Wednesday, June 29, 2011

This Post Confirms That I Swear. A Lot.

I'm going to Oklahoma this weekend, which means my house is a mess and I have a shit ton of things to do, and I have a karaoke video to record (theme is covers/rip-offs), and I've been working on all sorts of stuff on Childhood Trauma, and ZOMG have y'all read The Hunger Games, because my life was officially turned off for three days in order to finish that series. And also, the person they hired to play the hawt boy is, like, ten years old, and I feel like a creepy old woman for lusting after him. Thanks a fucking lot, production company that I don't feel like googling right now.

In bloggy news, I have been busy contrary to what my sad, pathetic little Sara Swears A Lot looks like. Childhood Trauma, the site in which we roast books from our childhood, has a Facebook page. The Karaoke Ring of Death, the monthly karaoke ring in which we make fools of oursevles singing, also has a Facebook page. There's a new post up at Childhood Trauma about a Sweet Valley High book that made me want to ride Todd's junk, ifyaknowwhatimsayin.

This Friday, I will be leaving lovely Lousyana and heading to Oklahoma, the place of.... flatness. Much like my chest. ZING! OH NO SHE DIDN'T. Andy will be coming along, and Andy's sister, and possibly my best friend. We're going to make sosososo many vlogs while we're gone, because I say so. If you have any ideas for what I should be vlogging about in Oklahoma, let me know!

There was a roach in my house last night. It looked a little something like this:


I'm working off of memory here, so I might be off on the number of claws.
 Andy and I were just trying to lay low, eat some deliciously delicious cheeseburgers, and watch some fucking Family Feud, and then? THIS MOTHERFUCKER.

Velociroach was running like a bandit across the wall in my living room, and I'm pretty sure I spotted him first, as I have a Velociroach Detector in my brain at all times. (It's hereditary.) The moment I saw it, I slapped Andy because I was in a panic and that's what happens when I see roaches. I said something like, "Oh my goodness, there's a roach on that wall over there, and you must kill it immediately!" except that it came out more like, "OHMYSFLJFLWNVIOEJWLHJFANEOAIJWEFDEATHDEATHDEATH."

Luckily Andy understands my Velociroach language and immediately went to kill it.

He took a flip flop and smashed the shit out of the roach. BUT THE ROACH DIDN'T FUCKING DIE.

The Lazarus of roachdome tried to run behind our entertainment center, but Andy is obviously a trained assassin and was not about to let that happen. He went to smack it again, but this time, the roach knew what was coming. He practically grabbed a hold of the shoe right before it hit him, and he threw Andy off to the side. Practically. Or something.

After Andy wiped the sweat off his forehead, he looked at me very seriously and said, "We're going to need a bigger shoe."

While Andy was doing all of his assassin tricks, I was standing in the kitchen screaming, btdubs.

I went to retrieve the biggest shoe I could find. Luckily Andy has pretty large feet.

Bowchicawowow winkywinkywink awww shit son, that's what I'm saying. (Hey Emily! Hey Andy's mom!)

Andy finally got one good throat punch in, and the roach fell behind the entertainment center, STILL ALIVE. If you're keeping track at home, this roach has now survived three fucking attacks. MonsterVelociroach Bastard.

Andy was all, "Hm. Well, it fell behind the TV, so I guess we'll just wait til it comes out."

EXSCURSE ME?

I laughed a very snobby laugh and told him that I would not be sleeping in that house, much less stepping foot in that living room, if I didn't see a fucking body. It's either me or the Velociroach, yo.

Because Andy loves blow jobs me, he made it his mission to find the roach and fight to the death. First he used a flashlight to peer under the entertainment center for what felt like A MILLIONTY YEARS, OMG IT OBVIOUSLY ISN'T WORKING, MOVE THE ENTERTAINMENT CENTER GODDAMNIT.

Next, he tried to bring each of our dogs in the room one at a time, so they could find the roach. Penny Lane walked over to the entertainment center, and he made her sniff the bottom of the flip flop that had almost made a connection with the Church Norris Roach. He was all, "That's what it smells like, Penny! Find it!"

If you're thinking, "The fuck?" don't worry, you aren't the only one.

