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Archive for July, 2008

Enough with the breathing already.

posted on Monday, July 31st, 2008 under Things that piss me off |

Do I look like a Smurf to you? Am I blue? Purple? Dead? No? Okay, so then STOP TELLING ME TO BREATHE. Yes, I am overwhelmed. Yes, I may be having a panic attack. And yes, I AM ALREADY BREATHING. Breathing deeper will just make me dizzy and confused. And if I pass out, I’m really going to kick your ass when I wake up.

I am not in labor (that would require being preggers – please see any other post for more information on this topic). I am not asphyxiated. I am not hyperventilating. I am overwhelmed and indecisive. Breathing does not help with either of those conditions. Breathing does not accomplish anything on my ginormous to-do list. Breathing simply delays the inevitable and telling me to do so is less than helpful. At this point, I’d go as far as to say it’s infuriating. Telling me to breathe is the mental equivalent of small human being poking me in the sensitive part of my arm over and over again until I want to punch him.

I get it. I need to calm down and take things one item at a time. And I need some damn help. Not the oxygenated variety, however. Maybe the psychological kind, though. I’m CRAAAAAAAZY! But we already knew that.

Here’s something else we already knew…

 

I'm not the only one!

Babies: The hot new trend

posted on Monday, July 30th, 2008 under Uncategorized |

At the risk of sounding unfashionable, I never want to have babies (yeah, I know it’s not a newsflash). I mean, getting knocked up or adopting foreign offspring seems to be the cool new thing to do. If I see one more magazine cover with a preggo lollipop or beaming celeb family staring at me, I might puke. Brangelina, enough’s enough – no more babies! Jessica Alba, sorry, but your hotness factor has plummeted since you became a human incubator.

Definitely count me out. This is one trend I will willingly forgo. I don’t think I have ever wanted children. I mean, there were a few days where, for maybe an hour or two, I thought I might actually want a smushy faced mini-me (as long as it came with only X chromosomes – no Ys need apply). But those days can be counted on one hand and are in my distant past. I admire my mother for raising us and not killing us. I admire women who aren’t so dismayed by today’s society and environment that they still have the urge to bring innocent life forms into the world.

But let’s face it. Parenting is much harder now than it was even when I was little, but especially when compared to the era in which my parents were raised. Kids today are fat, lazy and rude as hell. Common courtesy has taken a back seat to instant gratification. It’s gotten to the point that I don’t even enjoy shopping all that much any more. Everywhere I go, there are screaming, hyperactive, snot faced brats enjoying free reign over my shopping territory. Seriously. If you can’t teach your child to behave in public, LEAVE THE DAMN THING AT HOME. Hire a babysitter. Can’t afford one? Then why are you out shopping?

I mean, it really irritates me that someone else’s decision to engorge their carbon footprint has to affect me in my everyday endeavors. If I want to enjoy a nice relaxing night out with Mr. T, I shouldn’t have to suffer through some whiny-ass teething kid in the process. Take that shit outside! I get that restaurants are public, and to be honest, a lot of kids I encounter are pretty well behaved. It’s just the bad parents that really bother me. No, it isn’t cute when your toothless wonder screeches repeatedly as you laugh. No, I don’t want to tell you how cute that thing is because you happened to make eye contact with me. No, I have no desire to play peekaboo over the booth seat because your sociopath 3 year old finds it amusing.

But back to the point at hand. Just because Hollywood decided the baby bump is, like, so totally in right now does NOT mean that everyone has to drink that water! It really seems like babies are all the rage right now, and it’s not logical to me that mini-peeps are a trend. It’s like small dogs. Paris and Britney got a few and then all the world had to have one, too. Now there are so many small breed dogs in shelters because teenage girls got over it and didn’t realize what a commitment they were in the first place, and it’s disgusting. Sadly, it’s easy to give up an animal for most people (something I will never be able to understand), but these new baby things are permanent. Well, for 18 years at least…good luck with that.

I’ll stick with my chow and my cat. And please don’t ask me to babysit…

Who's hungry?

