Archive | June, 2010

20 Grams

14 Jun

Did you ever see that movie with Sean Penn, Benecio Del Toro, and Naomi Watts? No? Well, you didn’t miss much. Basically what you missed is that when you die, you instantly lose 20 grams. Perhaps that’s what one’s soul weighs. Who knows?

What I do know is that I need to die about 100 times over to lose the weight I have gained since I moved in with Boom Boom and Depeche Mode. Remember the Freshman 15? I’ve managed to gain the Philadelphia 15. I’m simply having too good of a time to care about what I eat.

Stop going out for dinner, you say. Screw you, that’s what I say.

Quit having Thirsty Thursdays or just cut back on the booze? How dare you! How very dare you!

This November we are all going away to Mexico for South Philly Fashionista’s wedding. You’d think that would be enough to dissuade me from eating/drinking everything in sight. You’d be wrong. Jersey Belle and I have decided that maybe what we need to do is have a little contest over who can gain the most weight. Yesterday I had peanut butter and banana french toast, booze, french fries with fried lobster, pork won tons, chicken tenders, half a hamburger, and fries. Just writing that out made me gain a pound. I am so going to kick her butt. Kick it hard.

Sadly, it looks like the world is against my big weight gain win. I just tried going to the cafeteria at Widgets & Co. to get some lunch – meatball sub, fries, soda. I stood around for 10 minutes waiting for someone to take my order. No one came. The only other option was a measly little side salad. Sad day for me, very sad. I’ll just have to settle for a granola bar and some damn fruit.

Guess I’ll just have to redouble my efforts tonight at dinner when I dine out…again.

I’m Not Greek But I Will Get Him to the Greek

11 Jun

Have you gone?  Have you seen the movie yet?  It’s good, very enjoyable for the people.  What’s even better is the music.  Believe it or not, it’s quite catchy.  I never in a million years would have thought that Russell Brand could carry a tune, but he’s quite good.  Rose Byrne (who you might recognize from Damages) has a set of pipes on her.

But don’t take my word for it, check it out for yourself.

I warn you right this very second, these are not safe for work.

Sometimes People Want to Be Beaten

9 Jun

I hate my cousins on my mother’s side.  I have for many, many years.  They have always had this air of superiority to them that I have never tolerated.  The last time I enjoyed being around them was when I was about seven years old.  One night my sister and I were staying at their house and we fell asleep.  My cousins are ten years older than we are and they thought it would be awesome if they drew on our faces…with permanent marker.  My sister was made into Dracula and I was made into Frankenstein.  I cried for 5 days, that’s how long it took for the pen to come off.  I’ve hated them ever since.

As we grew older, they stayed as self centered and entitled as they had always been.  When my grandmother died, they flew to Baltimore, but refused to stay at my apartment – they insisted on staying at a 5 star hotel.  On the day of the funeral, one of my cousins dressed like a whore, and the other one would tell people how close she and my grandmother had been.  So close that she hadn’t bothered to call my grandmother for months, and had rarely visited her when they lived in the same town.  I hated them.

We would hear from them sporadically after that, only when they needed something from my mother.  That was it.

Several months ago the calls started coming again.  My uncle was passing through a difficult time – his bitch wife who was a year older than my oldest cousin had decided to leave him.  He was left with nothing.  All of the money that he had once had – the money that had set them apart as the “rich side” of the family was gone – and he had no one to take care of them.  That’s when the phone calls started.  One of my cousins called my mother several times a day hoping my mom could help “sort out” the problem.  By “sorting out” she meant “financially support” my uncle.  My mother did it.

Last week he was walking his dog and he fell.  They found him unconscious on the floor.  Instead of taking him to the hospital when they saw that he was disoriented, they called my mom.  Then they refused to listen when she told him that they needed to take him to the hospital right away.  They waited 6 hours before finally taking him.  The doctors found two major skull fractures and 3 clots.  He could have died.

My cousins were frantic and panicky and they asked my mother to fly down to Mexico City.  She went.  She’s been there since the weekend, and once again they are treating her like shit.  My mother doesn’t think the doctor is doing enough, but my cousins refuse to switch doctors because they think he’s nice.  My mom is a doctor, she knows stuff, they won’t listen to her.  She got into a major fight with one of my cousins.  Screaming and yelling, and my cousin decided to throw a tantrum and thinks it’s best if she leaves to take a trip to the countryside, so she’s leaving my mom to tend to everything on her own.  One cousin lives in NYC but says he has an important meeting and can’t leave work.  The other cousin is too busy to show up.

