Alcohol. It's a helluva drug.

I'll admit, I like to have a beer or 12 here and there. Drunk is a neat place to be: no inhibitions, no filter, no sense. Total lack of control. Why be sober when you can be canned?

But this guy takes it to a whole new level. I like to think that I'm pretty composed while innebriated (I'm sure others will disagree, but whatevs), but this cat falls down a lot. A LOT. And thanks to Britain's big brother camera system, we get to see it on the Internet.

Click the link for the full video.

Don't be a drag, just be a queen!

June is national gay pride month! While TN residents have to mumble over the word "gay" due to some really stupid legislation, everyone else can be here and queer as loud as they like!

Start your day off right with the gayest coffee mug you can find. I suggest this one. And Irish it up a bit in celebration.

Cheers! To every gay, lesbian, transgendered, bisexual, twink, queen, queer, butch, fairy, bear, bull, lisptick lez, and nancy boy. This Str8 is against H8. 100%!

Breakin' up is hard to do

I've had some crappy break-ups over the years: via email, via phone, via ignoring. There was a man I dated for a little over a year, and I was weeks away from asking him to move in. Shortly after our one year anniversary, he told me he was looking for the woman he was going to marry, and he was sure it wasn't me. Wow, that burned. Bad. Frankly, I'm still a little upset about it, despite the fact that he was right. We were just not compatible.

But this kid was pretty straight forward about it. He didn't apologize for being a jackass, but appealed to logic. Birthday sex is the best anyway. Well played, but badly spelled. Ah, playground love.

Not too stealthy there, buddy.

Let's get one thing straight: ninjas are awesome. Just ask cowboys and zombies. Ninjas totally rule.

But this ninja got it totally wrong. Crashing into an Apple store at some ungodly hour of the morning is really not the most clandestine action. Especially if you're not even gonna swipe a few iPads to cover your bail.

 

Use your house as a time capsule

I grew up in a very old home. It was a "unique fixer-upper opportunity" per my parents real estate agent. It was really 17 years of breathing asbestos, years not being able to use a whole floor, and ultimately, a really interesting experience. Clearly, this childhood shaped my opinion of houses, because I bought an old house, and proceeded to start home improvements.

While my house wasn't the train wreck my parents bough years and years ago, it's still been an interesting ride. My single family home may have been a duplex. I took out a solid wall that had a door under all the plaster. There are window sills that don't sit straight. Sadly, that is the neatest thing I've found so far.

But the house I grew up in was a treasure trove of history! We found hand-blown glass bottles from a brewery that had closed in the 20s, an essay from a student in the 50s, a few squirrel skulls (eew!), and the prize: a 2 carat sapphire ring embedded in the plaster behind a medicine cabinet. Which was really interesting, because at the time the house was built, women would not have been doing construction.

So why not leave a little piece of your history for your next homeowner? All the little bits we found in my old house were accidental, but you can leave a piece of yourself on purpose. I'm not talking about burying a capsule in the yard (because no one wants to dig up their yard just to learn about your boring ass), but leave a little snippet of your life somewhere it will be a surprise: in the light switches!

One of the first things I hated and wanted to replace in my house were the switch plates. Bury your deepest, darkest secrets behind something absurdly personal to a homeowner.

They're reading your thoughts

And probably transmitting them to the Japanese government.

I'm not a super emotional woman, so I'm pretty sure these little suckers would just lay flat most of the time on my head. But they're supposedly reading your brainwaves, and reacting accordingly. Ears up for concentration, ears down for calm, twitching ears for interest.

Not sure about you, but if I saw someone wandering down the street in moving cat ears, I'd cross to the other side of the street. Cue "sad cat face"....now!

My Little Pony bucks physics

I used to LOVE My Little Pony. You could do their hair, make up complex scenarios for their interactions, try to get your Barbies to ride them (scale problems, didn't work), etc. Care Bears were rad, but My Little Pony was the best.

Apparently, and I can't believe I missed this, there were My Little Pony movies. (I discovered recently that there's a modern cartoon about them that makes them all look like crazy, wide-eyed anime characters. Weird.) Which were also flawed in the physics department.

So a physics student chose to examine the flaws for a final project. Witness the brilliance below. I'm less in love knowing that there isn't any logic behind My Little Pony. (Yeah, I know that's dumb. Shut up.)

Darwin would be amazed, even by this.

There are a 1,000 ways to die. Just ask Spike TV. (That show's like a train wreck: don't want to look but can't stop staring!)

There are stories of people being smothered during sex, setting themselves on fire while lighting farts, and shredding their stomach lining after swallowing stolen diamonds. Some people take survival of the fittest to a new, intellectual level. (Yes, I'm calling these people stupid.)

This unfortunate soul, was merely the victim of an accident on the job, but it's totally "1,000 Ways to Die" worthy. Poor Vincent Smith Jr. was working at the Hershey plant in New Jersey, when he was struck in the head by a mixing paddle and fell to his death in the 8ft deep, 120 degree vat of molten chocolate. Thus giving "death by chocolate" a more morbid connotation.

Drinking and driving is suddenly okay!

Leave it to some hop-fueled engineers to figure out how to get to the bar and back without a DUI! This amazing contraption lets the imbibers imbibe, and the driver simply steer. The best rickshaw ever created. I think I want one for my birthday. Scratch that, I DEFINITELY want a pink one for my birthday.

The seats are adjustable, the keg is cooled, full automotive chassis, there's a stereo with an iPod hook up, it's almost better than my Charger!

Strangely, this is a product of St. Paul, MN. Not the city one would typically associate with a great time. Although, I guess there's probably nothing better to do. Grab 13 friends and have a great time rolling through your city!

Having a bad day?

Watch this. It will make you feel better. Promise. The cuteness is overwhelming.

