DimWhit’s Friday Fold-Up: DimDog Included.

I’m feeling a tad guilty because during last week’s Friday Fold-Up, I promised to acquaint you all with my ding-dongy, doggy daughter – DimDog – sometime throughout the week. I never got around to it, but in my defense, I was hoping she would do something interesting enough to be post-worthy.

But she didn’t.

In any case, now is probably as good of time as any for DimDog to make her blog debut. Without further ado, here are a few key facts and a bit of her bio:

  • DimDog is a boxer; a flashy brindle girl boasting 4 white socks and tiger stripes on her coat.
  • Her favorite activities include licking human feet and sunbathing in the nude.
  • Her birthday is November 2nd. She’s 2 1/2 years young.
  • For her breed, she’s a lil’ squirt; currently topping out around 50 lbs, when she’s supposed to be closer to 70 or 80.
  • She’s crude and disgusting and bluntly, not very lady-like whatsoever.

Also, she has the ability to be remarkably beautiful. Take for example, this photo:

See what I mean?!? But truthfully, she looks more like this 90% of the time:

For the Friday Fold-Up portion of this week’s post:

  • My blogging idol, the infamous Jenny Lawson of The Bloggess, read and freaking responded to one of my posts, in which I shared a technology tip for Mac users. She also followed me on Twitter. And in related news, I hyperventilated.

I was sporting the Taylor-Trademarked, OMG-I-Can’t-Believe-This-Is-Happening face.

  • Speaking of Twitter, this week I officially launched my campaign for world domination by infiltrating the social media realm. That’s right folks, the DimWhit is now on Facebook and Twitter and waiting for you and 1 million of your closest friends to assist in growing my cult.

  • I could still use your recommendations for the funniest females in the blogging world, because you seriously let me down. I’m not angry. I’m just trying to prove a point here, dammit. You can help me out here.
  • Additionally, since y’all never fail to surprise me, my least favorite post from the week attracted the most comments, likes and shares – so much so that I’m not going to bother linking it in today’s Fold-Up. Instead, I’m going to link this one, because I like it more and because it makes me giggle on the inside.
  • And finally, the inevitable happened this week: I got busted by my Mama and virtually grounded for my sometimes “colorful” language. This is from the lady that at one point banned me from saying something sucks because to her, sucks was a swear word. Isn’t that some bullshit? However, this is also the lady that has read the entire 50 Shades of Grey trilogy…and I’m pretty sure that’s worse.

Until next time!

Truth be told, I think I’m doing Throw Back Thursday wrong.

I admit it. Being in your 30’s sometimes means you’re only partially “hip”.

Which is why for months, when friends posted Facebook statuses with the hashtag #TBT (at least I know what a hashtag is), I thought it meant “Truth Be Told”. When that acronym started making less and less sense, I finally sought the guidance of a much younger cooler pal, who informed me it actually stood for “Throw Back Thursday”.

Well, kiss my vintage, that makes much more sense!

However, I still think I’m doing it wrong. For the most part, it seems as though people take TBT as an opportunity to post a nostalgic picture. And many of those photos are quite sweet.

But at least on this particular Throw Back Thursday, here was my weird-ass train of thought:

Hmm. I’m feeling a little chuckle deficient today. Wait! I know what never fails to get me giggling. That Taylor Swift song parody with the goat in it! Yup, that’ll do swell.

Considering that video was released well over a year ago, posting it alone should count for a TBT contribution, right? But oh no no, my brain didn’t stop there. Where did it wander to next?

Hey, remember that time in 2004, when that one dude who was running for President lost his shit during an impassioned albeit off the damn rails speech, and let loose a manic scream and it was kinda hilarious?

And then I started imagining what Taylor’s song would sound like when replacing the goat cries with Howard Dean’s lunatic screech.

And if I had adequate computer skills, you know I’d mesh those videos together so you could see what I mean. And that would be my TBT contribution. And, that’s why I think I’m doing Throw Back Thursday wrong.

Maybe I actually should just post a nice nostalgic picture instead, like the rest of the good boys and girls do.

Mommy and me, circa 1984?

Yup. That’s decidedly more appropriate.

My MacBook provides me daily affirmations! (and yours will too)

Yesterday, one of my favorite bloggers, Jenny Lawson of The Bloggess, came a tad unglued when feeling taunted by the ‘control’ button on her keyboard. What is that key for anyway??? She must have been on my mind, since I just happened to write about her yesterday in this post. I like to think it’s because we’re soul sisters, therefore granting me some kind of sixth sense that allows me to hear her cries of frustration carry over the vast, complex interwebs.

I understand, girl! I’ve had this MacBook going on 4 years now, and that damned button has yet to reveal its true purpose.

