Um...What??

Updated To Add Useless P.S.: This Post Is About My New Cat So You Might Want To Just Skip It (Unless You're Totally Into Cats) (Or Crack Houses)

Today's post is dedicated to my online friend Jose Kilbride who –– besides being riotously funny and entertaining and charming on Twitter –– is also a gifted photographer who takes the kinds of pictures you don't look at so much as you're transported into. And if THAT wasn't enough, I recently discovered he also has a blog with writing so good you can actually get lost in it. Which then got me wondering what else he can do that I don't know about. Paint? Sculpt? Write limericks? Do long division? Okay, that last one's absurd. I'm pretty sure no one can do long division. Carry the one?? Nobody even knows what that means. THEN I got to thinking about how rude it is for him to hog up all the talent for himself and not leave any of it for me so that all of you people are now left stuck here reading this idiotic crap which, even though I wrote it, is so very obviously not my fault. THANKS A LOT. JOSE.

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Welcome back, everyone! As many of you already know, my last post turned out to be quite controversial, which means it was filled with things like controversy and, of course, cows. Because where cows go, controversy follows. Trust me. Cows –– I've been told –– are polarizing, which, if I'm understanding correctly, means that they reduce glare, although to be perfectly honest I hardly see why that's anything to get all worked up about. Oh, what do I know? ANYWAY. The good news is that today's post isn't about cows, it's about, well, good news! Because in an unexpected turn of events we've actually had some around here. And this good news comes in the form of Team Um What's newest family member, Gus The Cat!:

Team Um...What??: We're growing!

Yeah, sure. They just had a baby over there at that Dooce place and that is so super exciting WHOOPEE DOO blah blah WHO CARES?! We've got GUS! And believe me when I say the whole family could not be more excited about the new arrival. Especially Chris!

 Ungrateful.

I certainly didn't plan on getting another cat so quickly after Moses, especially with a heart still so raw from losing him. But if you've been around here for any amount of time at all, you know how things normally go for me: Whenever I go to a lot of trouble to make some very specific plan...TA DA! The total exact opposite thing happens.

So, of course, that night I went onto the Kitten Rescue website was no different, and despite having specifically planned to just find a cat to sponsor because I didn't yet feel ready to adopt again, one minute I was looking at the sponsor cats and then a few minutes after that I was on the adoption page (I have no idea SEE PREVIOUS PARAGRAPH) and then –– two hours later –– I was still on the adoption page. Staring at Gus.

There was just something him that kept returning me to his page. I can't explain it, just like I couldn't explain the same feeling I had with Moses. Maybe it was his pictures, maybe it was his story, maybe it was the line about Gus being a cat "looking to rewrite the tragedy of his life." Dear. God. But something compelled me to e-mail his foster mom who, in a really inspired twist of fate, turned out to be the very exact person who saved my sweet, old Moses from the shelter on the day he was scheduled to be put down. NICE ONE, UNIVERSE! I'd always wondered who she was and now I could thank her and it just kind of seemed like a sign and sometimes when the universe gives you a sign you read it and so, WELCOME HOME, GUS THE CAT!

Besides: Could YOU resist him??

    

Do you people even understand what it's like to be me??

Okay, seriously: This post is killing me. I wrote and rewrote the above paragraphs about finding Gus because first they were too long and then they were too boring and oh look! They're still boring. Because I'm fairly sure this is the kind of useless minutia of my life that nobody cares about and what if this post is like the written equivalent of my forcing a bunch of my vacations photos down your throats?? YOU KNOW, LIKE THIS:

      

 

Nice camera skills. CHRIS.

     

Maureen isn't in this picture because she was all, "Wah wah, I HATE SCIENCE FICTION" and "Yoda Yoda Yadda yadda aliens are stupid" and so she wouldn't even come INSIDE with us because she was just way too good, apparently, which is totally rude if you ask me because on the way over was I way too good to sit on the hump in the back of the landspeeder? NO I WASN'T.

