Tuesday, November 24, 2009


It's been wayyyyyyyy too long since I've posted on here.
So much has happened. Yet nothing has happened

But this post and what I am going to get back to doing is posting about my life but what started my ventures into the blogosphere. Triathlons.

I just signed up for a HALF IRONMAN Triathlon.
Holy Crap I think I just pooped my pants at that thought.

I am seriously going to do a
1.2 mile swim
56 mile bike
13.1 mile run

I don't even like running. Oh God what did I just do?
Oh yeah, it's for a good cause. Team In Training is going to work hard to get me to the point where I am able to actually complete this event. And in the process we are going to raise money for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

If you want to know more here is my donation page.
I could seriously use all the help I can get.
No seriously, if you want to send band aids or some gatorade, or just donate. I can seriously use it all.

Motivation too.. words of encouragement, those are always welcomed as I am a lazy bastard who needs a push every SINGLE morning to get out of bed!

Get Adobe Flash player

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Growing Pains

Ever have a moment when you know you are going for something and it's been a long time coming?
How about a moment when you know you are leaving some sort of youth behind and there are some adult decisions ahead.
Gross. Right?

Well I am pretty sure I am growing up right this very moment.
Here's how I know. I am about to go for my dreams.No joke.

I have a severe case of the 'fraid of failures. I am a perfectionist and some times it is debilitating. I will not attempt something if I know I cannot do it perfectly on the first try basically. It is so upsetting to know that this is my fatal flaw and I cannot get over it sometimes. It's a voice in my head that keeps my feet planted when I want to run in one direction. Be it good bad or ugly.

Granted I have accomplished some things despite this. But it takes a major rise up inside my soul to get it out of me and ignore all those neurotic thoughts that I should just not do it.

Take the Triathlon for example.
That came out of no where, and I trained by myself and I ran across that finish line. I then walked away and I will probably never do another one because of my neuroses. It took over a year for me to get back into the training thing and do this half marathon I am apparently doing. But I am having a hard time training by myself and just today I thought about giving up.

Goodness I think I need to seek professional help.Ha!

But after the whole giving up thing I thought about what this lunch today was going to provide me.

It is a girlfriend and myself meeting up and swapping our abilities...
she needs my help in the planning of her impending nuptials. My perfectionism also makes me a great candidate to be event planner extraordinaire.
I need her ability to transform my resume into multiple job offers ! She's all 23 and growned up and businessy smart and stuff.

So I loves it.
It's something that for me, is big. I am moving in a positive direction, taking a step if you will.

And usually I like to sit in my little spot and watch everyone else take their steps around me.

Forwards and back they go.

And I am pretty good at helping people pick themselves up when they are falling backwards. I am also a great support when people need a boost forward.
But again, I myself never usually take steps myself.

So here I go.
...stay tuned.

..p.s. writing this post is making me late!
I am only taking one step here people. The not procrastinating part of me has yet to grow up!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

A Post In Pictures..

Here is my cute cocktail table
that fits perfectly on our
tiny little balcony.
Posted by Picasa

Posted by Picasa

So I ate my lunch inside...
Posted by Picasa

and oogled, my new shoes..Mmmm shoes.  
Posted by Picasa

Posted by Picasa

Posted by Picasa

and here is proof that no good deed goes unpunished.
Posted by Picasa

So She has been training this whole time! Maybe because she sucks.
AND she has a story to cover it up. So "white Chantal" I am never going to you again.I will continue to donate my blood, just not with you at the helm. If I go back in 56 days (which is the alloted time your body needs to heal between blood suckings I mean..) and you are there.. I will fake a sudden illness if you call me up to your chair. You best believe I will!
Posted by Picasa
Because look at me!

But for now I will go back to dancing around my house and listening to 
Posted by Picasa

Oh crap, it got quiet. It's so smart it's asking me if I am still listening.
When I said yet it immediately played Amy Winehouse. Today is a good day.

If only I didn't have to work..OH CRAP!

..stay tuned.

Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle.... (wait for it)

Holy shit she cannot really be that dumb.

That is actually what I nicknamed three people that I work with. Tweedle dee is the dumb cute one. He just isn't who he thinks he is. Or very good at anything. And it's comical.

Tweedle Dumb is the little beyotch who works occasionally 'cuz daddy has enough money to buy everyone inside the walls of JobOne. She shows up and has a smile on her face until someone questions to her as to why she hasn't quite done everything she should be doing. Then the attitude of twelve teenage girls boils up inside her and comes spewing out. It's disgusting. She has never heard of help, nor does she want it.And so, I will let her fall flat on her face without even the slightest urge to lend a hand.

THEN there is tweedle, holy crap she can't really be that dumb.
But she is. It is absolutely startling to come face to face with someone to whom "ignorance is bliss" so aptly applies. Rather, it is the very essence in which she lives her life. But she is too oblivious to know that is how she is living her life.
SUPER cute girl too. What a waste. She is very pretty and would be stepping over all of the guys to get to the top had she any (and I mean ANY) idea how to do a job.
Just, A job. But the simple task of waiting tables is lost on her. After a night with a two table section in which she forgot to greet one of her TWO tables for at least 15 minutes I asked her how her night went. She proclaimed "not bad! I had this one lady who came up and hugged me!"
Yeah, that is exactly what I wanted to know about your night. Not possibly how many guests will never come back through those doors based solely on your performance tonight.

Oh work, how you entertain me. Speaking of work. It is time. For JobTwo or a job switcheroo. I am looking to get out of the area that I am currently living in and I know that wherever I land anywhere I can wait tables. I've now seen it, I'm a master server. Great. That does not intrigue me in any sort of way. I know that I can fall back on these skills but by no means do I intend to keep fine tuning my serving skills.
I must set forth on the journey to become master party planner.
So here, today along with running 5 miles. (shit, I forgot about that until just now!) I will be retouching my resume and getting on the ball.
Going to find me a job in the event planning biz. Yup Yup. (said like Ducky or Petri from Land Before Time)

Wohoo for being productive, or at least writing it down and such.
...stay tuned.

Oh also, a random rant...Feel free to not read this if you don't want to hear me bitch about something so trivial as a word. Oh wait. I love words. And so should you!
So read this and make sure you don't do these bad things! Please. (I always say I hate people, but I really just hate stupid people!)

Did you know that irregardless is actually a word now? (thank God spell check does NOT recognize it though) Or apparently has been for some time. I am furious with this. Our society is to effing lazy to tell people that it is STILL not a word and instead of correcting people we've taken the "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" mentality. Seriously Webster or Merriam? You couldn't stand hearing people say a word that isn't a word so you just go ahead and make up a word that means the exact same thing as the word they don't know how to use. Well here's one for ya. Should we start making the phrase "I couldn't care less" into "I could care less" because people are just as ignorant when it comes to paying attention to what they are saying with that phrase too...

