No, I didn't get a tattoo this weekend. But I did see my play cousin Bobby who did. You see Bobby was practically raised in my real cousins house. He, my cousin "Baba", is my father's older sister's son, and his kids are my age. After he had two kids, he married Fay, who already had a daughter, my favorite cousin T. Well T is my favorite adult female cousin, but that is another story. So Bobby grew up with T and my two cousins who I don't really speak to or about because they aren't worth it. Bobby and T ended up being really close friends as adults, and even though I can't always tolerate Bobby, we hang out from time to time too. She's passive aggressive and that shit irks the hell outta me.
Back to the story (have you notice that I have a bit of a problem staying on topic?) today, September 30th, is T's birthday. Happy Birthday T!!! Mmmmmmmmwaaaaaah! I always forget the date, and usually her sisters forget to tell me if they plan something for her, but she always makes sure that I'm at whatever celebration she has for herself. No matter what, she always plans a little activity where she invites all the people that she wants to see for her birthday. The group of people sometimes changes from year to year, but the core remains the same. Today we went bowling - I actually bowled a 119 game, which isn't so great unless you take in to account that the last time I went bowling was 2 years ago on T's birthday. She loves bowling like I love roller and ice skating.
T and Bobby pick me up and when we get to the bowling alley I notice a big red circle peaking out of Bobby's v-neck t-shirt. I've known her just about all my life so I pull her shirt to the side and look in. She's got a new tattoo, a lady kneeling on an apple. It's actually pretty good, detailed work. But I don't think that I would have tattooed a woman on my chest. She's not gay or bi, although there have been some rumors. And another thing. Bobby is a broad woman -I think I may have called her Gutz in a previous post -and while the tat fits over her heart and a little up on her chest, I can't help but realize that it would cover my whole damned chest! I mean I'm not the biggest broad by far, but on me that thing would be from my clavicle to my nipple and cover just about one half of my chest. I have a tat but its on my back, above the small so it is very easy to hide if necessary. And I want more, but they will all probably be in places that I can hide or reveal them with ease. I also have no problem with the heavily tattooed. I would actually love to get a full sleeve or something all over my back but I doubt I will go that far because of the industry that I work in. But if your field is artistic I say go for it if thats what you want. I guess I just think that its a bit much on her because none of her tattoos have a real meaning and there no real theme to the assortment. There's Garfield giving the finger on her right calf. A bunch of badly colored flowers on her left calf (these were done at a tattoo party that she had at her house, no one was happy with the tats they got done that day, big suprise there huh?) The ginormous rose and thorns on her lower and mid back. The featureless (not intentionally) fairy on her right shoulder and something I can't recall on her left. Oh, and she's got Daddy's Girl on one of her thighs and Puddin (though I've never heard anyone call her that) on the other.
Me on the other hand, I've been researching tattoo artist and studios and looking at designs for almost a year. One guy I'm thinking about letting ink me has a year waiting list. And alot of the designs aren't available in most shops. I want something special and beautiful. (I was mostly kidding about getting a crown on my ass)
*ps - blogger and mac aren't getting along today so I couldn't spell check this, excuse the typos TypHos.
9.30.2007
9.29.2007
Disappointing
Dudes with screen names like Mr.8Inches that look like pasty shit!
And is it a good sign when a guy responds to two different profiles that you posted? Cause I think it might be momentary lust...
And is it a good sign when a guy responds to two different profiles that you posted? Cause I think it might be momentary lust...
9.28.2007
Owwwwwww!
I can blog from home now! Bitch got broadband
And can I just say thank you very much to sexy-voiced Muhammad at Verizon tech support.
And can I just say thank you very much to sexy-voiced Muhammad at Verizon tech support.
New Tattoo
I'm thinkin of getting a Basquiat-ish crown on my ass, like in the fairy tales (you know the hidden ruler only identifiable by some royalesque birthmark) What do you think?
I Must Be Feeling Better
Cause I'm back to causin Trouble in the office. So it was like 1:30 and I say to BossMan, "I'll be right back I'm going to get lunch." I figured it was a good time cause he was surrounded by paper and it looked like it would take a while to dig himself out. "NO!" The poor man looked so frantic, eyes wide, hair a little crazed, clutching papers like his life depended on it. "Please Trouble, I need help!" Awwww, for a second there I thought he was gonna cry. So naturally I giggled right? "Fine, fine, but hurry, I'm starving"
So then it's 2 and I'm getting ready to place a dial up order to Johnny Rockets (another sign I'm feeling better, I want meat!) And he comes into my office and is like, "Hey Trouble, can you
(OOooooo soooo pretty, there's a rainbow outside my office window! Is there some kind of wish or prize for being the first one to spot it?)
wait until 3 to go get lunch or are you really hungry?" So then it was my turn, "Noooooooooooo! I'm weak with hunger, I cannot go on!" A little overly dramatic, I'll admit, but it got a chuckle and a "Go, but hurry" from BossMan.
So I come back, and the office manager, Maria, for the sales people that are temp. in our office comes to me with a questions. "Trouble, JohnHolmes ordered all of this stuff for when our sales office opens but theres no more room for it in the back. Do you know where I should put it?" Oooooooooo, pick me pick me (who knows where that is from) - "Put it in John Holmes office." And she does. And he comes back and freaks the fuck out. (Rightfully so, cause that shit was packed all kinds of crazy ways in his office!) And I'm sitting in my office gigglin like a loon. Ah, all is right with the world.
So then it's 2 and I'm getting ready to place a dial up order to Johnny Rockets (another sign I'm feeling better, I want meat!) And he comes into my office and is like, "Hey Trouble, can you
(OOooooo soooo pretty, there's a rainbow outside my office window! Is there some kind of wish or prize for being the first one to spot it?)
wait until 3 to go get lunch or are you really hungry?" So then it was my turn, "Noooooooooooo! I'm weak with hunger, I cannot go on!" A little overly dramatic, I'll admit, but it got a chuckle and a "Go, but hurry" from BossMan.
So I come back, and the office manager, Maria, for the sales people that are temp. in our office comes to me with a questions. "Trouble, JohnHolmes ordered all of this stuff for when our sales office opens but theres no more room for it in the back. Do you know where I should put it?" Oooooooooo, pick me pick me (who knows where that is from) - "Put it in John Holmes office." And she does. And he comes back and freaks the fuck out. (Rightfully so, cause that shit was packed all kinds of crazy ways in his office!) And I'm sitting in my office gigglin like a loon. Ah, all is right with the world.
9.27.2007
Why the Heck Not?
notice I didn't say H - E - double hockey sticks in the title? Thats cause I feel back saying the alternate name for the underworld when I'm about to "sing" this song to you guys. I actually contemplated singing this one to you guys, its one of the few semi-religious songs I remember from the Levian Cult Camp. Eh, what the hell!
The Lord Said to Noah
Theres gonna be a floody floody
Lord said to Noah
theres gonna be a floody floody
Get them children
out of the muddy muddy
Children of the lord!
Chorus
So rise
and shine
and give God the glory glory
rise and shine
and give God the glory glory
rise and shine and
give God the glory glory
Children of the Lord
Sooooo Noah
he built them
he built them an arky arky
Noah
he built them
he built them an arky arky
Made it out of
Hickory barky barky
Children of the Lord
Everybody!
Chorus
The animals
they came on
they came on by twosies twosies
the animals
they came on
they came on by twosies twosies
(this is my favorite part!)
Elephants and kangaroosies roosies (HA!)
Children of the Lord
Chorus!
It rained
and poured
for forty daysies daysies
rained and poured
for forty daysies daysies
drove them amnals (easier to sing if you say amnals - and cuter!)
nearly crazy crazy
Children of the Lord!
I suppose theres more, but I used to be to busy gigglin over kangaroosies and amnals by this point to be paying attention!
In a while crocodiles...
The Lord Said to Noah
Theres gonna be a floody floody
Lord said to Noah
theres gonna be a floody floody
Get them children
out of the muddy muddy
Children of the lord!
Chorus
So rise
and shine
and give God the glory glory
rise and shine
and give God the glory glory
rise and shine and
give God the glory glory
Children of the Lord
Sooooo Noah
he built them
he built them an arky arky
Noah
he built them
he built them an arky arky
Made it out of
Hickory barky barky
Children of the Lord
Everybody!
Chorus
The animals
they came on
they came on by twosies twosies
the animals
they came on
they came on by twosies twosies
(this is my favorite part!)
Elephants and kangaroosies roosies (HA!)
Children of the Lord
Chorus!
It rained
and poured
for forty daysies daysies
rained and poured
for forty daysies daysies
drove them amnals (easier to sing if you say amnals - and cuter!)
nearly crazy crazy
Children of the Lord!
I suppose theres more, but I used to be to busy gigglin over kangaroosies and amnals by this point to be paying attention!
In a while crocodiles...
Wild Thing!
Now I wonder where a little black girl in Bed Stuy got a tape of The Troggs. No matter, I did and I played it over and over and over - then bawled my head off when it broke so somebody got me a new one. This was my favorite song from the time I was about 5 til I was about 9 or 10, and I still love it. Strangely enough, Where the Wild Things Are was one of my favorite books, which may be why Sweetums is one of my favorite muppets, cause he kinda looks like one of the wild things, yes no?
Is It Any of My Business?
For as long as I've worked for BossMan he's had a driver. A very nice if somewhat ticket prone and forgetful Filipino man. But we recently hired a new big wig and it was decided that we would hire her old driver to work for our company instead of us always using cabs, and freeing up my bosses driver so that he only has to work with BossMan's wife and kids. The new guy is an ass. He tells jokes that he thinks are hilarious but aren't. He's a former cop so for some reason he thinks he's above the law (he is constantly cursing out cops that ticket him - like thats gonna make it better.) And he drives like a loon - why oh why did I sit in the front seat when he took me to the bank for my boss? I swear I was white knuckled, which is quite an accomplishment for a brown girl.
Then one day I'm talking to the old driver Jeff, and he's telling me how the new guy Joe, is going to start taking my bosses $100K Mercedes home at night and on the weekends. Huh? Then one Friday, I'm hanging out in the city afterwork and I get a email from OfficeManager (aka BossMan's sister) asking me if I remember the license plate of the Mercedes, which for some strange reason I do. She swears that she just saw the Joe driving someone else around in my bosses car, but the plate was one letter off. And over the weekend I remember how he told me how he got out of a ticket once by using tape on the license plate.
Then I call him on a Friday afternoon to see if he can take my boss to a meeting and he's like "Oh man I was just gonna call you. I just got a call and my Mom is in the hospital, I'm leaving for Florida in the morning but I've gotta go home now. She fell and broke her hip and hit her head. I don't know what to do!" Ok maybe I'm a jerk or maybe I'm really close to my Mom so I just don't understand but somethings rotten in the state of Denver. First of all, Joe's like 70 so his Mom has got to be (you decide so I dont sound like too much of an ass) so why the hell does she live so far from him? And secondly, your Mom falls and shit and your not getting on the first plane outta this bitch? But even more suspicious in my mind was that he was back in NY first thing Monday morning. I'm not doctor but broken hips do not heal in two days do they?
I've also noticed that homeboy will jump through hoops for his former boss, but my boss, not so much even though he is the dude signing his paychecks. Lady BigWig (I actually really like her she's a ballsy kickass brilliant woman, hence the Lady before her nickname) asked me if I could see if Joe could take her to a meeting downtown. I call and he tells me that he's uptown its gonna take him 20 minutes to get here. Then I tell him who he's taking and Lady BigWig tells me she has to run across the street so she'll meet him downstairs. Why do I call Joe 20 minutes later to see if he's picked up Lady BigWig and they are already where she needed to go? He also pisses me off when he's parked in front of the office and leaves his cell phone in the car while he chats with the other drivers. I can look out my window and see the motherfucker ignoring the phone. Once Lady BigWig was on her way down and I'm calling him to let him know. He doesn't answer the phone so I look out the window to make sure he's there and then leave a message. He calls me 15 minutes later, "Why didn't you give me a heads up that Lady was coming down?!" Ex-squeeze me motherfucker! I just said, "Two things Joe. 1) don't raise your voice at me or try to pass the blame, there is a message on your phone. 2) did you know I can see you from my office?" What I saw was Lady chewing his ass out for goofing off and him checking his phone.
But the worst thing I've seen is the odometer on the car. My boss has only had it for about 5 or 6 months, why the hell is it at 14,000 miles? Even driving out to Long Island (where Joe lives) every night doesn't account for those miles, and since the car is leased that means that my boss is going to have to pay extra when he turns it in. And I can hear him complaining already even though thats about 2 years away...
Then one day I'm talking to the old driver Jeff, and he's telling me how the new guy Joe, is going to start taking my bosses $100K Mercedes home at night and on the weekends. Huh? Then one Friday, I'm hanging out in the city afterwork and I get a email from OfficeManager (aka BossMan's sister) asking me if I remember the license plate of the Mercedes, which for some strange reason I do. She swears that she just saw the Joe driving someone else around in my bosses car, but the plate was one letter off. And over the weekend I remember how he told me how he got out of a ticket once by using tape on the license plate.
Then I call him on a Friday afternoon to see if he can take my boss to a meeting and he's like "Oh man I was just gonna call you. I just got a call and my Mom is in the hospital, I'm leaving for Florida in the morning but I've gotta go home now. She fell and broke her hip and hit her head. I don't know what to do!" Ok maybe I'm a jerk or maybe I'm really close to my Mom so I just don't understand but somethings rotten in the state of Denver. First of all, Joe's like 70 so his Mom has got to be (you decide so I dont sound like too much of an ass) so why the hell does she live so far from him? And secondly, your Mom falls and shit and your not getting on the first plane outta this bitch? But even more suspicious in my mind was that he was back in NY first thing Monday morning. I'm not doctor but broken hips do not heal in two days do they?
