I can’t keep a houseplant alive to save my life but I can make my sweet potatoes grow into unwanted plants with literally no effort at all. I can only imagine this means I have some sort of super power which allows me to drain the life of fern and transfer it’s leaves onto a yam.
This is a terrible superpower.
Unless yam plants are a good thing. Are they? Could I just put a yam-growth in a vase and use that as my new houseplant? If they’re so hardy why don’t we grow them instead of the more easily murderable plants? I’m pretty sure the only difference between a yam-growth and a lily is that one has a better name. I just need to find a better name and then I can sell my accidental yam-growths and live off the proceeds. Something like “YaMandrake” or “Potato-Pansy”. Maybe if I keep letting it grow it’ll get really enormous and then I can create a portable yam hedge that you can bring with you to use when you’re stalking someone in the desert. BYOB. (Bring Your Own Bush.)
I just tried to look up “Can I keep a sprouted potato” but after I typed in “Can I keep a” google auto-suggested “Can I keep a wild rabbit, a gun in a car, a wild turtle or a fox as a pet“.
WTF, google. I just want to keep a potato.
Then when I added the “s” for “sprouted” google was like “OH, I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!” and suggested “Can I keep a shotgun in my car” or “Can I keep a squirrel as a pet“. Jesus, Google. I know I live in Texas but way to stereotype me.
When I got to “Can I keep a spr” google auto-changed the whole question to “Can you have a spray tan when pregnant?” I don’t know, Google. I guess?Why are you asking me? YOU ARE GOOGLE.
Remember when Google was there to answer questions instead of just raise more? Me either.
Eventually I typed in the whole question but all the links told me how to keep my potatoes from sprouting, rather than how to grow my sprouted potatoes into a giant bush. I considered googling “How to grow a giant bush from a potato” but I was afraid of what the auto-suggestion would be after I typed in the first part of that search, and so I decided to just give up and wait to see what happens with my potato. It’s like a science experiment, but in laziness.
Also, I glued some googly eyes on the potato so it looks more life-like, and will be less likely to be thrown away by Victor if the potato can stare at him accusingly. I was going to call him Mr. Potato Head but that seemed too obvious so instead his name is Samuel Ignacious.
Introducing Sam I. Yam. He’s naturally smiley and high in vitamin C.
I’ll keep you posted on my big bush.
PS. Victor just found Sam and he claims that what I’m doing is a very common children’s science experiment and he was like “Seriously? You never grew a potato plant when you were a kid?” He says I’m supposed to cut the potato and add water and put toothpicks in it, but that sounds suspiciously like a recipe and I think he’s just trying to trick me into accidentally cooking. He insists that every child made potatoes sprout into plants and I was like, “Not us. We were poor. Some of us had to eat our potatoes, Victor. We couldn’t all go around wasting toothpicks and putting googly eyes on our pet potatoes, Daddy Warbucks.” Then Victor countered that googly eyes aren’t supposed to be part of the science project but I’m pretty sure that just proves that he’s doing science wrong.
…and I was like, “Holy hell. Yes. This happens to me every damn week when I try to sign up on a new website” and so I went to pin the picture on my board and then I got this message:
So basically I tried to pin a picture explaining how baffling it is when your computer is like, “What is wrong with you? You’ve already done this, asshole” and then my computer was like, “What is wrong with you? You’ve already done this, asshole.”
Awesome. Things are worse than I thought. Unless, of course, I thought it was worse than this at some point in the past but I’ve just forgotten just how bad I once thought that it was. I really can’t be trusted at this point.
Ps. No worries if you miss today’s post because I assume next year this’ll happen again and I’ll write almost the exact same post all over again.
PPS. Is it just me? Am I just getting old? Or is it just that we have so many things in our heads nowadays that they have to be purged often so we have more room for algebra formulas and videos of cats falling off tables?