Monday, July 13, 2009

Monkey Fightin' Snakes

It's monday and I am just now slowing down. Ugh. Working weekends pretty much blows but a girls' gotta do something to pay the bills right?

I met some guy last night who decided that in five minutes I was the asset his high powered law firm was looking for in their events planning department.

Um? Seriously?

Is this guy completely full of shit or what? Did I tell him that I really think my future is in event planning? Weird. I mean, he deemed me smart,personable and a hard worker and a few other flattering things that I can't even remember because I really could not decide if he could possibly see these things from one conversation at my bar.
Time Out: I just looked up his law firm... which does exist thankfully. However I am pretty good with names and I cannot find his anywhere on their "professionals" tab. So he totally works for this company as the mail guy. Sweet.

Oh also, sheesh I almost forgot. (p.s. my new word is sheesh, I like it, so deals with it. Oh yea putting on an "s" on random words is fun too. And Mary-Kate and Ashley are my idols so what?! (only kidding I like Amy Winehouse much more))

My sister and my bestie and I are going to do a half marathon. Hahahahaha I mean. I might survive and walk it but they will both probably train correctly and end up doing it. I on the other hand go on long runs, that consist of me getting lost, walking to ensure that my heart does not jump out of my chest and running so slow that when I come back an hour later I've actually not gained any ground I just went way slower. Awesome I love running.

I mean the Triathlon was bad enough, but it had enough tempo changes and straight up switching of events that my ADD brain couldn't come up with a reason not to finish the current event because there was actually an end in sight.

But running? Just plain ol' Forrest Gumping it? I mean I'd run a lot longer and faster if you gave me something to run from...
Come to think of it that may be a genius plan..

I'm gonna run from:

My future and having to think about it in any way shape or form.

Growing up. (Michael Jackson was on to something, Neverland here I come!)

A serious relationship with, ugh, a boy.

Third dates with boys. ("ass face" nickname boy, I'm already over it. Apparently I have no heart.)

Cleaning my life. (yes I have to put it that unspecific because if I thought about all the things I needed to clean up, literally clean, I would cry. And then I would have to run from my feelings too and that just seems something crazy people do.)

The fact that I have no credit and I am still driving my shit car that makes me want to cry (crap! see next item to run from...)


Okay I am pretty sure that is a good enough list of things to run from. I mean I could run from "the law" that would be a lot cooler, but, I won't.
For now.

...stay tuned.

p.s. Listening to Billy Currington's "stay" is breaking my heart, he is so sexy and I want someone to sing that song to me! Ugh. I'm gonna run from my sad sack love life too.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Like with everything else I do, a day late and a dollar short.

Clearly boys are on my mind. My posts have mostly been about men.

But let's be honest what single twenty four year old isn't constantly thinking about them? Whether it's about the co worker who is too cute to be as effing obnoxious as he is. ( I seriously want to take a spoon to his eyeballs, and that's on a good day)

Or about the guy who I told not to call me pet names, so he now texts me with endearing titles like " hey ass face" and it makes me giggle. He is also convinced he can win over my father and any man who is up for that task is okay by me. (and I have painted my father in the most accurate light that I can, we will just see if he can handle me long enough to get to the meeting my pops stage.)

Or how about the guy who I cannot figure out what I feel about him because he is hilarious but he likes to just flake out on his responsibilities and go drinking instead.

What about the guy that makes my heart melt and I feel more comfortable with him than any other guy I know. Oh wait I forgot I am banning myself from thinking about him. It's like he has a radar when he knows I'm thinking about him and immediately pounces on my weak brain and sends me saucy messages that are the perfect start to my night. But the perfect ending to those nights would be spent with him, and that never happens. Especially while he's got a GF which is usually the case over the last 6 years.

Ughh, this post was not supposed to be all about boys.

I want to say Happy Birthday to America! I know I am days late on this one but I was too busy wrapping myself up in an American flag cheering at exploding lights in the sky and throwing back Natty Boh's like a good little American girl to worry about the blogging part of America that needed a birthday wish.

I also wanted to put into words my sincere sadness about the passing of our one and only King of Pop.
I think I am a little more sad that most people my age but I have yet to get in touch with just how depressing this really is.

Don't judge me!

MJ meant a lot to me, and this world and I don't want to hear about people bitching about his Rolls Royce and Range Rover motorcade. Hello, have you heard of this guy? Been entertaining us for effing decades people. DECADES! Not one person can tell me they didn't enjoy at least one of his songs. Before his passing, earlier this summer I was at the beach house and heard the neighbor kids playing the Free Willy soundtrack at about 2 am and I ran over there and made them put it on repeat for about 20 minutes.

It was a glorious 20 minutes.

I wouldn't even turn on his memorial service yesterday because I was convinced I might shed a tear. After I saw a clip of his gorgeous little girl Paris get up there and speak I am convinced I would have been a bumbling idiot. So for now I've got my Pandora radio station devoted to just MJ songs. Loves it.

Also Steve McNair, like a classic NFL asshole was cheating on his wife. But any former Raven that leaves this earth is a sad day for me.

So guess what my genius idea for Halloween is..

I was totally gonna be the Lady Gaga, but now I am going to get a crew and be This Year's Dead Celebrities.

I could take it two places, dress up like them, as corpses. Which would fit in my usual desire for grim and gore and guts on my favorite holiday.


I thought about dressing up like these celebrities in their hey day. Paying homage to them. Like Farrah in that memorable red bathing suit.

Either way will be cool.

OH but wouldn't it be funny to dress like a pack of dead celebrities lead by MJ and we can all do the Thriller dance! Oh I wish I had cool enough friends who would pull that off with me!

...stay tuned
(I'm sure there will be more boys to add to the mix soon, like the chef who is too scared of women right now but I will make him get over it and cook me a fabulous date!)

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Little Spoon

I am five feet tall. The decibel levels my voice can reach are deceiving because I am indeed a little girl.

So tell me how it is possible that I find all the men in the world that want to be the little spoon?

What the shit is this? I dated the firefighter and besides the fact that for the longest time he didn't know what "spooning" was, once he learned he was adamant that I should be the one wrapping my arms around him and snuggling his back into my chest.

Oh come on!

I know I am an overbearing loud obnoxious brute woman who will try to kick your ass. But what I really want is someone who knows that its all just a game and to show me how quickly they can make me feel like a tiny little girl again. By roughing me around and proving just how little my punches actually hurt. That's fine.

Or how about pulling me in close and making me feel so small tucked into your big man body. Sheesh. Is that so much to ask?

So this weekend when my guy BFF and I decided to lay next to each other, I pulled his arms around me and the immediate question was "what makes you think you get to be the little spoon?" Uhhhhhhhh (insert shrill shriek here) And as we rolled away from each other to lay on separate sides of the bed, I laughed.