How lazy can you possibly be?

Admittedly, I like canned foods. My favorite snack is Spaghetti-Os and Meatballs, straight from the can with a spoon. Yeah, I know it's lazy and childish, and I'm not sure where it came from, but it's really one of my favorites. Especially while drunk.

But if I had kids, I would make their lunches. No matter how early (ugh!) I had to get up to do so. My kids will eat something homemade, and possibly wholesome, every day. No Lunchables and Lean Cuisines for my pups, no sir!

So I can't understand what parent in their right mind would ever throw this in a brown bag and send junior on their way to school. Forget the derisive note in the lunchbox, just tell your kids that you hate them with their food. Gross. At least there's Laffy Taffy...?

Public restroom...?

Maybe a little too public for most. Squatting under a trash bag into a little bag full of Tums is really not for me. If I have to go that bad, I'll just pee my pants.

I really don't understand. At all.

Speaking as a heavily tattooed woman, I'm a fan of body art. I think that if your body's a temple, you should decorate it. Make your arms expressions of what you think is beautiful. Cover your legs in fun. Your back is an empty canvas, fill it with stunning images of what's important in your life.

Tattooing has been around for centuries. Initially used to designate warriors and priests, tattooing was a high art. Only in the last few hundred years has tattooing been designated for sailors and whores only. Fortunately, we're experiencing a tattoo renaissance. That average guy in the next cubicle over probably has something emblazoned on his shoulder blade, or his frat letters on his ankle. Your boss probably has a tramp stamp, or an arm band in honor of her kids.

But tattooing pigs. WTF? I read the artist's statement (he's a vegetarian) and still don't understand. Yeah, designer animals are hysterical, but shouldn't PETA be stepping in? While I disagree with dying your chihuahua pink, or dressing your yorkie as a biker, this is really beyond the realm of "weird stuff people do to their pets."

Funny in life, hysterical in death.

Many years ago, my grandmother was dying. And she knew it. (Sorry, this isn't the funny part.) She had breast cancer and fought the best she could for years, until, after a double mastectomy, she was told it was just over.

She embraced the experience: did a lot of things she wanted to do, continued to live as though there was nothing wrong, increased her faith, and cigarette consumption. She selected her burial plot, planned her funeral supper, and selected her casket.

I wasn't there but I was told, she insisted on *getting into the casket* to make sure it was comfortable enough to carry her into the afterlife. I'm sure the funeral director was horrified. But this was a woman who took her dog to "free kid's pictures" day at the Sears Portrait studio, and made a scene until they agreed to photograph him. Par for the course I guess. (Yes, that was the funny bit.)

But she had it right. If you choose how to live, you should be able to choose how to die. Personally, I want to be cremated and unceremoniously chucked into Lake Michigan. Done and done. But after seeing this, my plans may change...

Am I wearing pants?

It's a tough question we're all faced with daily. Vexing though it may be, Amy Sly has taken her above average intelligence and created this simple flow chart to assist you.

Click the link for a larger view.

Dear TN, It's time to break up. Love, Memphis

The state of Tennessee recently passed a bill that is possibly the dumbest bill in the history of stupid legislation. What century do we live in?!? TN has ruled that teachers K - 8 cannot acknowledge the fact that some people are gay.

While young minds are still forming, and subject to their parents' influence, the kids with gay parents are really getting the short end of the stick here. They will be bullied, and made to feel that their relationship with their parents is unnatural. No materials discussing "alternative" sexual orientation are to be allowed until high school. (And who's to say that isn't in danger too...)

So, outspoken gay advocate, George Takei (Mr. Sulu), has made this video. I'm looking forward to my first "Takei Pride Parade" here in Memphis. There are rumors that he will actually be here for the event.

Grab your rainbow flags and beads, and come out to support gay Memphians! And gay folks all over the world. You can't help who you love, but you can stand up to bigots and the ignorant.

It's "okay to be Takei."

Must. Have. Immediately.

A few years ago, I had a vicious fight with Home Depot over a totally amazing chandelier. It's a VERY long story that involves a lot of yelling and threatening on my part, and a lot of side-stepping on Home Depot's part. The short: I got my damn chandelier.

I wish, when I was browbeating CSRs at Home Depot, I had known about these. I would have abandoned my quest for the weird thing hanging in my dining room for the even weirder creations of Adam Wallacavage.

Touch screen phones can be touchy

I got my iPhone back in December. I LOVE it! But there are certain situations in which it's not so awesome. Most notably while wearing gloves, and when your hands are wet or covered in BBQ sauce.

So, while trying to answer an important phone call in the cold, I discovered that I could answer my phone with my nose. There are special gloves that can interact with smart phones, but my nose is free. I worked it all winter.

Apparently, designer Dominic Wilcox, shares my pain, and has developed a highly embarrassing apparatus for smart phone/nose interaction.

Well, I'm still here. Predictably.

So Saturday was supposed to be the Rapture. Thousands upon thousands of devout Christians were supposed to be sucked up to heaven, leaving us heathens to weather the earthquakes, and smiting, and whatnot until November when the world is supposed to actually end. Fortunately, all my guests were at my birthday party on Saturday night. (Says a lot about me and my pals, eh?)

Looks like it didn't happen for anyone. Either Christians aren't getting it right (which is a whole other discussion), or the Rapture was a crock of crap. I'm voting for option 2.

Apparently, fanatics have been goofing this up for thousands of years. The first goof came from the ancient Abyssinians (who were ultimately destroyed by the Babylonians), and the last 2 have come from Harold Camping. Third time's a charm?

Read about other failed apocalyptic predictions here. Pretty entertaining, actually. The devout have been screwing this up for years!

Make peeing FUN!

And artistic!

As though peeing wasn't awesome enough, let's make it entertaining too.