In honor of…

20 06 2010

My dear friend Chels, aka The Lady of the House from a post of yore, I return to you, oh blog, for another installment of her absolute favorite thing in the world as of 6 AM on a Monday morning, following an evening of drinking.

ANIMAL KINGDOM MISSED CONNECTIONS.

Enjoy. And happy graduation, dearest Lady of the House.

NAKED MOLE RAT MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I was naked. Seriously, if you look at me again, I’ll call the police.”

“I was naked. Do I have to tell you again? Just because the blinds are open doesn’t mean you have the right to look into my window right when I step out of the shower. It’s a right to privacy, man. I’m serious, the police are on speed dial.”

“I was naked. You were wearing a Detroit Lions jersey and finally, I didn’t mind you staring at me so much. I also appreciate big cats and ruined economies. Next time you’re looking, why don’t you come in? I’ll be waiting. Naked. As usual.”

PORCUPINE MISSED CONNECTIONS

“You were on the Red Line headed to Addison. I was on the platform at Howard. Our quills poked each other and yours were so sharp, they skewered right through my skin. I got stuck to you and as a result, stuck in the doors when they closed on the left. We’re actually still connected – the “missed” part of it is that I missed my train whilst skewered to yours. If you could give me a ride back home, that’d be great.”

“I saw you at the science fair. I was the one in the ‘Will Rock Music Make Your Porcupine Crazy’ booth. You were at the ‘The Right Way to Pet a Porcupine’ display. The sign said to pet you in the direction of your quills. But baby, I want to rub you the wrong way. Reply if you want to get dangerous up in here.”

ONYX MISSED CONNECTIONS

“Oh wait, I’m a kind of rock. I’m on the wrong site.”

BLACK PANTHER MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I was a black panther. You were probably a black panther, but you might have been a cougar or a jaguar. Honestly, I get us confused sometimes. I drive a Prius, by the way.”

“I was a black panther. You were definitely a cougar, or at least you said you were a cougar. But you might have meant that in the new, slangy sort of way, like you were a hip lady cat who likes to bang young man cats. We talked about how offensive that term was – I wasn’t really listening because I was staring at your tips… of your claws. If you want to change the way you think about cougars, you ought to reply to this message. I can change your life.”

“Seriously, does anyone on here know what a panther is? No one? There should be a hybrid website between missed connections and wikipedia so I can look at pictures and say, ‘Yes, yes I am on the right page now.’ Whatever. Who wants to fuck? M2F only, no fat chicks.”

CHICKEN MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I saw you at the Friday social in Henhouse #4. Not the new #4, the old one that’s by #8. It’s a weird system, I know. You had gorgeous plumage, the kind I’d like to pluck before I cook you and eat you for dinner. No, no… that’s a metaphor. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t really do that! That’d be cannibalism! Ha ha! No… no. I wouldn’t.”

“You: man who told me to ‘bock, bock, bock it up, baby.’ Me: woman who didn’t get your joke. I get it now. Pretty clever. In anticipation of your response, I have eaten several extra pieces of gravel with my feed. You know what that means. No gag reflex.”

“You were ahead of me on a weird, long piece of ground that kept moving towards a great, fiery abyss. It looked like heaven, which is probably why we were both so calm – who couldn’t use a sauna after a hard day’s work of pecking at stuff? You winked at me and then… holy shit, is that a guillotine? Yup, yup, your head just got chopped off. I gotta get out of here. Forget this missed connection, I gotta keep my wits about me, what would Rocky do? WHAT WOULD ROCKY D-”

PENGUIN MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I thought I was looking in a mirror when I saw you. Sleek yellow beak, pristine black feathers with an adorable little white breast feathers area. I don’t know if you saw me – I was towards the back, next to the guy with the sleek yellow beak, pristine black feathers with an adorable little white breast feathers area, but in front of the other guy with the sleek yellow beak, pristine black feathers with an adorable little white breast feathers area. It might be a long shot, but I’d like to warm my lonely nights with you.”