I've also noticed that homeboy will jump through hoops for his former boss, but my boss, not so much even though he is the dude signing his paychecks. Lady BigWig (I actually really like her she's a ballsy kickass brilliant woman, hence the Lady before her nickname) asked me if I could see if Joe could take her to a meeting downtown. I call and he tells me that he's uptown its gonna take him 20 minutes to get here. Then I tell him who he's taking and Lady BigWig tells me she has to run across the street so she'll meet him downstairs. Why do I call Joe 20 minutes later to see if he's picked up Lady BigWig and they are already where she needed to go? He also pisses me off when he's parked in front of the office and leaves his cell phone in the car while he chats with the other drivers. I can look out my window and see the motherfucker ignoring the phone. Once Lady BigWig was on her way down and I'm calling him to let him know. He doesn't answer the phone so I look out the window to make sure he's there and then leave a message. He calls me 15 minutes later, "Why didn't you give me a heads up that Lady was coming down?!" Ex-squeeze me motherfucker! I just said, "Two things Joe. 1) don't raise your voice at me or try to pass the blame, there is a message on your phone. 2) did you know I can see you from my office?" What I saw was Lady chewing his ass out for goofing off and him checking his phone.
But the worst thing I've seen is the odometer on the car. My boss has only had it for about 5 or 6 months, why the hell is it at 14,000 miles? Even driving out to Long Island (where Joe lives) every night doesn't account for those miles, and since the car is leased that means that my boss is going to have to pay extra when he turns it in. And I can hear him complaining already even though thats about 2 years away...
Who Knew!
This is Lady Shay's fault!
| You Are Miss Piggy |
 A total princess and diva, you're totally in charge - even if people don't know it. You want to be loved, adored, and worshiped. And you won't settle for anything less. You're going to be a total star, and you won't let any of the "little people" get in your way. Just remember, piggy, never eat more than you can lift! |
9.26.2007
TypHos
So I was weepy, but you guys manage to make me smile even if you're not around. So if I could be 8 places at once I'd
- watch TV or go crotch watching with Afro, but I'm pretty sure he'd make me pee on myself from laughing so hard.
- play Halo with Seattle Slim - she's gotta teach me first and shopping for dragon stuff
- make-up and shoe shopping with Lady Shay (how's that?)
- gun range with Danae, and listen to some old skool r&B then we're going to London Baby!
- smack the shit outta Anners so she'll stop obsessing over Paul Banks' moles - I kid, if Afro and I are watching tv, Anners and I are watching old skool movies then going shopping for vintage clothes (she's coming to London too and so is Afro, anybody else wanna go?)
- be riding the train with Mala! and hope we don't get arrested for something
- make Janers do her homework early - eh who am I kidding I'll probably just distract you, but I'm definitely playing with the puppies!
- go for Vietnamese, or seafood with PrettyBlack then we're gonna do the Chicken Dance!
CryBaby
So I've been crying on and off all day for no real reason that I can come up with. I was gonna do a post What Every Lady Needs In The Bedroom but I don't much feel like letting Leggs Diamond out, which is a sure sign that something is wrong with me. Well at least I know I'm not preggo, but I think the crying should have stopped last week. Maybe it's my thyroid. My doctor told me that it was enlarged last year and sent me for an ultrasound. Then I don't hear anything from him so I figure that shit is cool. That is until the whole infected tooth thing, which lead to the whole er docs are idiots cause they think that infected teeth are salivary gland infections (and not a one of them could tell me how one contracts a salivary gland infection just that "oh yeah we've had a lot of those this year.") and then they wanted to shoot me full of radioactive dye and do some test. I'm not cool with radioactive dyes or testing for that matter by people who can't tell me how I got an infection. Specially when I got a second opinion from my much trusted dentist (who is psychic cause he called me to set up an appointment after I did that post about having a good dentist - I'm still working on finding a good doctor) who said, "those idiots!"
Oh and I think I got banned from the Vietnamese place cause of the fucking new guy at work. I think I'm staying home tomorrow...
Oh and I think I got banned from the Vietnamese place cause of the fucking new guy at work. I think I'm staying home tomorrow...
Weak with Hooonger!
So for once I ordered my lunch before 2:30 cause even though I stuffed my face with Thai appetizers and chocolate cookies before going to bed, I woke up ravenous. So I had some fruit and said that I would order lunch early. Which I did but I didn't take into account BossMan. He has a meeting that he is going into at 2 so he asked me to wait 35 minutes before I take my lunch break. What sucks is that I ordered Vietnamese (yes, its the third time this week) with someone else from my office and he's in the pantry enjoying the hell out of it and I can't eat yet. Well I could eat in my office but I never enjoy that. And BossMan is eating the most delicious smelling orange I have ever smelt. Think he'll get mad if I steal a piece?
I feel faint....
I feel faint....
9.25.2007
Fun With Telemarketers
So Crapcakes, aka the receptionist, is out until Wednesday. When she first started here and went on vacay, they tried to get me to come in earlier to cover her hours. I wouldn't have minded if I could LEAVE at the same time she does, but working from 8am til 8:15pm with these nutbuckets is not something I'm going to do without heavy medication and equally heavy compensation...
Trouble: Good Morning! Trouble's Job!
Caller ID 0000000000000 (I kid you not): Go- Mo- mmmmm m please?
Trouble: Please hold for Tone (*click)
Trouble: Good Afternoon! Trouble's Job!
CopyScamGuy: Hey this is Josh calling from your copier company, can you please read me the serial number-
(*Click - uh hi dumbass, if you were really from the copier company wouldn't you know the model and serial number! and does that trick ever work?)
Trouble: Good Afternoon! Trouble's Job!
Telemarketer that sounds like death warmed over: Goodafternoon may I please speak to the person in charge of your utility bill?
*Clickerooo!
Two minutes later...
Trouble: Good Afternoon! Trouble's Job!
Telemarketer that sounds like death warmed over: There must have been a mistake I was disconnected.
Trouble: No mistake and don't call back!
*Clickery!
Trouble: Good Morning! Trouble's Job!
Caller ID 0000000000000 (I kid you not): Go- Mo- mmmmm m please?
Trouble: Please hold for Tone (*click)
Trouble: Good Afternoon! Trouble's Job!
CopyScamGuy: Hey this is Josh calling from your copier company, can you please read me the serial number-
(*Click - uh hi dumbass, if you were really from the copier company wouldn't you know the model and serial number! and does that trick ever work?)
Trouble: Good Afternoon! Trouble's Job!
Telemarketer that sounds like death warmed over: Goodafternoon may I please speak to the person in charge of your utility bill?
*Clickerooo!
Two minutes later...
Trouble: Good Afternoon! Trouble's Job!
Telemarketer that sounds like death warmed over: There must have been a mistake I was disconnected.
Trouble: No mistake and don't call back!
*Clickery!
Pet Peeves
I haven't done this in awhile...
- People who walk up or down the escalator then stop like 10 feet from the end and then ride off. KEEP WALKING ASSHOLE, there are people behind you! These folks must be genetically related to the tardos who get off the escalator and then stand there like the escalator landing is one of the magical places that expands to fit all that enter. I push those folk, and when the say "Excuse me!" all affronted and shit, I say, "You're excused." I also hate the people who don't "Hold your child, fold your stroller!" (at least thats what the PA system for NYC says) and the people who don't notice that the people who want to walk down are on the left and the standers are on the right. Then when you ask them to move to the other side they get all indignant like, "Why didn't you just walk down the stairs?!" because there are like 80 bagillion of them, and since we're on the why didn't you game, why didn't you stand on the other side like the rest of the standers.
- This is kinda related to the escalators but deserves its own BULLET BULLET (sorry I like that Uncle Murda song) If more people would walk down the escalator instead of standing, I swear there wouldn't be such an obesity problem in the US. Move those large asses people!
- Please please please put the lid down on the toilet. Not just the seat, the whole lid. Think about it, the flush is strong enough to suck your shit down ergo it must be strong enough to send millions of fecal germs into the air everytime you flush. Don't believe me? Fine, lay a piece of paper across the toilet then flush. NO WAIT, thats gross cause youll be standing there breathing in shit particles. Instead, put the lid down flush the toilet then take a piece of tp and wipe the inside of the lid. It's wet isn't it? Yeah, fuckin yuck! Even those low flow toilets splash water. You should see me in public restrooms that don't have lids. Hell you should see me in ones that do have lids, I'm just as paranoid. Flushing only when I'm ready to run out, sometimes holding my breath, sometimes with a piece of tp over my mouth and nose...
Every Lady Needs, Pt. Whatever
Ok, originally when I started doing the Every Lady post, I had intended it for it to clothing items. But then I went and added a stash, and a way to shock them and kinda threw you guys off. So I'm gonna try and put more fashion/beauty stuff
(and can I just say that I am eating the most tasteless Gala Apple I have ever eaten. At least its crunchy and not mealy, mealy apples are the debil!)
(and can I just say that I am eating the most tasteless Gala Apple I have ever eaten. At least its crunchy and not mealy, mealy apples are the debil!)
- a good pair of tweezers - I actually have two pairs, one at work and one at home. I keep a pair at work because the mirror is better at work. Mommy is practically hairless, Hautey is pretty normal, but I'm a got damned monkey!
- a pencil skirt - can't go wrong with a knee length pencil skirt. Too long and you look like a matron, too short and you lose the class. You can wear them with twin sets, button down, a sexy camisole, a t shirt even! I'm wearing the one I brought from Madonna's line for H&M with a little red off the shoulder sweater. I like it because its a light weight wool that I can wear just about all year long. I hate it cause its H&M so not really made that well. And plus it makes me feel fat after lunch and I hate things that make my skinny ass feel fat
- a good pair of sneakers - I don't think I said this one before. Cute is fine, but can you haul ass is them? Personally for function I rarely go with Nike, they tend to run a little small but wide on my foot. BossMan is a runner and he swears by New Balance. I do love the Nike Air Rifts, which I usually wear on the train.
- a good strapless bra - I'm still looking for this. The one I have on today is slowly driving me batshit! If its not pinching me in the front, then its sliding down in the back! Plus it gives my boobs a weird shape.
- a good Dentist- cause there is nothing worse that a woman dressed to the nines with crappy teeth. Do you know that I have a cousin who got a boob job, owns a mink coat, and only has about 10 teeth in her mouth? And only 4 of those are actually white. What kills me is that she never has a problem pullin guys. Priorities all screwed to hell!
- a good Doctor - please get check ups regularly!!!!! For your daughters and sisters and mothers and brothers and fathers and husbands and wives and friends. They love you so love yourself.
- a good friend - someone to tell you "Yes that makes your ass look huge and not in a good way." "Yeah your looking a bobbleheadish - eat something" (Mommy said that to me last weekend) "That shirt is hideous." "That blouse makes you look like you escaped from Clown College." "Yeah it's Gucci but its still ugly and overpriced. Put it back." You know someone who is not afraid to disagree but always has your best interest at heart.
- a drink - cause asking for a Screwdriver is so much sexier and mature than asking for an Incredible Hulk or Alien Nipple or Alligator Piss - though the Alligator Piss sounds kinda good. Spend a weekend with a bartenders guide and a couple of friends and find your drink. I guarantee a fun time. (I'll meet you guys at the Staybridge Suites off I-95 in Virgina - I'll bring the Vermouth!) Or just go to Webtender(I'm dying to try a 24K nightmare though I'm sure it will probably lead to me worshiping at the foot of the porcelain gawd)
9.24.2007
LoOnY
BossMan is sending me home cause I just started laughing uncontrollably. You'd think he'd be used to my outburst by now. But anywho, the reason for the outburst was that I remembered part of another song that I learned at Levian Cult Camp, and boy is it a doozy!
We had a chicken
that laid no eggs
we had a chicken
that laid no eggs
and I said, "Honey,
it isn't funny,
to have a chicken
that lays no eggs."
One day that rooster
came into our yard
and caught that chicken
right off her guard
We're having eggs now
just like we used to
ever since that rooster
came into our yard
we had a cow
that gave no milk
we had a cow
that gave no milk
and I said, "Honey,
it isn't funny
to have a cow
that gives no milk."
one day that rooster
came into our yard
and caught that cow
right off her guard
we're having egg creams
just like we used to
ever since that rooster
came into our yard
we had a dog
that had no pups
we had a dog
that had no pups
and I said "Honey,
it isn't funny
to have a dog
that has no pups."
One day that rooster
came into our yard
and caught that dog
right off her guard
we're having pooched (HAHAHAHAHA!) eggs
just like we used to
ever since that rooster came into our yard!
I think there were other verses, but thats all I remember for now.
See ya later al-li-gor-ator! (tee hee)
We had a chicken
that laid no eggs
we had a chicken
that laid no eggs
and I said, "Honey,
it isn't funny,
to have a chicken
that lays no eggs."
One day that rooster
came into our yard
and caught that chicken
right off her guard
We're having eggs now
just like we used to
ever since that rooster
came into our yard
we had a cow
that gave no milk
we had a cow
that gave no milk
and I said, "Honey,
it isn't funny
to have a cow
that gives no milk."
one day that rooster
came into our yard
and caught that cow
right off her guard
we're having egg creams
just like we used to
ever since that rooster
came into our yard
we had a dog
that had no pups
we had a dog
that had no pups
and I said "Honey,
it isn't funny
to have a dog
that has no pups."
One day that rooster
came into our yard
and caught that dog
right off her guard
we're having pooched (HAHAHAHAHA!) eggs
just like we used to
ever since that rooster came into our yard!
I think there were other verses, but thats all I remember for now.
See ya later al-li-gor-ator! (tee hee)
To All My TypHos
Sorry I didn't leave any comments on you guyses blogs today. I was sleepy and easily distracted. I did stop by just about everyones today. And by the by dont freak out if you see that someone lingered on your blogs for hours, that was me. Sorry!
I'll be back with more silly inane comments tomorrow!
I'll be back with more silly inane comments tomorrow!
Who Knew
Apparently I really like Vietnamese food. I had Goi Banh Cuon which is grilled chicken over steamed thin and tender rice crepe with cucumber, lettuce, crushed peanut, bean sprouts and fresh basil in Nuoc Cham (it was like a salad dressing but not so vinegary, very flavorful) sauce and hot pepper paste.
Yum!
Yum!
Just a Boy and a Girl
Here's another song I learned at the Lesbian Cultist Training Grounds. Funny enough it actually has a boy in it
Did I mention I'm loads of fun at kids parties?
