aliceinpostmodernland

[aliceinpostmodernland]

INTRODUCING: THE PRISONER’S TROLLEY PROBLEMMA

A trolley full of your loved ones is heading down the tracks and will hit another loved one. If you redirect it, it will hit three strangers, but all of your loved ones will be fine. However, there is another person on the other side of the tracks facing the same problem. If you both choose to redirect the trolleys, they will crash in the middle, killing almost everyone. 

The least amount of people will die if you do nothing and allow a loved one to die, the best-case scenario for you will occur if you pull your lever and the other person does not pull theirs, and the worst-case scenario will occur if you both pull your levers.

What do you do???

[aliceinpostmodernland]

EULOGY FOR AMERICA

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to say our goodbyes to our dear friend America, who died recently after a brief, intense battle with fascism and a long, slow battle with carbs. Thank you all for coming out to help say farewell. It’s not easy. But at least America died doing what it loved most: deep-frying Halloween candy while white men tried to explain to women what jazz is.

America was sick for a really long time. In the early stages, I think we were all in denial. You could tell that America was unwell—public displays of brutality, deeply internalized prejudice, “Entourage”—but it seemed curable. Just a case of plain old electile dysfunction. We thought that we’d caught the fascism early, but, as we now know, it had metastasized. America was more Florida than country by the end.

America was born right here, in America, and lived here its entire life. America was always about family. It is survived by its similarly ill father, Britain, and its large brood of children: baseball, Google, fireworks, losing your fingers to fireworks, giving your Uber driver only four stars because he talked to you, thinking granola is healthy, Chicago (the place), “Chicago” (the musical), “Chicago” (the movie adaptation of the musical), Chicago (the band), “Chicago Fire,” “Chicago Med,” “Chicago P.D.,” “Chicago Justice,” “Chicago ‘Chicago’ ” (a show about the Chicago production of the musical “Chicago,” coming to NBC this fall), and a bunch of wars.

I’d personally be nowhere without America. America was there when I was born, when I got married, when I saw Janet Jackson’s nipple at the Super Bowl. Remember that? After that happened, none of us slept for days, because we had never seen the pointy part of a boob on our TVs before, and it really upset us. America was really cool that way. It would always get mad when you’d see the pointy part of a boob on a TV. I’m gonna miss that.

However, we should not dwell on the loss of our dear country, friend, and place where all the Cheesecake Factories and Lids stores are. Today, let’s celebrate America’s life, and remember all of the remarkable things it accomplished and how many actors playing Spider-Man who keep getting cuter and younger were inside of it. America gave us so much. And, boy, did it look good for its age. America was two hundred and forty-one years old when it died, but it didn’t look a day over a hundred and sixty-four! It looked so young, it could’ve been the very same America that put its own citizens in internment camps!

America got a bunch of things really right. Mostly how to put food inside other food. Anyone can just eat a chicken. But in a duck?! In a turkey?! In a gun?! No one is going to forget the Turduckenun any time soon. America was so inventive that way. And, I mean, everyone does silly stuff when they’re young. America was beautiful, too. Sure, it was a little lumpy, and you could always see its Florida through its pants, but it just got hotter with age. So hot. It was so, so hot by the time it died. Almost too hot to live in.

If there’s anything we should take away from this tragedy, it’s that you should always check yourself for fascism, especially around your midsection. It’s easy enough to do in the shower. If you catch it early, it can be cleared up with a rigorous regimen of local elections and books and yoga. But America was cocky. Nothing bad had ever happened to it before! It assumed this fascism would pass, just like the Second World War and “Entourage” had.

What a shame. America was just the best damn country in the whole U.S.A. I’m sorry that I’m getting choked up. I get really emotional when I think of America, and also I took too big of a bite of Turduckenun and it got lodged in my windpipe. We will all miss America greatly. Every time I see an American flag or a gun, I’ll think of America. But we can all rest easy knowing America is in a better place now: Russia.

