Saturday, November 10, 2012
It has made my face permanently like this,
I’ve realized today’s generation has an even more difficult time escaping douche levels of narcissism, egotism, entitlement—ism…you get the idea. Statistics,(a number I just randomly made up), show that there is a 89.7% chance of your child growing up to be an ASSHOLE or ASSOLINA. Being stuck at home and not working has left me to watch a lot of television again to do a lot of research and to ask, “Why the hell are they broadcasting this; why do we need to know this type of information???” For example, I was torturing myself by watching “The Talk” which is kind of like “The View” but Darleen from “Roseanne” is on the panel and she hardly says anything. They were doing a segment on women’s fashion essentials. I know I’ve been watching these types of things for years and it never really interested me or bothered me. However, today, not only does it disinterest me, it complete angers me! Why should I let it bother me? Some may even say these types of shows aren’t hurting anyone, but it does. It distracts our youth from things that are more important like PENISES! Okay, not penises, but the balls too. Okay, not penises and balls…but there are a lot more important things to own other than a pair of flesh tone heels, a skinny and a fat belt, and a scarf. This is information that I can’t get rid of and I am ashamed for even remembering it. So remember kids, during a storm remember to break out your shoes and belt because you have to look good when you’re about to die! There is no app for not dying. Actually, there might be, but chances are, it won’t work…unless it worked for you, then yay, you’re not dead! That entire sentence was underlined in green and I don’t feel like changing it.
What else was stupid on television besides the presidential election? We already knew who won, so what the fuck? Shut up. Oh right, every stupid show reported on what the first lady was wearing. Remember how ugly Barbara Bush was? Did they really care that much for her dress? I would guess no, because only pretty people get the attention. I can totally get into the whole “everyone cries for only the pretty chick who killed herself” thing, but I will save that for another time. Anyway, my point is I hate the fashion segment of any show. I hate interior designing tips and I hate hair tips because in the end, (THE REAL END) these all won’t matter. What if there is no end? Then, fuck. What if there was no end and our people was just made to become continually shallow and useless? Then I am sorry and I will never write another blog again. I do like Gangnam Styling though, so future dumb people of the world, remember Grace likes Gangnam Style! Oh, and I own an iPhone.....four, not five. I'm guessing that last statement will eventually get dated and I perhaps would be super hip for owning an iPhone 4 while listening to Gangnam Style in ten years.
So here’s a little information about me, I grew up watching 15 hours (at least) of television everyday. I was lucky enough to have my own television in my room from the age of seven. What were my parents thinking? Well, I can only imagine they were sick of my brother and I hogging the television in the family room. Kids are annoying, I totally understand. In addition, my personal television was equipped with stolen cable! Don’t worry, they didn’t air hardcore porn until I was in high school; it was just soft core from the ages of seven to fifteen. You’re probably wondering how someone could watch so much television and not be completely ruined in the brain. I am ruined in the brain in other departments; however, my theory is my brain suffered from, what non-scientists call, “Media Overload”. I’ve watched so many shows, so many commercials, so many movies that my brain is literally rejecting any further disinformation. My brain barfs and cries when I watch television, when I enter a mall, and when I walk by a fashion magazine….oh and when a chick I just met shows me her new bracelet. I just want to say, “Nice bracelet, are your wrists that ugly that you have to cover it up, stupid?”.
Okay, what does this all mean? The only cure for universal douchiness, is to make your kid watch television 15 hours a day for 18 years, and eventually they’ll grow out of it. However, if you're one of those people who are just born naturally douchey, then holy crap you suck. My advice for you is nothing because you probably think you're entitled to special treatment everywhere and nothing is ever up to your standards of RIDICULOUSNESS. Actually, I do have advice, but it would be illegal for me to write it out. Lastly, for all you smart butts out there, I understand that television is going out of style and watching things on the internet is the more modern, convenient thing to do and blah blah blah PENIS!
