Why I Don’t Believe in Mermaids


Recently Animal Planet released a hoax series called Mermaids: The New Evidence. A hoax to drive ratings, a scheme that got them those ratings, as over 3.6 million people tuned in to see what it was all about. Are mermaids real? Well, my sister was one of the many who succumbed to the trick and doesn’t believe the elaborate set up to be a fake. But I don’t believe in mermaids.

I believe in a lot of things. I certainly believe in life on  other planets. I believe in ghosts, spirits, demons, gods, selkies, magic, etc. But I don’t believe in mermaids. So why? What is so different about mermaids that I can’t extend my belief to them?

Well, it’s because we haven’t found them yet. If you look at the classic mermaid archetype you have shallow water living creatures. Creatures with not a lot of skin protection who still need the sunlight sinking down to the shallower depths.


If these mermaids exist — the mermaids of most imaginations, which fish bottoms and human tops, with no scales or protective skin, who can get away with wearing seashells for modesty — they would have been discovered by now. According to most mermaid images, they sit on rocks by shores. Their homes are hidden below the water, near shipwrecks. They must eat the sea creatures that surround them. So they must be shallow enough that fishing boats, oil riggers, or deep sea explorers would have found them. I mean, have you seen some of the creepy things deep sea explorers have found?



Just for example… I think if we can find creepy ass viper fish, we can find a mermaid. Now true, 95% of the ocean hasn’t been explored. There’s a lot of fucking water and a lot of it is DEEP. Too pressurized to take a submarine down in deep. Too pressurized for a fish girl in a bikini to go swimming in deep. And there’s no light. And not a lot of food. No warmth. So if mermaids do exist, living hidden in the unexplored depths, they’re bound to look something like this:


Not the pretty image of your childhood.

But Alex, you say, Mermaids are magic. My sister said, “They are fantastic and camouflage.” And apparently a little risky, climbing up onto all of those rocks, saving humans from shipwrecks, trading their souls to the sea witch for legs… I diverge…

MAYBE, maybe magic and camouflage and rare mermaid invisibility makes it so that explorers can’t see the mermaids. But what about caught? What about dead? Caught first: Fisherman and whalers and those evil people who kill dolphins. You really think that in all the years that we’ve conquered the seas, no one has ever caught a mermaid? (Government coverup, you say? Pleeeeease.) Mermaids, the nice, flowing haired, busty bikini donning mermaids, would have been caught. Many of them. They would have gotten caught in a net, on some pollution, in a wreck, whatever. It would have happened.

But let’s go back to pollution. Even if mermaids did exist, and I’m in no way conceding that they did, there’s no chance they’d still be alive, not in any strength of number anyway. Look at whales. Population decline. Many species close to extinction, not all going through a comeback. The Blue Whales  are currently at less than 1% of their original abundance. Less than 1%. That would be like if some catastrophe happened and only 71 million people survived. To put it in perspective, the only people left in the world would be the people living in California, Texas, and Colorado. That would be approximately 71 million people. And everyone else is dead, gone, vanished. That’s what has happened to the Blue Whale population.

So who’s to say this wouldn’t have happened to mermaids? Between exploration, pollution, fishing (taking away a food source), and oil spills… would there be any mermaids left? I think no. I think that they’re ancient clean water magics couldn’t be supported in human created filth of the 21st century and that we would have killed them all dead. And their bodies have sunk to the deepest reaches of the ocean and MAYBE, maybe one day we will find mermaid shaped skeletons. But it’s unlikely.

Also, I’ve been told that evolution just isn’t having it.

And that’s my unpopular theory of the week. Ta.


Delsera, Que Sera Sera

So, this week has been a bit crazy and  I didn’t have time to write a proper post. So instead here’s a short story. Also, there will be no post on Monday because of Memorial Day. I hope to be back on track by next Thursday. Enjoy!


In the city of Delsera there is a circus. It has elephants and jugglers, tigers and clowns, lions and tight rope walkers. There is also a grand ringmaster with dark bushy hair and beady eyes. Circus Quesera is the best circus in all the lands, people come from lands unknown to see the ringmaster and his attractions. But Quesera’s biggest attraction of all is the lovely trapeze artist, the ringmaster’s young ward.

