Sunday, July 31, 2011

Weekend Conversations

The family reunion is over and everyone has made their way from the homestead back to their own domiciles. I'm sure there is a small part of my parents hearts that misses us already. I'm doubly sure the biggest part of their hearts is singing with joy that they have their home back. We managed to leave them 7 cases of beer and quite a bit of vodka so they will be able to celebrate the silence for weeks on end.

The following is a list of my favorite conversations from the weekend:

Marti (when discussing seeing all the cousins after decades)- "I looked around and I thought, We all look damn good!"
________________

Me (waiting to take pictures)- It's freaking hot out here. Let's get this done. Wasn't someone Photo Shopped into another picture we did? Just take my picture now and Photo Shop it onto some one's body later. I don't care who. Ryan's maybe.
Jeana (pointing to her husband)- C'mon. Don't you want to be on my husband's man meat?
Me (looking at a poor unsuspecting uncle sitting at our table)- I'm so sorry.

________________


Me (referencing my daughter holding her baby cousin in the grand kid picture)- No one look at my daughter holding a baby. Alex don't get any ideas. Zach (boyfriend) LOOK AWAY!
Zach- Don't worry Angie, our baby won't be here for another eight and a half months.
Me- I will kill you.
________________



Denny- Did you look at the back of the Reunion Shirts? Dena, Ryan, Angie, Beckie, Christ, Jeana...
Me- Oh God. There's no "y" on it. She lost the "y" on another shirt when we were little. Well this reunion could use some Christ.

________________


Paul- What do you mean slept together? We're all grown ups here. At this age we want to know if there will be sex and how much it's going to cost. It ALWAYS costs.
Matt- I'm getting married. I am not saying anything. I am a follower now.

________________

From what I can tell everyone had a great time. I don't recall anyone crying, fighting, hitting, screaming, or having to be put in a corner which is sort of outstanding. Bonus, I brought my son home for the next two weeks... during which he will avoid actually spending time with me by hooking up with all of his friends prior to the start of the new school year. It will be so good to have him home for awhile! 

Saturday, July 30, 2011

And now a word from our sponsor:

Is your liver angry with you? Have you invested a large amount of your time asking if it's 5 o'clock somewhere? Sobriety could be for you. 


Thursday, July 28, 2011

Smut Day - You have GOT to be kidding me!

It's smut day at the office! Today's issue... Cosmo May 2011. If  you get a chance to check it out, turn to page 141. 75 Sex Moves His Ex Didn't Do. These are always enlightening and once in awhile they throw in a little infuriating for good measure. FOR INSTANCE.... whose freaking idea was it to print the following:

11.  "Past girlfriends should have come up with cool, brand new positions I had never heard of, then showed me how to do them." - Esteban, 18

Listen up, Esteban. You're 18. If your past girlfriends didn't have cool brand new positions to show you... it's because you, young man, are quite obviously a whore and they were not. If you are dating girls around your own age, your PAST girlfriends probably weren't old enough to buy porn to come up with new ideas for your kinky, hormone ridden, perv seeking ass. Marcus across the way thinks you should go find a cougar and get your eyes scratched out. I tend to agree.

Let's be real here kiddo... if they had shown up on Friday after the football game and provided you with some new positions and they were GOOD at it, you'd have likely enjoyed the sex and then told everyone they were whores. How did she know that position? Why is she so good at it?  If you're this bored with the current sex positions in your repertoire then I pity you in your 30s or 40s. Poor you, all tricked out by 18! Oh, the humanity!

Esteban? Can I call you Esteban... since it's your name? Okay then... Pop on over to The Good, The Bad, The Worse. Making out is the best part of the whole deal. Don't rush it. 

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

20x40 Time Keeps On Tickin

Thanks to one of my readers I've been putting a lot of thought into my 40 by 40 list. Not as much as I ought to, because I only have 20. So this will be a 20x40 list and then I'll have a 20x50 list to work on. 

1.Visit Italy- Rome and Venice and Pisa and gorge myself with tasty traditional foods, local wines, meet the Pope. See the Leaning Tower up close. Attempt to push it over. Ride in a gondola that doesn't only go around the casino in Vegas.

2. Perfect my recipe for Zuppa Toscana and then find out if Olive Garden is even remotely on base by trying some in Italy. Feed to #13. If he dies, find new potential husband.

3. Visit France- Eiffel Tower, Louvre, the Palace at Versailles. French kiss a cute guy, because it's what ya do.

4. Make a brie en croute as pretty as Paula Dean's- I am also going to strive to make it at least 2x more fattening. I will put on a proper French accent while I make it and even stick on a little French Chef mustache.

5. Go back to Ireland- This time hitting the Republic. Dublin, Cork, Galway. See Giant's Causeway, Cliffs of Moher, have a proper Irish coffee, possibly spend a month as a drunk out of work author. 

6. Learn to do a proper shepherd's pie. Use this to lure unsuspecting Irishmen to my cottage for lewd and lascivious acts. 

7. Go back to Scotland- I miss my Sue. I need a good week of laughing and snuggling. Would like to go back to Edinburgh as well as taking time to visit Glasgow.While in Glasgow, learn to speak Glaswegian. It seems to me to be the Scottish version of Cajun. It's LIKE English but completely impossible to understand.

8. Learn to make Sue's roast lamb and those kick ass potatoes she made to go with them! Also, go to Matalan for 3 hours straight and spend every single dime I have on things I do not need and will pretend I didn't buy while in Scotland. Also... get Sue silly drunk on champagne. She needs it.

9. Go back to Liverpool- Visit Lesley's Rob and maybe Bob C! Take a couple friends and party our way down the Matthew's Street.... purely as a tribute of course. Also make them take the ferry with me and force them to sing along badly with the Ferry Cross the Mersey song. You must sit by at least one obvious tourist (other than your dork-ass self) and sign the damn song with a freakin smile... for like 30 minutes.

10. Machu Picchu- Must do. While in the area, take a jungle canopy tour. Spend a little time being the Dian Fossey of howler monkeys. Steal a mango from one.

11. Panama Canal- Or hell.. just Panama. I have my vacation home already picked out! I will load Van Halen to my iPod when Apple gets around to freaking sending me one. < Dear Apple, I am a little pissed off that you don't seem to love me.>

12. Write a book- This will probably be a book on sexual positions I don't recommend because they cause leg cramps.

13. Marriage- I'm going to make a very nice wife. I have had some time to work the kinks out. I will stop choosing men who suck. Why didn't I think of that earlier?!

14. Leaving South Dakota- While I initially planned for this to be a bit like the Nick Cage/Elisabeth Shue movie I don't think I can actually drink as well as he can. So really the goal is just to GTFO of here. I am starting that process in 3 weeks.

15. Buy that latex catsuit- Back in 2009 I told myself that I was going to look smoking hot in a latex cat suit and by God it's time. I don't give a shit if you all think I'm kinky and twisted. I don't care if you think my goals lack substance. You know where you can stick your substance? I have an idea, but it might seem a little kinky.

16. Become conversational in French and Italian- These things will be helpful for when I am in France and Italy and possibly even in Montreal trying to make small talk with the locals and looking for a husband. It would be good to know for sure that the person I'm flirting with didn't just say, "I would like to take you home and bind your hands and feet with duct tape and string you up from a beam and then disembowel you." Seriously people, French and Italian are so beautiful when spoken that I would probably just smile stupidly and go along willingly.

17. Deep sea fishing- I want to catch a marlin. I once put a bunch of corn on a hook and went fishing in Little George Lake. I caught a carp and that little bastard put up one hell of a fight. Of course when I got it to shore I had absolutely no idea what the hell do to with it, but a marlin? Oh hell yeah. I would have that bitch stuffed and give it to someone who likes fish as a present. Win/Win

18. Scuba- I've been putting off my scuba classes and I should be ashamed of myself. I am only giving myself until next spring to complete this project. Maybe I'll get lucky and get to punch a shark in the nose. If that turns out to be a big fat lie, I loved you all and I wish we had gotten more time to spend together.