When all three of our dogs decided to play flashlight tag, he gave up on that idea. "Fuck this roach!" he said, getting angrier and angrier. I kept suggesting he move the entertainment center, and he was all, "The entertainment center can't just be pushed to the side, Sara," except he said 'Sara' all snooty like. I was almost crying by this point, and Andy decided to pull out the big guns.

Velociroach was like a whole new breed of animal. But ant killer is a badass motherfucker.
Andy sprayed the shit out of the bottom of our entertainment center, and that stupid Velociroach came crawling out slowly, surrending to our human awesomeness. I was afraid he was just tricking us, and planned on pulling out an M16 or something right when Andy went to destroy him, but luckily he just died.

I made Andy throw the body outside, because dead roaches can mate with live roaches and have awful little velociroachy babies.

Fuck that roach.

Friday, June 17, 2011

R. L. Stine is My New Best Friend

R. L. Stine of Goosebumps fame made my entire fucking life yesterday.


If you want to read the whole story of how R. L. Stine and I became besties, you can find it at Childhood Trauma. <3

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Ain't No Party Like a Douchebag Party Because a Douchebag Party Involves Humping

I reviewed one of my favorite Goosebumps books as a kid, One Day In Horrorland, over at Childhood Trauma. Plus I finally stopped being lazy and made a facebook page for CT here. So go like it and make us feel like we aren't just writing to ourselves! (Not that it would stop us.) Be on the lookout for a guest posting week coming soon!

After we left the house party, we headed to downtown Shreveport to go bar hopping. Going drinking downtown on any given Friday or Saturday night will give you the joy of seeing plenty of super attractive people walking the streets.

Oh hai. We jerk each other off, but we're totally not gay.
Pink polos, baseball caps, and douchey smiles as far as the eye can see! Obviously this was my dream come true. Within three seconds of being in the first bar, I texted Andy, "I think they all called each other and coordinated their outfits beforehand."

They also seemed to coordinate their pick-up lines. I have been very sheltered from the creepy-guys-in-bars scene, thanks to the fact that I was engaged at the ripe old age of 20. But Jesus Effing Christ, if I had a nickel for every time a guy asked me and my friends, "So..... are you from around here?" I would probably be able to afford one Affliction shirt. (That's a lot of nickels, yo.)

As we were being accosted by yet another douchey doucheface, I saw a light of hope across the room. One of the most beautiful things I've ever seen in a bar. The moment it came into my line of vision, I knew I would be able to make it through the night.

Y'all. It was a motherfucking visor.

This may seem like something I shouldn't have been quite so excited about, but let me remind you that I was stuck downtown with an army of douches looking at me like I was Miley Cyrus on her 18th birthday. That visor was my savior for the night. And I absolutely would not rest until I tracked down the man who was wearing it and made fun of him properly.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long.

VisorDouche probably felt the power of my OH NO HE DIDN'T eyes from across the bar, because less than five minutes later, he was all up in our bidness. He walked up to our group of girls and said (of course), "So, are you guys from around here?"

Me: (Interrupting my friends) Yes, and THAT IS A SWEET ASS VISOR, SIR.
VisorDouche: Really? I was thinking it might be kind of lame to wear downtown.
Me: AHA! Uh, no. Definitely not. That is the most amazing thing I've seen all night. Please wear that for the rest of your life. Actually, you should probably be buried in it.
VD: ...........

I was met with this blank stare from men for the majority of the night, which was honestly the only thing that kept me from gauging my eyes out with a spoon or drinking an entire bottle of Tequila to hopefully black out and forget where I was. Almost every guy that hit on us ended up telling my friends, "Wow, this one is a smart ass, huh?" while they pointed their thumb in my direction.

I was making fun of a new person when one of my girlfriends walked up and said, "Hey, everyone wants to go to Phoenix Underground! Let's leave now!"

Me: Phoenix? We're going to...... Phoenix?

"Please, dear God, don't make me go there."
Phoenix Underground is the douchiest of all douchey places I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing in my life. People in the Jersey Shore are like, "Phoenix? Ew, aren't there a lot of douchey guys there?" Jon Gosselin is like, "Oh man, Phoenix is that place with all the douchey guys in polos, right?" Michael Lohan is all, "Oh God, Phoenix? Do normal people actually go there?" THAT'S HOW DOUCHEY IT IS.

I tried to get out of going, but these girls were relentless.

