How This Blog Got it's Name

So, The title in full of this particular post is "How this Blog got its Name, or: My Incredibly Fucked Up Dreams."  What am I talking about? Allow me to illuminate...

There was a day in the not too distant past where I was sitting around in my house thinking about a name for this blog.  I couldn't come up with one, so I finished my Heineken and went to sleep.  Well, i have recently departed from a bad relationship in which my psychotic ex and her family were your stereotypical Brooklynese Italians, and I am traumatized because I think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this family with their mob connections and their tommy guns and their fedoras and their posh 1930's suits will drive to my house, dress me in a new wardrobe of cement, and introduce me to their piscene friends.

ANYWAY...

So I fall asleep and proceed to have the following dream:

*ringing phone*
mmmm...Hello?

Psycho-ex's dad:  I'm glad you and my daughter broke up.

Me: Uh, ok?

Him: You would have been a terrible son-in-law.

Me (surprised at this bold statement, because I think I'd make a perfectly reasonable son-in-law; I mean Jesus, it isn't like I'm Jeffrey Dahmer or Charles Manson...): Why, Good Sir, Whatsoever have I done?
-innocent stare that he can clearly see through the phone-

Him (with anger):  YOU ALWAYS WEAR YOUR PAJAMAS TO WORK!

-No, NO, I SWEAR I'VE NEVER WORN MY PAJAMAS TO WORK!!!! I PROMISE!!!

-LIES, YOU WEAR THEM TO WORK EVERY DAY!!!

-BULLSHIT!!

Me, very desperately:  look, I can call my boss, He'll tell you I've never worn my pajamas to work...

So with him on the other line I frantically begin dialing my boss.
The bastard won't pick up.
Meanwhile Psycho-Ex Father-In-Law is laughing at me, "See, he won't pick up because he knows you wear them EVERY DAY."

So now I'm getting pissed at my boss, ready to give this guy a good reaming because  he's on call, and he's supposed to be at work, and I'm about ready to murder my ex's dad when the phone starts playing music.

Well, the music is my alarm going off, so I rise and shine, and half-way through my morning shower it hits me:

I have REALLY fucked up dreams.

Ponies, Purple, and Me

So basically the deal is this.  I fucking love the color purple.
Like, I know it's the "gay" color.  Tinkie-Winkie or however you spell his name was the gay Teletubby, right?  Big purple one with the triangle thingy on his head?  I remember in high school, everyone called him gay.  Whatever.  The point is Purple is a pretty boss color.

Unfortunately, I also have the added affliction of being a Brony.
I'm a brony, and I am proud.
Yes.  I am a 24 year old male who watches My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, every Saturday on the Hub.  Well, specifically on youtube because I'm lame and don't get the Hub, but I wasn't going to bitch about free cable.
The show is pretty well written, and Lauren Faust has this miracle tendency to take theses concepts most writers would push for kids and make them so freakin' boss that a massive variety of audiences watch them.  (see: Powerpuff Girls and Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends for reference)

Basically the point is this:  Because I am a huge proponent of this amazing show, and my favorite color is purple, I have this amazing tendency to "ping on the ol' gaydar" as my friend Bill once put it.  People are convinced that my girlfriend is a fantastic cover-up for my secret gay life.

All of this tends to be exacerbated by the fact that, thanks to some quirk of genetics and the environmental stimuli I was bombarded with throughout my formative years, I have a tendency to be a bit flamboyant and or dramatic.  Perhaps a little feminine.  So By these powers combined I wind up getting confused for a homosexual.  And believe me, I am not upset with the gay community.  In fact, I pity them because, really, anyone that gets lumped in a category with me deserves the universal pity of all.

I mean really.  Have you even read this post? I like ponies and purple.  What kind of heterosexual male DOES that?

~I also feel obligated to add that these were just my first 2 posts, and I fully intend to make them longer in the end.  Think, like... uh.... Ally Brosh, with hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com.  (pretty epic read, I'd check it out if I was you.)

Holidays and Colombus

Upon review of my life I am coming to the realization that I hate holidays. I'd like to issue an official apology to the roses are red poem. The poem, although nonsensical and poorly written, did not deserve the bashing I gave it earlier. The blame truly rests on the holiday itself. Valentine's day, which every year i dread, seems to me to be a waste of a day. Unlike many of my friends, I do not mind doting on the ones i love, nor do I object to a day dedicated to caring for your loved one. but that's just the issue. Why should we single out a special day to do these things, when in reality, if you care about someone, you should do this all year long? It's like Christmas. I understand that it's a religion-based holiday, and I'm not opposed to celebrating the birth of the Christ-Child. But for everyone that quips that the day is set aside to bask in the glory of giving or whatever... Isn't that a practice that should be present in our daily lives?

In fact, i'd like to take this one step further while I'm up on my soap-box. The only holidays I feel like we have ANY business celebrating are Halloween, New Year's, The fourth, and Armistice Day. (AKA Veteran's Day. But my reasoning for returning to Armistice day is that, once again, veterans should be glorified every day, not just one day. The armistice day celebrates the end of the first world war on 11/11. you know. a one time thing. But I digress)

Furthermore, All of these holidays like Colombus day need to freakin' go. Christopher Colombus was an asshole. Ge was an Italian that wasn't wanted in Italy, so he was exiled to Spain, where he then was treated like a bad penny. They sent him away, he kept coming back. So the Queen funded a voyage to get rid of him and make money. It wasn't to prove the world was round. In fact, contrary to your primary school education, the popular belief by everybody but the Catholic church was that the world was round. It was to get rid of Ol' Chris and hopefully earn a little money.

 ACTUALLY, the "New World" was set foot on originally prior to 1000 AD by the Vikings, specifically Leif Ericson, son of Eric the Red, who was exiled to Greenland for his war crimes, and perhaps had done some extra Journeying. This all happened about 500 years before Columbus.  Then the Celtic peoples followed and had DOCUMENTED MAPS of much of upper New England prior to Colombus' excursion.

So screw Colombus. and Screw his holiday. AND screw most holidays, because we as intelligent thinking logical beings shouldn't have to have a special day to just "be nice." and if you do, you're probably an asshole. ♥