Tuesday, August 2, 2011

I Have Ended the Tyranny of Adsense!

You know what's been aggravating the crap out of me lately? All the bullshit ads all over my fucking blog.

I don't know who convinced me to get into bed with Adsense. I get absolutely nothing out of it. They get to cover my page in ads that are, at best, completely annoying and, at worst, kind of offensive and antithetic to my mission around here (self-indulgence mostly, but also feminism and green-living). There have been more than a few that made me wince at their anti-feminist leanings. There were a few that advertised meat products - yes, really. The only thing I get in return is a whole bunch of junkmail at my actual real live home that trying to sell me google advertising. Dicks.

So fuck you, Adsense. Fuck the fake blogger who really worked for Adsense who convinced me it would increase my page views and pay me tall stacks of cash. Fuck your littering all over the place, cramming 8 or 9 ads per blog post on here. I deleted all your garbage this morning and now the 3 people who read this blog and I don't have to look at it anymore.

Adsense is a bunch of weiners,

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Let's Talk About Vegetarians and Superheroes


Who gave meat-eaters the crazy idea that all vegetarians just lose their shit for Portobello mushrooms? Really, someone please tell me who is behind this conspiracy so I can smack them in their stupid faces.

For the record: I am a vegetarian. I have always been a vegetarian.

This does not mean I care about little animals, or support PETA (although I do support them, but more about that later), or want to convert all you meat-eaters out there to my cause. I don't have a cause and I don't care what you eat unless you've taken something that I wanted. I am not depriving myself of delicious carcasses because I think all that mess is completely revolting. Hey, more for you guys, right? Someone has to eat all those cows that get skinned for my shoes and handbags and furniture. You want to eat animals? So what, you like to eat gross things. I think olives are gross too.

I also do not like veggie burgers. So they taste just like real burgers, you say? That sounds horrible. Why would I like fake meat any more than real meat if they taste so similar.

Granted, there are some breeds of vegetarian that can't get enough of fake meat products. Tofu dogs, fake chicken nuggets, veggie burgers, tempeh, setan! Here's the thing, folks: THESE ARE THE POLITICAL A-HOLES WHO WANT TO CONVERT YOU TO THEIR CAUSE. These are the vegetarians that are depriving themselves of something they obviously want and miss so they can espouse their high-minded ideals. And hey: I don't have anything against high-minded ideals EXCEPT when your high-minded ideals make a good chunk of the population assume that I am some judgemental, self-righteous dick who expects everyone to change their lifestyle because I'm sitting here shaming them.

Political vegetarians make me nuts and there are so many of them nowadays. You know why? Because being a vegetarian is EASY now. Every restaurant has vegetarian options right there on the menu and (I really can't stress this enough) people are not shocked by the concept of not eating meat. They might make stupid quips along the lines of "oh my god, aren't you just DYING for a burger sometimes?!", but they understand that vegatarians exist. When I was just a tiny devil, this was not the case. If I went to a nice restaurant with my family, I got to have a small dinner salad or have my mother try to convince the kitchen to make something off the menu. People are so much more entitled these days, they don't think much of making all sorts of demands of any service person. But back in the day (this wasn't even all that long ago as I'm not very old), this was not a commonplace practice. And the staff would still treat me like I had three heads because the chances were good that they had never encountered a vegetarian before.

So here is my advice to vegetarians:
- Stop expecting everyone to cater to you or magically know that you're a vegetarian without telling them
- If you are invited to a barbeque, bring a vegetarian dish that EVERYONE can enjoy. Pasta salad, potato salad, chips, desserts. Don't just bring some gross veggie burgers for yourself or sit and pout because they weren't provided for you by the host. Have you heard that everyone hates a vegetarian? I'm talking about building bridges, people.
- If you are a vegan, just don't tell anyone about it. They will hate you immediately and with good reason.

