I fucking love sour cream.

It was one of t… oh holy shit I just bit my tongue.

It was one of those foods that I avoided as a child out of principle. It was white, so it fit my food criteria (yes, I was an adolescent food racist. That needs to be its own blog post.), but it had the word “sour” in it, so I automatically branded it disgusting.

As a child, I did not do sour. I still don’t understand why kids are all about sour candies. Sour is not a candy, it’s a torture device for naughty children. They must have retarded taste buds from being so naughty.

I had my sour cream epiphany when a baked potato that arrived to me at a restaurant with the sour cream adorning the top like a snowy mound of dairy deliciousness. I cautiously took a bite… and it was good! Ever since I’ve put sour cream on everything from potatoes to taquitos. I sometimes like to make refreshing dips out of sour cream and herbs. And don’t even get me started on sour cream cake…

Sour cream, I love you. Don’t tell the mayo.

P.S. If I was a good little blogger I’d make turn this into some sort of inspirational bullshit like, “Today’s lesson is: Try new things, put it in her butt!” or “Sour cream is fleeting, like the sands in the hourglass, these are the days of our lives”. But I’m obviously not a good blogger. I’m eating sour cream. AND I BIT MY TONGUE.

In celebration of Hollywood Studios’ Star Wars Weekends, I bring you Star Wars stuff!

Glug glug, tastes like Vader.

(via Boing Boing)

I don’t know how I haven’t seen this before, but thanks to Lee on Facebook for sharing it with me. You can buy it on Zazzle (although I hear that they’re shutting down the Star Wars Zazzle site soon).

I don’t even know where my umbrella is anymore. This would do just fine…

(via ThinkGeek)

Video of the Week

Lazy Hoth seal has no job. Watch this and just try to get this song out of your head. It’s short, silly, and addictive.

Stuff I Did This Week

• In honor of Mother’s Day: PoP! Top 6-Pack: Most Memorable Movie Moms
• Also in honor of Mother’s Day: PoP! Top 6-Pack: Kickass Comic Moms
• Google and LG make a new TV that’s really expensive and kind of impractical.

One of the few perks of Florida residency is cheap* tickets to Disney World. In exchange for dealing with asshat toll roads, insane drivers, and really, really stupid people, we get to hemorrhage money at the altar of Uncle Walt.

But it’s hard to complain when it’s so damn fun.

Friday – Magic Kingdom

After the boring stuff of paying for parking and tickets, Knize and I head to the monorail station. The plan was to take the monorail over to the park and then take the ferry back that night. The monorail line was insanely long so we decided to take the ferry over, but not before the awesome Avengers monorail passed overhead. Of course, my dickhead camera was too slow, but I got a picture of its ass end later.

This monorail is so sweet. Too bad this is all my camera could manage. Stupid camera. >:(

I took that picture (and the next one) from the Main Street train station. If you’re going to the park for the first time, then taking your time and wandering down Main Street with the other gawkers isn’t a bad idea. But we wanted to beat the crowds to the Haunted Mansion (the best ride in the park, IMHO.) Take the train to Frontierland, and you shave a lot of time off of the trip to the back of the park.

This may be the best picture I've ever taken with the stupid cell phone camera.

Disney World did some pretty sweet updates to the Haunted Mansion. The new family busts in the queue line, along with the other exterior updates, are much better than the old line.

Picking statue boogers is always classy.

They made some upgrades to the interior of the ride, too. The hitchhiking ghosts made both Knize and I go “holy shit!” They actually interact with you instead of just sitting there. My favorite ride is even better now. Check out this behind-the-scenes video from the Disney Imagineers (one of the coolest jobs on the planet):

Also, on our first ride through, the cast member in the stretching room totally scared the shit out of Knize. After the lights turned back on Knize turned around and they were practically nose-to-nose. I don’t think he meant to do it on purpose, but it was hilarious. And also confirmation that, yes, we did pick the wall with the door in it.

Fast forward to our ride on the Jungle Cruise, where Skipper Terry said the funniest thing of the weekend:

“I have this gun here in case the hippos attack, but I’m not allowed to use it anymore. I can scare them with it, though.”

*leans over the side of the boat towards the animatronic hippo, waving the gun*

“HIPPOIGOTAGUN!!!!”