And in other news, it’s time for the weekly wrap-up: What you missed in my shop (Named “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):
As requested, THE BLOGGESS IS MY COPILOT mugs. This might seem a bit sacrilegious because Jesus is supposed to be your copilot, but Jesus is always having to “take the wheel” and give people piggie-back rides on the beach and be your copilot but technically Jesus never drove, so maybe stop making him your chauffeur. Also, why do the same people who say “Jesus, take the wheel!” always have those bumper stickers that say “In case of Rapture, this car will be unmanned”? It seems a bit selfish. “Jesus, take the wheel! (Unless I’m already in heaven and in that case just let this car run into an animal shelter, because fuck those cats.)” I might be misinterpreting that though. I haven’t got the part in the Bible where Jesus got his learner’s permit.
Fat Cat in Art. It’s poorly translated into English, which sort of makes it even better.
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Yesterday I got an email from Scientific American magazine asking if I would be interested in submitting some ideas for science experiments for children. And I was all, OF COURSE I WOULD. After all, this is the same prestigious magazine that Einstein once contributed to.
My actual response:
Have you considered experiments regarding the proper combination of liquids? Specifically, teaching children how to mix mojitos properly.
Technically, it’s basic chemistry (with a touch of biology if you grow the mint yourself) which ends in awesomeness. Plus, the parents would have to test the final product, so you have automatic parental involvement. Personally, I would be very interested in becoming involved in that experiment. Or anything involving Zombie Apocalypse preparations. Maybe something with battle-axes.
Also, have you heard about these nuclear wolves? Because they sound scary as shit. Personally, I think we need to be concerned. We may have over-planned for zombies, and under-planned for nuclear wolves.
PS. My spellcheck says “mojito” isn’t even a real word. I think this points out exactly why this sort of education is critical in America.
To be honest, I wasn’t actually expecting a response, but I got one:
If you really want to create an experiment on the proper combination of liquids (mojitos or otherwise), can you provide some more details like the objective of the experiment, the controls and variables that you think should be present, etc.? If our edit team features it as part of the next round of BSH experiments, we’ll credit you and link to your Twitter/blog. Suggestions from your blog readers and social followers are also welcomed.
And I completely agree about making serious moves to prepare for the Zombie Apocalypse. I don’t want to scare you, but zombie fungus ants might be the real thing we need to be worried about… At least for now.
Thanks again for the response. We look forward to discussing this and other end of the world conspiracies with you further.
Which? Kind of a bad-ass response from a magazine that’s been around since the the 1850’s. Unfortunately, all I know about science is that if you flush a lit M-80 down the toilet it will fuck. up. your plumbing. Really, I can’t stress that enough. Also, you should not use roman candles to “burn away” the evidence. It totally does not work at all and just makes things worse. Plus, did you know that shower curtains are highly flammable? Because I didn’t.
PS. I have no clue how to write a proper scientific proposal and most of you are way smarter than me, so if any of you have any suggestions please feel free to leave them in the comments and I’ll have the Scientific American team come and check them out. And then we all get knighted as Professional Scientists and then we can wear white lab coats with impunity and pretend to be very important doctors who can’t be bothered to pay their bar tabs because I HAVE A MEDICAL EMERGENCY TO ATTEND TO AND THIS COAT HAS NO POCKETS FOR MY WALLET. I’m pretty sure that’s how science works.
This is part 2 of my ghost-hunting trip to The Stanley Hotel so you should really read part one first. Or just go watch tv instead. That’s probably what I would do. (As usual, this is copied directly out of my journal so there’s no real flow and the tenses change constantly but technically that matches the theme since I once read that horror directors sometimes tilt the camera slightly so that the viewer feels uncomfortable and off-balance and I basically do the same thing except with bad grammar and dangling participles. I’m like an artist here.)
Our adorable tour guide (Kevin) in front of the Stanley. What's really strange is that I never saw all the ghosts in this picture until after I developed it and then digitally added them myself.
The tunnels under the hotel are carved out of the mountain. This is the same place where the guys from Ghost Hunters heard a woman say "hello" except that I'm pretty sure that was a cat because I had a cat that used to say "mama" all the time and it sounded a lot like that. But she never said it in front of anyone else so no one ever believed me. She was like my own personal snuffalupagus.
