Archive for June, 2009
That’s reason #83 not to have children – they will inevitably turn into teenagers. Unless that age group is followed by Mutant Ninja Turtle, they all suck. Last night was just a reaffirmation that, if I have to regrow my virginity to keep from producing offspring, so be it. Sorry, T.
Here’s what went down. It’s about 7:00. I’m still cooling down from my workout, so I’m a total ratty mess. I look outside and notice a kid riding his bike on my driveway. Now, I’m pretty territorial, so that bothered me, but I wasn’t going to say anything…until I saw his little emo buddies in front of my house. There were five, maybe six, kids hanging out in front of my house. One of the girls, a chubster in all black, was sitting on my landscaping ties. Now, we spent hours last weekend cleaning up our landscaping and found lots of trash stuffed behind one of our hostas, so I was pissed that she was there. She has no right to sit on my property, but whatever. I wasn’t going to say anything just yet.
Ant then, the goth wannabe with green hair flicked a cancer stick into my yard. Oh, hell no! That shit is not going down in front of me. You keep your shit to yourself. So I’m pissed, but they are just stupid children, so I open the door and politely say, “Please don’t throw your trash in my yard.”
Of course, I forgot how COOL these emo punks are. I should have expected the following scene, but I was unprepared. And enraged.
Green goth fucker (GGF) just looked at me, and one of his buddies asked what I was talking about. I stared GGF in the face and said, “You just threw your cigarette in my yard. Don’t.”
He just looked at me and said, “I can’t hear you.”
So, naturally, being the adult I am, I yelled, “Keep your shit out of my yard!”
He started to say something else, and I cut him off. “Just get moving. Get the fuck off my property and keep walking.”
So he indicates to chubby goth girl (CGG) and says, “She’s having problems.”
Me: “What kind of problems?”
GGF: “Uh, anger!” (in a duh kind of tone)
Me: “You know who could help with that? The police. I’ll have them stop by.”
GGF: “You think I’m scared of the cops?”
Me: “Guess we’re gonna find out, huh?”
I walk back in the house, find the non-emergency police number, dial it and walk back to my door. They’re now walking past my neighbor’s house. I stepped on the porch, holding my phone up, as I watched them walk. Then, one of the emo girls who wasn’t even involved turns around to yell, “What are you looking at, bitch?”
I looked at her and laughed. When you’re really pissed, nothing is more infuriating than being laughed at, so I laughed.
I’m going to move our shotgun near the front door so the next time they decide to try to fuck with me, I can grab it, open the door and cock that son of a bitch. I’m crazy. You don’t want to mess with crazy.
You want to be emo? I’ll give you something to be emo about. How about having bills to pay and not making quite enough money? How about having a job you hate and not being able to afford to quit or take a pay cut to find something that would make you happier? Stop acting like a total wank. You live with your mom and your biggest concern is what death metal band shirt to wear tomorrow. Fuck off.
Fucking punk ass kids.
That was one of my favorite categories on SNL’s Celebrity Jeopardy. Just hearing it get read made me laugh every time. Anal bum cover, the penis mightier and the rapists were my absolute faves, though. Random, I know. It’s foreshadowing, so consider yourself prepared for the question marks to come. And for fun, read this whole post as if you were fake Sean Connery. A leather glove!
For the past two days, I’ve had this really weird, lingering taste in my throat. It’s bitter, almost like bile, and it won’t go away. Gargling, brushing my teeth, eating, drinking…nothing helps it. I don’t know what it’s from. It’s almost like that taste you get when you go to take an uncoated pill but then realized you didn’t have water to swallow it with and so the pill started disintegrating on your tongue before you swallowed it. Yeah, it’s like that. Anyway, I used to watch way too much TV, so I’m convinced I’m going to have a stroke or something.
The last two weeks I’ve been in edit for a new campaign at work. The editor was this super cool guy from Beantown. Good thing he was so cool because this phase has been a beast with the client. Anyway, my coworker, the editor and I got to spend lots o’ quality time together, so naturally the topic of offspring came up. I started talking about how frustrating it is for people to be so baffled by the fact that I, a WOMAN for chris’s sake [PS - I just started watching Weeds], don’t want to procreate. He laughed and said he and his wife were the same way and then…whoops! Baby on board. Then he said that they weren’t so cool with the only child thing and didn’t want their son to grow up to be a spoiled brat, so now his wifey is incubating baby 2.0. That freaked me out. Now, instead of asking Mr. T if he wants to do it all the time, I’m making sure I sleep fully clothed and belch a lot…
I bought the best book ever a few weeks ago to help me relieve a little stress. Not best in a literary sense, but best in an awesome sense. Chuck Norris vs. Mr. T – The Unauthorized Parody by Ian Spector. “400 facts about the baddest dudes in the history of ever.” It makes me happy. But at the same time, it also makes me very, very sad. Why can’t I get paid to write crap like that? That would be the best.
I need a new word to replace “awesome” in my vocabulary. I use it way too much. In everything. Professional, personal, it doesn’t matter. I use it all the time. Granted, it’s always in proper context, but still – I’m on the lookout for my new awesome.
