"Bang, bang. You're dead." Life lessons gleaned from excessive viewing of I.D's "Deadly Women"

Do you watch Investigation Discovery? If not, you should. Not just because now that it's getting more popular there are official T-shirts, but also because it's the best of the worst television out there. Its melodramatic campy reenactments of various murderous felonies  have not only kept me entertained for hours on end, but have taught me many things about life.

Let's begin:

1. Never take in a lodger/tenant

Sure you might need the money. But think, do you need that money more than you need to be alive? Because in my "Deadly Women" experience, if that tenant is a girl, she's gonna kill you and your wife for $300 of petty cash and your Jeep Wrangler. If that tenant is a guy, he's gonna start sleeping with your wife, and they're gonna slowly poison you while taking advantage of you in your confused poisoned state by drafting numerous expensive new life insurance policies.

They're plotting your demise while you sleep.

They will laugh and make out a lot while they mix together your ice cream and arsenic, and then when they feel like you're not kicking the bucket fast enough, she'll convince the new guy to smother you with a pillow. They'll get caught but you'll be dead, so really, it hardly seems worth the trouble.

2. Also never take in a wayward granddaughter 

Grandchildren need love and sometimes, a firm guiding hand. Especially if they're young ruffians raising all sorts of heck. You might think you're the one to provide your grandchild with the loving guidance to help her get back on the right track.

You don't know what you're doing. Granddaughters are evil. Run.

Cause she will inevitably meet a boy. She'll be between 13 and 15. He'll be at least 25. Because this all needs to be as creepy as possible. He'll turn her into a goth and or a jerk, you'll fight a lot and forbid her to see him. She'll sneak out anyway. You'll probably slap her.

It's all fun and games till she starts dating that Satanist.

Then she and her cradle-robber will come over and push you down some stairs. I told you. Run as fast as your orthotics and bum hip will allow.

3. Apparently, based off numbers 1 and 2, the world is just teeming with crazies willing to team up to kill people.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I feel like if I turned to anyone in my life and was like, "Yo, this person is super annoying and irritating, and they wronged me so I'd like to kill them. Busy Saturday? Want to help?" their response would be "Nope, I'm gonna leave now, after I call 911. Bye."

But apparently, according to "Women" this is not the norm. No, the world is full of crazy women, who somehow find even crazier men, who like to join forces and whack people. I mean I like to bond over episodes of "Extreme Couponing" and spooning, but maybe I'm an old-fashioned gal.

4. Everyone in the world is apparently secretly Austrailian

So on this show they like to re-enact the events of the murder. The actors are always significantly more attractive than the actual perpetrators. This is about all the have going for them. Frankly the people in the Goldbond commercials have more acting skills.

Also, I can only guess that the show is produced in Australia, since, no matter where the case is set, from Indianapolis to Houston, the actors are all clearly Australian. Their accents are terrible. They all sound like they have peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouths. It's like a Canadian who maybe moved down to Memphis when they were 12 is talking. And it's perfect.

5. Candice DeLong is god.

She's a retired FBI profiler. She's been growing her hair out over the past few seasons. It was rocky for a while, but now that she's out of the initial "my hair isn't long but it isn't short" awkward phase, she's looking pretty good. And she occasionally spits out the best one-liners in the world.

My favorite has to be, "There are many things you need to make s'mores. A hunting knife isn't one of them." Preach Candice. Preach.


In conclusion, all I can assume from the lessons I've learned on this show is that pretty much everyone is an Australian faking an American accent who would like to to go on a murderous rampage.

Yep. Everyone ever is a murderer. Sleep tight!

Flirting: A Guide Part 2

So let's be real. That last flirting guide was to be taken in jest. If any of you were naïve enough to take it seriously, well, I'm really very sorry. Up next, however, I thought I'd help you all out, like, for real.

Below you will find some of my many cautionary tales. I can't list all of them because I'm assuming you want to finish reading before you die.

Without further ado:

1. A line that probably won't get him feisty:

So there was this kid in my poetry class. Voluntarily. POETRY amiright?? Cute AND had a thing for Wordsworth. And I knew he was straight (I was 75% sure he was straight). It was like winning the lottery. We lived in the same dorm and he had come over a few times (He had come over to stand in the doorway and borrow notes a few times).

Needless to say, I thought things were progressing nicely. So this one time after class, we're walking back to our building when out of nowhere, this happens:

Ted*: Hey so, since it's Friday and all I was wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out or something?

Jordan:............

Ted: Or are you busy?

Jordan: ......NO. No, I mean not really. I mean I was gonna Skype-watch a Jane Austen movie with my best friend tonight, but I can totally just do that on Saturday.

Ted: Um, yea, so I'll just be by around 7 then?

He was not around by 7. Or 8. Or ever again. "Pride and Prejudice" was however, just as magical that 137th time as it was all the others.

Why participate in life when Keira can do it for me?

*Ted wasn't his name. Neither was Frank.

