Dick Talk with Seth Rogen

Ye Gods Above, I despise Seth Rogen. Dick this, cock that, balls here and anuses there, and for all the Herculean attempts at forcing a single obligatory chuckle out of the popcorn overstuffed maws of his fanyboys, Seth Rogen remains permanently, painfully, unfunny. Seth Rogen is not funny, and neither are any of his dicks.

I have the urge to put a picture here. But I won't.

The Cat Post

I'll have you know right now that I'm no hoarder. I don't 'collect' animals, or much in the way of anything for that matter, because I like maneuverability (is that a word?... anyway, it is now) and a certain amount of mobility. That is slowly beginning to change. My days as the perma-guest in other people's homes are being replaced by my days as a puttering homebody in my OWN home (it may be a rental, but it's still a home, dammit!).

I blame this all on my cat, Desi.

She's clearly guilty of something. It's those penitential stripes, that's how I can tell. And see how she's lying around as though it were not only the most enjoyable use of her time, but obviously the ONLY use of her time? Like lying around is a pursuit, a honed skill even, and she is vying to become the Zen Master of Lying Around. This is virtually all she does, all the time. I stare at her a lot, seeing if I can make her nervous. Sometimes I poke her, just to make sure she's still breathing... Then again, in our house she's got some pretty stiff competition.
Anyway, the Zen Master does not motivate me to get up and git goin' so much as she motivates me to just lie back down and take a load off. Life's rough. Why not spend as much of it as you can on your back? And rolling leisurely over onto your side, changing position just often enough to ward off bed sores? Obligations? Bah! It's nap time, guys!
Anyway, world, that is my cat and this is the influence she has over my life. If you don't see me for the next 10+ years, it's because I'm hoarding animals in a warehouse down by the river. We spend glorious fat hours lolling from side to side between meals and sleeping away our cares.  Cares? What cares? It's nap time! Again!

...It's only creepy if you don't like cats...

...cute, cute, sleepy kitty cats, whose only expectation is that you feed them and pet them and love them and leave your inheritance to them, so later, when they take over the world, they have a fat little nest egg upon which to sleep between those exhausting sacrificial rituals in the name of Cheezburger. Cheezburger is an angry god...

But seriously, it is nice to have a cat. Despite society's obsession with my spinsterhood and it's correlation with cat ownership, not having a cat would be lonely, sad, and full of disappointingly sleepless nap times.

Three cheers for our furry friends! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrzzzzzz...

Samantha Psalt's Handy Handbook, Chapter One: The Event Invitation

 Miss Psalt at Play

Chapter 1

The Perils of Invitation

Hosting a ball, are you? If that is the case, why on earth have you turned to the infamous Facebook Event Invitation? No one has told you the inevitable and miserable fate of your meticulously typed general event invitation. No one has pulled you aside to whisper the hard truth in your delicate ear. Perhaps they are afraid, and rightly so, that you will swoon into their arms then and there, overwhelmed, breathless, one hand feebly clutching the mouse as though it were the only silk-fine tether still anchoring you to this Vale of Tears we call Internet.
Poor, poor soul. You might take your Facebook Event Invitation seriously, or even consider it an acceptable substitute to sending a note by telegram or mail. Samantha Psalt is here to inform you otherwise. As a matter of fact, the Facebook Event Invitation you have poured heart, wit and soul into will go largely unanswered and ignored.

(breathless pause, allowing time for the suddenly overwhelmed to be satisfactorily revived)

I am so sorry to break it to you this way, but your continued naivete was only giving the better members of society just cause to snub their noses at you. Real events (balls, weddings, state funerals, quinceaneras, bar mitzvahs, jousting tournaments, and the French Revolution) still require one to send out individual (yes, INDIVIDUAL) invitations, by hand, phone, telegram, or email. If you invite the unwashed masses of internet people in your acquaintance to your wedding via Facebook, don't bother renting out the bottom floor of the Taj Mahal; you will comfortably fit everyone who actually attends on the porch of your rental bungalow with room to spare for the caterers. Miss Psalt certainly won't be in attendance I can tell you, not without her off-white eggshell creme tinted wedding invitation wielded in front of her like the Mace of Traditional Observance.

The Facebook Event Invitation should be reserved for those events that involve an inordinate amount of standing, walking, moving about rhythmically, the viewing of film and theater, and anything involving anyone under the age of 25. As Facebook has deigned to avoid the enforcement of rules or establishment of etiquette pertaining to... well... well, to anything having to do with Facebook, I have taken it on myself to chalk out the boundaries past which knowing citizens shall not pass.