“We locked eyes across the glacier. Even though you were not my husband, I agreed to pass my egg to you so I could go get some food. We were so focused on each other that we ended up letting the egg freeze to death by accident. Please respond before my husband gets back. He’s going to be upset.”

“We shared a sardine platter at the Penguins of the World Conference in Greenland. I was giving you a hard time because I’m the kind of penguin that lives in warm weather, and you totally have to live in Antfartica. I only meant it as an opener to ask you to come on vacation to my tropical isle, but you huffed away before I had a chance to invite you. They don’t call us Jackass Penguins for nothing. The offer still stands if I didn’t blow my load on you. Chance! If I didn’t blow my chance.”

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Dating Advice from Your Weird Spinster Neighbor

15 03 2010

(More imaginary excerpts from an imaginary life I’m imagining. You may be wondering if I’m starting to show signs of schizophrenia at this point. You may be right.)

  • There are a few ways to prove to yourself that your boyfriend likes you. Try cooking him a terrible meal. If he pretends to like it, he’s yours. If he points out that he won’t put raw cat food in his mouth, this little minnow needs to be thrown back into the sea. Where he is not a salt water fish and will likely die.
  • Have you thought about plucking  your eyebrows? You should stop thinking about that. A man likes a lady he can look in the eyes, but can’t make direct eye contact with because of the eyebrows. You should never make direct eye contact with a man. It’s disrespectul.
  • Mention Harry S Truman whenever you can, but pretend not to know that the S doesn’t have a period after it. Men like it when they know more about periods than you do.
  • I see you wear pinstripes a lot. You ever think that might be part of the problem? No? Okay.
  • I had a few boyfriends when I was younger. Much younger, oh so many years ago. I must have been nine, ten years old the last time I had a boyfriend. They don’t really like to be “it”. It’s hard to explain, but make sure your man is never “it”.
  • Those plain t-shirts you’ve been getting at the Gap or whatever are a little… revealing. Something like J Jill is how you really snag a man. Or any place you can pick up some curtainy florals. That Fraulein Maria had a point or five in The Sound of Music. Actually, the closer  you can come to shaping your life around The Sound of Music, the better.
  • Good Housekeeping. Just reading the magazine, not actually doing it. Have you seen my living room? It’ll take you a few years to get that “just forgot to clean” look, but you’ll get there. Practice makes perfect.
  • Taco Bell: It’s not just for dinner. Always, always appropriate. Particularly on anniversaries.
  • You have to remember: a man is just like a lady, except with some extra pieces. You can get those extra pieces at a lot of places that are vaguely more respectable than you’d expect.
  • You should consider calling men more often. In fact, you get one phone call per minute that you’ve met them. Talked in a bar for twenty minutes? Call him twenty times the next day. No, it’s true! It’s a ratio! I read it in a book! You don’t have to believe me, but you know you could show a little bit more respect to me as your elder. I have a lot of life experi- oh, what’s that? A call on the other line? Okay, but this was a 7 minute call, so I’ll talk to you 7 times tomorrow.




Diary of a Mad White Tween

11 03 2010

In which we take a look at page 61 from an imaginary diary of an imaginary girl who is like, OMG, having the craziest year ever.

***

“blood all over her gym shorts. And Mrs. Pierson is like, ‘Corinne, it’s just your period’ and Corinne is like ‘No way, Mrs. P, it’s not my period.’ And we were all thinking like, maybe it is her period, maybe she’s becoming a woman before all of us but like, in what universe is that even fair? She’s never even been to a rainbow party and all of the sudden she thinks she’s hot shit because she got her period before everyone else? Yeah right. Corinne is such a skank. God.