This is also where I got my first ghostly shot which probably wasn’t actually a ghost at all but it felt close. (You can see all my anomaly shots here).
I wanted to write “REDRUM” on my bathroom mirror with lipstick but more than that I wanted to not spend my vacation time scrubbing lipstick off a mirror later, so instead I settled for recreating the creepy twin shot from The Shining, which was made easier because the hotel plays The Shining on a loop on channel 42.
That pillow is stuffed in there because the armoire door kept closing itself when we were watching tv, but in less of an eerie, haunted way and in more of a “is this hotel sinking?” sort of way.
This would have been a cooler picture if they sold those twin costumes in the gift shop. Instead they sell raccoon puppets. I’m not sure the logic here but they are missing out on a growth industry.
Found a giant Stanley Hotel dollhouse prop from The Shining miniseries in the basement. Crawled inside. It’s like hiding underneath the table but way better because no one accidentally kicks you. Also you have a tiny door that you can close when you don’t want visitors. I may never leave.
Also, if you get a dead squirrel stuck in your walls you just have to lift up the house and shake the dead squirrel out so it's already better than my real house. Needs a liquor cabinet though.
Karl and Callea. And ghost-hunting equipment. No jumping beans though.
They let me borrow an EMF detector but it never went off. Victor said it was probably because I shook it to death. Victor needs to just drop it. And to buy me some fresh jumping beans.
Callea just explained that we’re locked into the dark concert hall until 1 am and is giving us pointers on how not to blind each other when we take photos. Callea: “When you hear the word ‘flash!’ close your eyes until the flash is over. That’s how you protect yourself”. One of my friends taught me the exact same thing in New York but I think it meant something different there.
Callea just showed us this parabolic ear thingie that you can use to listen for extremely quiet ghosts. I totally want one for watching TV at night. Or for listening into people’s thoughts. Depends on how strong it is, I guess.
We’re starting the ghost hunt in the women’s bathroom so we can check out “the haunted stall”. I am totally not shitting you. Callea notes that it’s probably pretty strange to be in the ladies room with a bunch of men. Clearly this woman does not know me well. She didn’t really explain what type of haunting occurred in the stall but my guess is ghost-gonorrhea on the toilet seat. Or maybe it flushes when you aren’t done peeing yet. Which actually happens to me all the damn time. Basically every automatic-flush toilet I’ve ever been on is haunted. Which might explain all the kidney infections.
Went into “Lucy’s room” to wait for the ghost to speak to us or to shut a heavy door (as she’s known to do on rare occasions). We all sat on the floor in total darkness and had to remain quiet and the silence was so heavy that all I could think about was how funny it would be if you farted loudly because no one would know who did it and then if no one admitted to it you could be all “It was the ghost” in a completely serious way, but I totally didn’t because I respect the work of the ghost hunters and also because I didn’t have to fart.
Callea just told us about an encounter a team of people had once had with “Lucy” when she took a liking to a male investigator who was physically touched by Lucy in an “*ahem* very friendly manner” and that it “um…made him happy, so to speak” and everyone else just sort of nodded and she kept going with her story but about 5 minutes later I was all “Hang on, I just need to clarify this…are we talking about a haunted erection?” and then Victor was all “That’s my wife, folks. Next show’s at 11” but then the temperature suddenly dropped several degrees and then the door totally shut on its own. Which actually kind of freaked me out. Then some blonde psychic chick said that Lucy was with us and she reached out her arms because she said she could feel some “hot balls” in the air. Then I just never stopped giggling again.
Went to the room of Paul (the dead handyman) and it was creepy because all the chairs were stacked up exactly like in Poltergeist but then Victor pointed out that most of the time people stack chairs like that for storage reasons and not just to let you know that you built your house over an Indian graveyard. I’m not sure which one this was though because we turned on a spirit box and it clearly said “Paul”. It also clearly said “tomatoes”. I don’t know what that means.
Paul's room. The light is from a car passing outside.
A bunch of mildly weird, vaguely creepy stuff happened at the ghost hunt but if you don’t believe in ghosts you don’t want to hear it so I’m skipping this part. Thanks, skeptics. You’re ruining it for everyone.
