So I wrote this post a while back that was fairly straight-forward – I simply took a classic example of an article written for women that teemed with sickening fawning over the female sex and derision toward the male sex. Then, I changed the pronouns so that my lady readers would “woke” and realize that the way we talk about ourselves – especially in relation to men – is often very offensive.
Anyway – it’s one of my only posts that could be considered an “evergreen.” That is – I actually still consistently get daily hits from rando interwebbers on this blog post, even though it died a quick death in fb world.
Today I was looking over the search terms that people use to find my blog, and the overwhelming majority of them are “unknown search terms.”
I usually make up my own data and facts for this blog, but this is for real. Hot of the press! Pie chart made in excel LIKE A BOSS!
But of that small minority of search terms that were actually registered, I was alarmed to find out that almost everyone coming to my page is a creepy male supremacist!
Also real search terms, I promise. Also note these quantities represent 10,000 😉 Also note I praise-handed the terms that I actually want to lead people to my blog 😀
Y’all… I don’t know what to do. My only kinda-long-term-successful post is driving traffic to Galloblog from…. the Milo Yiannapoulos fan club?!?
If you are reading this because you want to woman-hate, move it along. Also, I’m not patheric, YOU ARE! Lolzzzz
Alarmedly yours,
Galloswag
— EDITORIAL NOTES —
I’m sorry if you were expecting an actual point or conclusion to this. This was about as “about nothing” as I’ve ever posted. But holy moly! What hath Galloswag wrought?
The holidays are supposed to be a holly-jolly time with loved ones, but they can also be a hairy-scary time with pinterest as you frantically try to whip up some rum-spiked eggnog cake with peppermint frosting.
For realz, what kind of kitchen-bully would make something like this to shame the rest of us?! (pixabay free image)
Galloswag is here to declare: Don’t let your ability to make merry be sabotaged by the culinary pressures of the holiday season! I have a few tricks up my sleeve that are guaranteed to release you completely from all of the stress, fatigue, time, money, and emotional breakdowns that inevitably occur during holiday food preparations.
What’s the secret? Well, just between you and me…
The secret is to get all your friends and family to stop asking you to bring food to any holiday gatherings.
Sounds to good to be true?? Read and learn, my friends — read and learn!!! These are tried-and-true methods that either I or my family members have empirically tested and proven to be successful.
·Make your dishes memorably terrible
oYou can’t half-ass this, folks. I’m not talking about rolling up to Christmas dinner with an underwhelming pot of green beans. The key here is to make a strong, negative impression on all the guests. One of my personal favorites is leave out whichever ingredients make the dish good. For example – mom asks me to make some homemade hot cocoa? Sure thing, but I’ll leave out the sugar. My aunt needs me to whip up a batch of mashed potatoes? Gladly, but those taters will arrive sans buerre.
oA second technique that is a nuanced yet sophisticated variation of the “leave out the gooduns” described above was perfected by my brother. He doesn’t just leave out what’s good, he leaves out what makes the dish the dish. Yep — leave pumpkin out of the pumpkin pie and chuckle to yourself as your family reels in shock.
oThird, simply omit important steps of the recipe process. All the ingredients are there, but you masterfully manage to still ruin the texture somehow. A simple example of this is to not drain pasta before mixing in the sauce. Turn that mac ‘n cheese into a watery soup with floating pieces of pasta and just a subtle hint of velveeta. They will be incensed!
oIf passive omission isn’t quite your style, you can always aggressively substitute ingredients until the entire dish is unrecognizable. Trade that butter for apple sauce, sugar for molasses, pasta for potatoes, cilantro for parsley, and pretty soon you will have a disastrous cacophony of flavors that is sure to distress the most appeasable of palates.
·Insist on making the main dish, but then show up 3 hours late.
oThis is advanced technique that can only work if you are a central figure in the family. If you are the rando fiancé of the weird cousin that lives far away, this is too bold for you. If you have a mind for long-term strategy, the key is to spend the other 364 days of the year tricking your family into believing you are dependable enough to carry the weight of the main dish. Then, take that trust and crush it under your heel as the bellies of your family members ache with hunger.
