Thursday, May 27, 2010

My Current Relationship Status with Horror Flicks

It's too bad Facebook doesn't have an option with which to express your relationships with movies. Frankly, I'd find that to be a much more insightful window into the psyche of that person whose profile you're currently reading. They'll ask you about your relationship status (and give a few options to answer with) and then they'll separately ask you about your favorite movies. But if we could combine these two elements of Facebook profiling, you could deduce a lot more about a person. 

Mine, for example, might read something like:


Relationship Status: Married to "the Boondock Saints"

or 


Relationship Status: Engaged to "Cool Hand Luke"

or 


Relationship Status: In a Relationship with "Kick-Ass"

or even...

Relationship Status: It's complicated with "The Cable Guy"


As for horror movies, however...let's just say we broke up a long time ago. When you give a seven-year-old girl with a psychosomatic stomach problem a low-blow like "The Shining", she'll either develop a complex ala Clockwork Orange or she'll break up with the horror movie genre in its entirety. 

That's right. I don't like horror movies. Call me a pansy, I don't care. Horror movies are based on a ridiculous social quirk that I've yet to fully understand. I mean, where's the entertainment value in staying up for three days hyperventilating in the dark? If there is any, I've yet to find it...


 Yet people, especially between the ages of twelve and twenty-two, compulsively hork down horror flicks like the energy drinks they guzzle down for the next few days post-movie...


Of course, I have heard the reasons behind wanting to watch these wastes of celluloid. With teenage guys, the most common reason to watch a horror flick is if you're bringing a chick along with you and you need an excuse to break the physical contact barrier...


Of course, this strategy has been known to back-fire on occasion...



But most of time, people go about their horror movie relationships as if other people are impressed by it. The way in which people so casually insert their menu of horror flicks into a conversation gives me a look into their minds: surely  seeing the hottest horror flick in the theaters makes you the most bad-@$$ in the history of all bad-@$$ery...




But I do have to admit I have a bit of a natural bias against purposefully scaring oneself into hysteria. It's no secret that I've little composure when someone sneaks up behind me, accidentally or otherwise. I tend to be quite jumpy...





So for those of you who may have stronger nerves than myself, I suppose all I can say is ENJOY them, and sure! Enjoy you're creepy little movies. They're not for me. I'll just stick with my usual frightened fare...






- The JSP

Friday, May 21, 2010

My Hair is a Dragon (aka My Shameful Daily Battle)

I am a female.




This means that looking presentable for daily life is a constant uphill battle full of pain, drama, frustration, and the occasional nose bleed.

For years, I have prided myself as a "minimalist" (most people call this "tomboy" or "just not caring"): I didn't wear make-up, I was good with jeans plus t-shirts for my regular circuit, and you'd NEVER catch me saying something like, "OH NO! THIS doesn't MATCH!"


This mostly holds true to this day. I used to laugh at the girls who make emergency application of this-and-that in the car on the way to school/work/wherever, and I would give myself a little internal high-five for my apparent immunity to all the weird things most girls do concerning their appearance. 

HOWEVER, I have recently learned that if you suppress that instinctual feminine urge to primp and prepare, the pressure will seep out in other weird areas of your life...




And when I got my hair cut short about a year and a half ago, thinking short hair must mean "less hair, less work", I was introduced to the wonderful world of...HAIR CARE! OHMAHGAH!

EVERY MORNING for me is a battle of epic proportions between myself and my crazy, completely uncooperative mop of chestnut mess. The way I see it, my hair is a big, mother-flippin' DRAGON that must be slain or violently tamed within a time-window of twenty minutes...





The dragon is also a clever foe, being able to take on multiple forms, each one requiring a different weapon and strategy, and ZERO predictability. The most common of these formidable nemeses are the follwing:

This one I call "The Roger Daltrey":






This next one I call the "One Side Sleeper":





And last but certainly not least, "The Cobain":




Now, there are some days in which I heroically conquer the Dragon with ease and confidence! This is when I'm pretty sure my hair is shooting out rainbows and lasers because of its sheer excellence...





And then there are some days that involve a humiliating display of failure and murderous rage. These are the days in which I fight the urge to pull a Britney on everyone and risk exposing my "Kingdom of the Crystal Skull"-esque skull...




But most days I have a Winona Ryder-on-crystal-meth look that, I must admit, has grown on me...




In the worst possible cases in which the Dragon defeats me and I slink away from the bathroom mirror in shame, I always have the hat or hood option, the latter being my personal preference because I have an excuse to practice my Sith Lord powers...




Yes, surely femininity has its price. But seriously: how many guys out there can honestly say they fight the cosmetology-equivalent of a mythical beast every morning?