The other people in the boat weren’t nearly as amused, but that’s because Knize and I are made of concentrated awesome, and we get that shit on a deeper level. I hope that someday Skipper Terry reads this and sees how much we loved that, and how we quoted ”hippo I got a gun” all weekend at the most inappropriate times.

Then, I took way too many pictures of It’s A Small World. Because why the fuck not?

We went to Tomorrowland, rode the Stitch Alien Encounter-type-thingie, which I hadn’t ridden since it was the scary original Alien Encounter. Eh. It was OK. I love Stitch, but the original way-too-intense-for-the-anklebiters version was amazing.

And then we were tired and rode the Peoplemover. We rode it once, went on something else, and then got on it again. This time, Space Mountain was broken down and I got to see its sweet metal guts for the first time. The pictures are shitty because the Peoplemover zooms through there (and also because my camera suuuuuucks.)

After a few more shenanigans, it was time for the Main Street Electrical Parade. You just don’t understand how much I love this parade. It is just under the Spectromagic Parade in my list of epic parades.

And then my phone died because it’s a stupid little pussy. Seriously, if I hadn’t just thrown wads of money at Mickey Mouse I could have had a new phone by now.

As we left we also realized something important: despite all of the Disney travel blogs telling you to ask to ride up in the front of the monorail, don’t ask to do it. Ever since the accident almost three years ago that claimed the life of a monorail driver they’ve stopped letting guests ride with the driver. The poor guy we asked almost looked pained when he told us we couldn’t ride up front. I felt bad. I bet he gets asked a lot, and most people probably press the issue. Luckily, we remembered right away why riding up front is a no-no now, and we chilled in a middle car for the ride back to the parking lot.

Since this post is already way long, I’ll recap Saturday’s journey to Animal Kingdom in my next post.

*”Cheap” is a term used very loosely here.

I guess Diablo 3 is a thing that’s happening right now. Please excuse my lack of enthusiasm, but I have to act like I don’t give a shit in order to reign in my rage at the fact that I’m too poor/busy to even think about getting Diablo 3. BECAUZ I WOULD LIKES TO PLAY PLZ.

I spent all weekend at Disney World (pictures and gloating to come), which sucked every last expendable penny out of my bank account. I’m living on ramen noodles, oatmeal, and free coffee until Friday. (Seriously, I Googled “ramen recipes” to make gulping down a week’s worth of noodles doable.) Even if I were to download the game tonight, one of my two free nights this week, that’s $60 I could use to buy some meat and vitamin C so I don’t get scurvy. Or gas to go to work. Or I could save it to buy some sweet, sweet Disney Star Wars merch on Saturday. Diablo 3 will still be here. Stitch as Yoda won’t.

$65. Limited release of 3,000. Yeah... I think this is coming home with me.

Plus, the internet is a cruel and fickle bitch. Not only do we use an extreme amount of bandwidth on our craptacular internet connection at my house (between YouTube uploads, Netflix streams, and game connections it’s a wonder anyone can get their pr0n on), but the Diablo 3 servers couldn’t even handle running the damn game last night. Even better, people were actually surprised that the servers crashed. Error 37 is a celebrity in its own right.

I’m just going to watch it all day today on Twitter. It’s the hottest new reality show: Keepin’ Up With Error 37.

This all gives me a good reason to wait a week until everyone gets back to normal playing patterns, instead of OMG I HAVE TO BE THE FIRST PERSON TO FINISH THIS NOW.

Speaking of, some guy in the UK finished it in 12 hours and 29 minutes. Nothing like waiting a decade to play a game only to finish it in half a day. I mean, I finished Batman: Arkham City in a long weekend, but smashing through a game at full-speed isn’t the best way to play, IMHO. But what do I know, I’m an old-timer. I remember joysticks with one button and games that played from cartridges as big as my hand. I remember load screens that might as well have said, “Go make yourself a sandwich. This’ll take a while.”

Then again, I remember when saving a game was a rare luxury and sprinting through a game before the batteries died/your mom called you for dinner/you had to go to school was a necessary survival skill. And when Mario died you had to start from the beginning.

Kids today don’t know how good they have it with their error 37s and their game saves.

