the holidays are over.

I cannot say that I miss them. In fact, I am kind of a humbug when it comes to Christmas. I had a good, low-key time with people I love, particularly my grandmother. I am a big fan of my grandmother . . . and the food she makes . . . (sorryinnerfatassgain).

Anywho, as a family, we saw Black Swan and The Fighter. Both are excellent.

Before Black Swan, as I had already seen it, my uncle asked me, "Is this a chick flick?"

"More like chick-on-chick flick," I answered.

The movie began.

Perhaps my favorite moments were the sex scenes. Watching Portman lez with That 70's Girl is so much better sitting next to your loved ones, especially if all of them are over 40. My grandmother had to leave for a bit during the post-roll scene (ifyouhaveseenyouknow). I continued eating my snack calmly as my whole family sat, shell-shocked by what That 70's Girl was doing to Portman.

Referring to that scene, my grandmother later exclaimed, "I can't believe they would show that in a movie!"

I wasn't shocked at all. That seems just like any other thing nowadays. It seems like our generation has grown up to accept all kinds of people . . . and I like it. Everyone is equal and has the right to be happy.

(eventhisbetch.)

Tell me how you really feel...

Now, as most of you know, I work in a sandwich store. It's a small, local business with an extremely loyal clientele (i.e. a lot of regulars). One particular group of regulars seems to talk endlessly about every negative subject they can think of. Everything is wrong with the city! The world is going to Hell in a handbasket! Global warming?! Ha! That doesn't exist.

Needless to say, being the obnoxiously optimistic person (and environmentalist!) that I am, I have trained myself to hear the ocean instead... Sometimes, the Pachelbel Canon plays in the distance.

Anywho, back to the subject at hand. Now, when something doesn't go my way, I am normally a pretty adaptable individual (on the outside, at least). I prefer to look at things as "it'll work out somehow." These "negative Nancys," however, are slowly breaking me.

So I got to thinking... What pisses me off?

What makes Nanners want to call a hotline and complain?

What is so heinous that the mere thought of it makes me want to scream my head off?

And then it hit me...

...Joan Cusack.

(rightthereinfrontofmeallalong)

1 copy of Rumours + 1 birthday suit = shaaaaake it!

Now that we've all had a good laugh that a serious website has the URL "Pee Pee Cock," let's catch up.

So December 5th was my birthday. Yup, the old Sagittarius turned 24. I've been looking into some retirement centers and maybe a condo in Miami.

Let's talk about my birthday party . . . the Shit Show Supreme, as I've come to call it. Everyone knows that the cheapest, most effective way to ensure a jolly good time is a bottle of Everclear and a jug of Hawaiian Punch. Just smelling it singed my nose hair . . . so I poured in a Gatorade and a 4Loko to balance it out. I call it blackout punch. All I know is there was a lot of dancing . . . and that everyone was acting insane.

4Loko, man. That beverage and I have a long, strange history.

[butthat'sastoryforanotherday.]

A long-awaited post...my apologies.

First of all, allow me to explain myself. With the arrival of Thanksgiving came the arrival of pumpkin pie.

For those of you who have known me less than a year, you should know I lost 50 lbs last year. I taught myself to hate everything that tasted good...

...except pumpkin pie. What can I say? I guess it brings out my inner fatass.

After having my stomach pumped, they took me into a little room to ask me "some questions."

Was it an accident? Did I eat that much pumpkin pie by accident or was I trying to escape?

Sorry to disappoint ya'll.

(wasactuallyjustbeingafatass.)

Happy Thanksgivin'.

 The word "conviviality" is of Latin origin. It is the word which describes a feeling evoked by a large meal with a group of loved ones. Conviviality . . .

Thanksgiving is definitely my favorite holiday. There are no gifts, no songs, etc. It is a holiday about family, food, and appreciating the shit you have. And there's always shit to be thankful for . . . even if you make fucking sandwiches for a living. :)


All my love,
Nanners

"What are you doing tonight? Are you busy?"

One of my least favorite questions of all time.

All of my friends...in school...in a career...stuff to prepare for...

And then there's me. Ol' Nanners.

"Do you have stuff you need to do tonight or do you want to go out? Are you busy?"

Am I busy?

AM I BUSY?!

I make fucking sandwiches for a living. Yeah. I am so super busy. Busy working on my thesis. Doing my research. My fucking sandwich research.

By the way, the team and I have almost come up with a cure.

(forthecommonsandwich)

And so it begins...

...Ol' Nanners has finally broken down and joined the blogging community.

Prepare yourselves, bitches. Things are about to get RADICAL. An Olympic commentator said that one time (minus the whole "bitches" thing) and it has always stayed with me, like a pivotal childhood memory...or a Siamese twin.

So, what do I blog about? I am sure this is everyone's first question when writing a blog, but I feel like I should be able to ask it because I am better than most people...hm.

But that still doesn't solve my problem. I need inspiration. I am going to go in my room, blare some scream-o music while I self-mutilate, and think up something extremely dreary to draw attention to myself.

Until next time,

Nanners