I wanted to reach out to her. To tell her…I GET IT! And to also let her know…there’s a better way to look at it! With one simple little trick, Jenny’s irritation can be magically turned into inspiration, and the rest of you Appleonians can use it too!

Just SHIFT your thinking!

The trick is simple, requiring only 3 easy steps!

1. Look at your keyboard.

2. Next, look at the image below and read the text aloud.

3. Now, look back at your keyboard.

Can you see it now? Our Macs provide us DAILY AFFIRMATIONS! It’s as if every time I find myself hesitating to click ‘publish’ on my most recent dumbass brilliant post, Steve Jobs himself stands peering over my left shoulder shouting words of encouragement.

You can do it, Whit!

You should do it, Whit!

The people need to see this, Whit!

You’re in FN CONTROL OF SPACE, Whit!!!

Gee, thanks Steve. And now that you (and hopefully Jenny) are aware of this MacBook-related best kept secret, you too can begin to harness the power of positive thinking your keyboard is desperately trying to bestow. Feels nice, eh?

FN right it does.

 

What’s trending in the news today? Kim and Kanye can suck it and America is awesome.

My faith in mankind may have just been restored, you guys!

We have a pretty patriotic household, and we’re proud of it. My husband’s service in the US Army means that, like many of you, we feel a certain amount of reverence on holidays like Memorial Day. We are acutely aware of it’s true meaning, and although we’ll enjoy a few too many adult beverages and fire up the grill like most people will, we’re also sure to be humbled by the profound respect we feel towards those who sacrificed everything. It’s a pretty big deal.

But today as the hubs and I sat watching our normal morning news programs, I started getting just a little irritated when I began noticing a slight deficiency in quality Memorial Day segments, and a longer-than-it-should-have-been story on Kim and Kanye’s landmark nuptials.

Photo courtesy People Magazine. Shitty comment bubbles courtesy dimwhit.

No, I’m not bitter.

Yes, I love celebrating love.

No, I don’t think every news story today HAS to be patriotic in nature.

But, yes…I do get a tad nauseated by what the media sometimes chooses to emphasize, and when it comes to repeated eye rolling at the sight of most reality “stars”,  I stand guilty as charged.

My annoyance prompted a quick look to see exactly what was trending for today’s searches. I mean, our morning programs seemed to believe more people were interested in Kimye (gag me already with the cute couple names) than they were in our veterans. Could it be true?!? I held my breath as I hit return on my keyboard. But to my relief, THIS is what I saw:

Thank you America. Thank you. The West/Kardashian brood didn’t even make the top 5! And while they may be in complete panic mode, my faith has been momentarily restored.

Kim and Kanye, congratulations…and suck it. xoxo

Have a great Memorial Day everyone!

Where were you the day of the chicken parmesan and spaghetti noodle crisis?

On a typical day, I am cool as a cucumber. I swear.

I am the quintessential social diplomat. I avoid confrontation. I’m calm and level-headed. Most things tend to tickle my funny bone long before they ruffle my feathers. That’s just how I am. Most of the time it’s good to have a long fuse, and sometimes maybe not. But that’s my personality. I let things roll off my back and I simply don’t get pissed off very often.

What could go wrong in Gatlinburg?

But, on rare occasion, my inner wolf claws and writhes, struggling with a sudden and surprising rage to break free and howl at the proverbial blue moon. I never know what is going to coax that damn beast to come forth from its cage, but when she gets a whiff of her prey, it’s already too late. She cannot be tamed. She cannot be reasoned with. And last Friday, to my utter bewilderment, while at dinner with family on vacation in lovely Gatlinburg, TN, my wolf broke loose without warning. What was the prey this savage beast got a whiff of, you may wonder?

Chicken parmesan with a side of spaghetti. And no, I don’t yet totally understand it either.

The day started off innocently enough. After a few hours of running around town doing vacationy things, the 6 of us were gathered in our mountain-top cabin discussing dinner plans. A couple people suggested an Italian restaurant in downtown Gatlinburg that supposedly had some of the best cuisine of its kind. They said things like:

You won’t believe the rolls! Their sauce is amazing! People rave about their pizzas, too! Oh, and they serve beer!

Pump the brakes. They are in possession of cold beer?!? (This is when I should admit that by the time they finished that last sentence, I was already in the car waiting. And possibly honking the horn. And possibly missing any other details about the restaurant they may have been sharing.) So what? I like beer. I’m sure I’ll cover this issue in more detail in later posts, but suffice it to say right now, at that particular point of our vacation I had not yet been afforded the opportunity to imbibe, and I was ready. I mean, it’s VACATION, y’all. ‘Nuff said.