ANYWAY. My point is that my vacation photos are awesome!! Actually, I don't really know what my point is, but that's the kind of blogger I am: One without a point. SO? Also, why are we even talking about this? I'm trying to tell you all about my new cat and you people aren't even paying any attention. PLEASE FOCUS.

Continuing on:

Gus has come a long way on his 13-year journey to get to where he is now. Yeah, yeah, I know. He's 13. What do you want from me?? I love the feline old fogies! Are you a cat? Who's retired? And looking for a nice home to live out your twilight years?? Come on over! We've got shuffleboard. And Ben Gay. And those power chairs from the Scooter Store. HAHA! We don't have any power chairs from the Scooter Store. Do I really look like someone who can afford that kind of fancy equipment?? Of course not. WE HAVE JET PACKS.

But long before his retirement years when Gus was still just an unweaned kitten, he was thrown out into a dumpster like he was trash. The medical term for this condition is dear god in heaven people suck. But then this really nice woman found him and bottle-fed him and after a while she discovered that she was so very good at taking care of him that she should take care of people too and so she opened a special kind of group home for the needy that in some circles is referred to as a crack house.

So she did this –– I'm guessing –– by first gathering up a lot of crack and then gathering up a whole lot of people who needed to buy the crack but didn't want to commute to buy the crack because we all know how difficult it is in today's economy to afford both gas and crack and besides, driving around all over town is just a completely inefficient use of time that could be spent in one's house already getting a head start on smoking the crack. Again, I'm guessing. And although our little Gus found himself living in a house like this, it should be noted that Gus is neither a crack dealer nor a crack addict. But when the police raided the place and arrested people and shut it down and boarded it up and blah blah CRIME DOESN'T PAY they did find close to 20 swords in there (TOTALLY TRUE STORY) which I can only assume means Gus is a ninja. Bonus!

And now? Well Gus is settling into his new home as if he's always lived here. And this place, which had become a bit emptied out and gutted as of late, is filled up to overflowing with Gus's unique brand of emotive, expressive, effusive, sloppy love. Now? I spend a lot of time stuck under the cat. Because Gus is always sitting on me or lying on me or jumping on me or rolling around on me. At night he's always sleeping curled up in my armpit or wrapped around my head. He licks and grooms me so much I'm pretty sure my showers have become completely redundant. He gives endless speeches and monologues and soliloquies which I listen to raptly and attentively, because Gus is a cat with a lot of important things to say. And he stares and stares at me. Constantly. Gus spends so much time craning his neck to gaze at me like I'm the singular greatest thing he's ever seen that's he's been known on occasion to accidentally tip himself over. (Which is totally the kind of beautiful expression of love a lot of people could take a lesson from. JARED.) Now? These days? We spend a lot less time moping around here and a lot more of it totally covered in cat spit being happy. Because time might heal all our wounds eventually, but love heals them a whole lot faster.

 

Welcome home, Gus The Cat! You could not be more different than Moses, but you also couldn't be more loved. Here's hoping you're always really happy here!!

    

 

Just another day at Um What Headquarters. Honestly, I have no idea why we ever bother to go on vacation.

THE HAPPY END BEGINNING!

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P.S. I owe special thanks to Maureen for her technical input regarding crack. I wasn't sure if one primarily smoked crack or shot up crack and so I asked her a lot of questions about crack except, of course, for the totally obvious one which would be oh dear god, why does she know so much about crack???

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Updated 6/29 to add:

P.S.S. I realized in all my fascination with Photoshopping sh*t, that I only included a few actual pics of Gus. So, here are a couple more. Because why even HAVE the intertubes if not to upload 50 gagillion pictures of your cat??:

 

This second shot is my attempt to be artistic. You know, like Jose. I call this "Open Space With Cat Face." My mom calls it, "What Happened, Did You Drop The Camera."

