So I haven’t written in a bit, and that’s probably b/c nothing has been very interesting or funny….and I’ve been in a “mood.” So why bore you with boring and crabby stuff. I mean really, you should thank me.
I accept cash and Tiffany’s!
Anyway, I’ve been working out in the mornings for the past two weeks. Yes, the mornings. As in 5 A.M!!!!!!I am averaging about 4 mornings a week and then later in the day on weekends. Monday’s and I don’t get along very well.
In order to get to the gym around 5ish, I have to set my alarm for 4:15 a.m. This allows me to hit snooze twice and get up at 4:45 and get ready. I also make sure to drink a LARGE class of water and eat a granola bar before I workout, as going without doing this the first time almost had me pashing out on the elliptical.
5 a.m. at the Lincoln Park Athletic Club (LPAC) is a very interesting time. There are about 5 other people there beside myself; however, there is ALWAYS someone on my favorite machine. Anyway, this workout leads to me being perky and full of energy until I get in my car and sit in traffic on the IKE. Once there, I am always 5 seconds from falling asleep while driving and in desperate need of coffee.
Doesn’t that make you feel safer about being on the outbound Eisenhower at 8:00 a.m?
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I hate telemarketers. Honestly. Not only do they bother me when I am trying to work or do more important things (like click around ESPN.com) but they just might be retarded. Oh wait, must be P.C…….fucking retarded. Ok that’s better.
We get a lot of these calls at my office.
Me: “good afternoon, Smith’s.”
Telemarketer: “yes, is Robert in?”
M: “Junior, Senior. or the third?”
T: “Robert Smith.”
M: “Robert Smith, Jr, Sr, or the third?”
T: “ROBERT SMITH please.” (because saying it louder answers my question.)
M: rolling eyes. “YES, I un-der-stand. I am ASKING you if you need Robert Smith JUNIOR, Robert Smith SENIOR or Robert Smith the THIRD! See there are three of them.”
T: “I am just looking for Robert Smith.”
M: “Um, we have no one in this office by that name.”
Click.
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The following is an example of why I love my friends and why my ass might end up in AA in the future.
A friend of mine has a neighbor who is a wine broker. So said friend will get daily drop offs of open bottles of wine from his neighbor.
This friend, whom I now love, has given me all five of the white wine bottles he had and said in the future the white wine is mine.
I pray to god no one comes over and opens the fridge anytime soon because they will see about 30 cans of beer, 10 bottles of beer, 5 OPEN bottles of wine, 2 closed bottles of wine and some liqueur stashed in the freezer.
Hi my name is Joanie…………………..
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Thursday, June 29, 2006
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Little Parrot BIG World
Have you ever seen the TLC show, Little People Big World? Its about a family consisting of a little mom, little dad, three “normal” kids and one little kid. (This is me trying to avoid the word midget.)
It’s a very interesting show and not as funny as I had thought it would be.
The title of the show has kind of turned into a new lingo for my friends and I. Mostly when we are out and about and see really really short people (guys), we’ll look at one another and go “little people BIG world.”
So the other day Sarah calls me and tells me she was listening to a morning show and someone called in about their deaf midget parrot with hemorrhoids:
Me: “are you serious?”
Sarah: “Yeah, this women has a midget parrot that is deaf and has hemorrhoids.”
Me: laughing way too much. “wow.”
Sarah: “I know, little parrot BIG world!”
OK, so maybe that wasn’t as funny to you, but at 7:45 a.m. stuck in traffic on the IKE, it’s hysterical.
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In case you were wondering, I can do an Irish Car Bomb in 3 seconds. Most people are amazed; Brett doesn’t understand how I am single.
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Some friends and I aw X-Men II the other night and I was reminded of two things:
1) Boys, no matter how old, are immature perverts. Point in case, the two I was with. Apparently, it is still funny to try and throw popcorn down a girl’s shirt. Yes boys, these are boobs and they make my tank top poke out a little. No, it is not a holding place for your popcorn.