When everything first happened with my uncle, I had a very distant attitude about the whole thing.  I feel sorry for him, but at the same time I feel that he had what was coming to him.  I don’t think that it’s my mom’s responsibility to jump in and start taking care of him.  When I told my mom this, she said that she was sad that she and I had a different idea of what family meant.  Maybe we do, but I would never treat anyone the way my cousins have been treating her.

It’s sad to say, but I know that when my mom and uncle are gone, that I will never speak to my cousins again.  Never again.  They say that blood is thicker than water, but their blood is poison.

I don’t know what the fuck to write…

6 Jun

Okay, so Boom here. Catherinette is so drunk she has been mixing soda with wine. She loves when we have broke night in, so she has an excuse to eat Ramin. She also loves eating spoiled food when she’s drunk. Food that has been sitting out for hours “will be okay”….um….no it won’t. Sorry.

Anyhoo, she’s drunk txting Claude and dumped out a whole bowl of potato chips on my table to see who made the bowl. She’s making listen to Gin Blossom’s right now.

I love love love drunk Catherinette.

Protected: Profile of the Weak: Philly’s Biggest Douche

3 Jun

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Swoonberries

2 Jun

It’s either the fantastic hair day I’m having or the fact that the girls have come out to play. One of those two is responsible for mr young secret boyfriend showing up at my desk. He attempted to convince me he needed help choosing a new format for a report, but I know better. There are 60 chicks around here and he chose to walk past six aisles to get to me. Forget that most if them are out at lunch. My opinions (boobs) matter to him.

Too bad I was reading an article on “Gothic Kittens” when be showed up at my desk. Could have been worse. This morning I walked around with a giant piece of blueberry stuck in my teeth. Thankfully, the other new girl told me. Otherwise hot guy would have definitely questioned my oral hygiene. That’s bad news bears right there. He’s never going to want to make out with me in the copy room if I have food in my teeth!!

Crisis averted.

Where Fat Whores Go To Die

2 Jun

I have found the place.  I really have.  Apparently, Philadelphia is a mecca for fat whores with bad taste.

No, that is not why I chose to move there.

It just so happens that the city of Philadelphia is welcoming me with open arms AND providing me with opportunities to mock.  Opportunities unlike Baltimore could possibly give me.  Sure, I miss the white trash dudes in long, white tank tops and jorts (jean shorts).  But how can I possibly not like Philly when it offers me something like this:

I’m not sure which I love more: the mullet or the back fat.  It’s really something.  The super crazy thing is that these two klassy ladies were dressed up.  Dressed up!!  I went to the Sex and the City release last Thursday with Boom Boom, Jersey Belle, and South Philly Fasionista.  It was pretty hilarious to see how some of the chicks at the movie had dressed up for the occasion.  It was like some of them pretended that they were actually in the movie.  Very unfortunate for them, but high mocking times for us.

Our favorite, by far, was not mullet girl.  Oh no, that chick had NOTHING on Nemo.

When we first spotted her during our uber fancy dinner at Pod, we laughed and laughed.  The poor whore walked in wearing a dress that was clearly not suited with her.  Along with this unflattering dress she carried a GIANT pink bag and a faded denim jacket from 1982.  Not attractive.  Upon closer inspection, we realized that her dress was COMPLETELY see through.  We had zero trouble seeing the gigantic granny panties she was wearing underneath.  The pink and white ones that matched her bag.

We spent most of dinner staring at her in utter horror and debating whether/not she had done that on purpose.  We also decided that none of the 20 girls sitting at her table were her friends.  She must have been a horrible person because no one mentioned to her that everyone could see everything that she was carrying underneath.

Everything.

God knows how we were able to stomach the entire meal.  Jersey Belle and I almost lost it when she bent down in front of us.  I see London, I see France.

Lucky for you, I took a pic.

The Things I do For You

1 Jun

And by “for you” I mean “in hopes of resetting that damn counter.”  People, I have reached new lows.  New lows of which I am so ashamed.  It’s that kind of shame that makes me want to slit open my wrists and drown in my own blood in the bathtub.  But if I do that, I won’t be able to watch tonight’s episode of Glee.

Anyway, the shameful act.  I have done something stupid: I have gone ahead and signed up with match.com again.

But you know what?  This time it’s going to be different.  It really is.  No longer will I just be bombarded with emails from guys like this.  Oh no!  This time around I have a good feeling about this whole thing.  My prince charming is out there, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’s within a 50 mile radius and he is waiting for me.  I was never going to find him in Baltimore because he has been here all along.

So, my dear friends, here we go again – back to jump into the dating pool!