Dear Everyone At Send A Cow: SORRY (Also: Ryan Should Totally Fire Me, Except For That He's Not Paying Me)

6/9: I've decided to close the comments on this post. Who knew a post on giving to charity would end up being so controversial? I blame me for "writing" something that was totally devoid of any actual service-oriented information due to my desire to save room for other things like pyramids made out of cows. But since the people at Send A Cow know about this post, I want them to be happy it's up and not look for rocks to throw at my head. HAHA! The people at Send A Cow would NEVER throw rocks at people's heads. Obviously. They'd throw cow pies. They have read this post though, and are no doubt monitoring it closely all day every day. Never mind their actual charity work. So, you know, if you're waiting for a cow right now and it's totally late? I apologize.

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So the other morning I got this Twitter DM from Ryan where he was all, "Hey! Send a cow!" To which I was all, "WTF do you need a cow for? And do you even know how much the shipping charges are going to run me for something like that? We don't even live in the same country." Then I had to spend all this time trying to find a damn cow, which I thought would be totally easy except for did you know that Petsmart doesn't even carry cows?? Way to go, Petnotsmart. THEN I had to spend even more time figuring out how to wrap up the cow ("Large" box? I don't think so FedEx), only to get an e-mail from Ryan later on that said the cow wasn't for him it was for charity and you don't really send the cow, you send the money for the cow and HAHA! I TOTALLY KNEW THAT, WHAT AM I AN IDIOT??! And then I was stuck with this cow that was probably going to end up living in my bathtub or something until I suddenly remembered that Maureen has a very nice yard and she also loves milk and so I generously gave her the cow because I am the best friend ever:

        

          
 
     

    

Thanks a lot, RYAN.

Also, I thought it would be a good idea to give Maureen a cow because she's always saying things to me like, "OH MY GOD, I AM A COW" which leads me to believe she has no idea what a cow really is so I figured it might help her to have a visual reference nearby. This is probably the same reason I'll eventually get her a pig.

ANYWAY. On to my main point here, which is all about...hang on, it'll come to me...something about...OH! Right! Charity. Specifically, the UK-based charity, Send a Cow. (The UK? Do I have some large Ukrainian readership I'm not aware of?) Ryan asked me to write up a little piece on them to hopefully increase awareness of their cause (Uh, do I have some large anything readership I'm not aware of??) and bring in some much-needed donation money. Because, apparently, nothing brings in much-needed donation money like the use of excessive, nonsensical Photoshopping which I will deftly demonstrate here:

   

Maybe these two pics just brought in tons of pounds for Send A Cow??!!
Because, by the way, they use "pounds" not dollars in the UK (WHEREVER), and I'm figuring tons of pounds is a lot of money but I don't really know for sure on account of I am not a human currency converter. And, to be honest, I'm not even that familiar with my own American dollar due to the fact I DON'T HAVE ANY OF MY OWN AMERICAN DOLLARS. Usually.

For those of you who don't know anything about Send A Cow you're in luck because neither do I, I'm the world's foremost leading expert on the subject! This is due to a little something called I Have An Advanced Degree, which in some circles is also known as Feeling Lucky On Google.

In a nutshell, Send a Cow's mission is to enable disadvantaged families in rural Africa to have access to food and a secure livelihood by developing sustainable farming systems that integrate both crops and livestock. A donation to Send A Cow results in some of the poorest families in nine African countries receiving training in sustainable farming as well as life-saving resources like livestock, seeds and trees. Wow! This sounds like an excellent idea, right? And I'm sure it is, but to be honest I don't even cook, so the idea of also having to GROW my own food seems practically overwhelming so maybe we should just send microwaves and a bunch of Lean Cuisines? Oh, I don't know.

