HOLY CRAP I ALMOST FORGOT TO POST THIS.
CAN I TYPE MORE HERE LATER? MY MOM IS CALLING ME SAYING “HOW DO I USE THE DROP BOX TO SEND YOU THESE MOVIE PICTURES?”
THAT DOESN’T EVEN– whatever.
Basically I was like, “Hey you people in Internetvilleland! Send me your stupidest questions and I’ll answer them.”
So, that’s a thing you did.
And then this happened:
You may be thinking, “Wow, after last week’s drunken shenanigans, Lisa Foiles’s’s’s videos really can’t get stupider.”
WELL SIT BACK AND ASK SIRI TO LOCATE THE NEAREST MICHAEL’S CRAFT STORE BECAUSE IT’S DIY TIIIIIIIIIME.
I grew up in the 90’s as a very unfortunate-looking homeschooled child, and it’s a damn Christmas Miracle that I had any friends at all. But I did somehow, and in the company of those friends, I did dumb Nineties-type activities. These did not only involve wearing every type of bodily padding imaginable when rollerblading or cutting up tablecloths to create a Sailor Moon costume, both true FYI, but they also involved hours of creating stupid jewelry, keychains, and fake cell phones. Today, I’m sharing my worthless 90’s knowledge with you. Sorry.
This week’s video is creative, nostalgic, and REALLY FRIGGIN COLORFUL. Blindingly-colorful. It might break your computer’s video card. Your computer will be trying to process all the bright neon 90’s colors, all of which were used in the opening titles of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and overwork itself so violently that it just explodes. Or implodes. Imploding to me is a much more passive aggressive type of destruction. Like, I could make a big deal about this, OR I could just quietly collapse in on myself like a dying dwarf star and see if anyone notices my death which they probably won’t. *single emo tear*
Michael Bay should really switch to implosions. ……..Nah, he’d probably ruin those, too.
WATCH THIS WITH YOUR EYE PARTS:
In case my crafts weren’t incredibly clear to you and thoroughly well-explained as if I was communicating with a brain-fried chimp that just got back to Earth after a 5,000 year journey around the galaxy, then here are some screencaps, and then you can just Google that sh*t and have some other tool explain it to you. Honestly, I didn’t do this video for you. It was for me. And Kevin, because he enjoys colored beads. You’re on your own from here on out.
Heads up, it’s pokey.
Try making a lizard with a 4-foot long tail! It’s fun! And also takes for-effing-ever and looks super idiotic. Don’t do that.
“Hello? HELLO??????????? ….No, the reception problem is definitely on your side. I’m talking into an outdated aluminum juice pouch that previously contained liquid tasting like authentic Splash Cooler. Crystal clear on my end. Hello?”
Sometimes I have good ideas. This was not one of them.
…OR, maybe it was my best idea, and totally worth it just to make an entertaining video for you jerks. LET THE RING BEARER DECIDE. You are the ring bearer in this scenario.
When my dad died, he left me with wonderful memories, a love that lingers on, and, of course, a worsening alcohol allergy. Basically, he had, and I now have, a liver that screams “WHAT IS THIS CRAP” whenever it suspects that the cause of (and solution to) all of life’s problems has entered the premises. That poisonous bitch, Alcohol, was welcome in my body when I was 21, yet as the years have gone by, I pretty much can’t have more than 2 light beers without a sinus infection and a two-day hangover. THANKS, DAD.
Needless to say, it’s a rare instance that I get actually drunk these days. I say “actually” because I have such a low tolerance for the stuff that a half a wine cooler will pretty much make me ready to dance on park benches with strangers and sing “Semi-Charmed Life” at karaoke bars, and do you realize how long that song is? And how hard it is to sing? Because most people don’t realize that. And it’s painful for everyone.
BUT! Sometimes science trumps good and healthy decisions. You don’t think Louis Pasteur was like, oh, I’d love to keep making all these breakthroughs in science, but I’m so hungry that I should stop and consume sustenance. No. He powered through. And that’s when he discovered radiation.
You have to make sacrifices for science. You have to put your life on the line. You have to drink shots of Birthday Cake-flavored vodka and then fall down a lot. Oh, wait, that last one was just me. That’s what I did. Wanna watch? Okay here it is:
As soon as my written report is complete and the Presidents of Science are ready to see my PowerPoint presentation, assuming I can get the rights to some Oingo Boingo songs first, my career will probably take a drastic turn. I’ll have to wear one of those white lab coats and start creating dinosaurs with frog DNA and then raise my own dinosaur army and screw you Home Owner’s Association, how do you like the weeds in my lawn now? What’s that? You don’t have a lawn to compare it to because the dinosaurs destroyed your entire property in one vengeful stomp? SORRY MY BAD. *cracks whip at harnessed dinosaur army pulling me in a Roman chariot*
Wait what were we talking about
Normally, one would assume that a card game is an innocent way to pass time with friends, family, and fellow nerds you meet in convention hall lobbies, and NOT a small doomsday device with the ability to bring forth Biblical levels of death and destruction upon your household. Fair assumption. Exploding Kittens, however, is the latter.