...That's what I thought.

- The JSP

Friday, May 14, 2010

Birds are Jerks

For this next blog, I would like to employ the Morgan's speech method...


General Purpose Statement: To persuade. 

Specific Purpose Statement: To persuade my audience that the moral integrity of birds in the public eye is contrary to reality: instead of cute, innocent and comical critters, birds are malevolent and aggressive JERKS.


Thesis: Birds are jerks. 
--------------------------------------------------------


On July 15th, 2009, the Associated Press managed to capture this footage of a bugger of an aviary incident that had been going on for quite sometime in the financial district of San Francisco...



As you can see, this manic little dive-bomber had cut himself quite a swath in the news and for bored, Internet-surfin' teenagers everywhere. Despite the obvious entertainment value of this video, one has to admit that this seemingly adorable little blackbird is in fact...what? 

A JERK!


So, why does something as innocuous as this make the news at all? I mean, SURELY on July 15th, 2009 there were more pressing things that could have made the news like...oh...the death of Russian human-rights activist Natayla Estemirova? Or...swine flu, or whatever the big media gripe was last year. 

Well, the reason why birds make the news when they freak out on people is because we are surprised by it; we don't expect the sudden and inexplicable EVIL of birds because popular culture has brainwashed all of us. I repeat: BRAINWASHED. 

Birds have been sold to us as altruistic, humorous, good-natured, and sweet creatures on God's pleasant, green earth. I swear to you, it is a LIE. Here's what the media and popular culture would like you to think when you think of birds...






When in reality, you KNOW that if Big Bird was real, he'd sooner peck everyone on Sesame Street to death instead of teach them about shapes...



To flesh out my argument, I'd like to make the following points clear...


Number One: Birds are Arbitrarily Aggressive

Those of you who own a rooster know what I'm talking about. Roosters are flaming little balls of testosterone that will pick a fight with anything that moves. Friends of mine accidentally injured their rooster recently because it was trying to kill one of them and wounded itself in the process (boot + young rooster's leg = future underdeveloped spur or possible leg-removal). The little monster had to be cast up and spoon fed painkillers for a month, and it still hasn't learned its lesson...

 



Turkeys are elitists birds (which I think is hilarious, because of all the birds to act like they're somehow superior, turkeys are the last to do so). They will literally peck to death any member of their flock that they think is inferior or "different". 


Adelie penguins will push each other off of glaciers to make sure the water below is not infested with flesh-eating seals. If Jeff the Penguin is eaten, they don't go swimmin'...



...and according to Top Tens.com, the "Number One Bird that Can Kick Your Ass" is...you guessed it...the ostrich. The Swiss Family Robinson, if they ever made it off that island, could probably become a crime-fighting supergroup with their psycho birdular vehicles...





Number Two: Birds have a taste for revenge

A recent study has shown that crows can remember individual humans by their facial features, and thus pester them and kick their butts when they deem necessary. However, it is almost impossible for us to distinguish individual crows, even if we took your beloved pet crow of fifteen years and threw it in with a murder of twenty (by the way, MURDER of crows. MURDER. C'mon, people! Know what we're dealing with!). 



This "Crow Paradox" was discovered by an eccentric professor at the University of Washington, in which he and his students wore exaggerated face masks and heckled campus crows, only to find that the crows would leave them alone unless they wore the mask a second time. In that case, they were attacked, begrudged, and one student said that one of the crows called him fat. 

Number Three: Birds have a natural tendency towards casual vandalism

Ever wondered if Napoleon could take a fatal aviary crapping?

  

Birds have no appreciation for art nor history. Senseless. 



And finally...





Number Four: Birds (especially male birds)are Nature's answer to the human douche-bag

Tell me if this sounds familiar to you: 

1. Attention hungry
2. Cocky
3. Obnoxious
4. Show-offy
5. Sexually promiscuous 
6. Noisy

No, it's not Chad from Delta Kai, it's all male birds in mating season. We've all seen the Planet Earth footage on Discovery Channel: just put that happy, hopping winged weirdo in a lowered Honda Accord with the bass turned up, and you have yourself a familiar character:


 Many male birds, such as roosters and turkeys, are known to have "harems" of females all to themselves. Birds are polygamist swingers with little to no respect for their female counter parts...




Conclusion: 

So you see, pop culture has thoroughly distorted the moral integrity of birds. We are living under a cloud of ignorance, and we must do what is necessary to see the truth in the beady little eyes of every feathered jerk-face. 

So, many of you may be asking, "What can we do to right society's wrongs concerning the moral integrity of birds?" Well, as with all societal epidemics, the true problem resides inside our hearts. The change won't begin until we take a good look at the person in the mirror and admit to ourselves, "The bird-related brainwashing ends HERE!"