Just a boy and a girl in a little canoe
with the moon shining all around
she plied her paddle so
you couldn't even hear a sound
and they talked and they talked til the moon grew thin
She said you better kiss me or get out and swim
Oh! What cha gonna do in that little canoe
with the moon shining all a
girls paddlin all a
boys swimming all around!
Did I mention I'm loads of fun at kids parties?
Just a boy and a girl in a little canoe
with the moon shining all around
she plied her paddle so
you couldn't even hear a sound
and they talked and they talked til the moon grew thin
She said you better kiss me or get out and swim
Oh! What cha gonna do in that little canoe
with the moon shining all a
girls paddlin all a
boys swimming all around!
In A Little Cabin...
Last night was weird. I did two post, which I almost never do on the weekend, then I went downstairs at around midnight with every intention of going to sleep. No such luck. It was around 2 am when I decided that my toenails were too long and I had to cut them. It was 3 am when I realized, I needed to change my sheets. It was 4:30 when I realized that I cant go to sleep in my clean sheets unless I'm clean too, so I took a shower. I'm doing my best impressions of Alicia, and Chrisette, and Amy. I'm practicing booty poppin in the mirror (I once saw this video with a stripper who could pop each of her ass cheeks individually. How does one discover that they can do such a thing? Practice apparently cause I can pop the left one - I'm still working on the right side) and I realize that I've got to go to work in the morning. So I put on my favorite sleep shirt and get in the bed, put on some slow music, burn a stick of Sweet Dreams and I'm wide a-fucking wake. So I turn off the music and start singing.
Singing has always been a bit of a security blanket for me. When I was little I used to walk around singing little songs that I made up. Hautey on occasion could be convinced to collaborate and together we penned the hits "He Didn't Even Say Goodbye" (for our craptastic older half brother" and "Boobydon" (for our Daddy!) When I was 9, Mommy decided to send Hautey and I to sleep away camp for the first time. I hated it! HATED IT! First off, there were no boys, and even 9 year old Trouble knew nothing good could come of a place with no boys. Then there was the fact that it was all girls. Plus the separated me from Hautey and my cousins who were also there that year. AND they used to make us get up at the ass crack of Dawn to tramp through the woods and pray. Like 4 times a week. They called it a Lutheran Girls Camp, I called it a training ground for cultist lesbians. I hated it!
My first day I got into a fight with the only other brown girl in the cabin. She was mixed and thought it would be fun to point out to the other people in the cabin that I didn't wash my hair everyday. I told her I didn't have to and that my hair was different from hers, and that I was sure that there were people in her family who didn't wash their hair everyday either. She apparently didn't like the reminder that I wasn't the only brown one and poured shampoo on my head. Lucky for her ass, Mommy had cornrowed my hair so it wasn't so bad, but she was trying to embarrass me so I proceed to beat the crap outta her with that shampoo bottle. Funny enough the other girls in the cabin came to my defense, so I didn't get in trouble. But when they told Hautey that I had gotten into a fight she came running across the camp and fell down a hill (wish I could have seen it, from what I hear it was hilarious except for the fact that she kinda hurt herself!)
Excuse me for a moment while I chuckle at the image of my gangly 12 year old sister rolling down a hill.
So they only thing that made camp bearable was the songs I learned. One of which helped put me to sleep at 6 am this morning. It's like the BINGO song, as you sing it over you take out a line til there are none left.
In a little cabin in the woods
little man by the window stood
saw a rabbit hopping by
knocking at my door
"Help me! Help me! Help!"
he said
"fore the hunter shoots me dead!"
Come little rabbit
come inside
safely to abide!
Singing has always been a bit of a security blanket for me. When I was little I used to walk around singing little songs that I made up. Hautey on occasion could be convinced to collaborate and together we penned the hits "He Didn't Even Say Goodbye" (for our craptastic older half brother" and "Boobydon" (for our Daddy!) When I was 9, Mommy decided to send Hautey and I to sleep away camp for the first time. I hated it! HATED IT! First off, there were no boys, and even 9 year old Trouble knew nothing good could come of a place with no boys. Then there was the fact that it was all girls. Plus the separated me from Hautey and my cousins who were also there that year. AND they used to make us get up at the ass crack of Dawn to tramp through the woods and pray. Like 4 times a week. They called it a Lutheran Girls Camp, I called it a training ground for cultist lesbians. I hated it!
My first day I got into a fight with the only other brown girl in the cabin. She was mixed and thought it would be fun to point out to the other people in the cabin that I didn't wash my hair everyday. I told her I didn't have to and that my hair was different from hers, and that I was sure that there were people in her family who didn't wash their hair everyday either. She apparently didn't like the reminder that I wasn't the only brown one and poured shampoo on my head. Lucky for her ass, Mommy had cornrowed my hair so it wasn't so bad, but she was trying to embarrass me so I proceed to beat the crap outta her with that shampoo bottle. Funny enough the other girls in the cabin came to my defense, so I didn't get in trouble. But when they told Hautey that I had gotten into a fight she came running across the camp and fell down a hill (wish I could have seen it, from what I hear it was hilarious except for the fact that she kinda hurt herself!)
Excuse me for a moment while I chuckle at the image of my gangly 12 year old sister rolling down a hill.
So they only thing that made camp bearable was the songs I learned. One of which helped put me to sleep at 6 am this morning. It's like the BINGO song, as you sing it over you take out a line til there are none left.
In a little cabin in the woods
little man by the window stood
saw a rabbit hopping by
knocking at my door
"Help me! Help me! Help!"
he said
"fore the hunter shoots me dead!"
Come little rabbit
come inside
safely to abide!
9.23.2007
Pooper Tales
Yes yes yall! It's that time again. It's time for Duke stories!
I've had Duke for almost 8 years, which makes him maybe 9. Duke was a rescue dog, the woman that rescued him thought that maybe the person that had Duke didn't realize that he would get so big. So they left him tied up in front of a pet store one night. The nice people in the pet store brought him inside and contacted a local woman who rescued dogs and she put an ad on petfinder.org. I was trying to complete the course work for my major so I was only working part time as a receptionist/assistant manager in a private health club in a condo in Manhattan. That meant that I was home most of the day since I worked mainly very early mornings, opening the club and then was only at school til about 1 in the afternoon 3 days a week. Emmelinda, the rescue lady, drove Duke and another dog to my house in the spring. She said she wanted to introduce me to another dog in case it didn't work out with Duke, who didn' t have a name at the time. So she pulls up in a van and I see a man driving, a two women, one who is holding the most adorable little dog who's growling his little head off at me and my mom. The other woman is getting out of the van, but proceeding her is this big, gangly, hairy, muddy mess of a dog. He practically drags Emmelinda out of the van and comes straight to me, rubs his big old head on my knee and starts crying. It was love! I mean he was so pitiful, and so adorably awkward that I couldn't help but love him. I wiped him down, brushed him, it was going great. And then my mom came to say hello and he peed on the floor.
About a month later, things were going well with Duke. I'd gotten him used to my Mom so he wasn't peeing on the floor anymore. He'd gotten used to another male, the Artist, coming by the house. Well, that is after the time the Artist threw a box on him when Duke went after his nuts. He hadn't peed or pooped in the house for about 2 weeks. So I figured it was alright if I went out for the night. Wrong-o! I got home at about 5:30 because I went to a club out on Long Island and when I say it is a miracle that I got home safely that, I mean it. My cousin and I were drunk off our asses. So when I got home and heard a dog barking like crazy outside I didn't quite put all the pieces together. And when I stumbled up the front steps and into the house, I'll admit I was a little suspicious that something was wrong. Especially when I was struggling to remember the alarm code and realized that the alarm was not on. Hmmm, that's strange, I set it before I left. And Mommy always resets it after she takes Duke out for the night. Will that fucking dog shut the fuck up so I can think! Wait a minute! Where's Duke! I run upstairs to Mommy's apartment screaming, "Mommy somebody broke in and stole my dog! Oh my Gawd! Oh my Gawd! Why would somebody do that! And why the hell is that dog barking like...."
Mommy was awake, and quite pissed. It seems that about 2 hours after I left, about an hour after Mommy got him to calm down and stop barking, Duke chewed through the alarm wire in the front hall way. The one it seems that was linked to the panic button. Mommy finally falls asleep, in her room on the third floor in the back, where she can't even hear the doorbell, and the cops, the fire department and the paramedics are all about to break down the front door. Luckily someone at the alarm company was smart enough to try the phone which finally woke Mommy, who promptly smoothed over the emergency service people and kicked Duke the fuck out of the house.
Speaking of emergency service people, I once was seeing a fire man. And by seeing I mean, we went on one date and the rest of the 3 months we were around each other was basically spent having sex. At my house. Did I mention that I put up with him for three months? I mean he wasn't really much to look at, but he had the most beautiful clear dark brown skin, and a gorgeous smile. And fuck, he was a got damned fire man, how cool is that! So he lived at home with him mother in Queens and his fire house was in Brooklyn, so many a night he would spend at my house before he had to go on duty. One night, not shortly after I think to myself "if this guy wasn't a fire man I would have stopped dealing with his ass weeks ago, I mean he's kinda a bitch", Duke walks up to him, stands up and politely starts to hump his leg. Now Duke has humped stuff before this, usually my bed (when I'm not in it mostly but once I did wake up to a rocking motion) and for some strange reason one woman I know, but mainly Duke's a ladies dog. So I can only assume that he was picking up on my thoughts that this guy was a bitch. But I decided to give it a go, I mean he was a pretty nice guy with a great body. That seems to be my weakness, I'm a sucker for a great chest, nice arms, firm thighs and a tight ass. Two weeks later, I'm out with one of my homeboys and we run into FireBoy outside of a club. I introduce them, "FireBoy, this is my homeboy BigGuy" they do the dap thing, FireBoy goes back over to his friends. I feel it important to point out several things before I continue.
1- FireBoy was not my man. I think I mentioned the one date and he didn't even feed me, we played pool. I think there is some kind of rule where they have to at least feed you to claim you.
2 - I have told FireBoy several stories about BigGuy, who is not my man and I have never slept with him. And at that point he had never hit on me.
3 - I was wearing a pair of jeans, not skin tight, some random heels and a tshirt, hardly date wear or club wear but BigGuy was bored and so was I thats why we were out.
4 - I've knew BigGuy longer than I did FireBoy
So FireBoy goes back to his friend and BigGuy starts chucklin bout how I'm gonna be in trouble for being out with some other dude. And I'm being me, and poppin off bout how he's got no right to get mad at me for being anywhere, and bout how he said he was going to a wedding tomorrow, nothing bout going to a club. Next thing I know, the cops are arresting some dude for punching a horse. I can't see, but BigGuy is like 7 feet so he's telling me what's going on. "Oh shit Trouble! It's FireBoy!" I'm really not sure what actually happened. One of the bouncers said that FireBoy was going back across the street when the mounted cop told him to get on the sidewalk. FireBoy told the mountie he didn't like horses and to get it away from him. The mountie tells him to just get on the sidewalk and FireBoy decks the poor horsie! I called him later that night and found out that he was released around the corner from the club since he was a fireman but that was all he really had to say to me. Two days later he told me he thought that I was too close to my dog, and he didn't want to see me anymore. I said, "Ok, take care!" and hung the fuck up. Not surprisingly, about 2 months later he texted me asking if he could come over. I wrote back and said I'd probably be giving Duke a bath and to try me next never.
I've had Duke for almost 8 years, which makes him maybe 9. Duke was a rescue dog, the woman that rescued him thought that maybe the person that had Duke didn't realize that he would get so big. So they left him tied up in front of a pet store one night. The nice people in the pet store brought him inside and contacted a local woman who rescued dogs and she put an ad on petfinder.org. I was trying to complete the course work for my major so I was only working part time as a receptionist/assistant manager in a private health club in a condo in Manhattan. That meant that I was home most of the day since I worked mainly very early mornings, opening the club and then was only at school til about 1 in the afternoon 3 days a week. Emmelinda, the rescue lady, drove Duke and another dog to my house in the spring. She said she wanted to introduce me to another dog in case it didn't work out with Duke, who didn' t have a name at the time. So she pulls up in a van and I see a man driving, a two women, one who is holding the most adorable little dog who's growling his little head off at me and my mom. The other woman is getting out of the van, but proceeding her is this big, gangly, hairy, muddy mess of a dog. He practically drags Emmelinda out of the van and comes straight to me, rubs his big old head on my knee and starts crying. It was love! I mean he was so pitiful, and so adorably awkward that I couldn't help but love him. I wiped him down, brushed him, it was going great. And then my mom came to say hello and he peed on the floor.
About a month later, things were going well with Duke. I'd gotten him used to my Mom so he wasn't peeing on the floor anymore. He'd gotten used to another male, the Artist, coming by the house. Well, that is after the time the Artist threw a box on him when Duke went after his nuts. He hadn't peed or pooped in the house for about 2 weeks. So I figured it was alright if I went out for the night. Wrong-o! I got home at about 5:30 because I went to a club out on Long Island and when I say it is a miracle that I got home safely that, I mean it. My cousin and I were drunk off our asses. So when I got home and heard a dog barking like crazy outside I didn't quite put all the pieces together. And when I stumbled up the front steps and into the house, I'll admit I was a little suspicious that something was wrong. Especially when I was struggling to remember the alarm code and realized that the alarm was not on. Hmmm, that's strange, I set it before I left. And Mommy always resets it after she takes Duke out for the night. Will that fucking dog shut the fuck up so I can think! Wait a minute! Where's Duke! I run upstairs to Mommy's apartment screaming, "Mommy somebody broke in and stole my dog! Oh my Gawd! Oh my Gawd! Why would somebody do that! And why the hell is that dog barking like...."
Mommy was awake, and quite pissed. It seems that about 2 hours after I left, about an hour after Mommy got him to calm down and stop barking, Duke chewed through the alarm wire in the front hall way. The one it seems that was linked to the panic button. Mommy finally falls asleep, in her room on the third floor in the back, where she can't even hear the doorbell, and the cops, the fire department and the paramedics are all about to break down the front door. Luckily someone at the alarm company was smart enough to try the phone which finally woke Mommy, who promptly smoothed over the emergency service people and kicked Duke the fuck out of the house.