The below video is a TRUE STORY. The footage may be shaky and blurry, as footage of unbelievably terrifying events often is, but I assure you, IT IS REAL.
HIDE YO KIDS HIDE YO WIVES
Exploding Kittens is a fantastic game. I was one of the backers of its Kickstarter and gladly threw more and more wads of cash at it when opportunities became available. For example, if you paid a bit extra, your card game would arrive in a fancy magnetic box. Cool, I said, I enjoy magnets. My game arrived in this box and I was happier than Kevin with crumpled up receipt paper. Seriously I buy that guy expensive cat toys with dinglies and danglies and all he wants is garbage. He’s really brought the class and sophistication of our house to an all-time low.
OKAY HERE IS THE VIDEO, WATCH AND BE WARY:
If you did not know about the Exploding Kittens Kickstarter because you are a monk who lives in the mountains somewhere brewing organic monkian ale and have no need for the Internet, or perhaps you knew about the Kickstarter but didn’t donate because you are a hateful, black-hearted former Hobbit who doesn’t wear pants anymore, then I advise that you buy Exploding Kittens RIGHT MEOW ha ha ha “meow.” It’s pretty much the funniest game I own, even funnier than Cards Against Humanity because every time I play Cards Against Humanity the comedy in my selections is clearly lightyears ahead of my opponents, with layers of complex humor and undertones of political satire, yet I NEVER GET SELECTED and some jerk’s fart joke wins every time.
Back to the game. It’s GREAT. I like games that are quick to set up and quick to tear down. Not like those games with 5,000 micro-figurines and boards that span two dining room tables, and you can only START playing after about 6 days of set-up. And by then we have completely run out of Cool Ranch Doritos. I don’t have time for that nonsense.
Exploding Kittens is every pretty girl you knew in high school: fast, dirty, and mean. You get drawings like “Potato Cat” and “Pig-A-Corn” and pretty much all those fanciful creatures you’ve come to love from The Oatmeal.
I mean, look at those. Those are great.
But as I mentioned in the video: the game is not the problem. It’s the box. I urge you to prove my theory by opening your meowing box around your own cats, and see if you have similar results. THIS IS FOR SCIENCE, PEOPLE. It’s not like we’re thoughtlessly trying to get our pets to murder each other for our own sick pleasure. It’s not like we want to film it and put it on the Internet and then monetize it and then obtain lots of dirty cat murdering money that we can spend on organic monkian beer. Obviously, there is a waiting list for the beer. So that’s completely out of the question.
Enjoy your little card game of death, and please, if you run into me in the lobby of a nerd convention, challenge me to a game. I’ll probably respond with, “I’m so sorry, I can’t right now!” but at least you tried.
Listen up, jerks: You’re beautiful and awesome.
Today’s video is how I came to realize that very concept, even though, yes, I still struggle with insecurities. Before it was my wonky teeth, which were screwed up in EPIC fashion, nowadays it’s my skin and my chipmunk cheeks and my toes that are ugly and calloused thanks to years of dancing in pointe shoes. Have you worn those things? They are like Dr. Scholl’s worst nightmare. It’s pretty much like shoving your bare feet into two empty Mac & Cheese boxes and then walking around on your toes all day. That might be my weakest analogy ever but the mental picture is solid.
I’m sure you have dumb crap you hate about yourself, too. I say, EMBRACE IT. Laugh about it. Let other people laugh with you. It’s too much effort to convince yourself and everyone else that you belong in the “normal” category – that’s pretty much the most boring of all categories. Oh, and guess what? Everyone around you is JUST AS INSECURE AS YOU ARE. We’re all just trying to keep it together until we can get home and watch Netflix in our underwear.
You laugh at me, I’ll laugh at you, and then we’ll go get Big Gulps and check out that third season of House of Cards. I bet Frank is gonna not kill people. You in?
Now, crank up your pathetic Mac speakers and listen to my favorite Sugarbomb song. If you’re a Van Wilder fan, it may sound familiar!
Yes, the whole album is that good. I should mail you all CDs because I’m sure my mom has hoarded thousands of them.
In case you are too lazy to pause the YouTube video, and WOW is that lazy, here are some of the pics from my “Bully” photoshoot. Because just the other day I was thinking, maybe the Internet needs more embarrassing photos of me.