2) Children should only be taken to children type movies. Now I love kids, but when it is 9:00 at night and I am paying a lot of money to see an adult movie…..constant talking and having my chair kicked for 1 ½ hrs is NOT what I paid for.
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As I walked up to my apartment Tuesday night at 11:59 p.m. the noise from the neighbors place was pretty loud. When I went o unlock the door their door busted open and some guys goes, “ABOUT DAMN TIME YOU GOT HERE!!!!!!”
Neighbor: “Dude, that’s our neighbor!”
Random drunk: “oh, hey!! Come on in and have a beer.”
Me: “Aw thanks, but I have to work tomorrow.”
RD: “Aww that sucks…we just graduated, so we’re drinking!”
Random Drunk #2: “GO STATE!!! GO GREEN!! GO WHITE!!!”
Me: “SPARTY ON!”
RD#2 “GO STATE!!! I love state!”
RD#1: “WHAT? We went to DePaul!!!
RD#2: “Yeah but they went to state!! GOOOOO STATE!”
RD#! “How do you know that?”
Neighbor: “They yell loudly at the TV during basketball season! Sorry, we’ll try to keep it down.”
Me: “nah, you just graduated. You’re not that loud, the base is…but I can sleep through anything.”
The neighbors are nice, but did get a tad loud throughout the night. Oh well, like I said I can sleep through anything.
Plus, the one drunk was a Spartan fan and had I not had to be at work the next day, I would have been right there with them.
It’s a very interesting show and not as funny as I had thought it would be.
The title of the show has kind of turned into a new lingo for my friends and I. Mostly when we are out and about and see really really short people (guys), we’ll look at one another and go “little people BIG world.”
So the other day Sarah calls me and tells me she was listening to a morning show and someone called in about their deaf midget parrot with hemorrhoids:
Me: “are you serious?”
Sarah: “Yeah, this women has a midget parrot that is deaf and has hemorrhoids.”
Me: laughing way too much. “wow.”
Sarah: “I know, little parrot BIG world!”
OK, so maybe that wasn’t as funny to you, but at 7:45 a.m. stuck in traffic on the IKE, it’s hysterical.
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In case you were wondering, I can do an Irish Car Bomb in 3 seconds. Most people are amazed; Brett doesn’t understand how I am single.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some friends and I aw X-Men II the other night and I was reminded of two things:
1) Boys, no matter how old, are immature perverts. Point in case, the two I was with. Apparently, it is still funny to try and throw popcorn down a girl’s shirt. Yes boys, these are boobs and they make my tank top poke out a little. No, it is not a holding place for your popcorn.
2) Children should only be taken to children type movies. Now I love kids, but when it is 9:00 at night and I am paying a lot of money to see an adult movie…..constant talking and having my chair kicked for 1 ½ hrs is NOT what I paid for.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I walked up to my apartment Tuesday night at 11:59 p.m. the noise from the neighbors place was pretty loud. When I went o unlock the door their door busted open and some guys goes, “ABOUT DAMN TIME YOU GOT HERE!!!!!!”
Neighbor: “Dude, that’s our neighbor!”
Random drunk: “oh, hey!! Come on in and have a beer.”
Me: “Aw thanks, but I have to work tomorrow.”
RD: “Aww that sucks…we just graduated, so we’re drinking!”
Random Drunk #2: “GO STATE!!! GO GREEN!! GO WHITE!!!”
Me: “SPARTY ON!”
RD#2 “GO STATE!!! I love state!”
RD#1: “WHAT? We went to DePaul!!!
RD#2: “Yeah but they went to state!! GOOOOO STATE!”
RD#! “How do you know that?”
Neighbor: “They yell loudly at the TV during basketball season! Sorry, we’ll try to keep it down.”
Me: “nah, you just graduated. You’re not that loud, the base is…but I can sleep through anything.”
The neighbors are nice, but did get a tad loud throughout the night. Oh well, like I said I can sleep through anything.