How is it possible that I always find the ones who actually want to be the little spoon? On occasion is fine. I am all about balance. Giving and taking. So I would never dream of always being the little spoon but for pete's sake can we just go by the general rule of:

Big man= Big Spoon
Little woman= little spoon.
I mean for real.

...stay tuned.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Classic GF

If I had a boyfriend right now I would be creeping him out royally.

Haha that statement just makes me effing laugh. I am such a flipping disaster. I am currently "talking" to a couple of guys. When it rains ir pours. And when I am in a drought holy shit it's like they all get a memo to stay the eff away from me.

The memo may or may not go a little something like this:

Date: From now until the foreseeable future.
Attn: All men over the age of 28 and under the age of 35(okay 40);

It has come to our attention that you may be interested in a particular young lady who is tons of fun.She is short and hates being called "cute". She is also extremely loud.She even laughs loud, it's called a cackle. She also laughs all the time and smiles even more often. She has one volume, she's endearingly named the volume level as "fuckingloudasshit" and no off button. She has a gigantic heart and just wants to love the whole world but for some reason she makes sure that you don't know this right away. She has no problem using the c word (insert apology to her mother!) and she will make sure you know that you are not as awesome as you might think. She probably wants to fight you but be careful she can hold her own. She has no problem being smacked around a bit as long as she gets to hit you too. She claims her four brothers are the reason she is so violent. She also makes sure you know that along with her brothers she has a father that wants to kill pretty much anyone that goes near her. She will readily admit to bringing new guys around her family just to see them get eaten alive. She can clean up well and loves to wear dresses just to see mouths fall on the floor. She can sing and dance but you will probably never see much more than a few dance moves.
The point of this memo is to forewarn you all. Please do not approach this dangerous animal while we are conducting further studies on how to calm her the eff down. Also please do not feed her. She has Celiac disease and the glutenous foods may set her off! We would appreciate it if you would use extreme caution if you are going to disregard this memo and get in contact with the creature.

Thank you for your time. And do not call us if you have bruises whether they be physical or to your ego. We claim no responsibility for lost of stolen items,like your sanity.


And then one daring young (read: old) man tries his hand at handling the shit storm that is dating me, or merely putting up with me for more than one interaction. And once one guy starts this trend it's as if that memo is redacted and they all come running.

So for now I've got a couple of messages from guys I gave my number to and didn't answer when they called.

(I'm an ass, I know, but I NEVER answer the phone if I don't know who it is, can you tell I have bad credit issues hahaha)

The funny part about not having a boyfriend right now is that I am absolutely sure I would be freaking this guy out. My best friend has a newborn baby and I am obsessed with her. I love this child and it is not mine. All I want to do is be near this little baby girl and hold her. I am fairly confident that with boyfriend in tow I would be talking about this baby just enough to freak him out. Now the other bestie and I are a ways away from the thought of having kids right now.

However if I think about my own mother if I was on her path I would be married, with a 2 year old and a newborn as well. Ah!
Of course she was just years away from a divorce as well but that is besides the point. The point is, I want a kid. I mean. I don't want kids.

Okay, clearly I am confused because I know I was born to be a mother. I will be the most fantastic mother on this planet. I want 6-18 kids. Hahah, no for real I want as many as I can afford. And hopefully a husband who can handle that. Haha but it's all the crazy girls who get boyfriends so maybe I will let all these guys who are chasing me right now into my little idiosyncrasies and maybe one of them will fall in love with me.

..stay tuned.

p.s. I apologize for all the haha's in this post but I honestly wrote this while laughing. It is so freaking true it's scary.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Silly Yak

I'm no fan of WebMD and my brother likes to tell me I am crazy. But I think I'm onto something here!

I have self diagnosed myself with Celiac Disease. So yes, it might be possible that I do not in fact have this ailment and that I am making it all up. But the whole Gluten free diet has been a freaking God send to my stomach and its previous issues. Without getting all sciency and stuff Celiac disease is an intolerance to gluten. It basically produces auto antibodies that destroy parts of my stomach called villi. Once destroyed they can no longer absorb the nutrients that everyone else can. And thus, pain is involved in the process.

I dealt with stomach pain for years and years. I thought I was lactose intolerant, which would be highly unlikely for someone who literally drinks milk every single day since I was born. I freaking love milk. And Cal Ripken is a liar. I'm from Baltimore so he is usually my go to man. Except growing up he was all about those milk ads. So i drank and I drank. I'm flipping 5 feet tall CAL! What the hell. I didn't grow big and strong because of all that lovely Calcium. Jerk. (okay so I've never broken a bone, and genetics might have something to do with my height, so maybe you do have something. Whatever you're still my hero, Billy Ripken!)

Moving on, I have been trying to keep a food diary (not consistently because well, I can't do anything consistently, except be loud of course.) for about 2 years. I never really noticed a trend in what triggered the pain and discomfort after eating. I knew yogurt was one of them, and my BFF explained to me that that was weird. Because people with digestion issues often are helped by the live cultures in yogurt. So I pretty much thought I was crazy at this point. I just knew that I was going to be in pain and sometimes not have any desire to eat another meal for hours upon hours after something set me off.

Very quietly I would deal with the pain, except when someone would listen to my complaints. I mean I am a woman, we will talk if someone will listen. My firefighter ex used to try to help me figure out exactly where the pain was. It was quite nice to actually have someone helping me because I was usually met with, "go to the doctor" "you probably just have gas" "eat more fiber" "welp, maybe your appendiz is going to burst" (That last one was my brother. He loves me.)

So over and over I was told to either shut up, or was given a ridiculous solution. Well I do believe I have mentioned my lack of health insurance in another post. And it is a BIG factor in my life. Especially when you have a mystery illness. But alas, I am still in no place to afford myself the sweet luxury of health insurance.

No matter! I have figured it out. I think Oprah calls these "ah ha! moments". Unfortunately the way that I found out was freaking Elisabeth Hasselbeck. Gross. When she talks I want to punch her. She might have just told me that I am the most beautiful woman in the world and I would still want to punch her in her baby maker.

But anyway, her obnoxious voice got me to stop on a channel where she was hocking her new book. I listened for a bit and it seemed to describe me. I immediately decided to do a gluten free diet for a month or so to gauge amount of pain I was in.
It stopped. All together, no pain. It was tough the first couple of weeks. I still find it difficult to eat out. But honestly within weeks, I felt nothing. And it was amazing.

I had gotten so used to being doubled over in pain after eating that I found myself waiting. Waiting for it to hit me. I still do sometimes. I am only in month 2 of this lifestyle change and it is here to stay. Thank goodness I have a dietRition best friend who can help me figure out meals I can make. I gotta tell you I have never eaten so much meat in my entire life.

