Archive | 8:53 pm

Did I Ever Tell You About the Time

16 Mar

…where I slept with somebody else the morning of my first official date with 3D?


Must have slipped my mind.

Breaking News!

16 Mar

Someone has stolen my white out!!  I am angry!  I need to use it RIGHT NOW and it’s fucking GONE!.

Why, dear bastard, would you steal my white out?  WHY?

God damn it.  Now I have to get up from my desk, walk 30 feet, and go get a new thing of white out.

I’m so mad.

When Drunk Tools Attack

16 Mar

In an attempt to balance out my “old maid” behavior of seeing Riverdance on Saturday, I decided to brave the St. Patrick’s day drunkards and meet Jewcy Bits out for some drinks yesterday afternoon. By the time I arrived in Canton, most everyone in the bar was 3 sheets to the wind. Probably because they had all gone directly from their beds into the bar. I’m pleased to announce that my “old maid” actions were completely cancelled out as I was drinking beer straight out of the pitcher within 2 minutes of walking into the bar. Not something I typically do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I don’t make it a habit to go to bars in sneakers and frumpy clothes, but I made an exception yesterday. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. The nice thing about walking into a crowd of drunks is that no one seemed to notice that I was dressed like someone’s mother. In fact, they didn’t even notice that I wasn’t wearing a stitch of green either.

Here’s something else people didn’t seem to notice: the fact that I was far more sober than most of the other people there. Case in point: in the middle of mocking an important conversation with Jewcy Bits, some drunkard stumbled over our way and said to me, “Have you met my friend, Drunk A-hole with Zero Personality?” and then stumbled away. 30 seconds later, Jewcy Bits backed away and left me standing there with Drunk A-hole with Zero Personality (DAwZP). Thanks, Jewcy Bits. No, really.

The world’s lamest conversation day ensued.

DAwZP: Hi.
Me: Hello. [awkward silence ensues] I’m Catherinette.
DAwZP: Hi.
Me: Hello.
DAwZP: I didn’t hear you.
DAwZP: Nice to meet you. I still can’t year you.
Me: It’s because you’re too tall. [DAwZP stoops and I yell in his ear] CATHERINETTE!!
DAwZP: Hello.
Me: Hi.
[more awkward silence]
Me: You play football?
DAwZP: Yeah.  I’m here with my team. [waves to a bunch of guys that are standing around in a circle dancing and singing to one another]
Me: Your friends are gay.
DAwZP: What? [cups his ear and leans forward]
DAwZP: Yeah. [stares at my boobs]
Me: So, how long have you been here.
DAwZP: What’s that?
Me: What time did you get here?
DAwZP: I can’t hear you.
DAwZP: What time did I get here?
Me: YES?
DAwZP: 11:30.
Me: That’s nice.
DAwZP: What was that?
Me: Fuck this, I’m out.

People if you’re going to attempt to hit on someone, at least have something to say.

Later on we saw DAwZP hanging out by the garbage can near the ladies room.  Poor bastard was drooling all over the place and just about to throw up all over himself and anyone standing nearby. 

How could I have let that catch slip through my fingers…? 

I’d Like to Riverdance All Over Your Stupid Mouth

16 Mar

Being the awesome swinging single that I am, I spent Saturday afternoon at Riverdance with my mother, Simone, and my Pink Eye. It was our 3rd time seeing it. I’m so cool. No, really. Why would someone as cool as I am still be single?

I’m going to need you to play along with me that it’s a fun thing to do with a Saturday afternoon. Go ahead and check reality at the door. Just do me this one favor, okay? Great.

Anyway, we had great seats and were all set for being wowed by all those international dancers flailing about the stage. I knew there was going to be a problem the second that someone walked by me and I got a whiff of a cheap motel bedcover. You know the smell I’m talking about. It’s that toxic combination of generic soap, stale cigarettes, and a little mystery something-and it’s nauseating. As it turns out, the horrific stench was the least offensive thing about the woman that stomped all over our feet as she made her way to her seat-right next to my mother’s. As the 70-something loud mouth (with terrible plastic surgery that made Joan Rivers look young and attractive) settled into her seat, the talking began…and continued through the entire show.

We were sitting in the front row of the Grand Suites, and had a perfect view of the entire stage. Meanwhile, Joan Rivers’ Mother was peeved because she originally had front row seats which she had to give up because her husband didn’t want to have to look up. She was upset because she couldn’t “see their faces.” The last time I checked, the whole point of Riverdance was watching them dance, not to look at their facial expressions. “OH MY GOD! I CAN’T BELIEVE I LIVED TO SEE THIS,” she would say. “WE COULD HAVE SAT IN THE FRONT SEAT. I CAN’T SEE THEIR FACES ALL THE WAY UP HERE,” she kept shouting saying. Then she’d point all the way to the right hand side of the theatre to 2 empty seats with a blocked view of the stage, “THOSE COULD HAVE BEEN OURS.” My mother turned to her and told her to quiet down, and she did, in her own world. She turned the volume one notch and kept on talking. The. Whole. Entire. Time. She didn’t shut her mouth at all. She treated us to such gems as:

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