Me: But there's a dress code, and I'm wearing flip flops...
Girlfriend #1: We're a bunch of hot girls! They'll totally let us in.
Me: But I don't have any cash to pay the cover...
Girlfriend #2: I'll get you, girl! Don't worry about it!
Me: But I.... uh, need to.... wash my hair?

Unfortunately, it was a losing battle and within minutes, we were on our way to Phoenix Doucherground. As we got in the elevator to head down to the club, I decided being roofied really wouldn't be that bad. At least I wouldn't have to remember this awful place in the morning?

I went to the bar with one of the girls, because I wasn't quite drunk enough to be humped by a bunch of guys I didn't know on the dance floor. My friend and I were talking/yelling at each other when the Hand Clap started playing through the speakers.

Me: Ohmygod, I love this song! And I totally know the dance moves!

I started dancing a little AT (not on) the bar, while I smoked a cigarette and talked to my friend. Next thing I know, someone walks up behind me and literally starts humping me.

You know when a dog is trying to hump your leg, and it wraps its front two legs around your calf and holds on as tight as it can with super human dog strength and you're kicking and yelling and slamming said dog against a door and absolutely nothing will get it to leave you alone?

Yeah, that's pretty much how I would describe this experience. It became a familiar cycle by the end of the night, and I got so used to it that I forgot it was ever weird in the first place.

  • Stand still at the bar
  • Start shaking your hips slightly at the bar
  • Have a drunk creepy guy in a polo shirt hump you
  • Turn around, shoo him away, stop dancing
  • Repeat five minutes later
I swear to God, y'all, he had to have had super powers because every fucking time I started moving in any way that could ever be construed as dancing, this guy would show up out of fucking nowhere to hump me. Dude could be down the road in a different bar, and he would still hear me say, "Oh I love this song!" just in time to leap behind me and try to grind on my backside. I would be angry about it, but it's almost impressive.

Around the time I wanted to leave, some more douchey guys were hitting on one of my friends and asked us if we wanted to take shots of whatever the hell they had in their VIP section.

Aside: The VIP section was filled with mattresses. That's it. Just mattresses. I knew I wasn't drunk enough to be in this situation because my only thought was, "OH EW. How many germs are on these beds? I'll be over here letting this guy hump me because even that seems more sanitary than this shit, thanks."

I finally started texting Andy to please, dear God, for the love of all that is holy, in baby Jesus' name, please come save me and get me out of here and also, could you shave off my entire top layer of skin when we get home because I'm pretty sure that's the only way I'm going to get the eternal smell of douche off of me.

Right when I started rejoicing because Andy was on his way, one of the douches spilled, nay, POURED his entire goddamn drink in my lap. As the anger that I had been feeling all night started rising to the surface, threatening to burst out of me and devour all these awful, disgusting guys, I said through clenched teeth, "We. Need. To. Go."

I started getting the few remaining girls together and was waiting for a friend to come out of the bathroom when one of the douches who practically shoved shots down my friends' throats came up to me.

Douche: You know.... we did just buy you guys like five drinks, and you're just gonna leave like that?

Ex-squeeze me?
What I should have said: Sir, I am damn fucking good at sex and blow jays for that matter, and I can guarantee you that sex with me is worth a fuck of a lot more than two shots of tequila, thankyouverymuch. Now, go away, and I'll keep praying to Baby Jesus that your penis falls off.

What I said: Whatthefuck?

Luckily, at that moment, Andy let me know he was outside waiting for us, and I was able to exit that hellhole and never look back.

At least until the next Girls Night when I'll be forced to relive it all over again.

Uh, guys? I'll be washing my hair for the next four months.

Monday, June 13, 2011

DoucheBag Central

Recently, I was getting together a list of names and addresses for wedding invitations. As I was emailing all of my friends to get updated information, I realized that I hadn't seen some girlfriends from high school in quite some time. These particular girlfriends are the epitome of fun-loving, party-having, club-hoppin' girls. And in case you couldn't tell from over a year of blog posts..... I'm not exactly a fun-loving, party-having, club-hoppin' kind of girl. I'm more of a sit-on-the-couch, eating-potato-chips, with-no-pants-on kind of girl. So to say I was a little out of my comfort zone Saturday night would be putting it lightly.