19. Have another baby- Bwahahahaa

20. Do a Mud Run- I hate running, abhor it really. It makes my right knee hurt. It makes my boobs hurt. I sweat profusely when I do it. Did I mention I hate running? The Mud Run would be a bitch to complete, but I want to do it.

So there we are. I'm thought out for the day. Give me some ideas! What else should be on there?

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

School Bus Poetry, Flop Houses, and Huffing - Ah my childhood

When you're poor folk, and you live on a family farm, and your landlord's are your parents... you live in the little house. Have you ever seen a house that was shingled instead of sided? No, not shake shingles... TAR shingles. I believe the goal was to use a pattern that looked like brick. What it actually looked like was tar shingles that someone thought looked a little like brick. When I was little I remember thinking we had a pretty nice house. Know why? Because I didn't go to a lot of other people's houses, that's why. My mother had grown up in the little house for a good portion of her childhood as well, and when my great grandparents moved to town, my grandparents moved up. When my parents got married, we moved in.

It's the circle of life, Simba. It's the circle of life. 

Unlike the generations before mine... I never did get to move to the main house. My mother remarried and we moved to a new area community. With no one else willing to move into it, the little house was relegated to farm storage. It became the farm catchall for seed corn, soybeans, chemicals, a pot bellied pig for a time, spray paint, small yard implements, etc. It also became... our Holiday Flop House.

The upper rooms still had random bits of my life in them. Parts of toys, old dressers, crayons, and odd memorabilia from my bio-dad's war days. Regardless of the intended new purpose... it officially became a club house for my cousins, my siblings, and I. During the holiday gatherings, we would sneak off to the little house and gather in the upstairs bedrooms. We would sometimes smoke cigarettes, usually gossip, and always graffiti the hell out of the walls.

There were times when we were more artistic. We embraced our inner poets and shared prose with each other. My favorite goes something like this... <clears throat>

Scag scag you bloody rag
You filthy, slimy, slut
Between your thighs
Green fungus lies
And maggots crawl
Out of your butt

I am not sure how the next bit goes, but I do recall it ended with "die of the drizzling shits". I learned this poem on the school bus from an older kid named Mike Blum. He was always in the front of the bus where he could be monitored by the bus driver... probably for this very reason.

Our little flop house was also the place where we first learned the dangers of "huffing". It's not that we were trying to get high, we weren't. We were trying to express ourselves! You see, farm tractors occasionally need to be repainted. Maybe there is a scratch somewhere. If you don't clean it and repaint quickly you will get rust. It was for that reason that my grandpa and uncle kept cans of John Deere green spray paint in our little home away from home. When we discovered the joy of graffiti with paint as opposed to crayons we were hooked.

We painted joyously for over an hour. At least 4 of us in a 12x12 room, "emoting" to our hearts content. When we decided to rejoin the family, our grandfather met us at the door. "Have you been in the spray paint?" he asked. Obviously we lied. That's what you do. He wasn't wearing a look that said, "FANTASTIC~ YOU FOUND THE SPRAY PAINT! LET'S CELEBRATE THIS MOMENT MY LITTLE MICHAEL ANGELOS! ".

Immediately we knew someone had seen us, narced on us, probably my little sister. STOOL PIGEON! RAT FINK! IT HAD TO BE HER!!! Orrrrrr maybe it was the rings of John Deere green inhaled paint surrounding our noses. You would have thought we looked at each other at least once on the walk home... but we were probably too high to notice.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Having the Sex Talk - Where's the Handbook?!

The best handbook any of us have for parenting generally comes from the people who raised us. My mother was a wonderful role model when it came to that. Between her and her husband, they did everything they could to turn us into hard working, respectful, loving individuals.

When I was in junior high, my mom decided it would be a good time to sit my brother, myself, and my sister down for a frank talk about sex. When we were growing up, you didn't get an actual sex talk at school until you reached high school. There you learned that everything you did naked or partially naked could lead to babies and worse yet... rotten genitalia, burning urination, and all sorts of filth and disease.

It started out uncomfortable enough. Given the fact that my grandmother probably never discussed sex with her children, my mom was doing a bang up job! There were nervous giggles, awkward pauses, and finally... the words that ended the discussion altogether. "Yeah, Ryan. If some girl tells you not to worry. You won't get pregnant the first time. Don't believe her!" said my precocious little sister. My mom replied, "If you're not going to take this seriously we're not going to talk about it!" And we all laughed (except her).

Sure that I was following the handbook, when my daughter was in 6th grade I thought it might be a good idea to have "the talk" with her. I thought surely, by the age of 12 she must have some inkling as to what went on between adults behind closed doors. It was time. I sat her down (without her younger brother) and calmly tried to explain sex. I didn't want her to only see the clinical view of sex that kids learn through the standard class at school. I wanted her to understand that there was more to it than making babies.

I carefully explained that sex is something that is shared between two adults who love each other. It's an act of affection that is meant to show love, appreciation, and emotion. I wanted her to understand that it was a very special gift that you reserved for someone important that you wanted to share your inner most emotions and feelings with. There was a lot of nodding, a few looks of confusion, and what appeared to be some "ah ha!" moments. When the conversation drew to a close, I asked if she had any questions. She had some small questions that dealt more with things she had heard in class, but all in all it was pretty cut and dried. I was relieved.

Not more than a week later I realized that as much as I wanted our conversation to be open and honest, I forgot to explain that sex is a private matter between two people. I opened the door to the bedroom one morning to find a neatly folded note on the floor outside the door. I don't know why, but I immediately panicked. My first thought was that she had run away in the middle of the night and left me a goodbye note.

I quickly snapped up the note and opened it with my heart in my throat. When I read the words that she had written, I was torn between complete embarrassment and hysterical laughter.

Dear Mom,
I got up to go to the bathroom last night late and your door was open a little. You didn't have your clothes on. Were you showing **** your appreciation?
Love, Alex

Obviously a second talk was in order. She's not asked me about my sex life since, thank God. But now, at 18 years old as she heads out the door for dates with her boyfriend, I am always tempted to throw out a word of warning, "Be careful how you show your appreciation!"

I kept that note with me for years. I'm sure it's around here somewhere and one of these days when I am packing to move... I will stumble upon that note and remember how innocent she was, how much she's grown, and how handbook or not both of my kids have turned out pretty damn great.

Woman Addresses an Age Old Question With Affirmative Answer

Monday July 25, 2011 - Sioux Falls, SD

While standing outside during a brief office respite, a local woman answered the age old question, "Is it hot enough for ya?" with an affirmative answer.

"Yes." she responded. "Yes, it's hot enough for me. Tomorrow is going to be hotter than today."

We were able to corroborate her statement through use of technology known simply as "The Internet".

It appears we have another week of warm temperatures in store for us during this season we lovingly refer to in the Midwest as "thank God it's not snowing". Those who are shocked by this weather phenomenon may want to brace themselves because it will happen again next year. Those same people would also be wise to take note of the following; It is going to be so cold in a couple of months that you will probably cry and question your sanity for having selected such a harsh environment to put down roots. It's happened every single year since at least 1816 and to be honest, I'm more shocked at the amount of people who are surprised by this than I am at temperatures in the upper 80s to lower 100s.

With Monday more than half over, I am getting pretty excited for the reunion this weekend! Hot or not, it will be fantastic to see my family! I have even picked up a few special presents for the nieces and nephews! For the girls I put special thought into how best torture my younger sister without risking the inevitable beat down that comes with making jokes about mustaches. This year I decided to buy each of the girls a nice bottle of perfume. I think that should provide hours of eye-burning enjoyment for the whole family on the 17 hour drive back to Ohio! Five girls, 5 different perfumes, it's not a physical beat down, but it's an olfactory assault extraordinaire! She's going to LOVE ME!