Grace Yam—solving world problems since yesterday.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Well, you can do these things, but you make it really hard for me not to insert a comment that may make you cry, or do the inevitable, and delete me from your friend's list. Why do I even keep you as a friend? Well, honestly I keep you to make myself feel better. You're someone I've actually met who does and say stupid, stupid things; or you have friends that have absolutely no privacy settings so I can totally creep, point, and laugh at this person! I'm sure most of you keep me as a friend because I make you so angry that you can't help but keep me because I'm like that old lady with the big butt who wears tight pants so you can see the outline of her granny panties accompanied by the camel's toe, and you can't stop looking and you wonder if this person is aware of the prominent underwear line and by doing so you stare harder only hoping it will go away; but instead, the lady will mistaken your constant staring for that sexual attention she so pleases. Yeah, keeping friends you don't like on Facebook is EXACTLY like staring at the ugly, old lady who wears tight pants.
Ironically, one of the first rules of 'Grace Yam Facebook Laws', is to never complain about stupid things your friends do on Facebook as your status. I am very, very guilty of this; however, on the flip side, if you're guilty of these complaints then don't "like" the status. What does that even mean? Does it mean you've acknowledged that you're a douche? Do you think by "liking" said status you've cancelled all wrong doing? I think, most likely, you're oblivious, delusional, and/or in denial. For example:
Grace Yam: Stop showing pictures of yourself licking your ass, you douche.
*Douchebag Ass licker likes this*
Another popular status update that everyone does is to ask if anyone's interested in doing something with them. Only two things result from this:
1. No one answers and you look stupid
2. Someone you don't like answers and you have to come up with a lame excuse like,"Someone hacked into my account and instead of saying that I was a taint licker, asked if I wanted some company going on a hike in the middle of winter".
Sometimes I read really funny status updates;however, it's unfortunate that my friends have really stupid friends who don't understand the joke of the status so they go and ruin it with a ditzy comment followed by an emoticon such as, ;p. The wink with a tongue is annoying. I don't get it. 8====o to your face!
Funny friend: Bears look like dogs with down syndrome
Stupid friend: Bears and dogs are different animals and they don't get down syndrome I know, because I graduated from "I'm now 25 000 in debt for a degree I will never use :P".
The stupid (:P) confuses me. Does it mean the person was just joking about their being stupidly serious? And it's always the chick with the "head tilt-up close" picture who likes to state the obvious and has never been exposed to sarcasm what so ever. Then somehow the whole debate turns religious or sexist.
There are the obvious Facebook annoyances like taking a billion pictures of yourself, and updating your status every three minutes. I admit I have updated my status more than three times a day and when I lost a fair amount of weight I took pictures of myself; however, I once again feel crappy about the way I look and I hate having my picture taken. But there is one thing I don't understand and that is people who take pictures of pointless, boring food. I'm a chef and I appreciate pretty plates. I love what my fellow chef friends' posts OR even if it's something you made yourself. That's cool, because I encourage everyone to cook for themselves; however, if you're taking pictures of a donut from Tim Hortons there is something really, really wrong with you. Plus, if you have an album of boring, generic food with a picture of overdone steak with the words "yum" underneath it then you deserve to read this and realize you're the one I'm talking about, and I hope your feelings get hurt or something really bad happens to you but not so bad that you get physically hurt because that's just mean.
Skinny people should never inform the rest of the fat population that they're at the gym "sweatin' it out". Actually, skinny people who want to be told they're not fat should never inform their friends that they're at the gym. We know you're at the gym or in a washroom puking somewhere. We already understand you like the look of ribcage. We get that the rest of us are fat. On the other hand, what does one say to a fat person's status update that says, "I feel fat and ugly today"? Admit, we all want to like the status...except for the chick who also seeks compliments so they answer with, "Babe, you're beautiful. Don't let anyone say otherwise". This conversation should stop right there but NO, it'll probably continue to be one, long, lesbionic vagina nosing.
-"Thanks, hun you're so pretty too and on the inside!"