We started at Texas Roadhouse, home of throwing peanut shells on the floor. Also home to a delicious frozen margarita. I sipped on my margarita and ate french fries covered in love handles (might as well have been) while I caught up with five girlfriends I hadn't seen in years. The first fifteen minutes of conversation went a little something like this:

Girlfriend #1: Sara, do you remember that time you called me your Mexican Boyfriend at that party and then we called each other that for the rest of the year? LOL
Me: Um... it sounds kind of familiar, but....
Girlfriend #2: Oh man! Hey Sara, remember when you rapped What Would You Do by City High in Mr. Hayden's English class, except you had to skip over that part about being raped and Mr. Hayden got mad at you?
Me: Oh, ha ha, uh.... sure?

What the fuck, y'all? Was I stoned my entire high school career? I have no memory of these stories, and they were about me.

*Aside: I didn't smoke or drink in high school. I was pretty much the most awesome kid ever. You're welcome, Mom.

*Aside Again: This is further evidenced by the fact that when I saw someone downtown later that night who I hadn't seen since ninth grade, his first response was, "I would never have expected to see YOU out here, that's for sure." How else can you answer to that, besides saying, "Yep, I'm just an alcohol-swilling, Bible-burning baby-aborting pillhead now.... who would have thought?" Dick.

After one margarita at the restaurant, we had all planned on heading downtown, AKA DoucheCentral. But one of the girls we were with heard about a house party close by. This house party would be filled to the brim with even  more people I haven't seen since high school. Obviously, this sounded like a shitload of fun. (Note: Not.) But since I'm usually a Champion Couch Potato, I decided to just go along for the ride.

We arrived at this bangin' house party, and it was poppin', y'all. And by poppin', I mean that we pulled in the driveway at the same moment the hosts of this house party pulled into the driveway. Also? They had one bottle of liquor and one case of beer.

Taaka Vodka and Bud Lite.

Enough said, right?

I relived my freshman year of college and took a shot of Taaka, hoping that one shot might make me forget where I was, for fear that I might start weeping at the lameness of it all.

I am entirely too damn old to be at a house party like this.

I am way too fucking old to be shooting Taaka.

I need to get the fuck out of..... WAITAFUCKINGSECOND.

"WHAT. IS. THIS?" I practically yelled at my friend, as I noticed the most amazing thing I'd ever seen on a fridge before. (Besides the flyer for the local eatery Double D Ranch that is currently residing on my fridge at home.)

HO. LY. SHIT.

Y'all. That is a Christmas card. And in case you didn't notice, the fucking dogs have individual portraits on this Christmas card, while the children do not. And look at those portraits! These dogs are obviously used to having their pictures taken. They're probably also used to eating at the table with the rest of the family, cracking open an icy cold beer on Sunday afternoons, and spending all day lounging around in their own private room with an on-staff masseuse and fireplace. The two kids are probably off somewhere, coughing up furballs and smelling like dog piss. This Christmas card alone made the entire house party worth it.

After laughing hysterically at the Christmas card, I turned around and realized just how uncomfortable this house party really was. The guests included us girls and.... the host. The awkward silence loomed over us, while my friend and I made "wtfarewedoinghere" eyes at each other.

"Uh.... I'll be outside smoking."

Smoking may be a dirty, dirty habit, but it really is the best excuse to get yourself away from uncomfortable situations.

While I was outside doing my dirty cancer thing, one of my friends came outside.

Friend #1: I didn't know you smoked!
Me: Um, wow. We really haven't seen each other in a while, huh?
Friend #1: So do you inhale when you smoke?
Me: Is that a real question? I mean, uh, yes.
Friend #1: I've only ever tried a cigarette once....... *hinty eyes*
Me: Oh really? Hm, that's interesting. *ignoring hinty eyes*
Friend #1: Yeah, I think I kind of liked it a little bit maybe. I would probably have to try again to know for sure. *YELLING EYES*
Me: Ahem. Cough. *'please stop yelling at me with your eyes' eyes*
Friend #1: Could I try?

Sigh. Guys, I've become that person.

Stay strong, Steph! These bitches will wrinkle up way faster than you, gurl.

"Everyone else is smoking, you'll look totally cool, boys will like you, INFECT YOUR LUNGS WITH CANCER, BISH."

*Aside: Nobody panic about me turning a friend into a black lung participant. This girl is not going to start smoking all the time, swearsies.

