I have been watching the entire Planet Earth series. I can’t believe it has taken me this long to start watching it. I feel like a total loser. I am just way too late to get into the club and now I am sitting alone on a Saturday night, washing my tights in the sink. Anyway this series was genetically engineered for me. I sit there and watch it on my pathetic laptop, drool flowing out my mouth, and I say out loud HOLY SHIT. Literally, every two seconds, I am saying OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS IS SO AWESOME ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS? And I look over next to me and the chairs are empty because I am by myself. I am sure my neighbor is wanting me to shut my piehole big time. But hey, how about you stop wearing heels in the house and stop listening to Coldplay? Same album, always. The one that sounds like all the other ones.

Anyway my only problem with the series is the writing. They got unbelievable footage but it’s written by a seventh grader who looked up shit on Wikipedia. Part of the problem is that the subject area is very broad, so they mention broad facts that aren’t particularly novel, like 75% of Earth is covered by water! Like yes, dudes, we know. Anyway it could’ve been done so much better. They should’ve asked me to write this whole thing. I would’ve done it for free. FREE LABOR. YES, BBC, FREE. I WOULD EVEN PAY YOU. Call me. I think that will be my next career move. It’s pretty close to what I do for a living, kind of, not really.

So here are my recent favorites.

The plateau pika! Native to Tibet. It’s a relative of the rabbit. Think bunny with small ears. I WANT TO CUDDLE AND NUZZLE IT AND PUT IT IN MY POCKET. They get nice and fat and turn into a loaf of pika. The picture does not do it justice at all.

Here’s the thing that eats the pika, which is also ridiculous.

It’s a Tibetan fox. It has a square head and nice Asiany eyes. It is so dreamy. I can get lost in its eyes forever. Didn’t Eric Carmen right a song about that? I am positive it wants to sit at my feet and keep them warm. It might eat me, but that is the risk I am willing to take. After all, what is life without risks?

I am totally bored of monkeys. So boring. Sorry. People really like monkeys and I did like them, when I was like six and didn’t know better. Ha ha ha, no really. I got bored of them. But then they filmed 150 chimps invading another troop’s territory and then the chimps cannibalized their enemies. Oh yes. Monkeys not so cute now, are they? I don’t mind the cannibalization actually, it is neither here nor there to me, but one of them busted out with a patch of flesh which was basically the face so it got all Silence of the Lambs for a little bit. Sweet. Real life always wins over Sir Anthony Hopkins.

I always root for the predator. Always. They were interviewing this cameraman about how he felt so sad that this shark or seal was going to town on these cute penguins. And I was like listen, penguins entire philosophy is safety in numbers. And while they are cute and blah blah blah I do not like groupthink dynamics. Same with when this tiger was going to town on this mountain goat thing. I’m like dude. There are like six tigers left. Shut up and let her eat. Why must people root for the underdog? As far as I’m concerned if there are only six of you left, you get to eat whatever you want. I kept on going EAT IT EAT IT! GO GET IT! And the narrator was all feeling sad for some gazelle or bison calf. I guess what I mean to say is that I am very verbal when I watch this stuff. Like the way my dad yells at the TV when he’s watching baseball. Yes, I know yelling will not help anything, but guess what? Shut up.

My co-worker just sent me this.

Mike lives in Hawaii. Hawaii is a magical place. Yesterday, we had a meeting. Mike was “there.” I say “there” because he was actually “there,” but in a very virtual fashion. He was trapped inside of a laptop. His head took up the whole screen. When you see Mike in real life, his head is very large. It’s larger than a laptop screen, in fact. But somehow through a complex combination of magic and technology, Mike managed to fit his head inside of the computer. Throughout the meeting I kept on hearing tropical birds in the background. They were taunting me. Oh yeah, chirp chirp, we come in colors other than brown and gray. Chirp chirp. DO YOU WANT A PINEAPPLE? OH YEAH? WELL TOO BAD YOU CITY PRICK. Seriously though, the birds were very loud. Some suit at the meeting asked where Mike was and he said, “out of state.” Someone in the room said “out of the country,” to which I laughed but then remembered that sometimes people forget that Hawaii is a state. It really shouldn’t “belong” to the U.S. it’s disorienting. All I can say is if I lived in Hawaii I’d be telling everyone and their mom. OH YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK? THAT MUST BE NICE BECAUSE I LIVE IN HAWAII. I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU THE WATERFALLS ARE JUST TOO LOUD. YOU KNOW WHAT’S A DRAG? I AM ALLERGIC TO COCONUTS. THERE ARE COCONUTS EVERYWHERE. LIFE IS HARD HERE IN HAWAII.

So then I was thinking that in Hawaii, everything comes with an umbrella. I drew a picture for Mike. I am going to share this picture with you. Keep in mind that I write for a living. If I could draw, I would draw for a living. There is a reason why I do not draw for a living.

To look at this JAM. Warning: You may barf up cute, so wear a bib.

