Blaarghful Neglection

The authors of this blog are fully aware of how absolutely neglectful they have been. It's so bad that, if Blaargh was a child, CPS would have taken it out of their custody weeks ago. They are very repentant of their irresponsible ways, however, said ways will not be rectified until further notice.

Deepest apologies,
                            C&L, Authors and Not Really But Sort of Publishers of The Blaargh Blog.


This Is How It Goes

On a good day this is what should happen.
Tomorrow I'll post what happens on a bad day.

Blaargh - GAME OVER.


A Picture is Worth...well, this one's worth nothing.

So I've always said that I have no artistic ability when it comes to paint and pencils and stuff like that. But I have these really funny illustrations in my head when I'm writing posts, and today I decided give it a try. The result is below.
Even with a Paint Program, I SUCK. But it's kind of funny...in a pathetic, Blaargh-ish sort of way. Blaargh may evolve. He looks a little too fat.

Blaargh Versus Coffee


Blaargh Hates Coffee

This morning is full of Blaargh. There are lots of petty reasons for this - I didn't sleep well because I decided to run last night and my calves rebelled and thought that torturing me at all hours of the night would be fun, my head feels all weird and fuzzy, and I don't want to go to work. But the biggest reason is an appalling lack of coffee in my house.

 Now, I have never abused coffee as a 'wake-me-up' substance. The only reason I have ever drank coffee is because I actually love. it. so. much. If you want to send me into a state of euphoria, open a bag of coffee beans and wave it under my nose.

 Here is where Blaargh and I conflict. Blaargh has a hunch that coffee's sole purpose is to replace him, to banish him far away into a miniscule filing cabinet in the corner of my mind, neatly contained between letters B and C. So he tries to sabotage my efforts to find coffee with "This chair is so comfy! I could probably just fall asleep right here. The coffee shop is sooooo faaaaar awaaaaay."

 You shall not prevail, Blaargh! I have no real fondness for you *even though I have dedicated this blog to you*. Away I shall march and get coffee! (The word 'march' is of course illustrative - I shall actually be using a car.)


Illustrations? I think so!

Pictures are coming to The Blaargh! Well, possibly not actual pictures. But vague shapes that feebly attempt to illustrate our point. (Of course, there normally isn't a point with Blaargh, but that's beside the point of this post.)

Can you express your reactions?

There are new ways to share your feelings towards Blaargh and towards us. At the bottom of the post, please note the various reactions you can choose. If your reaction is too unique to actually fit into a box, then pleeeeaaase post a hilarious comment.


Weird Little Germ Virus

There's this horrible little feeling you get in the morning when you realize that you haven't quite woken up even after two cups of coffee. Then all of a sudden you realize, 'Oh yeah wait, I'm not dreaming, caffeine-desensitized, or brain-dead - I'm getting sick!' and then you remember how awful it is to be sick. So you try and you try and you try to NOT be sick by pretending that you just haven't had enough coffee yet and that's the real reason you haven't fully woken up. Down goes another cup of coffee. And bye bye goes your voice.

Sometimes I wonder how exactly I get sick.

Me - Hm, maybe it's the sugar intake. Damn those oreos last night.
Me #2 - Yes, because eating two oreos after cutting yourself off from processed, sugar filled foods will really make you sick within 24 hours.
Me - Good point. Oh make a bet I know. Mom was finally right! I don't wear enough clothes.
Me #2 - Yeah and how many years has she been telling you that and how many times have you gotten sick?
Me - Ummmm.... I stole Mike's food. Maybe HE was sick! That's it that's it that's it! He was sick! AGH how dare he give me this!
Me #2 - For some reason, I doubt that theory.
Me - Why?
Me #2 - Don't question me.
Me - Might have been my boyfriend. I should stop kissing him. Either way, I shouldn't kiss him. Because either he got me sick, or I'll get him sick. Yeah, not kissing him anymore. No more kissing. Ever. It's bad.
Me #2 - I shouldn't have to tell you how stupid and ridiculously improbable, if not impossible, that is.
Me - Stop shooting down my theories!
Me #2 - Stop having stupid theories!
Me #3 - I'm kinda hungry...
Me + Me #2 - Oh shush.