Anyway. Integral to Send a Cow's success is their "pass-on" system, wherein each recipient of a cow pledges to pass on their first female calf to another needy family, and then that family does the same thing and so on and so forth and etc. and COWS ARE FUN!!! Not only does this system help to expand the number of families that benefit from your donations to Send A Cow's programs, it's also pretty much exactly like that commercial that's all, "Then you tell two friends and then they each tell two friends and so on and so on" only it's with cows. Which means, if I'm understanding correctly, that if you send a cow to someone, and then HE sends a cow to someone and so on and so forth, one day TA DA!: 497 cows show up at your door!!

 
WHO WOULDN'T WANT IN ON THE GROUND FLOOR OF THIS ACTION??
(To be honest, I'm not completely certain this is how it works, but common sense would dictate that I'm right.)

SO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? Send a cow, people!!! It's good for impoverished families in Africa, it's good for the earth, it's good for your soul and it's good for the animals. And you know how I feel about the animals. So please –– do it for the cows! Because cows need good homes and love, too. Okay, people are hungry and need food. That's totally important, I know. But mostly? COWS NEED GOOD HOMES AND LOVE. I cannot stress this enough. Donate now! Send a cow to a good home, filled with love.
      

Send A Cow: EVERYBODY'S DOING IT.
   

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P.S. Seriously. This is a great organization. Send A Cow imagines a world where hunger is completely eradicated and they're forward thinking in their ideas of how to get there. Besides cows (all bought locally in Africa), they also provide goats and chickens and bees and farming equipment and fruit trees. But more importantly –– through their training programs and community support groups –– they provide people with the ability to become self-sufficient, which in turn provides people with the kind of gifts that money can't buy: dignity and pride and self-worth. That's a big difference you can make with a small amount of money.

Click to donate!
Donations are just in pounds though. Which I don't know anything at all about. So, beyond this post you're totally on your own. Just so we're all clear on that. Because I cannot do everything for you. SHEESH.

P.S.S. Yesterday Chris was all, "Uh, your blog? What's up?" and then I told him I was about to post something kind of about cows and I also told him it was going to be totally awesome because sometimes I lie to Chris SO WHAT and then he was all, "OMG I HOPE THERE ARE OTHER ANIMALS IN IT TOO I AM SOOOOOO RIVETED!!" and he didn't even TRY to hide his sarcasm (RUDE), so I think it's totally obvious who's getting the next cow:

THE HAPPY END.

This Post Is Totally All About The Scientific Method...And Boobs

Note: This is not the previously mentioned cow post, which is still in the works and set to be released shortly. And –– as you can imagine –– it's going to be awesome! And by awesome, I mean this:

 

I know. It's mind-boggling.

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Welcome back, everyone! Today is WHAT-THE-F*CK-IS-THIS-CRAP WEDNESDAY here at Um...What?? This will be the first of many weekly installments (where the first of many equals the only one I ever do) in which I will post something totally pointless and useless that makes you all stop and go, "WHAT THE F*CK IS THIS CRAP??" and then oh, hey! It's just like every single other posting day in the entire history of this blog. Yay!

Today's installment of WHAT-THE-F*CK-IS-THIS-CRAP WEDNESDAY will illustrate how Team Um...What?? remains at the forefront of modern scientific investigation and discovery. Whatever you need to know? You can be sure we will find it out. Because we have advanced degrees and black belts in a little something known as the scientific method which is a method wherein science is used methodically and blah blah blah ALBERT EINSTEIN, etc.

Let us begin:

Last night, in the midst of a typical online exchange between Chris and me where we talk about important, topical issues of the day such as the upcoming remake of Red Dawn or people who are annoying, he sent me the following:

"What's NOT retarded is me sitting on my couch with 3D glasses watching people get sliced and diced by a crazy miner."

Backtracking for a moment, perhaps you all might remember this post from a while ago where I postulated from various facts at my disposal that all scientists wear 3D glasses, so if Team Um...What?? started wearing 3D glasses, we would all be scientists too! (Believe me. This line of reasoning is a lot more scientific than it appears at first glance.)

 

Giving NASA scientists a run for their money.

Then, in response, Um What's resident scientist Laurie confirmed my postulation as 100% accurate in this excellent follow-up post.