Speaking of emergency service people, I once was seeing a fire man. And by seeing I mean, we went on one date and the rest of the 3 months we were around each other was basically spent having sex. At my house. Did I mention that I put up with him for three months? I mean he wasn't really much to look at, but he had the most beautiful clear dark brown skin, and a gorgeous smile. And fuck, he was a got damned fire man, how cool is that! So he lived at home with him mother in Queens and his fire house was in Brooklyn, so many a night he would spend at my house before he had to go on duty. One night, not shortly after I think to myself "if this guy wasn't a fire man I would have stopped dealing with his ass weeks ago, I mean he's kinda a bitch", Duke walks up to him, stands up and politely starts to hump his leg. Now Duke has humped stuff before this, usually my bed (when I'm not in it mostly but once I did wake up to a rocking motion) and for some strange reason one woman I know, but mainly Duke's a ladies dog. So I can only assume that he was picking up on my thoughts that this guy was a bitch. But I decided to give it a go, I mean he was a pretty nice guy with a great body. That seems to be my weakness, I'm a sucker for a great chest, nice arms, firm thighs and a tight ass. Two weeks later, I'm out with one of my homeboys and we run into FireBoy outside of a club. I introduce them, "FireBoy, this is my homeboy BigGuy" they do the dap thing, FireBoy goes back over to his friends. I feel it important to point out several things before I continue.
1- FireBoy was not my man. I think I mentioned the one date and he didn't even feed me, we played pool. I think there is some kind of rule where they have to at least feed you to claim you.
2 - I have told FireBoy several stories about BigGuy, who is not my man and I have never slept with him. And at that point he had never hit on me.
3 - I was wearing a pair of jeans, not skin tight, some random heels and a tshirt, hardly date wear or club wear but BigGuy was bored and so was I thats why we were out.
4 - I've knew BigGuy longer than I did FireBoy
So FireBoy goes back to his friend and BigGuy starts chucklin bout how I'm gonna be in trouble for being out with some other dude. And I'm being me, and poppin off bout how he's got no right to get mad at me for being anywhere, and bout how he said he was going to a wedding tomorrow, nothing bout going to a club. Next thing I know, the cops are arresting some dude for punching a horse. I can't see, but BigGuy is like 7 feet so he's telling me what's going on. "Oh shit Trouble! It's FireBoy!" I'm really not sure what actually happened. One of the bouncers said that FireBoy was going back across the street when the mounted cop told him to get on the sidewalk. FireBoy told the mountie he didn't like horses and to get it away from him. The mountie tells him to just get on the sidewalk and FireBoy decks the poor horsie! I called him later that night and found out that he was released around the corner from the club since he was a fireman but that was all he really had to say to me. Two days later he told me he thought that I was too close to my dog, and he didn't want to see me anymore. I said, "Ok, take care!" and hung the fuck up. Not surprisingly, about 2 months later he texted me asking if he could come over. I wrote back and said I'd probably be giving Duke a bath and to try me next never.
How I Know You're Ghetto- The Bookstore Edition
Now don't get me wrong, I don't think that being ghetto is a bad thing. I just feel that there is a time and a place for everything. And I feel that those that are not able to adapt to their surroundings are quickly left behind. While there are times when nothing other than a "Get the fuck outta my face b'fo I bust yo ass!" complete with head roll and hand gestures will do, sometimes thats just not appropriate...
I went to Borders, which I sometimes do if I can't find the trashy paperback I'm looking for at Barnes & Noble. I'm standing on line and there are two young black women working the registers. They are currently helping two middle aged women, one asian, and one white and there is an older white woman behind me on line. Both cashiers finish up with their patrons, and I step up to a register, as does the woman behind me. The cashiers are bantering back and forth, talking about school and all of a sudden 50 Cents "I Get Money" starts playing. Somebodies cell phone is ringing, loudly. So I look at the cashiers, cause I know its not mine. I will admit that sometimes my cell phone ringer is loud, but it is usually blasting something like "Back to Black" or "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12" (you know from Sesame Street) or "A Love Supreme", never 50. And both of the cashiers are lookin at me like, "I know that's not mine!", complete with raised eyebrows. And the old white woman at the next register starts laughing and pulls out her ringing cell phone out of her Gucci bag.
So on my way home from work on Friday, I stopped at Barnes & Noble. The slightly pervy older West Indian security guard "Hi Baby"ed me as usual. I made my usual circuit - magazines, then upstairs to romance (who doesn't like a little sex on the weekends? - even if I'm only reading about it) and sci-fi/fantasy with a quick trip through mystery and the clearance section, then back downstairs to hit the new releases and features on my way to the register. I'm in the new releases and features section and I hear someone say, "So what happened?" rather loudly. I look up and I see a 30 something nicely dressed black woman standing by the customer service desk looking at a display. I don't see anyone standing near her. "Wellllll, after I told him that..." That's the other 30 something nicely dressed black woman standing at a magazine display about 10 feet away from the first. "If I was you.." I nearly jump the fuck outta my skin cause standing next to me in the features section is yet another 30 something nicely dressed black woman who thinks its ok to hold loud conversations with her friends in the middle of public places. Bookstores at that, where people read and shit, you know quietly. I mean fine talk, but do you have to be standing across the got damned store from each other when you do it? Do you really think I care about you quest to get that ring? Cause let me tell you, I don't. Sheeeet, I want a ring, I save for it and buy it my blessed self.
I went to Borders, which I sometimes do if I can't find the trashy paperback I'm looking for at Barnes & Noble. I'm standing on line and there are two young black women working the registers. They are currently helping two middle aged women, one asian, and one white and there is an older white woman behind me on line. Both cashiers finish up with their patrons, and I step up to a register, as does the woman behind me. The cashiers are bantering back and forth, talking about school and all of a sudden 50 Cents "I Get Money" starts playing. Somebodies cell phone is ringing, loudly. So I look at the cashiers, cause I know its not mine. I will admit that sometimes my cell phone ringer is loud, but it is usually blasting something like "Back to Black" or "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12" (you know from Sesame Street) or "A Love Supreme", never 50. And both of the cashiers are lookin at me like, "I know that's not mine!", complete with raised eyebrows. And the old white woman at the next register starts laughing and pulls out her ringing cell phone out of her Gucci bag.
So on my way home from work on Friday, I stopped at Barnes & Noble. The slightly pervy older West Indian security guard "Hi Baby"ed me as usual. I made my usual circuit - magazines, then upstairs to romance (who doesn't like a little sex on the weekends? - even if I'm only reading about it) and sci-fi/fantasy with a quick trip through mystery and the clearance section, then back downstairs to hit the new releases and features on my way to the register. I'm in the new releases and features section and I hear someone say, "So what happened?" rather loudly. I look up and I see a 30 something nicely dressed black woman standing by the customer service desk looking at a display. I don't see anyone standing near her. "Wellllll, after I told him that..." That's the other 30 something nicely dressed black woman standing at a magazine display about 10 feet away from the first. "If I was you.." I nearly jump the fuck outta my skin cause standing next to me in the features section is yet another 30 something nicely dressed black woman who thinks its ok to hold loud conversations with her friends in the middle of public places. Bookstores at that, where people read and shit, you know quietly. I mean fine talk, but do you have to be standing across the got damned store from each other when you do it? Do you really think I care about you quest to get that ring? Cause let me tell you, I don't. Sheeeet, I want a ring, I save for it and buy it my blessed self.
9.21.2007
The Dishwasher
So I remember what it was that I wanted to say about the dishwasher in my office before I got distracted getting my hate on .
We got the dishes and silverware and I washed it all, then I sent out an email to the office. In it I basically explained that we wouldn't be getting paper plates anymore (what's your carbon footprint?) and that all they had to do if they used something is rinse it off in the sink, and place the used item in the dishwasher. I also informed them that I would run the dishwasher before I left at night, since I'm one of the last ones here. I also figured that this would be best since some people start eating lunch at 12 noon and some people don't eat lunch til 3:30, this way all dishes for the day would be washed. Or so I figured.
I forgot to take into account that people are assholes. Crapcakes the receptionist sometimes brings her lunch in tupperware so she thinks that its cool to start the dishwasher after she finishes eating lunch so that she can bring home clean tupperware. Did I mention that there is also a sink, a sponge, some gloves and Dawn in the pantry? Or that she will run the dishwasher with 4 items in it knowing full well that people have mugs and glasses on their desk. That shit is rude AND lazy. So today, after 2 weeks of putting up with this shit, and politely asking that she not run it in the middle of the day and her funky ass ignoring me (I swear some people don't respond to anything but rudeness) I waited until she finished lunch and calmly walked to the pantry and turned off the dishwasher. It had just started the first rinse and the detergent door didn't open yet so I figured what the fuck. Maybe this will learn her ass.
Then there is our CFO. He's actually the guy that hired me, and he's young rich and gorgeous. He's also a mayyyyyyjah brat. (He's also got a flatulence problem but thats another story) Since I start the dishwasher on my way out of the office, I'm really not surprised when I get to work at 10:30 and find that no one has emptied the summabitch. And I really don't mind since it ensures that I get a clean mug thats no one has put their germ riddled hands on. (I once asked one of the guys to pick up some hand soap for the Pantry and he was all like "why?") And also I've noticed that if I don't empty it people just put their shit in the sink and leave it. And if there are 10,000 things that I don't do, one of them is other peoples dishes.
So the CFO often comes in on the weekends and he started complaining to OfficeManager about 2 weeks ago. "I don't understand why you can't just order paper plates too. I would much rather use paper plates. And besides when I come in on the weekend the dishwasher is full and I'm too much of a bitch to just empty that shit and put my dirty plate in. And I don't want to mess up my manicure by washing a dish!" Ok ok he didn't say that last part, but that was what I got from it. And um, why cant your siddity ass go and pick up some paper plates your self if you want them so bad?
UPDATE: so about a half an hour before Crapcakes was supposed to leave I went and restarted the dishwasher, knowing full well the cycle takes like 2 hours. It was petty I know, I mean if I hadn't started the dishwasher, she could have taken her tupperware home right? Fuck that, bitch gets on my last nerve! So in retaliation she didn't switch the phones over so that I can answer. Which was stupid, cause I hate answering the phones, and its not like I can't just say, "Oh Crapcakes must have forgotten to forward the calls to me!" What a Wankerdoodle
We got the dishes and silverware and I washed it all, then I sent out an email to the office. In it I basically explained that we wouldn't be getting paper plates anymore (what's your carbon footprint?) and that all they had to do if they used something is rinse it off in the sink, and place the used item in the dishwasher. I also informed them that I would run the dishwasher before I left at night, since I'm one of the last ones here. I also figured that this would be best since some people start eating lunch at 12 noon and some people don't eat lunch til 3:30, this way all dishes for the day would be washed. Or so I figured.
I forgot to take into account that people are assholes. Crapcakes the receptionist sometimes brings her lunch in tupperware so she thinks that its cool to start the dishwasher after she finishes eating lunch so that she can bring home clean tupperware. Did I mention that there is also a sink, a sponge, some gloves and Dawn in the pantry? Or that she will run the dishwasher with 4 items in it knowing full well that people have mugs and glasses on their desk. That shit is rude AND lazy. So today, after 2 weeks of putting up with this shit, and politely asking that she not run it in the middle of the day and her funky ass ignoring me (I swear some people don't respond to anything but rudeness) I waited until she finished lunch and calmly walked to the pantry and turned off the dishwasher. It had just started the first rinse and the detergent door didn't open yet so I figured what the fuck. Maybe this will learn her ass.
Then there is our CFO. He's actually the guy that hired me, and he's young rich and gorgeous. He's also a mayyyyyyjah brat. (He's also got a flatulence problem but thats another story) Since I start the dishwasher on my way out of the office, I'm really not surprised when I get to work at 10:30 and find that no one has emptied the summabitch. And I really don't mind since it ensures that I get a clean mug thats no one has put their germ riddled hands on. (I once asked one of the guys to pick up some hand soap for the Pantry and he was all like "why?") And also I've noticed that if I don't empty it people just put their shit in the sink and leave it. And if there are 10,000 things that I don't do, one of them is other peoples dishes.
So the CFO often comes in on the weekends and he started complaining to OfficeManager about 2 weeks ago. "I don't understand why you can't just order paper plates too. I would much rather use paper plates. And besides when I come in on the weekend the dishwasher is full and I'm too much of a bitch to just empty that shit and put my dirty plate in. And I don't want to mess up my manicure by washing a dish!" Ok ok he didn't say that last part, but that was what I got from it. And um, why cant your siddity ass go and pick up some paper plates your self if you want them so bad?
UPDATE: so about a half an hour before Crapcakes was supposed to leave I went and restarted the dishwasher, knowing full well the cycle takes like 2 hours. It was petty I know, I mean if I hadn't started the dishwasher, she could have taken her tupperware home right? Fuck that, bitch gets on my last nerve! So in retaliation she didn't switch the phones over so that I can answer. Which was stupid, cause I hate answering the phones, and its not like I can't just say, "Oh Crapcakes must have forgotten to forward the calls to me!" What a Wankerdoodle
Ishy Coo Coo
I had an aunt that used to say "Ishy Coo Coo" when she thought something was gross. She also stole the membership dues for the bubble club (my sisters childhood gang) and beat me with a slipper once.
Anywho, this morning I got off the train on my way to work head to the turnstiles that leads to the street and I see about 3 of the turnstiles are roped off. Why oh why did I look down?! Someone took a big old shit in front of one of the turnstiles and someone else was unlucky enough to step all up in it.
Curiosity killed my breakfast...
Anywho, this morning I got off the train on my way to work head to the turnstiles that leads to the street and I see about 3 of the turnstiles are roped off. Why oh why did I look down?! Someone took a big old shit in front of one of the turnstiles and someone else was unlucky enough to step all up in it.
Curiosity killed my breakfast...
9.20.2007
Analytical and Shit
To the Individual Who Found My Blog by searching for "Ernie & Bert's BBW Bar",
You do know your sick right?