And here is my advice to meat-eaters:
- Stop asking me if I'm dying for a hamburger.
- When finding out that I've never eaten meat, don't say "You mean you've never had a delicious hamburger once in your life?" Seriously? Not filet mignon, not a $50 T-bone - fucking hamburger. Up until fairly recently (the advent of the fast food lifestyle), hamburger was peasant food. You're all fucking peasants, cut it out.
- If you know vegetarians are coming over for a meal and you want to pick up something special for them, take a second to inquire if they like veggie burgers or portobello mushrooms first please. Now, I was raised to have fine manners and I would never ever ever fail to be polite at someone's home to which I have been invited. And if you've gone to the effort of getting a special food product to cater to my eating habits, then I will do nothing other than act delighted and eat as much of it as I can force down. But again, in the spirit of bridge-building, don't just assume that all vegetarians love veggie burgers and portobello mushrooms.

Now that we're all friends, let's have a brief discussion about PETA


People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals is a political organization known for ridiculous stunts and extreme political views. People Who Are Not Very Smart (a political group that encompasses nearly all Republicans and a solid number of meat-loving liberals) just can't stand them. Can you believe the latest crazy thing that crazy PETA did?!? Who could possibly accept the ideas of a group whose values are just so outrageous?!?

Guess what? NOBODY. Not even the people in PETA. Not even the people in charge of PETA.

Here's what PETA does: they take everything to the logical extreme. And their extremes are really extreme. And ridiculous and totally out there.

Here's the funny part: PETA does not want you to agree with them.

PETA wants you to demonize them as total extremist wackjobs. The funny thing that happens is that people are willing to accept the more reasonable change when there is someone is demanding a huge change. This is what PETA is actually trying to accomplish - the moderate change - and they are remarkably good at what they do.

So please carry on clutching your pearls everytime PETA enagages in their nutty antics, that's how they get the job done.


The sexy beast in the header picture up there is called Phoenix Jones. This is not the name his mother gave him and he didn't come out of the womb with that outfit on (well, probably not). Phoenix Jones is a real life superhero who lives and heroes in Seattle, WA. I'm not going to do some trend piece on the emergence of real life superheroes: I don't discuss the trends, I set them. What I want to do is make you feel bad about yourself.


1.) He wears an awesome costume

It doesn't look comfortable or breathable but it is bullet-proof and stab-proof. You just mull that over while you're hanging out in your revolting Crocs because your little toesies can't even handle proper shoes.

2.) He is the leader of a 10 member superhero group

Phoenix is the head of the Rain City Superheros: 9 other awesomely costumed, crimefighting badasses. You aren't. Do you even have a secretary?

3.) He risks his life and safety to do the job the cops aren't

I live in a neighborhood that has a lot of drug trade. Drug trade is crime and it leads to other crime, particularly the violent sort. What do the cops do? Nothing really. They ignore it. The neighborhoods that Phoenix Jones operates in have far worse drug trade and violent crime than my neighborhood and he's trying to do something about that. He confronts drug dealers and tells them that they need to get their trade off the streets. When was the last time you told a drug dealer to get the hell off your block?

4.) He helps people who need help instead of assuming someone else will do it

We've all heard the stories of people attacked on city streets while people just walk by and do nothing. If you haven't heard these anecdotes, step away from the blog and go pick up a newspaper already. Phoenix Jones sees this crap going on and he gets right in the middle of it. He's had his nose broken, he's been stabbed, but he just keeps going at it because he wants so badly to do SOMETHING to help people.

5.) He is a hero in his real life paying job

As I sit languishing in my climate-controlled office writing blogs, ordering books on Amazon, and reading dumb crap on the internet, Phoenix Jones does social work.

6.) Phoenix Jones is under 25 years old

According to the reasonably legitimate information I've culled on this guy, he is no older than 23. At 23, my biggest accomplishment on any given evening was hitting some bars with my friends. A good portion of the people I know were/are still living with their parents at 23 years old. I know half a dozen people that hadn't even finished college by the age of 23, even though they had been attending full-time since they were 18. Phoenix Jones is 23 and he's a fucking superhero.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Things That Sound Like Jokes But Are Not Jokes

Apparently, my office is infested with feral cats.

This does not appear to be absurd gossip of the sort that I like to spread around the office (ex. My coworker, Brian, is a costumed crimefighter after hours ala Phoenix Jones). I caught a conversation this morning amongst the facilities guys and some administrators discussing the issue and complaining about how the exterminator they called in to deal with the issue did a crap job of inspecting the building. For feral cats. FERAL CATS IN THE BUILDING.

