More on Mountain Lions

First of all, let me tell you that I've decided to capitalize Mountain Lions from now on, just to emphasize their importance in my everyday life.  Much like God (who also capitalizes His name), They are an almighty force. . . one which should be feared and respected.  But mostly just feared.  So on to my story:

Strange things have been happening lately. It all started with some spam I received from a wildlife foundation asking me to donate to “save the big cats.” I, of course, found this hilarious and posted something on Facebook to the tune of, “Clearly these people do not know me.”

...And that's when the second round of emails came flooding in. Daily newsletters on protecting the mountain lions of North America, people thanking me for my passion in regards to preserving nature. What. The. Hell. ???

Earlier this week, it all made sense. I received a rather large envelope from savetheworld.org or whatever the hell this foundation is, and I open it to find that a donation had been made in my name to help protect Mountain Lions. In fact, I got a picture of my very own cougar. The one which I have, apparently, sponsored. He lives in Florida and, since “I” (aka: Jude and Chrissie) paid to help protect him, I've decided to name him Godsmistake. One word. Because that's what all cats are.

So, thanks to my asshole sister and her fiance, somewhere out there, a mountain lion is a little bit safer because of me. God damn it. 

Now, I know I promised you all a picture explaining the whole Top of the Food Chain thing, and here it is:

Once upon a time, someone called me an asshole nature-hater for my views on Mountain Lion hunting.  I am a firm believer in hunting these vicious creatures into extinction.  Or, as an alternative, moving them all to Canada.  And my explanation was simple: TOP OF THE FOOD CHAIN.  Lion eats man.  Period.  And of course, I got some hippy response about us encroaching on their territory and blab blah blah.  So to try and edge myself back into the good graces of these animal lovers, I explained that it has nothing to do with animals in general, just the dangerous ones. So I asked, if they velociraptors were still roaming around, would you not be all for getting rid of them?  Because fuck running into a velociraptor.  You just have no chance. Anyway, none of it went over well, and suffice it to say that I offended more than one person.  Which, you know, I'm pretty much used to at this point.

So. . . As you can clearly see in my diagram, velociraptors and Mountain Lions are a threat to man.  You can tell because there are half-eaten humans right next to both of them.  And if that's not a logically sound argument, then I don't know what is.  

Good night.  And if you live in the hills of California, good luck. 

Best (Wo-) Man...

As my sister's maid of honor, I've done pretty much nothing she's asked me to do thus far.  Not because I don't care, but because I feel like I should have a more exciting job than finding out my cousin's street address (Sharon, if you're reading this, please text Chris your address!).  So today, I was offered an opportunity to redeem myself: Designing the "Save the Date" cards.  Finally!  A task worthy of my time and talents!

After many many minutes of hard work, I was promptly fired when my sister received, what I think is, a genius design. See Below.

I would definitely use this card if I were the one getting married,  Except I would be taller, holding a beer, and wearing a Browns shirt.  Because, clearly, I'm much classier than my sister.  Also, I refuse to get all sappy and serious when it comes to weddings.  First of all, it is not your "one special day."  In all likelihood, you will have one or two more "special days" in your lifetime, so don't sweat it if you fuck the first one up a little bit.  Look at it as a rehearsal for wedding number 2. Or 3. Or, if you're Larry King, 9.  Secondly, I really like this card.  For as crude of a drawing as this may be, it actually looks like my sister.  Now that's talent. 

So, after being cruelly fired from this task, I've decided to beat my sister to the printer and send out version 2.howdareyoufireme of my "Save the Date" card. 

And for this, I don't mind finding the addresses of pretty much anyone she's ever known.
Side note: There were a few alternate versions of this card, my favorite of which is one where Chrissie looks like a tiny baby, and a fanged Jude is mauling her, but my drawing skills leave too much to be desired, and I feared that no one would know what it was. Also, I didn't think it was appropriate for a wedding.

(P.S. Love you, Chrissie!!!)

Random babble

Things on my mind right now:

1) My blog has six followers. Two of them are me. That's right... I created two separate blogger accounts so that I could up my followers.  How sad has my life become?  It's probably bad enough that I even "followed" myself once...

2) That being said, my blog has 189 hits this week.  Since I don't track my own viewings, it begs the question: Who is reading this?  Do I have one really awesome stalker, or are most of you too embarrassed to admit publicly that you read this garbage?