·… I wish I had 3 points, but I don’t. This is a cotton-pickin’ blog, not Southern Living! Gah!
Alright, I’ve given you the tools — it’s up to you to use them skillfully. Work on one or two of these techniques now so you’ll never have to work another holiday again!
Isn’t it beautiful?? Make sure your relatives never burden you with the weight of their unattainably culinary standards ever again! (pixabay free image)
Dearest readers, it has been a tumultuous few weeks. My courtship with John Crist began slowly, like a lovely, delicate rose unfolding in the enchanted glow of the rising sun. He made me think, he made me laugh. He sent notifications to my YouTube account specifically whenever he uploaded a new video. So intentional! ❤ Even from those hauntingly brief video clips, I was getting delicious tastes of his soul. Then I discovered that our childhoods were so similar that we’re essentially one person in two bodies. We both grew up 1) homeschooled 2) christian 3) in the same metro-area in the southern US 4) with political parents. You may not believe this, but we also have 5) a similar shade of brown hair. Coincidence…? Um, sure —- If God’s divine hand is coincidence!
The tender bud of love really evolved into a mature bloom when he traveled all the way across the country to visit my city. When I went to his comedy show, I could tell he was bewitched by my modest beauty because he gazed longingly in my direction whenever he said the punchline to a joke. I sat there with my hands clasped nervously to my bosom, feeling my heart beating wildly. I also took Desiring God’s online quiz to evaluate relationship compatibility, and we were matched as Ruth and Boaz Compatibility. Huzzah! I proposed to him publicly, and publicly accepted my proposal on his behalf. Yowza! Now the petals of love were blowing wildly in the winds of whirly-twirly romance!
But then.. those same petals – once so plump and full of life and energy – fell to the ground and were smushed by the heel of sorrowful reality.
Smushed. 😥 (pixabay free image)
What happened? Well for one, he did nothing to guard my heart. He never once clarified our relationship, or let it progress at a healthy speed (many Christian relationship experts recommend one chaperoned date per month for the first two years). Instead, he sent me video after video after video, letting me fall more and more and more in love with him. I was a helpless victim to his romantic advances.
And then, he betrayed me. I discovered this during a lunch date with my friend Amber. We were both happily chatting about our men, and then we discovered “our men” was one man — John Crist. Apparently, this Casanova had been sending her personal YouTube notifications, too – during the exact same time period.
The final smush to our love-rose came when I discovered that he stole from me. Imagine the pain that lacerated my heart when I saw that he took the humor thesis of one of Galloblog’s about nothing posts and made a meme from it… giving me no credit whatsoever. What made this betrayal especially ironic was that the entire joke centered around sharing memes being an expression of love! I can only use reverse logic then, to conclude that stealing a meme is an expression of .. not even hate.. but indifference! Indifference to our engagement! Our love! Our future little Gallocrists!
It hurts me to even look at it. Heartless bastard! *throws a random dinner plate*
Needless to say, the engagement is off. I plan to roam around the streets of Atlanta aimlessly for the remainder of my brief time here on earth. I will carry with me a smushed rose always, as a symbol of the Smushed Love Rose of John Crist. Once one has loved so deeply.. so wholly, once cannot simply pick up the cracked pottery of one’s life and create a functional life vase.
Forever yours in sorrow,
Gallosad 😥
— EDITORIAL NOTES —
03/12/2018 9:16 AM EST: It has come to my attention that “is John Crist engaged” is my #1 search term, so I’m guessing if you’re reading this, you are a hopeful fan girl in a deep interwebz investigation to determine if you have a shot with Christianity’s golden boy of comedy. So please note that I wrote this post as an inside joke between me and my friends, and it was never meant to inform the general public about his relationship status. Is John Crist engaged?!For sure no 😉
… btdubs, while you’re here you should read some of my other stuff — like, comment, follow, share, etc… it’s the Christian thing to do 😉 😉 😉
But in a recent speech, Rep. Peake revealed a bigger, more radical vision he has for the role of marijuana in the lives of Georgia citizens.