I handed her a cigarette, and she held it away from her and lit the tip of it with the lighter. (*giggle* I'll admit that I found it kind of cute that she had no clue how to light a cigarette.) After showing her what to do (devil's work), she started smoking and actually managed not to cough while doing it. If you've ever seen a new smoker smoke a cigarette, you know how awkward they look doing it. I noticed her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye to follow my movements when I inhaled, ashed, or just stood holding it. (Again, I know it's bad, but it was pretty funny. It felt very much like a high school flashback.)

Moments later, another friend walked outside.

Friend #2: You two look so classy smoking your cigarettes!

Sigh. GUYS. I DID NOT START THIS. Stopjudgingme.

Friend #2: Can I try?
Me: Oh, goddamnit.

Are there any old ladies who need help crossing the street? Turtles flipped upside down who need to be turned over? Seriously, my karma points have to be in the negatives by now.

This friend erupted into a fit of coughs after one tiny drag.

Me: "And that's why smoking is bad for you."

(See? Saving lives here, y'all.)

On our way back inside the house, the two dogs (featured above) were acting like fucking insane beasts. I told the girls that we should try to run inside quickly, so the dogs would stay outside and quit trying to goose everyone. The dogs had both been outside when we arrived to the party, so we figured the host couldn't be too angry with us for trying to avoid their cold noses.

Except that the dogs escaped. And judging from the Christmas card and the framed photographs of these golden retrievers all over the house, someone was going to be pretty upset to return home to no dogs. These people would probably be less upset if they lost their children, for God's sake.

The host quickly ran outside when he discovered the dogs were missing, and that is when we chose to leave and go to a bar. We're classy like that.

To Be Continued... because one post just isn't enough to make fun of the douches I met Saturday night.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Karaoke Ring of Death: High School Style

It's Karaoke Ring of Death time, y'all! We had a short break last month because of me being a busy fun ruiner, and I'm glad to get back to drankin' and sangin' myself into embarrassment. This month was an especially awkward one. I attempted to count the number of awkward moments, but I forgot what came after one zillion billionty. If you want to see my video, you can find it at Alexandra's blog, The Tsaritsa.

This month, I am super stokedexcited to get to have Erin from Post Modern Talk-O on my blog. Her videos always make me laugh, and she looks like a natural in front of a camera. Plus her boobs looked awesome in 20sb's Vlog Day video. I just want to follow her around and laugh at her jokes all day. Maybe we could be sister wives?

Without further ado.... Erin singing "My Own Worst Enemy."

Hey, party people in the place to be. I'm Erin from The Post Modern Talk-o and I'm extra stoked to be on Sara's page this month. I even wore my pajama jeans, commando. I super hope that if you're a regular reader of her you'll make your rounds and check out all the vloggers on this list. The internet has talent, man. Well, we've got webcams at the very least. Check out Kandace from One Red Wall for double sure over on my page with her rendition of Sorry Ms Jackson. You're gunna love it.

Ok, so my entry might have been better as a one hit wonder but I have a zillion memories of me and my friends piled into a hand me down car pushing the one good speaker a full blast listening to this song. The perfect anthem for reckless teenage abandon and bad dancing.

If you haven't barfed in your mouth yet, but really really want to head over to my Video Page for lots and lots of other vlogs. (It's a post modern thing)


You can find the rest of the karaoke singers at the links below:

Kandace with Sorry Mrs. Jackson
Tabs with Sadie Hawkins Dance
Bianca with The Hardest Part of Breaking Up (Is Getting Back Your Stuff)
Jes with Can I Get a Fuck You
Daniella with She Will Be Loved
TJ with Naked
Alexandra with Intergalatic Planetary
Dawana with Bills, Bills, Bills
K. Syrah with She Will Be Loved
David with Song 2
Nicole with Seventy Times 7

Thursday, June 9, 2011

MYAH! It's Vlog Week!

With yesterday being 20sb Vlog Day and tomorrow being Karaoke Ring of Death day, I figured I would go ahead and declare it Vlog Week at SaraSwearsALot.

After getting to Dallas for my birthday in March, my best friend, sister-in-law, and I got really into making the Snookie MYAH noise. Why? Uh, because it's fucking fun as shit to do, that's why. Try it out a few times, and try not to be in the best mood ever. We were a bit drunk when this was recorded, and we thought Emily was trying to take a picture of us, not record our MYAHs over and over and over. Sorry the picture quality kind of sucks. Blame Steve Jobs.