I haven't seen any cats in my office or roaming the neighborhood in cat gangs. I would definitely notice something like that. I'll keep you posted on new developments as I receive them.

Head-scratchingly yours,


I can hardly breathe and the guy who sits next to me has been sneezing all day - we're both allergic to cats. There may be some truth to this completely preposterous idea.

Aggravations & General Nonsense

I'm really terribly bored today, guys, so I will spend some time disseminating my particular brand of wisdom on the internet (disclaimer: nothing contained in this blog is intended to be at all wise. Well, maybe the fashion tips)


I work a day job!

Yeah, yeah, yeah: you're saying to yourself "But Jillian, you're the devil! It sounds so uncool for the devil to have a day job" annd, trust, I agree with you. But that doesn't necessarily make my dayjob some Dilbert-esque Office featuring Steve Carrell and Rainn Wilson sad-sack operation. We have a corporate chef who appears on reality cooking shows, an in-house masseuse, company outings that involve everyone getting absolutely shitfaced as a rule, and tons upon tons of hot dudes. Admittedly, the hot dudes here aren't of the tattooed loud-music-loving variety of which I am fond. Many of them are pretty douchey. On their off-hours, I picture them wearing polo shirts [I hate polo shirts, but more about that later] with plaid shorts and loafers without socks. Just terrible. But a good-looking man is a good-looking man and I appreciate some pleasant scenery while I'm toiling away at the office. Now, I'm not going to tell you what company I work for or the industry I'm in. Anyone who can manage a google search with some degree of finesse could probably figure it out from the info above and I have a (nominally) professional image to uphold.

Where was I going with all this? Ah yes: I'm bored today because business is slow so I'll give in to the pathetic and incessant pleas of my millions of fans and write something new for the page. Just kidding: no one reads this garbage and I only do it to feed my incredible narcissism.


Why on earth would anyone wear a garment so ridiculously hideous? WHY?!?!?!?! The putrid soft collar, the disgusting placket with plastic buttons, the icky little banded sleeves that create an apallingly fey blouson effect. Seriously, you want to wear a sleeve that gay, why half-ass it? Wear a fucking pirate shirt or something lacy ala romance novel covers. I can respect that. Hell, I encourage it. Which brings me to my next point:


No, I'm not drunk right now.

I'm sick of how men dress in America. It is so unbelievably dull. Polo shirts (hoooaaaaaarrrrrrrrkkk - that was me barfing), poorly tailored slacks, nearly all athletic shoes currently on the market, cargo shorts, button-down shirts worn without ties on a consistent basis, and nearly everything in a palette of blue/brown/grey. You guys are freaking killing me. Just looking around my office right now, I see 7 dudes in beige slacks and light blue shirts. Gentleman, know this: I want to set your homes on fire so everything in your closets will burn up and you will be forced to purchase new attire. But that doesn't really tackle the issue as you'll just go buy more beige pants and light blue shirts. I hate you for this.

The International Male Catalog (if you are unfamilar, #1 What is wrong with you? and #2 This is what google is for) has panache. In spades. Plenty of panache to spare to your light blue polo shirted lame butt. Suit jackets in bright colors with 3/4 length hems! Crocodile loafers in bright colors to match your insane suit! PIRATE SHIRTS! And a men's underwear collection guaranteed to cause anyone who sees you in them to make fun of you to their friends at the earliest possible opportunity.

Yes, people will talk. They will call you crazy. They might call you gay (which is a compliment because everyone knows that gay men are super snappy dressers). But some, ahem, unconventional gear like that does say "I'm here to participate". Your polo shirt, emphatically, does not.



If you live in Chicago, you need to be eating at Sultan's on a regular. Other things at Sultan's that are delicious: tabboule, jerusalem salad, zatter fettia sandwich, spinach pie.

Vegan Pad Thai!

You know what's totes gross in any sort of veggie and noodle dish? Eggs. Gross. Tonally off. I'm not against eggs as a rule, although I'm terribly suspicious of their motives. I just don't think they work outside of your standard breakfast preparations. And since I'm such a giver, and extremely METAL to boot, I present to you...