 

This is Laurie! Laurie wears 3D glasses. Laurie is a scientist. Therefore, everyone who wears 3D glasses IS A SCIENTIST.

I know. It's highly advanced logic. Don't question it.

So, returning to last night, Chris wearing his 3D glasses while watching –– as it turns out –– the 3D whore horror flick My Bloody Valentine  (which contains, I am told, 30 gagillion gratuitous shots of some blond chick's boobs) equals CHRIS IS A SCIENTIST which, furthermore, equals Team Um...What?? continues to be at the forefront of modern scientific investigation and discovery.

Because –– as if I even need to remind any of you:

And 17 other scientific disciplines.

Note: Model's identity hidden to prevent her from having to be seen associating with Chris in public.

And in conclusion –– which in the scientific community is knows as a conclusion –– this:

 

The End.

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You: What the f*ck is this crap???

Exactly.

Loved

My problem with having a blog that pretty much takes nothing seriously is that when something serious DOES happen, it turns my blog into a useless piece of crap dying a slow death on the interwebs. Unlike before when it was just a useless piece of crap dying a slow death on the interwebs.

Welcome, loyal readers, to exactly what happened during the past few weeks here around the Um...What?? headquarters. And by loyal readers I mean those of you who logged on day after day for three weeks straight to keep reading the same post about Jared. And by those of you who logged on day after day for three weeks straight to keep reading the same post about Jared, I mean Jared.

As many of you already know, Team Um...What?? recently suffered a heartbreaking blow when Moses The Cat suddenly got sick and passed away. In one right hook that dropped us to the floor, fate all at once stole away our accountant, our Chief Executive Officer, our CSS expert, our web designer, our legal counsel, our personal stylist, our nutritionist, our receptionist, our executive assistant, our head chef, our spiritual adviser, our cleaning crew, our office manager, our public relations director, our data analyst, our customer service representative, our personal trainer and –– worst of all –– our heart and soul. Because fate is a bitch like that. And so is feline diabetes.

Big Pussy.

I mean, geeeeez: How was I supposed to write about such an awful thing? In such an anything-but-serious blog whose target audience seems to have accidentally become really immature 12-year-olds? Who like stupid pictures with Photoshopped hats? And who –– preferably –– can barely read? OOPSIE! But on the flip side, how was I supposed to write –– where write equals OMG I'M GOING TO PHOTOSHOP SH*T –– about anything-but-serious things when I was feeling...so seriously crappy?

As a result of my dilemma, this blog sat around collecting dust while I sat around trying to collect myself. I knew I had to write something here about what happened to Moses, if for no other reason than because he's been a big part of so many posts on Um...What??, and because he's also been so front and center on Twitter where many of you seemed to genuinely enjoy his semi-regular tweets. But I also wanted to write a little something because, dammit, he lived. And his life was brave and spectacular and full of dignity and the passing of such a life deserves to be noted.

So after much puzzling and fretting and pondering and wondering about how to write something that was appropriate but at the same time didn't stick out like a sore thumb on a blog whose idea of literary genius includes things like Photoshopping a picture of Maureen and me snorkeling around inside a giant martini, it suddenly dawned on me: Oh for the love of God, woman. Post like you always post or you'll never, ever post again because you are completely constipated with this post. Gahhhh. Besides: It's not like I could possibly have more than two readers left by now. And besides part two: Moses had an excellent sense of humor and he totally loved Photoshop. I'm not even kidding. Who do you think taught me how to use it? Chris?? Hardly.

Sadly, now I'll probably never learn how to use Final Cut Pro.

So, with all of this in mind and in the interest of pulling Um...What?? off of life support, I'm just going to forge ahead and offer up the following brief look back at my time together with Moses, who was rescued near death but was so filled with life. And by brief look back I mean OMG I'm going to Photoshop sh*t:

In the beginning (Part 1): Moses and I first got together back in December 2007 when he found himself in need of a permanent place to unpack his bags and I found myself in need of a reason to exist beyond being a miserable mope.