Remember, everyone – anything and everything that grows from the ground is healthy to put into your body!! #science (pixabay free image)
“Just imagine,” he cried, waving his arms excitedly, “if every citizen in Georgia had the freedom to stuff their turkeys with pot!”
Imagine if instead of parsley, that was a little marijuana sprig!!!! (pixabay free image)
In a follow-up interview, Rep. Peake revealed it was his love for children that drove his vision. He hopes that all children in Georgia will have the chance to smoke the wacky tobaccy before they graduate high school.
“It’s about them,” he insisted, tears welling in his eyes. “Everything I do is for the children.”
Rep. Peake disclosed that stage 1 of his plan will be to infiltrate elementary schools with information on what a natural and healthy alternative that marijuana is to Ritalin, a common drug used to treat ADHD. “Can’t focus in school? Throw out that synthetic poison and pick up some giggle sticks instead! Your grades won’t improve, but you won’t care!”
It will be interesting to see how this new plan will be received by his conservative base, but Rep. Peake is hoping that he can still any objections by slipping them some of the good stuff. “If you can’t beat ’em, joint ’em!” he giggled. I giggled too.. not sure why, and I don’t think I care anymore. Also, does anyone have any Oreos?
This isn’t me (or is it…????) but…. close enough (pixabay free image)
Believe it or not, Fall 2017 marked the passing of wee lil’ Galloblog from infancy into toddlerhood. In a belated celebration of 1 delightful year* of Galloblog’s astounding profundity and comedic brilliance, I wanted to check in with the mastermind of it all- Dr. Galloswag herself. After much coaxing and bribery, I convinced the shy, modest she-genius to open up about her hopes and dreams, blogging philosophy, recent felony conviction**, and more!
Q. You often begin your blogs with stories that lead into your main point. Are these all real stories?
A. Ha, well- usually. Sometimes my stories are mash-ups of my own experiences and the experiences of my friends. Or sometimes if something happened to me, I’ll write about it as if it’s a general phenomenon, or it happened to one of my friends — you know, just to give me a false sense of privacy. 😀 😀 😀
Q. Why do you write about being single so much? Are you desperate?
A. Wellll the answer to this question is two-fold. One, I write about singleness, dating, and relationships in probably less than half of my posts – but no one reads those. So the posts that actually register on your news feed are more likely to be the romantically-themed posts, because you nosy bastards are more likely to react, comment, share etc. those. I’m not obsessed, YOU ALL ARE OBSESSED. Two, I do like to write about being single – especially as a Christian, conservative (in a Rand Paul way), smarty-pants, late-twenties female in the south. I think it’s one of the few topic areas that I may actually have something unique and original to contribute. I care about many, many other things – politics, fitness, travel, black bean brownie recipes – but all of those topics have been covered ad nauseam in bloggo world. I also like to think young females ~10-15 years younger than me may read my stuff and be inspired to avoid the absurd, idiotic situations I’ve gotten myself into. I suppose I see myself as a potential interweb big sister. Looks out into the distance heroically
Q. If you could have dinner with three people, who would it be?
A. Easy! Brandon Sanderson (the best sci-fi/fantasy author in the worrrrllllldddd!!), Jimmy Fallon, and Tim Keller (duh).
Q. Why do you blog about your faith so much? Do you fancy yourself a priestess or something?
A. Ahh, no. BUT, one of the many reasons I like to write about my faith is because although there are so so so many blogs about Christianity – especially written by women for women – they all take themselves so golly-derned seriously. I think it may be good for the world to know that there are Christian women out there who love Jesus and have struggles and sometimes feel inadequate and blah blah blah, but can also snort-laugh at themselves and aren’t constantly indulging in spiritual navel-gazing.