[The embed is not functioning. Not very metal, my friends]

Personally, I like to drop some snowpeas and pineapple in it too. Spicy grilled pineapples are truly truly truly outrageous (Jem!). The Vegan Black Metal Chef is the very antithesis of polo shirts, by the way.


I just like cheese, you got a problem with that?

That's enough ranting for now, stay tuned for all new dumb bullshit this week like:

- Movie reviews! Have you seen Coming to America? It's terrific!

- Me complaining about how people dress themselves! Just joshing, you guys all look fantastic (snort)

- More talking about food! Everyone hates a vegetarian, or haven't you heard?

Until next time,

The Devil

Monday, July 27, 2009

What the hell is with air guitar?

Hello everybody!

I'm extremely sleepy today because I was out all day yesterday being extremely awesomely metal. How metal, you ask?

Well, we went to see SLAYER. Slayer is the freaking jam. They ruled the school. They had awesome explosions and various awesome flaming setpieces and awesome long hair and they headbanged in an awesome way. In a word: it was AWESOME.

Also awesome:


They too played the show! We were getting absolutely baked in the copious sunshine (and those of you that know me know that I look like an underground cave creature who's never before seen sunlight) and shoved up against sweaty strangers, but Cannibal Corpse brought some serious rock to that venue. They aren't Slayer-level awesome, but they did a fine job nonetheless. Kudos and extra props to the lead singer for being quite charming with the crowd.

Now, you know how it goes around here: you rarely get sweet without a little (a lot) of the salty. So....


1.) Marilyn Manson


Bitch did not even try. I'm not wild about the music of Marilyn Manson but you can usually count on that character for a decent stage show. Granted, we were sitting on the lawn at a big amphitheatre but dude wasn't even dressed crazy. He flailed around the stage while the elaborate lighting burned our retinas out and, whenever there was a break in the musical proceedings, just screamed "CHICAGO!!!" at the crowd. That shit is just cheap. Yeah, people will probably scream at a rock show regardless of what the act is shouting at them, but I would at least like some effort at amusement or originality. I also think that Manson was innebriated in some fashion. Admittedly, the band does do a song about cocaine and rock music has a long and illustrious history with chemical abuse. However, I do have to draw the line when it is so deleterious to the performance. It was crappy. Slayer played just before Manson and they killed (hee, pun intended). Manson came on, didn't even play for 40 minutes, and sucked ass like a was a melting popsicle. We left before they finished, but the early reviews from others in attendance were not dissimilar to mine.

2.) Chicks dressed in various inappropriate fashions

What part of "we will be outside, in the daytime, at a music festival, outdoors, where there are very few chairs and likely we will be sitting on the ground" says "I should totally wear a corset, a miniskirt and spike heels". From what I can tell, that would be the opposite of what you should wear for that type of event. Some things are evening-wear only and anything involving a corset definitely falls into that category. Also in the hideous fashion column:

  • Girls wearing bras around like they are shirts. They are not shirts. If they were shirts, they would be called "shirts" and not "bras".
  • Girls wearing heels they can't walk in. Looking terribly awkward and/or in pain is not what anyone should be going for in their sartorial endeavors.
  • Girls wearing enormous platform boots when they don't have the frame to pull that look off. If you're tall and buxom, it works because there is some balance there. If you are tiny, you just look like a tiny girl with giant mutant feet.
  • Cheap-looking crocheted, cropped halter tops sold by vendors at the event. These are hideous, absolutely horrible, yet I saw more than one girl who purchased said item and changed into it. What? You didn't look hideous enough when you arrived? I think you probably did, no need to elaborate on it.

3.) Sweaty strangers

Ewww. Ew.


Words can't describe how much air guitar irritates me. I hate it, I don't understand the compulsion to do it, and it makes everyone look like a fucking moron. There isn't really an instrument there, so it's not like you're providing some valuable assistance to the band. Moreover, it's not like this "air guitar", when translated onto an actual instrument, would provide the correct notes. The air guitar mutants are just flailing about! The worst is when folks do the half-assed air guitar ala a single hand "strumming" on the thigh area. IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE WACKING IT, SO CUT IT OUT.