In case you couldn't tell, I'm the one on the left whose laugh sounds suspiciously like Miley Cyrus'.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

20sb Vlog Day is Hiz-ere!

It's 20sb Vlog Day! Which means a whole shitload of people from 20 something bloggers will be posting vlogs today, introducing themselves to the bloggysphere. For the first time ever, I decided to pretend I was a master editor and try to turn my shitfest of a video into something awesome.

That didn't work out so well.

But here's the video anyways. If you make it to the end, there's singing! Into a fake microphone! And hand motions! It's your lucky day, everyone.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

SMAC: Animated Movies

Today I get to host my best bloggity friend on my blog for Shitty Movie Awareness Club! We're pretty much the best couple ever. Even Andy calls our soulmateness a steamy love affair, and it totally is. I imagine that when we finally do meet, there will be a beautiful, running through the airport, jumping into each other's arms kind of moment. Except maybe not the jumping in each other's arms part because I'd really hate to give her a hernia. (Can girls even get hernias?) (When I was little, I thought a hernia meant that a boy's penis had fallen off. Ouch.)

If you've met her, you know who I'm talking about. If you haven't... WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? It's Lorraine, y'all! Enjoy her movie review, because when I read it, I got a serious case of the giggles. And if you'd like to see mine, it's over at Nugs' place. Along with my pants. Rawr!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey guys, it’s Lorraine from Late to the Party. After typing that sentence, I almost decided that I should probably have a more original introduction than that, but quickly remembered all of the brain cells I’ll be wasting while watching this movie. After watching Glitter my first round of SMAC, I’m thinking I can’t afford to spend brain cells on things like “thinking” and “originality.”


So. This month’s theme for the Shitty Movie Awareness Club is animated movies. I’m really excited about this for several reasons. Ahem:

1.) I get to post on Sara’s blog! SARA. SARA NIPPLES. In case you didn’t know, she and I are like, best bloggity friends. We text, tweet, chat, email and Facebook each other all the time. We also grope each other, but *shhh*. We plan how we’re going to run away together one day and live by the Unicorn Code. Plus, we work on Childhood Trauma together, and bond over Wakefield Tears, even if sometimes she defends Jessica over Liz. I still totally forgive her. See? Best. Bloggity. Friends.



b.) I’m basically a cartoon!



cat.) Nicole Sweeney is posting on my blog. If that isn't just a hot sandwich of hot hotness, I don't know what is.

SPEAKING OF CATS…

The movie I chose is “Felix the Cat: The Movie.” My sisters and I watched the crap out of this movie. We found this at the seedy video rental store my father took us to basically every weekend. It was right next to the Pussycat Theater and it took me a long time to realize what kind of movies were in there.

Anyhow, and after way, way, way too much introduction, Felix the Cat:


We open the movie with a giant, disembodied cat head floating against a black screen. It’s Felix, yo. He kind of sounds like a less nasally, higher pitched Mickey Mouse. He also would like to tell us about an amazing adventure he’s had! His floating head is moving side to side in awkward, late 80’s animation and the voice isn’t even TRYING to match whatever small movements his mouth is making. Awesome. This is gonna be fun.

So, Felix just got back from the land of Oriana. It’s okay if we haven’t heard of it because they don’t even have an airport. Felix LMAO’s at his own damn joke and I wonder if this is going to happen often. Nobody likes the guy who laughs too hard at his own joke, FELIX. GOSH.

Oriana is in another dimension and the people and creatures there are supes weird, says Felix. More weird than a disembodied cat head who laughs at his own jokes, apparently.

We go to Oriana and there is a blonde chick signing, “Oriana” on a paper. I just mention this detail because as she signs, bells tinkle in the background and the ink is silver and sparkly and OMG I WANT THAT PEN. Sorry. I’m a sucker for office supplies. Also, Oriana is the name of the kingdom AND the princess. A+ for originality.

A little balding man comes into the big, palace-y room we’re in. His name is “Grumper.” Hmmm. I wonder if he’s jovial? Care free? Witty? Oh, fuck, right. He’s Grumpy. A+ for subtlety. At this time, another rotund character busts in, Pearl.