[aliceinpostmodernland]

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY BABY'S GENDER REVEAL PARTY!

Thank you for coming to my baby’s gender reveal party! I can’t wait to share the precious moment when I find out whether this bundle of joy I’m carrying is a little ballerina or a little truck driver. I am just so excited to talk about my future child’s genitalia with 30 of my closest friends and acquaintances! You know me and my hubs Andy. We’re obsessed with being extra and we’re never going to settle for just an ordinary gender reveal party. We’ve had a cake prepared that’s either pink or blue, based on whether our child is a Little Man or a Little Miss. First, I will cut into the cake and show a slice. If it’s a Boy, the cake will be blue, because blue is Boy! Blue is color of Boy things, like the sky, which is where the Air Force lives. Pink is color of girl, because girl things like flowers and laundry mistake. We’re not stopping there. After the cake, Andy is going to use a crossbow to shoot 12 wild rabbits that he bought at a store where you get food for large snakes. Each guest will then take one of the dying rabbits into her hands and look under the tail. If the dead rabbit is (was) a girl, our baby will be a little fashionista. If the rabbit has a little penis? Our lovebug will grow up to be a doctor or other type of Man! This is a party for adults, so feel free to get a little naughty. There’s nothing that makes me feel like making fun dirty jokes then thinking about my unborn child’s Boy or Girl pubic mound! We’re going to play a twist on “pin the tail on the donkey,” and you’ll either stick penises or vaginas on a picture of my ultrasound. We’ll be using glue that’s made from either Boy or Girl racehorses. This grown-up game will be made even more fun by the fact that we will be eating gourmet ice cream cones that are either flavored like Boy (scotch with a fun spicy touch of hot sauce) or Girl (nothing). Can’t wait to meet our Little Heartbreaker or our Little Slut! I never knew this before getting preggo, but there are a lot of rules for Girl or Boy! There are many things that are Boy. Boy is Blue, dog, numbers, fireman (even though fireman Red, it is Boy), hair (coarse), shape of ball like soccer ball, bricks, glass, buildings, car, sharp. Girl is Pink, cat, hair (soft), shape of square like purse, skin, boat, dry. I know it’s a lot to remember but look, I don’t make the rules! (The person that make the rules is Boy.) Andy and I love our traditional gender roles. He makes the money and cuts down the trees because Boy, and I am House for baby. Andy loves to make me eat vitamins so the House will be nice for Baby. Each vitamin is like a gift I give my baby’s House! I can’t wait to see what job my baby have. If Boy, maybe Racecar Scientist, Ambulance Lifter, or Priest Batman. If Girl, only job option is House or Lesbian. Even I don’t know what our baby is! When ultrasound technician which was weirdly Girl told Andy what gender our baby was, I told him I didn’t want to know. Andy was able to keep a stoic face when Girl Technician told him Boy or Other One! He was completely deadpan except for one tiny body language thing, where his mouth said “now our baby can’t be Blacksmith.” Andy is so good at keeping surprises! I hope our little bundle of joy looks just like him when grows up to be Ice Fisherman Man. Thank you all for sharing this day with us. I can’t wait to start this family with my sweet Andy. We will be the perfect Dad and House. But just remember: I will love my baby no matter what, whether it decides to be Lumberjack Surgeon or just normal Umbrella Girl On Salt Container. In the end, it does not matter! Whether Boy or Girl, my baby can do anything, like wear a pant or do computer. After all, Boy or Girl, my baby still White.