Best.Article.Quote.Ever.

posted on Monday, July 29th, 2008 under General Ramblings |

MSN is my homepage and I tend to click random headlines throughout the day and skim articles here and there. I didn’t get any further than the first paragraph of this story…here’s why:

What does the restaurant industry have to hide? A lot, apparently. A hidden force behind America’s obesity epidemic is the fact that many chain restaurants-which provide one-third of all restaurant meals, according to the New York Department of Health-obfuscate the fat and calorie counts of their menu items, and fight any attempt to shed light on what, exactly, is going on between their buns and inside their taco shells.

Best sentence ever. I bet the writer is still chuckling about getting away with this one. In the meantime, you don’t need to know what’s going on between my buns and inside my taco shell…because I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly and my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I could teach you, but I’d have to charge.

See why I’m obsessed with words? They bring me so much joy.

Word.

Well, that decides that!

posted on Monday, July 29th, 2008 under Uncategorized |

Let’s break this down:

1- I am terrified of clowns. They serve no useful purpose, their need to spend that much time with children is suspicious and the face painting creeps me the hell out. And they all want to kill me, I just know it.

2- I realize that The Joker is actually a jester and NOT a clown, but that’s a fucking technicality. It’s the face painting that really gets me, so it’s all the same in the end.

3- I have not seen The Dark Knight and have been debating on whether or not I could handle The Joker and his entourage. Last night sealed the deal.

Around 4:00 AM, I woke up in a sheer terror, covered in sweat, with that hot feeling of fear and dread coursing through my body. Why, you ask? Because we left the TV on and I guess there was a Batman preview on that tapped into my subconscious and ignited the worst nightmare I’ve had in at least a week. Somehow, I was kidnapped by The Joker (yes, the Heath Ledger one, but that was just extra scary because I knew in the dream that he was dead) and he had telepathic powers and used them to kill another girl. His scary painted face was so evil and he was going to kill me next. I woke up before that happened obviously, but that was enough for me.

So…sorry, Christian Bale. I won’t be seeing you any time soon. It’s sad, really. I thought I could handle it and really wanted to see Heath Ledger’s performance, which has drawn amazing reviews. Too bad I’d have to be sedated for weeks afterward.

Shit, I hate clowns. And 40 lb boxes of rape…

Not really...

Aaaah, spam.

posted on Monday, July 28th, 2008 under Uncategorized |

I think this should be a new regular feature – a peek inside my spam folder. I just love the juxtaposition of porn, penises and Jesus that fills my junk mail folder on a daily basis. Here are the highlights this morning:

Get your teeth 7 shades whiter (wow, that’s a nice round number)

Lets hook up – Greg you and me tonight (that’s just wrong…from teeth to a threesome? I think I’ll pass)

Mr.WangQin (not too weird, but I love the name Wang…it just makes me laugh)

Greg, Apply now (wait a minute, I see a trend…my email has my name in it, yet spammers now think I’m Greg? I don’t even know how that would happen…)

Greg talk in style (again with the Greg! And talk in style? Really? I’ll just leave that alone for now)

seek of god ministry church Deuteronomy 4:29 (at least Jesus doesn’t call me Greg)

You have won 2.5 million USD! (Whew, for a minute there I was afraid I won 2.5 million yen! What a relief)

 

No penises today, I guess. But it’s only 9:41, so I’ve got all day still. I have to make this post short, though. I have to find this Greg character and ask him to keep out of my junk…

 

Is this Greg? I'll kick his ass.

Holy crap, I am awesome.

posted on Monday, July 23rd, 2008 under General Ramblings |

I just got back from the gym and I have never been so proud of myself. To preface, I am not a runner. I have bad knees and am extremely slow. I use the elliptical at the gym and generally average a 9-10 minute mile. Since I go at lunch, I have limited time, so I max out at 25 minutes so I have time for some weights.

Today, I completed 3.56 miles in my 25 minutes! 3.56 miles! And the first three finished EXACTLY at minute 21, so the first three were 7 minute miles! The last .56 was slightly less (not by much, though) because I thought I was going to die.

When I got done and headed over to the weight machines, I was dizzy and tired (most likely due to only eating an apple today), but I still managed two arm machines, two leg machines and ab work before I threw in the towel.

I rock my own world. Maybe it’s possible to not be so fat after all!

Ask my mom about squirrel cunts.