I seemed to have traded one obnioxious trait for another. I may now be that annoying girl at the restaurant asking what is "gluten free" and making sure there is "no bun" on my burgers and such. But I will no longer be the girl sitting there complaining after a meal any longer. I wont be all "i wanna go home, my stomach hurts" or "stop talking to me I hate you as well as my stomach!" Not that I've ever said those things. (sorry to the people who got yelled at while I was dealing with pain, I am pretty much only in touch with my more abrazive feelings, not so much the softer ones.)my bad.

But I'm better now!

...stay tuned.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Will YOU give me ten thousand dollars?

I am so thick headed,but that's another post.(no seriously I'm currently working on how it's possible that I function in life whilst being as stubborn as I am, stay tuned). I am finally sitting down to my computer on what is possibly the nicest day of this summer so far. Not too hot, plenty of sunshine and not a drop of rain forecasted. So I pick THE nicest day to stay inside and babble on to the multitudes (read:negative quantities) of people that have been breahtlessly waiting for a post since May. I have been putting off writing for a couple weeks now. Certainly not due to a lack of goings on to talk about. I started a couple of posts and never finished them...
One was about Rod Piazza and the glorious times where I thought "I'm gonna be a blues singer..you can freaking mumble and jumble words and put a few kick ass notes behind you and people eat that shit up" Rod Piazza wore a suit jacket splattered with gold paint spots. His wife played the piano with her feet and the waitress at Ram's Head Live told my father that they didn't have Guinness but they had another beer like it called "Genius".(Brilliant!) She also said peanut grigio. I love and simultaneously hate people all at the same time!

I had a post about the debauchery that went down in Dewey Beach on Memorial Day weekend. If you've ever heard of Dewey or been lucky enough to have passed through there, then you know. It's no bigger than 13 bars on a single stretch of road will allow. But it's the homiest most comfortable place I have ever been. For 6 years now I have made my way back there to enjoy the splendor (read: half naked surfer boys and a complete disconnect from the rest of the world.) that Dewey provides. For example Suicide Sunday is a time honored tradition at one of the WORLD's greatest bars, The Starboard. Wake up nice and early and get your game face on. Bloody Marys and Mimosas at nine in the afternoon, Eggs Delmarva and a line that boasts "if your not standing in it by 9:15, just go home." So I will spare you the champagne soaked details and get to the moral of this non-post... Ask and you shall recieve. Hostess pages me at 2 hour wait time and says htey're no longer seating. I asked her to reconsider. The owner of the joint gave us a table.
Shots? Done, I didn't pay for any of them.
Pouring a gimundo container of syrup on obnoxious frat boys around us? Yup he seriously let me. Got mad at the aftermath of having WAY more syrup on his face than he had planned. Then later asked me to marry him. (the rule doesn't apply to him, I said no.)
3pm came and the crew was far from coherent...the night ended there. For some, not for me but again the details have been lost in a sea of thoughts consumed by the fact that I will again return this weekend for my best friends little sister(lets call her Henna)'s 21st birthday.

I read the Blogess' post about her aunt dying and though how coincidental that it inspired her to write a post about Mariah Carey and my aunt Christy just passed away 2 weeks ago and I couldn't think of a syllable to write that wouldn't make me curse the heavens for taking such a life force out this world.

I also had a post about, oh shit. I already forgot that one too. Well let me tell you what finally got me to sit down and write after all these weeks.

A loan. A boring stinking banks are failing someone give me a car loan.
So my question is... if they say no. Will YOU give me around 10 grand? Or how about a car in working order? Oh come on. I'm cute.


...stay tuned

Monday, May 18, 2009

Tweet this...

I've got a few posts in the works. I currently updated one because you know you are on your way when you piss some people off on a somewhat anonymous blog like this little one here. Ha.

For now I am semi-obsessed with space walks. Like legit space walks. The more people that check this shit out the better.
My best friends parents work for NASA I have been exposed to it for nearly 10 years of my life and I still don't get it all but right now Mike Massimino and company are in space and they are tweeting.

No lie.

Twitter is literally global. It's awesome and pretty scary at the same time.
Oh and also I ate astronaut food when my best friend brought it home from her internship in Texas this week. The neopolitan ice cream?... pretty...pretttty, good.

Anywho. Follow this guy on twitter. @astro_mike.
And learn yourself some space stuff.
Pass it on.

oh and
...stay tuned.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Do Not Disturb... I'm sunbathing on a boat.

I'm on a boat. Seriously I just took a break from the nicest day that most of the east coast has seen in weeks to show you this video.
Okay I lied. I was thirsty and hungry and graham crackers weren't cutting it. I am currently sunbathing on my dad's boat all day but I popped inside to read something funny... or feed my face. Either one.

Instead of reading anyone else's well thought out Friday blogs I chose to ignore everyone and look for good shit for my own damn blog. I stumbled across this gem upon my brother's insistence that I check out "tow in body boarding".

I was on facebook and across the room he yells "tow in body boarding!" I replied "uhh what?"
"youtube it" he says and I told him "no".

I got on twitter and he says "ahhh i told you isn't it awesome?"
"I'm not looking at it I'm tweeting"
"No one wants to read what you have to write, go look at tow in body boarding"
"I don't have time for that crap!" I hissed back.

So I then went to check it out. He yells something like "yeah, it's tight, I know, I'm cool."
and I told him I didn't listen to anything he ever told me and was not in fact on youtube, I was checking my gmail.
He heard the terrible song in the background and has now patted himself on the back because he knows that after I tweeted the link I was gonna put it up on my blog too. Dangsies.My brother is cooler than I am.

Like I said the song is freaking terrible but the video is genius. This I can promise you is how my brothers and I will spend the summer. The first half trying to figure out who can drive the jet ski masterfully enough to do this at the beach and the second part making sure we can survive the first few attempts.

Happy Friday. (be glad I said it now and not 3 days later, on Monday!)

Happy Friday. (be glad I said it now and not 3 days later, on Monday!)

...stay tuned.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Spoiler Alert:: The Dog Dies.

It has seriously been raining for at least a week straight,maybe two. At least here in Virginia. I stopped watching the weather after day 4 of the rain so I don't know if other parts of the country are drowning like I am. I can't keep track anymore. All I know is that my days off keep getting screwed cuz I just can't motivate myself to do anything when its raining. I can't run outside and I certainly cannot motivate myself to go to the gym instead. (the gym membership I am paying for while trying to rub together two pennies to purchase a new car since mine is laughing in my face with its new starter and 8000 other broken parts)

So here it is day 2409325 of the flood and I have two whole freaking days off and I don't see the clouds a clearing any time soon.
How the hell am I supposed to go shopping for a new car? (Oh I almost forgot about ebay and plenty of other online shopping experiences. Why DO i leave my house ever?)