[aliceinpostmodernland]

SELF-CARE FOR MEN

‘Sup, bros!! Many normal people and doctors think that men and women need the same type of products for self-care, but those people are stupid idiots. Self-care isn’t just for women anymore: it’s for firemen, X-Games medalists, and Civil War reenactors just like you. Here are some brands you men can use to feel strong, healthy and masculine! OUTSIDE BLOOD (MAKEUP): This ain’t your average, dainty lady-paint. Men and women have completely different needs in the skin department. While a woman’s skin is soft like a dying flower and barely strong enough to keep the blood in, a man’s skin is thick like the door to a safe. We men need makeup that covers our hungry-boy blemishes and larger-than-average pores. There’s a reason they call those sewer things “manhole covers”! Because they’re thick like a man, and big enough to cover a man’s holes, or “pores”! Outside Blood foundation comes in three hearty shades: “Dwayne 'The Rock’ Johnson,” “Rocket Raccoon,” and “dookie.” The bottle is shaped like a little pig – to use it, just smash the piglet into its special trough. You’ll feel like a cool big man at a slaughterhouse, just like your dad! Smear it on with the special brush that’s shaped like Babe Ruth’s catcher’s mitt. We also sell man-eye shadow to make everyone think you were recently in a fight because someone tried to kiss your woman or motorcycle. While female makeup is thin and runny, Outside Blood is the consistency of the chicken goo that McDonald’s uses to make McNuggets. Strong enough for a man – also it is made for one! A man, that is! * MAN PEDI (NAIL CARE): Mails (man nails) are the most important part of a man’s body, since they protect his fingers which are used to flip the bird and rock-and-roll-style wail on the guitar. A woman’s nails are soft like a wet lasagna and flap in the breeze like a partially-licked stamp (this is due to their estrogen), but a man’s nails are so heavy that he has to be careful when swimming that he doesn’t sink to the bottom of the pool. That’s why you need nail care specially designed for you. We file down your precious tips using sandpaper from a wood shop that was used to make the long tables on Game of Thrones. Then we paint them whatever color you want. Red, like a cool bird you just shot? Crimson, like the blood of your ex-wife or female teacher who was mean to you? Black, like a charcoal in a BBQ that your dad was using when he said he loved you for the last time? Yeah, any manly color like that! * THANOS STONES (VITAMINS): Men and women have completely different needs when it comes to vitamins. Women need a lot of iron, since they get periods and lose so much blood. Men, on the other hand, are often fighting and brawling, so they need iron, since they lose so much blood. These men’s-only vitamins are packed full of the nutrients the male body craves: A, C, D, B12. Many men are deficient in Vitamin D, since instead of spending time in the sun, they’re spending time in a tank or a race car. Also comes with 400% your daily dose of Vitamin C, so you can spend less time getting sick and more time getting drafted! * SHARK PISS (WATER): Men and women have completely different needs when it comes to water. While women can coast by on a simple H2O formula, men need at least twice the amount on oxygen, since they’re usually expelling air or “farts” out of their big ol butts. They also need more hydrogen – a man’s body metabolizes hydrogen like a hydrogen bomb, allowing a man’s legs to explode into a jog or, in the case of a funeral, a staid skip. We’ve doubled the amount of oxygen in our brew and quadrupled the amount of hydrogen. Plus, our Shark Piss is twice as clear as normal water, so you can watch your favorite episode of Deadwood or a monster truck rally through it. Don’t stop doing what you man-love just because you have to drink your Piss! * MONSTER ENERGY INFUSION (CHEMO): Men get cancer like no other. If you have a hardcore dude tumor like prostate 'cer, you can’t settle for any wimpy ol’ IV infusion. Monster Energy Infusion pairs your classic chemotherapy drugs Leuprorelin and Abiraterone with Taurine and a ton of green food coloring so that when it goes into your IV you can pretend you’re Bane. Happy dripping, boys! * T-HIM-APY (THERAPY): You know how sometimes you think about your dad or your son Carter and feel like your chest is tight and you might cry? Those are brain-dookies, or “feelings,” piling up in your chest-testicle, or “heart”! You let enough brain-deuces pile up in your thoracic scrote and all of a sudden, you got shark piss streaming from your eyes! Thimapy pairs you with another burly man for you to get in a big wrestling fight with, but with your words instead of fists. Punch your thimapist over and over with your son-based word-fists until your eyes are all shark-pissed out! * MATRI-BRO-NY (MARRIAGE): Like anyone, you want to find someone special you can live your whole life with. But unlike women, you don’t want just anyone! You want someone who respects you for who you are, who is attracted to your body but also your mind. Someone who is both your lover and your best friend. That’s why we’ve created marriage just for men. Instead of marrying a woman like Tracey, who won’t get you at all, here’s a way for you marry your real best friend: a man! It’s just like marriage, except with two men! Show your bros you are dedicated to your male lifestyle once and for all: marry a man and spend the rest of your life with him.