I hate it when…

posted on Monday, July 23rd, 2008 under Things that piss me off |

…birds poo right in the little pie slice on my windshield where the wipers don’t reach. That’ll be there until the next hard rain…

…people text me with stupid questions. You’re a bridesmaid, of course you will be getting a real invitation…except yours will be in a crappy envelope because it got jammed in the printer and I didn’t want to waste more ink on you…

…people expect me to think their babies are the cutest and hold it. I don’t even like babies. They look like aliens and make me really uncomfortable. What the hell am I supposed to do with this tiny, writhing, crying creature? Take it back, take it back!

…I’m on the verge of tears and someone asks me if I’m okay. Well, I would’ve been in a minute, but now I’m not, thank you very much! I appreciate your inquisitive, possibly caring, nature, but if you happen to catch me looking sad, it’s better to just leave it alone during business hours…

…offices only have one bathroom and it’s right next to someone’s desk. I can’t poo there! I can hardly pee there! What if the desk owner hears me? I get nervous…then I can’t pee. Poo is completely out of the question…

…I hear my own voice on tape or video. It’s unnerving. Do I really sound like a congested chipmunk on acid? Yikes…

…People park their fancy new cars in east jesus and expect no one to park next to them. When I had my sweet ’85 Buick LeSabre, I would park next to these assholes every time I’d go out. That’ll show ‘em…

…I run out of clean granny panties. I can’t wear a thong to the gym (hello, chafing!) and I’m out of pants as well, so now I’m going commando in my gym shorts. No leg press for me today…

…my cat jumps on my bladder at 6:30 AM. Great, now I have to get up and pee and there’s hardly any good sleeping time left! Asshole cat…

…I forget to put dinner in the crockpot before I leave the house. Dammit, I want salsa chicken tonight! Stupid delicious recipe calling my name…

…my family calls to ask when my wedding is again. You know what? It’s never. Just forget about it. Stay home…

…people ask when Mr. T and I are going to have babies. Mr. T pities the fool who thinks babies are popping out THIS hooha! Have you ever met me? My uterus is inhospitable to babies…

…kids come up to me in public like I want to be friends with them. I’m evil. Run! Run away and never come back. And be quiet about it, I don’t need to hear your screaming…

…I realize it’s time to stop blogging and get to the gym. Do work, son! Time to shed my underoos and get my sweat on. Peace!

Aw, Mr. T!

Newsflash: Hot black plastic burns!

posted on Monday, July 22nd, 2008 under Things that piss me off |

I was reading stories on one of the local news station’s websites, trying to get caught up on the events in Maplewood yesterday, when I came across this story: I-Team: Toddler Scorched on Plastic Slide. Nice overly dramatic title, huh? Don’t feel the need to read it, I’ll review the highlights to save your precious time. Basically, some dumbass parents took their two year old to the park on a sunny 100 degree day and were shocked when the youngster ended up with second degree burns on his hands and legs after going down a black plastic slide. Yeah, I bolded the important details here. Now they are waiting to see if the city is paying for the medical bills that were incurred as a result.

REALLY???? Tax dollars of hard working citizens could potentially be used because some parents didn’t think to check the temperature of the BLACK SLIDE at the park on one of the hottest days of the year???? Not only that, but this is news worthy?????? Here are some excerpts that just blow my mind:

It’s a danger most of us never think about, but it doesn’t take long for the blistering St. Louis sun to heat a metal slide to blistering three digit temperatures. But what recently happened to two-year-old Andrew Ruzicka on a plastic slide has federal authorities taking notice.

Um, that just makes my brain hurts. Where are your editors? This story couldn’t possibly have used the word “blistering” one more time…and federal authorities are taking notice? Don’t they have terrorists to watch out for or something?

They could not imagine the plastic playground equipment at Corondolet Park in St. Louis would cause severe burns

Even though it’s black and in the sun? Okay.

Nurses at St. Louis Children’s Hospital were furious and tried to contact the city’s Parks and Recreation Department.

Shouldn’t they have been furious with the parents and contacted DFS? They are the ones responsible for their child being in a situation where he could get hurt. The slide really isn’t at fault here, people! In case you haven’t noticed, it’s an inanimate object…made of black plastic…that was sitting in the hot sun…

Just a few feet from the playground is a warning sign. The second item down says to avoid burns, parents and supervisors should check for hot playground surfaces before allowing children to play.

