Thought of the Day: WTF does Basic mean?

I’ve noticed a trend and this trend confuses me. People everywhere have started using the slang term “basic” and its more aggressive counterpart “basic bitch.” Rihanna declared the set of her new music video a “no basic zone,” men’s websites have instructions on how not to date a basic and Buzzfeed has a post on how to dress like a basic bitch for Halloween.

I have questions. Questions like wtf does basic and/or basic bitch mean? I found this informational video very helpful:

Ah. It’s becoming clear now. Basic Bitch is, essentially, a new form of White Girl Problems, yes? Let’s investigate further.

Apparently basic used to mean, more or less, an unsophisticated person. Krea-someone came out with a song a few years ago with a line rattling off designer names followed with “basic bitches wear that shit so I don’t even bother.” This is probably where the association of certain clothing types (and therefore lifestyles) with basic-ness began. Pair this with Buzzfeed’s evidence of how basic bitches dress and I think we can all conclude this is a new way to diss vapid white girls. In which case I whole heartedly endorse its use.

 

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All the Feels of Winter in Minnesota

1. You spend most of Fall not being fooled by the pretty colors

winter is coming

2. But then the first snowfall comes and you’re like:

buddy

3. Because it’s so friggin’ beautiful!

snowing

4. And you can’t wait to be all straight thuggin’ on the slopes

skiing ostrich

5. AND OMG SLEDDING

dog (4832) Animated Gif on Giphy

6. But then, inexplicably, everyone forgets how to drive

funny (14695) Animated Gif on Giphy

7. And you just want to be like FUCKING GOOOOOOO

driving in snow

8. You realize you have 4-5 months of this shit to look forward to

adam levine

9. It gets unbearably cold out so you become a hermit

hermit

10. Until someone preposterously suggests you go out

what

11. So you let everyone know how much you don’t want to be there

12. Next time someone suggests going out, you consider all your options

25 Signs Alcohol Is Your Significant Other

13. This is when the heavy drinking starts

drinking

14. And continues

25 Signs Alcohol Is Your Significant Other

15. Until you see the light at the end of the cold, dark tunnel that is winter and realize you’ve made it to Spring!

25 Signs Alcohol Is Your Significant Other

16. Which you then remember is gross and disgusting because all of the melting snow has made EVERYTHING soggy. WINTER RUINS EVERYTHING.

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I was Sharknado for Halloween and it was awesome!

SharknadoAwesome Halloween costumes of my past have been discussed at length previously in this blog. But this year I actually won a costume contest, so I’m pretty damn proud of my costume. Yes my friends, I was Sharknado. If you don’t know what that is, kill yourself.

Origins

It was nearing the end of September and I had no idea what to be for Halloween. Normally I would have everything planned out by then, but this year I had to wait until numerous best costume ideas blogs came out. I liked the idea of Daria (again, if you don’t know what that is kill yourself). I also saw a post that suggested printing out the Sharknado poster and going as the movie, which intrigued me but was in need of vast improvement. I consulted the Halloween Oracle, my sister. She wisely steered me towards staying relevant with Sharknado. Done.

Construction

I definitely wanted to be somehow being eaten by a shark because that seemed way more fun that just the tornado. I didn’t want nor had any idea how to hand make a bunch of sharks, so I first looked at what options were available for purchase for the shark part of the costume. All the hats seemed lame and not over the top enough. There were a few onesies but they were weird anime sharks, so fuck that. Happily I stumbled onto the Shark Attack costume that I’m wearing in the picture.

Next was the tornado part. I originally wanted to be totally wrapped in it, using chicken wire for the frame and the fake spiderweb stuff you can buy for decorations as the tornado. Unfortunately, Home Depot scares the shit out of me. I went into one, walked around aimlessly for awhile, tried to ask someone for help but was too intimidated by the smell of wood and manly men, and ran out within 5 minutes. Fuck it, Michael’s and dowel rods it is. I also scored a leftover cardboard box to cut into the ‘nado shape. I taped the dowel rods on the edges for extra support, wrapped the whole thing in the spiderwebs and then quite ingeniously hot glued an old belt onto the bottom so I could just belt it onto my back. Finishing touches were printing out a bunch of pictures of sharks and sticking them on. I also had to get people to wrap me in more spiderweb stuff so it looked like the shark and I were in the tornado, so some assistance is required. All said and done, it cost me about $40. Snoochie Boochies!