3) I might hate Bengals fans these days more than I hate Steelers fans.  For starters, they are sucky, sucky fair weather fans.  The only Browns game I missed this year was the Browns at Bengals game and that's because I was in Cincinnati and the game was blacked out.  And none of my friends (who claim to love their Bengals so much) would go with me.  Also,  Who Dey? Really? Not only did you rip off another team, but you ripped off one of the lamest sports chants ever. It's like copying off the kid who's eating paste. Not that I would expect much from a city that borders Kentucky...*
(*Side note: I actually love the city of Cincinnati. Very, very much. Bengals "fans" just irritate me. But in all fairness, at least they don't bark like we do for our Brownies. Because that's just weird.)

4) After my 15 year love affair with the ellipsis points, it has been pointed out to me that I type it incorrectly.  It is not ...   Its . . .    But I'm far too lazy to type the spaces between the dots.  Also, I know I overuse them. But here's my argument:  The ellipses can be used when it's an unfinished thought, or kind of trailing off into nowhere, and I do that all the time when I speak, so. . .

5) Since we're so technologically advanced, why don't we have a cool Jetson's-type machine that we can walk into and change our eye color?  I really want green eyes for a few days and I can't wear contacts because touching your eyeball is gross.

6) If you've somehow managed to read this whole post, then it should be obvious by now that I'm incredibly sleep deprived. Which brings us to number 6.  Why can't I sleep???? I've watched two movies, and taken 2 allergy/sleeping pills.  Still nothing. I'm going to hate myself tomorrow. . .

Al Gore hates me.

If the weather doesn't warm up soon, I'm going to start investing in cans of aerosol hairspray and driving around for hours wasting gas.  Seriously, Cleveland... You're starting to make me reconsider my stance on global warming. Icecaps be damned, I just want more than three months out of the year where I don't have to wear a coat.

Before you all start yelling at me for being an asshole, I'm not serious.  Not entirely, anyway. I know there are simpler solutions than destroying the environment.  For instance, moving to a place that isn't a frozen, gray, dream graveyard.  But I'm lazy, and it's much easier to fantasize about destroying the ozone layer for the sake of Cleveland than it is to actually move. So there ya go.

Things I Love About Cleveland

Ok, a few of these things are a little outdated now, as I started writing this a few months ago and just finished it now. But whatever.  So, without further ado...

Things I Love about Cleveland

In an effort to try and minimize the soul-sucking despair I feel every time I look out my window and realize that, yes, this is home, I've compiled a list of the things that don't totally suck about Cleveland, Ohio.

So let's just jump right into numero uno: There are no mountain lions here. Seems like I'm reaching, huh? In fact, this is one of the best reasons I can think of to move to North Eastern Ohio – provided, of course, that you don't already live in a nicer, mountain lion-less part of our fair country. So basically, this just includes the deep South and Michigan. But back to my point... Mountain lions. They will eat the fuck out of you. I understand that human fatalities as a result of cougar attacks are insanely low, but still. Why take the chance? My sister, who lives in Berkeley, CA, used to make fun of me all the time. I had no problem roaming around East Oakland, but if we were anywhere near the hills, I didn't get out of the car. Here's my logic, flawed as it may be: There's always a chance that you can reason with a crackhead. But there's no reasoning with a hungry lion.  That's just the way it is.

Which brings us to reason number 2 that Cleveland doesn't totally suck: Lack of sunshine. Now, you may be thinking, wait a minute! This is not a positive! And you're right – it's not. But take me, for example. Not only am I allergic to the sun, but my eyes are extremely sensitive to the light. This means less money spent on sunglasses and umbrellas. So I'm saving at least $50 a year. Of course, once you factor in the lack of jobs, and the low wages, then this is not really a positive at all. But I'm trying here...

Reason #3: It's not Detroit. Simply and unarguably a valid point. I don't think anything else needs to be said here. (In my defense, I'd made this argument way before the brilliant “Hastily made Cleveland tourism video” came out. Ask any Clevelander... “At least we're not Detroit” has been our only retort to “Cleveland sucks” for... well, forever.

