Sudoku Pisses Me Off And Red Wine Makes It Worse

Have you ever attempted the game of sudoku? Basically it's a number puzzle game that really gets you thinking. And it also has the ability to turn you into a pathetic, Jeopardy reject, drunk!

Usually when you buy a book it's divided into 3 sections:

Beginner

Intermediate

Advanced

It's kind of like life, it makes sense, right?

Generally I stick to the 'Beginner' section because it makes me feel smart when I easily finish one of the puzzles in just a few minutes time. I feel great inside and it brings on a false surge of self confidence.

Naturally, I get a little bit of an ego and move on to the 'Intermediate' section. The puzzles are a bit harder, but I'm still capable of completing them, just not as quickly.

When I finally complete that section, I usually yell, "Ha! I am SO a fucking genius! Take that Alex Trebek!"

And then the last section after this is 'Advanced'. This is No Man's Land for me. I wouldn't touch it with a 10 foot pole. Otherwise I end up ripping my hair out, swearing every 3 seconds, and I'd eventually end up lighting my car on fire and throwing the book into the flames like Crazy Harry from The Muppets!

Which instantly gives me back my dignity, but then makes me sad because I have no car to drive...

Well, this is NOT the case with the pocket sudoku book I got for Christmas.

This book has NO sections! It's ALL advanced! God forbid the creator of this particular book would give me a break and let me work my way into an angry fit rather than just throwing me into the pits of insanity right away!!!!!!!!!!!

I bet the creator of this sudoku book said "Oh fuck it, I'm just going to piss off all the fuck-tards that could never make it on Jeopardy!"

Know what makes it even worse? Drinking 2 bottles of red wine while trying to complete it!

Because it leads to this:

Which leads to this:

Which then leads to this:

Which eventually leads to this:

Ok, maybe I can live with that...

Fuck you advanced sudoku and Alex Trebek!

Sea Monkeys: A Review

I don't know why, but I've always wanted sea monkeys. Well to tell you the truth, I've always wanted a sea horse but I knew that was never going to happen. So the next best thing was sea monkeys. I remember seeing advertisements for them in the backs of magazines when I was a kid and wondered what the hell they were. So what are sea monkeys? Brine. Fucking. Shrimp. If I'd had known that as a kid, I would have went to The Great Salt Lake back home and got some for free! Now that I'm miles away from that as a possibility, I guess an overly-priced (€18.99) and overly-rated box of sea monkeys will have to do.

This is what was in my kit:

As you can see, my kit included a little tank with built in magnifying glasses and a ship, a submarine light to see them easier, an oxygenator that supplies their main source of oxygen (which sort of resembles a douche) , a mixing spoon and 3 sachets of sea monkey mix which :::cover your ears Mom::: looked very similar to packages of condoms. It pretty much came with everything but the water. I guess it's kinda worth the €19 now that I think about it. And I'm really excited that my sea monkeys are going to be pirates instead of doctors or astronauts, plus their ship glows in the dark!

(I actually questioned my sanity after seeing this on the box)

There's not much to making sea monkeys. First you put hot water in the tank and add sachet 1 to purify the water. Next, you put in sachet 2, the eggs. *Shudders thinking about it* For a moment I was a bit scared to put in sachet 2, because if you think about it, there's somehow 'live' eggs in there! I also felt like I was playing God. If you've been reading up on my blog, you would know that God and I have been having some issues lately and I didn't feel like pissing him off again so soon. Anyway, I tested my faith and did it. Last is sachet 3, their food. It smelled fresh, like green tea. I think I was expecting to smell something rancid like poop or vomit. I put a tiny bit in and from here on out, I only have to feed them once a week. Thank fuck for that!

So here they are! Can you see them? Yeah, neither can I. The first question that arose after it was all said and done was, "Now what?" As you can see, there's a bunch of particles floating around which kind of looks like someone dipped their dirty ass into it to spite me, swished it around, then left it for you and I to look at, saying "Hey, is that a sea monkey there? I think I see one! No wait, that's just an ass particle..." I wasn't expecting anything spectacular, but at least something I could see!

This is what a sea monkey looks like when it's full grown:

Here are some sea monkey accessories in case you're interested:

A sea monkey locket.......................OF DEATH! Seriously who would buy this for their kids?!? And what little kid would want to wear a necklace full of dead sea monkeys?!?

What the hell is this piece of work you ask? An 'In case you forgot what time it was because you were an asinine idiot and decided to wear a watch with live sea monkeys in it instead of one that actually tells the time' watch? It would be really funny to go up to someone wearing this and ask them what time it was so they could respond, "I don't know, Sea Monkey time?"

Lastly, a sea monkey keychain. WTF? Seriously, how are they supposed to breathe or eat? I actually had the choice to get this or the submarine light, obviously I chose the light. No way in hell would I be toting this around on my keychain! Mostly out of fear that I would accidentally smack it on the door when unlocking it and all the dead sea monkey carcasses would spill all over me!