So, we round up the caravan and began making our way down the mountain, en route to the beer Italian restaurant. We got lucky with a close parking spot (score!) and our relatively large group was sat right away. No waiting! In almost record time, we had our dinners ordered, garlic rolls on the table and I had a beer in front of me. The salads were served promptly and our jovial group was talking and laughing and discussing tomorrow’s plans as we noshed with content. By dining standards, this was shaping up to be a most magical evening. But for one diner (me), the evening would take a sudden turn. My jovial self was about to turn into a juggernaut of confusing, senseless anger – set in motion by this simple phrase:

Who ordered the chicken parmesan?

At the moment I hoisted my hand to identify myself, everything was still peachy-keen. But then it happened. The totally-innocent-of-any-wrong-doing waitress set my order in front of me. And I looked at it. That’s when it all went bad, folks. The wolf had tore itself from my body and was now tromping recklessly across the table. What ignited her fury? What was so damn terrible to provoke such madness? The answer is simple albeit baffling. The source of my instantaneous resentment – portion size.

I kinda looked like this…

You heard me right. This entirely too dramatic episode that sent a pacifist into a tailspin was centered around my fervent belief that the restaurant brought me WAY TOO MUCH FOOD! The audacity!!!

I regret not taking a picture of it to offer as evidence here, but my mental state at that instant wouldn’t allow for anything to interrupt the moment I was having. But in my defense, let me attempt to explain.

IT kinda looked like this.

The dish was approximately 12×9 inches. (Isn’t that the size a fucking serving platter should be???) My meal, which was the standard chicken served over a bed of spaghetti covered in sauce, was heaped to such an obscene extent that it was literally spilling over the edges of the platter plate. This made cutting into my chicken a nearly impossible task, as it would ultimately just lead to even more of my meal gushing onto the table. I tried alleviating some of the pressure my inadequate dish was feeling by swirling up some spaghetti noodles to eat, but with each twist of my fork, the irritation churned louder within my body. This was freaking ridiculous.

Naively, I thought I was masking my disgust with a commendable level of success. After all, the whole group was served their meal at the same time I was, and they were surely distracted by their own eating rituals. But not two minutes in, the question finally came:

Hey Whit, is something wrong with your food?

I think someone else chimed in with the comment, “Yeah, you don’t look too happy.” It was then I noticed my lips had been tightly pressed into a grimace and I could feel the tension of my furrowed brows. I took a deep breath, relaxed my faced and in a surrendering tone uttered,

This is just way too damn much!

And that’s when I hobbled grumpily onto my soapbox and started muttering phrases like:

  • What were they thinking?!?
  • Who could possibly ever eat this much?
  • Think about how much food they must throw out!
  • Every time I take a bite, two more regenerate in its place! It’s multiplying, I swear!
  • This is what’s wrong with American Society today!
  • Someone call Michelle Obama – SHE’LL UNDERSTAND ME!!

I felt a mix of both passionate and pathetic. I felt threatened. I was being crushed under the weight of too much food as the images of every single bloated belly starving child flashed in my vision. I felt like no one understood why this was such a deplorable situation, least of all me. I was looking for answers and possibly an apology from the universe. My family must have seen the crazed look in my eyes, because they quickly took to comforting me, using arguments such as:

  • It’s okay. Just eat what you want and leave the rest.
  • Think of all the tasty leftovers you’ll have!
  • I’d much rather get too much for my money than too little.
  • At least you won’t leave hungry!
  • Would you like a refill on your beer?

What it kinda looked like from my perspective…

And just like that, the storm had passed. The waitress plopped down a second frosty mug of golden goodness as I gently coerced my wolf back into her cage. I was still frustrated. I remained steadfast in my beliefs. And that plate of pasta was still sitting in front of me, mocking and intimidating. But the worst was over. I could feel it. My family had rescued me from the pits of despair just in the nick of time; just before I could shake my fists at restaurant staff or stand on a chair to rally the other patrons to my side with an epic speech. Crisis kinda averted. I mean, that’s what family is for, right? They look out for you, and they know better than most how to comfort you during times of distress. Don’t get me wrong; I hated their comments. Their rebuttals had zero substance. But they offered me beer, and that’s proof enough they really get me. It’s proof of love.

Family knows how to pull you from your bad place.

In hindsight, I still don’t quite grasp the real reason for the meltdown. But I was there, and it was real. Some silly spaghetti noodles tried wholeheartedly to take me down. Where were you the Friday of May 16th, 2014, the day of the “Chicken Parmesan and Spaghetti Noodle Crisis”? Hopefully, you were somewhere safe. Somewhere the protein on your plate was the size of your fist, as it should be. Hopefully not at the table next to us. Hopefully.

Keep calm and eat on.

