"It is all that AND a bag of chips...in that it contains a bag of chips..."

Translation: Leave it to Stephen Colbert to redeem Taco Bell. If you missed this on his show the past week, totally worth the 4 minutes of your time (don't act like you have anything better to do...you're already on my blog which means you're either killing time at work, or killing time while your Farmville loads).

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I'd like to think I inspired Stephen (I'd also like to note here it is quite obvious I suffer from illusions of grandeur). I'll be skipping the tacos for dinner tomorrow in lieu of homemade lasagna. Yes- she cooks as excellently as she blogs, folks. Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend! I'm sure I'll find the inspiration to blog about something other than Toxic Hell before my vacation. So many ridiculous things happen around here inspiration pretty much knocks on the door, comes in, and has a few beers with me before making a complete ass of itself. Happy Saturdazzle, readers!

I often wondered what was really in a chalupa...

Translation: I've been hit with some news from MSNBC today that shook me to my very core...the headline reads: "Alabama law firm to Taco Bell: That's not beef." (Shout out to Lauren from Notes from the Clarinet- I hope you don't like the Taco Bell in Alabama all that much...)

Anyway, after reading the article I am told Taco Bell's (or as I lovingly refer to it, Toxic Hell) "beef" is really only made up of about 35% beef, 65% random assortment of things you probably never really wanted to know you willingly put in your body.

Reading that article pretty much made me want to throw up everything I've ever eaten from Taco Bell. I am a die-hard fan of their food. It is quite possibly the best way to cure the weekend bender hangover. Hands down. Probably because it causes all the alcohol remaining in your system to reroute itself to fight off the diseases the "feef" (fake beef) ingestion is causing you and your poor internal organs.


Imposter! No wonder you're less than a dollar- YOU'RE NOT REALLY MADE OF COW.


No one is suing Toxic Hell, they just want them to quit with the false advertising. So instead of Taco Bell claiming they use real seasoned ground beef in their food, their slogan could read something along the lines of: "Taco Bell: We don't really know what it's made from either." Or "Fourthmeal: when you're drunk at 2 A.M. you won't even notice it's not real beef."

This makes me very sad inside. It also makes me want to do a full body cleanse. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some KFC. Because I'm almost 100% positive that really is chicken. Happy eating, readers.

"The ice caps are melting, Leonard. In the future, swimming won't be optional."*

Translation: In the past 48 hours I have experienced what I shall refer to as “the bipolar weather effect on humanity” or more simply put “More proof Mother Nature owns us all.”

Let me set the scene…

On Saturday it was about 5 degrees, snow would not stop falling, negative wind chill with breezes averaging in the 30mph zone. The sky was gray, the cold air pummeled through me with a force I’d imagine similar to being sacked by Jared Allen (however in that event I’d hope the ending would be very different).

On Sunday (also known as “today”) it was still only about 8 degrees. BUT- there was no more blizzard. The skies were clear and BLUE (I had forgotten that is what color the sky is supposed to be), the sun was shining, reflecting upon the snow and making it glisten like the largest of Cartier diamonds..mmm sparkley…I even saw a Blue Jay land on the tree outside my dressing room window. It was like a scene from Bambi. You know, before the horror ensued.

Ok, thanks to my elaborate capabilities as a writer, the scene has been painted. Why you ask? Because in the past 48 hours I have seen people go from acting like complete jerks (you'd think everyone who lived up here was French. Don't get all defensive, I'm French Canadian in heritage I can hate all I want), to the politest members of society (think British).

On Saturday I nearly got body slammed in a Walmart, ran over in a parking lot (SURPRISE- also at the Walmart), and dealt with what I have to assume were people who did not understand the meaning of a stop sign.

On Sunday I had a man hold the door OPEN for me at the library, was assisted by the politest staff member to ever work the self check area at Meijer, and the roads were smooooooth sailing in my mother’s new Cadillac.

I guess the point I’m trying to make here is: WINTER- YOU RUIN EVERYTHING. I don’t ski, I don’t snowboard, ice fishing has got to be the stupidest excuse for drinking beer EVER (hint- you never need an excuse to crack a cold one), and I sadly do not own a snowmobile.