But then it’s like, totally obvious that it’s not actually her period because we were playing volleyball and because our school is SO GHETTO there were razor blades stuck to the volleyball and one sliced Corinne in the ass because Randy kicked it at her because Corinne and Randy were dating, but then Randy cheated on her and somehow that’s Corinne’s fault. But he was trying to do it as a metaphor, you know? Like he wanted her back, so he kicked a volleyball at her ass. Kind of like lighting a fire under your ass. But a volleyball. Randy is soooo deep. I wonder if he’ll take me to prom? Oh BTDubs, diary, it was totes me that Randy cheated on Corinne with. But like, it doesn’t even matter, it’s not like anything was facebook official. They were so barely dating, it wasn’t even MySpace official. Like, how lame can you get?

ANYWAY. So now Corinne’s bleeding out her ass, but everyone still thinks it’s her period, and so everyone’s just laughing at her, but then it starts to get pretty obvious that either she has a super heavy flow (just like Mean Girls!) or something because she passes out and Mrs. Pierson’s all like, ‘Oh someone call the nurse’ like it’s not even HER RESPONSIBILITY to call the nurse. I mean, hello?!?! What do they pay you for, just to teach gym and not even know what a period is? God.

So she’s passed out and then there starts to be a puddle of blood on the floor and Greg slips in it, but he doesn’t fall all the way down because he’s so flexible from wrestling. Woof, Greg. Wrestling.

But then the nurse gets there and like, slaps Corinne in the face because that’s apparently what you’re supposed to do in these sort of situations and then all of the sudden the paramedics are there and she’s getting oxygen or whatever and she like, wakes up for one second to wave to Randy, like HOW SKANKY CAN YOU BE? YOU’RE DYING, GET OVER IT.

And then they take her away and she updated her facebook later, so she’s probably okay. Randy’s like, totally back in love with her because he’s disgusting. It’s like, you’re the one that sliced her in the ass, Randy. It’s cool that you get how to do metaphors, but if you love her so much, why’d you try to kill her? I guess her parents are gonna sue the school or something, which means she’ll probably go to private school and become a lesbian.

But at least she didn’t get her period before me.”

*****

JOKE ATTACK:

Question: What did the women in the middle ages call their periods?

Answer: The Traveling Menstrual

Alternates: The Red Plague, A Rat Gnawed Off My Insides Time, No Babies to Work the Farm O’Clock





Animal Kingdom Missed Connections

12 12 2009

Because yesterday I ended up on goldfishconnections.com trying to figure out how Imma get my goldfish fed when I go home for Christmas: Extended Director’s Cut. They claim you only have to feed goldfish every 4 days and they can survive a week without food. I claim that how can you NOT feed those little googly eyes every day? How could you not feed anything every day, except sharks, spiders, and snakes? Whatevs.

The point is, upon speaking with my friend Malcolm, he mentioned that maybe I would meet my husband on that site. I said it’d have to be called goldfishmissedconnections.com for that to happen. He wrote me a goldfish missed connection.

Which made me think about other animals, as per usual.

Goldfish Missed Connections

“I was gold. You were gold. You were swimming around in circles for an hour. I was pretty much following you. We shared a meal and, I think, a moment.”

“You were behind the plastic green tropical plant. I was… man, where was I? You were behind the plastic green tropical plant. I was… man, where was I? You were behind the plastic green tropical plant. I was… man, where was I?”

“I was swimming around, eating some rocks and spitting them out because it turns out they were not good. You were skillfully floating around upside down, sunbathing. I yelled to you to ask you how you were doing that, but I couldn’t hear if you responded. I’m listening now.”

Turtle Missed Connections

“We climbed up on the log at the exact same time, you with your forest-camouflage shell. I lost y- oh no, wait. I can still see you. You haven’t really moved, and neither have I. Hey, I’m Ron. Tina? That’s a pretty name. How big’s my tail? Girl, I don’t know if you can even deal with this biz.”