I asked Victor to call the resident psychic to ask if she’d come do a seance in our room but she said she was booked and that we should have called earlier. Victor says if she was a real psychic she would have already known we’d be contacting her for an appointment and that this is really all her fault. It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic.
2 am. Exhausted and going to bed. Leaving the jumping beans on the nightstand so they can wake me up if shit starts happening.
Morning. Nothing happened. These jumping beans are totally dead. Probably murdered by Lord Dunraven. I told Victor that they should let us have the room for free since we just added an actual murder to the history of the hotel. Victor reminded me that I probably killed them myself. I reminded Victor that I was probably possessed at the time. I also told him not to look in my bag because I may have stolen all the coasters and stationary when I was possessed last night.
Decided to check out the haunted closet again. Noticed scratch marks all over the low ceiling like someone (or something) was trying to claw their way out. Or possibly it’s from people scraping the ceiling with the iron. I’m going with the first one though because ironing stories are almost never exciting.
Also, I found a pair of cargo shorts stuffed behind the ironing board. True story. I considered that maybe they were a gift from Lord Dunraven but they were a size 3X so more likely it was just another insult. That man is a douche.
Just took a shower and this shampoo is not lathering. At all. I’m assuming it must be haunted. Or it’s lotion. Hang on. Yeah. It’s lotion. So less “haunted” and more just me not reading labels closely enough.
Just stepped out of the shower and noticed that the steamed-up bathroom mirror reflects into the bathroom door mirror and that someone had written “REDRUM” on the door mirror so that when it got steamy the word “MURDER” would show up in the first mirror. Awesome. I think it’s probably a sign from the premature ghost of Stephen King. Victor says it’s probably a sign that the maids don’t clean the mirrors often enough.
This is a terrible picture because I had to take this with my phone since if I walked out to get my camera all the steam would dissipate. That’s how science works.
Checking out of the hotel. I really, really wanted to steal my room key but I didn’t because Victor wouldn’t let me but then as we were leaving the desk clerk asked if we wanted to keep our keys as souvenirs. BEST. HOTEL. EVER.
Stopped for lunch on the way to the airport. Victor ordered fish tacos. These tacos look like vagina.
Honestly, it's like Georgia O'Keefe made these.
Still driving to the airport. Victor was all “Looks like someone’s about to get an ass full of lead pipe” and I was all “What the fuck?” and then he pointed to a house on the side of the road.
And then we were home. All things considered? Best 24 hour vacation ever.
You know what’s awesome? When you’re having a crappy day and the doorbell rings and there’s a guy with a package that you need to sign for and you smile excitedly at him and you’re all “Awesome! I love getting packages!” and he looks at you weird but you brush it off because Yay! Package! and then you sign for it and you start to reach out for the package and then you realize that the guy looks familiar and that’s because it’s the guy from the pet crematorium and he’s handing you a box full of your dead dog. That’s awesome. And by “awesome” I mean that I’m never answering the door again.
Comment of the day: I know exactly what you mean, because I got a package today too. Except mine was full of candy, not beloved cremated pet. If i was a unicorn, I would use my magical powers to turn Barnaby Jones’ remains into candy. I don’t know if you’d want to eat it though… ~ Jamie the Very Worst Missionary
Alternate comment of the day that is technically more of a “noise” than a “comment” but one that I want to remember for next time I have to send someone a sympathy card:[sad trombone] ~ Nanette
Sad trombone, indeed.
Worst. Linkage. Ever.
Updated comment of the day: I couldn’t agree more about the inappropriate linkage. If cremating your dog isn’t going to work, then nothing will. ~ kyknoord
Bonus comment of the day because this post is very short and I need to pad it: This is what I like to do (besides black tar heroin) — Halloween time I buy one of those fake UPS or FedEx costumes and when either guy brings me a package I open the door in a rush and go “thanks I’ll take it from here!” and slam the door. Will also get you a free pizza if you stock up on pizza company costumes. ~ Chris Illuminati