Reason #4: Since our Browns, Indians, and Cavaliers have collectively not won a damn thing in over half a century, our tickets to sporting events are more affordable than anywhere outside of Baghdad. For a mere $75, you rock it courtside like Jay-Z. Of course, the rate of broken TVs, burst blood vessels, and sports-related depression are among the highest in the country. But no worries – we have groups for that. They meet regularly at the local sports bars, and can be found drunkenly muttering something about “next year...” But once again, here's where you can factor in that "At least we're not Detroit" logic.  It could be worse, guys. We could be Lions fans. How much would that suck?  Interesting side note:  My cousin's husband is a Lions fan from NE Ohio, and I will never, ever understand it.  I can understand growing up realizing that the Browns suck, and walking away from that heartache at an early age.  BUT... the Lions? You pick the only team worse than the Browns to root for? There are like, 30 other teams you could have picked that will definitely do better than the Browns on any given year, but you pick the only franchise that is legitimately never, ever good. It boggles the mind. Maybe he just likes the way he looks in baby blue. It's the only explanation that makes sense to me.

Reason #5: In a recent story entitled “The United States of Shame,” Ohio actually received one of the least offensive titles: Nerdiest. This was based on the fact Ohio has the highest number of library book check outs per person. Of course, this could be for a plethora of reason other than the idea that we just like to learn. In fact, I suspect that this has more to do with that fact that people here can't afford to buy books than it does with our nerdiness. But even if that translates to “poorest,” I'll take it considering some of the other titles were Highest Rate of Women Brutally Murdered, Arson Deaths and Most Beastiality offences. Poorest? SOLD!

Reason #6: Speaking of sports... We may have some of the worst sports teams in recent history (as I write this, the Cavs are in the middle of a record-breaking 25 losses in a row), but that doesn't stop our fans. The dawg pound still shows up every Sunday, despite the sub-zero temperatures and presumably losing record. Our Indians fans still pour into Progressive Parkway, and our Cavaliers fans want it even more since our local homewrecker traded our loyalty for a romp in the sand with Beach Skank Barbie. That's right Heat fans. I just compared your team to women of loose morals.  Can't wait to see you guys lose to the Celtics! (Side note: Since the ill-advised Perkins trade, I'm not so sure the Celtics are going to the Finals anymore.  What the hell where they thinking??  Somebody better step up and beat Miami, and I'm not confidant that Chicago is experienced enough to do it.)

Reason number 7: Sweetest Day! For those of you who live outside Ohio, Indiana, and Western Pennsylvania, Sweetest Day is pretty much just Valentine's Day's retarded half-birthday. And, as you've probably guessed, it started in Cleveland. As though one Valentine's Day isn't bad enough, every third Saturday in October, people celebrate the whole thing all over again. The good news is that if you aren't single and you somehow managed to fuck up Valentine's Day for your significant other, you can always make up for it in October.

Reason number 8: We've got a great music scene. No, really. I don't even have anything snarky to say here. The Pretenders, the Black Keys, Nine Inch Nails, the Raspberries, Dave Grohl, half of Warrant, Maynard from Tool, etc. All from NE Ohio. Apparently, shitty weather and lack of industry breed some pretty stellar music.  As Ian Hunter said, "Cleveland Rocks!"  Yes sir, it does.  Though if you really listen to the lyrics of that song, it's just blatant Clevelander-bashing.  But that's why I've made it a point to only memorize the chorus.

Reason number 9: Unfortunately, this black pit of despair is home.  Damn you, Cleveland. For all of your flaws, I love you still. And while I may bitch and whine about this place all the time, I'm the first person to proudly say, "I'm from Cleveland!" when I'm far away from home. Mistake on the lake? Oh no you didn't...

"Such a perfect day..."

In a cruel act of god, the North East Ohio area was given a gorgeous, sunny, 85 degree day.  My instant thought was, is this a sick joke?  Yes, Cleveland, it was. Tuesday's forecast: High of 46, low of 37.  In fact, there's not another nice day in sight.  Or at least, not as far as our ten day forecast can see.

So it got me thinking... Way back in the days of the early settlers, whose dumbass idea was it to settle in Cleveland?  Did someone lose a bet? Or was it just the tired, sick and lame who stayed behind here, only because they were unable to travel any farther west?  That has to be it. Also, it would explain a lot if we're looking at gene pools.  "From whence they came!!"  Yep.  I get it now.
 
Get me the hell outta here.

Coming soon:  Things I love about Cleveland (but not really)

Smile! Jesus loves you...

So, while I was out today, the kindly folk down at Charity Baptist Church left a copy of the ten commandments (Ten Commandments? Should that be capitalized? Probably. If there's anything I learned in church, it's that God loves proper nouns) on my doorstep.

