Tag Archives: gnomes

Weird Ass Crap I Found on Pinterest

Pinterest. I love and hate it all at the same time. The good: recipes I’ll probably never make, but REALLY want to, clothes that I could actually wear and look amazing in, and endless pictures of Benedict Cumberbatch and David Tennant.

Mmmmm… Cumberbatch…. Tennant…. I’m sorry. Where were we?

Yes, Pinterest.

And then there’s the bad. Anything crafty. I am crap at crafts. I have tried. Dear God, I have tried. And each time I am defeated in a humiliating fashion. It’s pathetic, really.

But then there’s a whole other side to Pinterest. There is a dark little rabbit hole of weird. And I don’t mean ironically weird. I mean weird weird.

Behold! The odd, creepy side of Pinterest.


Dude. What the hell? This is not normal.

The pinner said he wanted them for his birthday. You know what I want for my birthday? A purse, a massage, Not freaky-ass, nightmare-inducing gnomes. They are not gnomes. Where are the red hats? The cherubic smiles? NOT HERE.


Work it, sell it, own it.

So, this guy has fans. Over 200 of them. Fans who repin his photos and shower compliments on him. Really. The dude in daisy dukes and roller skates has more fans than I do. Let that simmer a moment. Maybe I should wear skates and daisy dukes…. Maybe not.


Yes, oils will stop snoring. And those weird foot pads really suck out toxins.

My husband snores like a freight train. I kick, pinch, pluck, and nothing works. He keeps on sawing those logs. So, you expect me to believe that oil on his feet will stop that buzzsaw? Really? I’d sooner believe my dogs are ninjas on the weekend. Just on the weekend though. They have naps to take care of during the week.


Veggies into pasta. Yes, that will happen.

Could you imagine turning vegetables into pasta? That’s dumb and weird. Not just weird. Seriously. It would never work. It would make a gooshy, stinky mess. And there is no way a child would ever eat that. Green pasta? Have the inventors ever met a child? Obviously not. Dumbasses.


Poor dog. Poor, poor dog.

It wasn’t enough to shave the dog to help him cool down. No. They had to shave a pair of overalls into his back. I should call PETA.


Barbie, the Dia de Los Muertos edition.

Barbie has many fine qualities. She’s an astronaut, a horsewoman, she takes care of her many sisters, and cleans up her dog’s poop. I am good with that. I don’t need to know what goes on behind the plastic skin. Especially not with the girly parts. Although, I wouldn’t mind knowing how her feet are naturally angled for heels. I would love that. My hooves would sport awesome kicks all day long and never be uncomfortable because that’s just their shape.


Nope. Can’t say that happens.

Yeah, I have a hard time dragging my ass out of bed. Period. If someone offered my chocolate covered chocolate in the morning, I don’t know if I would be able get up and eat it. I’m that exhausted. Work out? I laugh in your general direction. Workout out in the middle of the night. Please. I might rupture my spleen with how hard I laugh at that thought.

So, you see, Pinterest friends, the world is a scary place. Weird, scary, and wonderful. Because, Benedict.


Filed under Martini Madness