Now that I think about it, I should return the t-shirts I bought the boys and get each a big can of Axe body spray... hmmm.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Weekend Review and Lessons Learned

Before I jump right into today's buffet of blog, I hope that everyone can take a moment to say a little prayer to whatever God you pray to to help ease the pain and suffering of those who lost loved ones in Norway on Friday. I've been assured that my extended family still in Norway are all safe, sound, and coping.
______________________________________

The weekend here at the Whatevermylastnameis hacienda has been a Hodge podge of everything a person would want in a weekend. From the time I stepped off the treadmill Friday evening until this very moment I have been on the edge of my seat, waiting for the next bit of wild and reckless wonderment. Did I oversell it? Thought so. Okay it wasn't all exciting, calling back to the memories of my misspent youth or anything, but I did have SOME fun.

Friday evening, my daughter and her boyfriend interrupted naked time. Naked time isn't always naked, but it is one of the rare times I have the house to myself and I can prance around in my underwear without having to explain why I am prancing. "Mom? What are you doing? Why are you moving that way?" she might ask. I would have to answer, "I'm prancing, not like it's any of your business!"

I stepped into the dining room, expecting to be alone. No dice. Back up the stairs I go to put on something less underwear like. 

"What are your plans tonight, Mom? Zach and I have dinner plans... " says the lovely Princess Ponysparkles. 
"You kids have fun. I am planning to drink myself to my happy place." I said with a big smile. 

Obviously my drinking pleases the girl child, because she got a big grin on her face and proceeded to recount for her man an incident that made her childhood memories a little more technicolor. 

"Do you remember the night when I was reading horoscopes and I read yours and you said it was off and that you were probably an Ophiuchus, then you and Jacob kept repeating it and fist bumping each other and high-fiving for like 20 minutes?" she recalled. 

"Well yeah, but that was pretty funny. Besides it wasn't like I was alone. Jacob was doing it too." I replied... like a child myself, shifting a little of the blame onto someone who wasn't home to defend himself.

"Uh huh. What about the time you made me hold you because you were cold and your... " and I cut her off and said...

"Yeah, well what about the time you came home drunk 4 hours before curfew? Remember that? I asked you why you smelled like smoke and you said, 'My friends were smoking.' so I asked why your breath smelled like alcohol and you said, 'They were drinking too.' and it was only 8 PM. Who does that?" I said. 

"You, that year you quit drinking for months then decided to whoop it up on Halloween and passed out on the phone to France after 2 drinks." she blurted and started laughing. 

Point Alex. 

The kids left and I made myself a nice tasty cocktail. I moved my happy ass to the patio and set up my evening of solo debauchery. Much thanks, by the way, to my out of town friend for letting me gab on the phone FOREVER and only telling me once, "you said that already."  Also a shout out to my girl Shannon for making her way to my house late Friday night when she received the following phone call: 

Me: What are you doing? 
Shannon: Driving back from Walmart. 
Me: Meet me on the corner. I'll bring vodka. You bring a mixer. I'm out of mixers.
Shannon: Which corner? 
Me: Any corner. Who cares. We'll just sit on it. (this actually seemed like an okay idea after 2 slices of lunch meat, 3 crackers, and 3 big home style cocktails)
Shannon: Okay.
Me (text): Where are you?
Shannon (text): On your front steps.

And since every story should have a moral or we should take something positive away from every experience... I take the following. 

1. If I've said it once, I've said it 1000 times. You need more than lunch meat and crackers if you plan to really drink properly. 
2. My friends are great for not allowing me to drink alone. 
3. I sit down too hard when I've been drinking and apparently concrete steps are unkind to my ass because I have two bruises on my behind now from thinking it's okay to just plop down and get my gab on. 
4. My boyshort underwear cover more than a bikini bottom and while it might be tempting to go out and prance in the yard in them.. it still feels like underwear so I won't do that. 

So kids, what did you do this weekend and what did you learn in the process? 




Friday, July 22, 2011

That's What She Said- An Office Game For Everyone

Aside from blogging, there are a few other things I do during the day when I am supposed to be hawking solutions and whatnot to poor unsuspecting people. One of the biggest parts of my day is playing the "That's What She Said" game with my co-workers. This game is played by reading sexual innuendo into pretty much everything we overhear. It doesn't have to be spoken to count as a score. Many times it's just indicated by a face like this:
Don't be a bitch.  It's Friday. I didn't do my hair. More on this later. 


There are two of us here that are particularly good at this game, or particularly bad at being able to control our giggling. I'd like to believe it's a combination of the two. It's probably just something that is wrong with my mind (Thank God the girl child was accepted to college and into the Psych program), but when I hear someone say, "Personally? I just give it a flick of the wrist and the wipe the end off with a paper towel." I immediately make the above face. I am almost always guaranteed a "That's what she said" mumbled from the other side of the office. 
I say it because it's true. 
Yet one more reason I come to work on days when I would almost rather do anything else. You see you have to know when to "pull out" and put the innocent face back on. It's also helpful if you can encourage someone else to cross the line and then put on a look of... "Oh my God. You really went there? What is WRONG with YOU!?" 

There will be people you cannot play the game with. These are the people who take the word 'innuendo' and reply with, "In my what?". Yeah... that was funny the first time. After that you're obviously one of those folks that will Thelma and Louise the conversation. While the rest of us are enjoying a pleasantly off-color conversation, this is the person who takes the wheel and drives it over the cliff, dropping hot and fast to the ravine floor below. Let's call this person Brian. 

Brian doesn't read this blog so it's okay that I called him out right? No? Alright, let's call him Bryan then. I'm too lazy to come up with anything else. 

So about that picture up there... it's Friday. I got up this morning and did my Friday facial, threw on some casual cargo capris with room enough in the leg for 2 of me, a tank top, and the biggest shirt I could find.No makeup, hair in a ponytail (no product ... because fuck that, that's why). No one is coming to work to see me so what do I care, right? Wrong. I strolled in noisily with my Doc Marten flip flops clop clop clopping my arrival. 

I looked at Sarah, who had her hair done all pretty, nice jeans, and a cute top then remembered some of us have a meeting today with a vendor. One of the some of us is me. FAIL. So I did the only thing I could do. When I walked into the meeting with my two co-workers in dress pants, shirts, and ties, I shook the hand of the vendor, and said, "I'm sorry it looks like some of us didn't think we were coming to work at all today."




Thursday, July 21, 2011

Because Grandma Loves You That's Why

The time of the annual family reunion is drawing near. Some people will arrive at the parent's house as early as tomorrow, my son will join them on Saturday when they kick off the big event. With 25+ people sharing living space how can it possibly go awry? Don't worry, there will be adult beverages! 

Of course some of us see each other at various holidays. A cousin here, an aunt there, uncles between fishing trips, and Grandma of course. As awkward as it gets at times, events with my grandmother are always a bit of an eye opener. Grandma still lives in the small town most of us grew up in/around. If there's gossip to be had, she knows it... well if you're into the goings on of the local 65+ crowd (or it's about you). 

It's always a bit of a shock, whether you know them or not, to find out that a local widow in her 70's has shacked up with a local widower also in his 70's. The woman is sharp though. If you were near town, parked at the local gas station, seen with a young man, or anything of the sort... she knows about it. Someone from her church group saw you, Linette! If you think it's not going to come up next time you see her, you're sadly mistaken. Okay... I told her. She was on my ass about getting married and I needed to throw someone under the bus and I panicked. 

All that aside, I've always been able to count on her for honesty, whether I wanted it or not. I recall a time in high school when I was trying on a dress for an upcoming school event. As I stepped out of the dressing room and scrutinized my reflection in the mirror, dear old Gran said, "Oh, Angie not that one. The pattern just makes you look even bigger!" I took my stung feelings, went back in the little closet, wisely discarded the dress, and looked for something less ass-widening. 

It isn't that she wanted to be cruel. She's just made that way. Okay, not really. She was being helpful. She just doesn't always word things in a way that make you feel, well... helped? There are of course times when she's glowing proud and she can't help but tell the world how excited she is about her grand children's accomplishments. When grandma's are proud, they don't care who they tell. They don't care who hears them. They don't care if that person knows their grandchild. They just say it. Now, combine that loving emotion just bubbling to the surface with hearing loss and you've got yourself a very loud proclamation. God save you. 