You do know your sick right?
Rudolph Nureyev
In case you couldn't tell he was a cutie in Swine Lake, here's a better look. Who else wants his jacket? And Afro peep the crotch, I think he stuffed it cause it looks bigger here than it did in his tights. And peep Kermit getting manhandled by Sam...
Tight Tushy
Cause I'd hate to have lead you guys on. Some of you didn't like the Big Wangeroo I showed you, so here's a tight tushy, Mr. Rudolph Nureyev, who is kindof a hottie yes no?
Ah Ni Malllllll
Greatest puppet drummer ever with a true Drumming Gawd...
(said in my best Kermit the Frog voice, which basically sounds like a nasally me)
And now, it is my great pleasure to present to you Buddy Rich and our very own Animal! Yeaaaaaaaaaaa!
(said in my best Kermit the Frog voice, which basically sounds like a nasally me)
And now, it is my great pleasure to present to you Buddy Rich and our very own Animal! Yeaaaaaaaaaaa!
It's Not Where You Start
Didja know that it takes two people to do these piano sketches? Jim Henson would control the head and someone else would do the hands...
which means there were 4 people around the piano in that Fozzie and Rowlf sketch
which means there were 4 people around the piano in that Fozzie and Rowlf sketch
When All Else Fails...
...the Muppets always make me smile. So here's a classic clip of two of my favorite Muppets, Fozzie Bear, and Rowlf (who was almost named Barkley - like the Sesame Street Dog,Woofington, Howlington, Beowolf, or my favorite Barkus)
Rowlf was the first member of the Muppets to gain nationwide fame when he appeared on The Jimmy Dean show from 1963-1966. But he first appeared in 1962 in some Purina Dog Chow commercials. He was designed and preformed by the late Great Jim Henson and was built by Don Sahlin. Henson preformed as Rowlf until 1990 (the day the Muppets went silent) when Bill Barretta took over. Rowlf has a huge crush on Lassie and contrary to popular belief, he was not a member of Dr. Teeth's Electric Mayhem (which is what I'm naming my band - who's in?)
Fozzie is Kermit's best friend and was performed by the enormously awesome Frank Oz (dude was Yoda and Miss Piggy, how fucking cool is he!) Fozzie and Kermit once even played twin brothers in The Great Muppet Caper. Here is a picture of their dad
In case you can't tell, he's the one on the right. And here are Fozzie and Rowlf, ready modulate!
Rowlf was the first member of the Muppets to gain nationwide fame when he appeared on The Jimmy Dean show from 1963-1966. But he first appeared in 1962 in some Purina Dog Chow commercials. He was designed and preformed by the late Great Jim Henson and was built by Don Sahlin. Henson preformed as Rowlf until 1990 (the day the Muppets went silent) when Bill Barretta took over. Rowlf has a huge crush on Lassie and contrary to popular belief, he was not a member of Dr. Teeth's Electric Mayhem (which is what I'm naming my band - who's in?)
Fozzie is Kermit's best friend and was performed by the enormously awesome Frank Oz (dude was Yoda and Miss Piggy, how fucking cool is he!) Fozzie and Kermit once even played twin brothers in The Great Muppet Caper. Here is a picture of their dad
In case you can't tell, he's the one on the right. And here are Fozzie and Rowlf, ready modulate!Joy and Pain
Ok, now I'm smiling again cause Frenchie got me a brownie when she went to get her lunch, and I realize that something must be wrong with me. I'm silly one second, near tears the next, happy then sad. Even my post today have gone from silly to sad, silly to sad.
Well, enjoy the rollercoaster that is me
Well, enjoy the rollercoaster that is me
Wearing Black?
I am (a black short sleeve sweater with a black white and grey pleated skirt), but then again I wore black yesterday and I'll probably be wearing black tomorrow as well. I asked Haute is she was wearing black and she said, "Of course, why?" She wears black just about everyday because she says its easier to match your clothes if they are all one color. In fact I damn near passed out from shock when I saw her in a bright orange dress this summer. I'm fully aware of what is going on with the Jena6, and I sincerely hope that justice prevails, but I fail to see how me wearing black or not wearing black is going to effect the outcome of this case.
Some of you might be thinking, well you'd be showing your support. But I got on the train this morning, looked around, and didn't notice anything different. Maybe its because I live in NYC and wearing black is like our trademark and shit. Or maybe because the people that I did see wearing black look like the type of people who wear black all the time. I couldn't help wishing that they picked a more standout color like yellow, red, purple or green.
Then I go to one of the gossip sites and I see they are posting pictures of people that wore black today. And I couldn't help but notice that most of the people were smiling and laughing. It seems like they were more concerned with getting their pictures on the net than getting these young men cleared. This is just my opinion people. I have no idea what was going through peoples heads when they snapped these pictures, maybe their intentions were altruistic. But homegirl in her fishnets cootercutters and cowboy hat that typed "Free the Jena 6 Wear Black on Thursday" on her photo left a nasty taste in my mouth. So did the picture of the young lady that looks like she threw her brothers black wife beater on before she cheeeeeeeesed for the laptop cam. There were very few pictures that reflected the seriousness of the situation. Even some of the pictures of groups of black wearing coworker seemed like they were joking around. And again I ask how does this help?
Some of you might be thinking, well you'd be showing your support. But I got on the train this morning, looked around, and didn't notice anything different. Maybe its because I live in NYC and wearing black is like our trademark and shit. Or maybe because the people that I did see wearing black look like the type of people who wear black all the time. I couldn't help wishing that they picked a more standout color like yellow, red, purple or green.
Then I go to one of the gossip sites and I see they are posting pictures of people that wore black today. And I couldn't help but notice that most of the people were smiling and laughing. It seems like they were more concerned with getting their pictures on the net than getting these young men cleared. This is just my opinion people. I have no idea what was going through peoples heads when they snapped these pictures, maybe their intentions were altruistic. But homegirl in her fishnets cootercutters and cowboy hat that typed "Free the Jena 6 Wear Black on Thursday" on her photo left a nasty taste in my mouth. So did the picture of the young lady that looks like she threw her brothers black wife beater on before she cheeeeeeeesed for the laptop cam. There were very few pictures that reflected the seriousness of the situation. Even some of the pictures of groups of black wearing coworker seemed like they were joking around. And again I ask how does this help?
Prezzies
I just almost burst into tears. Seriously. Mommy got me a pair of rose gold hoops for my birthday (yes my birthday isn't until Nov. but I think she liked her gift so much that she wanted to get me one too) and I love them! They aren't so big that they overwhelm my incredibly tiny ears, but they aren't so small that they get lost in my hair. And I've been looking for a good pair of hoops for about 3 months now. Mommy gave them to me last night because she told me about them and knows that I will search the entire house for them. I love presents. So of course I put them on today and she asks me, "Are you sure that the clasp isn't too loose?" And I didn't notice anything wrong with the clasp so I was Outtie 3000.
No mishaps on the train. I'm sitting at my desk, the phone rings, I answer it and my right hoop pops right the fuck out. Ok, ok, no problem a little squeeze to the clasp and I should be back in business right? Wrong-o! The gold on the clasp is like steel, and my usual "pinch it between my thumb nails" maneuver isn't working. So I use the corner of the desk and lo and behold, the clasp closes up a little. So I go to put the earring back on and I can't get the post into the clasp. So I take it out of my ear and try it while I'm looking at it. No go even though I'm pretty sure that my little surgery barely moved the clasp. So I try again. And the fucking earring bends like a hooker grabbing ankles. "Shit!" Minor freak out, I get it straightened out. I try and loosen the clasp and guess fuck the what happened (purpose on that was)? The other side crumples like a piece of tin foil.
And I'm so near tears that its not even funny...
p.s. - I called Mommy and she calmed me down some. She's gonna take them back, but I'm still kinda sad and feelin a little loserish...
No mishaps on the train. I'm sitting at my desk, the phone rings, I answer it and my right hoop pops right the fuck out. Ok, ok, no problem a little squeeze to the clasp and I should be back in business right? Wrong-o! The gold on the clasp is like steel, and my usual "pinch it between my thumb nails" maneuver isn't working. So I use the corner of the desk and lo and behold, the clasp closes up a little. So I go to put the earring back on and I can't get the post into the clasp. So I take it out of my ear and try it while I'm looking at it. No go even though I'm pretty sure that my little surgery barely moved the clasp. So I try again. And the fucking earring bends like a hooker grabbing ankles. "Shit!" Minor freak out, I get it straightened out. I try and loosen the clasp and guess fuck the what happened (purpose on that was)? The other side crumples like a piece of tin foil.
And I'm so near tears that its not even funny...
p.s. - I called Mommy and she calmed me down some. She's gonna take them back, but I'm still kinda sad and feelin a little loserish...
9.19.2007
Sorry!
I was putzing around with email today so I didn't get to do all the posts I wanted. Also I apologize to anyone that got a seminutso email from me today. I was feeling silly. And I also want to apologize to anyone that I said I was going to write back later and I didn't! (I had some mayjah garlic breath this afternoon, so bad that I could smell it when I typed!)
Tune in tomorrow for pictures of big penises and tight tushies!
( I'm only kidding! I told you I was silly today, plus I'm totally knackered - i was on the line with the UK this afternoon- but wouldn't it be nice if I did surprise you with big penises and tight tushies?)
Tune in tomorrow for pictures of big penises and tight tushies!
( I'm only kidding! I told you I was silly today, plus I'm totally knackered - i was on the line with the UK this afternoon- but wouldn't it be nice if I did surprise you with big penises and tight tushies?)
Sleep Talkers
I come from a family of sleep talkers. Mommy manages to crack me up at least once a week when she falls asleep watching the 11 pm news with me. I usually don't realize that she's sleeping right away and I'll say something like, "Oh my gosh, that's crazy!" and she'll be like "I know right! If they don't get the purple flowers in the ground by Wednesday the groundhogs will go apeshit!" (*gigglin like a loon!) And I'll say "huh?" and then she'll be totally awake and responding to whatever it is that I was reacting to on the news. "Oh yeah I heard about that earlier and it really is a shame. The declining moral values of Americans are just appalling I tell you!" And of course she remembers nothing about the purple flowers and groundhogs and I look like the nutbucket cause I'm cracking up and trying to remember exactly what it is that she said.
Hautechick is a little better but not much. She just has outburst. She me and the Artist will be chilling at her house watching tv and she starts getting quieter and quieter til finally shes curled up in a little ball. Then she starts whispering shit. Just below your hearing range. Me and the Artist will end up sneaking closer and closer to her in an attempt to hear what she's saying, trying not to laugh. "What did you say Hautey?" and all of a sudden shes wide awake and pissed and me and the Artist are like 2 inches from her face. "I said get the fuck outta my face! What the hell are you two doing?!"
The Artist is the most fun. He actually answers you when he's sleeping. "Hey Artso, you mind if I change the channel?" "Nah Troubsy, just make sure that you don't forget to tie a counterclockwise knot before you do." Unlike Mommy, the Artist's outburst usually aren't gibberish, just odd.
So what do I do? Well I have the inane ability to sound completely awake and lucid even when I'm sleeping. Which means that I have the tendency to answer the phone in my sleep. I'll wake up minutes into a conversation with no idea of what I said! This happened on Monday when Brownie called me. I'm still not sure what I said, but it musta been good cause he wants me to spend the weekend with him...
Hautechick is a little better but not much. She just has outburst. She me and the Artist will be chilling at her house watching tv and she starts getting quieter and quieter til finally shes curled up in a little ball. Then she starts whispering shit. Just below your hearing range. Me and the Artist will end up sneaking closer and closer to her in an attempt to hear what she's saying, trying not to laugh. "What did you say Hautey?" and all of a sudden shes wide awake and pissed and me and the Artist are like 2 inches from her face. "I said get the fuck outta my face! What the hell are you two doing?!"
The Artist is the most fun. He actually answers you when he's sleeping. "Hey Artso, you mind if I change the channel?" "Nah Troubsy, just make sure that you don't forget to tie a counterclockwise knot before you do." Unlike Mommy, the Artist's outburst usually aren't gibberish, just odd.
So what do I do? Well I have the inane ability to sound completely awake and lucid even when I'm sleeping. Which means that I have the tendency to answer the phone in my sleep. I'll wake up minutes into a conversation with no idea of what I said! This happened on Monday when Brownie called me. I'm still not sure what I said, but it musta been good cause he wants me to spend the weekend with him...
Fucking Idiots
I hate this time of year. No, thats not actually true. I love the weather and the trees changing color, but I swear fore jaysus that people get stoopider this time of year...
OfficeManager and I decided that instead of buying millions of paper plates and plastic utensils, we were gonna order some flat and dinnerware since the office has a cute lil LG dishwasher that never gets used. Actually, we were both embarrassed (why do I always forget that embarrassed has two r's?) when I had to give a world famous architect (and all around super stylish man) an espresso (from our $700 machine) in a cheap and ugly paper cup. So I order some nice simple pieces from Crate and Barrel, dinner plates, cups and saucers, bowls, salad plates. They arrive and I'm in hog heaven! ( I love opening up packages) So I'm unpacking everything and putting it straight into the dishwasher. Tell me why three separate people asked me why I was washing the plates. "They're brand new!" So you're telling me that you know for a fact that every peoples (I said peoples on purpose just so I could say peoples on purpose) that touched these plates had clean hands? And did I miss something, cause I could have sworn that that cardboard box is not a sterile environment.
And while I'm at it can somebody please explain to me why most of these momofokos dont know the difference between a salad plate and a saucer? Its not so hard, the saucer is itty bitty and has a depression where the cup sits!