How the hell am I supposed to party it up for Memorial Day weekend at the beach? It's a tradition and I will not have this massive amount of precipitation bring those plans crashing down. (And yes I will consider it doomsday if it rains just a drop on my beach trip that is still over two weeks away. I'm not a drama queen, just a beach bum.)

How the hell am I supposed to be all baby planning for my BFF who is in preterm labor and gonna pop out this kid any day now? I feel like I am the husband who has to do all this planning but I am a best friend so I do have some representing to do. Especially since the main BFF is in Tey hass (texas duh.) and I have to represent us both. Unless the kid holds on for another week or so when all three of us will be reunited. I'm gonna bring her lunch tomorrow and talk to her belly and tell the little bugger that I am stressing out and I would really like it if she played by the rules and came out on her due date. But I don't really know how that works.

On a random side note: I watched Marley and Me. Yes I am aware I am 68 years late and I just want to tell anyone who is possibly slower than myself. It sucks. The dog dies but thats the most riveting part of the story. Lame.

Up next: Slumdog Millionaire. I'm hoping there is bollywood type dancing, if not, I'm going to be pissssed.

...stay tuned.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Half-Gay **Updated**

Apparently I've pissed a lot of people off in this post. I apologize.Which is hysterical because no one fucking reads this thing.

My life can be funny it can be entertaining but when it isn't I make sure it sounds that way in my blog. Things may be a bit exaggerated in here.(GASP!, A hyperbole?! Not in a writer's life!?@!) I am not in fact calling anyone gay. And if I was, who cares cuz gay people rule. But I'm not. So relax fancy pants and everyone who has to do with this post. My life is blog fodder. I call 'em like I see 'em. Get over it. I have apologized for feelings hurt. I never have and never will intend to hurt anyone, in this blog or in my daily life. It's not who I am. I am in no way a malicious person and my words are all I have. I like to craft a story and this here... is a story.

And because I have previously said I am not a self loathing blogger who deems her shit worthless and still looks for a hand. AND Regardless of the pure fact that I have only a few readers from time to time , I will indeed keep this post up because I'm pretty sure the people I pissed off want nothing to do with me at this point and have no interest in a little blog like this...So here goes.

I recently bought some sexy purple pumps.They were calling my name, gorgeous and shiny, mind you I am in dire need of a new car. Not new new just new like, it runs. But these shoes could not be ignored.

Now before you start hurling stones at me and preaching about saving or spending wisely,I want to tell you that they only cost 7 dollars. And if you've met a woman who can pass up a good pair of heels and a good deal, well then you will have met a man. No such woman exists.

Problem is, the last man I was trying to date, kind of had that same flare for shoes that I have. (I should have freaking known)

Now I got me a collection of high heels, no Jimmy Choos, no LaBoutins either. But sister can add some flavor to her outfits when need be.

So every time we would go out, I'd arrive all gussied up (Timeout: How can I NOT have a boyfriend yet? All I want to do is get dressed up when we go out, watch sports when we don't and make people laugh in between? This world is just cruel.)

Anyway, upon arrival the first thing he would do is look at my heels and make a comment. Sometimes he'd even lift my pant leg to get a better look. Now I thought "oh cool he appreciates how I get all fancy for him" A guy that takes me out, calls me back AND appreciates my uncomfortable but oh so sexy footwear?! Besides the ex-wife and kid he's perfect!

Hmmm, wait isn't he wearing some expensive boots or crocodile shoes himself? Damnit. Gay. My flipping Gaydar failed me. I managed to go on multiple dates (with plenty of perfect cleavage gone to waste) with this guy and not notice this? Maybe I could just chalk it up to his Fancy Pants having some knowledge about fashion. He does wear Versace eye glasses. I just can't bring myself to accept this fact.

Unnntil, one night.

Unfortunately it all came to a screeching halt when I rushed to see him one night when I was in a grumpy ass mood and I realized he wanted a geisha. Not a girlfriend. He wanted some PYT to entertain him. He wanted a porcelain doll that was funny and could dance with him. (Oh crap, he liked to dance too. How could I have NOT known?!?) He wasn't the least bit attracted to me. Now his friend Gigantor next to him. The Dude?! Yeah he would dance with him. And rather closely I might add.

So that night,out of his mouth come the words "half gay" and I swooped my head around and said "um? why the hell am I here then?"

I then began to ponder a few things, mostly the difference between half gay and bisexual.

In my head there is a difference...bisexual is a clear desire to be with both genders. Half gay is more along the lines of a confused person. One who may come off "metro" at first. One who cares about shoes on girls but has a guy in tow everywhere he goes. One who claims that only reason he can't be gay is that he has reproduced. Once.

and we haven't gone out again since then.Shocker.

...stay tuned.

Friday, April 10, 2009

*Updated*Somebody get the manager please...

Who the hell invented the internet? And why the hell are they punishing me?

I recently moved. I think I spoke of this lovely venture that I tend to do every 10-12 months... yeah. About that.

Oops we forgot to think ahead and plan for cable and internet to be set up within the first week of moving in.

I'm dying.

I have NO cable. Meaning the two new episodes of The Office last night? Yeah this girl didn't get to see them. I'm seriously dying people.

I have no internet. So I am at the library right now. Did you just read that?

Library. (or Lybarry if you are cool)

When is the last time you were in a library?

So this is just to tell you that there is much more to be said in the TRI-UMPH bloggy blog but FIOS has decided that reading books and being productive for 3 plus weeks is actually fun.
(they're wrong by the way. Dead wrong)

...stay tuned.

Only two more days until the Fios people come and send my roommate and I back into the 21st century. Then I will be able to get back to some semblance of my normal routine. I know there are people waiting with baited breath. Thanks for waiting. I swear it will be worth it. I've had quite an adventurous two weeks since the cable and internet guys crushed my dreams and told me I have to.. GASP.. wait for something...dangsies.
Come to think of it they even have rooms dedicated to waiting. I would have NEVER survived in any other generation than the one I'm living in currently.And even now thigns just aren't fast enough for me. Awesome, I just came to the realization that I'm a spoiled effing brat. Eh well.

I hope you guys are coming to as many life altering conclusions while I make you wait.

...stay tuned!

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Cops go hardcore at the end of the month, Me, I tend to ease up a bit.

I don't know if this counts as a real post. I am just consumed by random effing thoughts right now that I must share them. I apologize in advance. Especially because I am not one of those self loathing bloggers who apologizes for shit they write and then looks for pity.

Wait Stop Don't.You are actually gonna love this.
So let me try that again.

I'm full of freaking genius today and I cannot contain it in one thought process. So here I will give you all of them. Some people call that babbling, but as the joke goes...(my name is brooke. think about it.)