“You were stuck upside down on your back when some gigantic creature with what can only be described as ‘freckles’ picked you up in  his claws and put you that way, letting out a maniacal and guttural sound. I tried to help you, but I couldn’t get enough momentum to flip you over because I am a turtle and can’t go fast. Sorry.”

Banana Mixed Connections:

“You were a brown beauty. I’m yellow with a little brown spot from where I fell when I was sooooo drunk the other day. If you’re down with the swirl, so am I. See you at breakfast?”

Cat Missed Connections:

“You were asleep. I was asleep. Actually, I didn’t really see you.”

“I laughed when you puked on the floor. But then I saw you digging around in my poop, and I knew it was love. We made eye contact; you hissed and accidentally puked on the floor again. Please, respond if you remember.”

Giraffe Missed Connections:

“You had a long neck. I had a long neck. I thought I was looking in a mirror, but then I realized I was looking at a beautiful angel. You ever think about going pro? With a neck like that, you could be in pictures, baby. I’m an agent, by the way. You’re going to want to respond to this one.”

“I was galloping really weirdly because our bodies are evolutionarily bizarro. You were so small, like a little dwarf giraffe, maybe only six feet high! Like a little baby giraffe. Oh, wait. You were a baby giraffe. Call me in two years.”

“We were nibbling on a tree together over by that one watering hole where Steven got devoured by like, eight lions last week. Our tongues touched by accident. You giraffe blushed. I started to say something, but you galloped away. It wasn’t going to be anything gross. All I was going to say is ‘Man, with tongues this long, it should be called kisssssssssing, am I right?’ I miss you.”

Gorilla Missed Connections:

“You and I were sitting back to back, picking at stuff on our hair. I don’t know if you were, but I was eating all the stuff I was finding. It was really delish, and I’d love to take you out to dinner one day and eat all of the stuff off of my body. Together.”

“I was getting pretty mad and beating my chest because some douche with weak sauce was stepping all up in my territory. You were discovering the basics of language and using your hands to communicate with some hairless gorilla-esque thing. I think your name was Koko. Please, Koko, how do you say ‘I feel a connection’?”

Aaaannddd I could do this all day it turns out. Recurring feature? I’m back to being an animal blog, whoops. And awesome. And mostly whoops.





A Topical Post about Newsworthy Affairs.

3 12 2009

There has been a lot of news recently regarding Tiger Woods. Poor little guy, maybe getting hit in the head with a golf club, maybe just being in a weird accident, maybe getting with two hot chicks at the same time. I’m sure he’s okay because I am sure he is made of Kevlar. It would explain a lot.

But how is the rest of his species dealing with this crisis?

An Open Letter to the other Tigers of the world,

Dear Tigers,

Hi guys. It’s me, Sarah Hayden. You may have seen me seeing some of you when I went to like, a million zoos over the summer. There actually weren’t too many of you there, but maybe you heard about it. Maybe you read my blog. I don’t know what tigers do all day. What do you guys do all day? Go to the mall? Oh… MAUL things? Got it. Cool!

How are you? Are you upset about your friend Tiger Woods? I bet you read about that on your blogs. I just wanted to show some support for you, let you know that some of us regular people are thinking about you. I mean, I was a cat for Halloween, so you know. Some of my best friends are cats. Actually, that’s not true. They’re people. I hope that didn’t come off as facetious. I only meant to make you comfortable speaking with me, but now I feel as though I may have offended you. Man, the news is right. Racism is tough!

Have you guys thought about not being striped anymore? I mean, not to be rude, but orange and black stripes? A little gauche. You should check out what your bros in Siberia are doing – the all-white thing. It’s really fantast- oh, this is getting racist again. I’m not saying that white tigers are BETTER than regular tigers. I’m just saying maybe that color would suit you as well. Maybe it would help you get your confidence back, make you a little more blendy-inny than orange and black stripes. Although maybe orange and black is pretty blendy-inny in the jungle? I’m not totally sure, I’ve never been there. I’m from New Jersey. No, the good part of it. No, the part without all the hair gel. Yeah, that part.