Q. Which posts are you most and least proud of?
A. All my blogs are my little thought-babies, so it’s hard to pick. Hmm although it was not the most popular by any means, one of my favorite posts is Chronic smoker grateful for support of Alternative Health Community. No one really got it besides my mom, but I think it’s one of those posts that “those with ears to hear” will hear. As for my least favorite, the one and only post I have removed was about “The Honest PhDs Resume.” It was too pouty and negs, and I didn’t want potential employers finding it.
Q. How long will Galloblog blaze on?
A. For as long as I get kicks and giggles from it. My only rule for this blog is that the content has to flow from my brainz to my fingerz to the interwebz to your brainz like an easy, smooth, riviere des mots. As soon as I start stressing about it or feel stilted when I try to write stuff, this sucker is going down to Chinatown.
Q. What’s your biggest hope for Galloblog?
A. That John Crist will read it and fall in love with my mind, and then stalk me on social media and fall in love with my strong selfie-game, and then fly me out to LA to be his life comedy partner. ❤
With that, Galloswag jumped out of her chair, sprinted across the room and out the window to fight fascism, unrealistic beauty standards for women, and gluten.
— EDITORIAL NOTES —
*.. and a few months.. I wrote this post out with pen and paper a loooong time ago at a coffee shop and forgot all about it.. whoops
This is a self-help post for Christians who may still not have a great grasp on how many church cultures operate (bless your hearts!).
Do you think that church small groups are for building community, keeping each other accountable, learning about the word of God, and spurring each other on to good works?
Think again!
Church small groups are for meeting your future spouse.
Eyes on the prize, y’all — eyes on the prize!!!! (pixabay free image)
Nothing more, nothing less. So let’s get the obvious out of the way so we can talk strategy. You need to appear deep (really, almost tortured is best if you’re a guy) and Godly (don’t forget to quote those Pauline scriptures!) at all times. But there’s a third, crucial element that will really kick your marriageability into high-gear: Tasteful vulnerability.
How do you get there? Well, the easiest way is through confessing your sins. What’s more vulnerable than admitting to a group of mixed-sex peers that you ride the struggle bus sometimes? **BUT** it’s important that you are vulnerable in a kinda sexy, mysterious way, not icky, pathetic way.
Share the right sort of sins for the right sort of vulnerability!
MEN: Never confess porn addiction or laziness. Sexual sins are too PG-13 for the ladies in this crowd, and revealing your lack of ambition will only reinforce their fears that they really will be stuck teaching the 3rd grade for the rest of their lives. No no no.
The tasteful vulnerable zone, for men: Confess your sin of pride. It will make you seem humble, yet also offer a tantalizing hint that you have many, many things to be prideful about.
WOMEN: Never confess doubt or gluttony. These dudes are looking for moms to rear their perfect children, and they aren’t going to risk you turning pago after a bun has started cooking in the oven. The glutton thing will just give men visions of your inevitable middle-aged-onset obesity… Not exactly a picture that will make them rush to Jared.
The tasteful vulnerable zone, for women: Confess your sin of perfectionism. It will make you seem humble, yet also establish that you are, after all, kinda perfect.
Follow these guidelines and I guarantee that you will be in a state of matrimonial bliss within one year! Remember – save the weird stuff for marriage counseling, and let your selective vulnerability score you a mate NOW!
I’m a southerner. I hug. I hug my family members, my friends, distant acquaintances, and dogs.
See, even cats give full frontal hugs. It’s in nature, therefore it’s natural, therefore it’s correct. #science #logic #irrefutable
It wasn’t until I was in my teens that I realized some people consider a full frontal hug not as a friendly greeting or farewell but as …. [cringe] a sensual* pressing/rubbing together of bodies.
And in a sad effort to avoid the possibility of sensuality, the ever-polular but lamé side hug was awkwardly birthed. Ayiyiyiyi. From my #gallopov, a side hug is a gesture that should be saved for probable rapists and TK-haters, not your platonic friends of the opposite sex. The best outcome you can hope for with this pathetic hug sub is a mutual lat rub.**
“Hmm isn’t it nice to rub lats, babe?”
But let’s turn back on the Main St of this post — good ol’ fashioned frontal hugs.