Video of the week:

Shia LaBeouf mentions Panels on Pages on Attack of the Show. Check it out at around the 2:06 mark. IT JUST GETS BETTER AND BETTER.
(via G4)

I want these plugs so badly I could cry. Sadly, 1) my ears have closed up to around 6g-4g, and 2) this was a limited-edition design that’s almost completely sold out. DAMN DAMN DAMN!
(via Omerica Organics)

“So surrry, but you have the super herpes and yer penis is going to be gross forever the end. That’ll be a hundred dollars. kthanxby.”

I don’t know where this picture originally came from but I found it on a blog called “Cerebral Milkshake”. That caption is from that blog (because I’m not clever enough to equate cute piggies with horrible medical news). The piggie reeled me in with its cuteness, and then the caption fucking broke my brain.
(via Cerebral Milkshake)

Knize has been on a failblog/memebase kick lately, and some of the things he posts to my Facebook wall are too good not to share.
(via Superheroes.memebase.com)

Stuff I did this past week (give or take a few days):

• The People vs. George Lucas is a documentary about the love/hate relationship that I (and, evidently, a million people just like me) have with George Lucas.
• My Lady’s Choice comic review of the week: Epic Kill
• Asteroid mining, brought to you by the guy who wrote, “I’ll never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go.”

Yes, that is a mini-horse. Living in my backyard.

Long story short, Knize’s dad saved Peanut (who we’ve now renamed Li’l Sebastian) from a trip to the glue factory. Now we have a living lawnmower wandering around our shared yard and making huge poop piles. Which, to the resident shit-eating bulldog Tasha, probably looks like a Chinese buffet on a Saturday night. (Although we’ve only noticed her eating her own poop to cover the fact that she pooed in the house. Which you probably didn’t want to know.)

So, to every six year old who wants a pony for Christmas (if you’re six years old and reading this blog, tell your parents that they’re terrible for leaving you alone on the internet), if you dream big and are a really, really good girl for about two decades, you might just get one.

In a move that really shocks nobody, and angers everybody I choose to associate with, NBC is shitcanning its only remaining good shows, 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation, and Community.

NBC has picked up a half dozen new shows for next season and multiple reports say the network will give final shortened seasons to its veteran sitcoms “30 Rock,” “Community” and “Parks and Recreation.”

Read more

Now, this is only my Sweet Spicy Chili Doritos-fueled opinion (they’re not paying me to say that, but I’m enjoying a bag right now and I love them), but I assume that this a reaction to the fact that everyone who watches these shows are intelligent, tech-savvy, and know how to operate their DVRs. We are the hated kids, the ones that spent hours on the computer in the mid-to-late 90′s, raised with a pop-up blocker mentality and a general contempt for advertising.

I don’t own a remote that looks like this:

 Or a TV that looks like this:

I have a remote with multiple skip speeds and the finely honed reflexes that you can only get from decades of Super Mario (on Game Boy, because I’m old-school like that). I am the commercial slayer. As are my compadres, the technologically-savvy who are flocking in droves to internet-based entertainment because, frankly, we’re tired of this slack-jawed-yokel bullshit that’s being put on broadcast television.

I suppose that’s what’s putting the nail in the coffin for these last few good shows. Since we’re not putting out, network execs have decided that they’re done trying to romance us. What’s that snapping sound you hear? Why, it’s just the RUBBER GLOVES OF CONFORMITY. 

On these grounds, I’m filing divorce papers, citing emotional abuse. I’m going to elope with FX and have lots of little Archer babies. So suck it NBC, CBS, and ABC. FOX, you’re still bringing me New Girl. I’ll let you sleep on the couch.

Sadly, we just don’t have any great, classic shows out there anymore. There’s no M*A*S*H, no Star Trek (and the last one was pitiful), no I Love Lucy… The list of brilliant classic TV goes on and on. As the networks’ bottom line chokes out creativity, it’s time to move on to another medium. Too bad that by snuffing out brilliant shows that didn’t bring in two-yachts-and-twenty-hookers money, network TV is eventually going to masturbate itself blind, and then cannibalize itself into obscurity.

I’ll be over here, watching Arrested Development on Netflix and The Guild on YouTube.

