Carologic and Tanks

So. After introducing bestfriendK, to a ridiculous blog (hyperboleandahalf), she decided that I needed to start one myself stating, "share your crazy head with the world". Now I've known for quite some time that my head does contain some pretty ridiculous thoughts, images and logic. In fact, my brand of logic was once dubbed "Carologic" as it makes little sense to anyone but me.

However, becoming a copycat never got anyone anywhere, and in the case of murder, only lands you in jail. I would prefer to remain out of blog jail (I've heard that some of the inmates can be rather frisky with their words). And so, you will not find random paintbrush drawings here (although I must say that I do very much enjoy Allie's artistic talents).



So what the fuck will I blog about? Well I'm not quite certain at this point. Really at this point I'm just bored and avoiding my job a bit. It's not that I don't enjoy my job; I do. But I'm not paid that much and frankly the intellectual stimulation is minimal. Meh.

So let's get a few things out of the way.

First, you need to know that I have a somewhat unhealthy obsession for tanks. I don't know anything about them, except that they are quite large, cumbersome and can blow the shit out of pretty much everything (ok maybe not everything, but they could fuck you up). I've been asking for a tank for years, but husbandM has failed to come through on his promise.

You see, I made a deal with husbandM - I would not join the army or similar entity for the sole purpose of blowing shit up with my own tank that I would name Betsy, while cackling like a hyena, IF husbandM gave me my own personal fun box + enormous gun (not to be confused with vaginal explosives).

Now this is not to say that husbandM hasn't TRIED to satisfy my intense desire to own a tank. I've receive tiny toy tanks, promises to go to a fair that apparently allows you to hang out in a tank (although lack of time and a fear of clowns prevented me from attending) and even a tank necklace that motherinlawL gave me one Christmas.

Within the last week or so, I discovered that an 80's cartoon about alien spacebots includes not only magical semi trucks and stealth jets, but also a fantastic convertible tank. OH MY GOD. The wonders of a mutant spacebot tank! Sorry, but Megan Fox is not nearly as hot as vaginal explosives on steroids.

My new dream is to one day own a tank and turn it into a mutant spacebot. I figure I can get away with this by adjusting it to only shoot marshmallows. The goal, of course, is to keep it out of warmongering hands and safely in my backyard. Hopefully my homeowner's association doesn't have too much of a problem with that, even though they are Buddhist/Native American warriors. I mean, the point is to NOT use it in war, so they should be somewhat supportive, right?



I can get a bit carried away with tanks, so let's move onto the second piece of information you'll need to know.

Fuck. All I can think about is tanks right now.

I wonder how tanks can be brought back to the subject of those very popular young adult novels about vampires... You see, I have this friend, A, who can manage to bring almost any subject back to said novels. I would probably say that her obsession with sparkly vampires is similar to mine with tanks. I've joined her in these vampire games before, and they can be quite humorous. But how to connect tanks to vampires......

Nevermind, I've got it.... missile/tank proof car. Done and done.

Moving on.

Welcome. Grab a hammock, a beer and try not to get offended. It's not really about you anyways.