Musings of a Twenty Something:

**18 year old boys smell freaking delicious.

Well I don't really think eating the smell of Abercrombie is what I want. I want tons of half naked Abercrombie models running around, but I digress.
One young man got up from a table tonight right as I was walking by and I got a whiff. Mmmmm. Guys my age and older don't wear that crap anymore.The last time I probably smelled it was the last time I dated an 18 year old. Sooo like, in highschool. It does smell good...but it is laced with the smell of youth as well.
(and we all know how much I love younger guys. not.)

When the hell did I become the 24 year old who kind of feels dirty for thinking this way anyway?Dangsies!

** Tonight I rested my boobs on the bar, on command.

I am getting promoted.(those two statements don't seem to go together, but they do I promise.) Again. (within 7 months of working there, soon I will pretty much take over the world, yeah I'm effing that awesome)

Anyhowzer, They want me (or my C cups rather) to bartend!
Had I been asked 6 months ago, I would have refused. I am not cut out to be the schmoozy floozy. Which is pretty much necessary to be a bartender.
I think I can manage to avoid being sleazy behind the bar at JobOne (formerly JobTwo)

Plus it only opens up a world of opportunity, financially it is so much smarter to be a bartender. The tips far outweigh that of a server. So my grand plan is to train for the next few weeks. Revamp my server schedule to beef up the Captain shifts and then get a few bar shifts and the rest of the time start working at the new JobTwo.
(more on that later)

**I can tie a knot in a cherry stem. (and I'm not just trying to be like the Flobots)

People think it is impossible. I was one of those people until tonight. I was especially determined tonight. My younger sister has always been able to do it.
And now I can add that on my list of qualities that mean absolutely nothing about me but am sure to tell someone within five minutes of sitting at a bar next to them.

**I thought I was an animal lover until I met my new roommate.

She has.. drum roll please...

2 cats.(Gross, they better not pee anywhere "in or around the coat area")

1 rabbit.. that's fine. I think.(My one rabbit that I owned was actually a bunny, the difference is their size. Mine dies of the sniffles. An actual ailment known to cause death in bunnies. Look it up.)

1 Snake. Gasp! I actually like snakes but most people freak out about that one.

and 3 (count them, three) Sugar Gliders.
WTF is a sugar glider? The closest comparison I can offer you is a flying squirrel. Which is completely inaccurate. However it's a good visual to have. Though squirrels are not nocturnal and sugar gliders are. (making them all the more weird as a pet because she keeps them in her closet.)

Yeah, I am moving in with Ace freaking Ventura.

...stay tuned.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Oops I Did It Again.

It's moving dayyyyyyy.

Yup, my life is the ever shifting thought process.It never has time to be more than that. It's like I have severe ADD or something, because for the last 7 years I have moved at least once a year. ( wait for that to settle in, seven effing moves at the very least)

Imagine, taking all of your shit. Putting it in boxes, trash bags and even random suitcases and then un loading it. And now do that over and over again.

Oh and all over again.

That's what it is like to be me. Fuck. I haven't even been anywhere really cool.
I lived in L.A. but that is where the moving once a year started. And I have ended up in VA. Again. And again. This is a new low. The last three moves have been within 10 miles of each other. (Holy shit I am never getting out of this place.)

Talks of San Diego still linger. But honestly I am scared to do the whole West Coast on a whim move again. I'd rather go to Costa Rica for a few months. It is seemingly just a place for me to rest my head. I've not cultivated anything more from each place I live. (except an emptier wallet and some good my roommates suck stories.)

If I am just staying at one place to get to another you think I would come up with some cooler ideas than effing Northern Virginia. I grew up here for shit's sake.

So this week brings me to probably the least raucus of moves. The least jolting. But the most irritating.
I've spoken of my basement dwelling. And my lucky ass living with a kick ass family for free.

So why the hell am I moving into a tiny ass townhouse where I feel like nothing will be mine? I guess turning 24 means you have to grow up or something. Not live in other peoples basements. Even if it is for free.

Which is the stupidest way of growing up I can think of. Because the more I grow up the more money I need and.. uhh.. hello.. free means I keep the money I would be giving to some landlord. Duh.

Oh and from what I hear. Growing up ain't all it's cracked up to be. Fancy pants is trying to find a way to successfully regress from 33 backwards. (I told him he is not allowed to go younger than 29 though. I will be 28 by the time he Bejamin Buttons it all the way back to 29. And lord knows I can't date younger guys! Ha!)

Oh the mere thought of packing my clothes alone has me on the verge of tears.
(I do own way too many clothes and local charities reap the benefits of my less than yearly moves)

Oh and to top it off my brother so sweetly loaded some of his own shit into my storage unit and just like any good big brother, ran off with my key to the unit. Took my dyson vacuum and put his heavy ass stuff right in the way of all my stuff.

Oh no worries, I'm sure I can pull it off...little miss social butterfly who has so many friends can never count on anyone else to help her with this kinda stuff.
To be fair, once a year is less a favor and more of a type of employment. That I do not pay them for.)

The one upside... and it's crazy that this is so exciting to me but I get to put my Kitchen Aid mixer on the counter and freaking bake the hell out of anything I can throw into that sucker. I am more excited for that then not being kicked off the couch by 13 year old boys when I am watching the NCAA tournament to find out the final match up of the Final Four. I am a little excited to feel a space that is my own.

Although I am also pretty excited to know that I can invite someone back to my place now. (Mom, I meant friends! Only friends.)

Oh sweet baby jesus. Tiny 6 month old jesus.
Someone come find me under my laundry pile and help me move!

...stay tuned.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Call Dr. Drew

I'm addicted.
Seriously, it's bad.

I wake up, wanting this drug. If I don't get some during the day, it's going to be a rough night. I am shaken from my sleep with extremely vivid dreams about my addiction. My personality is that of a constant user who knows how to get what she wants.

The highs are quick and fleeting. The lows can last for days.
I don't really drink.
I've never smoked anything in my life.

But when it comes to this, I am a freaking junkie.

I am addicted to... MEN.

It's the worst addiction out there. I ride the highs and lows of dating slash flirting each and every day.
I know I am a flirt. (I have known this for a very long time.)
I know I am a tease. (I mus've been born without a slutty bone in my body. Dangsies.)

So here I am, cooped up inside my own little world of addiction.
Round and round I go. Does he like me? Will he call? What does that mean? SHould I ask him out or wait for him to ask me out? Why hasn't he complimented anything about me except my boobs? Why won't he kiss me? blah blah blah....

Guys. You may not be able to relate to this. Or understand it at all. I don't expect you to. You are simple. And I have been told that I over think things.

Well, girls, you understand this right? How can I not constantly think about men? We all do. It's fun, most of the time. But sometimes...
Wait?! Was that a text message?God I hope it's from a boy. Oh but which one?

Doesn't really matter. I mean. I would like to get messages and calls from certain men in my life more than others. But when I going through withdrawal anything will do.