Pearl: Oh no! Oh no! OOOOOH NO! Ah! Worry! Freak out!
Grumpyface: Oh, wow. Bitch be cray cray.
Princess: Oh, nonsense Grumper. I am kind and good to all. I have blonde hair and speak softly. Let her speak.

That may be paraphrased but just a little.

So anyways, Pearl has seen a black duck on a green planet on her extra-terrestrial tarot cards, or something, which obviously means that Oriana’s uncle, the Duke of Zill has gotten through some intergalactic impasse and has returned to their kingdom with an army of robots. Don't you just hate when family shows up unannounced? So inconvenient.

We are shown the robot army and they are flying in formation chanting, “Princess! Princess! Princess!” I kind of am on their side, as of now, just because I’m a big fan of chanting. Chanting! Chanting! Chanting! Plus, you kind of have to admire that kind of focus and drive.

In fact, even though the Princess is JUST hearing about her evil uncle being back in town, most of her people have either fled or surrendered. Worst. Princess. Ever.

Princess: I’m going to escape through a secret passage way! And then I will get help from “the outside.” Also, I have never learned from movies that you should never announce your plans to people.
Pearl: Of course! “The outside.” Just like the prophecy that says we will have a hero from another dimension.
Lorraine: Hey twat waffle! Any other pertinent information you are keeping to yourself? Bitch.
Princess: What will you do Grumper? How will you escape?
Grumpydick: I’ll just stay here. I’m old and it doesn’t matter when old people die.

I would “word” this but Grumpster immediately sits down in triumph, meaning that he’s evil and is totally planning on selling the Princess out. Not cool.

The robots shine colorful lights out of their asses while they search for the escaping Princess. She keeps saying she’s looking for something but I don’t quite catch what. The dimense portal? The immense portal? Whatever. She finds it but before she can turn on the ditense porma, the robots and the evil Uncle Duke catch her.

Now would be a good time to mention that her uncle is like… a robot ox?

As they take the princess away, she cries a single magical tear. It becomes a little magical fairy tear who yells, “help me! Help me!” and is smarter than the actual princess because the tear manages to turn the disport portion on and the TearFairy travels through time or space or something, and finds our hero, Felix the Cat.

Felix grabs his magic bag, is an idiot, stumbles around, and follows the TearFairy. I hate Felix already. Passionately. Then for no reason we’re treated to a musical number as a group of foxes kick dirt onto Felix’s magic bag. UH. OKAY… The TearFairy leads Felix back to Oriana (the kingdom, not the person) and is all, “that’s as far as I go. See you later, sucka.”

Felix ends up underwater. I could explain how, but why would I when all I really want to mention is that the fish in Oriana? HAVE TITS.


Anyfishtits, Felix meets a gun-carrying, single toothed, southern accented man named Pim. He offers to help Felix but he really just wants that darn magic bag! As Pim leads him, Felix manages to get trapped in a man-eating bubble and Pim turns him over to the robot army. Never trust a man with only one tooth.

Pim takes the bag to “Wack Lizardi.” Okay. I’m going to let you guess what sort of animal he resembles and his defining character trait. I’ll give you a few seconds. If you guessed, “intelligent bird,” you are absolutely right!

JAYKAY. He’s a wack lizard. A++ Wack is a lackey to Uncle Duke and he also… runs a circus? You know. On his down time. Pim takes the magic bag to Wack but figures out that the bag ain’t so magical without Felix.

In captivity, Felix watches as the evil circus of Uncle Duke goes on. We’re treated to an evil circus number. A lion plays electric guitar… with his face. Mice/Lizard hybrids tap dance with top hats for about eleventy minutes. The circus crowd makes a lot of generic “crowd” noises but I can’t tell if they are cheering or jeering. I didn’t pay to attend this circus, but I want my money back.

Oh, wait. Here comes Felix to perform. I haven’t mentioned so far how very terribly “punny” this movie is. It kind of explains why my younger self liked it. For instance, Felix falls into his magic bag and as he gets out he yells, “who let the cat out of the bag?” #punny.

“Who is this Duke of Zill? He’s the one who got me into this pickle. Zill. Pickle. GET IT?” #punny

Felix: Hey Lizard, now that I'm done performing, can I stay and watch the Princess dance?
Wack Lizard: As long as you never tell another joke. Ever. Again.
Lorraine: AMEN.