Overall experience: Unimpressed.

For all those parents who regret having kids, or at least joke about it (even though we know you're serious) you really should have tried sea monkeys out first...It's not what it's cracked up to be! For those of you who will actually get some of these, beware, for something you can barely see, it's really annoying having to help them breathe every single day and feed them once a week.

However crappy this experience may have been, I'll keep you guys updated on them! This will be somewhat fun to see how big they get before I flush them down the toilet or eat them for lunch!

Even God Hates My Blog

For those of you who don't already know, I've made a fan page for my blog on Facebook. So far only 3 people are fans aside from myself, my mom and Paul. I'm quite disappointed. Little do people know, I'm leaving everything in my will to my fans. Mom, I leave you my stuffed unicorn. Polly, I leave you my recipe books. Koddie, you can have my permanent marker. Sabina, take care of my annoying plant. And last but not least, Paul, I'd like to leave you my blog. Can I also make a request to be frozen like Walt Disney please?



Not only that, finding people who write the same kind of crap that I do isn't as easy as I thought it would be. Paul asked me how my quest was going and our conversation went a little something like this:

Paul: So, how's your blog thing coming along?

Me: You mean my quest? Shitely.

Paul: Another new word you made up?

Me: Tis.

Paul: Well success doesn't happen over night, you have to work for it.

Me: I've been crazy my entire life, surely it should pay off by now!

***Silence***

Me: Hey, I have an idea! Lets go get trained on flying falcons! It can be one of our date nights!

Paul: The actual bird?

Me: What the hell else would you think of when I say 'falcon'?

Enough said. (More to come on flying those crazy falcons in the near future)

I was feeling pretty low so I decided to bake some brownies. Paul has never had a brownie before, WTF? I repeat, WTF?!?! He'll probably tell you he has, but that's a lie. He thinks anything that's chocolatey with a cakey texture is a brownie. News flash, that's a fucking chocolate cake Paul! As much as I love him, sometimes I think he uses being from Ireland as an excuse to piss me off about things such as this. Anyway, the brownies turned out to be delicious but not too pleasing on the eye. Basically, the batch came out looking like a big pile of giraffe shit in a baking pan. I did my best to cut them into squares but lets put it this way, if I were to give them as a gift, I would just tell the giftee that Helen Keller cut them for me. (Note to self: Helen Keller is an excellent scapegoat for fucking up on anything that involves the use of one or more of the senses.)

Not only was I feeling low, the brownies made me feel fatter than fat. Hmmm, maybe going to the gym would make me feel better? On my way into town on the train, a couple of girls wearing tracksuits asked for my help. One was slurring as if she had a little too much to drink (getting drunk actually sounded a bit appealing after immediately sucking at my blog quest) and the other had a few teeth missing. Mmmm, that's Dublin for ya! I kid you not, I once saw a homeless guy pull down his pants and take a poo behind Cleary's on O'Connell Street, the busiest street in the city center. Plain as day! It looked like chicken curry. To this day, I still wonder what he wiped with...But hey, who am I to complain? The Guinness here is like heaven in your mouth!

Back to the train! All I could think was, 'Oh bajeezus, is this really happening to me??? Crap, I'm going to get mugged!' I've never been mugged before but this is not how I envisioned it going down. I always hoped I would at least have a nice dress on and my hair done, like this scene from Clueless:

The good Samaritan inside me was yearning to get out, but what was I getting myself into? She pointed to a word in the Metro Herald and asked, "What does that say?" Were they taking the piss or was one trying to distract me while the other stole my purse?!? I replied, "That says Nathan" She seemed very skeptical of my answer and replied, "Whaaaa?! Whaaa's a 'Nay-tan'?!" WTF?!?

I quickly began to panic. All 12 years of elementary school, Jr High and High School were flashing through my brain. Holy shit, could Nathan have more than one meaning and she's testing me?!?! Why didn't I go to college??? Should I have stayed in private schools???

I decided to play it safe, "It's a name" I replied. She flinched in disbelief. "Whaaa?" Was she astonished that I knew what a 'Nathan' was, or did I choke on my words? Perhaps I am just an all knowing oracle (if she even knew what that meant). Luckily, they soon forgot about me but continued bickering and sounding out words between the two of them. I guess half of a brain is better than one. All the while, I battled with myself whether or not I should fake my stop and wait for the next train, or just pray they didn't ask me to sound out any other words. But I have to admit, giving them an edumacation was a lot better than getting knived by one of them! So much for telling them about my blog, they can't even read a damn newspaper...

All in all, what have I learned today?

• Giraffe shit tastes like brownies.
• I'm a fucking failure, God wouldn't even read my blog!
• Helping people to read scares the shit out of me!