And situations like this one are EXACTLY why signs stating the obvious are needed. It’s like the tag on hairdryers…some dumbass tried drying her hair while bathing, got electrocuted, sued and TADA! A statement of the obvious now dangles from every electrical appliance I own. Unfortunately, signs require reading…which is apparently a foreign concept to these folks.

Gary Bess, director of the St. Louis Park’s Department, said the city has used this type of equipment at city parks for the past 15 years.

“It’s never been an issue. We have talked to the manufacturer. He’s going to look into it. But at this point we feel this is an isolated (incident) and again very unusual,” Bess said.

However, the I-Team has learned it is not that unusual.

Oooh, investigative reporting at its best. Seriously? There is nothing better to investigate? What about fradulent lawsuits that cost taxpayers millions each year?…

“I didn’t figure you would make plastic that would get that hot, especially for a kids slide,” said Greg Ruzicka, Andrew’s father.

Um, what? I’m no scientifical expert or nothin’ but I didn’t figure you would assume any form of plastic WOULDN’T get hot, even for a kids’ slide. I bet good ole Bush knows where I can get some of that magic, always cool plastic…I bet it’s on them interwebs I keep hearing about…

And while city attorney’s decide whether to pay Andrew’s medical expenses, the Ruzicka’s are teaming with Children’s Hospital to inform parents about the potential dangerous combination of plastic slides and summer heat.

Oh, please, for the love of all that is good in this world (which isn’t much), please don’t pay the expenses. Pay for a crash course in basic science that teaches these two morons what heat does to surfaces, and then pay for a class in parenting that teaches them how to watch out for obvious threats to their child’s well being. And if enough parents need to be taught about this to warrant a public outreach campaign, I think someone needs to sit down and hear me out on my views on government regulated reproduction. Don’t even get me started on the grammar issues throughout. My blogrammar isn’t perfect due to the nature of the medium. Professional reporting, however, should be held to proper grammar standards. Oh, wait…that’s right, this doesn’t count as professional reporting…I’m going to go stick my finger in an outlet and sue someone for it…

 

Yes, please!

 

Debut of my banana hammock

posted on Monday, July 18th, 2008 under General Ramblings |

You know you want to see it. And because I have the maturity of a pimply-faced 13 year old manchild, I have prepared some high class photos for you to enjoy. Without further ado, I’d like to introduce my second favor shower gift, the banana hammock. This one’s for you, Grandma:

 

Fruity.

 

 Stop looking at my fruit sack

 

I'm just happy to see you.

Mr. T doesn’t pity my panties

posted on Monday, July 17th, 2008 under Uncategorized |

song chart memes
more graph humor and song chart memes

 

Given our argument about my underwear last night, I thought this was appropriate. Apparently, my Mr. T pities the fool who thinks her fiance might double check the bathroom for underwear before letting his friends shower at our house. My closet is in the basement and I am always running late, so unless I know we’re having company, I generally don’t take my dirty clothes downstairs everyday. I tend to be a planner as well, meaning that I hardly ever have random, impromtu house guests and that I have time to de-panty the premesis before anyone arrives.

Mr. T, however, doesn’t believe in planning ahead and sees no need to help a girl out and check for skivvies before letting strange, penis-bearing individuals into our abode. According to him, I should always just be prepared for him to randomly have people over and thus never have underwear out. This is coming from the man who currently has every piece of clothing he owns on the bedroom floor, in spite of the hampers I bought him, so I don’t want to hear it.

Of course, he claims the issue is NOT the undies but the fact that I commanded him to check for them. Yes, I admittedly did say, “D is at the house? Oh, shit, make sure I don’t have any underwear laying around!” However, it was in a fit of panic and I didn’t mean to order him. It was a request for a favor, but that will never be understood due to my initial reaction. I am a commanding, ordering bitch whose fits of emotion most certainly cannot be chalked up to planning an unwanted wedding on her own, constantly cleaning the house by herself and dealing with the death of someone she loved more dearly than anything. Oh, no. It can’t possibly be that I’m overwhelmed, can it? Nope, I’m just a bitch.

My bad.