Rules for the Sender of the Invitation:
1) Explain thoroughly what it is that you are inviting your acquaintances to do. Don't leave anyone guessing, and don't ignore questions posted to the wall.
2) Any portraiture or pictures posted to the event must please Miss Psalt. In cases where Miss Psalt is not present to judge the quality of the posted pictures, assume that at least one person on your list does not want to see you naked. Try to avoid nudity in portraiture as a general rule. Nudity in the privacy of one's own bath is up to the discretion of the potentially nude.
3) Be very careful who you choose to not invite. If you decide to conspicuously not invite someone that you may see in similar circumstances (for example, you will see your mother at Christmas but feel that her presence at the birth of your first child is unnecessary), be aware that the chances of that snub remaining secret are intolerably low. Mother will be offended, and that won't improve her very public whiskey-fueled annual Christmas family-guilting spree one iota.
4) Be even more careful who you choose to invite. On second thought, wouldn't it be nice to go to Hawaii for Christmas this year? Just the two of us? And not Mother? Yes. Yes it would.
5) You are limited to two (TWO) invitation reminders for those churlish anti-social quadrupeds who can't be bothered to respond with a simple 'Yes', 'No', or 'Maybe'. Be polite yet direct in your reminder; you don't want to scare anyone off who just hasn't kept up with their demanding social calendar and hasn't seen the invite, but do let people know that you did bother to invite them to an event and are expecting some kind of response.
6) Don't ask too much of your guests. A guest only has so many hands to carry wine bottles and extra dishes and only so much time and money. It is the duty of the host to pull the party together and dismantle it afterward, not the guest.
7) Do remember that this is Facebook. Lower your Expectations and you shan't be too terribly disappointed.


Rules for the Receiver of the Invitation:
1) Respond. Respond, respond, respond. This is your primary duty as an invitation receiver; to respond. Is it so difficult? No. It's really, truly, not difficult at all. For those who are unsure they can attend, there are three options available and no one will begrudge you a 'maybe'. Properly explained, no one can logically begrudge you a 'no' (though some will try). The Host will rejoice at your 'Yes'.
2) If you say you are definitely going, go. There is no getting out of this one. To respond in the affirmative and fail to arrive will forever mark you as something called a 'flake'. Miss Psalt isn't entirely sure what that is, but it can't be pleasant.
3) If the host requires assistance in providing food or beverages, offer to bring one thing. One thing, dish or drink, is all that is necessary. Don't outdo yourself; the host will expect it of you in the future and that is a precedent you very likely don't want to set.
4) If you have a change of plans, excuse yourself from attendance, politely, and in advance if at all possible.
5) Be aware of what kind of event you have been invited to attend. Is it formal? Informal? Clothing optional? Will your plus one be greeted with cheer or politely masked confusion? What about your plus twelve? Plan accordingly.
6) Don't "suggest". It is not your event. Keep your impertinence tucked away for family gatherings.
7) Do remember that this is Facebook. Lower your Expectations and you shan't be too terribly disappointed.

Exceptions:
Excessively large public gatherings can be summarily dismissed, as well as invitations originating from those you purposefully intend to snub.

Well. Now that we have some rules, doesn't everyone feel better? Go forth, Facebookian, and invite!

Samantha Psalt's Handy Handbook on the Subject of Social Networking Etiquette

Miss Psalt in Repose

Introduction:

Well, children. It comes to this.
Despite futile attempts on the part of that seething hotbed of burgeoning criminality known as the "public school system" to reinforce the status quo and call it "education", things have deteriorated. Etiquette is long past its glory days. Remember those days? When the wealthy were eminently deserving and the poor knew their place? When there was an unassailable fortress of proper behaviors, mannerisms, languages, inheritance and pedigree that every "it" person possessed? I remember... But alas, with misty eyes and tremulous, heaving breast, I must now forge on alone, sans fortress, into the howling black void we call "modern times".

I am not without armament, however. Girded by the knowledge of how other people ought to behave, I press on through the abyss, the Light of Societal Expectations my beacon in the blackness of "familiarity". And what, pray tell, is the blackest pit at the bottom of the blackest pit in this 9th level of hell we so airily call Social Networking?

You know what it is, and it is not Google+. Facebook, prepare to stand up and be counted among the most foul of human endeavors. Stealer of innocence, murderer of dreams, awkward-maker of previously friendly acquaintances- there is a reason we humans are not forthcoming with every piece of information about ourselves to every other person we meet (besides the undoubtedly inconvenient and time-consuming nature of doing so). Natural relationships, naturally, have boundaries erected and unspoken rules imposed, both of which are designed to preserve said relationship. And relationships, Facebook, are hard enough as it is without you mucking them up. By tearing down all those boundaries and merrily skirting all the unspoken rules, you have single-handedly laid waste to the way that people communicate. Bra-vo. Don't try to argue that your too-little, too-late attempts at boundary building make up for years of acquaintanceship destruction. Backpedaling gets you nowhere you want to be.

Yet, all is not lost. Even here, children, even here, we can begin to enforce the rules that were so mercilessly discarded in the name of convenience, and the minute we begin to do so, right order and proper balance will return. Once again the knowing followers of the unspoken rules can beat the Club of Propriety over the heads of unwitting future generations in need of improvement (and believe you me, they desperately need improving upon).

Children, we may be few, but we are heavily armed. As Dog is my witness, we will bring Etiquette back to the social order if we have to shame and ridicule every last living Facebooker to do it!

Stay tuned for next week's chapter, titled 'The Invitation'.