Plus, the one drunk was a Spartan fan and had I not had to be at work the next day, I would have been right there with them.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Tim Curry Gives me Nightmares
I was 9 years old (almost 10) when Steven King’s “It” came out on VHS.
My uncle, the baby sitting extraordinaire, was a little upset that his mouthy niece kept bugging him while he was trying to watch a movie. So instead of standing a firm ground and making me go to bed, he sat me on the couch and let me watch it with him.
Oh………my…….god……..
When you’re a guy in his late twenties “It” is the perfect movie to sit around and watch, but when you’re his 9 year old niece…it might be a little much.
(In case you don’t know, “It” is a movie about an evil clown that kills children. Thanks for haunting my dreams and freaking me out Tim Curry!!!)
So starts my horrible fear of clowns, and of course since I was terrified of them…..they were everywhere.
Every summer we went to the Berrien County Youth Fair in Michigan, and every year there were those damn clowns.
There were clowns at birthday parties, festivals and, of course, circuses.
Ok so I am older now, and it’s not as bad b/c my friends don’t have clowns at their parties anymore. (Stripping midgets, yes! Clowns, not so much.) Plus I have been going a very long time without having to see a clown in real life or pictures.
However, Monday night started about three days of hell in regards to my fear of clowns.
Let’s review:
Monday night the team went to Sluggers for batting practice. After words Pauly, Kate Dale and I went to Goose Island for a couple drinks.
Apparently Dale was in the circus for three years in college and has a clown suit. A CLOWN SUIT!
Well then it came out I was terrified of clowns and it became pick on Joanie night. By the end of the night not only had the creepy clown talk given me the freakies, but I am not convinced that Dale is planning a clown scare.
Moving on to Tuesday, and the day where not only did I receive emails with clown related material from Dale and Paul……but I saw one.
AAHHHHH!! Just thinking about it is making me feel all uneasy.
So I had to run next door to the Irish Restaurant / Pub to get my boss (he was having drinks with clients). I was in a hurry as he needed to get back to take a very important call.
I will admit, I probably shouldn’t have come through the door in the rush that I did…but none the less I did. As I rushed through (not looking) I bumped into someone. When I looked up to apologize I screamed b/c I had run into a CLOWN!!
Me: “AAAHHH”
Evil Clown from Hell: “Are you ok.”
Me: “Please don’t touch me.” (I look down to avoid having to stare at its freaky face.)
Clown Satan: “I’m sorry.”
Me: “nothing personal. I’m terrified of clowns and you’re kind of freaking me out.”
Clown laughing its creepy children killing clown laugh. “Yeah I get that, but clowns are SUPER FUN.”
Me: “I’m leaving now.”
Ok two things: 1) WHO has their child’s birthday party at an IRISH PUB! (ok…maaaaaaaaaaybeI will when I have kids.); and 2) WHY do parents think clowns are a good idea.
Oh yeah, clowns are super fun. You know who else thought clowns were great. JOHN WAYNE GACY!!! Yeah, the Guy who dressed up as a clown, kidnapped, raped and killed little boys! Yeah, that’s super fun.
When you Google John Wayne Gacy, you get an article called “John Wayne Gacy: The Clown that Killed.” When you GIS Gacy, you get pictures of him dressed up like a clown. I am currently using my diet crack as a chaser for the zanex.
All this clown fun was added to when I was checking me email today. See if you have gmail, you can add a picture to your profile that will pop up when you put your cursor over a name.
Apparently, Pauly thought it would be fun to add one of the SCARIEST CLOWN PICTURES EVER to his profile.
It scared the living hell out of me today. Thanks Pauly, please go back to the damn cat pictures.
I am now beyond freaked out and am currently fighting the urge to go sit in a corner, rock back and forth mumbling “Jesus Save.”
Yeah, they freak me out that much.
My uncle, the baby sitting extraordinaire, was a little upset that his mouthy niece kept bugging him while he was trying to watch a movie. So instead of standing a firm ground and making me go to bed, he sat me on the couch and let me watch it with him.
Oh………my…….god……..
