Sunday, January 27, 2013

Pajamas With Fox Feet.

In My Life...
 This weekend has been a little busy. Thus I am just going to tell you about my life this weekend. As if this was an internet diary that wanted to hear all about me, and not a bunch of people out there who are very bored right now.  
“Your school doesn't have fraternities or sororities that is probably good because it means that you don’t waste a lot of time on absurd traditions like strip-pong-outside-in-the-mist-of-a-blizzard, right?”
Wrong. I just spent my weekend building a boat out of cardboard for the sake of a strange traditional trivia game.
Nope. No crazy things here.

Other noteworthy events in my life:
I bought a bottle of whiskey that cost 40 dollars and a pajama onesie with feet that look like foxes.

This is my first time buying one bottle of alcohol extremely disproportionate to my means.
It has its own printed wrapping paper, which says: “your money…is gone”
Its own cussing paper.

Look at the paper.

Unfortunately the whiskey is not for me, it is to bribe judges during Trivial Quadrivial Pursuit. 
Fortunately this means people will potentially help me pay for it.
I picked it using my impeccable judgment for fine spirits. (Which is also called: stalking a BevMo employee and asking which costly bottle of booze would impress some 40 year old dudes.)  

Woe to self: the booze is not for me. "I am happy because I am poor, " she told herself.
"Kiss me." said Glenlivet.
"You are way above my financial  level and illegally below my age level (aged 15 years), but I cannot resit giving you a kiss." she said.
 A love story.
This picture brought to you by Forty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents (oh my cuss really!!!).
 I can still take this picture and imagine what it is like to be rich. Except usually the wealthy wear deep red bathrobes made of something like the only scarlet saber tooth tiger to exist ever, not onesies with fox feet and button eyes.

Lightly menacing.
 I am confused about the foxes, are these pajamas trying to insinuate that they are foxy? Rather, they appear to be the opposite of foxy in all of the ways possible. Imagine saying "hey baby" to somebody in this.....op. Hold on. Looks like I just found out what I will be doing next weekend.

Also I made this:

Shark Fin
Thank you Rebecca Lemieux for taking these pictures and putting up with my enthusiasm for this hat.

It is a shark costume.
There is a dorsal fin, straight up on my head.
It is made of cardboard.
As soon as I made it I ran down the hall to my friends dorm room like a puppy that is about to pee on everything from sheer joy.
I was ecstatic, until I began to wonder if I had reached peak awesomeness as an artist and it was all downhill from here. I might spend the rest of my pathetic existence looking longingly back to this moment.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Sea Monster

Cephalopod in a bathtub.
Having a good time.
Telling Rubber Duckie all of his secrets. (It is a rule that one must tell all of their secrets in the bathtub, so that your family can hear you talking to yourself and be totally weird-ed out. I make up all my jokes in the bathroom, jokes are really another form of telling my secrets. I think that I am my funniest in front of the bathroom mirror at home. Not even kidding, I am less funny in front of my bathroom mirror at school. It doesn't even make sense.)
Returning to said Cephalopod:
He is totally freaking stunned when he realized that he is massacring a crew of innocent miniature sailors.

Friday, January 18, 2013

I am having a good week.

It has been a cussing good couple of days you guys, cluster cussing good.
Out-smile the Cheshire cat good.
Second day of wearing the same pair of jeans good.
Alyosha freaking Karamazov good.

1) Oh Noa featured me in Funny Bitch Friday. I am totally flabergastedly honored. Check out her site, it has many funny escapades of awesome:

2) Also, Mama Bread Baker of (also way for good times to be had by y'all) featured me in her "Spotlight's On You" post.

I sit here teary eyed in front of my laptop in the library beaming a huge smile at a sophomore across from me in the computer room who does not know my name and is totally creeped out by my Disney princess on crack cocaine glow. That was an outstanding run-on sentence.
Its like the internet kinda likes me and wants to be my friend...I love you too the internet, I love you too (footnote: by the internet I mean the aforementioned bloggers who are awesome).

Its like the internet fairy is with me.

3) I am officially the first female Trivial Quadrivial Pursuit Captain ever.
I think this might require some explaining. Every year at the very Catholic School which I attend we have an all school trivia game on the feast day of our patron Saint Thomas Aquinas (Look at me know all this Catholic stuff! I am a veritable wealth of religious knowledge!). The whole school divides up into three teams led by three captains, one of whom is yours truly. The school web page does its best to explain this tradition via slideshow:
Pretty much I have to improv it up while attempting to be intelligent at the same time. Hopefully it will be awesome and I will be able to post a video for you.
This is why it's kinda a big deal: the captains for this have been men for all 40 years of this school's existence, until me (Eat that, overemphasized gender stereotypes about comedians).

Lame people: "Ovaries aren't funny."
Yes they are. Mine happen to be cussing more-different-cuss hilarious.

I also just like to be the first of things ever.

4) We have had two classes canceled in two days, it is a most acceptable drought of academic excellence. I have senior-itus real bad.

