schizophasic

Holy hiatus, Batman! A State of the Blog address

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sun, 16 Jul 2017 06:18:00 +0000

IT LIVES! For the two of you who might still think about this dumpster fire of a blog after four years of me being in absentia, you'll be glad to know I'm alive and well and gradually re-assimilating myself into the human world. I've also been wrestling for the past several years with a load of personal drama and epiphanies and major life issues and stuff.

At least I don't have to deal with wild 80's hair.

To make a long story short, since my Year In Review post died of neglect in late December 2013, I am not the same person I was when I started this blog. I mean I'm still a bitter snarky ass bitch with a flair for dark humor that is probably single-handedly responsible for my fantastic romantic failure with the dames, but I also have a newfound understanding of the many things that I've been doing wrong all these years.

Aside from learning that I'm probably wasting my time with any chick who thinks romantic comedies are actually funny, I've also figured out that my lack of discipline has held me back considerably. I was officially diagnosed with ADD at age 21, and while I know it is considered extremely suspect as far as being a legitimate medical condition, I refuse to use it as a convenient excuse to be completely helpless. I don't know why, but suddenly I want to know everything. I don't want to be one of those people who couldn't tell their ass from a hole in the ground without the help of an iPhone app. I want to learn everything. I want to know everything. Everything from the fact that olives are actually fruit to what to do when your refrigerator suddenly starts hemorrhaging water at 3 a.m. The ADD meds seem to be doing their job. Huzzah!

All of these things are enriching and useful in their own way, but what I want more than anything is to improve the skills I already have. I have been a writer for twenty five years, if you count the disturbing shit I wrote when I was 7 that would make a modern-day child psychologist foam at the mouth. I have always had this gift and nourished it for many years. But I've become a lazy bitch over the past few years in so many aspects of my life. I can't abide by this.

So allow me to bring you up to speed. I'm currently employed at a place I'll call Blackbeard's Fish and Chips, just in case any work-related posts take a turn for the untoward. I'm also working on a novel, one that will either become the next Harry Potter or fail miserably; only time will tell. I suspect I'll find some success with this little piece of work, however, what with the popularity of demon hunting stories, which is the main theme of my novel.

Replace hunky dudes with hillbilly lesbians and you have my story.

So we're mostly caught up on the current state of affairs. Also I got some new ink.

And that's all she wrote. I fully intend to keep this thing updated at least three times a week with fresh material. I will try my best to keep this thing up. It's good discipline for me, really. So stay tuned for more product reviews, stories, and randomness.

"Don't you want kids?" "No thanks, I just ate."

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 22:28:00 +0000

I just turned 31 years old. When I look back on my life thus far, "successful" and "fulfilled" are not words that jump readily to mind. Having slogged through my twenties suffering with undiagnosed, untreated mental illness, I waffled on many decisions that would affect the rest of my life and as a result I missed many opportunities. I realize that the window of time to rectify all this will close eventually, and I'm dealing with this to the best of my ability. But there is one major life decision with such a finite timeline that I made years ago with no second thoughts: not having kids.

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Y Kant Katt Read?

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sat, 26 Jan 2013 02:53:00 +0000

I am a writer, obviously. That is, if you can suspend disbelief for a minute and accept that the title also encompasses half-assed bloggers who only write when they have something to bitch about. And I have always thought I am a decent writer, when I actually apply myself. But the truth is, there are a lot of folks out there who would laugh me right out of cyberspace for even thinking something so ludicrous. Why? Because I don't like to read.


Burn them smart-ass books.

And now for something so scary you'll plotz...

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Wed, 31 Oct 2012 19:48:00 +0000

Happy Halloween Schizophiles! I had plans for a series of Halloween related posts, but I'm running a bit low on inspiration these days and might in fact take some time off to build up a backlog of material for those times my brain decides it's tired of doing the brain thing. In the meantime, check out the chilling and allegedly true tale of the ill-fated Dutch freighter Ourang Medan. If you're wondering what Grampa Simpson all dolled up in his Cabaret finest has to do with this, it turns out **SPOILER ALERT** they were having a Big Gay Party on board and so God had to smite their homersexual asses right off the face of the fucking planet. True facts. Ask the Westboro Baptist Church.