When you’re a guy in his late twenties “It” is the perfect movie to sit around and watch, but when you’re his 9 year old niece…it might be a little much.
(In case you don’t know, “It” is a movie about an evil clown that kills children. Thanks for haunting my dreams and freaking me out Tim Curry!!!)
So starts my horrible fear of clowns, and of course since I was terrified of them…..they were everywhere.
Every summer we went to the Berrien County Youth Fair in Michigan, and every year there were those damn clowns.
There were clowns at birthday parties, festivals and, of course, circuses.
Ok so I am older now, and it’s not as bad b/c my friends don’t have clowns at their parties anymore. (Stripping midgets, yes! Clowns, not so much.) Plus I have been going a very long time without having to see a clown in real life or pictures.
However, Monday night started about three days of hell in regards to my fear of clowns.
Let’s review:
Monday night the team went to Sluggers for batting practice. After words Pauly, Kate Dale and I went to Goose Island for a couple drinks.
Apparently Dale was in the circus for three years in college and has a clown suit. A CLOWN SUIT!
Well then it came out I was terrified of clowns and it became pick on Joanie night. By the end of the night not only had the creepy clown talk given me the freakies, but I am not convinced that Dale is planning a clown scare.
Moving on to Tuesday, and the day where not only did I receive emails with clown related material from Dale and Paul……but I saw one.
AAHHHHH!! Just thinking about it is making me feel all uneasy.
So I had to run next door to the Irish Restaurant / Pub to get my boss (he was having drinks with clients). I was in a hurry as he needed to get back to take a very important call.
I will admit, I probably shouldn’t have come through the door in the rush that I did…but none the less I did. As I rushed through (not looking) I bumped into someone. When I looked up to apologize I screamed b/c I had run into a CLOWN!!
Me: “AAAHHH”
Evil Clown from Hell: “Are you ok.”
Me: “Please don’t touch me.” (I look down to avoid having to stare at its freaky face.)
Clown Satan: “I’m sorry.”
Me: “nothing personal. I’m terrified of clowns and you’re kind of freaking me out.”
Clown laughing its creepy children killing clown laugh. “Yeah I get that, but clowns are SUPER FUN.”
Me: “I’m leaving now.”
Ok two things: 1) WHO has their child’s birthday party at an IRISH PUB! (ok…maaaaaaaaaaybeI will when I have kids.); and 2) WHY do parents think clowns are a good idea.
Oh yeah, clowns are super fun. You know who else thought clowns were great. JOHN WAYNE GACY!!! Yeah, the Guy who dressed up as a clown, kidnapped, raped and killed little boys! Yeah, that’s super fun.
When you Google John Wayne Gacy, you get an article called “John Wayne Gacy: The Clown that Killed.” When you GIS Gacy, you get pictures of him dressed up like a clown. I am currently using my diet crack as a chaser for the zanex.
All this clown fun was added to when I was checking me email today. See if you have gmail, you can add a picture to your profile that will pop up when you put your cursor over a name.
Apparently, Pauly thought it would be fun to add one of the SCARIEST CLOWN PICTURES EVER to his profile.
It scared the living hell out of me today. Thanks Pauly, please go back to the damn cat pictures.
I am now beyond freaked out and am currently fighting the urge to go sit in a corner, rock back and forth mumbling “Jesus Save.”
Yeah, they freak me out that much.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Scandal at the Malibu Beach House
I used to wonder what my toys would be like if they were alive. (Hey, I was 5!)
Anyway, the other day on the train I got a glimpse into what Skipper (Barbie’s “sister”) would be like if she were real.
So I am on the train and it’s about to leave for suburbia hell when Skipper and her greasy looking boyfriend walk into the rear facing double seat 5 rows in front of where I was. I wish I could have taken a picture without her knowing, but alas you will have to make do with my description.
She was about 5’5 and thin with stringy bleach blond hair. I mean, we who die our hair know it can get a little dried out, but come on, that’s why god invented conditioner.