Thanksgiving 2009- Fort Dodge, Iowa
Approximately 1:15 PM 

I walked into my aunt and uncle's home to join my extended family for a tasty turkey dinner. I hadn't seen some of them for many months, including Grandma. Added to the mix were various members of my uncles family. While I don't know many of them, I greet my cousin and parents and the rest of the lot and sat my offerings on the counter. Sitting at the corner table I spot Grandma chatting away with another woman in her "golden years". I smiled a polite hello and continued to talk with my aunt. 

Quite loudly from the corner table I heard:
"SHE USED TO BE TERRIBLY HEAVY." 
"WHO? WHO USED TO BE TERRIBLY HEAVY, ZONA?"
"ANGIE. SHE USED TO BE TERRIBLY HEAVY!"
"OH"

At that point I wasn't sure if I was going to laugh or cry. I excused myself from the room and stepped outside where I found my cousin (the one I threw under the bus months before... still sorry) sitting on the front porch. "Why did she have to say that?!" I asked. I proceeded to replay the scene for her, with a slightly lower tone than that which was used inside. That's when she made me smile, "She doesn't think it's an insult. The old one is just lucky we've already got the headstone." 

I made my way back to the chaos, hugged the little elf woman, and properly introduced myself to the other "grandma"... and somehow managed not to say, "You might not remember me from my childhood. I used to be terribly heavy." Though it did cross my mind. 

My goal for the future, is to live long enough to be able to speak at the top of my voice, saying exactly what I mean to say, without caring how it sounds to anyone else, and having lived life with enough love and kindness that my own grandchildren will smile and be thankful that they've already bought my headstone.

Dirt Poor But Influential- How I survived lottery loss let down

When I realized this morning that I hadn't won the lottery I was crushed. I put on a brave face and paid for my Diet Dew and walked to my car, my spirits sagging like the breasts of an 80 year old woman. My letter of resignation, once folded neatly in my purse, now nothing more than tattered confetti pieces on the floor of my car, thrown down without care like a Bit-O-Honey wrapper on a long empty parade route.

So, bitches. I didn't win. I am not a multi-millionaire. I am not a thousandaire. Dammit I'm not even a hundredaire. You know what I am though? Influential. You probably didn't know this, but sometime yesterday I became influential about Food, Drinks, Moms, and a variety of other obscure things. The Canucks might want to stay on my good side. Yesterday I had no influence on anything, but I woke up today and I HAVE THE POWER! Mmmm hmmm.

I am not sure how my level of influence is gauged. I don't really want to know. I just want people to do what I tell them when I tell them to do it!!! In my quest to become even more powerful and possibly even make a bid for the presidency of my neighborhood watch group, I am going to try choosing a new topic to become influential about each week. So today is Thursday and I'll give myself until the 28th of July to become at least a little influential about Vacation Property in Panama (No, Jeana... not Panama, Iowa).

Once I get this little game figured out there are a few other things I would like to be influential about, such as:

1. How teenagers view the importance of cleanliness in their bedrooms - Seriously, I am about to throw your crap out. There's a funky smell coming from your room and I am scared of it. What if it destroys the hardwood? Are you smoking pot in there? Are you going to share? Then knock it off!


2. How teenagers view the importance of doing the damn dishes - I gave you life, pay the bills, provide you food, and all sorts of things. Try washing the damn dishes. Graduating high school was not your "get out of chores free" card. Speaking of... I think I saw a plate grow legs and try to escape your room the other day. Even they don't wanna be in there.


3. How teenage daughters view the wisdom of asking their mothers, "Do you have PMS or something?" - Did you REALLY just say that to me? No, I don't have PMS. I have a teenagers. I have frustration. I have the urge to chase you screaming from the house with a big ass bat. I do not have PMS.


4. How the rest of the world views property value in my "hood" - I have to put this place on the market soon so I can get the hell out of here, preferably before I have to evict my own child and call in haz-mat teams to clear her room.


5. Bringing back the Boticelli look - Seems like it was a good look for a whole age of people. I'd be happier, and when I am happier YOU are happier.

What do YOU want to influence?

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Blog Most Likely To... Click IT or Ticket

I think I might have stolen that "click it or ticket" thing. Regardless, take a moment to go to the Blogs Most Likely To page and check out two of my favorite bloggers this week. Both bloggers do a fantastic job of keeping my attention and making me check back every day to see what they've written and replied about. Besides all that, when you don't click on that page kittens die. Do you really wanna be the sort of person who caused a kitten to suffer? I didn't think so. Don't be a bitch. Click it.

Humpless Hump Day

Well, once again it's Hump Day and I'm all humpless. Frankly, I'm a little bitter about the whole thing. Give me five minutes and I'll get over it.
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Okay, over it.
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I don't need friends. The fact that it's the truth doesn't change the fact that I absofreakinlutely love the ones I have. I'll probably even make some more, just because. I mean just because I don't need chocolate cake doesn't mean I won't ever bake one or eat some. Not that I would eat my friends, that would be wrong. Plus, I don't know where all my friends have been. However, I could be swayed if they were covered in chocolate frosting.


Today I received a text from a friend asking me to coffee this afternoon. I accepted, and was delighted when I received a reply that said, "READ- Do you want vodka flavored coffee?" Why, yes. Yes, I do indeed want my coffee flavored with vodka. I fully intend to make it a special order. One Grande Cafe Mocha Vodka Valium Latte, please. You know what... it will be happy hour so make that a double and call me a cab. (See Miss Sassy Pants? It's okay... ) That isn't really the point of today's little blog-o-rama. I just noticed that I accidentally made Sassy talk NOT ABOUT ALCOHOL, and I didn't want to be that sort of person.


Now that I got that out of the way, let's talk a little bit about my horoscope. Apparently, "this is a really good time of the month to get noticed, so get out there and take charge. Things will generally get busier, and you should reserve extra time on your schedule for unanticipated appointments or prolonged, profitable personal engagements. The spotlight turns up, and you're on stage and need to PERFORM!"


I sort of feel like kicking myself for the stripper post yesterday. I'm also wishing I'd read that before we picked a destination for drinks. Then I could have chosen some place without a stage, dance floor, and booze. Now I need to go home and put on some kick ass light up mega heel platforms and a g-string. I was really hoping for a more relaxed cocktail experience, but it would seem a performance is due on my part. If I don't make it back, I want you all to go ahead and assume that my performance was stellar (and I worked my way through paying my student loans). 


There is also a good chance that tomorrow I will be too rich to blog. I bought two Powerball tickets today WITH Powerplay. I am not sure what that Powerplay is because I just said "okay" when the lady asked if I wanted it. When I got to work I found that I can't even look it up because gambling sites are blocked here. So there's that. 


To recap: 
1. I would eat my friends if they covered themselves in chocolate frosting
2. I want Sassy to feel okay about being like me even if I am not okay being like me
3. It's my day bitches
4. Love the hell out of me today because tomorrow I might have money and you might want some of this... I mean that... I mean... 


Ciao! 

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Today I learned why strippers move like they do...

Guy- Dusk Til Dawn is on. This is why men like strippers. Because they dance just to be sensual.

Me- They dance for the money.

Guy- Doesn't matter, its just a way they move that "normal" women don't.

Me- They move that way because it's how they make money. I bet they don't move that way washing dishes.

Guy- It's part of who they are. It's just how they move. It's natural.

Me- You know a lot of strippers in real life huh? Because you sure know a lot about them. Go to their houses a lot to see them do dishes, do ya? It's like when you talk about "normal" vaginal health and you don't have a vagina.

Guy- Strippers use paper plates.

Me- They still dance for money.

I had to give it to him. I couldn't even rebuttal. I would have spun it around and said, "Well sure... but what about you not having a vagina!?" but it would have just seemed like I was picking a fight and starting a new direction. Sarah was kind enough to show me how a stripper would do the dishes... not that she is one, but she did a damn fine job out there. I will say this... if you go to Sarah's house for dinner, make sure you stay to watch her wash up!