-"Let's go get drunk and go out so we can screw dudes we don't even know just to make ourselves feel better for half the night in hopes to create a long, lasting relationship with someone who will be too drunk to notice how ugly I really am in the night"
-"And then to make ourselves feel better we'll tell ourselves that we're just empowered women, only to eat ourselves into, yet, another depression.
Just incase oblivious, stupid friend reads this, these conversations didn't really happen on Facebook. But the symbology is there. I know, I assume things and in my head it seems right.
Okay, so onto another Facebook no-no, motivational quotations that no one but the poster him/herself should read.:
"Follow life like a flower and take it one petal at a time" --seriously? Yeah, I just made it up but how fucking stupid is that?
There are a lot quotes like that one or ones that make fun of exes. Guess what? You were someone's ex at one point so you're the "left over" the "poop" that people smear on walls too! Most of these people fall victim to the "copy and paste" status'; along with the "spam all your friends or you'll be cursed with bad luck for the rest of your life" type shit. Sometimes I read corny quote after corny quote and I have to wonder if this person is okay. I think it may be a warning sign and someone who gives a bigger crap about them should do something. Hey, I think I'm onto something, the new psychology of Facebook!
Friends are like apples, you need a strong core for it to start--aka, I'm fucking going to shoot myself in the saggy vagina if someone doesn't come pay attention to me.
These are the same type of people who post pictures of hot chicks instead of a picture of themselves. What, are you reminding all the dudes that this is someone you'll never look like but you got them horny enough to call you at 3am for a paper bag booty call? Was that mean? Yeah.
Lastly, until I think of more things to say, people have to stop posting things about hockey, old pictures of the fucking royal wedding, and rap artists who need to use auto tune! They're not even singing why do they need that shit? Alright, perhaps the hockey and royal wedding was something I should have wrote about last year, but I was too lazy to blog. However, I still see people who have pictures of Kate and William on their profile pictures. What have they done that is so significant other than William being squeezed out of some royal box.
If you stay my friend after reading this, yet you're guilty of these things, then you're really my friend. I'll probably send you a message stating that you have full, Grace Yam immunity. If not, then I forgot. Sorry?
Friday, April 15, 2011
There isn't a huge difference between cooking and hooking; however, there are slight variances. Here is the scientific proof by yours truly. Let's compare scripts shall we?
Cooker: So, what would you like?
Hooker: So, what would you like?
Cooker: Can I toss that salad for you?
Hooker: Can I toss that salad for you?
Cooker: Would you like me to heat up your meat?
Hooker: Would you like me to heat up your meat?
Cooker: After I heat your meat, you're going to put it in your mouth.
Hooker: After I heat your meat, you're going to put it in my mouth.
Cooker: You're going to eat until you finish.
Hooker: I am going to eat until you finish.
*cooker gets a little bit of money
*hooker gets a lot of money
In the end the hooker wins, which means everyone should become hookers.
Friday, March 25, 2011
I don't even know how to type anymore. I feel like I've lost all of my funny. Well, there is a good reason for that, and that's SHIT. Yeah, a lot of shit has been happening or has happened, not only to me, but to people around me. All this shit has got me thinking about WHY things happen and WHY people act a certain way. This is NOT aimed at anyone in particular...perhaps mostly to my subconscious. I am in denial most of the time, it's fun!