And so I sent out an email, telling everyone about the new stuff at our disposal. And tell them that if they rinse their stuff off and put it in the dishwasher, I will start it every night before I leave since I'm one of the last peoples to leave at night. So of course the receptionist just has to run it after she eats lunch so she can take her tupperware home with her. (by the by I hate that bitch) I ask her to wait til at least til 6 and pick her shit up the next morning. But of course she could always just WASH THAT SHIT OUT BY HAND YOU LAZY LYING CROSSEYED DIRTY BITCH! I'VE BEEN HERE LONGER THAN YOU, OF FUCKING COURSE I GET MORE VACAY AND SICK TIME! GET OFF MY JOCK, YOU WILL NEVER HAVE MY JOB WITH YOUR WASHED OUT BLACK T-SHIRTS AND HOOKER SHOES! MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED PUTTING THAT GOOPY THICK ASS EYELINER ON EVERY GOT DAMNED DAY YOUR EYE WOULD STOP GETTING INFECTED CRAPCAKES!
Sorry that little rant distracted me to the point where I'm not sure where I was going with this post. I'll try to remain calm and do better next time...
OfficeManager and I decided that instead of buying millions of paper plates and plastic utensils, we were gonna order some flat and dinnerware since the office has a cute lil LG dishwasher that never gets used. Actually, we were both embarrassed (why do I always forget that embarrassed has two r's?) when I had to give a world famous architect (and all around super stylish man) an espresso (from our $700 machine) in a cheap and ugly paper cup. So I order some nice simple pieces from Crate and Barrel, dinner plates, cups and saucers, bowls, salad plates. They arrive and I'm in hog heaven! ( I love opening up packages) So I'm unpacking everything and putting it straight into the dishwasher. Tell me why three separate people asked me why I was washing the plates. "They're brand new!" So you're telling me that you know for a fact that every peoples (I said peoples on purpose just so I could say peoples on purpose) that touched these plates had clean hands? And did I miss something, cause I could have sworn that that cardboard box is not a sterile environment.
And while I'm at it can somebody please explain to me why most of these momofokos dont know the difference between a salad plate and a saucer? Its not so hard, the saucer is itty bitty and has a depression where the cup sits!
And so I sent out an email, telling everyone about the new stuff at our disposal. And tell them that if they rinse their stuff off and put it in the dishwasher, I will start it every night before I leave since I'm one of the last peoples to leave at night. So of course the receptionist just has to run it after she eats lunch so she can take her tupperware home with her. (by the by I hate that bitch) I ask her to wait til at least til 6 and pick her shit up the next morning. But of course she could always just WASH THAT SHIT OUT BY HAND YOU LAZY LYING CROSSEYED DIRTY BITCH! I'VE BEEN HERE LONGER THAN YOU, OF FUCKING COURSE I GET MORE VACAY AND SICK TIME! GET OFF MY JOCK, YOU WILL NEVER HAVE MY JOB WITH YOUR WASHED OUT BLACK T-SHIRTS AND HOOKER SHOES! MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED PUTTING THAT GOOPY THICK ASS EYELINER ON EVERY GOT DAMNED DAY YOUR EYE WOULD STOP GETTING INFECTED CRAPCAKES!
Sorry that little rant distracted me to the point where I'm not sure where I was going with this post. I'll try to remain calm and do better next time...
9.18.2007
Fun With Telemarketers
Trouble: Good Afternoon Trouble's Job!
StoopidRE Agent: Good Afternoon, can I please speak to the Head of Acquisitions.
Trouble: I'm sorry, there is no such person. (said incredibly cheerfully)
Stoopid: O-Kay, well can I speak to the person that is in charge of buying development sites?
(so basically he don't have a name and he's just gonna keep saying the same thing in different ways until he speak to someone or I get frustrated and hang up on his ass, let tune back in and see who wins, shall we?)
Trouble: I'm sorry there is no such person (said with just a little more cheer than the last time- just enough to lull him into thinking that I might be stoopid too!)
Stoopid: Well, who presents properties for development to the boss?
Trouble: Whoever finds them! (still annoyingly cheerful)
Stoopid: Well I'm sure this is a property that they will all be interested in. I've got a 2 page full color email that I'm sending out...
Trouble: I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to give out email addresses
Stoopid: Well sweetie, why don't you give me yours?
Trouble: No thank you! (still cheery)
Stoopid: What they don't allow you to give out your own email address? (being sarcastic, in case you missed it) I promise I won't send you spam
Trouble: No, I just don't like brokers, they annoy me. (snark city)
and then Stoopid met Tone, The End
(not all brokers, just those cold calling double talking motherfuckers, they suck ass!)
StoopidRE Agent: Good Afternoon, can I please speak to the Head of Acquisitions.
Trouble: I'm sorry, there is no such person. (said incredibly cheerfully)
Stoopid: O-Kay, well can I speak to the person that is in charge of buying development sites?
(so basically he don't have a name and he's just gonna keep saying the same thing in different ways until he speak to someone or I get frustrated and hang up on his ass, let tune back in and see who wins, shall we?)
Trouble: I'm sorry there is no such person (said with just a little more cheer than the last time- just enough to lull him into thinking that I might be stoopid too!)
Stoopid: Well, who presents properties for development to the boss?
Trouble: Whoever finds them! (still annoyingly cheerful)
Stoopid: Well I'm sure this is a property that they will all be interested in. I've got a 2 page full color email that I'm sending out...
Trouble: I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to give out email addresses
Stoopid: Well sweetie, why don't you give me yours?
Trouble: No thank you! (still cheery)
Stoopid: What they don't allow you to give out your own email address? (being sarcastic, in case you missed it) I promise I won't send you spam
Trouble: No, I just don't like brokers, they annoy me. (snark city)
and then Stoopid met Tone, The End
(not all brokers, just those cold calling double talking motherfuckers, they suck ass!)
John Holmes
I work with some pretty cool diverse people. When I first started here, I was the only non Turk. Then I was still the only American born person for about 3 years or so. Then we got Buzz, who looks and acts like The Prototype for a GrandDad, he's great. But then it was all downhill from there.
The next American born person is this dude, lets call him JohnHolmes cause for a little while he had this pervy porn star mustache that no one could keep a straight face around. (When he came into the office with it, BossMan's eyes bugged out and he had to close his office door to compose himself. Fucked up thing is that when he closes his door everything just echoes so you could hear him laughing all around the office!) JohnHolmes, I think, was probably picked on as a kid. A lot. And as a result hes a huge jerk, kissassy and phony one minute, and insulting and jerky the next. One day Mommy came to the office and he's all "Oh, you could be sisters! Did you know that Trouble always sells me the stuff that you bake?(lie) Oh, yeah she really hates it so you can just send it directly to me! Guffaw Guffaw! Ha!" And she gets in my office and is like "What a phony ass!" One day he had to go to Brooklyn for something and he comes up to me and is like "Yo Trouble What it be! (he says that to me all the time, and I always ask him if he's ever heard me speak like that) When I get to Brooklyn should I do this so I fit in?" "This" was throwing up what I assume was the gang sign for wack ass bad dressing jewish guys. And of course I told him to go right the fuck ahead and do that shit in Brooklyn. I was hoping that he might not come back. Oh, then there was the time that I wore my black and white gingham print full skirted shirt dress (very 50's!) and he told me I looked like a maid and I told him to bite me. Or the time I wore my grey and white plaid babydoll dress and he asked me where the bottom half of my outfit was. And he's the same person that told me that I'm gonna die cause I eat cheesefries and burgers alot. Isn't that incredibly rude? He really said "Your gonna die really soon if you keep eating like that." How I eat at work is nothing like how I eat outside of work. Needless to say I don't like the asshat.
JohnHolmes is also the person that told OfficeManager that she shouldn't buy cookies for the office anymore because they are bad for us. What he really meant is that he has no self control. He'll go into the Pantry and break a piece off of a cookie and then leave the rest of the cookie for someone else, like anyone wants to eat after his mouthopen lipsmackin ass. Whenever I see the broken cookies I always pretend to freak out, loud enough for the whole office to hear, "EWWWWWWWW! Somebody took a bite outta this cookie and then put it back!!!! Grooooooooossssss!" It's not like they're huge cookies either. And he's also the person that yelled Bloody Murder when I wiped the table in the break room off with a Clorox Bleach wipe. "What are you trying to kill us all!" No actually I'm trying to prevent myself from getting the 7 or 8 colds I end up with cause you momofokos dont know when to stay your asses home! And while I'm at it, cover your fucking mouth when you cough. He also told the cleaning woman not to wipe his chair off with bleach because it was ruining his clothes. Like the fact that he's been wearing the same pants since the early 80s has nothing to do with the fact they are falling apart.
But the real reason that I can't stand his ass is cause he's incredibly jealous of BossMan. He'll say shit to me like, "Boy I bet BossMans two boys are really spoiled huh?" Which actually they aren't, they are incredibly polite funny little guys. On the other hand I've heard both of John Holmes kids BANG (hang up) on him, and he calls them back talkinbout "Don't do that to Daddy, it's not nice." How bout when I get home I'm gonna beat your bad little ass. Sheeet I never even once thought about hanging up on Mommy. BossMan takes his plane to Europe and John Holmes finds a reason to come into my office. "So how much does it cost for him to take the plane to Europe?" I say the same thing which is only half a lie, "I don't know" which I don't but if I wanted I could find out. And then he goes on and on about what a waste of money it is and it has to be more than flying first class. Actually Shitstacks its about the same price or not too far off. It might be cheaper if you factor in that the last two times they flew commercial, somebody made off with some of their bags, locks and all. And when ever BossMan asks me to help JohnHolmes by entering data into a spreadsheet, he steals my work! I mean its not like he can pass if off as his own, but he'll cut all the data out of my spreadsheets (that are on the server and public to all in the office) and puts it in his spreadsheets (which are only on his computer which is password protected) so I always have to ask his for permission to access the work I fucking did!
So today when BossMan printed out an email from JohnHolmes (BossMan and I share a printer which of course is in my office) I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for reading that shit. And oooooooh boy, it was a good thing I did! Cause in it, he's basically ratting out two of my favorite people in the office Giraffe the Architect (really dudes like 6'7") and Frenchie the Interior Desinger (zee iz really quite nayce.) Well actually what he whined was that they keep brushing him off when he asks them to help him with his project. Like they don't have other shit to do, which is basically what BossMan said to him only alot louder and which much more foul language. And of course I went and gave Frenchie and Giraffe a heads up, complete with a copy of the email (that was later burned to protect the innocent, namely me!)
The next American born person is this dude, lets call him JohnHolmes cause for a little while he had this pervy porn star mustache that no one could keep a straight face around. (When he came into the office with it, BossMan's eyes bugged out and he had to close his office door to compose himself. Fucked up thing is that when he closes his door everything just echoes so you could hear him laughing all around the office!) JohnHolmes, I think, was probably picked on as a kid. A lot. And as a result hes a huge jerk, kissassy and phony one minute, and insulting and jerky the next. One day Mommy came to the office and he's all "Oh, you could be sisters! Did you know that Trouble always sells me the stuff that you bake?(lie) Oh, yeah she really hates it so you can just send it directly to me! Guffaw Guffaw! Ha!" And she gets in my office and is like "What a phony ass!" One day he had to go to Brooklyn for something and he comes up to me and is like "Yo Trouble What it be! (he says that to me all the time, and I always ask him if he's ever heard me speak like that) When I get to Brooklyn should I do this so I fit in?" "This" was throwing up what I assume was the gang sign for wack ass bad dressing jewish guys. And of course I told him to go right the fuck ahead and do that shit in Brooklyn. I was hoping that he might not come back. Oh, then there was the time that I wore my black and white gingham print full skirted shirt dress (very 50's!) and he told me I looked like a maid and I told him to bite me. Or the time I wore my grey and white plaid babydoll dress and he asked me where the bottom half of my outfit was. And he's the same person that told me that I'm gonna die cause I eat cheesefries and burgers alot. Isn't that incredibly rude? He really said "Your gonna die really soon if you keep eating like that." How I eat at work is nothing like how I eat outside of work. Needless to say I don't like the asshat.
JohnHolmes is also the person that told OfficeManager that she shouldn't buy cookies for the office anymore because they are bad for us. What he really meant is that he has no self control. He'll go into the Pantry and break a piece off of a cookie and then leave the rest of the cookie for someone else, like anyone wants to eat after his mouthopen lipsmackin ass. Whenever I see the broken cookies I always pretend to freak out, loud enough for the whole office to hear, "EWWWWWWWW! Somebody took a bite outta this cookie and then put it back!!!! Grooooooooossssss!" It's not like they're huge cookies either. And he's also the person that yelled Bloody Murder when I wiped the table in the break room off with a Clorox Bleach wipe. "What are you trying to kill us all!" No actually I'm trying to prevent myself from getting the 7 or 8 colds I end up with cause you momofokos dont know when to stay your asses home! And while I'm at it, cover your fucking mouth when you cough. He also told the cleaning woman not to wipe his chair off with bleach because it was ruining his clothes. Like the fact that he's been wearing the same pants since the early 80s has nothing to do with the fact they are falling apart.
But the real reason that I can't stand his ass is cause he's incredibly jealous of BossMan. He'll say shit to me like, "Boy I bet BossMans two boys are really spoiled huh?" Which actually they aren't, they are incredibly polite funny little guys. On the other hand I've heard both of John Holmes kids BANG (hang up) on him, and he calls them back talkinbout "Don't do that to Daddy, it's not nice." How bout when I get home I'm gonna beat your bad little ass. Sheeet I never even once thought about hanging up on Mommy. BossMan takes his plane to Europe and John Holmes finds a reason to come into my office. "So how much does it cost for him to take the plane to Europe?" I say the same thing which is only half a lie, "I don't know" which I don't but if I wanted I could find out. And then he goes on and on about what a waste of money it is and it has to be more than flying first class. Actually Shitstacks its about the same price or not too far off. It might be cheaper if you factor in that the last two times they flew commercial, somebody made off with some of their bags, locks and all. And when ever BossMan asks me to help JohnHolmes by entering data into a spreadsheet, he steals my work! I mean its not like he can pass if off as his own, but he'll cut all the data out of my spreadsheets (that are on the server and public to all in the office) and puts it in his spreadsheets (which are only on his computer which is password protected) so I always have to ask his for permission to access the work I fucking did!
