Meg Myers is a fucked up bitch and I love every second

In eleventh grade when I wrote for my high school newspaper I got screwed into writing an article about our Battle of the Bands. I had serious interests in being a music journalist which were largely fueled by the movie Almost Famous and Sarah Lewitinn. This was not how I intended to pursue those interests. Unfolding almost exactly as I pictured it would, I described a completely uninspired high school band as metal. I really wanted to describe them as nu metal, but I was trying to be kind. The morning the papers were delivered, I got approached by this “band’s” “frontman” in fourth period Russian History and informed, in the most indignant tone possible, that they were not metal, but in fact proto-punk-seventh-wave-prog-rock.

From this second on, I have never wanted to be a music journalist. I figured if high school bands were this big of assholes, any musician that ever received a shred of positive reinforcement must be a fucking nightmare. The genuinely famous and/or talented seem to (confusingly) be nicer and less delusional, but God knows you’re going to be dealing with this Satanic middle group most of the time.

So that’s why I hate writing about music.


Last night in my continued Buzzfeed Video YouTube binge, I got recommended this music video. I almost never click on recommended music, because it is almost always a thirteen year old girl singing country music with heavy Christian imagery, and I WILL NOT BE TRICKED AGAIN THIRTEEN YEAR OLD GIRLS, but this drew me in:

Holy shit I am fucking in love with this girl. She instantly reminded me of music’s power to creep you the fuck out. I felt like I was a teenager watching the music videos Chris Cunningham directed for Aphex Twin, or the screeching descent into chaos that is Veruca Salt’s Shimmer Like a Girl, with a dash of Jamie Lee Curtis’s weird, sexualized virgin in Halloween. I had forgotten how much I missed that feeling.

I can’t help but think this is what all those black-lipstick, upside down cross loving, pseudo-junkie teens are going for, but Meg Myers actually delivers. With music. In a pair of sneakers.

The Try Guys

I know These Buzzfeed videos are super funny sounds dubious as fuck, but I managed to watch all five videos in the series for The Try Guys last night and then pillage the related videos. It’s essentially the same concept as all there X try Y videos, but with a consistent group of guys who are all adorably enthusiastic about trying new, semi-humiliating things.



European Swimwear:

Recreating Kim Kardashian’s Greasy Paper Magazine Ass Photo:

Sexy Halloween Costumes:

Ladies Underwear:

Every thought about monkeys I have ever had

Oh my God, so I’ve been obsessed with Boo the Monkey for some time now, but some stress/shitty weather-induced anxiety has made the presence of a monkey very necessary.

I’m very against owning monkeys. I watched a documentary called “My Child is a Monkey” that was incredibly scarring. Basically this horrible stereotype of an obese American family was raising a monkey as a surrogate child and kept feeding it pasta and Caesar salad until it got diabetes, which still wasn’t enough to wake them from their horrible, horrible delusions and Fat American-ness as they slowly killed their pet with the contents of an Olive Garden buffet.

The other woman profiled in the documentary I recognized from a prior emotionally scarring journalistic exploration of therapy pets that aired on Animal Planet about 15 years ago. This woman was suffering from severe… lip burns. From tanning. Outdoors. In the sun. The phrase I just burned my lips really bad has been haunting me for over a decade. She felt her condition warranted the use of a helper monkey, monkeys that are usually trained to treat people who are quadripelegic. I vividly remember her describing her total despair over her perceived immobility and how the monkey would come and push a bendy straw to her face so she could take sips of water.

Imagine if Deven Green’s character in “Welcome to my House” bought a monkey. It was kind of like that.

Anyways this woman has now spearheaded the monkey child movement and is teacher others how to declaw and defang their monkeys and diaper them and dress them in toddler clothes. Apparently there’s going to be some monkey public breastfeeding debate coming to your town soon if they don’t kill them all with never-ending pasta bowls first.

For the record, Monkey Boo seems very sweet and well taken care of and I haven’t seen him in people clothes or eating pasta even once.

But holy shit, this was the thing I actually wanted to share. My in depth zoological research led me to the most incredible article I have read in a long time.

Apparently Yale led a research experiment to determine whether a group of capuchin monkeys could be taught the concept of currency. Over a series of months the monkeys were given silver coins and shown they could be exchanged for a grapes (lower cost but less appealing) or cubes of Jello (higher cost but more appealing.) Once the concept of currency was established, they then ran experiments testing the groups altruism (whether they would hit a lever releasing a treat to their partner, knowing they would not necessarily receive a treat in kind,) their response to the concept of gambling (both betting in order to gain something, and betting in order not to lose something,) and their response to market shocks (increasing the cost of treats, or artificially creating a shortage.)

The monkeys made relatively the same choices as humans would, at relatively the same rates (so if offered a similar gambling opportunity, roughly 40% of both monkeys and humans would accept, and on average would also bet on the same outcome.)

But that isn’t even the crazy part. The monkeys also demonstrated two behaviors after being taught the concept of currency (and the ability to attain wealth) that the researchers weren’t prepared for.