First of all, chicks. Oh, you know the demons I face being a chick and hating most chicks' actions, right? Well, now you do. Most chicks hate other chicks for no reason. Well, there are reasons; such as, jealousy, insecurity, egoism (not sure if that was a word until I realized there was no squiggly red line under it), and psycho bitch syndrome. "Psycho bitch syndrome" is closely related to the "no reason at all" theorem that I came up with. Psycho bitches hate chicks with good attitudes. They cannot fathom the idea of another chick not expressing any sort of psycho bitchism. I don't hate chicks. I just hate being around chicks. I am not talking about chicks who I already hang out with, I hang out with them for a reason and that is, they're almost as dickish asI am. I choose to believe I have the whole insecurity reason, just because chicks sure do like to judge! Fuck, I judge. I judge the fuck out of everyone, including myself that would explain my lack of ability to brag about things. Seriously though, chicks need to lay off the two-faced psycho bitch syndrome, which is a step up from just regular psycho bitch syndrome. As you can tell, I am a trained professional and I know what I'm talking about. I'll judge the crap out of you if don't agree. I like how girls make an effort on complimenting other chicks even when they don't mean it. I hardly compliment anyone because, I just don't notice pretty, shiny things. I really don't. I'm not a bitch about it, I just don't care about that stuff. LOOK AT ME, I don't even brush my hair and I cut it myself. Dudes, on the other hand, don't judge as harshly. Well, they judge, but differently. Less nagging, more cleaning, and you're IN with the dudes! Unfortunately, there are chicks who are aware of this disease so they try REALLY fucking hard to not be psycho that it backfires. They want to dudes' friends, but once you put a dick near their mouths, they freak out. Most of those chicks are guilty of telling me they LOVE my blog/humour, but really can't stand me and think I'm really fucked up. The thing is, they have a legitimate point. I'm SCREWED in the EFFING HEAD, people!
Which brings me to my other point: playing the victim is really easy in the beginning, but gets really irritating very quickly. It's out right annoying, is what THAT is. I can tell you all the sad and heartbreaking moments of my life, but what the hell would that do? Nothing, it's all been done. I can't explain why bad things happen to good people, all I know is there is a reason for those things to happen, and one of them is NOT to annoy people around by dwelling on the past. You know what I suffer from? The opposite of being the victim. I have no idea what that is called, but I always feel like everything is my fault. I hate complaining about anything. No, this is not a free pass for you stupid people out there to use the "I feel guilty for feeling bad" victim card. You're still playing the same card, but you're being super manipulative as well...I know...I've played it. Okay, okay, I'm not saying it's NOT okay to feel sorry for yourself FOR A WHILE, but it gets boring. Things happen so history won't repeat itself to YOU or to OTHERS. If you're in a constant state of "meh meh meh...WAH WAH WAH" then what? Your tears are salty, it can't be good for your face.
Now, if people can just get out of the state of stupidity by being a little less selfish, being aware of what and who is around you, being a little more considerate, then PERHAPS our world can change drastically. However, I don't think that'll ever happen. That would just make too much sense in this stupid world. Let's ALL feel sorry for Earth and complain about the people who inhabit it ALL DAY LONG. Remember one thing, what goes around doesn't necessarily come around, that's why there are so many evil people who are rich and successful, and most importantly, happy. That's just the way our world works. The only way to fix it is to throat punch them.
Friday, October 29, 2010
You suck! I'm just kidding. Okay, so most of you who don't know me will be very confused with this latest note. I'm choosing to take a break from my nonsensical, awkward opinions to let you into my personal life. So, about eight months ago I met a boy. People around me have only recently learned about his boy. Not just any "boy", but a fantastic, talented, intelligent man. As cynical as I am, it is easily assumed that I might be brain washed into loving someone. No, I did it all by myself. My inability to express my feelings and my wanting to hide my personal life has backfired...in the sense that I was once *this person* and now all of sudden I am person with a huge heart living with my significant other. It's easy to see as a third party, that my boyfriend forced me to fall in love with him, forced me to live with him, and then forced me to even write this note. He has no idea I'm writing this, by the way. Okay, so a little background information about myself...
If you've read my previous notes and/or book, you'll know that I hated everything that dealt with the idea of love, or soul mates, or mushy feelings on the inside. I vouched for friends (enemies) with benefits, one night stands, and believed that true love was for suckers. I still believe in all of these things; however, I now think those actions have an expiry date. I have a whole new perspective on what most people think what love is. Perhaps, I am blinded, or gitty like a school girl without a brain, but I'm actually okay with that because, I can say, as hard as it was to be with my man, I am for once, really happy.