I have to say that I’m not incredibly level-headed when it comes to video games, especially ones that I’ve been waiting a long time for. I’ve already been waiting two years for Bioshock Infinite (thanks to GameInformer Magazine for giving me a taste two years ahead of time… grrrr…). I find out that it’s been delayed by another half year and I just want to FLIP ALL OF THE TABLES RIGHT NOW.

From Irrational Games’ Ken Levine:

When we announced the release date of BioShock Infinite in March, we felt pretty good about the timing.

Since then, we’ve come to realize that some specific tweaks and improvements will make Infinite into something even more extraordinary. Therefore, to give our talented team the time they need, we’ve decided to move the game’s release to February 26, 2013. We wanted to let our loyal (and very patient!) fans know this as soon as possible.

Read more…

While this news still makes me want to punch a baby Ewok in the face, I totally understand and respect their decision to make the final development tweaks needed to make the game great.

I also (and this is important) respect their decision to delay the game instead of trying to cram it all in at the last minute. As someone who has long wanted to work in the games industry, and has researched the insane hours that game developers work near “crunch time”, I totally understand a decision to say, “We’re going to push the release back so we don’t kill our workers.”

At least, I hope they’re not stressing out too much over there (wishful thinking, amirite?).

Also, I’m more than happy to give them the time they need to make this game the perfection that it deserves to be. I’m looking to be immersed in the world of Columbia, and if it takes them an extra four months to make that happen, so be it.

Maybe I can take the time to finally beat Batman: Arkham City and quit being so damn emo about it.

At what point does collecting stuffed animals (a kid’s pastime) turn into collecting “plushies” (totally acceptable for adults. Kinda.)?

I remember a time around the age of fourteen where I wanted nothing more than to make a funeral pyre in the backyard for every stuffed animal I had in my possession, because stuffed animals are for babies. Although my collection of Care Bears never got burninated, they did get passed down to my sister and younger cousins, leaving me to pursue more adult things like video games and porn.

Hello Kitty's turn-ons: lotion, Goodbye Horses, creep-staring at your soul as you write

At some point, I’ve let these fluff-filled maniacs back into my life, under the new title “plushie”. Because plushies are collectible. And totally for adults. Or so I’m told.

Let’s face it, plushies are about as collectible as toenails. There’s still a store around here that still has a sign up proudly proclaiming: “We sell Beanie Babies!” Hasn’t that ship already sailed? Beanie Babies aren’t worth anything any more.

Holy. Shit.

Ok, so I could be a tiny bit wrong about the worth of some (super-duper rare Princess Diana) Beanie Babies. But the question still stands: when did my brain have a meltdown to the point of me standing in the middle of my local comic book shop saying, “Oooh it’s a wittle pwushy Hulky-wulky. Look here, it’s a wittle Iron Man…” Ladies, I apologize. I set us back as a comics-reading species.

This is not acceptable behavior for a childless 27-year-old. Even if Iron Man was smushably adorable.

In order to get over my love of plushies, I must set my priorities straight. Because, contrary to the title of this post, my plushies will not defend me in the zombie apocalypse. Do you see Hello Kitty’s eyes? That’s a fucking traitor, right there.

ZOMBIE-FIGHTING WEAPONS VS. PLUSHIES:

LESSON: SELL THE PLUSHIES, SAVE THE WORLD

Yes, this is like a fucked-up version of The Price Is Right. Learn from this. Take my warning and it will save your life. You’re welcome.

Sometimes, throwing my hair into a stupid clip while I’m doing laundry (like the responsible adult I sometimes pretend to be) leads to really cute discoveries. Like the fact that my once “raspberry” (read: hot pink) tips have faded to this really cute bubblegum pink shade.

I think I’ve learned a valuable lesson. Manic Panic is really popular, but its red shades look like tangerine ass when they fade out. This Beyond the Zone Color Jamz stuff not only comes in a convenient squeeze bottle and smells delicious (as opposed to the Manic Panic eau de hippie feet), but it fades out to THIS. Fucking fantastic.

Now, I’m not swearing off of Manic Panic altogether. They have great colors and the stuff is uber-conditioning (my hair is breaking like a mofo right now), but I’m not a 100% Manic Panic girl anymore. My apologies to Tish and Snooky.