On to her clothes. She had on one of those flowery peasant tops that hung on her body funny and a bright green tank top underneath. As great as the rainbow visor she was wearing was, it could not compare to the rainbow knee socks and pink shoes with purple laces. This was all held together by the acid washed skirt she had on that would be indecent for my 5 year old cousin. I almost forgot, she had a Rainbow Bright purse and was sucking on a lollypop.
Honestly, at first I thought I had brushed my teeth with cocaine that morning and this was all a horrible hallucination.
So of course, knowing me, I could not stop staring.
Her boyfriend on the other is the type of guy who makes K-Fed look like George Clooney.
If Skipper were to have an E! True Hollywood Story, I imagine the narration would go something like this:
Skipper’s life was going very swimmingly until the day her sister, Barbie, told her something that would shatter her life as she knew it. Yes, Barbie told Skipper that she was not her sister. No, Skipper was the love child of a wild night at the Malibu Beach House with Ken.
Skipper left the world she knew and entered into a world of drugs, booze, men and really bad clothes. She questioned her existence, and was sickened by her memories of her childhood crushes on Ken.
She sold her body for money and hitch hiked her way from Malibu to Chicago. Once there she moved in with her dealer Snakebite. Upon his insistence she got a snake bite tattoo on her neck.
Skipper and Snakebite would ride the Metra Train from the city to the suburbs in order to cool down in the summer and warm up in the winter as their crack house didn’t have central heat or air.
It was one of these times when Snakebite was sleeping on her shoulder that Skipper stared out the window and remembered her life when she was truly happy and clean.
Maaaaaaaaaybe I got a little carried away there, but that was what stuck in my head when I saw this train wreck.
Although I shouldn’t be too surprised, I mean you see real life He-Mans and She-Ras every Friday and Saturday night in Boystown.
Anyway, the other day on the train I got a glimpse into what Skipper (Barbie’s “sister”) would be like if she were real.
So I am on the train and it’s about to leave for suburbia hell when Skipper and her greasy looking boyfriend walk into the rear facing double seat 5 rows in front of where I was. I wish I could have taken a picture without her knowing, but alas you will have to make do with my description.
She was about 5’5 and thin with stringy bleach blond hair. I mean, we who die our hair know it can get a little dried out, but come on, that’s why god invented conditioner.
On to her clothes. She had on one of those flowery peasant tops that hung on her body funny and a bright green tank top underneath. As great as the rainbow visor she was wearing was, it could not compare to the rainbow knee socks and pink shoes with purple laces. This was all held together by the acid washed skirt she had on that would be indecent for my 5 year old cousin. I almost forgot, she had a Rainbow Bright purse and was sucking on a lollypop.
Honestly, at first I thought I had brushed my teeth with cocaine that morning and this was all a horrible hallucination.
So of course, knowing me, I could not stop staring.
Her boyfriend on the other is the type of guy who makes K-Fed look like George Clooney.
If Skipper were to have an E! True Hollywood Story, I imagine the narration would go something like this:
Skipper’s life was going very swimmingly until the day her sister, Barbie, told her something that would shatter her life as she knew it. Yes, Barbie told Skipper that she was not her sister. No, Skipper was the love child of a wild night at the Malibu Beach House with Ken.
Skipper left the world she knew and entered into a world of drugs, booze, men and really bad clothes. She questioned her existence, and was sickened by her memories of her childhood crushes on Ken.
She sold her body for money and hitch hiked her way from Malibu to Chicago. Once there she moved in with her dealer Snakebite. Upon his insistence she got a snake bite tattoo on her neck.
Skipper and Snakebite would ride the Metra Train from the city to the suburbs in order to cool down in the summer and warm up in the winter as their crack house didn’t have central heat or air.
It was one of these times when Snakebite was sleeping on her shoulder that Skipper stared out the window and remembered her life when she was truly happy and clean.
Maaaaaaaaaybe I got a little carried away there, but that was what stuck in my head when I saw this train wreck.
Although I shouldn’t be too surprised, I mean you see real life He-Mans and She-Ras every Friday and Saturday night in Boystown.
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