Don't Call Me Marge: 2011: My Year in Review

This isn't going to be your average year-in-review post. That's because I've been abroad and therefore mostly out of touch with American culture, except for what's leaked through on Memebase and Facebook. Besides, there are only about a bajillion year-in-review posts out there by now, with more on the way, so I'm sure you've had enough of all that pop culture bullsh*t by now.

In any case, I am so much more interesting than all of that.

So, instead, you're going to get the highlights of my year. Brace yourselves, kids, here it is – My Year in Review:

I Found Waldo

He was with Carmen San Diego. They're living with Jim Morrison, Elvis Presley, D.B. Cooper and Jimmy Hoffa. I can't tell you where, though, obviously.

But it looked like this.

I Defeated an Ancient Vampire...Well, I Presume He was Ancient

It was a dark and stormy night. I was traveling through the mountains of Transylvania by rickety stagecoach, as you do, when the stagecoach broke down. Well, the stagecoach itself didn't break down, but the horse pulling it suddenly keeled over stone dead of, um, pneumonia. Yeah, that's right, pneumonia.

"Cough, cough." ~ BLW

The driver and I were alone. We were miles from the nearest town and we could hear wolves howling in the dark and storm-lashed forest.

“We're miles from the nearest town, and I can hear wolves howling in the dark and storm-lashed forest,” the driver said.

“I know,” I replied, not without pissyness, for the driver was creepy. He had one eye, this dude, and twice as many teeth.

“We'll have to go up to the castle,” the driver said. The evil glittering of his single eye suggested that something was afoot. I suspected vampires, naturally, but being the clever type, I kept my mouth shut.

I am capable of keeping my mouth shut, you know.

Luckily, I know a thing or two about killing vampires, and one should never travel through Transylvanian mountains without a supply of wooden stakes, garlic, holy water and crucifixes, especially not when the night is dark and stormy and your stagecoach driver only has one eye. I staked that sucker the minute I saw him.

“How am I going to get another job in this economy?” the stagecoach driver said, not without pissyness. He spat on the dusty floor and glared at me with his one eye.

“Maybe you and your eye can join the circus,” I suggested.

He was not amused.

I Killed the Butler in the Dining Room with the Lead Pipe

This one's kind of self-explanatory.

I Invented a Time Machine, and Traveled into the Past

And you should thank me, because if I hadn't done, you'd all have been eaten and/or enslaved by Nazi dinosaurs by now.

Like this, but invading Poland. ~ Matt Martyniuk

I Brought Down an International Drug Cartel

I did it with whiskey and toothpicks, just like we used to back in the Old Country.

Grandpa would be proud. ~ Beyond Silence

I Taught a Parrot Sign Language

It was an African Grey Parrot. They're widely regarded as one of the world's most intelligent birds, able to mimic the calls of many other bird species. African Greys are also able to understand colors, numbers, shapes and abstract concepts. They're supposed to have the intellectual capacity of a five-year-old child and the intellectual capacity of a three-year-old child, which means they sometimes throw things at researchers. Some of these birds have been said to develop vocabularies containing hundreds of words.

I called mine “Henry.”

Teaching Henry sign language was a bit tricky, because he didn't have hands, obviously. But I taught him to ruffle his feathers meaningfully. He thought I was an idiot, and didn't hesitate to say so.

"SQUAAAAWK! Dumbass! SQUAAAAWK!"~ Ernst Vikne

A lot of people might think there's no point in teaching a parrot sign language, since they can talk. It's certainly not a good idea to teach one how to open a window latch.