So today when BossMan printed out an email from JohnHolmes (BossMan and I share a printer which of course is in my office) I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for reading that shit. And oooooooh boy, it was a good thing I did! Cause in it, he's basically ratting out two of my favorite people in the office Giraffe the Architect (really dudes like 6'7") and Frenchie the Interior Desinger (zee iz really quite nayce.) Well actually what he whined was that they keep brushing him off when he asks them to help him with his project. Like they don't have other shit to do, which is basically what BossMan said to him only alot louder and which much more foul language. And of course I went and gave Frenchie and Giraffe a heads up, complete with a copy of the email (that was later burned to protect the innocent, namely me!)
9.17.2007
See You Later Alligator!
I've worked here for almost 7 years now. And for as long as I've worked here one of my favorite people has been a Muslim Turkish guy - lets call him Hottie cause it sounds like his name and even though hes technically nottie, he charms all the ladies. There isn't a bank teller within 20 blocks that doesn't know him by name (he makes all our deposits.) He is king of finding free handouts, candy canes, calculators, tshits, shampoo, he's come back with just about everything you could imagine. And whoa ladies of the Turkish chat rooms beware, he is a lady killer!
But seriously I love Hottie. Everytime he goes back to Turkey, he brings me one of those evil eye bracelets. He's got twin boys who look nothing like one another, one looks just like him and the other one looks just like his wife! (yes I know that not all twins are identical, but they don't even really look like brothers!) He cracks me up, only about 50% of the time on purpose. Back when there were only 7 of us, the office used to be really really quiet. I mean like library quiet, the occasional keystroke or cough and that would be it. Until Hottie would start cracking up, for apparently no reason, and that would get me to gigglin too!
So I had been working here for about a month when Hottie says to me one night, "See you later Alligator!" which with his accent sounded something like "See you Lah-ter All-i-gor-ator!" (give me a moment to stop gigglin - seriously I've got tears in my eyes after typing All-i-gor-ator cause thats exactly how he sounds!) And I said "In a while crocodile!" And he fell out! Seems he never heard that part of it before. And here it is almost 7 years later and he still can't say Alligator and he nearly pees his pants whenever I say Crocodile! (hearing him say Crocodile pure ridiculousness - I cannot even begin to do it justice here)
Good night everyone!
I've worked here for almost 7 years now. And for as long as I've worked here one of my favorite people has been a Muslim Turkish guy - lets call him Hottie cause it sounds like his name and even though hes technically nottie, he charms all the ladies. There isn't a bank teller within 20 blocks that doesn't know him by name (he makes all our deposits.) He is king of finding free handouts, candy canes, calculators, tshits, shampoo, he's come back with just about everything you could imagine. And whoa ladies of the Turkish chat rooms beware, he is a lady killer!
But seriously I love Hottie. Everytime he goes back to Turkey, he brings me one of those evil eye bracelets. He's got twin boys who look nothing like one another, one looks just like him and the other one looks just like his wife! (yes I know that not all twins are identical, but they don't even really look like brothers!) He cracks me up, only about 50% of the time on purpose. Back when there were only 7 of us, the office used to be really really quiet. I mean like library quiet, the occasional keystroke or cough and that would be it. Until Hottie would start cracking up, for apparently no reason, and that would get me to gigglin too!
So I had been working here for about a month when Hottie says to me one night, "See you later Alligator!" which with his accent sounded something like "See you Lah-ter All-i-gor-ator!" (give me a moment to stop gigglin - seriously I've got tears in my eyes after typing All-i-gor-ator cause thats exactly how he sounds!) And I said "In a while crocodile!" And he fell out! Seems he never heard that part of it before. And here it is almost 7 years later and he still can't say Alligator and he nearly pees his pants whenever I say Crocodile! (hearing him say Crocodile pure ridiculousness - I cannot even begin to do it justice here)
Good night everyone!
Every Lady Needs Pt. 3
- A Replica Animal Muppet from Entertainment Earth - sorry just kidding! But the more I think about it, every lady needs something silly or childish. It'll keep you from taking yourself too seriously (By the by Entertainment Earth has replica stuff from 300 and Pirates of the Caribbean too!)
- A Good Belt - thanks Lady Shay! I think my favorite belt is a thin silver one that was Mommy's looong before I was born. It doesn't hold up shit, but I always get compliments when I wear it. Plus it's one of the few great things of my Mom's that Hautechick didn't get to first.
- A Classic Handbag - thanks Anners! She said it so well I'll just paste it...
I mean eschewing all trends and stuffs, we should all have like a good, sturdy, sophisticated bag to take to job interviews,weddings, inquests, court dates, etc.
-Anners
- Comfy Flats - thanks Janers. I always look for pairs that are supportive (I just read somewhere that flats with no support are just as bad as 4" heels! Fallen arches are not sessy!) and look good with skirts and pants.
- A stash! - Mommy calls it Mad Money, you know that extra $20 you throw in the wallet just in case the date doesn't go as planned. But I think its important for all woman to have a stash of cash handy. Or even not handy, have that savings account that no one knows about. Get a CD in the amount of the next vacation you want to take. Have something for yourself...
- A Way to Shock Them - have a huge tattoo, a Harley or a Ducati, be able to drive a stick, ride a horse bareback, have a black belt, know what a HEMI is, own a gun and know how to use it (Hey D!), just don't let them put you in a box!
Angels on the Head of A Pin
(I was going to name this in a nutshell, don't know why I changed it)
(I was going to name this in a nutshell, don't know why I changed it)
- I went to lunch with my favorite adult female cousin T on Saturday. I was just thinkin that I hadn't seen or talked to her since we came back from the Vineyard in July and the phone rang (she's gonna live a loooong time!) She was thinkin the same thing so out to lunch we went. It was good and we decided that we would try and go out to eat at least once a month, and try some new restaurants.
- I used my 25% off Coach discount (owwwww! preferred shopper in the howwwse!) to buy Mommy's birthday gift. (By the way, she was laughing so hard at the post that I did for her birthday that she couldn't even finish reading it! And she gave me back the scissors that live in the Garage) I got her the Chelsea Leather Swingpack. But then I ended up buying a wallet, some sunglasses, and a cute little elephant cell phone charm for myself. So she's getting a couple more things cause I feel guilty. (T was with me and she soooo did not help!)
- Our cell phone contracts expired. So about 2 weeks ago Mommy and I went to Verizon to renew and pick up new phones. This black guy was helping us, and if I said "Excuse me?" 80 times, I said it 100. (I'm not sure what that means!? - still sleepy) Speak up shitstacks! (Ha ha - I said Shitstacks! lets hope I remember that one) We didn't buy the phones that day, in part due to his shiteous (tee hee!) customer service and partially cause the latina at the register told us we can get them cheaper at Circuit City. Verizon Wireless - $367 for two phones one of which was supposed to be free and one which was supposed to get promotional pricing. Circuit City - $163 for the same phones and I'm getting $100 back in the mail.
- I am soooooo counting taking care of the cell phones as a birthday gift!
- When I went to get the cell phones, I left my Ipod in the house so that Mommy could listen to some new music while I was gone. I felt naked without it! And I realized that getting her a Video Nano or something might not be such a bad idea. So I called Hautechick to see if her and the Artist would want to go halfsies on it. And she's all like "No thanks, Mommy already told me what she wanted me to get her, and I'm getting it!" So of course I'm expecting the waterproof jacket that Mommy asked her for. Imagine my fucking shock when she hands Mommy an envelope with some cash in it! (And it better not had been that piss poor $100 I think it was! - please dont think its about the money cause its not, but I know that our Mom would have rather gotten something thoughtful for $5 than $100 in a Hallmark card)
- Why is it that whenever we (Mommy and I) go to Haute's & The Artist's place for dinner, they never have food for us to take home. Yet when the come over they always are able to bring back food for like 4 days? I mean to the point that they always bring tupperware with them. This time Mommy got to take home a plate and I got a chicken thigh.
- About 2 months ago I read this thing about some people with locks who had to cut them off because fungus was growing in them - I had nightmares about that. Dis-fuckin-gusting! Anyway so I absolutely had to wash and tighten my locks yesterday, and I was actually done fairly quickly (I started at 9:30 pm and was done by 1:10 am) but I didn't want to sit under the hairdryer so I went to sleep. But I didn't sleep cause I kept thinking about fungusy locks! It was irrational I know, but it still kept me from completely relaxing. It's about 4:30pm and I'm still not really sure that they are dry. I'm going to sit under the dryer when I get home just in case. (They smell really good though and are super shiny!)
- I only have like 2 more unwatched Muppet episodes and I'm depressed cause I don't know when the next season comes out! Probably not til next June or July if the past release dates are any indication. And then when I was trying to find the release date I found a replica Animal puppet! Oh how I want it - do you think its considered art?
9.14.2007
Every Lady Needs, Pt. 2
(I'm gonna stop the numbering right here cause I already forgot what number I stopped at!)
(I'm gonna stop the numbering right here cause I already forgot what number I stopped at!)
- A white button down shirt - Thank you Pretty Black! I forgot about this one even though I am constantly looking for white button downs. And I'm going to add a good white tank top and tshirt.
- A cardigan sweater - they come is soooo handy and so much more polished than a hoody
- A suit - if you ask Mommy, she'll say a navy blue skirt suit, but I think you should buy one that fits your lifestyle. Hautechick would look nutso in a navy blue skirt suit, she's much more bohemipolitan (bohemian cosmopolitan) but I think I have like 2 cause I'm rather prepohemian (preppy bohemian) And you don't have to pay alot for them, especially if you don't really need it for work
- A classic pair of pumps - I would say in black and brown to cover all bases, but either or depending on what colors are in your wardrobe. And classic does not go above 3 or 4 inches, no platforms, or wedges.
Happy Birthday Mommy!
My Mommy's birthday is on Sunday. Go Mommy, it's your birthday!
When me and my sister were little, she used to play with us all the time, and sometimes she would stop look at us and say, "I'm sorry do I know you?" like she lost her memory. And me and Hautechick would squeal and try and jog her memory as to who we were, "We're your babies! How could you not know us!" She, of course being the Mother of Snark, thought this little trick was hilarious and would crack up. Meanwhile I'd be near tears cause my Mommy didn't know me.
Then there was the time that she got into an argument with the woman that ran her favorite fruit stand. The woman ended up calling my Mommy a bitch and boy did she ever get the look of death! Not even 24 hours later that place burned to the ground. Draw your own conclusion.
But last week, I was laying in her bed, watching her tv, and I look over and see my manicure set sitting on her vanity. The manicure set she asked me to borrow 2 weeks prior. Let's listen in...
Trouble: You know Mommy, you are always getting on me for not returning shit (yes I curse with my Mommy, not at her) and looky here. My manicure set has been sitting in your room for over two weeks...
Mommy: Why did you need it?
Trouble: ...just like the scissors that you asked me to borrow that now live in the garage. And yes, I had a hang nail last week but luck for you, I have another set of cuticle nippers. I wanted to see if you would ever return my stuff, and you didn't. So now you can't use them anymore.
(did I mention I was in her bed, watching her tv?)
Mommy: Oh, bite me you little shit!
My Mommy's birthday is on Sunday. Go Mommy, it's your birthday!
When me and my sister were little, she used to play with us all the time, and sometimes she would stop look at us and say, "I'm sorry do I know you?" like she lost her memory. And me and Hautechick would squeal and try and jog her memory as to who we were, "We're your babies! How could you not know us!" She, of course being the Mother of Snark, thought this little trick was hilarious and would crack up. Meanwhile I'd be near tears cause my Mommy didn't know me.
Then there was the time that she got into an argument with the woman that ran her favorite fruit stand. The woman ended up calling my Mommy a bitch and boy did she ever get the look of death! Not even 24 hours later that place burned to the ground. Draw your own conclusion.
But last week, I was laying in her bed, watching her tv, and I look over and see my manicure set sitting on her vanity. The manicure set she asked me to borrow 2 weeks prior. Let's listen in...
Trouble: You know Mommy, you are always getting on me for not returning shit (yes I curse with my Mommy, not at her) and looky here. My manicure set has been sitting in your room for over two weeks...
Mommy: Why did you need it?
Trouble: ...just like the scissors that you asked me to borrow that now live in the garage. And yes, I had a hang nail last week but luck for you, I have another set of cuticle nippers. I wanted to see if you would ever return my stuff, and you didn't. So now you can't use them anymore.
(did I mention I was in her bed, watching her tv?)
Mommy: Oh, bite me you little shit!
Every Lady Needs...
This is just my opinion, but once you hit a certain age I think every lady needs...
(1) a good jeweler - start thinking of jewelery as an investment as well as just being pretty. Gold is a hot commodity and if you buy good shit, you can have it forever and it won't decrease in value (keep your receipts!) There is a store by my job that I have been going to for years. I take all of my repair work to them, even if it isn't something I got from them, because I trust them and they do good work. They know that I love rose gold so they always show me what they got in new and are very good at knowing what I like. I recently purchased a rose gold bangle. The plan is to keep adding to them (I currently have 4 bangles that I wear everyday, three thin diamond cut ones in rose, white, and yellow gold - 1 each- and my new rose gold one that is thicker than the others) and pass them along to my daughter like my mom did for me and my sister. The silver bangles that my mom gave me I don't wear to much because they are very fragile silver and I've already had them repaired numerous times and am afraid that I'll destroy them. And while I do have some diamonds, they are all from South America - make sure you can get information such as country of origin for all of your gemstones! And a good jeweler will not be afraid to answer any and all questions about their merchandise.
(2) a wrap dress - it doesn't have to be a $300 Diane von Furstenberg (although those are very very nice) but I think every woman should have one. I am of the opinion that wrap dresses look good on every type of body (sometimes with the help of a body slimmer) and can be dressed up or dressed down as the required. My favorite one is actually a BCBG one I got from Filene's Basement, I actually have cleavage in it!
(3) a full slip - this one is kind of hard to find nowadays, as I discovered recently. I'm not talking about a nightgown, or a chemise, or a babydoll. Just a nice simple satin or slinky material slip that will prevent your skirts and dresses from clinging in an unfortunate manner. Bet your mom knows what I'm talking about...