1. Those bitches stole.

Not on a basic snatch and grab level that I’m sure is pretty common in the animal kingdom, but in an orchestrated robbery. Apparently the monkeys lived in an enclosed habitat with a door at one end that could be used to usher them into a smaller enclosure for conducting tests. One day a monkey went rogue and waited for the door to be opened for testing time, bolted into the other room, grabbed a tray of coins and flung them through the still open door, then ran back into the habitat to feverishly pick everything up before the other monkeys could.

2. They went on the ho stroll

One of the researchers witnessed a male monkey giving a female monkey a coin in exchange for sex. He basically tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but damned if that female monkey didn’t go buy a grape as soon as the act was over. The monkeys had to be more closely policed afterwards, for fear it would reflect poorly upon Yale it looked like they were running a monkey brothel. Tell me that’s not the aspect of animal behavior you would be way more interested in. I mean would others participate? Would the more attractive monkeys charge more? What about the males? Would anyone go gay-for-pay? I have so many questions about a monkey hooker economy. It would reveal so much about our own world.

Tell me that doesn’t give you more respect for animals. That study is more persuasive than any PETA campaign.

Monkey article: “Monkey Business” New York Times, June 5, 2005

Thanksgiving Weekend Recap

Oh my Godddd. Everything has been breaking. My laptop battery died. The stove broke at 2PM on Thanksgiving. The power steering and both front axles broke on my Mom’s car, then a headlight burned out less than 24 hours after she got it back from the autobody shop. My unattractive-but-sturdy circa-2007 Canon PowerShot jammed its own lens for what is apparently the last time. My sister’s laptop exploded. My cell phone continues its slow flail towards death. My guitar is bowing.

Beside the fact we had to cook everything in a toaster oven/on the stove top/with a crock pot, Thanksgiving was nice. I love the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I love a parade I don’t have to stand outside to watch, but I feel like the parade is the last two hours you can breathe before the holiday season. By mid-morning you’ve started a month long cycle of cooking, cleaning, shopping, struggling to get into the holiday spirit, weight gain, suppressing the urge to assault your family members, more shopping, guilt, anxiety, mall parking lots, fury, panic, sleeplessness, debt, seasonal affective disorder, abruptly resurfacing family tensions, gift wrapping and feelings of inadequacy. That is why I need the parade. Every year I watch the first hour from the comfort of my bed, then I watch the second hour on the couch, in sweatpants, drinking black coffee while no one talks to me. And I love it.

I love the dog show too, despite being against everything the dog show represents. I loosen my morals for the holiday season because it’s the only way to not have an aneurysm. I would listen to the dog show’s podcast. I just want Mr. Peterman and that other guy educating me about bichons and exchanging soft-toned haughty dog banter for six straight hours. It’s so soothing. However, I’m convinced there is an anti-conventionally attractive (?) dog conspiracy. They’ve employed a reverse human pageant qualification system. Every year since I’ve been around ten I wait for my long haired chihuahua, or a pomeranian or a yorkie, or something fluffy with a teddy bear head and big eyes, and it never happens. The only winner I would have ever adopted was Banana Joe the affenpinscher from a couple years back, but that’s because he had a busted monkey face and I love an ugly little Ewok.

Dinner was quiet and nice even though my sister decided to use bringing up what we are thankful for as an opportunity to express her excitement at the recent downfall of Lena Dunham.

As an aside, I am not a cook but my one holiday cooking tip would be shove bourbon in it. You seriously cannot go wrong with bourbon. Is there anything that tastes or smells better than bourbon? No. I often think about the possibility of a liquor-based perfume, and am so sad the influx of fraudulent DUIs it would cause will never allow it to happen. Bourbon. I used this Bon Appetit recipe and fucked it up by not putting in enough maple syrup and had to pull it from the oven and feverishly start scooping filling out and re-mixing it and scooping it back in and it turned out fine, because MAPLE AND BOURBON.

I watched Comedy Central’s All Star Non-Denominational Holiday Special alone while drinking an entire bottle of sparkling cider (???) and it was lovely.

Other than that my family just watched a bunch of Netflix. We watched Three Stars which was about chefs/restaurateurs working under the Michelin system, which was “meh” as expected. It turns out that the key to getting your third star is no one knows what the fuck the qualifications for receiving your third star are. I thought most if not all of the chefs had interesting personalities and philosophies toward food, but there just wasn’t much to explore that I didn’t already assume. Some of the chefs embraced the system more than others (usually the ones with three stars, no surprise there) a couple outright rejected it, there was some discussion of bias and rigging in an attempt to win over new markets (Asia) and everyone agreed the expectations placed on restaurants with stars, or that hoped to receive stars, was intense to say the least.

The real winner was Tucker and Dale vs. Evil though. It was truly adorable and my whole family liked it, which is rare. The concept makes you want to kick yourself for not thinking of it, two hicks and a truckload of hot college students are vacationing in the same creepy backwater town, only the hicks are portrayed as intelligent, empathetic and tolerant while the college students are hysterical, judgmental, and vengeful. I’ve been meaning to watch it for years because Tyler Labine, who I’ve had a crush on since Breaker High, plays Dale, and Katrina Bowden, who in my opinion goes under-appreciated as Cerie from 30 Rock is the female lead. Not a defining criteria, but, you know, just throwing it out there, I also found the actor who plays Tucker incredibly attractive.

Apparently they’ve recently announced plans to make a sequel, so there’s another reason to get your shit together.