Her name is Nailah. She has black skin that often shines with sweat, dark hair covering her head at barely half an inch’s length. She has black lips and eyes, a long neck and nose, and a pointed chin. She wears bangles of gold on her wrists and on her ankles. She wears sarongs and skirts made of light pink and green fabrics. They twirl around her when she walks, when she performs, and when her lover twists her in the air as he often likes to do.

The circus has been the girl’s home since birth. Her mother and father had performed for Quesera as a breathtaking trapeze duo. She was twelve when they died, taken by a disease that swept through Delsera and her desert sisters, devastating the nation. The ringmaster took her in and taught her the art of trapeze, allowing her to continue her parent’s legacy.


“No,” she screams. She’s sixteen and says the word to the ringmaster for the first time, struggling against arms that restrain her. The ringmaster’s man servant is on her left, one of his other ruffians on her right. The ringmaster stands in front of her, his sneer illuminated by the moonlight.

“Are you trying to escape, Nailah?” He says. He steps closer, something golden in his hands. “Where will you go?”

She spits on the ground, fighting to free herself. Her dark eyes glow with rebellion. “I will never perform for you again.”

The ringmaster’s laugh is chilling and Nailah winces as he cups her chin in his hand. He forces her eyes to meet his, all rage and power. “You will perform every night until the day your limbs are too brittle to hold you.”

He bares his yellow teeth in a snarl and clasps the golden torque around Nailah’s neck before she can resist any further. “If you try to leave this city, girl, or if you do anything else to flair my temper, that band will make you regret it. You’re mine. Never forget it.”

That night, for the first time, she feels the biting lash of the whip against her back. The cloth from her shirt sticks in the wounds and her body burns in pain. Tears fall as she performs the next evening, cascading from bar to bar. But they look like gems falling in the circus light and the audience is in awe.


On her eighteenth birthday Nailah watches the circus from her seat far above. The audience watches the lion tamer, the clowns, and jugglers and they cheer appreciatively. But Nailah knows they are really waiting for her. The circus has come to depend on her. The nights she couldn’t perform were bad for business. They were worse for her when sickness or exhaustion earned her the ringmaster’s wrath.

Tonight is her eighteenth birthday and the circus is celebrating by hosting an extravaganza. She tries to count the audience but loses her place. She prays there’s enough. The ringmaster has promised that if she brings in 500 guests for her birthday performance, he will allow her to have an apartment in the city.


“I don’t see the harm,” he’d said when she asked, barely looking up from his ledgers. She had brought him a lot of business that season and his spirits were high. “But since your salary has always gone to your room and board here, I’m not sure how you’ll afford it.”

She had been certain that was a no in disguise. She began to bow and leave when he spoke again.

“If 500 people come to your birthday celebration next week, I will give you the money for the apartment.”

It was too soon for relief to flood her. “If I do, then you will give me my salary every week? Like everyone else.”

“Yes.” It looked as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, but he nodded grimly and waved her away.


She stands as her act begins. She takes the bar in her hands and mutters a single word. “Please.”


For the first time she sits on her small terrace. The roof of her modest apartment shows a view of the lower city, the river, and the twinkling lights of the circus farther on. She is cradled in her lover’s arms. It is the first time she has left the circus in six years and the first time she has been with her lover without fear.

“We can be together now,” he whispers in her ear. He feeds her a strawberry she bought at the market that day, glowing with pride as coins clinked in her purse.

The next morning she is late to arrive at the circus.

“It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?” The ringmaster asks her as the whip sounds across her back. Her body is shuddering against the ground, tears and mud streak her face. The torque restricts and she gasps for breath, clutching at the collar. “If you are late again, you will both regret it.”

That night her lover rubs aloe into her back. She whimpers with every stroke and he cries with her. He holds her gently late into the night.

“You will regret being with me,” she says, trying to push him away from her. He clutches her closer, holds her to him as hard as he dares.



“We should leave this place,” he says to her one night. The night is so hot they are forced outdoors. Over the years the view from the terrace has changed little. Some of the buildings are higher but the lights of the circus still shine brightest.

“We could travel,” he continues, oblivious to the fall of her face, lost in his dream. “There are other cities we could go to, better places. We could go to Paris or New York.”

She shakes her head sadly and slightly touches the golden collar at her neck. She swoons from the power it emits, surging into her body through her fingertips, reminding her why she can never leave. She grabs her lover’s hand and squeezes it as if for the last time. “You know there is no escape… for me.”

