What I'm Supposed to be Doing... *UPDATED*

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I'm supposed to be writing my introduction and conclusion for my final essay in research writing. I'm having trouble concentrating because hubby is watching some horrible movie with either aliens or dead people communicating with 'normal people' and there's a whole lot of screaming and scary music. Predictably, the cop doesn't believe the victim and her world is ending.

I hate that crap.

Scary movies are not my thing.

I have trouble concentrating on writing about anything, much less the propaganda machine that is American media when I'm confronted with terrified shrieks and music that reminds me of The Shining.

That movie scarred me forever and ever, Amen.

Hotels kinda freak me out, especially if I'm the only one walking down a hallway. Rum instantly translates to redrum in my mind. And you couldn't pay me enough to go into a shrubbery maze, unless you paid me enough to buy the land it was on so I could have it torn it down while I recuperated from my mental breakdown.

Halloween made me scared to babysit.

Omen made me leery of 10 year-old brunette boys with blue eyes and doberman pincers.

The Exorcist turned me off pea soup.

Poltergeist made me set the sleep timer on the television so there would never be snow on the screen, and check all my meals for maggots.

Scream made me afraid to go out to the garage for more beer, and thankful that I didn't need to go into school bathrooms anymore.

Thanks to Silence of the Lambs, I assess the motives of anyone that invites me to dinner.

And yet, I wound up in Texas with a man that owns a chainsaw.

Hubby loves those movies.

I, however, love Godfather I & II and Goodfellas and Casino. Hubby hates those movies. He doesn't 'get' them. I understand that he has no context for those movies. I understand that movies these days require an explosion every 3.6 seconds, and by comparison, Godfather seems 'slow'. Because back when those movies came out, the storyline, the dialogue and plot progressed the story, not the number of times things could be blown to smithereens or how many of the central characters could be made to bleed or scream.

I gravitate towards comedies, because I want to fill my life with laughter and use movies as happy escapes.

Maybe if I focus my essay on how the word 'terror' was used by the media during the Bush administration I could write my essay. Or maybe I should just wait till this movie is over and insist on watching The Hangover to rid my mind of the ugliness that is currently forced upon me.

Or maybe, when he goes outside to BBQ later, I will confiscate every scary movie in the house and hide them somewhere he'll never find them... with the dish detergent.

**UPDATED** OK, not really sure what the heck just happened there, but this post disappeared and I had to re-post it~ Which is why, kiddies, you always email yourself a copy of your blog posts! Since I had to go all deja-vu this morning, I decided to enhance the post with a picture that will make your skin crawl for the rest of the day. Cause I'm AWESOME like that!

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Mostly Kind Of Offensive Pictures, So Not Quite Wordless Wednesday *UPDATED!*

The Buddy Christ totally cracks me up!
I know, I need help...
and possibly very strong medication.



"...but look at it. Doesn't it... POP?"



OH MAAAN! If they had this when I was there,
I'd own it... then I could pose it around the house for when I really need to chill the hell out cause I'm going to wind up in jail or a hospital clenching my chest and explaining why I took viagra hubby is being a butthead! Ohhh or, like if we go to bed angry, I could position it on my pillow so that it stares and points right at the hubs when he wakes up, which, let's face it, would freak out anyone that isn't already a freak. Like me, I'd laugh my ass off and have to jump up and run to the bathroom to keep from wetting the bed. I admit it. I'm such an idiot! LOL

Yes, I've seen this



in person. It totally pays to know your way around Jersey...

and since I'm an equal opportunity offender...



Schmuley.


*UPDATED* You too can own the Buddy Christ action figure as shown above... Goto Aria'z Store, it's listed under Miscellaneous!(or just go here)

or Schmoo-ley.



Schmoo-ley concept by my equally twisted sister, thanks Kar!

Why My Husband Needs To Be Shot Through The Head With A Taser aka my love affair with Taylor; pork roll that is

Image by Reznicek111 via Flickr

So, Hubby needs to die a painful screaming writhing twitching death at the hands of an over-amped taser.

The man has OH-SO-FOOLISH-ly come between me and my pork roll. For those of you who aren't New Jersey natives, nor have ever had the pleasure of passing through and stopping at a NJ diner, let me inform you, so you don't make the same mistake as my soon to be dead husband. Never Never Never EVER come between a displaced Jersian and their pork roll.