Let's talk about stripping, shall we? Listen, I don't have a problem with strippers. They do what they do and I do what I do. I have a problem if THEY are doing what I do, but that wouldn't be their fault really. I can't imagine a guy picking up a stripper when she's done with her shift and saying, "I am sure you know I'm married/taken/spoken for ..." Fairly certain on this end that if your man steps out on you with a stripper, he is the one to point the finger at.

I've read blog posts, articles, etc. that about how the stripping profession degrades women. When I was a teen I saw one of those afternoon talk shows where a Dr. was discussing how horrible this particular job is for a woman's self-esteem and how horrible an environment it must be to have men taking advantage of you all day.

WHAT?! I won't even pretend to agree with that. If she was forced into the job due to sex trafficking, fine. She gets a pass on this. However,if she went down to the Diamond Girl Gentleman's Club and slipped into her best shimmery g-string and stilettos, she is not being degraded. She could have waited tables. She could have worked the drive thru window at McDonald's. She's performing entertainment and making pretty decent money doing it, if I am to believe this "working my way through law school" stuff.

My ex husband enjoyed going to the strip club. When one of the guys got married, they would make the trip 30 minutes north and spend the evening in nudie girl Heaven. About a week after one of these trips, my best friend (just married) said to me, "I am so pissed at (husband)! Did your husband tell you about their trip to the strippers?!"

I answered in the affirmative. I didn't have a problem with him going. "Did he tell you what they DID there?" she asked. "They were touching the girls. At first (husband) said they just touched her legs, but then I told him I knew more happened, and then he admitted they touched her ass. He's too stupid to know how to lie right. Finally he admitted they touched her boobs too!".

This was a bit of a shock to me. I thought there were rules. We even went as far as to call a local club and get verification from the owner that it is in fact "dancer's discretion". I felt it only right that I should confront my husband when he returned home (from somewhere... probably a strip club). He denied it initially, then realizing his friend was "too stupid to know how to lie right", came clean.

"Strippers are like a fantasy. It's not like it's real." he said.

"It's not wrestling. It's real. And are you saying you FANTASIZE about having to pay a woman to take her clothes off for you? That's pretty pathetic. If you want to pay someone to get naked. Pay me. I will even let you pay me for sex. Leave some money on the dresser when you go to work." I replied.

I would have been completely fine with the whole situation had he had the decency to say, "I like boobs. I even like stripper boobs better than your boobs. Yes, I touched them."

Fair enough. Thanks for the talk!

Monday, July 18, 2011

Office Rules - Bonding Through Shared Gluttony

Years ago I worked in a customer service department for a large local company. Unsurprisingly, the boss, supervisor, and all of the staff were female. The work was mind-numbing but the camaraderie was second to none. You've probably heard the horror stories about working with women. There is a cure for the insanity. It's called Pot Luck. 

Maybe you've never worked in an office, but I think it would be hard to find a person who has not attended a similar event. Everyone brings something. Everyone eats. That's how it's supposed to be, but more on that in a bit. The difference between an office pot luck and the pot luck you have with your extended family is that the office pot luck is known for hors d'oeuvres. 

Save your elaborate dishes for someone who will appreciate it. Office potluck is all about the following things: Cream cheese, sour cream, mayonnaise, creative dips, processed meats, and fattening sweet baked goods. This is why it tames the savage beasts called female office workers. I can't give you scientific data to back this up so just take it with a grain of salt (ooooh don't forget...salty snacks like chips), but I bet 90% of our pot lucks occurred when most of us had PMS. Suffice it to say this is usually a day to end all days. 

The event usually begins at 10:30. This is a full hour before the earliest lunch. It doesn't matter and no one questions it. No one has to leave the office to go to lunch and the wise worker never plans a lunch hour appointment for pot luck day. The menu will probably look something like this: 

1. Pickle rolls - small gherkin dill pickles wrapped in cream cheese and dried beef

2. Pin wheels - flour tortillas smeared with cream cheese, cheddar cheese, black olives, etc. then rolled and cut into 1/2 inch thick wheels

3. Taco dip - a layered dish consisting of taco meat, refried beans, sour cream, lettuce, tomato, salsa, etc. and eaten with tortilla chips 

4. Queso - Rotel, taco meat, and Velveeta melted and kept hot then eaten with tortilla chips

5. Sloppy Joe - Around these parts they call them bar-b-q's. Some folks call them made-rites. You might see them and think Manwhich. Whatever you call it, it's ground beef and a tomato-ish sauce served on cheap enriched white bread hamburger buns.

6. Pasta salad - It's cold pasta. It probably has minor amounts of vegetables. It is bound together by mayo or possibly Italian dressing. 

7. Fruit salad - A local favorite is something called Snickers Salad. It has chopped up Snickers bars, whipped topping, and apples. Apple salad can also be offered... it contains mayonnaise so it doesn't count as healthy. 

8. Brownies - If you want to be very well liked your brownie should include either caramel or chocolate icing. Just sayin'.

9. Cookies - This covered a broad category. Do not bring cookies unless you're really good at making them. We talk about bad food. Don't be the topic of break time conversation. Perfect your art before showing it at the pot luck. 

10. Relish tray - You were worried that this might be all junk food. You should be... this is a pot luck standard consisting of carrot sticks, celery sticks, various olives (stuffed with cheeses are good), radishes, peppers, etc. Bring some damn ranch dip. We aren't here for our health. 

11. Meat and cheese tray - If your man killed it and had it made into Summer Sausage... bring it on. While you're at it bring a variety of sliced cheeses and crackers. Get the Ritz, don't be an ass with the Saltines. 

This buffet of belly busting goodness will continue until about 2:30 PM, or until someone wises up and says, "Do you think we should put this refrigerated stuff away before it goes bad?" at which point everyone will load up one more time or die of a coronary incident. 

If you don't contribute, you shouldn't eat until the rest of us have glutted ourselves and look glassy eyed. Everyone forgets something from time to time. You're usually given one free pass. You can offer to bring the paper plates ($1 for 50 for the love!). Bring some 2 liter bottles of soda. It doesn't have to be expensive if you're strapped for cash. Just participate! 

These are just general guidelines. There will be other dishes obviously, but if you're ever stuck for what to bring, I don't think I've ever seen any of the above items going home with the person who brought them. If you are new to a department and you find yourself at a loss for a way to break the ice, try suggesting a pot luck. Gluttony brings people closer. 

What We're Looking For: A Mind Blowing List of Criteria Part 2 of 2

You've heard it before. Women are looking for one man to fulfill their every need; Men want every woman to fulfill their one need. It makes for a funny little joke, but it's about as far from reality (at least in my world) as it gets. What is it that makes men think that women have this huge list of needs to be met?

Maybe being on my own for such a long period of time has changed the way I look at things, but I know a lot of women who have been married many years that would probably back me up on this. Things have certainly evened out over the past few decades. Personally, I don't want a man to fulfill my every need. Do you know why? Because aside from that pesky sex thing, most of my needs aren't man related.

1. I love to get massages, go to the spa, take a bubble bath surrounded by scented candles, and all that fun stuff. This is going to come as a shock, but I have known how to run my own bath water for a very long time. I don't need a man for that.

True Story- A boyfriend once took me to a very nice hotel for a long weekend get away. It was incredibly relaxing and after a particularly long day of hiking, he treated me to a hot bath with candles. As a surprise, he came in to scrub my back and rinse my hair. It was awkward because I have never had someone wash my hair except at the salon, but it was sweet that he wanted to pamper me. He took my hand and helped me out of the bath, wrapped me in a kick ass robe, and led me by the hand back into the room for a "surprise".

There was a moment of awe and then a moment of panic as we rushed around the room blowing out the 20+ votive candles he had places all over the room to create ambiance. It was an incredibly sweet idea and had he placed the votive candles into little cups or on little plates, we wouldn't have spent the next 2 hours removing red wax from the furniture and carpets of the room. It was still a great weekend... but the smell of that sweet cheap apples and cinnamon wax will stay with me forever.