He knows the tone in her voice, he has loved her for a very long time. He lays his fingers lightly on her cheeks and kisses her dark lips. His plan is forgotten in the night.


Sleepwalking has plagued Nailah since she was very young. More than once the night has taken her too close to the cities borders. Tonight is no exception. She wakes on the city wall, staring out over the deserts she can never cross. She tries to sneak home but it is too late. She was too close to the border. She hears sounds of pursuits behind her and begins to run.

She runs down the cobbled streets, her bare feet aching as they hit the stone. She slows as she comes to a fork in the road. She can hear the thundering footsteps behind her and hear the shouts. She doesn’t know whether to turn left or right. Before she knows it, they’re on her from all sides. A torch is held high, illuminating her face and that of her assailant. The ringmaster sneers at her like he always does. His beady eyes hold sadistic laughter and scorn.

“I told you,” he snarls, shoving his gnarled face closer to hers. “I told you that you’d never be able to leave me.”

The collar tightens and her hand flies to it. It constricts further and her face turns purple as she struggles to breath, and amid the laughter of the ring master and his ruffians she falls helplessly to the ground.


Nailah wakes in a cold sweat, not knowing how she has returned home. The night has gone chilly and her windows are ajar. She stands to shut them but is trapped by the lights of the circus. She is still standing and staring when her lover wakes at dawn. He pulls her from the window. As she bathes and eats, his eyes never leave her. He walks her all the way to the circus though she insists he doesn’t. He risks painful punishment if he reaches the stables late.

“I will come to your show tonight,” he says. It is unnecessary. He always goes to her shows; night after night she searches for him in the crowd before she takes her first leap. She nods and rests her head in the crook of his shoulder. He is warm and the most beautiful man she has ever met. She knows that she will miss him. She prays that he will miss her too.

She sees the ring master coming near and pushes her lover away. “You must go,” she whispers. One last kiss and she runs from him. In a hidden corner she kneels, remembering his touch and his scent. She fingers the collar at her neck, remembers how many people over the years had told her it was beautiful. She is convinced these people’s eyes are never fully open.


It is night when Nailah grasps the polished wood of her bar and gazes over the audience. They wait in hushed anticipation, breaths held, for her to perform. She wants to find her lover’s face but forces herself to look away. She knows the tears are falling freely now but she doesn’t care, it’s not the first time she’s cried up here. She looks down at the nets below her. Nets she knows haven’t been repaired or reinforced for years. Gracefully, she takes the first daring leap and, lifting her fingers one by one, she lets go and falls.

The Great Gatsby: A Biased Review



The Great Gatsby, directed by Baz Luhrmann, was mighty disappointing. I was so bored, just waiting for it to end. My sister, who had seen it the day before and fell asleep, fell asleep again. I just sat with wide eyes wondering how Leo could do this to his career.

But when I really started thinking about it, I couldn’t come up with a good, concise reason why it was bad. It was slow, yes, but many movies are slow and not terrible. And anyone who has read the book knows that The Great Gatsby is sooooo very sloooowwww.

Continuing to think about it, the movie actually did almost everything right, with two big flaws, and one fatal flaw.

What the movie did right: 

The Cast: Leo D, Spider-Man, and Carey Mulligan (Whovians will know her as one Sally Sparrow) blew their roles out of the water. DeCaprio played Gatsby with all the charm and schmooze and desperate hope that the character demands. Toby Maguire played the nervous but willing Nick Carroway to a T, and Mulligan was absolutely perfect as Daisy; she absolutely encompassed the character. Looking at her was like looking at the epitome of 1920’s exuberance.


The Costumes: To. Die. For. Costume porn. If you’re the type of person who will see a movie just for the costuming or set design, you will not be disappointed by this film. Flapper dresses and hats I wish were still in style. Elegant and flamboyant, with all the energy the 20s insisted upon.




The Craze: I  remember being really confused when I read The Great Gatsby because so many scenes were just literally, out of control crazy. Over the top, expensive, extravagant drunks. This is probably the entire reason Luhrmann was the director of this film, who is known for other chaotic movies like Moulin Rouge! and Romeo + Juliet.

“People were not invited — they went there. They got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island, and somehow they ended up at Gatsby’s door. Once there they were introduced by somebody who knew Gatsby, and after that they conducted themselves according to the rules of behavior associated with amusement parks. Sometimes they came and went without having met Gatsby at all, came for the party with a simplicity of heart that was its own ticket of admission.”