2. How to identify what was not, in fact, a line at all:

So there was this other kid in my American Lit class, and he was blonde and beautiful and this one time he came in carrying a CD I had JUST DOWNLOADED AND LOVED so clearly we were meant to be together. He sat right in front of me. Every MWF. So I decided I could finesse this situation. Eavesdrop a little. Find out what he liked and stuff. I had nothing but time.

Then one day, I decided that was it. I was going to do it. I was going to say "hi" to plaid-shirt-dude and let fate take it from there. And I did! Ready for it?

PSD: ACHOO
Jordan: Bless you!
PSD: Thanks.

And here was my fatal mistake: Here I thought, job well done. Contact made. Spring wedding it is. But as for him? I think he called me Jenny once.

Does dinner and a movie work for you?

My point is this my loveless friends; "Bless you" is not a line. Neither is "Excuse me".

3.This one would've been a disaster anyways, but it really wasn't my fault:

Once again we find ourselves in a classroom. A history classroom this time. Gen eds, you understand. I had been sitting next to this super cute guy for half a semester, and we were actually talking. Not just "responding to natural bodily nose functions" talking either. Really talking. And he was so so nice. And I knew it wouldn't be long. Subtext will follow in () because everyone knows that as girls there are always at least two conversations happening at once;

Ben: Hey so that test was way hard. I thought I'd do a lot better. Crap.

Jordan: Yea, some of those questions were totally worded badly. It was confusing. (He is going to ask me to study with him.)

Ben: Hey, so can I borrow the notes from last Friday when I was out? I didn't feel well. I promise I won't make it a habit to skip and just mooch off of you.

Jordan: Um, well, that depends. See cause I like to outline the actual book as I read it, and then I also take notes in class during lecture. And then I like to go home and cross-reference and type out a final outline based on the most important parts from each outline. So if you wanna wait until I have the final one all typed up I can give it to you the next time I see you? (Should I bring him soup? Airborne? He's so considerate. I bet he'd plan nice dates.)

Ben: Wow, geeze, you're thorough. You wouldn't want to study for Friday's quiz would you? I could totally use the help.

Jordan: Um, sure! (It's happening. It's all HAPPENING! I'm baking cookies.)

Ben: Great! 8ish? We can meet at my dorm. It's in St. Joesph's.

Jordan: Wait...is that the...(Cling to hope. Cling to it!)

Ben: Seminary? Yea! I take my vows in like 2 more years. I'm super stoked. I just wanna get my degree first.

Jordan: Yep. Cool. See ya then. (He's not getting cookies. I'm going to hell).

Hot and "Collared"

Game. Set. Match. Praise God.

And that, dear readers, is all the advice I have for today. If you take care not to follow my example(s) you will be in no way closer to having a successful flirting life. You will, however be closer to NOT not having a flirting life. Doing what I did above probably brought me to level -3 in terms of flirting skills. Who are we kidding? -5. Learn from my mistakes and you'll probably break even.

That's all I can give you.

Transportation; A Plebeian Account

Good God I'm back! After the incredibly sorrowful and tearful (on my end) death of my beloved pink laptop, I was left utterly bereft and frankly felt like using a new computer was a huge betrayal. However, I now know that my dead laptop has no feelings, however if she did, she would be like the world begging Selina Gomez (aka me) to move on already. So here I am.

By the way, this laptop is black, and as I type I'm becoming increasingly certain that any ability of mine to be funny is actually possessed by crazily colored computers. So we'll see how this goes.

After seeing a passenger get smacked in the head by the foot of a child pole dancing on the subway while he should have been in school (This happens all the time. Like, ALL THE TIME.) I began reflecting on the strange beast the subway really is. This was made all the more possible thanks to the music I had blaring from my iPod in an attempt to drown out the couple screaming Hungruspolian or whatever terrifying language that was. And so we have a playlist, a musical narration if you will, for all of the experiences that await you on one of New York's, nay, the world's, strangest modes of transportation.

1. When the train is super full...

...or perhaps (even more disturbingly) when it is not.

2. When you see that homeless person sleeping on one of the benches and it's like 2 degrees outside and you don't understand why life is so damn unfair? This is also the night you not only went out to eat, but ate 1/4th of your food and refused a box because carrying it just seemed... Really. Really. Hard. Like that cold plastic seat that man is now sleeping on. You monster.

Anne gets it. Sure you relate more to Eponine, but what girl doesn't? Seriously, what girl because her life was obviously a lot easier than mine and that's not fair.

3. When you suddenly stop feeling bad because then you smell the poor homeless man.

I'm sorry you're homeless. If I give you a dollar can I breath again?

4.When you finally manage to fight and squeeze and endure gropings enough to get a seat....and then a million nursing home residents and kids on field trips and pregnant women get on.

But you do. You do move. Because you believe in decency. And because you need karma points since you didn't feed that homeless guy who is still out cold.

5. That horrific moment you accidentally make eye contact. Or emote. 

No! Wait! You want to live!

6. What to do after you've smiled/ you feel like you've been on here far too long.

I'm glad you wanna run, since you had better, now that the whole train knows you're a big, smiling, softie. Also, while  the streets do have names, they might as well not since there's a 90% chance you have no idea where you're going.

It's cool. Let Bono be your guide.