2. When I am sick, I want to be left alone to sleep off whatever bit of nastiness has dared to enter my being.

3. I have a job. Over the years I've learned how to buckle down when I didn't have enough money for all the things I wanted. I've learned to appreciate small things in life. I don't need your money. That being said, I don't feel the need to financially support you either. I don't have any sort of complex that causes me to feel an overwhelming desire to pay bills that aren't mine.

4. You don't need to listen to my girl talk. I have girlfriends that do this and do it very well. I don't want to hear, "I don't know why you talk to that bitch." I don't know why you talk to your buddy ____ either. Let's just leave that alone shall we?

5. There will be very few times that I will need you to shop with me. If you want to go, fine. I am not going to spend 3 hours in one store looking for the perfect anything. I will ask though that if you hate shopping, just stay home. It frustrates me enough without you sighing and asking me if I am done. Most malls have bars now. Feel free to go watch the game and have a beer. Find a bar with a better TV than you have at home. Eat junk food. Knock yourself out!

So what do I need from you? It's pretty simple really....


1. Humor - You don't need to tell me jokes. Be able to tease me, laugh with me, be teased, etc. Dry humor and quick wit is desired.

2. Passion - If I wanted to be a perfunctory lay I would become a hooker and make a little money on the deal and then you couldn't afford me! Sad! :(


3. Love - If it's going to work, you might need to love me. Maybe you don't think it's required, but it sure as hell makes things a lot easier because sometimes I am not very likable.

4. Understanding - This one might seem tricky. Hell I don't UNDERSTAND me. This might be where that "sure, I'm paying attention" nod comes in handy. I am emotional a couple of days a month. Get over it. These might be good days for you to go fishing, biking, camping, drinking, or diamond buying.

5. Fidelity - How about we don't have sex with other people? Let's be real here... I think you're sexy, but I love you (maybe). First and foremost, please don't hit on my sisters or my friends. You end up looking like a douche and I end up having to hate you. If you feel the need to dip your wick in another person's wax, do me the courtesy of packing your belongings before you go. It takes a lot of energy for me to go around the house and collect all of a person's belongings for the burn bin. I love efficiency.

Am I missing something?

Sunday, July 17, 2011

What We're Looking For: Don't Be The Inside of the Card Part 1 of 2

I received a birthday card a few years back with a really sexy guy on the front. Since I don't have the card, I'll just use my magic Internet skills to give you a reasonable representation of what he looked like.


Beneath his picture it said 'What we're looking for'. Knowing who the card was from I expected the words on the inside to be nothing short of hysterically funny. I smiled and opened the card.
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INSTEAD I GOT REVULSION. 

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The picture on the inside looked much like this except greasier (if that's possible) and dressed worse (again, is that possible)... some of you know him.. 

After the nausea passed and my eyes stopped watering and I felt certain I wouldn't wretch, I read the words beneath his picture. 'What's looking for us...' She delivered. Karen Walker's words spring to mind... "It's funny because it's true." Well, sort of. I've never been attracted to men who look like first guy, and I've been hit on by some real skeazy guys in the past, but thankfully nothing as bad as guy #2. 

The problem with finding someone who ticks the "what we're looking for" boxes is that in order for them to tick the most important one... you also have to tick theirs. No one wants to be the inside of the card right?

Stay tuned for Part Two of What We're Looking For where we discover how extensive my list is. 

I just checked the forecast and I'm considering faking some sort of short term illness that prevents me from leaving the house until Wednesday. Temporary insanity? Blue Ovaries? I'm open to suggestions! Whatcha got? 








Morning Music

1. The Black Keys- Your Touch

"So how do you feel about being dead?"
"I dunno. My neck hurts. You didn't look that cool out there."
"Well, at least I died doing something love, ya know? Ya know... Lip syncing. I love that shit."

2. Finger Eleven - Paralyzer

3. Head East - Never Been Any Reason

4. Mumford and Sons - Little Lion Man

5. Panic At The Disco - Nine In the Afternoon

6. Paolo Nutini - Loving You 

7. Saving Jane - Girl Next Door

8. Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition

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Favorite Post Secret of the Week
How true! 

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Making Malls Better - How Not To Piss Me Off

In an attempt to avoid the 90+ degree 150% humidity weather at Jazz Fest, I spent the day in the cool comfort of the mall. It's simply amazing, given the state of the economy, that the stores were still bustling with idiots. My objective was simple; I needed to find something to wear for family pictures. After an unsuccessful attempt at locating what I wanted in a local department store, I headed back to the mall to seek and destroy. This is where I get a little bit bitchy, so follow along and imagine this face speaking to you...
Get out of my way. Seriously. Then get out of my  mall. 
1. I realize some of you consider a day at the mall to be a family event. Perhaps you have small children with you, a relative in town, three of your sisters decided to join you for girls day, etc., and I applaud your desire to spend time with these people. Good for you. Family is important. I would like to politely request though that when you do this... you learn to walk no more than 2 people shoulder to shoulder. In the name of all that is good and holy... do NOT walk side by side in a chain of 6 + people. What in the hell are you looking for? An opposing team to play freaking Red Rover Red Rover? NO ONE'S COMING OVER! Ya know why? Because they can't break through your iron curtain of strollers, bags, and stupidity. BREAK IT UP... If I have to walk at your snail's pace there's a damn good chance I'm going to be spotted by...

2. The kiosk people at either the Dead Sea scrub place or the dude who always wants to show me how nice my hair would look if I properly flat ironed it. No thanks man, I don't need to see how much dead skin you can scrub off my hands. I don't want to buy your snake oil potions. I also don't want you touching my hair with your cootie-infested implement of hair destruction. More than that.... my hair is naturally curly and the idea of you straightening half my damn head doesn't seem like the fashion statement I'm looking to make. No, I'd really like to just make my way past without you touching me or attempting to negotiate my willingness to stop and check out your wares. The same goes for you Mr. Gold Chain seller. I'm not your babe, sweetie, sweet thang, or anything of the sort. There's a reason I don't have a big fat gold chain on right now. The reason is that it looks ridiculous. Following me while talking to my back will not further your cause. Go back to your cubicle of fortune. I have to get to the Buckle.

3. While I realize that many of the mall stores have commission based sales staff, I would appreciate it if you lovely folks used a bit of common sense when bringing me clothes to try on. If I have taken 3 pairs of jeans to the changing room and there are two pair of size 9s and one pair of 11s, please do not insult me by saying, "I've got a couple pairs you should try on." then handing me size 5s. Either you are incapable of reading the tags of the ones I passed out to you, or you really feel that I am simple enough that I will be so excited that you THOUGHT I looked like a size 5 that I will buy whatever you have to sell. Let's make a deal mmmkay? I will not insult your intelligence by assuming that you're incapable of understanding numbers if you stop believing flattery will get you everywhere. If we are going to continue to play this game, one of these days I'm going to put on those 5s and die of suffocation in your little slotted door changing closet. Try explaining THAT to your boss. 

4. And of course, no trip to any store would be complete without at least 5 separate incidents of parents who refuse to maintain control of their children. If your child is screaming, do the rest of the world a favor and take the little darling home for a nap. My kids misbehaved from time to time when they were little. The difference between you and myself is the following; I didn't let my children interfere with other people's time in public places. I made sure they knew the rules before we entered an establishment. If they refused to comply, we went home. Yes, I understand it's inconvenient for you, but if you recall... that's sort of how this whole parenting gig works. You could also kindly keep your kid from bolting out from under the clothes racks and peeking under my changing room door, thanks! And one more thing... when you don't handle it at a young age, you end up with those insufferable teenagers who back talk their parents. I don't make it a habit to physically harm people... but this makes me want to spank you both. Take heed... that little monster you aren't controlling now will turn into that big monster I overheard today telling her mother, "You're a b*tch. I hate you!" 