However, I like wearing bikinis, swimming pools, boating (or drinking beer in a docked boat), running, generally being able to feel my face while I’m outside, and never fearing if my car will suddenly decide it no longer likes the road and skids off to commit suicide on black ice…this has yet to happen but now that I’ve said it 5 bucks says I don’t make it to work tomorrow because I hit some.

I’m not the skinniest person in the world, but dammit I lack the layering to survive a winter this cold. So to cheer myself up from the winter funk I dyed my hair red. And will start packing for my trip to New Mexico for my second anniversary STAT. And then…Florida…here I come. And baby, you better show me some sunshine and alcoholic drinks with umbrellas in them so large they shade my pale ass from the sun. The wonderful, wonderful sun. From here on out this winter I live by the mantra: “Global warming…that would be a convenient truth.”


See this face: this is the face of a woman who knows in two weeks- she will be able to feel her toes at all times.


*If it were possible, I would only title my blog posts with quotes from Sheldon on "Big Bang Theory."

Man was formed for society. The Snuggie, however, was not.

Translation: I have officially lost all hope for humanity.

So I'm watching The Colbert Report the other day (which is probably the 2nd greatest show EVER), and Stephen plays a clip of THIS:


I have 5 things to say after viewing that commercial:
1. I never thought I'd see the day when wearing a Snuggie was not the worst/laziest/stupidest thing anyone could ever don.
2. Adults do not belong in public in an over glorified onesie.
3. Adults do not belong in public with OTHER adults all in an over glorified onesie.
4. It has butt flaps. BUTT FLAPS.
5. Oh. My. God.

I let a few days pass, tried to forget about the injustice the people at the Forever Lazy company (which I researched, and much to my dismay...actually exists)are pushing on to a society that is so lazy this thing is actually selling. And for $29.95 no less. No wonder America is in the red. But then it happened...I was watching last night's episode of Conan (in case you were wondering, this is the greatest show ever) and I viewed another video that was, for lack of a better term...a viral bitchslap to my soul...



The "*facepalm* heard 'round the world" occurred after I viewed this disgrace to humanity. I don't know if I will be able to stop shaking my head in shame by the time I have to go to work tomorrow...to educate our nation's youth. And if there's one thing I hope they learn from me after I've seen these videos, it's that it's NOT OK to dress like a 3 year old in public and generally act douche-tastically in front of other people.

This coming from the woman who is still in her fancy teacher clothes with a dingy old bathrobe on over it. But at least I'm doing it in the privacy of my own home.

"Writer's block is a fancy term made up by whiners so they can have an excuse to drink alcohol."

Translation: Steve Martin is a very wise man. I whole-heartedly agree with that sentiment. I went to bed thinking about an absolutely awesome, kick ass, change your life blog post...promptly fell asleep watching SNL and totally forgot about it...this is what happens when you watch Saturday Night Live. It causes memory loss.

So instead of the spectacularly mind blowing awesomeness I was going to bring you with my satirically hilarious sarcasm (just go with me on this one), I am instead going to bring you a clip of one of my all time favorite recurring SNL skits:



Just a reminder this show used to be funny...you're welcome. I promise you I will be back with some substantial ramblings of my own soon. But you know what? Its lazy Sunday...I am ready to relax, watch some football, procrastinate with my school work...and pray to God the sun shines for more than 5 minutes today. Quite frankly I'm too cold to bring my A game today. If anyone suggests I get a snuggie and "deal with it," I would kindly suggest you shove it where the sun don't shine...which could either be your ass, or any part of Michigan.

UPDATE: As you'll notice (oh's and ah's are acceptable), there is now a nav bar at the top of the blog with easy access (that's what she said) to my email, twitter, about, and blogger community pages. Yooouuuuu'rrrrre welcome.

There seems to be a robot uprising happening in my house...

Translation: And I'm hoping it's not of the "Maximum Overdrive" variety.

Over the course of the past few weeks I've noticed my house has been lacking it's usual "joie de vivre" coziness and instead has embraced an "all humans must die" mantra. Unfortunately the machines that seem to be eager to kill all humanoids look nothing like this:


Shirley Manson is the only killer robot I want in my house

And everything like this:


What a terrifying...dishwasher?