Bullying. Seriously?

noreply@blogger.com (Marcus) — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 21:16:00 +0000

When I was a boy in 2nd or 3rd grade, I came home from school one day and told my Dad that I was being bullied, he took me out back, tied my right hand to my belt loop, and came at me like a rabid honey badger. He didn't beat me up, just roughed me up a bit. He wasn't abusive, the majority of the tussle I had a smile on my face, and I vaguely remember giggling.

When the du

st settled and my scrapes and bruises stopped throbbing, my Dad came to me and said something to the effect of, "Let the bully try that shit now."

I went to school the next day and gave the bully an Indiana Jones-style haymaker, and I never took shit again. Parents weren't contacting parents, coalitions of worried soccer Moms weren't formed, CNN didn't have a roundtable discussion about the event. Playground justice is all that happened. Period.

If we don't let kids sort these things out on their own, we will soon be a nation of total uselessness. Pampering leads to young adults that aren't ready for the real world...ever. Hence the issues we increasingly face. Toughen your kids up by letting them figure some of it out on their own. - Marcus

Facebook Fuckery: Moral guilt fail edition

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Fri, 07 Sep 2012 17:14:00 +0000

Admit it. You stop for a minute when you see these things, taking the moment to assess how much you truly value the most important things in your life. You're presented with a conundrum: do you REALLY love your mom/cat/God/sandwich as much as you SAY you do? Well you have just been given the perfect test. If you "like", you're in the clear and probably won't go to hell, at least not for this particular thing. But if you just keep scrolling...well, you've clearly underestimated your love. You've been lying all this time, not only to yourself, but to your family, your pets, your Lord, and your lunch. You bastard.

I bet you're all kinds of pissed now. "But I love my mom/cat/God/sandwich," you say. "I do I do I dooooo...! This is just some stupid shit on Facebook posted by someone with not enough to do. Fuck this shit." I feel your pain, I do. But I also know you feel a weird little awkward twinge of guilt right now for scrolling, like the bastard you are. It's a sign of the times, and I don't like it any more than you do, I assure you. But the writing's on the wall: when you scroll, you might as well put laxatives in your Mom's tea, punch your cat in the face, piss on a Nativity scene...eh, I suppose you can eat the sandwich. But I should warn you, there's a pubic hair in there somewhere. You bastard.

New Sexual "True Blood" Advertising

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sun, 12 Aug 2012 17:53:00 +0000

I admit, I've only watched like two episodes of HBO's popular series True Blood, and I can honestly say I hate it. I understand a lot of the appeal is in the gratuitous sex, but still it made me feel dirty in ways I've never experienced before, and that's saying something. But I still had to appreciate this delightfully tongue-in-ass ad campaign for the series that shamelessly admits it is little more than souped up necro-porn. I'm honestly surprised that the neck holes aren't fully functional fuckable orifices, but it's not like I don't already have enough to talk about in therapy. But at least the blow-up doll is more attractive than the real Anna Paquin.

In the News: Blow job queen runs afoul of sharp things

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sun, 12 Aug 2012 00:16:00 +0000

Meet the 30-year-old Georgia woman who won herself a Darwin Award nomination trying to impress her equally dim-bulb friends with her purported deep-throat skills. Here's your stupid sign. Careful, it has sharp edges.

Products for Assholes

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Tue, 24 Jul 2012 01:40:00 +0000

I don't always try to go for a theme with my product reviews, you know, aside from the whole stupid/useless/WTF thing. But this one worked out pretty well, I must say. Yes...it...worked out well that we live in a society that is so obsessed with the human derriere and the various things that come out of it. And as so many enterprising types know, when the masses reach a consensus, there is almost always an opportunity for moneymaking.

The Five Greatest "To Catch a Predator" moments

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 01:46:00 +0000

I'll confess, I'm a huge fan of watching assholes get their comeuppance. As such, I'm also a huge fan of MSNBC'S "To Catch a Predator". For those not in the know, the show is a hidden camera expose of pedophiles attempting to solicit minors online and being caught in the act.

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No longer silent, but still deadly: The Sound Princess

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Thu, 21 Jun 2012 01:29:00 +0000

Anyone who's ever suffered a public restroom knows the anxiety one can experience there. Stall talkers, lack of toilet paper, and the dreaded 'person talking on their cell phone in the stall next to you and you think they're talking to you so you answer them until you realize they're on a cell phone' present a constant hazard and can make relieving oneself an anxiety-ridden task. But communal washrooms present a whole new source of terror for individuals suffering from a shy bladder.