If a dude named “wack” is asking you to stop telling jokes? You should probably stop.

And now comes the single plot point that I actually remember about this movie. Stop judging me. Oh, what? I haven’t told you what the plot point is yet? STOP JUDGING ME IN ADVANCE.

Okay, so the Princess is in this circus too, right? And her amazing talent is… bubble dancing! Seriously. She dances seductively in a bubble for all the circus to see. She’s not naked or anything. She just… shimmies and OMGSTOPJUDGINGMEPLEASE.


I should mention that all of this circus crap is taking place in Zill, not in Oriana (the kingdom, not the person.) I didn’t mention this before because I didn’t know and it took a little caption that said, “meanwhile, in Oriana’s kingdom…” for me to realize. AT LEAST I CAN READ, OKAY?

Sorry. These SMAC entrires always make me very yell-y.

Meanwhile, back in Oriana’s kingdom, everyone is watching her dance in the ‘ole bubble.

Grumpylips: I really don’t see why she’s on every channel. Don’t we have cable up in hurr? Surely the Housewives of Something or Teen Mom 57 is on. Any of that would be better than watching her dance the same way every night.
Uncle Duke: She gets better every night. Let me jerkoff... I MEAN... watch in peace.

People keep making cat/princess hooking up jokes and uh HELLO? Gross, cartoon characters. Stop it.

Felix finds the Princess and she explains what happened: Basically, Uncle Duke was a mad scientist and in trying to build his robot army, he maimed himself and had to build himself that stunning oxrobot body. He was supes jealous of his brother, the then king and wanted all of the secrets to the kingdom, like the secret of the Dimental Poridge. But Oriana will never give them to him. NEVAR. And her daddy banned him to the land beyond the impasse. And then Uncle Duke did evil things and has now captured the princess.

Felix promises that he’ll get the Princess out of the circus and she… presses his oversized head against her boobs. Felix is understandably impressed and the soundtrack croons, “something moooore. More than friends.”

OMG SO GROSS. BESTIALITY IS NOT OKAY.

Okay, so the next day Felix and Oriana are performing again. Oriana bubble dances, Felix plays the sax and Uncle Duke says, “magnificent! Magnificent!” and so on. They all end up in bubbles somehow and escape the circus tent.

So now, Pim, Oriana, Felix and some other characters I never mentioned because who cares, amIrite? are a rag-tag team of escapees when hark! Hark! A dragon comes out of nowhere and a horribly dubbed voice over says, “Stella. Stella. I could’ve been somebody.”

I SHIT YOU NOT. The dragon that is now trying to eat our Escapees is quoting Brando. I seriously fucking paused the movie and searched to see if a pop-up was responsible for this line of dialogue, but NO. NO.

Whatever. My head hurts now. After being chased by various things, they make it back to the castle in Oriana (the kingdom, not the girl) (though if she had a castle in her that'd be cool. I mean weird. Totally weird.) and sneak in but Uncle Duke is waiting for them. He wants the secrets of the kingdom and stuff but Oriana is all, “no, bitch.” So Uncle Duke threatens the rest of the Escapees and Oriana is all, “Fiiiiiine. Bitch.”

Oriana summons a magical book of kingdom secrets and Uncle Duke opens it. Ladies and gentleman, the kingdom secrets Oriana has been protecting and that the slim plot of THIS ENTIRE FUCKING MOVIE WAS BASED AROUND.


ARE YOU MOTHER FUCKING KIDDING ME? -- and that was just Uncle Duke’s reaction.

He’s so pissed that he unveils his new super robot, but we only see that super robot for about oh, 1 second, because Felix throws the book of kingdom secrets at it and apparently love and wisdom and shit are just too powerful for a metal robot and he explodes. And naturally every single other robot explodes. And naturally this means Uncle Duke dies.

Or, really, he twinkles into the skies from whence he threatens, “I’ll be back.” Right now, I’m focusing on the fact that Felix is hugging Oriana and he’s basically vag level tall. Insert your own pussycat joke here.

They say goodbye and Felix is sent back through the Dimesh Portion.

God help me. I made it until the end. I still really have this headache, though, on one side of my head. It’s probably the side responsible for logic and hating bestiality.

Ouch.