Foreshadowing of events to come: I shall post a cartoon on Sunday. I know that you will like it because people keep asking me to see it when I work on it in class...I mean, um, I don't work on it in class.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Tardy New Year's Resolutions

I shall begin by inquiring throughout the land as to what my New Year’s resolutions must needs be.

Yes, these resolutions are a little late precisely thirteen days after New Years but this gives me time to ask other people what their resolutions are and pilfer them should they prove to be interesting.
a) “ I am going to be a responsible person and go to the bank sometimes”

…Nope. No way. I hate the bank. All the people sit behind the indestructible glass, overdressed in their suave business clothes. They look at you hungrily like they can see a hologram of your ginormous student loan floating over your head, and they think to themselves, “hate us with all of your might young slave, but our company still owns your soul.” And out loud they ask you, “Would you like to talk to one of our representatives about a mortgage?”

b) “I am going to wear clown shoes everywhere I go.”
 Yup. Down.

Also one could hand out their address to local community members to see if anyone else has New Year’s Resolutions for you. Let’s see if anyone responded to my requests for critique.

  1. The first letter, from Professor Dinkens:
Dear Liz,  please stop writing joke answers to test questions. You are going to fail and you are never going to get on the front page of Imgur or Reddit.

  1. The second letter, from Whei-Foo (Asian owner of local doughnut store):
Please stop pretending that you are Gollum and your doughnut is the one ring. I have received numerous complaints from other customers that you whisper, “my precious” repeatedly. These valued clients also complain that you are, and I quote: “more scary than 99% of homeless people despite your vaguely hygienic appearance”. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, but also a hairs breadth away from being an obsessive compulsive serial killer. Stop creeping people out. Also catching “the one doughnut” in pretend slow motion on your finger was not even interesting once and has really lost its charm after the 27th time. (Aside: this is a good New Year’s resolution for subsequent Hobbit movies as well)

  1. The third letter, from The Collective Student Body of Thomas Aquinas College:
Dear Abnormally Tall Non-Catholic Person: Please stop sitting on the center of the lunch tables in the cafeteria. You cannot have a whole table to yourself, even if it is the best way possible to deter other students from joining you. The policy of this college is to force losers like you to meet other people through the “be social or starve” program. Your circumlocution of our attempt to create a better community is infuriating.   

Seeing as suggestions from other people have not been helpful, I am going to ignore them.  

New Year’s Resolutions: The Final Final Draft
 (because final drafts are never final until you die)

1.       By next year be so skinny that you are easily mistaken for Jack Skellington.
Difficulty level: Nigh impossible.
Revised according to realistic expectations to the following: By next year I will be able to touch my toes.
Plan of action:
Regular stretching or yoga is not an option since I am too lazy to do either.
I Therefore resolve to shave my legs in the shower instead of in the bathroom sink, in order to avoid growing ankle muffs of hair I will have to stretch enough to reach close-ish to my toes.  

2.      To promote Seize the Absurd like an internet junkie
Difficulty level: fortunately for me, I am already addicted to the internet so spending time on it is not the problem…however, spending an eternity on Imgur is not actually getting more people to read my blog.

Plan of action: write an inspiring note on the back of my notebook

The sharpie might have gone to my head.

3.      To stop wielding jokes like a double edge-ed sword:
         Jokes as an offensive strategy.

           *The Fine Print: Please, please like me. I swear I am confident and not an introvert who would love               to be standing in the corner talking to the wall. 

          Jokes as a defensive strategy:

          *The Fine Print: defensive jokes are capable of deflecting candid conversations and simultaneously   constructing porcelain friendships in one go. 

         4. I am going to wear clown shoes everywhere I go.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

4 Terrifying Criminals With Bad Hair Cuts.

1.  James Holmes 
Criminal activities: that one guy that shot up a theater in Colorado

Evidence:  a) Terrible hair. Should his hair stylist also be prosecuted?
                b) Crazy. You ruined movie theaters for everybody. You suck.
                c) True story.

2. Anton Freaking Chigurh from No Country for Old Men.
Criminal activities: uncountable 

Rules of the story: if you see this man, you will die. 

 "Welcome to platform cuss and three quarters, this is the end of the line for you."

Evidence: a) Has an atrocious hair cut. 

For your trivial knowledge collection, IMDB says: 
"Joel Coen and Ethan Coen used a photo of a brothel patron taken in 1979 as a model for Anton Chigurh's hairstyle. When he saw his new haircut Javier Bardem said 'Oh no, now I won't get laid for the next two months.' The Coens responded by happily high-fiveing; Bardem's response meant Chigurh would look as creepy as they had hoped" 
                b) Is as scary as hell
                c) Not part of a true story, but I still expect him to show up and kill me. 

I am pretty sure the Netflix description for No Country for Old Men should go like this, "A man with a bad hair cut runs around killing people in a relentless and completely unstoppable fashion". He is such a creeper that you can feel his presence frames before he appears. 
        I watched No Country for Old Men by myself. I was working at school over the summer and I was the only person living in a deathly silent empty dorm. Eyes wide I stared into the darkened laundry room and contemplated the possibility of my corpse whirling around, set on tumble dry low.

