had a bug bite and a leg cramp but I realized that if I continued to give him a LEGIT excuse for my speeding, he'd probably give me a sobriety test for "talkin' too much in Oklahoma." I'm sorry for anyone who truly loves Oklahoma because I'm here to say, it blows. I'm sure that the natural beauty makes up for the people but if you are contemplating running toward an alien spacecraft to be experimented on, you probably shouldn't live in Oklahoma.

My other favorite thing is when people (in Oklahoma) break the boundary with you immediately when you stop to get food or gas. Every time I've ever stopped in Oklahoma to get gas, the attendant will immediately launch into a monologue about how something fucking awful happened to them recently. You begin wondering if God himself is giving you a "warning of similar ill fate" when this happens. Especially if you've been rolled at JC Penny, received a speeding ticket, and realized you'd run to a alien spacecraft instead of living another day with life's curve balls- that is when shit gets real and you think "Pam" at the "Kum n' Go" must be a messenger of God telling you to buy Fix a' Flat through her perilous story of being stranded for 13 hours with a convicted rapist in a semi but "if she only had that can of Fix a' Flat sooner she would've seen her daughter that one last time before they all got shot in the backseat of that cab in Michigan." Anyhow... I started thinking, "maybe I need to buy Fix a' Flat?" I didn't buy Fix a' Flat.... because they don't fucking sell that at JC Penny's.

That is all.

In space love,

Melodee Lenz

Welcome to America- Home of the Fear

Yeah... I'm talking shit about our country. This won't be a political thing... I don't give a rats ass about politics because it really isn't going to change anything... it is the people of this country that suck ass. Afterall... WE are the majority.

I'm not blaming anyone in a political position because they are but a few. It is the rest of us retards that are making things suck balls.

I was waiting for inspiration to hit me this morning and it did. I turned on HLN (News channel). I probably don't need to say anything more but fuck it, I am.

The first thing I saw took place in Hollywood. A "crazy (and now dead) gunman" was walking on Hollywood boulevard shooting at people when this guy started video taping him out of his apartment window and shouted at him, "Hey Madman. Hey, shoot me, I want to die. God Loves you man. I love you man, ".... his motive was to "distract" the gunman. You know what? It fucking worked. The police show up and end up shooting this 26 year old drug addict who's girlfriend just dumped him... yeah, he's dead now. (FACT: the gunman didn't kill anyone, 5 people are injured though)

Anyhow... This guy who shot the video DID distract the gunman but it's obvious to me that EVERYONE'S MOTIVE EXCEPT THE GUNMAN, WAS COMPLETELY BULLSHIT. The gunman's motive- simple. He's clearly on drugs, he was out of his mind, terribly sad, and Los Angeles will make you want to get a gun and start poppin' people in the mouth..drugs...drugs...... anyhow.... where was I.... Oh I remember- everyone is full of shit. The guy who was "distracting the madman gunman who's mad" by video taping him and shouting that "he too was in the mood to kill himself but thought he wouldn't because he saw this guy doing what he was doing," etc.... He didn't call 911.

He didn't. I guess he assumed that the best thing to do was fire up the video camera and distract the rabid depressed junky until the cops show up to blow his brains out on the street after he had "settled down." Everyone wanted to get attention in that situation... everyone needed their junk rubbed. The cops got to wear their "big pants" today, the gunman got to die from his sadness, and the Royal Douche in the window with his iPad gets to be talked about on HLN/CNN/FOX, etc... Everyone got stroked.

Anyhow.... I realized something. It doesn't matter what you do or don't do anymore. You will either be blamed for being a danger to society/breaking the rules... or the same action could get you numerous interviews, a book deal, and a Presidential "Fuck You're Awesome" Award.

It matters not. So what is the defining moment of judgement? Why did this guy who video taped the now-dead junky w/a gun get ridiculed in the media when only a few months ago someone video taped a guy being mauled by a fucking bear and he had a cell phone, a gun, and was supposedly "distracting" the bear from ripping his friend's face off..... How much of a distraction are you with a video camera verses if you decided to put the camera down AND FUCKING SHOOT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING GUN YOU DICKHOLE!!! The media said the bear guy... video taping the bear mauling guy was "a great friend and courageous camper." FUCK YOU. GO AND FUCK YOURSELF.

Let me say this... If I had a fucking friend who decided to fucking video tape my face getting raped by a motherfucking grizzly bear instead of using the SHOT GUN that is in your other fucking hand..... that "friend" is not my friend any fuckin' more. Thanks "friend" for capturing the moment, the worst moment of my life...you know the one... when my face was ripped off by a fucking bear. Fuck you.

Anyhow... Here's another news title that is on... "Car plows into crowd, hitting six people, appears to be speeding." No! Speeding you say? I imagined he casually PLOWED into a crowd.

Get this... they interviewed 7 people about this story. The interviews were about as deep as this..."I saw the car and man I thought he' be goin' fast and then BOOM man... he done ran into the crowd." Of course they can't just have the ignorant fuck talking about it so they had to "back up his story" with the 32 year old software developer from Seattle who said, "Yes, I was on break and to my surprise I heard a loud crash and realized that people were hit by a car. He must've been speeding."