SharknadoBeing Sharknado

Not everyone got it right away, but after yelling “what am I?” and spinning around in a circle while making swooshy, tornado noises people usually clued in. And then of course were amazed. I would not recommend wearing it to a bar. We had a party and with about 20 people it was a bitch to move in. You just have to not care about whacking people in the face with the tornado, which I didn’t, but that takes a toll on it. I had to make some repairs for the second party. At which, of course, the booze was at the bottom of a ridiculously narrow stair case which I couldn’t really fit down so I had to ask people to go get me drinks all night. But whatever, I was Sharknado bitches!

By far my best costume ever, and I hear they’re making a sequel…

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The Vajizzing

The following is a true story. Names have been changed because, while hilarious, it’s just too embarrassing.

THE NIGHT OFvajizzing.001

Last Saturday I went to the Twin Cities Oktoberfest. This is not the Gasthof’s Oktoberfest, which is awesome. This is the Oktoberfest that costs $25 and is at the fair grounds and kinda sucks. We went for a friend’s birthday, let’s call her Sharon, and luckily found a coupon deal that gave us two for one tickets, otherwise I’d be uber pissed.

Sensing it could be lame, I offered to drive so I could bail whenever I wanted. While parking, we noticed a few people dressed up in super hero costumes. This was confusing until we saw there was a comic con going on at the next pavilion over. I got really excited because going to a comic con is on my bucket list but also a little sad because I was not dressed up as a super hero. We agreed we’d check out comic con before leaving but after some alcohol had been consumed.

Not a lot happened at Oktoberfest. It was a hall with tables, a few guys in lederhosen, exactly 3 booths with various German things, two food stands serving mediocre German food, and 1 Summit beer truck (not German). I dominated in hammerschlagen and won a pair of sweet hobo gloves. The only thing of note is that there was one girl in our group, let’s call her Jane, who got the band to sing happy birthday to Sharon. Then we left. That was it.

As if a prelude to the shitty night that was to come, comic con was over when we left. We should have just gone there first, but whatever. Also a telling move, Jane went in to the pavilion anyway to talk to the guys who were obviously cleaning up and no longer in costume because she’s hot and can get whatever she wants (so her actions have told us).

We left the fair grounds and stopped at a liquor store, because it was still only 4:00ish, where Sharon and Jane did several free sample shots. Then we went to my apartment to chill and drink more before the bars. This is where things started to go wrong.

Sharon totally skipped being drunk and went straight to puking, which was really weird, but it was her birthday so we’ll giver her a free pass. She pretty much just laid around the rest of the night. The rest of us played Wii. Jane started being the annoying drunk. She talked way too much about the dumbest things imaginable. Like how she left her dog home alone and was so sad about it. For an hour. She walked into the bathroom where my room mate, let’s call her Rhonda, was getting ready and demanded she do her make up. She started kicking my other room mate, let’s call him Joe, in the balls to win Wii tennis. This chick was all up in my “I don’t deal with stupid people” radar. So I decided I wasn’t going out because not only would I not have a good time, I would inevitably get so sick of her bullshit I would say something mean, but obviously clever, to her and start problems. To no one’s surprise, Joe totally latched on to her and decided he was going out with them.

I would like to mention my good friend Sonja, her real name, was the one sane person in the room and totally with me in all of this. When they left to go to the bars, she said to me “if I text you to help me you really have to come help me.”

I went to bed at a relatively early time. Joe coming home woke me up so I went out to get some water and see if he brought Jane home. He did. I went back to bed. Some time later I was woken up by someone trying to get into my locked room. Like a drunk person slapping at the door when they can’t open it. It was kinda creepy.

THE MORNING AFTER

When I woke up, Joe and Rhonda were talking in the kitchen. I came out and learned the horrors of what had happened the night before. Brace yourself for:

THE VAJIZZING

Rhonda had come home late, around 4:00 in the morning. She being the incredibly decent roomie that she is took off her heels to make less noise walking on the tile floor. She went into her room and stepped in a puddle. This being not normal, she was confused and smelled it. It was pee. She stepped in a puddle of pee. She also noticed a white-ish, sticky substance on her desk chair. Her clothes she had left on her bed were also moved.