Yeah so apparently tracing the origins of an acquired cold is nearly impossible unless you're some mad scientist with a ton of equipment from the future and you can go back in time and perform tests on everyone you ever had contact with from the beginning of the incubation time of whatever weird little germ virus you may or may not, but probably do, have. That was the longest sentence ever.

Update: So just to avoid confusion, in reference to my not kissing my boyfriend ever 'cause it's bad, that doesn't mean at all that my boyfriend is a bad kisser. It just means that kissing is bad. But it's not. I'm gonna stop talking now.


The Dangers of Imaginary Conversations

You know those conversations when outside you're talking to someone like a normal human being, but inside you're having a completely different conversation with them and imagining all kinds of ridiculous scenarios? And it gets to the point where the inside conversation starts interfering with your behavior in the outside conversation? *sigh* I'm going to have to give an example, aren't I? Okay.

Other Person font
Outside You font
Inside You font
*Imagined scenarios and dialogue*
(I like how boring the Other Person font is)

OP - Hi! Wow I haven't seen you in a while. How is everything?
OY - Going great! It has been a while, not since...
IY - Who on earth is this? Leave an opening in the conversation so they can give you a clue.
OP - I know, like months. Did you find another job?
OY - I did actually. Working at the Awesome Store and having a blast. I really love it there.
IY - Crap, they didn't say where we saw each other last. How on earth did they know I was looking for a job? How long have I been working at the Awesome Store now? Like five months? Six months? Did I ever fill out a W4?
OP - Oh Em Gee I love that store! It's so awesome! I haven't been in for a while - I remember one time...(blathers on incessantly about the Awesome Store.)
OY - (Nodding along and laughing in ten second increments)
IY - Okay, a name. What is their name? Jill? Bob? Casey? Peter! It's awkward now that I've pretended to know who they are. I could just be like 'I'm so sorry, your name has slipped my mind'

*imagine the word Peter taking a Bambi-like sprawl on the slippery surface of your brain and start snickering. Immediately disguise the snicker as a response to whatever it is OP has said*

IY - But what if they're the type of person who gets ridiculously offended by people who don't remember their name? And they suddenly morph into a green alien magician and cause me to choke on my gum as punishment? Why did I decide to chew gum?!

*start planning a fake coughing fit so you can get rid of your gum. Imagine the coughing fit taking a disastrous turn and causing you to actually choke on your gum. Panic and wonder if OP knows the Heimlich Maneuver. What if they don't? And then you die tragically in the street because of GUM?!*

OY - (start laughing hysterically and fail the conversation)
OP - (looks at you like you're a crazy person because your response is waaaay overkill for the lame joke they just told.) Okay, well I really have to go. (waddles away as fast as possible)

*imagine a really huge penguin*

OY - (collapses from laughter)

(I was going to reference a bunch of penguins but couldn't decide if it would be a FLOCK of penguins or a HERD of penguins. So now there is a really huge penguin. And now penguin doesn't look like a word. Penguin penguin penguin penguin.)


Blaargh Doesn't Know What Day It Is

So I have really weird dreams a lot of the time. Most of them aren't so pleasant but some are just really funny. So at 1 A.M I woke up from a dream but I really thought I was still dreaming and in my state of dreaming-not-dreamingness I text my boyfriend. And he was absolutely darling and we ended up talking for an hour (I feel really really horribly bad about this by the way but he swears it was ok). So then I go back to sleep and have more really weird dreams. Then I have to get up and I fall out of bed and stumble into the hallway and trip over a box before finally making it, battered and bruised, into the bathroom where I proceed to almost fall into the shower. Falling into, yes into not out of, the shower is a fairly normal occurrence for me. Let's blip ahead about 5 hours to now. I'm talking to my boyfriend, because we're weird and like to talk, and said something about how yesterday must have been Tuesday because, obviously, today is Wednesday. Here is what followed...
Boyfriend: "Umm... Babe? Today is Tuesday."
Me: "Uh no it's not."
Boyfriend : "Yes, it is."
Me: "Oh... Well... Blaargh."
This is obvious proof that Blaargh doesn't know what day it is. Thank god for boyfriends who do.


