Leaving (Horse) Teeth Marks

Guess who sent me an email today?  Go ahead and guess!! 

I’ll give you a hint: it’s been about 6 months since I last saw him, he has lots of feelings, and he’s a absolute douche bag.

Any guesses?

This Little Piggy Went to Market

Here we go again: according to reports from the National Weather Service we’re about to get another fucking storm.  After getting slammed with almost 24 inches, it looks like we’re about to get another 10.  I wish I was talking about peen.  What royally super sucks is that I have to go to the grocery store for food.  Typically, grocery shopping is fun.  I’m one of those people who loves shopping for food.  I go up and down every single aisle just to see what they have – even though it’s the same stuff they had the week before.  On nights before storm, however, grocery shopping is about as pleasant as a finger in the eye.

Everyone and their god damn mother is there trying to stock up for the rest of their lives.  It’s a fucking storm, people, it’s not the apocalypse.  You do not need 18 rolls of toilet paper and 4 gallons of milk and 16 cans of Tender Vittles.  Just stay at home and watch the episode of Jerry Springer you DVRed earlier in the day.

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Snowpocalypse 2010

Oh, Mother Nature, you’re suck a dirty whore.  While I typically like that in a person, this is not one of those times.  Those of you in the North East are probably also “enjoying” this wonderful weather we’re having.  It’s a blizzard of biblical proportions.  Many are referring to this as the Snowpocalypse or Snowmageddon, some are even using the phrase “snow-my-god.”  The people in the last group should be slapped right across their mouths.

We lucky folks are trapped indoors until someone comes and plows us out.  Frankly, I think we’ll be lucky to be freed from this snow prison by Tuesday.  Based on what I’m seeing outside my window, there is no way on God’s snowy earth that a plow is going to make it down my street anytime soon.  It’s one of those disasters where the cars are totally buried.  I feel bad for all the people who have on street parking.  Storms like these there’s no way to tell which one is your car until you start digging out.  Thankfully, I have a driveway.

I don’t mind a storm from time to time, it can be kind of fun to be snowed in.  The best thing about being snowed in while single is that I can do whatever I want.  I’m currently typing this in my sweatpants with my messy hair that hasn’t been touched by a brush since yesterday.  Oh, and there’s a beer sitting right next to me.  You know the best part?  I may or may not shower this whole entire weekend.  And know what?  There’s no one around to judge me.  It’s just me and my dog and he doesn’t care – he’s too busy napping.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I think I might spend the afternoon watching cooking shows while I surf for porn.

The Planets Have Aligned

Praise the baby Jeebus and all the woodland creatures!!

If I wasn’t an atheist, I would totally be thanking God, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, etc. for the joy that has just been brought to my life.

Bitches, yours truly is having dinner with Hot Client later this month.  That’s right.  In a few short weeks I’ll be taking my show on the road and heading out to his town.

Just got off the phone with him…

• Him: It’ll be good to see you while you’re here.
• Me: Feel free to take me to dinner while I’m there.
• Him: I’d love to.  Pick the place.

If he brings his wife and kids I will kill him.  What a buzz kill that would be.

And PS, I don’t want to hear about how I shouldn’t get involved with a married man.  Want to know why?  Because I know that NOTHING will ever happen.  This is just me living in my fantasy land.  Know what?  It’s a fun place to live.  There are unicorns there. 

Quality Time with Mr. Magoo

When I started working in my current department there was an older gentleman that worked with us.  This man was, and still is, a legend at Investments r Us.  It’s been some years since he left, but Foxy, Disney, and I keep in touch with him.  About once a month we get together to have lunch with him.  We would do it more frequently, but that would probably lead to someone’s untimely death – either murder or suicide.

You see, Mr. Magoo, is kind of like your great-uncle Roger.  He enjoys spending all of his time reminiscing about the good old days, asking the same questions over and over again, has no idea how technology works, and believes that clean clothes and showering are beneath him.  Ever been so sick that you had no energy to shower, and then one day you catch the smell of your own hair and immediately want to vomit?  That’s what Mr. Magoo smells like.

And the technology thing is so irritating.  Lord only knows how many times we’ve tried to explain the concept of facebook and twitter to him.  He just doesn’t get it, yet he keeps asking and asking and asking and asking.

This afternoon he asked if we had heard about the “new computer thing” that “that one guy” created that people were talking about.  “The iPad?” I asked.  He responded that he didn’t know what it was called.  “Is it the one by Apple?” I asked.  “Apple?  The fruit?  What are you talking about?” was his response.  I figured it would be easier if I pulled out my iPhone and tried to incorporate it in my explanation of the iPad.  Big mistake.

• Mr. Magoo: Is that your cellphone.
• Me: It’s my iPhone.
• Mr. Magoo:  I know it’s your phone.
• Me: What?
• Mr. Magoo: You just said it’s your phone.
• Me: No, I said it’s an iPhone.
• Mr. Magoo: Right, it’s your phone.

Next time I try to have a conversation with him about technology, promise me that you will bludgeon me if I do.

My Gift to You

I came across this picture while I was looking for pics of cellulite.

I couldn’t resist posting it.

You’re welcome.

An Important Question for All Humanity

Have you ever gone to the beach and seen a really fat guy in his trunks?  Usually, the guy is just massive and may or may not have a jiggly belly.  Compare that with a really big girl, and you’ll see that we, as women, are robbed.  Know what that woman probably has that the man doesn’t?  Cellulite.  Not only is the chick fat, but she probably has dimples in their thighs.

Have you ever seen a dude with dimples in his thighs?  No, you haven’t.  Know why?  Neither do I.

What’s that about?  Why do we have to get robbed with that?  Not only do we have to suffer with freaking cramps and practically bleeding to death every month, but we also have to deal with the visual delights of bumpy thighs.