Yeah...about that...so this ridiculously overpriced (sorry Mom but it totally is) piece of equipment seems to no longer fall under human command. During its cycle, it beeps incessantly (perhaps to alert the other machines that the day is coming!!!). Short beeps, long beeps, blips, blops, whatever...it's a certain form of Morse code that is signaling impending doom. I have a feeling it makes certain it switches off the antibacterial mode during every wash to make sure we die a slow, painful, crusty plate filled death. That is, when the thing actually chooses to start. For the most part, I liken the dishwasher to a 73 Ford Pinto...if you can get it to start, it's a damn miracle.

Then there's our mammoth GE fridge with freezer drawer. I wanted a bowl of ice cream the other day, and although I am freakishly strong, I damn near burst through the carton while scooping my french vanilla goodness. Upon checking, the freezer had switched from the optimum setting of -2, to 32 degrees. My ice cream melty, lean cuisines not so...cuisiney, frozen ground beef and chicken, a breeding ground of evil and dysentery...

Damn...I thought this could only happen in Oregon, circa 1848?

Now, on the other side of the coin, this brings me to a machine that seems to want to work TOO well for our own good...the dreaded thermostat (gasp! the horror!). The other day it was unusually cold in the house, and my mother noticed the thermostat had reset itself thinking 30 degrees Fahrenheit was an appropriate temperature for a house to be. Perhaps if you are made of steel (I knew it was in cahoots with the freezer)? Yesterday, it's chosen temperature for a 3 story house was 60 degrees. Apparently it wanted to meet us in the middle, but only if the dishwasher didn't find out. I beg you for compassion, thermostat, I have but feeble, thin Texan blood...I need HEAT.

Which brings us to another piece of fine luxury living you should feel comforted by- the fireplace. I am terrified of the fireplace. Anything that constantly has a pilot light of a one foot diameter burning and can be flipped on with a switch- that just seems deadly. God forbid you accidentally, ahem, break wind, while flipping the switch- you could be a goner. Up in flames!

However, the fireplace is encased in glass. Because rich people want to be able to see through the flames without feeling the warmth, of course. It's the fancy alternative to just lighting your money on fire and watching it burn from 100 feet away. I digress... The glass hotbox of death was in terrible shape when my parents found this house. Apparently, the thing was a tomb of torture to birds who found their way in through the flue, but never could get back out...as my mother described it, I thought of the scene as something along the lines of "Saw 85- This One's for the Birds."

Bottom line- I only feel safe in my room with the trusty old laptop and vintage Sony. These machines are too old to have the wherewithal to want me dead. Plus they're on the second floor so I am fairly certain the aforementioned Terminators haven't gotten to them yet...

Today is my birthday, and I get one every year...

Translation: But alas, I type to you surrounded by tissues, and not tissue paper. Sick as a dog! Better compared to the last couple days, but after a shower and drying my hair, the will to get out of my bathrobe has left me.

Sickness aside, I am happy I have made it yet another year. And at this point I am usually too hungover from birthday shots to have any moments of definitive clarity, but thanks to this dayquil, I realize how far I've come these past 365. Drumroll, please...Kat Von Devious's reasons why I'm not such a horrible human being anymore (a.k.a, hate to see you go, 23):

1. In the past year I've realized sometimes you have to move home in order to grow up (SEE ALSO: Vodka isn't always the answer; the booze paradox). In moving to Michigan to live with my parents and focus on my master's program, I realized there's a whole hell of a lot more to life than dollar drinks on Tuesdays. Anyone under the age of 23 might disagree, wait til you hit 24...you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.

I've got a level of clarity I never could've found in my dear old friend vodka. I am sure of my career, my relationships, and where I would like to go from here. I no longer wander from bar to bar looking like a lost puppy in need of free Vegas Bombs. Although, they're always welcome.

2. Patience really is a virtue, but I will never be graceful (SEE ALSO: I'm eloquent when not ACTUALLY putting my foot in my mouth). As a teacher in training this has never been clearer to me than when I am in charge of 200ish teenagers for 7 hours each day. I didn't ever fancy myself patient, but lordy when you need it- I realized I got quite a bit. An amount that has and will surely, make me one hell of an educator when I have my own class. Which brings me to...