[aliceinpostmodernland]

i just heard my mum say ‘you are very naughty’ and then a meow and then another softer ‘okay but next time there will be consequences’ and then another meow and then a ‘you’re right probably not’ 

[aliceinpostmodernland]

“They say dress for the job you want, so I’ve been putting on this tie five days a week for the past few months. I don’t know what kind of job I want yet, but I know I’d like for it to require a tie. And maybe a briefcase.”

- Gogo

[aliceinpostmodernland]

I want a story about an Italian vampire.

No romance, no action.

Just 200 pages of “What do you mean, I can’t have garlic? Do you know where I’m from?”

[aliceinpostmodernland]

[aliceinpostmodernland]

[aliceinpostmodernland]

Every book in the History of Literature summed up in a single sentence

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[aliceinpostmodernland]

[aliceinpostmodernland]

A Short List of Shenanigans My Parent’s Dog Has Engaged In:

This is Arwen, she’s a Husky/Kelpie mix and a little Asshole:

“I wonder if she can jump?” my dad asks the first five minutes we have her.  She perks up at the word, and clears a six-foot fence form sitting on the ground. “Oh.”  Says dad. “Shit.” Later that night she got up on the counter and ate three pounds of corned beef in roughtly 68 seconds but this was considered part of the learning curve of having a new dog.

I wake up at 4 AM to the sound of the toilet being flushed repeatedly in the hall bathroom, and assume plumbing is now posessed by angry and wasteful ghosts.   I get up to disconnet it and find her in the Bathroom, standing to flush the bowl, then shoving her head in to drink the running water.   I’m not totally awake, so I stand there like an idiot trying to understand this, and my sister gets up to see what the noise is, sees the same thing and also stands there.  Fiance notices my absence and does the same.   Mom eventually wakes up and finds us standing around like very confused zombies and almost joins the parade of baffled zombies before shreiking “THE WATER BILL!” We got her a circulating water bowl after that.

My parent’s don’t have AC, but they haveone of those “fridge on top, pull-out-freezer below” fridges.  Last summer, we were remarking that we might need to shave her so she didn’t get heatstroke, to which she looked up and made a disgusted noise at us. …Then got up, used the dishrag to pull open the freezer and climbed on top of the frozen vegetables, stretching out and sighing contentedly.  “Arwen,” Mom began, but was interrupted by a loud ‘WHAAAaaaaarrr?” from Arwen.  “Ok you can stay there for now but we’re getting you a kiddie pool so you have to get out when we get back.  Don’t eat anything.” She ate a bag of frozen green beans and farted for three days straight.

Took her walking along the lake with the long lead so she could sniff things to her hearts content.  She went about shoving her head in the undergrowth, usually coming up with her head covered in leaves and pollen. Except for the bush where she came back out with a 7-foot Bull Snake wrapping itself around her ehad and neck, trying it’s best to strangle her before she can eat it.   She immediately ran back to me, the parts of her face not occupied with the snake arranged in a gleeful expression of “Look!  I found Snacks!” I screamed, not immediately regognizing that it wasn’t a rattler, and fell, splitting my knee on a rock.  The screaming made her let go of the snake, but I still had to grab her and wrestle the snake off her because it lacked the sense to just scuttle away.  I finaly got it lose from her (Despite her best effort to continue trying to eat it and turned around to fling it off the trail-  -And directly into the face of one of my 90-year-old neighbors who’d come out to see what the screaming and profanity was, making her collapse. I’m pretty sure being told “I accidentally threw a snake at my neighbor.” was the highlight of that EMT’s day.  Dottie was unharmed but she still doesn’t speak to me.