I recently joked with a girlfriend that I realized that men were my drug. I am not out whore-ing it up so I don't really think I need Dr. Drew. But when you walk into work one day, down and out and the only thing you can attribute to your grumpiness is the lack of men "oohing" and "aaahing" over you. Well then you know you've got a problem.
Or I have a problem I should say.

Or how about days when I bounce around and tell every other woman in my life about the current guy. Rarely oh so rarely a boyfriend. Truthfully most of them last just mere moments in my revolving door of men in my life.

It's sad when said women in my life recount a specific man and I cannot recall whom they are talking about.

I usually describe them in detail so they have only attributes to try and jog my memory. Sadly they don't have names.
The firefighter or
the geek soccer player or
the guy from Tech or
the 64 year old (which isn't actually an age of a person I've dated but my brothers have decided all the older guys I date(no older than 35 mind you) are no longer allowed a reasonable number for their ages, so it ranges from late 50's to early 80's.. it's awesome when they yell "wait you mean you're 75 year old?" , "Why yes brother, my 92 year old boyfriend and I are very happy together, thank you!"} (My family loves me)

So when I didn't get (and still haven't gotten)what I really wanted from the current guy, sure enough I turned around and there was a ripe 21 year old. He thinks we are gonna go out sometime. And I think he is just pretty to look at and I know he just wants to see me naked so I won't be pursuing anything with him. What I will do is use the attention I get from him to suffice while FP throws me for some more loops. Yeah I'm using one drug to hold me over until I get what I really want.

I've been called fun, and entertaining and the life of the party. But little does everyone know that my actions are equivalent to the itchy arms of a heroine user or the pacing back and forth outside of a dealers house.

So here I am, currently in a state of naught. Neither high nor low. I am trying to control the urges. I'm just gonna go to the gym. And make sure I wear a super tight super cute outfit so I get a glance or two. That should get me high enough today.

I'm a complete sociopath. Awesome.

...stay tuned.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A Boy Made Me Do It

I woke up from a coma today.
Yeah, another life coma. Believe it.

Man I seriously need health insurance. Gotta get those things checked out.

I'm pretty sure it's like one life coma per year is healthy. I mean NOT healthy, but do able. (And no, that's not what she said, Will!! Jeez. She isn't nearly as slutty as people make her out to be. And she is pretty tired of being referenced all the time.Okay? So just drop it)

But honestly, I am 24 years old now. I swear it was yesterday that I was having the shittiest twenty first birthday ever.
And just a few weeks ago I was angst ridden and West Coast bound...

I never really listened to old people when they have told me about how fast life goes and you don't realize it, so enjoy it blah blah blah.

All I can think about with old people is how in nursing school I was told we weren't allowed to call them cute.....Under any circumstance!

Yet, still no memo on calling the short 24 year old cute. I still have to endure this shit. Just cuz I'm fun sized doesn't mean I...Holy crap I'm gonna be old one day! I just fucking figured that out! ( and I will be freaking cute then too, I'm sure of it.)
So maybe as long as I keep surrounding myself with older men. (NOT a problem for this girl) then I will never feel quite as old as them! Yay. Genius plan.

Back to birthdays. This year. Thank God for Florida. I mean we don't have to get all biblical here because it is just Florida I'm talking about. But someone may have been missing a toe or twelve if I didn't go to Cocoa Beach for 5 days before my birthday. (Thank you best friend.)

Quickly I will explain. (quickly, only because I am convinced anyone who is reading this has better things to do and is always waiting for me to get to the point. Where you can then exclaim immediate judgment upon me... "Hysterical!" or "Genius!" or "You're hot I want to date you!"... wait you couldn't possibly get all that from a blog post... unless. No never mind.)

I like birthdays. You wouldn't know about my annual birthday countdown because I have been effing lazy this year and felt no need to make you endure the 3 months of counting down until I was twenty..whatever the hell age I am.

But in my head and to the people around me, my birthday is the shit. This is when I go crazy. I make big plans and I intend to live on a grand scale for just a day. (I'm lying to you, I get a birthday week, or two. The one leading up to and the one following. Deal with it.) I invite anyone to come join in the festivities and this year.

My awesome idea was...

Atlantic City.

Seriously, I was excited. Many people tried to talk me out of my excitement. They would say.."it'll underwhelm you" "do you guys ALL really want to gamble?" "the strip club on 12th is the place you should..." Well whatever they said. There was many a person who apparently have clairvoyant abilities and tried to tell me.

I ignored them all. I had 7 other people drive up and stay in a horrendous pube filled hotel. (according to Sonny, they're nutritional, but don't take his word for it.Stay away kids)

7 of us have NEVER been there before. The one who has, was days away from getting married. So what he remembers is pretty much not valid. (Except that strip club he was telling us about.)

Let me fast forward and tell you how the night ended and my actual birth day began.
With me slamming the hotel door yelling " GO F*!% YOURSELF" and then I went back into my room and my best friend sang happy birthday and gave me my annual lemon cake.

The in between was all whining and complaining about losing 20 dollars in one WHOLE hour. And lots of drunken antics, and no real big winners to speak of...

So yeah icksnay on the ewNay erseyJay Forever. I never want to visit that state again.

Happppy Birthday to me.

So it's understandable that an impromptu trip to Florida for five days sitting with my best friend wooing multiple crowds of men by the beach was much more pleasant than a night in a dirty hotel where I tried to play matchmaker with my weekend plans and everyone else who came along.

The good thing about birthdays. They keep on comin'.

p.s. thanks Stephen for reminding me why I like to write, and why I should get back to posting regularly on here.
I have to share with you his texts this morning, that lead to the title of this post.
My thoughts in parentheses

"So I just read a few posts on your blog.

(I love this because now I know he stalks me, cuz I never mentioned my blog to him!
You are a f-ing hysterical writer. I was seriously laughing.

(I have NO clue which posts he read, sorry I can't vouch for the whole me being funny)
Who knew you could write?
( Um? I did. Thanks.)
I mean you sure as hell can't drive a kart."

(He took me go karting on Sunday. I wish I could say he was lying. But I sucked ass.)

To which I responded
"You just made my freaking day. I haven't been able to write since I share my computer is in storage right now.
(and i live in the stone age and don't have a laptop.)
AND I wasn't exactly sure anyone actually liked my blog. Writing is how I want to make my fortune in life, I'm currently working on a series of children's books."

And then this little gem...
"I'm impressed. And frightened at the same time... re: the kids books. Kinda like when I discovered George Carlin narrated Thomas the Tank Engine Shows...as my son watches."

Did anyone just read that?! I like that comparison. Even if it is meant not in the way that I am like George Carlin in any way shape or form. Because I obviously know that. Much less my level of comedy being anywhere near able to reach that of the late great Mr. Carlin's. But to compare the shock and horror a hot Dad feels when realizing my mouth of a sailor is trying to write a series of successful children's books, well it's a great day.