I fear I’ve offended you again, tigers, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to say – if you need someone to talk to during this mess, you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you. Like I said, I was a Halloween cat. I know what it’s like to be in your situation – people trying to hit you with golf clubs, getting gross animal guts under your claws, being on cereal boxes even on days when you’re like “no, maybe not today” – I get it. So, if you need to talk, just let me know. You can email me if you want, or just reply to my blog. Or maybe next time I go to the zoo (which might be pretty soon, let’s be real – I mean does this girl have a life or WHAT, am I right, tigers?) you can just kind of stare at me blankly like you hate your life, and I’ll know that that means you’ve heard me.

I got yo back, tigers.

Warm regards,

Sarah Hayden, Esq.





Conversations with Zappa

19 09 2009

INT. HAYDEN HOUSEHOLD – DAY

Zappa and Sarah are hanging out, watching TV, doing regular daytime stuff. Zappa is getting restless.

Sarah: Do you need to go out?

Zappa: Well, yes, but I don’t want to trouble you.

Sarah: It’s okay. I was just about to lay down and take a nap, but okay.

Zappa: I can tell you’re upset, we don’t have to go out.

Sarah: Really?

Zappa: No, we do, I have to pee.

Sarah and Zappa stand and approach the door, in perfect synch. Sarah opens the door. Zappa pauses.

Sarah: Go.

Zappa: Aren’t you… aren’t you coming?

Sarah: I pee inside.

Zappa: Sometimes.

Sarah: ZING!

Zappa: No, seriously, aren’t you coming?

Sarah: Ugh, fine, I will stand outside with you.

Zappa: Okay, but I cannot go to the bathroom unless you are within 5 feet of me, so you will have to walk around with me as if I am on a leash, but I won’t be on a leash, I will be in our fenced-in backyard, ignoring my ability to run freely like a regular dog.

Sarah: Fine, I will walk around.

Zappa and Sarah proceed to walk around the backyard, smelling EVERYTHING. Zappa seems like she’s ready to pee.

She hesitates.

Sarah: What’s your problem?

Zappa: Don’t watch.

Sarah: I’m not watching.

Zappa: I can’t go if you are making eye contact with me.

Sarah: Zappa, I am not even looking at you.

Zappa: Well, look at me, but don’t make eye contact.

Sarah: YOU ARE THE WEIRDEST EFFING DOG.

Zappa: I KNOW.

END SCENE.





A conversation between me and my dog

3 09 2009

My dog, Zappa, is the weirdest effing dog on the books. She is more of a needy lez girlfriend than a dog.

INT. HAYDEN HOUSEHOLD, 11:30 AM.

Sarah and Zappa have just come downstairs after a good night’s sleep. No one else is home, which seems to put Zappa on edge.

Sarah: Do you want to go out?

Zappa: No, not really.

Sarah: Do you want a dog biscuit?

Zappa: Don’t patronize me, it’s only 11:30 AM.

Sarah: Do you want to scratch up the leather couch before Dad gets home and yells at you?

Zappa: Well… no. No, we did that yesterday, didn’t we?

Sarah: You did. I’m a human.

Zappa: Right.

Sarah: Do you want to lay on your bed and ignore me?

Zappa: Meh… not really.

Sarah: How about staring out the window and growling at the little kids that you want to eat?

Zappa: I guess I could.

Sarah: But you don’t want to.

Zappa: Not right now.

Sarah: Do you want to just sit on my feet in the middle of the kitchen floor so I can’t go anywhere or do anything without upsetting you?

Zappa: YES, YES THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT.

END SCENE.

Zappa, you’re a real jerk sometimes.

——

What do you call a lottery ticket for dogs?

A DOG SCRATCHER.

Other acceptable answer: “You Lucky Dog”, 101 Dalmatian Chances, A Winner Dog.