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Scream scream scream: The 'Fuck You Comcast' commercial

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Tue, 19 Jun 2012 00:05:00 +0000

I know a lot of people dislike Comcast, one of the more onerous cable providers out there today. Most complaints involve sketchy service and incompetent customer service and the like which, as a former Comcast ~~victim~~ customer, I can attest are indeed persistent issues. Since I currently have like $33 in my bank account I'm going to stop before I meet the business end of the Class Action Libel Lawsuit dildo, but that won't stop me from complaining about something else. Specifically, this commercial for Comcast's Xfinity StreamPix.

Show us on the doll: Creepy, weird, and just plain disturbing dolls for children you completely and utterly hate

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sat, 02 Jun 2012 22:24:00 +0000

Dolls are considered by many to be one of an unholy trinity of unnecessarily disturbing things aimed toward children. Clowns and puppets typically take the number two and three spots (though some might argue that ventriloquist dummies deserve an honorable mention) but I'll save those two for another day. Today we are talking about dolls.

As anyone who has followed me on Facebook for any amount of time knows, I have a thing about dolls. Maybe the power of suggestion is particularly strong in this one, but I tend to agree with the many folks out there who find them creepy. Don't get me wrong; there are plenty of dolls out there that are perfectly adorable playthings and attractive, well-crafted collectibles. Nonetheless, it would seem a lot of folks out there in internet land agree there is something unsettling about humanoid objects that can't blink...always watching...watching you sleep...watching you in the can (assuming you keep dolls in the bathroom...you freak). Not cool. So in that spirit, today I would like to show you some dolls. Not just any dolls though...

Fucking Creepy Dolls From the Depths of HELL

Somewhere out there, a therapist is enjoying a new boat. And if I continue making things like the above GIF, mine will be as well.

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Gas Station Story

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sat, 26 May 2012 18:30:00 +0000

She was fond of a saying her father once used on her as a teenager, if only for the irony: "Only two types of people are out after midnight; cops and hookers. So until you have a badge, your ass will be in this house by 11:59." It was currently 12:17, but she needed cigarettes and the gas station was a block away.

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She went out through the bathroom window

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sat, 19 May 2012 01:51:00 +0000

Author's Note: The following story is true. Names have been changed to protect the dim-witted. Because if they were fucking stupid enough to lose their clothes then they almost certainly couldn't handle a day in court.

A few summers ago I lived near a little dive bar out in BFE southern Indiana. Those of you who have actually been here can easily picture what kind of place I'm talking about. At any rate it was the only halfway entertaining place for miles and had good drink specials, so sweet. I spent a lot of time over there during the first few months and quickly made friends with the regulars and the employees. I use the term "friends" loosely; most of these guys believed that an awkward boob grab was a suitable greeting. I suspect that paint huffing during pregnancy was endemic in this area, but I digress.

I have the prettiest mother, everybody thinks so: Bizarre beauty products (NSFW)

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Sun, 13 May 2012 19:20:00 +0000

Originally posted at Everything2 on November 19, 2010

I'll confess. I don't understand women AT ALL. While not an uncommon complaint, it is especially peculiar in my case being as I'm a woman myself. Whatever, there are plenty of ways to be nuts. Fortunately none of mine involve any of the products we will be discussing today. In the course of my time-wasting forays on the interwebs I had the (mis)fortune of stumbling across a list of strange "beauty" products, and I shall now review some of them for your reading pleasure. Enjoy...or not.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The following article is NSFW. May contain nudity, small parts, and ICP. The Schizophasic will not be held responsible for loss of lunch/job/sanity as a result of reading this article. Use at your own risk. Thank you for your consideration. (read: suck it up, you pansy)

It really sucks: A Kirby vacuum salesperson's story

noreply@blogger.com (Katt Savage) — Thu, 10 May 2012 22:37:00 +0000

As an HR major (update: former HR major - ed.) and generally distrustful person, I have learned over time how to recognize bogus job opportunities. The rule of thumb is, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Work from home scams are notorious for this and usually the easiest to spot. Maybe it's the cynic in me, but anything promising a large payoff for minimal effort just makes me roll my eyes. Sure, in a perfect world we could make a thousand bucks a month by working a couple hours a day. And in said perfect world beer would be good for us and animals would shit diamonds instead of scented land mines. I can happily say I've never fallen for a work from home scam, but I did fall for something just as bad, if not worse. For three days I was a Kirby vacuum cleaner salesperson.