Did you know that armadillos have hair? And that they’re a carrier of leprosy???? Crazy.
I’ve been in a funky mood all week, so I decided a little online retail therapy would be good for me. And, in my magical little world, I thought it would be awesome to buy some 80s tshirts…I like my magical little world. On Friday, I’m going to be one happy Sassy. You know you want these:
Yes, I know I need to grow up, but I don’t fucking care. The 80s were the best years of my life and cartoons are so not as cool anymore. And I work in advertising so I can get away with this shit. I had to really focus on only buying three. After my tattoo goal at 30 pounds, my next goal will be more shirts. I love them.
Yesterday, I was driving back to work from the bank and something flew at my car from the side and hit it. Seriously, it wasn’t something flying off a car in front of me, I wasn’t on a highway near people moving at high speeds, I was just driving down the road at 35 MPH and BAM! Whatever the hell it was left a dent on my rear passenger side door. I can’t file ANOTHER claim with my insurance company – they’re not going to believe that stuff keeps hitting me. Man, I really wish shit would stop flying at my box…
If I ever own my own company, I am going to have a heavily enforced “No high school bitches” rule. I hate girls. I am so glad that I sit with all boys on my side of the office, and that creative girls in the industry TEND to be on the cooler, less high school side and more on the laidback, chill side. The last two weeks have been so bizarre and I’m extremely frustrated with so many things at work, but most of all at the fact that I still encounter females who act like they never graduated and moved on from their immature, clique-y, nosy, bitchy ways. Don’t get involved in shit that doesn’t involve you, and don’t stir the pot just to create drama where there is none. Seriously. I hate bitches.
I think I might actually have to poo, so I’m heading home to comfort of my own throne. I’ll leave you with this – my friend sent me a series of pictures and this one stood out. Its caption would be: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU????
Suck it, Trebek.
Sorry for the lack of posting, but I’ve been super busy. Work is insane and I feel like I’m losing my mind most days. I keep forgetting crap and losing stuff…sigh.
Anyway, just wanted to post because of something that happened this morning. I’ve lost 19.5 pounds over the last 2 months and it’s finally beginning to show. First of all, I’m at 199 – FINALLY below 200. I tried on a pair of pants this morning that I haven’t been able to wear since before the wedding and they finally fit! Woot! Then I put on the pants I was planning on wearing today (I got them for Christmas – they’re my fat pants) and they are so baggy that they are officially my ghetto pants. Holla! They go perfectly with my She-Ra trucker hat. Sweet. It’s okay to be jealous. I would be if I were you.
So that’s good news – too small for my fat pants and finally fitting in my quasi-skinny pants. Unfortunately, the doc said on Friday that he’d like to see me end up at 140-145. Um, what? I weighed that at the height of my volleyball days in high school and I already bitched about this in my last post about BMI. I pointed this out and he said that 150 would be acceptable. Crap. I still have 49 damn pounds to go and that number really seems unattainable. However, I’m up for a good challenge so bring it on. I see him again in 6 months, so I’m really motivated to show him how awesome I really am. Hehe.
Gotta go. But I promise the next post will have a funny story or something.
I just played with an online BMI calculator, and in order to get to the absolute highest end of the normal weight category, I have to get down to 159. With the few pounds I lost this past week, I’m down 15.5 to 203, leaving a big, fat 44 pounds left to go. That just seems impossible to lose that kind of weight. I mean, even when I maxed out at 218.5, I didn’t think I was 60 pounds overweight. Not the way I’m built. I have naturally big hips (what a waste of childbearing hips, right?), heavily muscled thighs (currently submerged in a sea of adipose tissue) and a notable bootay.
So…am I in denial, or is there a better, more accurate way to figure my true goal? I just want to be healthy. Fill me in, peeps. Be straight with me. I can take it.
In other random news (typing quickly as the client will be arriving shortly, so forgive typos on this one), I learned to shoot a gun on Sunday. And for future reference, it wouldn’t be a good idea to creep up on me at night in my house. So all you stalkers, consider yourselves warned. I’m armed and highly dangerous. If I’m really scared, though, I’m not using that stupid .22 – I’m grabbing the shotgun. You don’t have to have much aim with that thing to get the job done…
I also saw Little Ashes on Friday with my gal pals (after meeting some new gal pals at the fancy shmancy new hotel down the street). It had some incredibly uncomfortable moments, but it was actually a good movie. RPatz does crazy REALLY well. And if you know anything at all about Salvador Dali, you know that fucker was insane in the membrane. All true geniuses are. If you don’t know much about Dali and Garcia Lorca, you may not enjoy the film as much, but it’s definitely worth the cost of admission. I’d say there was some skill lacking in the overall direction, and it was clearly an independent film with a low budget, but I enjoyed it. Especiallly the great Mighty Mouse finale…
And I’m totally pumped for New Moon. The trailer was just enough to get me all hyped up, although there was plenty lacking. This is going to be a good movie, far better than Twilight, and I can’t wait!
That’s all for now. I’ll be offline most of the week, I suspect, but that’s nothing new. Shit’s been crazy!