The movie did this exceptionally well. Everything was over the top, too much, too fast, too expensive, too extravagant, too loud, etc, etc. Scenes that in the book were difficult to read because it’s difficult to write craze came to life on the screen and you felt you were going to crazy with them. And it’s a great metaphor for the live’s of the characters. They are out of control and so their surroundings are out of control. Images cannot do this feeling justice, it has to be watched so it can be lived.

Following the Book: It has been a good long while since I read Gatsby but my sisters have read it sooner and tell me it’s pretty spot on. Unfortunately, a book that focuses strongly on emotional connections translates to a boring movie when you’re trying to make that movie a wash of constant excitement. Once the parties stop and Gatsby and Daisy are reunited, it’s a snore fest all the way to Gatsby’s not-so-dramatic death. Why this is so sad is because in the book it’s the opposite , once the parties stopped and the real focus on the relationships began, the book was so much more interesting.

Why I think the movie bombed:

The Big Flaws

The Green Light: This is a personal pet peeve of mine. My original reading of The Great Gatsby in high school was RUINED by the obsession with the damn green light. What does the green light mean? What does it symbolize? Who is it important to? Does its meaning change throughout the book? And it was like the writers of the movie all took the same English class that I did and just had to obsess about the green light the entire movie. There are so many mentions of the green light that I now have a better understanding of the symbolism of the damn light than when it was spelled out to me by my English teacher. And it assumes the stupidity of the audience. We don’t need a dozen references to get the metaphor. It’s about hope and dreams and greed and how things change and ugh.

green light

The Music: One of my FB friends put it this way, “The music killed it for me. It’s just not right hearing Jay-Z while watching a 20’s themed movie!” and I have to agree. The music tried to “modernize” the film but it was the only modern tactic adopted. It’s like when theaters do Macbeth and they use guns and wear traditional garb but still follow the Shakespearean language. It’s off-putting. Jay-Z, Beyoncé, Fergie, and Gotye are just a few of the artists that contributed music to the movie. And again it’s all about the energy and chaos, but a 1920’s romp should have had a 1920’s musical backdrop. For the entire soundtrack click here

The Fatal Flaw

Narration/Assuming the audience is stupid: Anyone who’s ever been in a class to write anything even slightly creative has heard the phrase, “Show, don’t tell.” This means that instead of telling the reader a character is mad, show them by their actions, etc etc. In movies this is usually not difficult to accomplish because it’s all visual and dialogue. But because Gatsby is a long and actually fairly complicated story, Luhrmann decided to have Carroway narrate the entire film like he does in the book. The problem here is that having a movie narrated the entire damn time takes away from your ability to immerse yourself into it. You are made to sit in place of the narrator rather than the characters and because of that you feel like you’re on-the-outside-looking-in the entire time. If there was symbolism here, about looking through the window into other people’s lives, it backfired horrendously. Taking artistic license to get us out of Carroway’s head and more into Gatsby’s and Daisy’s would have made the film tenfold more enjoyable.

The other issue with the narration is that it takes away the from the audience’s ability to infer the message. At the end of the movie Carroway spells it out for the audience who has been watching for long enough to figure it out for themselves.

“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy- they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

Yes, a direct quote from the book, but it summed the movie up so tidily that it left something lacking. And now that I think about it, the direct book quotes were another issue. Every time someone said something that was from the book it was so jarringly obvious. It was like the writers weren’t good enough to match Fitzgerald’s genius lines so everything was so bland and average that every time a Fitzgerald line was spoken it was so transparent you wanted to continually facepalm. It didn’t flow. And it was boring. Man oh man was it boring.

So there you have it. The Great Gatsby did a lot right and a lot wrong. My overall reaction is something along the lines of this:


Nerd is Teh Word

This post is inspired by an argument I got into with a friend about the word Nerd and who is nerdy, what being a nerd means, etc and onward. (For the sake of clarity, I am going to use nerd/geek interchangeably because I no longer believe there is any real difference.)

I mean to address a few key questions in this post:

Who is a nerd?

Can anyone be a nerd?

Is being called a nerd an insult/when is being called a nerd an insult?

What’s the difference between being a nerd and “Nerding Out”?