Therefore, when you come into interaction with a bird, do WHATEVER you can to remind yourself that they are evil little buggers:

1. Recall your favorite scene from Hitchcock's film "The Birds"...


2. Run in the opposite direction...



3. Flip them "the bird"



(If the gesture itself doesn't get'em, the irony will).  



Secondly, those of you who own birds be sure to keep a close watch on them and assert your dominance at every opportunity. Keep yourself informed about the risks involved (personal injury, annoyance, and an abundance of noise pollution). It's also really helpful to own at least one cat...




Finally, join the right groups in the movement!



There's a group on Facebook that I recently joined called "Birds are Jerks", with the adorable motto attached to the homepage reading:

"Birds are @#%-hole Sky-demons"

I wholeheartedly agree. 

So, unless you want THIS to continue throughout your mischievous lifetime...


...Get involved in the movement against our aviary adversaries. There is no need for violence or upheaval, but we're HUMANS, dagnabit! We're on top of the food chain and we can let them know once and for all that we don't have to take their crap!


Literally!




- The JSP

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Mother's Day 2010

And now, a wordless recounting of the Jump Seat Pixie's Mother (last 18 years)...



















































No one else could've handled this amount of awkward with such mastery! Thanks, Mom!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

- The JSP

Friday, May 7, 2010

Super Shins: What I Can Take Away from Girl's Soccer

Men rarely hold grudges. Have you noticed this? Growing up with three guys, I have seen every conceivable conflict arise within the fiery, caged, death-match ring of testosterone: everything from a misunderstood chess move to an out-and-out fist fight over something that currently escapes my memory (something to do with who got to be the Red Power Ranger). 

However, no matter how severe the conflict, no matter how much carnage is wrought in the process, this is literally all you have to do to end it...
...This is why conflict-resolution is so much easier with guys. They don't really seem to hold grudges, or at least, not for very long. 



Women, on the other hand...well, there's a reason why my three best friends are dudes. I know women, I am a "women" and I know that when something makes me angry, I can walk through walls if I feel like it. And I'm a moderately tempered chick:




It wasn't until I joined a girl's Jr. High soccer team that I came to the full realization of the raging estrogen ocean. Sweet Little Suzy puts on a pair of shin guards and suddenly we have a Dr. Jekyl / Mr. Hyde effect...




...even at age twelve, the female is an evil, blood-sucking juggernaut sprinkled with a thin surface layer of sugar and spice. Men might be pigs, but girls are mean little obliterators...



Our team was the "Geckos", with Hulk-green jerseys and tempers to match. I mean, look at me: I'm a thorough-bred killing machine...


 We had a double-coach system, in which a couple of local fathers were both yelling at us from the sidelines in their "unintentionally" matching Nike track suits. We were one of the "bottom-of-the-barrel" teams in the league, so that meant almost every team we played CLOBBERED us; but you'd be a fool to say we didn't have the proper girls' soccer mentality:


You can't really say we weren't aggressive and scary at times, either. A few of the girls on our team probably ate ground beef injected with growth hormones (being that they were six-foot-three at thirteen and able to put anyone's lights out if they felt like it). In every game, we had to "take-a-knee" at least twice: everything from bloody-noses to compound fractures, and there was NEVER mercy. Chicks aren't afraid to kick if you're down...


We girls don't have much sense of honor in violence. Before I joined the Geckos, I studied my friend Lid's team and saw that boy's have a better sense of honor on the field. 



With boys, aggression is greedily conserved for the game, and there are rarely hissy-fits in a loss. It's not the same with chicks...


One of my favorite parts of soccer was when girls did something called "chopping trees", an illegal move which involved the players intentionally kicking another player's shins as hard as possible until they either tripped or fell over in so much pain that they were forced to sacrifice the ball to the assaulting party. My position was always either defense or mid-field, meaning my "trees" were "chopped" A LOT. Oh yeah, and shin-guards are a pathetic placebo: when spiky, p'leather clubs of death are being thrown at you with the entire weight of the player behind them, one 1/8th inch of plastic and cotton isn't going to do you much good. 

All the quips about "improving my confidence" and "creating a sense of sports-community" were quickly lost on my brain. In reality, the only long-term upside of girl's soccer was that, thanks to "tree chopping", I now have an above-normal ability to withstand a beating on my shins. I can freak some people out by letting them punch the crap out of my shins before I will feel any actual PAIN. It's really only coffee tables that get me anymore. 

In the dark. 

When I come home late at night. 

Seriously, those things have conscious abilities to ambush, I'm sure of it...


- The JSP