Blaargh is Bad at Math

So this morning I woke up, took a shower, made myself look like a normal human being, and got on facebook before going to voice lesson. At least, that was the plan. I ended up getting completely distracted finding songs on YouTube and commenting on like a thousand people's status on facebook and before I knew it, I was already late for voice lesson. I FLEW out the door, forgetting a coat. I RAN back in the house and looked all over the universe for my coat before finding it right next to the door where I put it earlier so I wouldn't forget it. BACK to the car I go, wondering where on earth my keys are. They were in the ignition where I left them when I started up the car to warm it up before realizing the absence of my coat. *I die*

After voice lesson I went to the bank to deposit money. Charisa should never ever EVER do math without the help of a calculator. In my infinite wisdom, I decided that 200 minus 20 equals 190.

Yes, I haven't medicated Blaargh with coffee yet.


Introducing Bing!

Apparently Blaargh has a split personality. Blaargh is a mental state which can hinder your productivity during the day, and last night I met the nighttime version - Bing!

Bing! has the habit of showing up on nights when you most need sleep. Say you have to get up early for work the next day - now we're talking reeeeaally early, like before 6am. (By the way, that is one of the most ungodly hours to ever exist in the first place, and if anyone is remotely sane they will be in bed under the covers, experiencing the sweetest, most delicious stage of sleep possible. But I digress.) So you would naturally plan on getting good sleep in hopes of negating the horrific mental scarring of having to hear your alarm go off so early. You brush your teeth, get on your comfiest, favoritest jammies, kiss things goodnight, and crawl under the covers. But there is a problem; your pillow suddenly seems to be made of the Rocky Mountains and is jabbing and poking into your skull. This is slightly uncomfortable. You sit up and gently punch and pound the pillow into submission before flopping down again. Okay, reset.

 Just as you get comfortable, Bing! shows up. "Did I set my alarm?" Your eyes reluctantly open. Did you? Mentally you retrace your steps before getting into bed...of course you set the alarm. You always set the alarm. Unless..."Did I?"  The consequences of not setting your alarm and oversleeping start playing through your head, afflicting you with Poky Stress Syndrome (hereafter referred to as PSS). With a mangled growl of frustration that sounds something like "HGHRmmmllgrrnl" you haul yourself up to check the alarm.

You'd already set it.

But now that Bing! got you to actually listen, he wont be going away any time soon. You start thinking the most random things, and then start wondering how you actually became such a random person. It could go something like this:

"Ugh I'm uncomfortable. There's something in the bed...it feels like...a rock? No why would a rock be in the bed. Oh that was a cool rock at the beach today. Did I pick it up? I got that shell...omg seafood is gross. Why would people eat a clam? I'm hungry now. No I just had dinner - the dishes! Did I remember to soak that pan? And the laundry! Turn over laundry in the morning. And clean the bathroom. Can I use bleach on lead-based painted walls? I wonder if Myth Busters has tried that. Will there be some kind of chemical reaction that will blow up in my face and then I'll have to wear a veil for the rest of my life because - like a nun. Nuns don't wear veils. Do they? I want to watch the Sound of Music again! How do you solve a problem like Maria...*continue mentally singing every single song from the Sound of Music, The King and I, and Oklahoma*. Okay shut up! No more songs! What if Lord of the Rings had music! Oh I would always sing those songs. Viggo Mortenson is yum. Wow I'm random - if there was a prize for Most Random Thoughts While Trying To Sleep Person I would totally win."

This is what Bing! does. Bing! and Blaargh need to switch places.


This is a big moment

The first post on this blog probably should have been written in a state of Blaargh. However, we wouldn't have been able to think clearly enough to even create this totally cool page if Blaargh inhabited our minds, therefore it wasn't. I think you should have a brief description of Blaargh and how it works. It just does. That is all. If you've ever been under the influence of Blaargh...
Thus my train of thought has been lost. Blaargh may be in effect after all.
One more thing - when in doubt, blame Blaargh. Like Mr. Bimbo!