FUCKING BEAM ME UP. Nobody died in this event. Nobody. A guy was speeding, lost control of the car because the roads were slick, and he fucked up and stopped his car with people's faces. That sucks but nobody died and that is the REAL story there. Not that he was mysteriously "speeding." No fucking shit.

Last thing.... The Biggest breaking- fucking- what- the- fuck- holy -shit- News of the day is this.... (and this is on 4 Networks right now)... (drum roll needed)

"A recent scientific study has proven that drinking excessively leads to HIV."

Right.... just like spinning myself around in the front yard leads to me being in a mental institution. There is some shit in the middle of ACTION to END RESULT.

This above "scientific study" cost 5 million dollars and took 6 years to gather data that a fucking bucktoothed slobbering mountain man could figure the fuck out. They figure out that when they drink they "git nother kid." They "prolly figur dat strong drank git ya intah' big time truhhble."

So these "scientist" who spent millions of dollars on a study of "what happens or can happen in one particular situation when you drink a lot..." Those scientist were partyin' hard with that money and then crapped out some results to keep their funding going to future "no fucking shit sherlock" studies. Here's the thing that makes me fucking see red about all this...

More people than not are sitting in their living room or at work or whatever and they will see this "new study" and because of the way it's worded in the press, they will become incredibly fear driven and will at some point preach this information to someone who they resent for partyin' too much.... at which point the partyin' person will continue to party/drink because they will feel that everyone one around them is fucking retarded so they might as well keep drinking so they can get AIDS and then die. (I'm joking of course.. about the Aids part)

They will continue to drink excessively though because even someone who is shitfaced is going to know that HIV is NOT linked to drinking.... Your whore ass is but the booze is not the bad guy. YOU are the bad guy. If you a stupid enough to fuck everyone without protection, you'd do that with or without alcohol. They call their "study" a Cause & Effect research study. If I spill my Diet Coke on the floor today and don't clean it up fully then possibly in 1 year I might have a higher chance of ants. This is assuming a lot. This is assuming I never clean that spot again and routinely spill my diet coke without cleaning it up. So one could say that Diet Coke drinkers are linked to Slothfulness.

So... do you think I can get funded with my study?

"Stupidity is the leading cause of all things terrible in the motherfuckin' world."

In the time it took me to write this blog(about 20 minutes)... the guy in the news that video taped the gunman in the streets of Hollywood..... he's gone from being "irresponsible" to "he may or may not have saved lives... expert strategist weigh in." By 8pm tonight he'll be interviewed by someone via Skype.

I really hope the aliens land soon because I've already packed my bags and boy will I have some shit to talk about with them while we excessively drink, shoot guns into space, contract space AIDS, and video tape our friends getting mauled by Wookies.

I Hate Hipsters (Part Deux)

I promised you all a second rant.... Kristen Walker takes the wheel.... Note: The dialog below is actual text messages between Kristen and I. Nothing added, nothing taken away. Enjoy.

As a comment on the topic of hipsters in Mel's previous post – which is perfectly spot-on – I will include the EXACT verbiage of a recent text conversation between Mel and I. It began with us bitching about a former mutual friend of ours who was being flaky and difficult. I started off the rant. Please note I am including THE EXACT WORDS, verbatim. A slash like this: / means a separate text.

Oh, and in order to protect his privacy, we’ll call the guy we’re talking about at first “Bunghole Jones.”

Kristen: He’s a hipster. He wants social interaction to be complicated cause then that proves he’s busy and important… If he just said hey let’s meet here at this time, he would look “simple” and “easy.” Hipsters want to look like they have a lot of shit going on in their lives They would admit to dropping a baby before they would admit to being free on a Saturday night.

Mel: You are so right. Bunghole Jones honestly is probably sitting in a bar by himself right now. / He probably just got out of a “venue” of like Mumford & Sons and is drinking Buttered Whiskey Tart or some gourmet drink and talking about how the new iPhone is going to have a vintage photo setting option because 45 mm films was always superior but like people in more progressive places like Holland are recycling our film canisters to make bicycle pedals for impoverished Sudanese youth.

Kristen: Nailed it. Btw Jackknife Thoom. (This is an unrelated reference but I included it for accuracy.) / No I mean you really nailed it so hard. / He definitely just saw Mumford & Sons. Somewhere in his life is a girl with brown hair who enjoys crafting and is “not looking for a serious relationship.” She has a bicycle with a basket on the front and her favorite band is Wilco.

Mel: Yes, and she loves those canvas peasant shoes called Thoms because all proceeds go to Africa. Just somewhere in Africa… Cause it’s got poor people without iPads.

Kristen: She likes wine, cats, yoga, cardigan sweaters, yarn, IKEA, sushi, American Apparel, scarves, Buffalo Exchange, brunch, Dexter, Tom’s shoes, anime, salad, and Volvo. / Damn dude Thoms shoes jinx.

Mel: …”yeah so pretty much I just made this beret for you Bunghole Jones. I know you don’t wear hats like that but I was whatev’ and yeah…” (she stands pigeon toed and looks like ensemble from Les Miserables) / Her name is Sadie but not really… it’s like Alexa but she likes to be called either Sadie or Al.