Is there a “Nerd Community”?

Are all nerds intelligent?

I am going to begin with a basic dictionary definition:

Mirriam-Webster defines nerd as: an unstylish, unattractive, or socially inept person;especially : one slavishly devoted to intellectual or academic pursuits

Dictionary.com: a stupid, irritating, ineffectual, or unattractive person; an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with anonsocial hobby or pursuit

Well. I think those definitions need to be updated. We all know that is no longer what being a nerd is all about. Let’s try urbandictionary.com

1. An individual persecuted for his superior skills or intellect, most often by people who fear and envy him.

2. An ‘individual’, i.e. a person who does not conform to society’s beliefs that all people should follow trends and do what their peers do. Often highly intelligent but socially rejected because of their obesssion with a given subject, usually computers. Unfortunately, nerds seem to have problems breeding, to the detriment of mankind as a whole.

Okay… maybe I should try geek instead.

Mirriam-Webster: a person often of an intellectual bent who is disliked, an enthusiast or expert especially in a technological field or activity

dictionary.com: a computer expert or enthusiast (a term of pride as self-reference, but often considered offensive when used by outsiders), a peculiar or otherwise dislikable person, especially one who isperceived to be overly intellectual.

Urbandictionary.com: Not to be confused with nerd. A geek does not have to be smart, a geek is someone who is generally not athletic, and enjoys Video Games, Comic Books, being on the internet, and etc.

Well, that’s the closest the definition comes and it is still so, so, so lacking. I identify as a “Nerd Girl” I tell my friends, “You’re such a nerd,” as a term of endearment, I pretend to take away people’s “Nerd Cards” when they haven’t seen something like, I don’t know, The Avengers.

But if you try to pinpoint an exact definition of what a nerd or a geek is, you don’t get a really accurate description of the kind of 20th Century person who takes these labels on with pride. I couldn’t be happier to be a nerd.

There is a real, tangible reason for this: pop culture. Everything comes down to pop culture, it would seem. You have Spider-Man, and Batman, and Iron Man. You have X-Men, and Thor, and The Green Lantern (No matter how awful that was.) You have The Big Bang Theory, King of the Nerds, and Game of Thrones.

You have shows like Bunheads, about small town ballerinas, making references to Game of Thrones saying things like, “No one steals Khaleesi’s dragons!”

You have LOTR, Harry Potter, Twilight, and Hunger Games (Bunheads also has some pretty hilarious Hunger Games mentions).

THIS IS THE TIME OF THE NERD. Pop culture icons like Marvel and Joss Whedon and JJ Abrams have taken nerd classics like sci fi, fantasy, wizards, dragons, science, magic and made them mainstream.

DOCTOR WHO. I’m assuming that Doctor Who is the single most-watched television show in the entire world and I can’t think of anything nerdier!

Supernatural, Sherlock, Dexter, Grimm, Once Upon a Time, True Blood. These are all extremely nerdy shows that somehow every day people have started watching. And because everyday people are showing up for the ratings, us NERDS benefit greatly.

(It’s occurring to me that this might be a very long blog post. I will try to break it up with some fun graphics!)


Who is a nerd?


I mostly agree with this statement but what I don’t agree with, and what I got into an argument with my friend about, is that anyone can be a nerd. Well, anyone can because a nerd but I don’t think that being passionate about something means you’re a nerd. Here comes that difference between being a nerd and nerding out.

I think if someone is really into sports and gets really into Fantasy Football, and stats, and knowing all the players, they are nerding out. I don’t think this makes them a nerd. And the reason I don’t, is because the average person who nerds out about sports, would not feel they fit into the “nerd community.” They might not appreciate it if after listing off a long string of stats someone said, “Man, you’re such a nerd.” They might find it insulting.

(There are of course exceptions. Wil Wheaton is a huge nerd who also frequently nerds out about the LAKings. If his only nerdy quality was his intensely passionate feelings towards the LAKings, I wouldn’t label him as a nerd. He probably also wouldn’t wear the horse head.)


So what’s the difference between someone who watches Game of Thrones and is a nerd? Someone who liked the Avengers movies and is a nerd?

Nerd goes beyond watching and enjoying.