I don’t want to be naïve. I’m sure there are menz (and womenz?!) who legit get, ehh, “excited” by hugs. BUT, even if some do, does that mean all peeps should let those over-sexualized-get-their-thrills-however-they-can-folkz ruin this warm, platonic gesture for everyone?!
Cuz y’all… Pervos roam the Earth without restraint, mmkay? If we let them take our hugs away, soon handshakes will be fetishized. Then we’ll have to shift to tapping elbows as a greeting. (But of course that will need to be monitored closely, as the funny bone area can give some people intriguing sensations.) Where does it end??
At some point, we need to draw a line in the sand and stop letting the most pansexual of us drive our greeting norms. Let’s plant our feet, face each other squarely, and hug like decent humanz!
END THE WAR ON HUGS!!!
OOO,
Galloswag
— EDITORIAL NOTES —
*I can’t say that word normally. Even in my head, I always pronounce it “senthual” with a nervous lisp.
There aren’t many people in this modern age I can point to and say, “That kid has gumption.”
There aren’t many people who think outside the box.
When everyone else is saying “Just take the easy way out,” there’s one man who pipes up and says, “Hey! There’s another way. Just follow my lead!”
When I enter in an address, google maps gives me the low down of how long it will take and all the steps involved for taking a car or public transportation. This is the easy way. The basic way to travel.
And then there’s this guy.
No matter the distance, that guys grabs his hiking stick, throws on a backpack, and is ready to go. It doesn’t matter if the hike will take 2 hours or 7 days, he is always there to present the bold and sassy option to go á la pied.
I used to snort derisively at his unrealistic suggestions, but now his plucky little spirit makes me blink back tears.
Thank you, sir – for showing the way. For suggesting the impossible. For always being ready for a challenge. For your saucy indifference to hardship.
In generations past, people were told to stop taking themselves so seriously. I think we millennials have taken the idea so seriously to not take ourselves seriously that we have driven ourselves into the other ditch – we see ourselves as jokes, and want to make sure everyone else does, too.
Okay okay, I lolzed at this. But also—- go apply for a job you lazy millenial!!
I think a lot of it may do with the kind of overwhelming crappiness of our times and growing connectivity with the rest of the world – we see ourselves as tiny little specs of dust in this huge dust storm of humanity that’s being driven by uncontrollable winds of huge corporations, insane political figures, and fidget spinners. So, we retreat, make memes, and giggle our way through every situation.
I’m kinda writing this about my not-so-distant-past self. I got pretty caught up in the “FML” culture of PhD students – a kind of ironic learned helplessness. There’s something pride-zapping about making poverty-line wages and having your research projects fall way short of your expectations that can drive even the most Pollyanna of us all into self-deprecating pessimism.
And look, I’m all for a good lolz. But they can be taken too far. Sometimes you need to take yourself seriously enough to take a shower, put on some nice clothes, and actually try, ya know?
I say all this coming out of a successful post-doc interview. I was gratified by how much they.. respected.. yes, respected!! me and my dissertation work! The whole experience made me realize that I use sarcastic, self-deprecating humor as a shield against expectations. I didn’t want to disappoint people, so I made sure they kept their expectations low so I wouldn’t have to deal with their disappointment or be assigned more responsibility. #realtalk
But yeah.. this past week has opened my eyes to my own value in my field. It’s scurry, but I actually have the potential to bring some good to the world through my research. Eeks!
So, I know most of you aren’t in PhD world, but I think this could apply in a lot of situations. Being a mom, for instance, is huge. I’m sure getting spit-up on and getting into intense arguments with 4 yr olds isn’t always validating, but you have this unbelievable influence in how a real life human being sees the world! That’s really not small. For realz.
(This is getting a little ramble-y, but I blame it on the ferocious winds of Irma whirling my brain to and fro’. #science)
My point is – don’t discount yourself, kid! Lolz it up, but don’t lolz yourself into a false sense of insignificance.
..Unless you just want to be insignificant, and then I guarantee you that you will succeed in that 😏
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