Random Thoughts of a Crazy Lady

As I was eating bacon pizza (seriously! bacon pizza!) with friends the other night, I was struck with a brilliant idea. People like strip clubs. People like bacon. What if I opened a strip club where the strippers are wearing bacon? Brilliant, right? And they could take off the pieces and throw them at the clients, like feeding bears. And since this is Portland, we could have veggie bacon for the vegans (Vegans want to watch the ladies get naked too). AND (thanks to John for this flash of genius) we could call the place: Bacon Strips. Right? Right? I am totally going to do this. I'll be rich! RICH! Mwahahaha!

My evil laugh makes me throat hurt.

You know what else makes me laugh? Squirrels. Like, I know they're basically rats with cute fluffy tails. Like they're all carriers of Ebola and SARS and shit, but they're also like little meth addicts. Squirrels are completely insane. Especially city squirrels. Or university campus squirrels. They must have access to all kinds of drugs because they're completely manic. There are squirrels everywhere here and they're all totally batshit insane.

Near where I used to work in sunny So Cal, there was this huge tree next to some steps. And this crazy squirrel would always chill on the steps, but he must have been blind or something. Because he'd wait until you got too close, like closer than you'd think is possible to get to a squirrel, and then freak out because you're TOO CLOSE! TOO CLOSE! And he'd kamikaze leap off the side of the steps into the air without even aiming for the tree or anything to land on. I watched him aim his leap wrong once and just fly head first into a higher step. That one looked painful. But I bet you that squirrel is still alive.

Because Ebola gives squirrels eternal life. Like jesus for rodents.

So I normally don't mind the sound of trains. I wrote about this once like a year ago. Normally the faint rumble and horn of a train helps me fall asleep. But my friendly neighborhood train is a little more enthusiastic than I can handle. He's just so excited to be a train. Honking his horn for maybe 10 minutes straight, announcing his train status to the world. I'M A TRAIN! I'M A TRAIN! I'M A TRAAAIIIIIIINNNNNN! Needless to say, it gets a little old. My roommate and I constantly find ourselves responding to the train, "We GET it! You're a train. Enough already. So you should announce it to the world?" Because I'm not crazy enough already.

Next Saturday is my birthday. One week from this jour, I'll be 30. Except, I already feel 30. I've always felt that way about birthdays. Why is your birthday a magic portal into a new age? At midnight, I'll magically feel 30? No way, dude. I've been 30 for a couple of months now.

But can I just say that I am excited for 30? I think I've said this before, but that's because it's true. I am excited for 30. At this stage in my life, I'm pursuing my bliss like never before. Really searching for the things that bring me happiness and doing what I can to avoid stress. And I can't wait to see what this decade will bring. Who I'll be. What I'll learn. I'm excited! Are you excited?

Keep your eyes peeled for the next Raw Photos contest! It will be coming up in a couple of weeks and we expect you to bring your best un-photoshopped photos.

And to round out my random thoughts for today, there's this*:

food for thought

*I found this online and have no idea who the artist is. But it's funny as shit and I'd like to see more. If you know who made this, please let me know, yo!