Magical Mystery Turd

You can't tell me you're not humming the Beatles right now... well, that's if you're old enough to know about the Beatles.

We here at Twitarded, enjoy discussing fecal matters. It's usually Jenny Jerkface's department but I thought I'd jump in here with my own poop post. So if you're uncomfortable with discussions about launching the brown torpedo, you may want to avert your eyes. Although I imagine most of you come here specifically for our toilet humor.

Hi-dee Ho! Let's talk about me!

I was dropping the kids off at the pool the other day and when I got up to flush, I noticed my number two was MIA. Huh? I'm 99.9% sure something came out, where the hell did it go? I looked up on the interwebs about this crazy phenomenon and lo and behold, it has a name.

May I present to you...

Did anyone notice where it says "Should you wipe...maybe you should just to make sure you went." Errr... I don't care if my ka-ka did vanish like Edward Cullen afraid of getting caught watching me sleep, I think I would've wiped my ass. *shakes head* In fact, Mr. Latchkey often accuses me of using half a roll of toilet paper every time I drop a dookie. Not true. I only use a quarter of the roll. What? Fuck the environment. Who wants a fudge finger?

I'm also quite perplexed by the floating feces. What in the hell makes shit float? I couldn't find a name for it on my new favorite website (Poopnames.com) so I'm making up my own.

Dead Man's Float Dump - You apparently have an excess of gas in your system thus making your poop float like a long-dead corpse. These types of dumps are handy because there's no question on whether or not you actually went. (see above Houdini dump) Although they're also famous for not wanting to flush on the first try.

If I'm not mistaken, isn't it an accumulation of gasses in the body that make a corpse float as well? Gotta remember those cement shoes to keep the evidence hidden!

I'm sure a lot of you work in an office and you're probably, at times, forced to make a deposit at your office's porcelain bank. And even though crapping is about as natural as it gets, you still have a fear of someone hearing the plop-plop fizz-fizz coming from your stall. (Unless your Jenny Jerkface who will actually try to force out an ass rocket just to mortify her bathroom mate.)

This one's for you...

I often find that if there's an electric hand dryer in the bathroom, punch that baby on before you go into the stall. It works wonders for hiding those undesirable sound effects. I implemented this tactic quite often in my college dorm. I have also heard that in Japan, they have toilets that make constant flushing sounds to mask the...other sounds. Genius!

If you're still here and I haven't completely grossed you out, tell me what your favorite poop type is? Check out Poopnames.com to help you get the proper scientific term for the big brown man knocking at your back door!

My Brain is an Insomniac. And a Total Dick.

You know how sometimes, when you're under lots of pressure or feel anxious, all you want to do is close your eyes and drift off into some wonderful la-la land where it's all fluffy clouds, rainbows and naked Robert Pattinson?

You know, go to my happy trail place...

Well, that's how I've been feeling lately. Work is kind of sucky and super stressful and wah wah wah, so all I want to do when it's time for bed is just, well, sleep. Escape.

My brain, on the other hand, has a different idea. It's decided that the best way to handle my stress is to jerk me awake every fucking forty five minutes or so all night long. Every goddamn night for the past week. Then, the second my alarm goes off, my brain is all, "oh, I'm hitting the sack, I'm totally fucking beat, see you around midnight" and checks out and I spend the rest of the day slurping massive amounts of caffeine and almost forgetting to pull down my panties when I have to pee.

My brain is such a fucking dickhead.

While I can't remember (thankfully, I'm sure) all the reasons I bolted awake, here is more or less how my night went last night. Or maybe it was the night before. Things are a little muddled. I am almost always in bed before midnight in the desperate attempt that I might get more than hour of uninterrupted sleep...

And that's when my brain starts up. 

12:34 am - Psssst, Jenny, are you awake? Hello? HELLLLOOOOOO??? Hey, I was just wondering if you were awake... Oh! There you are! Just wanted to say hi!! You can try to go back to sleep now.

1:20 am - Hey, Jenny, did you ever send that report to Joe Blow this morning? You know, that one that was super duper important and you're probably going to get fired if you didn't send it? Let's think about whether or not you sent it for the next ten minutes, okay? And if you didn't... YOU'RE TOTALLY FUCKED FOR LIFE.

2:01 am - Jenny, did you lock the doors before you went to bed? Because if you didn't, then some crazy Freddy Krueger mass murderer is going to break into your house and kill you and skin you and that would really suck. Maybe you should go downstairs and check. Sure hope no one is down there waiting for you.

2:30 am - HOLY FUCKING SHIT, FREDDY KRUEGER IS HIDING IN THE BATHTUB. DO NOT GO IN THERE OR HE WILL KILL YOU. PAINFULLY.

2: 40 am - Pssst, Jenny, I think you have to pee. Like, bad. You should totally go to the bathroom. I would pee as fast as you can because, you know, Freddy.