(4) a good tailor - cause sizing is crazy nowadays and a slight nip here and tuck there goes a long way. And cause I'm tired of seeing women with safety pins holding their clothes together. Or at least learn how to sew on a button. My favorite tailor is my Mommy. She rocks! She actually made me a full slip last Brumalia (Google that shit then tell me when Christmas officially became a holiday in the US. Then tell me when the Bible says that Christ was born...sorry for the mini rant)
I'll keep adding things I think a lady needs (Oh, like tissues in her purse - cause you never know when there might not be tp) from time to time. And feel free to leave what you think a Lady (or a Gentleman!) needs
This is just my opinion, but once you hit a certain age I think every lady needs...
(1) a good jeweler - start thinking of jewelery as an investment as well as just being pretty. Gold is a hot commodity and if you buy good shit, you can have it forever and it won't decrease in value (keep your receipts!) There is a store by my job that I have been going to for years. I take all of my repair work to them, even if it isn't something I got from them, because I trust them and they do good work. They know that I love rose gold so they always show me what they got in new and are very good at knowing what I like. I recently purchased a rose gold bangle. The plan is to keep adding to them (I currently have 4 bangles that I wear everyday, three thin diamond cut ones in rose, white, and yellow gold - 1 each- and my new rose gold one that is thicker than the others) and pass them along to my daughter like my mom did for me and my sister. The silver bangles that my mom gave me I don't wear to much because they are very fragile silver and I've already had them repaired numerous times and am afraid that I'll destroy them. And while I do have some diamonds, they are all from South America - make sure you can get information such as country of origin for all of your gemstones! And a good jeweler will not be afraid to answer any and all questions about their merchandise.
(2) a wrap dress - it doesn't have to be a $300 Diane von Furstenberg (although those are very very nice) but I think every woman should have one. I am of the opinion that wrap dresses look good on every type of body (sometimes with the help of a body slimmer) and can be dressed up or dressed down as the required. My favorite one is actually a BCBG one I got from Filene's Basement, I actually have cleavage in it!
(3) a full slip - this one is kind of hard to find nowadays, as I discovered recently. I'm not talking about a nightgown, or a chemise, or a babydoll. Just a nice simple satin or slinky material slip that will prevent your skirts and dresses from clinging in an unfortunate manner. Bet your mom knows what I'm talking about...
(4) a good tailor - cause sizing is crazy nowadays and a slight nip here and tuck there goes a long way. And cause I'm tired of seeing women with safety pins holding their clothes together. Or at least learn how to sew on a button. My favorite tailor is my Mommy. She rocks! She actually made me a full slip last Brumalia (Google that shit then tell me when Christmas officially became a holiday in the US. Then tell me when the Bible says that Christ was born...sorry for the mini rant)
I'll keep adding things I think a lady needs (Oh, like tissues in her purse - cause you never know when there might not be tp) from time to time. And feel free to leave what you think a Lady (or a Gentleman!) needs
How I Know You're Ghetto...
You ever come across someone who just can't shake the ghetto or the trailer park? (Perfect example is Twitney Spears aka the Circus Whore - All that money and she can't get a lace front or something? Beyonce or Tyra need to hook that poor chile up) They might be really trying to shake it, but it always shows, like a big scarlet letter on they foeheads.
On Wednesday I was on the train and a young female (I was gonna say lady but not so much) got on. At first glance, she was well put together - skinny jeans, a preppy polo, and some little flats, carrying a Speedy 30 bag. But then she sat down and committed the greatest sin to ever be committed against a luxury handbag, she started yanking what appeared to be her school books out of it. Yes, school books. Not a paperback, or even a small hardcover novel, I'm talking a full sized one subject notebook, some photocopies, a small textbook, and all manner of writing implements. That poor zipper.
And I may be jumping to conclusions but I bet that either that bag was a fake or someone brought/boosted it for her. I mean they do repair their shit if you bring it in to the store, as most luxury brands do, but why be so cruel to it? I mean if she needs a bookbag, its not like Louis doesn't make those too. And shit, any knock off known to man can be found on Canal Street.
Then yesterday, two young females got on my train downtown Manhattan each carrying about 5 big shopping bags. Now I immediately thought, "Uh oh, somebody got their child support checks!" and then felt bad for it. But then it turned out I was right and I felt even worse! It was like 70 degrees and kinda cool yesterday and these chicks were trying to work that fake rocker chick look that seems to be so popular thanks to those idiots the Crackhouse Boys or whatever the hell their name is. Pompadoured ponytails, black nailpolish, skinny jeans with high top converse, and Rolling Stones tees tied up so their belly rings would show. Did I mention it was chilly? So of course they sit down next to me, cause Murphy loves his east coast bitch, and start to go through their purchases right there on the train. Bitch, you can't even wait to get home or is your memory so bad that you don't remember what your bought? I was glad to see that one of them had at least bought a whole bunch of stuff for her son. That is until she pulled out the Coach bag that she got for herself that I know was more than the stuff from Old Navy she got the kid.
And the whole ride to Brooklyn, they are going on and on about how glad they were that they finally got that child support check...
Damn!
You ever come across someone who just can't shake the ghetto or the trailer park? (Perfect example is Twitney Spears aka the Circus Whore - All that money and she can't get a lace front or something? Beyonce or Tyra need to hook that poor chile up) They might be really trying to shake it, but it always shows, like a big scarlet letter on they foeheads.
On Wednesday I was on the train and a young female (I was gonna say lady but not so much) got on. At first glance, she was well put together - skinny jeans, a preppy polo, and some little flats, carrying a Speedy 30 bag. But then she sat down and committed the greatest sin to ever be committed against a luxury handbag, she started yanking what appeared to be her school books out of it. Yes, school books. Not a paperback, or even a small hardcover novel, I'm talking a full sized one subject notebook, some photocopies, a small textbook, and all manner of writing implements. That poor zipper.
And I may be jumping to conclusions but I bet that either that bag was a fake or someone brought/boosted it for her. I mean they do repair their shit if you bring it in to the store, as most luxury brands do, but why be so cruel to it? I mean if she needs a bookbag, its not like Louis doesn't make those too. And shit, any knock off known to man can be found on Canal Street.
Then yesterday, two young females got on my train downtown Manhattan each carrying about 5 big shopping bags. Now I immediately thought, "Uh oh, somebody got their child support checks!" and then felt bad for it. But then it turned out I was right and I felt even worse! It was like 70 degrees and kinda cool yesterday and these chicks were trying to work that fake rocker chick look that seems to be so popular thanks to those idiots the Crackhouse Boys or whatever the hell their name is. Pompadoured ponytails, black nailpolish, skinny jeans with high top converse, and Rolling Stones tees tied up so their belly rings would show. Did I mention it was chilly? So of course they sit down next to me, cause Murphy loves his east coast bitch, and start to go through their purchases right there on the train. Bitch, you can't even wait to get home or is your memory so bad that you don't remember what your bought? I was glad to see that one of them had at least bought a whole bunch of stuff for her son. That is until she pulled out the Coach bag that she got for herself that I know was more than the stuff from Old Navy she got the kid.
And the whole ride to Brooklyn, they are going on and on about how glad they were that they finally got that child support check...
Damn!
Yum!
Have I mentioned that I don't have cable? Or the fact that I lu-uuuuuv men that can dance? So it shouldn't come as too much of a surprise that I was addicted to So You Think You Can Dance this summer. If you've never seen the show, you should check it out, there are bout a million clips on YouTube. Alot of the dancers on the show were really talented. But my favorite, by far, was this seasons runner up Danny Tidwell. Oooooo that man! This clip is kinda long but worth the looksy if you like dance. I don't care if he's gay straight or other, his leg extensions turn me on...
Have I mentioned that I don't have cable? Or the fact that I lu-uuuuuv men that can dance? So it shouldn't come as too much of a surprise that I was addicted to So You Think You Can Dance this summer. If you've never seen the show, you should check it out, there are bout a million clips on YouTube. Alot of the dancers on the show were really talented. But my favorite, by far, was this seasons runner up Danny Tidwell. Oooooo that man! This clip is kinda long but worth the looksy if you like dance. I don't care if he's gay straight or other, his leg extensions turn me on...
9.13.2007
I'm Young I'm Pretty And I Hit Hard
( I think The Greatest of All Time said that, and I've always wanted to...)
I think I might be a florist, cause it seems to me the charge a fucking arm and a leg for some bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I've seen some a-fuckin-mazing floral arrangements but not from this dipshit my company hired to do the front desk. Not only does she bring us the same boring as arrangement every week, long stemmed white calla lilies, but then she blames us for her lack of creativity "Well you guys are so picky so I just keep it simple." Ok well explain to me why you put a succulent in the waiting area and left that shit to die? "Oh, I'll just replace it when its completely dead." Isn't that against the floral code or some shit? Wouldn't it have been easier to water the damn thing and then maybe, just maybe it wouldn't have to be replaced? Oh, and by the way, I've been watering the summabitch and it now lives in my office. And by the by, who the hell told you that you can't water things planted in sand? Ever heard of something called a beach? Asshat!
( I think The Greatest of All Time said that, and I've always wanted to...)
I think I might be a florist, cause it seems to me the charge a fucking arm and a leg for some bullshit. Don't get me wrong, I've seen some a-fuckin-mazing floral arrangements but not from this dipshit my company hired to do the front desk. Not only does she bring us the same boring as arrangement every week, long stemmed white calla lilies, but then she blames us for her lack of creativity "Well you guys are so picky so I just keep it simple." Ok well explain to me why you put a succulent in the waiting area and left that shit to die? "Oh, I'll just replace it when its completely dead." Isn't that against the floral code or some shit? Wouldn't it have been easier to water the damn thing and then maybe, just maybe it wouldn't have to be replaced? Oh, and by the way, I've been watering the summabitch and it now lives in my office. And by the by, who the hell told you that you can't water things planted in sand? Ever heard of something called a beach? Asshat!
Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...
One night when I was a kid, this guy was outside in the street cussing somebody out. I'm not quite sure who cause all you could hear was this guy screaming "Asshole" "MotherFucker" "Shithead" and the like at the top of his lungs. Now I grew up on a family block, most of the adults had been raised on the block, and it didn't take long for somebodies Daddy to get offended and yell out the window, "Shut the fuck up asshole! This is a family block and we got kids!"
One night when I was a kid, this guy was outside in the street cussing somebody out. I'm not quite sure who cause all you could hear was this guy screaming "Asshole" "MotherFucker" "Shithead" and the like at the top of his lungs. Now I grew up on a family block, most of the adults had been raised on the block, and it didn't take long for somebodies Daddy to get offended and yell out the window, "Shut the fuck up asshole! This is a family block and we got kids!"
To: Guy Who Screamed Obscenities at the Ballet the Other Night:
Date: 2007-05-07, 11:59AM PDT
It was Don Quixote, a rather fun full-length ballet, nobody dies like in the dreary Giselle or Swan Lake.
Another fantastic performance by the SF Ballet. I know you enjoyed it. Our whole section knows you enjoyed it. Every time a dancer would perform a particularly impressive jump, or a series of 3+ pirouettes, you would say, "Whoa!" or "Jaysus!"
This, I didn't mind. As a former dancer and now a season-ticket holder of our City's fine company, I get a kick out of hearing others' excitement for an artform I hold dear. Much better than the guy next to me whose head started to fall like a kid in an 8th grade math class.
So, the curtain falls. The end. Applause.
Curtain comes up and the dancers begin to take their bows. You notice a few people standing up. Was it an ovation? NO! They were LEAVING! These people could not WAIT to get to their cars (they were obviously not MUNI riders, walkers or cab-hailers like most of us in the City)! They had no time for CLAPPING! They had to get out now!
It was then you yelled, in your beautiful gray-haired old crotchety man voice, "WILL YOU PEOPLE SIT DOWN AND LET THE *POLITE* PEOPLE SHOW THEIR APPRECIATION?!," slight pause, "YA ASSHOLES!"
Now, I have seen dozens of ballets in my relatively short lifetime of 25 years. Never, not once, have I encountered a fan of ballet quite like you. At the ballgame, sure, that kind of yelling is par for the course. At the ballgame we eat peanuts and leave the shells in piles at our feet.
Sir, this was THE BALLET.
And for your outburst directed at the people who think somewhere in their tiny brains that it is even remotely acceptable to get up and leave during the curtain call, remotely acceptable to not even clap for the world class artists who just performed a most difficult and worthwhile ballet for our enjoyment (artists whose salary is about that of a standard office receptionist), remotely acceptable to WALK OUT while the house lights are up and we can all (including the dancers) see...
Kind sir, for your outburst, screaming at these "assholes", I thank you from the bottom of my art-loving heart.
I've been wanting to say that for a long time.
And WOW! They sat their asses down, didn't they?! A few were even clapping.
You are the BEST.
Cordially,
Fellow Supporter of the Fine Arts in San Francisco
- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 326175577
I luv Seattle Slim!
actually I luv all the TypHos
Thats from her lil tussle with some chick that thinks bein a gold digger is a life goal...
actually I luv all the TypHos
Secondly, I don't roll with many females because most of them tend to be like you anyway.
Ooooh no...that means THEY don't make the cut for me. And being around me is an INVITATION only situation do you copy?
Now run along and go play your little chickenhead games.....
Thats from her lil tussle with some chick that thinks bein a gold digger is a life goal...
Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!
Cause I haven't done one of these in a while...
Cause I haven't done one of these in a while...
Yesterday was hell
Date: 2007-05-18, 7:44AM EDT
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:
0.Occupied
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Shitter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Shitter was blathering to Mrs. Shitter about the shitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.
It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"
Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has manged to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.
* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 333345372
Fosse!
I love men that can dance. And I don't mean this seizure looking shit people call dancing nowadays. So in an effort to edumacate yous all, here's Robert Louis Fosse, inventor of the jazz hands! (he's the one in the light colored jacket - 100 smarty farty points to whoever can tell me who the other guy is. Seriously, cause I really have no clue...)
I love men that can dance. And I don't mean this seizure looking shit people call dancing nowadays. So in an effort to edumacate yous all, here's Robert Louis Fosse, inventor of the jazz hands! (he's the one in the light colored jacket - 100 smarty farty points to whoever can tell me who the other guy is. Seriously, cause I really have no clue...)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)