Kristen: She has center parted long brown hair with the kind of headband that goes around the head instead of over it. She pulls a slouchy cardigan down over her fingers. / Oh it’s so perfect.

Mel: Over her fingers is so nailed… I hate her.

Kristen: She says, “That’s so Raven” sometimes and people think it’s hilarious. She has a cat named after a character on Glee. She has two roommates and one of them is a dude. She has a really messy bedroom which you’re supposed to find “quirky.” She makes cupcakes.

Mel: She fucking always makes cupcakes… They probably are various “insects” like Ladybugs, Ants (3 cupcakes connected by brown frosting) or her super famous scarynotscary Spidercakes that she named Jeeves or something fucking horseshitfuckingfuckfuckng gay like that… And she “giggles”… “that makes my tummy giggle.” Her fucking fag hipster friends think that is really “amusing.”

Kristen: “That makes my tummy giggle.” Oh fuck that.

Mel: Oh fuck that so hard.

Kristen: She has watching parties for tv shows like True Blood or some shit. She has a fag friend and they call each other honey and darling and kiss each other and stuff. She calls her girl friends her “girlfriends” and will say “hey beautiful” or “Hey hot mama” to them. She is always planning her backpacking trip to Europe. “Drew said Germany was the shiz.” At parties she ironically dances to Snoop Dogg with a red plastic cup of booze in one hand… Probably Grey Goose and cranberry.

Mel: I am going to kill her. / She is so real.

Kristen: She is. She’s everywhere. / Her name is Leslie but everyone calls her Les. / Or yeah Alexa “Al.” / Or Natalie “Nat.”

Mel: Nat

Kristen: “Heeeey it’s Nat-Nat!” / She has at some point referred to herself as Natastrophe. Her old MySpace quote was “a charming mess…” / She loves Tim Burton.

Mel: Nat Nat. Oh god… Aqua Thoom. (This is unrelated.)

Kristen: She loves Jane Austen books.

Mel: She likes woolen tights.

Kristen: Oh yeah with ballet flats or ankle booties. Wedges. / Shove Thoom. / Gets me. / Urban Outfitters

Mel: I just read one of your Thooms that got me… Snackpack

Kristen: It’s strong. / It’s ridiculous.

(We go on about Thooms for a while and then we get back to Nat Nat.)

Mel: Nat Nat.

Kristen: Oh God. I hate her.

Mel: Yes. The cupcake thing. Dude. Dude…

Kristen: “That makes my tummy giggle…” / She is 24 and for her 25^th birthday she wants to have a pub crawl… On bicycles.

Mel: Pub crawl. Yeah and she goes to Zombie crawls on 6^th Street in Austin in December. / She is empowered by not shaving her arm pits… Much. / She loathes cigarettes but smokes weed and does Salvia.

Kristen: Yeah she has one tattoo. On her wrist. / She went through a Sailor Moon phase. She still has collectibles but now she keeps them in the bathroom. / She has a photo somewhere on her Facebook of her wearing a beanie and eating a lollipop. / She won’t get pedicures cause she feels bad for the Asians. / She wants to insist that people take off their shoes when they come in the house but she’s afraid people might not want to. / On her way to Austin with friends they have a ritual. The first horses they see they yell “HORSEYS!” And then giggle. /

Mel: Omg… laughing in rage. The wrist tat is blacklight.

Kristen: Yeah it is. It so is.

Mel: She carries around a blacklight laser keychain just to show people.

Kristen: That hurts.

(An interlude.)

Mel: Recorded message from Nat Nat… “Hey it’s Nat Nat boo! Heh heh so yeah what’s the what what? I’m just relaxed listening some old Bowie tunes and make my girlfriend’s man’s puppy a sweater awwww right?! Yeah I’m pretty awesome heh heh but shout out to your Nat!”

Kristen: omg. Oh fuck you. Fuck you so hard.

Mel: Ha! / “hey it’s Nat Nat. Um. So. Imma’ make it rain cause I just finished your man’s puppy’s sweater! Oh Em Jee! It’s bomb! Heh. Your man is gonna love me more! Heh I’m just joshin like a josher can player. Anywiz, I’m done-zo and it’s fun-zo up in this biatch so shout at a Nat!”

Kristen: I am gonna stop talking to you forever now. I am filled with rage at your inner Nat.

Mel: It’s so nailed.

Kristen: Hey kids it’s Natty! Leave me a mizz-jizz and I’ll hitcha back!

Mel: Logan’s hipster voice mail outgoing message: “Hello?... Wha?... I can’t hear you fools? Jay Kay… It’s Natteroma’s Vee Emm! Leave a message after the beep Beep! Heh Jay Kay! … (real beep)”

Kristen: Tell Logan I said to go to hell.

Mel: I did and he laughed hard. He says “why did the hipster burn her mouth?”

Kristen: Why?

Mel: “cause she ate mac n chee before it was cool.”

Kristen: Omg.

Mel: It’s deep.

Kristen: It really is. / No it is.