I believe these little tips and tricks will make my shopping experience much more pleasurable. By the time I was finished today, I wanted nothing more than to comfort myself with a big fat cinnamon roll, a thick slice of pizza, and an Orange Julius. I totally would have too if those places weren't so close to the crazy folks from #2. I think I'll just order a t-shirt from Mommy Wants Vodka for pictures... nothing says family picture like a shirt that says "Shut Your Whore Mouth" right?! :D


Friday, July 15, 2011

Just An Average Friday Where I'm Asked To Draw Celebrity Peen

Everyone has those days when they wake up and life just seems to go downhill from there. Today is NOT one of those days for me. Sometimes you just KNOW it's going to be a good. For instance, it's FRIDAY! You know what that means? It means that I get to stay up late tonight. It means I get to sleep in tomorrow. I will have completed all required tasks by 8 PM tonight and tomorrow I'm going to catch up on some long neglected items on my To Do list.

-Fill sprayer with Round Up mixture and kill weeds inadvertently annihilate all forms of life in my yard
-Become Fashion Model Victim
-Write best selling dirty limerick
-Attract/Date/Marry a millionaire
-Establish trade relations between the US and Kiribati

But that is NOT why today is a good day, kids. No, the number one indication that today was going to be awesome was when I checked out Gorilla Banana's comments over at the japing ape, in which he asked me to sketch Quentin Tarentino's penis based solely on the description of a fame whore. I would like to state for the record that I've not drawn a penis in perhaps 28 years? Not since I was in grade school I'm sure. Some days it seems like it's been almost that long since I've SEEN a penis.

Regardless, I realize some of you might just think that I'm being pervy when in reality I am just flattered that someone has asked me to entertain them through one of the finer arts. So here I sit at the office, doing my regular work, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching, talking to my mom on the phone (sorry Mom) and sketching. In a moment... I will sneak off to the ladies room with my camera phone and my art work and capture the QT Essence that I have created.

One Moment please...




So there you have it. Not bad in my opinion! By the way, I gave him moles or warts or something because I was just told that 95% of the population over the age of 18 is infected with some STD or another. That # might be wrong, or that could just be office talk.

Weekly Words Of Wisdom From Dove

To say that I've felt rather uninspired this week would be more than a bit of an understatement. Yesterday I sat down with Dove Chocolate to get a big of guidance. So without further ado, a word from our sponsor: 

Dove Chocolate would like you to make time for yourself. If we've learned anything from Dove in the past weeks, it's that life is about you. After I devoured this bit of knowledge, I decided to grab another piece of delightful chocolately goodness and head back to my desk. "I will make time for myself tomorrow. I've got stuff to do today." I thought as I peeled the wrapper back on a second tasty treat. 

Alright... I get it already!!


Thursday, July 14, 2011

For David Because It Makes Him Sad When It's Not About Him

The moment David saw the post about Sue's birthday, his muscles tensed and he could feel the prickly anger creeping up his spine. "A BLOG POST!? ABOUT SOMEONE OTHER THAN ME?" he silently screamed. "Does this woman know who I am? Does she know who my brother is? This will not end well for her. I know people. I used to work on the docks! I am bad ass!"

"I smoke cigarettes b*tch!?" He looked at his picture and before sending the threatening email to Angie Whatevermylastname decided to use something that really made his point for him. He selected something more apropos to the theme. 

"This will do it." he thought. 


David leaned back in his chair and thought back to happier times. How could he have gone from mild mannered-Flock of Seagulls-loving good guy to this man he had become? 



"Well it's really her fault. She should know by now that the internet is all about me." He said out loud... even shocking himself. 

Fill Your Hole- Things I Want

While it's no where near my birthday, I feel it's important to let everyone know that there are things I have to have in order to feel like my life is complete. No, I'm not talking about love. You can't buy that, and today is all about things I should have to fill the void in my chest where my heart should go. Or that hole in my soul. Or that... Right okay. Let's get to it.

I ABSOLUTELY NEED

1. Slide Board- This shouldn't need any explanation, but I'm going to give you one anyway. AWESOME! I am not on friendly terms with my hips, ass, and thighs. I think this piece of spectacularity could help me learn to love them. They used to make something similar to this back in the day, but I'm too lazy to go find that picture because my initial search of 'slidey exercise thing from like 1987' didn't give me the results I wanted. It did however, show me a penis. Always nice to have that "pop up" on the screen at work, yeah?
Have you ever seen speed skater thighs?


2. Hair Feathers- I've been mocking these things for so long I am starting to wonder if I am mocking them for their ridiculousness or if I am just hiding a deep seeded need to own them and look fabulous. If I can't have these, I will settle for the sparkly ones that Adrienne Maloof wore all season on RHWoBH!
Feathery bitch
Sparkly bitch
3. Bitchin' Cruiser- I saw this over on So...what else? and it confirmed what I've been thinking for a couple of years now. Like I told Ms. Lindahl, I would straighten my hair so it blows back all pretty when I ride it. I would get some retro shorts to wear. I want a basket with a flower on it and yeah... I want the bell. This thing is so sweet I wouldn't even care that I looked like I was fresh out of a feminine hygiene commercial. Bike up Bitches! Let's ride!
All I can say is SWEET!!




4. Snoopy Snow Cone Maker- Back when I was a kid I got one of these as a get well present after some random childhood surgery (appendix?). It's going to be really feckin' hot this weekend and I think I deserve to have a little piece of my childhood to help me cope with the 98 degree-unfreakinreal-humidity days. Sure I'd be bored with it after a day, but I really really want it. Really.
A Snow cone for me, Snoopy? HELL YEAH I'll take one!

5. Personal Masseuse- After a long day of sitting on my ass blogging, I get a little tense in the shoulders. There are times when I feel so sorry for myself that I damn near cry. Those are the times when I say to myself, "Angie, you deserve a break. Someone should be touching you right now while you do absolutely nothing because you don't do quite enough of that already." In the event that David reads this... Yeah, this time the answer would be "With".
Oh yeah, right there. 

6. Baby Grows Up Doll- I'm not trying to be a bag here, but Christy? Are you there? Do you remember when you ruined my Christmas by throwing my one and only cool present and breaking off her leg? Do you? It still hurts. I actually blame some of my adult drinking on this very incident. You probably don't remember because you were like 2 or 3, but sometimes at night when my heart is heavy... I think of how glorious that doll looked right out of the box... and it makes me feel happy.
I can't type through the tears... okay I can. 


Oh there's more. A LOT MORE.
Easy Bake Oven- Because I have Jiffy cake mixes and nothing to do with them.
Ticket to Montreal- Mind your business.
Flying Car- Not one of those new lame ones with the fold out wings either. That sh*t just looks sketchy.
Vacation in Cyprus With All The Enhancements- I have a list of things I want done.

So tell me kids, what sort of material things do you use to suffocate the feelings of emptiness?

P.S. This is the Easy Bake Oven I had as a kid...





For Susie On Her Birthday

Today marks the birthday of a very dear friend of mine. Approximately 11 years ago, I met one of the most amazing women the planet has to offer. When I stumbled into Women and Men Ask Why, Sue was one of the first people to greet me and has been like a sister ever since. Here's why:

1. Her Smile: She's got a kick ass smile that lights up a room. This in combination with that sweet Scottish accent and her big doe eyes makes it possible for her to look straight at you and tell you to fuck right off and you would DO IT. You would do it and you would LIKE IT.

2. She Doesn't Hold a Grudge: When we went to Dallas a few years ago we decided to go with the group to Billy Bob's. As we wandered the gift shop we ended up getting separated. I spotted her on the other side of the store, taking the lid off of a container of body butter. Now, I know that they smell like food. They look like you could spread them on toast. The Shea ones are amazingly deceiving. So I assumed it would be best to warn her of their "not so tasty" flavor. I yelled, "DON'T EAT THAT!". People turned and stared. She still let me in the hotel room when we got back.

3. Hospitality Plus: When a group of us finally decided to actually meet up for vacation, she and our friend Lesley played host to this one chick from the United States who was a bit off center. They housed her, fed her, watered her, and introduced her to all sorts of amazing non-American things. (Maltezers, Lucozade, Cadbury Flake, Ripples, Stella Artois, Boots Shops, Matalan, Dunnes, etc.)