Nerd is about how you experience things, nerd is about what you do with the things you love. One of my friends is knitting a mobile, talking Dalek from Doctor Who, another of my friends is building herself a Tangled costume, another bought all the Avengers BluRays in a SHEILD briefcase with a replica tersseract and personnel folders for all the characters. I have an in-box, limited edition Hunger Games Barbie doll on my dresser, Sirius Black’s wand, a Hedwig pillow, etc, etc etc.

Nerds go to conventions, they hold viewing parties, they line up at midnight to see movies other people haven’t heard of (Dragonball, anybody?) Nerds FREAK THE FUCK OUT when things are awesome, they hold their breath when their favorite characters might die, they make scenes in the movie theater when awesome things happen.

Just this morning I saw the trailer for Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D and I freaking hyperventilated in front of my computer. #coulsonlives

coulson lives

Nerds don’t only love The Avengers, they know that Joss Whedon wrote and directed it. They know every other project that Joss Whedon has ever worked on. They know that Joss Whedon was the reason Rex is part of Toy Story. NERDS STILL LOVE FIREFLY TEN YEARS AFTER IT WAS CANCELLED. Nerds would take a bullet for Nathan Fillion, Neil Patrick Harris, or Felicia Day.

Nerds love things that have passed. I open my pinterest page on any given day and there are still 2 or 3 people posting things about Buffy or Firefly or Harry Potter. We love what we love forever.


Nerds spend $300 at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter and plan for their Doctor Who themed weddings. Nerds watch Castle because it has Nathan Fillion in it and The Decoy Bride for David Tennant.

So… to calm down for just a moment… I think that being a nerd means not only liking something that isn’t exactly mainstream, but also loving it to the point that you feel the need to interact with it in some way. I don’ t think someone who nerds out about sports or fishing or travel can be considered a nerd on those criteria alone. Someone who nerds out about activities that are primarily socially accepted really don’t understand what it is to be a nerd. No one says to a travelling football fan, “You’re such a nerd,” but my mom says it to me when I explain that the reason there’s a nerf gun in pieces in the basement is because I’m making a Steampunk gun for a costume. She also says I’m my father’s daughter, but that’s completely unrelated.

Is there a nerd community?

Abso-fucking-lutely. It’s not hard to find either. Facebook, tumblr, pinterest. All of these sites, not really originally meant for this purpose, have become nerd hubs. Pinterest began a DIY site, and if you only follow certain people, you can keep it that way. But with just a few searches and follows, suddenly your entire home board is an array of Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, science and math jokes, Harry Potter, etc, etc. I barely need to leave pinterest anymore to get my nerd fix. With new images and quotes and jokes and theories coming out every day, it’s like nerdvana up in there.

And the thing about community is that you can find someone wherever you go. At the grocery store last week my clerk casually mentioned that he was going home to watch his shows. I asked what he watched and 20 minutes later we were in a rapt conversation about Doctor Who, Castle, and Firefly.

Is being called a nerd an insult?

That really depends. If my friends call me a nerd, it’s not an insult because they are also nerds. When my mom calls me a nerd it’s more out of exasperation and confusion, she doesn’t know what to do with me. But she honestly does try to relate! Last week she sent me a text saying, “There’s a new Star Trek movie coming out soon!” as if I didn’t know, but she tries!

But the terms nerd and geek started as insults and every word that’s ever been taken back can still be used to sting. People, less-enlightened, non-nerd, red-neck people, will still try to use it as an insult. But it’s like telling a homosexual, “You’re so gay.” Well yes… what of it? I love being a nerd and no close-minded sports loving, camouflage wearing jerkface is going to make me think differently.

Are all nerds smart?

Now here is where the new definition greatly diverges from the old. No, not all nerds are smart. Because being a nerd is no longer about your intelligence or your computer skills. It’s about what you love and how you love it. In the show King of the Nerds, contestants were expected to be very smart in many areas, but this isn’t the general case. Nerds, like any other type of person, vary in intelligence and skill. I prefer the smart nerd, but that doesn’t mean the less intelligently inclined can’t be just as batshit crazy about Batman as anyone else.

Man… I think that’s it. Whew.

you like stuff

Happy, Happy


Tomorrow Governor Mark Dayton will sign the bill into legality and then Minnesota will officially the 12th US state to legalize gay marriage. 

I am allowing myself this day to be excited, to celebrate, to be truly happy for all of my dear, dear friends who will be able to legally marry under the eyes of whoever they damn well please. 

This is a happy day.