3:30 am -OH MAH GAHD, Just came up with the BEST storyline EVER. Okay, so here's the plot, but you need to get up and grab a pen first. Jenny? HEY!! This is going to make you famous, WAKE THE FUCK UP. Okay, good. Got a pen? Wait, what were we talking about again? I forget. Go back to sleep.

4:00 am - So, Jenny, I was thinking... What if the train explodes tomorrow while you're on it? Did you make out a will yet? Who will take your clothes? Do you think people would come to your funeral???

4:30 am - Holiday RoooAAAdddd, roooAAAAddd... Holiday ROOaaaDDDD, rrrOOOOaaaaDDDD... ... ... HOLIDAY RoooAAAddddddd, ROOOaaaaaaDDDDD...

5:00 am - WHAT IS THAT NOISE??? It's a goddamn abomination. Oh, it's ML snoring. Anyway, now that you're awake, you should just get up because this is the PERFECT time to be up. Right the fuck now. Get up. Stop laying there, Jenny!!! Get up!! No, fine?

5:45 am - DUDE IT'S SATURDAY!!!! YAY!!! You can sleep in, Jenny!! How fuckawesome is that!!!

6:00 am - Oops, that's your alarm. Just kidding about it being Saturday!! Get up and go to work, you poor bastard. I'll see you later on tonight. I'm totally wiped and need a nap.

Yeah, my brain is a fucking asshole.

What are some of things that your mind does to fuck with you when all you want is just to get some goddamn shut-eye???

Oh, and if you've never heard of the song that my brain was singing at 4:30 this morning, here it is. You're welcome. I'll fully expect hate email within the next 24 hours when it's stuck in your head.

...And the Circle of Weird is Complete: Kristen Stewart Reads From 50 Shades of Grey.

I saw enough weirded-out people on Twitter commenting on this video earlier today, but I am sure some of you will still want to...express yourselves in the comments. Seriously - Kristen Stewart reading from 50 Shades of Grey? It's like the Nth most-deepest level in Inception. Or maybe just the third one. Either way, someone tip my chair over already!

Get More: Movie Trailers, Movies Blog

...aaand the Circle of Weird is complete. At least until Rob's publicist isn't looking and someone slips a copy into his hands one day soon.

Thoughts???

And for added entertainment, here is Gilbert Gottfried reading 50 Shades. It is...really something. You won't be able to un-hear this once it has been heard. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Twitarded Says Goodbye to Some Music Legends

May has not been kind to the music world. This month, we've lost three influential musicians -- MCA, Donna Summer and Robin Gibb. Don't they say bad shit comes in threes? That's three. That's enough. The end.

On May 4, Beastie Boys founding member Adam "MCA" Yauch passed away after a lengthy battle with cancer. He was just 47.

My greatest Beasties memory is when I got the Ill Communication CD. I had just bought my first real "stereo" -- you remember, the component system with the receiver and the 5-CD player -- I played that thing so loud that it made the CD skip because my speakers were too close to the CD player. Fucking right, dude. I can still see 24-year-old me sitting on the floor of my bedroom (I still lived at home) letting the sounds of songs like Sure Shot and Sabotage wash over me. I'm surprised I still have my hearing. What?

But nothing gets me like Get It Together... I can help but bounce in my seat.

This past Friday, we lost the Queen of Disco when Donna Summer lost her battle with lung cancer. She was 63.

I often forget all the amazing songs Ms. Summer graced us with throughout her career.  MacArther Park, Hot Stuff, Bad Girls (one of my all time favorites... toot toot, hey, beep beep!) and She Works Hard for the Money. But no song caused as much controversy as Love to Love You Baby in all it's moaning, orgasmic awesomeness. It became one of the first ever disco hits to be released in an extended form... perverts.

I'm surprised I haven't heard this as the soundtrack for a hot RPattz video. Someone get on that fast.

And today, Robin Gibb of the Bee Gees succumbed to the colon and liver cancer that had been fighting for years. He was 62.

The Bee Gees were the fucking cat's meow when I was a kid. My mom had an album -- it had to be a greatest hits compilation and I can remember putting on the ol' headphones and listening to songs like Tragedy and Stayin' Alive a million times. I even had a Bee Gees lunchbox when I was a kid. No joke. Oh and one of those giant posters that came with the markers and you had to color it in yourself. I'm pretty sure I never finished coloring the Gibbs brothers. Shame.

I'm sure somewhere John Travolta is getting an inappropriate massage in memory of the Bee Gees.

I know we run the gamut of age groups here at Twitarded but I imagine you all have one or two memories of at least one of these amazing musicians. Can you top my lunchbox? Have at it in the comments.

Music is Awesome. And Sometimes People Are Too

You probably haven't noticed, but I tend to be a cynic. Maybe it's because I live in a pretty densely populated part of the country and work in a city where the people are packed in like rats. I mean, your chances of running into one or twenty douchebags on a regular basis increases exponentially with that many people running around, right?

That being said, every once in a while, I come across someone or something that makes me wipe the cynicism from my eyes and really look around and suddenly my faith in humanity is restored.