 

unTrue Hollywood Story – Beavis Edition

If you’re a product of the 80’s or a fan of crass, simpleton humor paired with mediocre animation, then like me you catch yourself at times pondering the fate of former MTV star – Beavis. His stint as a title character in the popular 90’s sitcom, “Beavis and Butt-Head”, brought him into the homes of American families for 4 entertaining and thought-provoking seasons. But, since his days in the limelight as a child actor, little is known about the thespian we grew to love. Until now.

Our research team got to work on uncovering the details of the actor’s life, both personal and professional, and began piecing together his sorted biography. After 97 minutes of intense, grueling internet searches, and absolutely zero fact-checking or witness interviews, the crew hit pay dirt. Beavis was alive and well…and working. But the road to his Hollywood redemption would not be without potholes. Instead, we found his path to reclaiming stardom littered with struggle and one very shocking twist.

His story picks up where many of us last saw him, working alongside childhood friend, Butt-Head, on what would be one of television’s first unscripted dramas. Discovered by Mike Judge, the two were pitched by tv execs to be filmed in their home by cameramen, having their lives documented for the entire world to see.

Blinded by potential fame and dollar signs, the two agreed to the terms and filming began in March of 1993. Initially, it was an ideal underdog story. Two teenage boys, destined to flunk high school and with no realistic plans to support themselves long-term, suddenly becoming household names with disposable income. But, as many of us know, a sudden transition from rags to riches can takes its toll, and Beavis and Butt-Head were no exception to this cliche.

By the time the show reached its fourth season, tension on set was rising and a noticeable rift was forming between the boys. Citing creative differences, Beavis opted not to renegotiate his contract for a fifth season and “Beavis and Butt-Head” was off the air.

Behind the scenes footage, January 1997. Photo courtesy TMZ.

Butt-Head has referenced the split in later interviews, hinting that he believed Beavis was experiencing some sort of psychotic break, most probably triggered by the temptations associated with fame and the pressures of constant media scrutiny. “He kept demanding more money. A ridiculous amount. He said it was so he could buy more TP for his bunghole. But we all knew that wasn’t where the money was going.” It was also rumored that Beavis’s obsession for fire and his insistence on creating more screen time for his alter-ego, Cornholio, led to several heated off-camera arguments and an eventual melt-down.

After leaving the series, Beavis auditioned for a variety of television shows and movies, to no avail. Each rejection chipped away at the actor’s pride. But with serious debt looming, he finally succumb to a break from the industry, taking on a series of odd jobs. Unfortunately, due to a lack of high school education, self-discipline or any type of truly marketable skills, each job ended abruptly.

In October of 2011, Judge made a proposal to bring back the show, to which a desperate Beavis agreed. However, it was clear old demons still haunted the former celebrity, and filming was terminated after only three months. With no money and no real prospects, things were looking grim for Beavis. But his impending demise would ultimately prove to be the catalyst for his dramatic redemption.

This just isn’t working.

It was at this point he realized, if people were no longer interested in seeing Beavis, then maybe he would have to become someone else. After all, he had created an alter-ego before. Did his experiment with the character Cornholio teach him nothing? He knew the answer. To find his way back into the business, he must reinvent himself. And reinvent himself he did. The actor changed his name, changed his wardrobe and began taking acting classes. With his freshly created identity and renewed focus, he set out once again on auditions. Only this time, he would eventually land the role of a lifetime.

By the end of 2011, Beavis, now known as Jere Burns, (note the reference to fire in his new moniker), had been cast in a recurring role as Wynn Duffy on acclaimed FX original series, Justified.

Wynning!

Though we may still see traces of the Beavis we once loved through his blonde locks and signature eyebrows, it is clear the actor has adapted an entirely new style. He’s on the top of his acting game and managed to bring to life a character so many of us love to hate every week. It’s a Hollywood transformation so many have attempted, but so few have achieved.

What’s next for Beavis, aka: Jere Burns? I suppose we’ll have to wait and find out. But what we do know is, the sky is truly the limit. With his ability to recreate his persona and keep us guessing, there’s most likely nothing this man can’t do. As for now, it appears as though he’ll continue to bring us weekly thrills as Wynn Duffy, while spending his off-seasons vacationing in Lake Titicaca. Once that gig comes to an end, we can only hope he finds his way back to our screens in yet another visionary role.

Vacationing in Lake Titicaca, summer of 2012.

As for a future reunion with Butt-Head, things aren’t looking optimistic. Although, we do have an insider who has reported seeing him on the set of Justified with Beavis/Burns, trying out a variety of parts. Maybe there’s still hope, but only time will tell.

Huh-heh-he-he-uh. Like the new hair, Butt-Head.