...stay tuned.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Thank You Sir, May I Have Another?

I'm pretty sure everyone has some crazy cockamamie conspiracy theory that they have come up with and truly believe.
Like the government is listening to our cell phone conversations.
(whaaaaaaat!? !That's for real, like for real for real!!?)

okay how about...

GPS systems can be hacked into and people can stalk you everywhere you go
(that's legit too? Shiittttt!)

the leprechauns at the end of rainbows aren't handing out gold coins from their pots, instead they're armed with pistols and glocks.
(hello It's a freaking recession!!) (What? Just me?)

But for real. I have this twinge every time I fill up my car with gasoline. This slight hesitation. I believe I am being taken for a ride. (Pun intended) Bear with me here while I explain..

Let me start by saying my car is well, jinxed, to say the least. So as a fun joke (my car is freaking HIL-arious by the way) the regulator or valve or flux capacitor or some other car sounding word thing inside the gas tank doesn't work.

I cannot fill up my gas tank like everyone else.

I have to stand and hold the nozzle at a very specific angle with the exact amount of pressure on the handle for my tank to allow gas to flow into it. If I don't do exactly as my tank demands it immediately ceases all flow and allows me to adjust and try again.And again and again. Sometimes just pennies worth of gasoline get in, sometimes dollars but if I move the slightest bit from that point that was working. BAM! Off goes the pump and all the people at surrounding pumps either think I'm dense as shit and keep trying to top off my tank or that I'm dense as shit and don't realize there is a little lever underneath that will allow you to lock the nozzle in as is and walk away as it still pumps.

So I may be paying a bit more attention to detail than others. You lucky bastards that get to stick it in and walk away. (that's what she said!Wait!What? Dangsies I don't even like that's what she said jokes!)

Anyway, It is a pain in the freaking ass. And have you seen the weather channel lately?!?Holy frigid nipples Batman! It's colder than Arnold Schwarzeneggar's hands after a long ride home from a masterful evening of evil. My little ass has to stand outside for every glorious moment of gasoline to drip into my tank.

So there I am. Holding the pump a lot closer than I care for. Sometimes with two hands. (Yes I recognize the visual you all just got.)
I am FULLY convinced that when you pre pay. Which I never used to do. Not because of this suspicion but because I never had cash money. Now that I am a waitress, it's all I have and I feel like a drug dealer at times.
(It's the presence of 1's that separate the drug dealers from the strippers by the way.)

My only option nowadays it to make it rain on the cashier and give him that Andrew Jackson that it takes to flll my take. And as I am sure you all well know, when you pre pay, they slow down the flow of liquid as it nears the total amount.

Some places are different than others. Some start slowing down at 50 cents to go others anywhere up to 10 cents to go.
Locally its about 30 cents to go.

Here's my contention. I believe there is NO MORE GAS FLOWING into my car as soon as that pressure drops and the numbers slowly climb to the total. I honestly believe that I am no longer getting any more gas at this point. I can't be. Especially in this weather. Does gas freeze? Cuz it would totally do that in the tube if it was going as slow as it does with the little amount that is supposedly coming out.

So that's my conspiracy theory. And I don't think I can do anything about it. That's whats most upsetting. Taking on the Oil Companies. What am I ? Erin Brocovich?

I'm not. I will tell you that. And I am no Julia Roberts playing Erin Brocovich either. Dangsies!

I guess I could stop this nonsense and always pay with my card. But then I would have to be responsible and go to the bank and deposit shit and check my balance and stuff.

Is probably rather bitch about losing 30 cents worth of gasoline every time.

Anyway I'm totally buying a hybrid suckers! That'll teach 'em.

...stay tuned.

Monday, January 19, 2009

That little extra tip.

A little piece of me died last night.

The piece that is a die hard Baltimore Ravens fan. That is actually a huuuuugee part of a little girl.

Luckily there is enough left of me to go on... that is until I showed up at work and had to come to terms with two bets I made. With Steelers fans. Ew.

I also have tons of Steelers fans that are my friends. (I continually ask myself why that is, but I just cant seem to get rid of them.) So of course my Facebook wall is lit up with people in hysterics about their team sweeping my team this season.
A fact that I was not willing to admit. The second regular season game was won by a bullshit touchdown.
I don't blame much on the refs but I just don't agree with that call. You can review it all you want ESPN and draw a little line to show me just how the ball crossed the plane but I refuse to believe it. The refs took just a little bit of time to TURN OVER the ruling on the field. Which was no touchdown. (ahembullshitcoughcough)

Last night however was indeed a fair fight. We lost fair andsquare. We did not have enough steam to take us to their goal line one more time. Not that that alone would have done it. But we were a team that has played 17 weeks in a row. And a team whose starting line up reflected the lack of time off.
But the injured wanted to play last night. Willis, Ray Rice, and T Sizzle, who barely moved his right shoulder unless he was sacking Baby Ben. (Which was freaking GLORIOUS)

And many more were banged up before during and after this game. Willis McGahee being the most concerning of all. a hit the likes of which I have never seen. Both players were shaken up but I thought he was paralyzed.My heart sank and that is when I threw in the towel. The terrible towel that is.

I dreaded going to work today, but found a way to get through it.

You know, you can completely deflate a persons arrogance and gloating if you just happily smile and go with the flow. So yes, I will be donning a Steelers jersey during the Superbowl. I will not bitch about it.

In fact, my secret plan is to use it to my advantage. A poor little girl has to work in a gross yucky Steelers jersey and serve you food and work for tips. Wouldn't you want to give her a little extra tip to help her through?
That's the angle I am working. I'll let you know how it pans out when that fateful day is upon us.

So through the smile, my heart is broken. I was Wacco for Flacco hon.
But then again a rookie QB and Head Coach going to the AFC championship aint half bad by me.


...stay tuned.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

I'm kind of a big deal.

That's me in the middle.
I recently went to LA and met up with Heidi and Giselle and Tyra and those girls. It was cool, I got to wear a shirt like theirs.
Anyway, I am completely full of shit. But I had fun making this little picture. A slight exaggeration of a dream that I kind of have. I have always said that given another foot in heighth and I would totally be a model. Probably not true, but easy to cite my lack of tallness as the reason why I am not there with those women in reality.

Create your own FACEinHOLE

I created another one for my brother. Hysterical because I'm pretty sure he doesn't like Beckham and would rather meet Wayne Rooney.

Create your own FACEinHOLE

Whose face is replaced by his. Anywho, I think I could do this all day. If I didn't have a job.

Oh,I dont have to be at work until 6pm tomorrow? Sweet. Be expecting more of these! I'm gonna create a whole web of lies and start printing them out and framing them. I'll be a fake celebrity stalker monger whore thing. Kind of like Perez Hilton.

Nice to be back by the way.

...stay tuned.