4. Knows How To Have Fun: Somewhere... there are pictures of Ms. Sue standing next to Ms. Lesley at a train station in Manchester. Both of these ladies are sporting the brand new sexy matching panties I brought for everyone (I wanted us to really feel like a group)... on the outside of their pants. Aside from this little incident, we've managed to take Vegas by storm and drink ourselves into a state of what I can only imagine was pure whorishness. Though we don't have a lot of memories from that evening... I bet you ANYTHING, she's the one who hung our new hooker dresses up in the closet when we made it back to our room. Plus... she's a total sex kitten... RAWR!
Who's a sex kitten? You's a sex kitten! Meow! 

5. Handier Than a Shirt Pocket: My lady friends will understand this. Sometimes you're wearing something and you don't know if you really should be. Is the skirt too short? Is your cleavage exceeding the standard rules that keep you right on the edge of appearing like a prostitute? Even all the damn way over there in Scotland... I can ask Sue to turn on IM and check me for fashion violations. Even things like, "Okay, I'm going to turn around and bend over now. Tell me if you see my panties."

6. Snuggle Skills: I won't say she's the first female I've shared a bed with, but she's damn sure the bed snuggler. You can take that any way you want. I don't care. Neither does she. We're okay with it.

This doesn't even begin to cover all the amazing things about Ms. Dinky Skye. She sends me packages in the mail under our old chat pseudonyms. She freaking bought my kids bikes y'all. BIKES! Because we were dirt poor and lost all of our belongings in a bad breakup and subsequent move. She allows me to cry. She listens when I bitch about the same things over and over and over. She's an amazing wife. She's a far better mother than I could ever hope to be. Most importantly... she's my friend even when I don't deserve one.

So Happy Birthday Susie! I love you more than you know.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Penis Removal Is Not Acceptable. Try this instead.

Before I get started with this I just want to put this out there. I think whomever the blonde chick superdy-duper profiler is on Criminal Minds (rerun) tonight is a sh*t actress. I swear to freaking God I just saw her "smize". If you are an alumni of the Tyra Banks school of acting, just go away.

Alright then, now that I got that out of my system let's move on to what's really on my mind. What is the deal with being so mad you'd cut off a man's penis? Hey, we've all been pissed off before. Nearly everyone I know, male and female, has been screwed over once, twice, three times or more. Mrs. Becker was so mad about the state of affairs that she actually drugged her husband, cut it off, threw it in the garbage disposal, turned it on, and then called 911.

Apparently this argument began over guests staying at the residence. Who in the hell was staying there? Lizzie Borden? Lorena Bobbit? For the love of God, who in the hell pissed someone off so much that they cut off someone's penis? This is really over done lady! Seriously, there are better more mentally torturous ways to screw over the person who pissed you off without going to jail! Let's help shall we?

1. Talk incessantly about the state of the relationship- This is my favorite because it's been done to me. It damn near drove me in-freaking-sane. ONE FULL YEAR of hearing nothing except how much you wonder where things are going and how you think things could improve if only... I almost cut off my own head. If I'd had a penis, I'd have been a homosexual, but aside from that I'd have wanted to cut off my own penis. You can't go to jail for making someone so dejected that they want to cut off their own penis.

2. Take a liking to whatever music the other person hates the most- I find this to be a special kind of torture. It's very possible that the other person's least favorite kind of music is also your nemesis. However the enemy of thy enemy is thy friend, n'est-ce pas? If Big Band music drives them absofreakinlutely crazy embrace it like a mofo. Play it at home, in the car, book special concert dates when possible that revolve around it, give them nothing but related items for gifts. For one ex, this would have been any song made after 1985. :) Works!

Do you have any other tips for driving your partner crazy (not in the rip off your clothes and take you kind of way)? Have you ever been in a relationship where the other person did something so grating that you were tempted to harm them? Do tell!

News at 11: Men want a woman who will bring them a beer, be happy, and put out.

In what came as a shocking revelation to many world wide, many women are still obsessed with their body image while their male counterparts are just happy to get a cold beer and sleep next to a warm body with breasts and who puts out once in awhile. 


"One night last week after dinner, I looked in on Brad in the living room playing Xbox360. He is the same guy I fell in love with. He says he's put on a few pounds, but I've got bigger things to worry about, like this saggy ass of mine and the way my arms jiggle when I wave. It's just gross." said Brad's wife Brenda, a 34 year old mother of 2 from Elkhart, IN. 


As I ended the call with Brenda, Brad was heard shouting from the living room, "Hey Sensuous, grab me a beer will ya? Get it? Sensuous.. Since-you-was Up." Brenda could be heard opening the refrigerator door as she said, "Well that's me. Sensuous.Yeah right. I'm fat. I'd better get off the phone. Brad gets crabby if he has to pause the game and I have a lot to do if I am going to make it to yoga before work in the morning." 


Steve and Carla from Lincoln, Nebraska have been married 8 years and have three boys ages 18 months, 3, and 6. We sat down to speak at a local picnic area so the kids could play. I asked if either of them had noticed any significant changes in their partner since they exchanged wedding vows. Carla was the first to chime in. "Steve used to be really into slow pitch softball. He's cut back to one league a year, so that has helped with the boys. That helps me a lot." she said. Steve was a bit more hesitant to speak. "Well, I mean she's had 3 kids." he responded as he smacked her on the bottom. "More to love." Carla turned and punched Steve in the arm then stormed off to the playground area. "I guess I said something wrong." Steve said. We ended the interview and I retreated to my car with the sneaking suspicion that Steve would not be having sex for awhile.  
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Yesterday I had the good fortune of talking with a girlfriend I see far too seldom. As expected, we covered all the main topics: Men, Kids, Emotion, Bodies. The above is how many of my female friends see themselves and their relationships. Women beat themselves up far more easily about changes in their physical appearance, usually comparing themselves to a level of perfection that most mortal human beings can never meet. This often results in inevitable failure and an even bigger shame spiral, as another pound lands squarely on what we are quite certain is the "biggest ass anyone has ever seen I might as well just have another God Damn Ho Ho because no one will ever love me anyway or maybe I should just stop eating completely GAWD I SUCK". It's ugly people. It's really NOT.PRETTY.AT.ALL. 


I spoke with 4 men today about this weighty issue. 


Gentleman 1
Me: Over the years have you and your wife gained a few pounds? Have either of you ever mentioned to the other that "you could stand to lose a few pounds"?
Him: Yes, we both have. I haven't said anything, no...only if she really bitches about her weight I say put up or do something.....with me she says "we" have to loose weight....I don't have a problem with my weight...well I know I'm over weight but I don't really give a shit.  


Gentleman 2
Me: Does your wife worry about her weight? Does it bother you? 
Him: I think it bothers her sometimes, but its not something that bothers me. I think we've been together so long we know what each other looks like. It's who we are. Last year when I dropped a lot of weight it bothered her because she prefers me bigger. 


Gentleman 3 
Me: Does your girlfriend have body image issues? What do you think about it? 
Him: All women say they are fat. I love my wife. I wish she would stop wearing baggy clothes all the time. She could, ya know... more. Anyway. It doesn't matter what I say. She will say she's fat and will accuse me of looking at other women. Yeah, I look at other women. I have eyes. 


Gentleman 4 
Me:  Do you remember when you asked me to marry you and you had a list of things I needed to comply to in order to seal the deal? Remember how you said that I needed to lose 4 pounds a months for the year that you were deployed? What the f*ck was that about? 
Him: Is this what you wanted to talk about? This is what I signed on for? 
Me: It's for something I am writing. Sorry, I'm done being bitchy. Go on. Explain. 
Him: You needed to lose weight. I loved you. I wanted to marry someone who liked herself. I also asked that you allow me to love and cherish you. You always forgot that part. You were not happy with yourself. Besides, you lost the weight. 
Me: I lost it after we broke up. I didn't lose it for you. I never criticized your weight or your tummy.  
Him: Doesn't matter. You lost the weight. You didn't have to say anything to me about my weight. I just did something about it. I didn't piss and moan about it. 
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JEBUS! Has it been this simple all along? Do men really just want someone who smiles, puts out, brings them beer and is happy with herself? Holy Balls!



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