Apparently, after Jane came home with Joe and had coitus (attested to by the roomies in the next bedroom who heard it), Jane really had to pee. Alas, she could not find the bathroom so she tried (ran into?) my door. Having no luck, she went into Rhonda’s room, assumed it was a toilet and sat on her chair therefore smearing the vajizz on it, probably fell off and proceeded to pee on Rhonda’s floor. Then passed out on Rhonda’s bed. When Joe offered to drive Jane home she said, “No. This never happened” and ran outside to call a cab. Probs because she has a house and dog with her boyfriend, which sadly Joe did not know.

I can’t make this shit up. A chick vajizzed on a chair, peed on the floor, and disappeared into the night. Joe bought us alcohol and cookies (which I tried to make while stoned and totally burned, don’t bake and bake kids) to make amends and Rhonda spent Sunday disinfecting her chair every hour. But the good news is we now have an apartment black list, fun!

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My Stream of Consciousness During The Last Game of Thrones Episode

Game of ThronesAlright, time to settle in for some nice exposition that will set up what I’m expecting to be an epic 4th season because this one has been kind of a dud so far.

Blah blah blah, battle strategy, always listen to your mother, got it.

That’s a lot of unfortunate looking girls. What a shitty role to be cast in. “Yes, I’m here to play one of the ugly daughters. Go ahead and just make me look really gross and sad in front of a large audience.” Bummer.

Carefy Daenerys, I don’t trust this pretty boy soldier…

No! Don’t trust him, I say!

See! Dumbass lead them into a plethora of soldiers. The pretty ones are always stupid!

Now he’s dead! That’s good, he was kinda creepy. You’re gonna cry aren’t you? Suck it up and go set something on fire with your dragons! Oh. Wait. He lived. Womp womp.

Not digging the Sam plot. Wrap it up.

Arya and The Hound are like the odd couple. Totes adorable.

Wait, did Bran just mind-fuck Hodor? He totally did!

Uh oh. I’m sensing tension between Jon and Ginger. Yep, there she goes. Totally fucked it up now, Red. Kiss Jon’s incredibly sexy ass goodbye.

Oh snap, he can do wolves too!

Oooooh that sneaky bastard has a pretty daughter he was hiding! Get it, weird older uncle!

She’s preggers! Awwww they’re naming it Ned. That’s nice. Yay happy endings!

Wait…why are they closing the door?

Wait…WHY IS HE WEARING CHAINMAIL????

OH SHIT! Stab wound to the baby maker!!!! What a dick to kill Robb’s preggo wife! I know he’s really pissed about the not-wedding but come on.

HOLY FUCK HE’S KILLING EVERYONE?

Nah, Catelyn’s a bad ass she’ll stop it. They can’t kill everyone.

FUCK THEY KILLED EVERYONE!!!??!?!?! EVEN THE WOLF??

Awww not silent credits. I hate silent credits. It’s too damn emotional.

Shit. I need a drink.

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Stuff That Makes Me Weird

my-pet-peevesThere’s been a healthy debate among friends about whether it’s better to live with someone before you get married or wait to move in together until after you get hitched. I’m pro living with someone first because what if there’s something about their living habits that just creeps the shit out of you and you can’t deal? Try explaining that you got a divorce because no one should have that amount of skid marks in their undies and be healthy.

So this got me thinking that I should totally just write a manual detailing all of my weirdness so I can make my significant other read it before marrying me, just in case they firmly believe in not living together first. Logic.

Feet creep me the fuck out

I can look at them and be perfectly fine. I can touch them and not be bothered. But if a foot touches me I can NOT handle it. I don’t know. Something about the way toes curl around your skin. And I can’t even talk about it anymore because I just convulsed.

I pick my nose. What.

I pick my nose frequently and aggressively because I can’t stand the crusty feeling of boogers in my nostrils. I don’t do gross things with them like eat them. I put them in a tissue and throw them away. I’m not embarrassed. A clean nose is a priority in my life.

I have to sleep with some degree of noise in the room

Trying to sleep in total silence is almost impossible for me. If I’m with someone, I’m paranoid that I’m breathing too heavily or annoyed by their heavy breathing. If I’m alone, any squeak or crack in the apartment obviously means someone is coming to murder me. A fan or humidifier is ideal. No whale song or rainforest noises. That shit’s weird.

I talk to myself in a Scottish accent

I don’t have any explanation for this one. It just kind of started happening.