Also included: air drums, air bass, air jazz flute. I am against the playing of all imaginary instruments.

That's it, I'm too tired to further amuse you. Go fetch me a coffee and I may be willing to negotiate.

Go get a real freaking instrument already,


Wednesday, July 22, 2009


  • I totally saw a hot priest this morning. He was Greek or Italian and looked like a cross between the young priest in The Exorcist and a twink male model.
  • The people of Humboldt Park still enjoy bad music.
  • I think I have new neighbors downstairs in the apartment formerly occupied by the man known as "Freaky-Deeky Neighbor". The nickname is pretty descriptive of his behavior: he was a superfreak and not in a Rick James awesome sort of way.
  • The end is nigh.

Keep it in your pants,


Why does everyone have to be such enormous jackasses all the time?

Ugh, people are so lame. Heterosexual men are the absolute lamest.

Here's the story:

I was at my office yesterday, just doing my thing (being awesome and extremely attractive). I try to keep this blog semi-anonymous; you never know what kind of weirdos you're working with who may have googled you and come upon this little slice of insanity. In the spirit of vagueness, I will only say that I work in a fairly standard office environment with a large sales team of about 60 people. In this business, there are certain vendors that like to ply us with food and booze and tickets to baseball games in attempts to garner our favor. That's super, who doesn't want a free lunch? However, sometimes they take this good-natured bribery in unforseen and undeniably creepy directions.

One particular vendor - I will, for the sake of mystery, call them 'Precise Assemblage' - bought the whole office lunch a few weeks back. The lunch was fabulous but it was merely to distract from the company's sales rep loitering about and annoying everyone in her path. I hate to speak ill of a lady that's just trying to get her sales on, but she is so cloying, so overenthusiastic, so phony that everyone was making efforts to look extra busy so she wouldn't bother them. That was the first instance that characters from Precise Assemblage landed in our office, but not the last.

The first representative of Precise Assemblage singled me out because I order most of the products that we would be getting from this vendor. Fine, I humored her for a few minutes and listened to her spiel. I ended up putting several orders for products through her company, but the products were not delivered and the level of customer service was not acceptable. This is a cut-throat industry and there are plenty of companies that do what Precise Assemblage does, and I was happy to tell them this as I told them they were total crap (in the nicest way possible). Between the original rep and another woman at their office, I must say that they stepped up their game in a significant way since my complaint. I was happy, they were still getting our orders, nothing more to say, correct?

Apparently not. The original representative was back in the office yesterday, along with her boss. I will call him Mr. Smarmy Slick-Haircut. I made every effort to look extremely busy, talk on the phone as much as possible, or put on my headphones in an effort to keep these two jokers away from me. No such luck. Original rep cornered me by the copy machine and I managed to be nice and dismissive. Once I returned to my desk, Mr. Smarmy Slick-Haircut saunters over and exclaims "JILLIAN! So nice to finally meet you!" I have never seen nor heard of this character before, so I am understandably perplexed. He goes on to tell me that his name is [name redacted] and he's the orginal rep's boss and he's heard so much about me. Frightening and weird, especially as I'm sitting at my desk and he's looming over me a bit too close for comfort. I make some crack about him knowing my name because I complained and he goes on and on about how it's imperative to get client feedback and all sorts of other jargony things.

Here's where it becomes embarassing for all persons involved:

Mr. Smarmy Slick-Haircut tells me if I have any problems in the future, I can call him directly. I thanked him and said that the original rep and the other woman at their office were so efficient in handling my concerns that I really had no need to call him. He then goes on to say that I can call him even if I don't have a problem: "Well, you are welcome to call me for good and bad things!". Odd phrasing, I agree. THEN, he presents me with his business card and says....

"My cell phone number is on here, that's the BATPHONE. You can reach me there ANY time."

The Batphone

Mr. Smarmy Slick-Haircut seems to believe he's Batman, which I'm pretty sure is like Highlander in there can be only one. If anyone would like the number to the Batphone, send me an email. The person who sends me the weirdest pickup line wins the prize.

I'll show you a caped crusader,