While those of you who have never tasted it's tangy, salty, makes bacon seem like a total waste of time round grilled goodness... let me just say; we do that on purpose. To save the rest of you from yourselves. There's just enough salami-sized canvass wrapped scrumptiousness for those of us who grew up teething on slices with the omnipresent red box in the fridge and those non natives who showed up in person and weren't dissuaded by the name to try it.

It is oral sex straight from the store, if during oral sex your mouth was the one having all the fun.

We eat it with eggs and cheese on hard rolls for breakfast. Oh, and not whatever kind of hamburger-bun-sized roll, no. A REAL honest to god, sesame seed covered top Hard Roll, thank you very much. We will have the same sandwich without the eggs for lunch... and then for dinner we'll go have Italian food, cause we can't all live on nitrates alone, well, unless we're single and broke, then it's another pork roll sandwich for dinner. I've even had pork roll on pizza, so it is possible to combine the awesomeness of Jersey Italian food with pork roll and you don't have to cook or even leave the house.

The rest of America has tried to duplicate this by putting canadian bacon on pizza...

People. Puh-leez.

Canadian bacon is to pork roll what Canada is to New Jersey. They both get cold and have a whole lot of diversity, but Canadians are all well mannered and polite and will wait for you to say, "Oh hey, I didn't see you there." and then you move over and allow them to pass; where as New Jersians will honk once in our attempt at politeness before we will run your ass down if you don't get the hell out of the way. It's nothing personal. We simply don't have time to wait on you. We're busy people with lots to do and see and we have zip and snap and we don't just hang around waiting for you to notice us. Pork roll is the same way. It's not sweet. It's tangy. It's not mild. It's bold. And, just like most New Jersians outside of New Jersey, it is totally misunderstood upon first meeting it.

Kind of like landing in Newark for your first visit, and then going to see the rest of the state in all it's Autumnal beauty. You wouldn't expect upon landing to like the place so much. And yet, it can become one of your favorite places for so many reasons.

So too with non-Jersians and pork roll. First you say, "Sounds gross, but I'll try anything once." and then some Jersian serves you up a sandwich with that knowing smile as you take your first bite and are addicted. Not like KFC or heroin addicted, because you can get that generic gotta-have-it-now stuff anywhere. No, you leave the state and more than 1 hour past the NJ borders, and you CAN NOT GET PORK ROLL ANYWHERE... unless you have an internet connection and a credit card.

Which brings me to my husband's untimely but fully deserved death... He denied me internet ordering pork roll because HE has never had pork roll and simply doesn't understand the lengths a Dying-of-Swine-Flu-majorly-hormonal-woman will go to in order to get said pork roll after already being denied decent aka Jersey-esque: Italian food, Polly-O cheeses, hot pretzels, in the casing hot dogs Tandy Kakes, real salt water taffy and not-from-Domino's-or-Pizza-Hut pizza delivery. I have reached my breaking point.

I have now become pork roll denied lethal. Somebody better warn this man how serious I am. Or else, y'all just need to dry clean your black suits and dresses. Fair warning. 'nuff said.

Proud to Be From Jersey (part 1)

A huge thank you to my mother for this email, that I, in all good conscience as a native New Jersian, must pass along.


After having dug to a depth of 10 feet last year, New York archeologists found traces of copper wire dating back 100 years and came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network more than 100 years ago.
Not to be outdone by the New Yorkers, in the weeks that followed, a California archaeologist dug to a depth of 20 feet, and shortly after, a story in the LA Times read: "California archaeologists, finding traces of 200 year old copper wire, have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network a hundred years earlier than the New Yorkers."
One week later, The Jersey Journal, a local newspaper in New Jersey, reported the following:
"After digging as deep as 30 feet in his back yard, Vinny 'Bada Bing' Manziano, a self-taught archaeologist, reported that he found absolutely nothing. Vinny has, therefore, concluded that 300 years ago, New Jersey had already gone wireless."

Just makes me proud to be from New Jersey.

So proud, in fact, that if you have a Jersey laughable, send it to my email: ariazink at yahoo dot com with NJ in the subject line. If you have a site or blog, please be sure to mention it in the email, so I can give you a shout out AND some linky love to boot!