I'm not even kidding about that pee tester thing.

In the beginning (Part 2): Moses and I fell totally in love and quickly become our own ragtag version of a teeny tiny family.

Love is blind. And rhymes. AND –– as if I even need to point this out –– is very, very good looking.

In the middle: Moses got healthy. Diabetes –– regulated. Bad teeth –– extracted. Ringworm –– beaten. TAPEWORM killed. (This last one is so many kinds of gross you do not even want to know JUST TRUST ME.) And as Moses got healthy, I got happy. And as I got happy, I also got to be an expert in feline diabetes and insulin injecting and glucose curving and urine level testing and –– this part is my most favorite of all –– in worrying way more about what Moses needed and worrying way less about what I needed. This is a little something I like to call getting my head out of my a$$.

 

Be glad I didn't put a picture of ringworm, either.

In the end: The irony of it all is that Moses got healthy just in time to grow old enough for his system to give out from the diabetes. Damn. He went out like he lived –– fighting hard –– and he made it through so many more days longer at the end than we expected him to. But ultimately it was just too much for him to battle. His pancreas gave out. His kidneys gave out. His heart arrested twice. He had a stroke. And even after all of that, he still didn't go on his own. Even after all of that, I still had to make the call to help him go.

Damn.

I knew when I adopted him that between his health issues and his age (which turned out to probably be even older than initially thought) we were living on borrowed time. But 16 months? Only 16 months? Fate is a bitch like that. And so is feline diabetes.

And so is love. Which snuck up on me the way that it tends to do and left me as attached to him as if he'd been with me 20 years.

       
With eyes like the sky, a belly like a football and a snore like your grandpa.
Loved.
    

And in conclusion, this:

Always with the dying and the death. It's a cat not a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

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P.S. In other news, my next post will be about a cow. Seriously. And trust me: You will not be disappointed. Unless you're usually disappointed when you come here, in which case you'll be totally disappointed. As usual.

P.S.S. Finally, I'd like to send a big shoutout to this blog's favorite Ryan, who actually cared enough to count the exact number of days since my last post and then go so far as to say he was starting to get depressed over the lack of activity here. Of course he did DM this to me on Twitter, which might mean he doesn't really want anyone else to know he feels this way, in which case I am totally kidding about it being Ryan who said this. HAHA! Of course it wasn't Ryan. Obviously. It was actually Prince Charles. Who, even though I haven't mentioned it in a while, still faithfully reads this blog. For reasons I am confident I don't even need to explain to you people.

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I Might Have Made Up Some Of This (EXCEPT FOR THAT I TOTALLY DIDN'T)

Welcome back, everyone! Times are exciting here around the Um...What?? headquarters these days, because look who's finally here!:

Yes. That Jared.

Because as it turns out? My friend Jared does read this blog! You know, now. After I finally was all, "JUST READ IT!" and then he was all, "The hell?? YUCK I DO NOT EVEN LIKE YOU!" and then I was all, "But I wrote about you in it!" and then he was all click click CLICKCLICKCLICK, "I TOTALLY LOVE THIS BLOG MORE THAN ANY OTHER BLOG IN THE WORLD!!"

So, now not only is Jared a regular reader (HAHA! No one can read regularly around this blog and you are welcome all you people with hundreds of posts stacking up in your readers –– I'm lookin' at you, Mr. Farty and Scientist Laurie), but he also might officially join Team Um...What??!

HAHA –– how ridiculous! Of course there's no free beer here. I have no idea where he got this impression.
 
By the way: This illustration? That looks so much like Jared that it's just like Jared is looking into a mirror right now? Chris drew it. I KNOW!! I couldn't find anything existing that looked at all like Jared* so I asked Chris to draw something in the style of his own illustration so he did whatever it is he does in Illustrator with his graphic tablet and paths and points and fills and strokes and blah blah nobody really knows for sure and then TA DA! Twenty-five minutes later the world's most perfect image of Jared was born! Which, you know, BIG DEAL. I'm totally sure I could have drawn it myself except for the fact that I am very, very busy. Occasionally.
 