I obsessively delete my browser history

I really hate using Gmail for work because I have a fear that somehow they will be able to see my Google searches, which are often weird. Like “I feel like there’s a piece of food stuck in my throat but I’m not choking.” That one was a real conundrum. To compensate for this, I delete my browser history almost every half an hour and get anxiety if I don’t.

I have a snoring bias

I snore. Sometimes quite loudly, I’ve been told. But guess what? My snoring doesn’t wake me up and yours does. So you best knock it off or go sleep on the couch.

I am terrified of snakes

I don’t think this one is that weird, but I’ll add it for good measure. The way snakes move is uber creepy. And similar to the foot thing, I can’t talk about this one without shuddering.

Chew with your mouth closed or I will close it for you

Maybe my biggest pet peeve ever is smacking when you eat. I don’t get it. Can people not hear themselves? Because everyone else in the room sure can. And I can’t sit on this one. I WILL say something and the politeness depends on the noise level of your smacking.

Just let me load the dishwasher…

There is a science to packing a dishwasher. You put plastics on the top so they don’t warp from the heat of drying. You put silverware handle down in the basket so they get fully cleaned. No, you shouldn’t put pots in because it fucks with their finish. No, no, NO don’t put that bowl there when it clearly fits better here. Nope, you’re done, get out of my way and I’ll fix it.

I don’t do laundry very often

This means there’s always a pile of clothes on my floor that I dig through to find the item I want that I’ve probably already worn three times. This will never change.

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How I Handled Losing My Credit Card and Driver’s License

664966326418738b3b46be6be5f02783In short: not well. Here’s a timeline of events:

Saturday 9:00pm: Take a cab home from St. Patrick’s Day festivities.

9:30pm: Argue with friend over who will pay for the cab. Lose. Apparently drop change purse containing credit card, cash and driver’s license in fit of rage.

Sunday 11:00-7:00: Post drinking stupor.

7:00pm: Receive phone call from bank asking to verify suspicious purchases. Feel terrifying creep of panic up spine.

7:20: Wait on hold to cancel card.

7:40: Pace around room still on hold, while some fucktard is buying god knows what with my hard(ish) earned money!

7:45: Customer service answers, phone hangs up. Repeat 3 times. Borrow room mate’s phone.

8:30: Finally get through to customer service. Stop credit card. Ask about getting god damn money back. Find out I can’t do anything yet because my bank is closed. Throw pillows.

10:30: Take NyQuil to sleep. Don’t sleep at all.

Monday 8:30am: Call bank, AGAIN, to find out how to get my money back. Find out I have to write a letter detailing the fraudulent purchases, with a bunch of legal speak the operator told me to add, and any other info I think would help. Ponder what, exactly, that means.

11:30am: Finish 2.5 page letter that no one would be able to make sense of because I added a bunch of fluff to skate over the fact I was drunk.

1:30pm: Find out from friend who paid the cab what the name of the company was. It’s based in Brooklyn Park, where most of the purchases were made. Assume the cabbie took the card. Add that to the letter.

1:35pm: Google map the routes to all the stores purchases were made from the cab company. This confirms suspicion cabbie stole my card.

3:30pm: Leave work early to, hopefully, get a jump on the post-work DMV line and get a new license. Recall Dane Cook’s bit on going “early” to the DMV. Hope there aren’t people in sleeping bags.

5:00pm: Leave DMV in a relatively good mood, despite long wait, due to awesome guy who helped me. He works at the DMV and can still crack jokes, bless him.

5:15pm: Arrive at bank, ask to fax letter to correct department. Get stared at.

5:16pm: Find out call center guy had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, all I have to do is fill out a form. Get a little sad that no one will read my credit card fraud literary work of art.

5:30pm: See that they tried to buy stuff at two more places and were denied. HA! Hope they had to put everything back and were really embarrassed. Wonder if there were security cameras that caught them in action. Envision police breaking down their front door and dragging them out in handcuffs so I can slap them in the face.

5:35pm: After filling out form ask if I can see what they bought at each place. When asked why, try to figure out how to say their purchases would indicate if it was the cab driver without sounding racist. Decide on “just curious.”

5:36pm: Ask for the fifth time if there’s a good chance I’ll get the money back. Am reassured for the fifth time that since the bank called me, there was a good chance.

5:40pm: Go home to play the waiting game.

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