Anyway, blah blah blah...as you are most likely able to tell, it's a bit shocking that when I came back from working away from Vancouver for four months that I come back with a dude...and that I'm living with this dude. Towards my family, I'm a very secretive person. They don't know much about my personal life. I really wanted to tell them that I met a super cool dude, but as superstitious I am, I didn't want to jinx it. Plus, to get to where we're at was a difficult road that I will NOT be writing about, because I don't feel like it? Yeah, that's just leave it at that. I take that our trials and tribulations as a sign that all that hard work would lead to an awesomely "easy" relationship. I know, I know, not everything is easy. Well, the whole point to this note was for me to let everyone know I wasn't placed on any medication, nor was I forced to stare a swirly umbrella thing with weird music and subliminal messages playing in the background. All I did was walk into a room and I looked at the first thing that attracted me...then after I made out with the pork belly I was introduced to two, sexy green eyes that was attached to everything else that was sexy. As terrible I am at flirting, I shied away from inappropriate crazy eye winks and air thrusting. I was just glad that I had his friendship before I got drunk enough to be the innocent, vulnerable bystander.
Well, on kind of the same note, this relationship is far from easy and it is trying at times. I just know that the time we do have together isn't spent wanting to kill each other. In fact, we're that couple everyone wants to kill. The only difficult part of our relationship was the "getting there." It was hard for us to be together, and whoever wants to keep us apart (hypothetically speaking), should know that it makes our time together that much strong and cornier with hearts and stuff spewed all over the place. All I know is that it was a lot easier for me to judge before I knew what love was. It was easy for me to look at an affectionate couple and say, "I bet they won't last a week", then laugh profusely. It was easy, because I was bitter. Now, all I want is for people to find their other half. It really makes all the difference in the world to find someone worth living for. I'm still bitter, but I'm now I'm bitter and happy. It's kind of rare to be with someone who doesn't annoy me, but just impresses me every day, and who gets more attractive by the minute. No, I'm not wanting you to barf, but if you must then I'm sorry? I'm pretty sure one day you'll meet someone, and then re-read this and nod your head in agreement. I really hope that this happens to you...all of you, and not just your forehead because that would be weird. Those who suffered broken hearts just have to wait, because who ever broke your heart just gave it another chance to find the real one...someone you can tolerate, someone you can be yourself with, someone who can destroy that elephant in the room. Aw, poor figurative elephant.
I know this note is WAY out of the norm for me. I apologize to all the PDA haters out there. I totally feel for you, because I was with you eight months ago. I can't predict the future, but whatever happens, I don't regret anything that had led me up to this point. Besides, this whole 2012 conspiracy theory doesn't seem so much of a conspiracy anymore...dun dun dun! I'm just glad that I've actually experienced corny love before the world goes BOOM.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
....which is pretty much the end to the ever popular story of "Puss in Boots". Or is it? No one actually remembers the story of Puss in Boots, and if you are one of these people then SHHHH...you are not welcome here! Recently, I went on a trip to Seattle and somehow, Puss in Boots came up and I totally didn't know what that story was about. When I was a kid I had a big book of children's fairy tales and I always tended to skip Puss in Boots. Even back then I was bored with the image of a cat wearing boots. I was like, "Dude, where is the sexy princess who eventually loses her flower to a prince?" Oh, but there WAS a sexy princess in this story of Puss in Boots. She was just taking a backseat to all the shenanigans Puss in Boots was doing. What a clever cat, that Puss in Boots was. If they renamed the story "Dude looking to get Laid with the Help of a Kitty in Boots", then perhaps I would have read it...over and over again. So, for all of you who are not familiar with the story of "Puss in Boots" here it is in dumbed down Grace version.
Okay, so once upon a weird effing time where cats could talk and dudes looked like chicks, there lived a dude (who looked like a chick). Dude's name, well, wasn't Dick; but we'll call him Dick in this version because you'll never remember his real name. Alright, so Dick's dad died and left him with a talking cat. I mean, if I was given a talking cat I'd be like, "Aw man, my cat can effing talk!"