* Note to all iStock illustrators: There are men in the world with beard-like facial hair who also aren't leprechauns for your information.

By the way: Did any of you notice anything different about Chris's illustration?
  

Luxurious.

      
Anyway. Today's post will celebrate the fine art of conversation as we spend some time getting to know Jared, who has agreed to sit down and answer some questions for all of us because I told him there would be free beer here he totally loves this blog more than any other blog in the world! And if it's any indication of how it's probably going to go, when I told him I'd make up crap myself if he didn't want to do this, Jared assured me his answers would be crap anyway, so I could add his crap to my crap and then I could have one totally crappy blog post. Which would have been a really generous offer except for the fact that I can write a totally crappy blog post just fine all by myself, thank you very much. (See: every single other blog post I've ever written.)

Let's get started!

Hey! Thanks for sitting down to talk with me.
Where's the beer?

SO. What uniquely qualifies you to join Team Um…What?? What specific skills do you bring to the table?
Gee, that’s a good question. I’m not much of a “Team” player, and my skill set is very general. I do own a computer on which I can keep up to date with the latest Um…What?? news. Does that count?

Sure! Good answer. We're off to an excellent start here. Now: Why do you read this blog? Is it because you’re afraid of what I’ll do to you if you don’t?
Because I heard that I was mentioned in it.

So what you're saying is that your love of yourself is greater than your fear of me?
What I'm saying is where is the beer?

This blog’s tagline is, “Fueled By Random, Pointless Tangents.” What would your personal tagline be?
“Fueled By Anger, Loud Music and Miller Lite.”

Describe yourself in three additional words.
Hungry. Bitter. Hilarious.

I'm always hungry too! Plus, sometimes I'm bitter and I am so totally hilarious ALL THE TIME!! Just ask anyone! Do you think this mean we're soul mates?
We are NOT soul mates. Good god. And you're not really that funny either. Sorry.
   

           

I see. So now describe me in three words, one of which will not be "funny." Apparently. JERK.
Did you just call me a jerk?

NO. What the hell? Stop trying to stall. Describe me in three words, please.
Cat Lady. Modest. Bloggy.

Okay. You do know that's four words right? Did you fail math in school?
No, because I am fully aware that three beers plus one beer equals FOUR BEERS. And yet I don't have even one beer. What the hell is that about?

Speaking of things a person needs, can you loan me $50?
Sure, if you don’t mind getting it in installments.

Don't you think –– you know,  since we're friends and all –– that the appropriate answer to that question would be that you'd just GIVE me money? Meaning I wouldn't have to pay you back?
Friends give friends beer.
     
      
         
        
               
I'm sure they do. Anyway, MC is a total jerk for the way he never comments on this blog, right? 
We’re supposed to comment on the blog?

No. You're not supposed to. But wouldn't you LIKE to? I mean isn't this blog entertaining and inspiring like that?
Seriously?

Never mind. Okay. What is something about you most people wouldn’t know?
There’s a reason people don’t know. There’s some dark sh*t going on here.

Oh, please. There's nothing dark going on with you. This from a guy whose license plate is ILVHUGS. You're totally ducking the question, which would annoy me except for the fact that there's no way anyone is still paying any attention here so, you know, whatever.

Moving on. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Only one thing?

Well, I'd have to agree with that answer. I shouldn’t change anything about me though, right?
Umm…uh…hmmm…uh…no.

Way too much hesitation, dude.
Way not enough beer.

What is it about me that you find the most inspirational?
Your ability to find time to update your blog…occasionally.

First of all, everyone's a damn critic. Second of all, like anyone wants me to post more often.
Good point.