3. Maybe children aren't so bad (SEE ALSO: Keep plenty of sanitizer on hand). Aside from rampant illness, I've become quite fond of children over the age of 10. Don't get me wrong, I still have very little mothering instincts and need to focus on being able to raise a plant before I ever have any of my own...but those little ankle biters just aren't so bad after all. Of course, knowing I have the power to ship people to the principal's office if the moment calls for it also helps immensely here.

4. The customer is not always right (SEE ALSO: Reasons why I will never again work customer service). After I quit working for a certain well known shipping company this past year (legally, we're not allowed to name names), I have never been happier. Never again will people tell me I ruined Christmas because they brought their packages in late, or expect me to deliver it myself (let me gain 300 pounds, put on a red suit, and find some reindeer real quick because I am committed to your shipping services!!!).

If there's one thing I learned working customer service for a year (and waiting tables for over 6)- it is that 98% of the time, my dear customer - YOU ARE DEAD WRONG. I merely shake my head when I am waiting in line behind people who think they are of great importance, enough to be a complete jerk to the poor kid trying to earn wages behind the counter doing a way better job than they ever could. Also, the first rule of food service is never piss off the person handling your food...the same should also be applied for any and all customer service related encounters. We can really mess up your flow.

So I'll always be a goofball, but now I am a much more responsible one. Less booze, more books!

In the upcoming year I hope to get better at letting go of grudges, but an elephant never forgets! Haha. I also would like to maintain and improve all of the relationships I have with friends and family, but in particular, my sister. She and I have always been night and day, but as we get older, we grow closer.

I also hope to remain the steadfast girlfriend in a long distance relationship with an amazing man (coming up on 2 yrs in Feb!). This first starts with a seemingly simple thing- to stop thinking I am fat because it drives him crazy. I know I probably weigh about a buck 15, but I have a chub monster who lives in my head (and really loves cake). Other than that, I will continue being a loyal and devoted, kick ass, beer drinking, sports loving, firecracker of a significant other. He deserves the best of the best!

Now if you will excuse me, I am off to nap heavily and hope to be awakened in time for cake and feel slightly less like roadkill. Because when in doubt, on one's birthday, it all boils down to cake or death, anyway...



Update:
I am becoming increasingly spoiled by my aforementioned one hell of a boyfriend:

I am so in love with chivalry. Roses are the best gift a man could ever give a woman!

They say you can't go home again.

Translation: unless it is the will of the Gods, of course.

So I just got back from a 5 day stay in Texas...where it was a tropical 75 degrees for the most part...and today I wake up to snow. Needless to say it is 1 p.m. and I am still in my bathrobe, unable to muster up the energy it would require to take a 3 minute shower.

This could be because:
A) My allergies and sinuses are killing me/jet lag is a cruel mistress
B) I drank my own weight in beer this past weekend
C) Michigan is depressingly gray
OR D) All of the above

Now, I had an incredibly kick ass time with my crazy friends (who I almost caused massive coronaries to when I ordered water at a bar..sorry I am a pansy now), and an even better time when my boyfriend, whom I had not seen for 5 months, surprised me and came into town. I am so very lucky to have a significant other who knows how to keep me on my toes! I throw myself a lot of pity parties up here in Detroit, but dammit, I have some amazing people in my life that truly love me and I would be so lost without. For that I am grateful!

And on an extremely embarrassing note, it's time for a short anecdote (I love mocking myself). I know that the sun only shines for about 5 minutes during the day up here, but did not realize the toll it had taken on my already translucent skin...I got a sunburn while driving from Denton, TX to San Angelo, TX...which is only a 4 1/2 hour drive. My body is so unused to sun I got burned in a CAR WITH TINTED WINDOWS. On the plus, I didn't look like a corpse in any of my New Year's pictures. Just like I had lost a gallon or two of blood and maybe needed a ham sandwich. I'll take an upgrade where I can get it folks.

Annnnnd I am already homesick for Texas. Miss all the wonderful people and even the crappy little town I grew up in. Men held open doors, people gave courtesy waves on the highway, and not once did I feel it was possible I could be shanked. Southern hospitality is the way to go! Time to implement phase two of "get the Kat out of Detroit." Anyone know how high the lotto is going for up here these days?

Well, I've slept off what I hope to be the worst hangover I have in 2011 and now its time for that ham sandwich. God speed, readers...here's to a new year and another chapter in the chronicles of Kat Von Devious.