I am here blogging live from Aura’s apartment where I am beast-sitting. The Beast is stirring. Look at this thing. You might think awww what a cute kitty, who’s my wittle pritty witty kitty cat? But don’t be fooled, this is no cat. It is a Beast. Also it keeps sitting in my motherfucking chair you better step off, Beast I will turn you into shoes. I’m not afraid of you, butt licker.

The Feta Shitball Tree is back in full force and it stinks. There are little shitberries everywhere and now it’s really windy which means the shitballs are blowing everywhere. Totally disgusting. It smells just like a sheep climbed a tree, shat in it, and then died. If you guys are curious about what that smells like then I suggest you come here OR take a poop in a tub of feta, feed it to a sheep and wait to see what comes out. Listen, it’s disgusting, I don’t recommend you do that. Please, don’t do it. I just had a thought, do you think feta cheese, which is made of sheep’s milk, tastes like chicken to sheep? Interesting. Anyway, I do believe it’s a ginkgo tree, that is what the locals are saying. Locals meaning Skinny Old Rocker Guy with Big Fro, the Local Coffee Guy who Guest Appears on Law and Order Every Week and Either Plays Bad Guy or the Dead Guy in the Beginning, and the Ancient Italian Man who Does the Crosswords on the Bench Covered by Shitberries. There’s also Unmarried Slightly Lonely Middle Aged Man with Extremely Spoiled Pug. (I’ve seen the pug actually eat directly out of Slight Lonely Middle Aged Man with Extremely Spoiled Pug’s mouth, gag me.) Anyway they are all talking about the Feta Tree. It is very exciting in my neighborhood. A lot of commotion. Also, another local sighting, Mike D of the Beastie Boys! He was heading to AdRock’s house who lives on my street. Sometimes I see him watch TV from the street. He is a big fan of America’s Next Top Model (who isn’t). When you combine all these details it makes my neighborhood sound totally glamorous but remember, it smells like shitberries and my apartment is the size of a shoebox. Nature, FTW!

Listen, I’m very angry right now. I’m not sure how to handle this anger. There’s so much of it. So. Much. Rage.

So I go into Karina’s office because I want snacks. Karina and I have a very special relationship where she buys snacks and I eat them. It’s very sacred, something I hold very dear. She keeps buying snacks and I keep eating them. We’ve been doing this for several years now. Sometimes she is in the office working and I go in, grab my snack, and then leave. I occasionally mutter thanks. Most of the time I demand them. WOMAN SNACKS IN MY BELLY NOW! And she just points to her desk drawers and feeds this monster she calls her friend. Then the next time I come back there are more snacks. We have a very good and special relationship, as I mentioned above.

So this afternoon I go into her snack drawer. The woman keeps two snack drawers. TWO. That is how serious she is about keeping me snacked. She does not fuck around. Karina might take forever to make a decision about where to go to dinner, but when she is at Whole Foods she is in full fledged Wall St. nosedive to the snack aisle. Seriously, get out of her way. FUCKING SNACKS you feel me? So the top drawer has a bag of flaxseed and a box of instant oatmeal. Kashi Oatmeal. Maple and Brown Sugar. That is her “breakfast snacking” drawer. I am unimpressed. The time is almost 3 post meridian, I am not in breakfast snack mode. I am in SNACK SNACK mode. So I open drawer number 2. This is where she keeps the good shit. Last week she had Annie’s Organic Chocolate Graham Bunnies. Holy shit it’s like little chunks of crack cocaine. Heaven in a 100% post consumer waste recycled box. So I am hoping she has more bunnies for me.

I open the drawer and I see a box of Chocolate Brown Rice Krispies Treats (which are good despite the name) and a bag of Soy Crisps, BUT OH MY GOD WAIT THERE ARE HOLES AND LITTLE BITS OF FOOD EVERYWHERE.

Mice.

FUCKING MICE. Attacking my snacks! Thwarting my snacktime! Eating MY snacks that Karina bought FOR ME (her). WTF!!!!! NOOOOO! MY SNACKS! Those fuckers ate it all. They chewed through the box and through the wrappers, leaving a trail of snack behind. I’m so ANGRY at these dumb mammals. Listen, mice, you did not PAY for these snacks. Nor did I but at least I am a human mammal. I work and could conceivable BUY my own snacks, but don’t because I am too lazy. I am also getting “the milk for free” etc. Listen, mice. Do not go near my (her) snacks again or else I will destroy you. I will set out traps and when you are dead I will scream and then have someone else take care of the situation. Because I am human. I have the opportunity to get someone else to handle my situations. Like, for example, my snacking situation.

So long story short, I do not have ANY snacks! No snacks! I’m going to starve, do you understand? Already I am feeling weak.

I also learned an important lesson, which is that mice do not like Kashi instant oatmeal or flaxseed.