One day, we left her in a Harness and overhead tether in the (at the time) unfanced back yard so she could enjoy some relatively free-range outdoors time.  I walked by the window not a minute later to find her completely GONE, and race out to the yard to find her.  It took me a good heart-pounding five minutes to realize the overhead tether was goign UP into the ancient silver maple and realized that  1. Arwen can apparently do something really weird with her shoulders where they pop out sideways, allowing her to bear-hug the tree and  2. climb a good 40 feet into the three to fight 3. A porcupine, which i didn’t even know LIVED out here. Fortunately, Porcupines weigh considerably less than Awen and she couldn’t get a good enough foothold to get all the way up to it, but I still had to climb up there and lower her down, barking dog profanities at the porcupine the whole way.

My parents recently acquired a mechanized recliner which has been instumental inmom’s hip surgery recovery.  Execpt that Awen Also likes lounging on the furniture, and is more than capable of hitting a large, elder-friendly button with her paw.  So now when she gets back from a walk or the dog park she makes a beeline for the living room, get in the recliner and pushes the button until it’s flat and stretches out in it.  My parents didn’t have a problem with this because she gets out of the chair when they ask her (Mom even tells her “Go get my chair ready” in winter because she does a good job pre-warming it), until last winter when Arwen taught my dog Charlie, another devoted couch animal how to do this. One afternoon there was a tremendous outburst fo barkign and snarling from the living room and we rished in to find both dogs in the recliner, Charlie on the fully-reclined back and Arwen on the elevated seat and foot rest, bellowing at eachother for control of the recliner, thier movments having pitched it back to it’s two hind feet, the device swaying to and fro like a leather covered boat upon the high seas, a furry mutiny on board.  Neither dog was willing to yeild the plush throne, nor to listen to the humans yelling at them to knock it the hell off, until Arwen tackled the usurper, kocking him off and managing to cantaleiver the recliner clean over, flipping it into the hall, both dogs and all humand miraculously unharmed. She still doesn’t let him sit in it.

I love her so much.

(If you got a laugh out of this, please consider donating to my Tip Jar or Paypal to get Arwen (and Charlie!) nice treats)

[aliceinpostmodernland]

i don’t mean to sound fake deep but the reason 2018 felt so long was because we’re being fed what’s trending at such a rapid rate that we literally can’t remember half of the shit that even happened anymore. “Black Panther came out in February!” Marvel releases so many movies a year that we completely forget about the last movie as soon as a new one comes out and it repeats in a vicious cycle. “Tide Pods/Ugandan Knuckles was in January!” The life span of memes have been rapidly declining for years and it’s gotten to the point where the average lifespan of a meme is about 2 weeks and then the next thing gets popular and then that lasts for 2 weeks and it just keeps going. We’re literally losing our sense of time because of our rapid consumption of media and pop culture.

[aliceinpostmodernland]

-,’ types of people ,’-

tea: old souls, loves nature, bookworms, kindness, gardening, believes in old folklore, amazed with the universe, tiny houses, wandering through forests

coffee: loud music, messy hair, denim jackets, dogs, summer nights, making promises, competitive, wants to change the world, free spirits, adventures

water: bright smiles, has faith in humanity, curiosity, staying up late, poetry, nostalgia, the smell of vanilla, mythology, vintage shirts, pretty handwriting

hot chocolate: oversized sweaters, winter, rosy cheeks, cold hands, movie nights, cozy homes, the mom friend, loves their friends more than anything

[aliceinpostmodernland]

Every year, the richest person in America is declared the “Winner of Capitalism.” They get a badge. Then all of their wealth is donated to charity and they have to start over at $0.

[aliceinpostmodernland]

hey fun fact bc I got cpr certified today for teaching. the whole “do chest compressions to staying alive” is outdated as it’s 100bpm and it has to be 120bpm. however u kno what u SHOULD do cpr to? the imperial march