If I die before you, will you come to my funeral? What will you wear? If you die first, what will you leave me in your will?
If you go before me, I will wear my nicest Metallica T-shirt to your funeral. If I die, I will leave you my nicest Metallica T-shirt.

Of course this would be the shirt after I tailored it. Jared doesn't wear girl shirts. Sometimes.
Also, notice how I combined two images together but then was too lazy to match the skin tones. This is what's known as I Am An Inspirational Photoshopper.

Besides your favorite Metallica t-shirt, what are five things you love?
Baseball, heavy metal, TV, sushi, answering questions for friends’ blogs

Why am I not on that list?
Next question.

Speaking of me, on a scale of 1 to 10, how pretty am I?  (With 1 being “Completely Pretty” and 10 being “totally pretty.”)
I would have to say about a 5, which I think is “thoroughly pretty.”

Really, dude? Not even a full five but about a five?? Middle-of-the road FIVE? Did you really think this would be an acceptable answer? Just so you know, I'm gonna call Chris right now and show you how it should be done. Listen and learn:

Chris: What's up?

Me: On a scale of 1 to 10 –– with 1 being "Completely Pretty" and 10 being "Totally Pretty" –– how pretty would you say I am?

Chris (with not even one millisecond of hesitation): 5 million! Prettiest girl ever!!

Me: Thank you. (CLICK)

* * * * * * * * * *

SEE?! Would it really have killed you to say something like that?
You do know you were on the phone, right? And that I couldn't hear anything on the other end? I bet that wasn't even Chris on the line.

Well IT WAS and he thinks I am FIVE MILLION PRETTY.

Nobody is five million pretty.

I am.

No you're not. Although you might look better IF I HAD THAT BEER YOU MENTIONED. And are we done here yet?

No.

Oh! And speaking of Chris:
    

Flowing.

    
     
    
        
MC should stop sending me e-mails about how awesome this blog is and should start leaving me official comments instead, don’t you think?
Great. Not only are we supposed to make official comments, but now we can’t just send e-mails? Ugh.

LOOK. I am not asking you to take Cyanide pills. IT WILL NOT KILL YOU, OMG GEEEEEZ. Okay. Continuing. What do you like best about yourself?
That I was asked to join Team Um…What??

You do know you're still on probation though, right? The jury's still out on you. Not just anyone gets to be on the team.
I find that hard to believe since Chris is here.

I know. But that was an accident. I can assure you. So. Why don’t you like Fort Minor? Everyone knows Mike Shinoda is way, way, WAY more talented than Metallica.
I have to plead ignorance on this question. It just doesn’t make any sense. 

Huh. Ignorance. I'm sensing a theme here.
Wait. What?

Nothing. So. You used to be a sportswriter. What do you think of my post on slopestyle snowboarding? Maybe I could be a sportswriter, too??
It was good, but with two critiques: too much use of the word “adorable,” and it should have been about skiing. Or baseball.

What? I'll give you the baseball thing, but honestly dude. You must have been a terrible sportswriter, because you obviously have no idea what you're talking about on that first thing.

I rest my case.

What is your greatest accomplishment in life so far? What is your biggest goal you’ve yet to accomplish?
Getting asked to join Team Um…What??; taking the time to start my own blog.

Do you know Photoshop?
No.

Then you can't blog. Give it up.
What?

Just trust me. Anyway. If the world suddenly ran out of beer, what would you do?
Start doing hard drugs.

Hard drugs? Dude. This is a FAMILY blog.
It is?

Of course not.
  

Hi Chris!

In conclusion...
Oh thank god.

...is there anything else you’d like to add that hasn’t already been covered here?
First of all, after re-thinking through the questions and my answers to them, I seem to be a very simple person defined by two things: Beer and Metallica. Wow, I guess I AM pretty cool. Thanks Um…What?? Second of all, BEER NOW??

Seriously, dude. Let it go.

(DID I MENTION THAT CHRIS DREW THIS IMAGE OF JARED???)

Oh yeah. One last thing:
    

So silken.