My friends Karina and John are getting married this weekend, so I’ll be heading out to the Jersey Shore (pronounced sho-uh) to get drunk, pretend to get shit stuck in my eyes, and refuse to dance to “YMCA”. But I just wanted to say OH DEAR GOOD GOD NEVER EVER EVER GET MARRIED EVER. The amount of work required so that everyone can party is totally insane. I mean get married blah blah, but just, like, do it at Pizza Hut or something. If you do it at Burger King you’ll get a crown, for FREE! None of this eight thousand dollar deposit crap or whatever it is. I don’t even know, I pulled that number out of my ass, but I know Burger King would be cheaper. Anyway, it’ll be fun. There is some kind of beach/water/ocean involved and I believe the couple is getting married underneath a skeleton of a whale. I dunno I’m totally making this shit up. I’m excited! I’m staying at a place that looks like Barbie’s dreamhouse (but in a good way?) and Karina said there will be dolphins. DOLPHINS. In fact she keeps texting me OMG OMG DOLPHINS DOLPHINS. I have not linked her to all the YouTube videos of dolphins trying to sex up people, and vice versa, because I am a classy lady. Anyway I better see a fucking dolphin or I’m totally going to GO OFF. In Canada, I did not see minks or beavers as promised so I’m on high alert for bullshit promises, but I should be used to this since I live in America. But you know what I mean.

I have returned from Canada, where I was conversating with nature. There was this thing called a “lake”, you might’ve heard of it. Totally strange. All this water…like totally surrounded by land. And yet there’s still fish in there and everything. Trees. Rocks. Birds that float in the water. FLOATING BIRDS do you understand? TOTALLY INSANE. What is up with that? And then people ride this thing called “a canoe” where they paddle with very large chopstick things and I was like, but wait, why paddle when you can attach a motor on that shit? Ha ha ha. No really.

The week was spent learning “white skills”. In fact we called it White Assimilation Week. I learned to canoe, play squash, and sail. Squash is fun, I have to say. I’m very shitty at it but I do like to hit things very much. Very satisfying I can see why Paleface likes it. I did not water ski because it looked totally painful like the boat is going to pull your arms off. Maybe white people’s arms can come off, I need to run more tests to find out. But, can it even GET WHITER than sailing? I don’t know. But I had a good time. Sailing is pretty fun, especially when you accidentally throw someone out of the boat without even knowing. All the sudden I turn around and like I’m alone in the boat, Hey! Come back here! Anyway I learned an important lesson: White people sure know how to have fun! Also, stars. There are a lot of them. AT least three or four dozen.

I went hiking too. Lathered myself in so much insect repellent my skin was burning off and I got a spider bite anyway on my arm and it’s all swollen and pussy. Totally disgusting, I do not recommend stepping foot into Canada because the entire country will try to eat you alive. Anyway it sucks to be back. New York City is basically the complete opposite of where I was.

I woke up to find a cockroach in my cabinet. Ugh.

Anyway, I see that Doretta has behaved very well. I’m surprised she didn’t run amok and call everyone assholes. But thanks to Doretta for subbing here at Annietown. She will now go to her regular Canadian Prime Minister of Annietown duties. Doretta your country was beautiful, you’ve done a great job. I hope you are proud, etc.

I am going to Canada on Saturday and will be gone for a bit. There will be trees. Some kind of lake. Many insects. There are talks about “canoeing” and “water skiing” and “going hiking” and “spending time outdoors.” I don’t know about any of that crap. I am more of a “sleeping” and “reading” and “eating” and “spending time indoors where there are no insects and dude is there wireless up there because it is the color of my needs” kind of person. However, I am looking forward to leaving the city. I am told there will be stars. I was like, stars? What’s that? Is that something I can roll into a fatty and smoke? No? Well then I am not interested. I AM NOT INTERESTED, NO SHUT UP. Also, I am told there will be no burritos. This is already the worst vacation ever. I will report more. Maybe I won’t report at all. I’ll be in Canada, I don’t think they have internet.

So instead of leaving Annietown a ghosttown while I am gone, if even just for a short while, Doretta will be GUEST BLOGGING. As many of you know, she is the Canadian Prime Minister of Annietown so it is only fitting that she blogs while I visit her country that has no internet. I don’t know how she’s going to fucking blog here considering Canada has no internet, but she’s smart. I trust her to figure it out. It will be nice to read my blog and not read stuff by me. Because quite frankly, being me is really difficult and sometimes I need a vacation from myself.

I have laid out careful rules for Doretta, which I shall share with you.

1. Do not mess with the site, or I will punch you in the neck.

2. Keep it “in the pants.”

3. You must have one post about Rain, the Justin Timberlake of Korea.

I feel that those rules are fair and just. Now, dear reader, Annietown is a democracy and there is a complicated system of checks and balances. This means that if Doretta violates any of the three rules, then you can impeach her. You do this by calling her horrible, awful names and punching her in the neck (see Rule 1). I will take back her Prime Minister sash. Yes, at Annietown the prime ministers wear sashes. Because it’s festive.

Ahoy!

This gave me a mind boner.