A last ditch attempt to avoid imminent death should I ever see this man:
I flip a coin first?
... hoping that I have good luck and he is as attached to his rules as Javert. 

3. Guy Fieri
Criminal Activities: being annoying

    a) bad hair- it is rumoured that Fieri's hair is an anachronism stolen from the backstreet boys and brought  to the present via time travel
    b) Crazy
    c) has not yet killed anyone that we know of.
Guy, "try this meat it's great, tastes like albatross!"

4. Me, Liz Rosema:  television addict, cartoonist,writer
Criminal activities: Loiters in Walmart and Shopping Malls, improving her self-esteem by idiot watching.

That is a flattering picture.

 I look like an orange Alfalfa.

Evidence: a) Bad hair
                b) Crazy
                c) I am not a killer. I swear on my poncho which I love with my whole heart.

In an unfortunate accident previously described, ( I celebrated my birthday by starting an explosion near my face. As a result I ended up with the fashionable look popular in war zones: chemistry experiment gone very wrong. The front of my hair has spent several months growing back slowly. As it does my "likely to be a creeper factor" shot up to the exosphere where it is hanging out with the satellites.
I feel like I should wear a shaming sign that says, "I attempted to cut my hair by means of fireball". Conclusion: It appears that my barber shop chain named Hair Cut By Fire will not be met by financial success, or safety regulations.

P.S. To all two of my dedicated readers: I am returning to my academic insane asylum and my Sunday posting schedule.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Blogging frustrations: It Is Hard to Seduce the Internet

And now: a rant about the internet brought to you by the internet.

The internet is an exhausting place.
        On every "promote your blog website" (it is my personal belief that there are more blogs about blogs than blogs about anything else) a humble blogger is commanded to join approximately a million sharing sites. Thus, I have spent the last eternity joining: imgur, reddit, linked in, technorati, stumbleupon, tumblr (which mocks me by its privation of the letter e), as well as rededicating my life to twitter and attempting to get an rss feed. The internet might have eaten my soul.

Are you possibly experiencing blogophilia - an obsessive love and addiction to blogging?
Here are 3 common symptoms of blogophilia:

  1. Subject is unable to part with computer, even attempts to bring it with them into the bathroom. Check: I think I spent all three weeks of Christmas vacation on the internet. I am surprised that my eyes don't glow in the dark like little luminescent computer screens. Hunched over near the screen I mutter, "my own, my precious...pageviews".
  2. Subject fears computer code. Check: The letters "html" throw me into a violent state of shock and trembling fear.
  3. Subject envisions throwing popular internet icons into a junk heap. Check: I am going to draw a picture of this. Maybe it will make me feel better.

Twitter is unsympathetic to my plight.

You have 0 and 1/2 followers on twitter.

But the internet fairy is bipolar and can down vote you to oblivion on a whim.

I feel like the unsuccessful pied piper of the internet

If you are thinking right now, "the pied piper is a really creepy story", you are correct.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Rose Parade: I Spy Tubas.

 RHXBA78NTZC8 (hi don't mind my nonsense  I am a blog claim code)

Happy New Year. Every year on New Years Day Pasadena hosts the Rose Parade, which we have been going to for as long as I can remember. I wrote an I spy about it, here you go. (Yes I will do more cartoons soon. I have been such a cheater over the holidays.)

I love marching bands.
I have never been in a marching band. I have all of zero musical talents.
In my imagination, however, I am on the drum line. (News you can't use: playing the tuba would be my second choice. Additionally, if I was to be magically infused with the ability to play a stringed instrument I would pick the banjo, or chello).

Yay. Tubas.
And now, I spy: Rose Parade edition.
I spy with my little eye, a big fat lie.
Actually this is not a lie. I have attempted to provide photographic documentation of my strange findings.

I spy: trouble for anyone allergic to flowers. Over 500,000 flowers are used in the Rose Parade.

I spy: a marching band wearing clogs. They shuffled the entire Rose Parade route. This supports the popular trend, "not wearing wooden clogs when one desires to walk about ten miles".

I spy a gravy boat. Ha! No really. I think that is quite clever. There might be something wrong with me.
Every time I look at it I am happy.
Food for thought: Why the cuss are they called gravy boats anyway?

        I spy a Bulldog in a coat. 

I spy a homeless marching band. No wait, its just Stanford.

I spy an energetic marching band from El Salvador. The marching bands from El Salvador, Mexico, and Japan were awesome. Success brought to you by: various and sundry other countries.

I spy: bedazzled horse hooves

I spy: a courageous Mongolian looking man
He must have been cold, but at least he was a very popular person in the parade. If one lacks the courage to run ten miles semi-nude, how can they expect to become glorious? That was a deep question. Everybody stop and consider it. 

I also saw: a poodle in a centurion costume, 
a tricked out tractor,
and a million bad color guard uniforms.

As well as the ever popular pooper scoopers:

I am not sure mom appreciates my photographic genus.
 No I could not take a picture of something nice.