Here's where I'm confused:  It says that the second commandment is, "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image."  Now, I've got a pretty good memory, and I even did a brief stint in Catholic school, but I swear to not God (because somehow, it just feels wrong right now) that I have never heard this commandment.  What does it even mean???

Damn it.  If I only I hadn't missed them. First of all, I would have my commandment question answered. Secondly, I like talking to those door-to-door Christians.  I feel that, due to my sales background, I can relate to these people. Mortgages, frozen food, Christianity... It's all the same basic concept when you're trying to hook someone.  So to take my daily frustrations from my sales job out on them, I like to play the asshole potential customer game.  I'll ask questions like, "So, what can you offer me that Order of the Sacred Poptarts cannot?"  Or, "Do you ever worry that maybe the Scientologists are right?  Because how much would that suck?" "Why don't you guys believe in dinosaurs? That's just silly,"

And that's when I try to flip it and sell them science.   Not because I don't believe in a higher power, but because I just generally don't take being told that I'm wrong very well.  At this point, they usually give up and hand me the second flier.  The, we-give-up-because-you're-clearly-going-to-Hell-and-there's-nothing-we-can-do-about-it flier. Which just isn't very nice at all. 

March Madness brings...

April completefuckingdisaster-ness? I was going to say April sadness, because it actually rhymes, but I decided that this whole thing calls for some good ol' fashioned swearing. Good lord...

I would rather have my eyes eaten out by piranhas than have to ever watch that game again. Seriously. WORST. NCAA. CHAMPIONSHIP. GAME. EVER. And this is coming from a person who firmly believes that caps lock is pretty much the most douchy thing you can do with a keyboard.  THAT'S HOW MUCH I HATED IT.

I think even the Huskies themselves hated it.  Did you see their reactions to the win?  They almost looked embarrassed.  It's like when you know you're getting that promotion because none of the qualified people wanted it.  Or you're because sleeping with your boss...   You just want to get out of there with the prize as quickly as possible before the whispering begins. 

I personally think that Butler and UConn should have to come out and formally apologize to Kentucky, Arizona, Ohio State, and every single person who had the misfortune of tuning into CBS tonight.  Hell, after that performance, I'm thinking that Akron might even deserve and apology.

Eggs!

Sometimes I like to text people who are in the room while they're on the phone with someone else I know.  Partly out of sheer boredom, and partly because I am an attention whore and I hate feeling unnoticed.

This usually only happens when my mom and sister are on the phone.  I'll usually text something fairly witty in hopes that the textee will feel like he or she is somehow missing out by choosing to talk to caller instead of me.  It almost never works.  So then I resort to pitting the callers against each other.  For example:  "What could you guys possibly be talking about for this long? Oh, hey... Did you know I overheard mom talking to someone about what a pain in the ass you are?  I know, I thought it was harsh, too."  This approach doesn't tend to work, either. 

So in a final act of deperation, I try either insulting the caller, or texting some absurd cluster of words, hoping to pique his or her interest.  Tonight, my sister beat me at my own game.  The only response I got was, "eggs!"  Yep,  Eggs. With an exclamation point, even. (!!!)

I'm quitting this family.

Welcome to my blog. You'll like it here...

...Or maybe you won't.

You may be (but are probably not) asking yourself, why is Nikki starting a blog?  For starters, I'm pretty much the most awesome person I know, and I figured that you might like to know me, too.  Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, I'm really bored. All of the time. And since I usually have no one to talk to, I figured this is a good way to make it seem like someone is listening.

I'm going to go ahead and do a quick Q&A with myself to clear up any other questions you may have in regard to my blog.

Q:  Why is your blog called Top of the Food Chain?
A: Well, it all goes back to mountain lions (and maybe dinosaurs).  And as soon as I can figure out how to use this blog, I'll have a nice diagram for you guys that I think will do this question more justice than anything I can type.

Q: Why is your web address www.mountainlionswilleatyou.blogspot?
A: Because some other asshole already took topofthefoodchain.blogspot. Oh, and also because it's true. Mountain lions WILL eat you. They will eat the shit out of you.  Don't worry, I'll touch more on this subject later.  And often. 

Q: Are you really the most awesome person you know?
A: It's not likely. I mean, I started a blog because I have no one to talk to.  You do the math. Also, in my head, Bill Simmons and I are best friends... Which would mean that I am definitely not the coolest person I know.

Ok.  Well, that seems like as good as spot as any to stop. Goodnight, zero readers.