I honestly don't remember how I stumbled upon this video but I'm assuming I saw it on Reddit, since I spend an appalling amount of time lurking over there.

It's a beautiful video. It might have made me cry a little. An 8 year old blind autistic boy is captivated with the music of a street busker.

I honestly don't know who is more awesome in this video - the young boy, the musician or the parents. Probably all of them. I have to admit, the moment that the mom asked if the kid could touch his guitar and the musician nodded enthusiastically kind of clinched it for me.



As most of you know, music plays a huge part in my life and I love how it brings together random strangers in this video, especially the child. I can't imagine what it's like having children, much less a child with autism. I hear so many stories of kids with autism who are unable to communicate outside of themselves. My heart goes out to the strong families who have autistic children.

By the way, the musician in this video is Tyler Gregory from Kansas. You can read his wonderful response to this video on his blog. He sounds like a really amazing, kind guy. We need more people like him.

I also strongly suggest you check out his music. He's very good and I really enjoyed listening to his songs.

God, all this sappiness is hurting my eyes. They keep tearing up every time I watch that video. Don't worry, I promise we'll be returning to our usual grumpy, snarky selves soon enough. Until then... Be safe.

Devil in a Sunny Yellow Package

I was going to include Splenda in my sorta recent "Awful Things" post, but I consider Splenda/sucralose to be in an awful category of its own and therefore worthy of a dedicated rant. Also, I don't know much (and you can replace "much" with "jack squat" here, really) about slander/libel law and I love my blog, so let me preface this by saying that the following is only my opinion. And in my opinion, Splenda is the Great Satan of artificial sweeteners.

 Oh sure, this seems innocent enough...

As most of you know and some of you have seen firsthand, I have numerous vices and sometimes do things that are not so good for my body. I have a love of french fries. And vodka. And red wine. Food is not really a vice - usually - but I just stuffed myself with an obscene amount of Chipotle. And all those whippets I did back in high school almost certainly killed off quite a few brain cells. But I avoid Splenda/sucralose as if my life depends on it. Actually, I think my mental health does depend on it.

Back when Splenda first came out, I bought into the hype and tried it. It was awesome! You could bake with it! It tasted just like sugar! It was MADE from sugar, so it was just like sugar, but better (it's actually some sort of chlorinated sugar)! I even got Mr. Snarky to try it, and he hates all the "next great things" I try to foist on him (often with good reason - thank goodness one of us is a skeptic). And he liked it, too! We weren't using a ton of it - mostly just replacing sugar in our coffee and tea, along with sugar-free gum and the occasional diet soda. Aaaaand then things got weird. We fought. A lot. We were really moody and inexplicably emotional. There was a lot of crying and door slamming for no good reason and we both thought we were losing our minds.

After researching some of our symptoms online, I found people with similar stories about how sucralose had the same effect on them (along with a host of other complaints). Yes, I know, I could probably find a website that says rainbows are dangerous and kittens cause cancer, but if you use Splenda (or feed it to your kids/family) and feel a bit wonky sometimes, cut it out of your diet for a week or a few weeks and see what happens. I'm sure that many people can tolerate sucralose just fine, but I'll bet there are probably some people out there like me who used it and and went a little bonkers. This post is for you.

This has been a Twitarded public service announcement. And don't look for those deceptively happy-looking little yellow packets in the sugar caddies in the Twitardia Diner, twatwaffles. You'll get agave nectar and you'll like it.

BUT IS HE SINGLE?!

We are starting a new segment of the blog for all you ladies (and the stray gent) looking for love. Actually, this is more for your mothers who keep asking when you're settling down and getting married and making grandbabies and did she ever introduce you Mrs. Fletchstein's son next door? He's a nice boy. This is for those moms (and aunts and co-workers) who can overlook any character flaw (Serial killers need love too!) because your ovaries are turning into a dying star that will suck the entire family line into its black hole. At least now you can point to these fine candidates and say, "I'm working on it, Ma!"

The Smoking Gun is a good place to troll for chronically single—and recently single—people. I stumbled across a series of mug shots with a particular type of tattoo. A tattoo can be sexy. It says, "I'm tough and a little bit of a badass." Now, a FOREHEAD tattoo says, "I'm tough with a hint of completely and utterly deranged." Check out this fine specimen.

Please don't click to enlarge. Trust me when I say those are bible scriptures on his forehead. Let that sink in a minute.

As you can see, this handsome fella has more than one mug shot. He's added to his forehead billboard (foreboard?) over time. It answers the question of WWJD? According to this guy, he would beat some asses down and steal their shit. Just because he has been arrested for assault and battery and larceny, doesn't mean you should pass over this gentleman with the winning pedophile smile (hereafter referred to as the "Pedosmile").

Don't all you ladies jump on him at once though. For one thing, I'm pretty sure he's harboring diseases and we need to keep that shit contained. Rest assured we will continue to bring these exciting dating opportunities to your attention so everyone has a chance to meet their serial killer Prince Charming.