But no, Dick felt cheated because magical, talking cats just wasn't doing it for him. Instead, Dick wanted the opposite of dick. He wanted a real pussy, ironically. He complained to his cat that he was lonely, poor, and hungry. So instead of doing something, like getting off his ass and working, Dick turned to his cat for help and advice. Cat with Paws, (as he was called before his boots), asked Dick to make him a pair of boots.
"Dude, make me some boots".
"Now call me Puss in Boots".
"Okay, then what?"
"You'll see, Dick, you'll see MEOW!"
So it was now Puss in Boot's duty to find Dick a wife and get laid. Why? I don't know. Seems like Dick doesn't really deserve a chick. Anyway, Puss in Boots does a whole bunch of sneaky things to trick the King into thinking that Dick is super swell guy. Puss even eats an ogre...true effing story, man! I mean, it's true in the story. Continuing on, Puss tells the King that Dick is drowning so the King goes and "saves" Dick. Dick meets the King's daughter and they totally do it.
THE EFFING END!
Apparently, the boots had no purpose in this story. The cat could have done what he did perfectly fine without those damn boots. So the moral of the story is, if you lie and you're a cute, little cat you can con your way into anything. Also, if you're an ungrateful dude with a talking cat, your cat will do anything to make you happy; even commit murder just so you can get laid...by a princess with a stupid dad who somehow became Kind of a kingdom.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Some of you might have noticed that I disabled the commenting powers on my blog. Well, you see I've attracted a few "unfans" in real Grace life. I don't know how that corresponds with my fake blog Grace life, except for the whole "Grace" thing. Anyway, as much as I love having internet commenting wars, this case has been a little bit different. I will not go into details about my personal life (for now) out of respect for other people. I will disrespect people when the time is right, because I think I've caused enough damage as it is. I will; however, dedicate this blog to someone I don't even know; the douchebag who claims they are helping in a situation they've not even involved in.
Dear Annymous Commenter who chooses only to read the titles of my blog and not the actual content:
First of all, I'm glad you feel the need to butt into a situation that you have nothing to with. It's okay, I get it, your life is boring...not that it's a bad thing. I wish my life was boring right now. I guess I'm subconciously compensating for lost drama time during my fat teen/young adult years. You know, all I did was make wontons and dumplings during my weekends and ate them ALL. It's great that you're commenting on my blog and it's even greater that you're trying to insult me, someone you don't even know. I just hope that by doing so, you feel better as a person. I like to contribute to the boost of people's egos. It would be easy for me to call you nasty names and tell you that you're stupid; however, I don't know if you're REALLY stupid. That would be ignorant of me to assume that you're stupid. You could be a very, very intelligent person; heck, you could even be a very personable lady/man/hermaphrodite. On the other hand, that would also be another ignorant thought process. I'd like to stay neutral when it comes to forming opinions on people I don't know and I suggest you do the same.
So, yeah, I bet you think I'm a professional seductress who likes to steal men away from their wives while waving my vagina in public. I'm actually kind of flattered if anyone were to think that of me. I'm actually very awkward who spent most of my life being overweight and nerdy. I spend most of my time on the internet watching the latest fads on cooking....not reading articles on how to seduce taken men...contrary to your popular belief.
On a final note, anonymous commenter, I wish you all the best and hope you improve on your commenting capabilities. Insults only count if they actually work and make sense. I know, perhaps me taking things into their literal context makes it quite difficult for me to "get" your insults, but that's what passive agressive people do...we get literal.
I do have an email address that you can contact me with if you so wish. I don't really know what that would accomplish..except perhaps maybe it might give you the illusion that you DON'T have a nub for a penis; or if you are a chick, that your vagina is extra flappy and/or a gaping hole. Again, using derogatory terms is the easy way out and I expect YOU to do such things like that, you *insert no insult word here*. Oh right, and if you're wondering if "douchebag" is a bad word, it's not if you take it into the literal context. It could very well be a compliment.
I understand by disabling my comments makes me a pussy, but I'm okay with admitting that.