So out of boredom and knowing if you're reading this you must be bored / insane, I am going to start adding funny conversations I have with my friends on the blog.
Chances are it will be a lot of me and erica or me and dave.
Chances are I'll do this about three times before I forget. You know, they caught the dyslexia you would think they would have caught the ADD top. hmmmm
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BACK STORY: Erica and my sister, Allie, will be roommates come August at good old Northern Illinois. Erica is a clean freak with a post-it addiction (remind me to blog about erica and I as house managers and our post its) and Allie is messy. Erica and I are discussing this over the AIM today.
E: what are you up to
J: I told my mom u were going to pile allies stuff up and post it things when she gets messy
E: LOL
E: things like Sophie
J: my mom said to go buy a couple pounds of post its
E: bahahaha!!
J: ull need them for the first week
E: poor allie
E: I think we're going to have risky business cleaning day
E: we'll put on sunglasses and blast music and clean in our underwear
J: omg
J: don't tempt her
J: she loves being naked
E: she'll love it
E: LMAO
E: see, I know her already
J: when she was little she used to undress ni the grocery store
J: my mom never wanted to take her anywhere
E: hahahahah!!!
J: she was like walking talking kiddy porn
~~hope you understand AIM language. If not, oh well...I don;t care. I am sure you can figure this out for yourself.
~~More to come.....wonder if you find this as funny as we did, and by we i mean myself and the voices in my head.
wooooooooooo
Friday, May 26, 2006
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
She's a Catcher
As promised here is the softball recap:
We’re not as good as the Sox but not as bad as the Cubs, and amazingly no one was seriously injured. More importantly, I wasn’t maimed.
We were terrible during the first game (we had a double header) but better for the second. However, we lost both.
So you know how I said this would update you on the softball progress, well I lied. I realized that unless we win or someone gets hurt or I do something stupid….this won’t be funny to write about.
However, if someone on the team with a digital camera (KAAAAAAAAAATE) brings it next time……maybe we can have pics.
OH!!!!!! I do have something! So I lost my glove and had to buy a new one. Well….I am not one to spend $80.00 on a glove b/c I obviously lose them AND the bog ones are to big for my hand.
So I buy a $30.00 glove, which is a glove for an eight year old. Yep, I am now the proud owner of a PINK and black baseball glove that is meant for a child. Oh yeah….big leagues here I come…………..
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In related news:
My friendship with Dave is completely wrong. There is something not right with us. I mean, just listening to us talk and you wonder when the nice men in the white lab coats are coming to administer the shots.
Baseball conversation:
Me: “Damn, my inner thighs are sore from being a catcher. We had a double header.”
Dave: ::Laughing uncontrollably:: “NEVER say that to a gay man.”
Me: “What? OH EW. You’re an asshole.
Basketball conversation:
I just get done explaining to Dave about the NBA draft and why if some players can’t go first round they go back to college.
Dave: “Um……can you gay it up for me.”
Me: “Sure, the difference between 1st round draft and the rest is like the difference in a Burka Bag and Target.”
Dave: “See that’s all you had to do. Make it about shopping.”
Hockey:
I get done ranting and raving about a couple things.
Dave: “You know you only like hockey b/c you like the though of getting roughed up by a big burley man”
Last night I was at the gym when Dave called and we had this short conversation:
Me: “I’m working out and watching Sports Center.”
Dave: “You are every straight guys dream, you know that.”
Me: “Yeah, and you’re every straight girls dream. We can bring you to weddings/formals and pass you off as straight. Then the next day take you shopping.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dave came to my cousin’s wedding with me. We apparently looked like the next happy couple to walk down the isle. (minus the making out or any signs of sexual love…but whatever)
A couple days later I ran into my other cousin:
T: “Joanie, we all thought you and Dave looked great together. Aunt Shelly was saying you were next, but then your dad said that Dave was gay!?”
Me: “Ohhh…yeah. Dave’s not gay.”
T: “But you daa….”
M: “Yeah, I just told him that b/c Dave and I are sleeping together. Catch you later!”
Needless to say that was a blatant lie, but it was have my family thinking I was a slut or a fag hag. I would rather be a slut.
So kiddies….even though Will & Grace is over, you’ll still get some comedic Queer/Funny girl action here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally………………
I am trying to kick the diet crack habbit. I am becoming to dependant on it. I’m like a crack head.
Diet Crack Detox is going to be hard….but I am committed. I’ve already gone so far. This is day 2. I foresee an uphill struggle.
We’re not as good as the Sox but not as bad as the Cubs, and amazingly no one was seriously injured. More importantly, I wasn’t maimed.
We were terrible during the first game (we had a double header) but better for the second. However, we lost both.
So you know how I said this would update you on the softball progress, well I lied. I realized that unless we win or someone gets hurt or I do something stupid….this won’t be funny to write about.
However, if someone on the team with a digital camera (KAAAAAAAAAATE) brings it next time……maybe we can have pics.
OH!!!!!! I do have something! So I lost my glove and had to buy a new one. Well….I am not one to spend $80.00 on a glove b/c I obviously lose them AND the bog ones are to big for my hand.
So I buy a $30.00 glove, which is a glove for an eight year old. Yep, I am now the proud owner of a PINK and black baseball glove that is meant for a child. Oh yeah….big leagues here I come…………..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In related news:
My friendship with Dave is completely wrong. There is something not right with us. I mean, just listening to us talk and you wonder when the nice men in the white lab coats are coming to administer the shots.
Baseball conversation:
Me: “Damn, my inner thighs are sore from being a catcher. We had a double header.”
Dave: ::Laughing uncontrollably:: “NEVER say that to a gay man.”
Me: “What? OH EW. You’re an asshole.
Basketball conversation:
I just get done explaining to Dave about the NBA draft and why if some players can’t go first round they go back to college.
Dave: “Um……can you gay it up for me.”
Me: “Sure, the difference between 1st round draft and the rest is like the difference in a Burka Bag and Target.”
Dave: “See that’s all you had to do. Make it about shopping.”
Hockey:
I get done ranting and raving about a couple things.
Dave: “You know you only like hockey b/c you like the though of getting roughed up by a big burley man”
Last night I was at the gym when Dave called and we had this short conversation:
Me: “I’m working out and watching Sports Center.”
Dave: “You are every straight guys dream, you know that.”
Me: “Yeah, and you’re every straight girls dream. We can bring you to weddings/formals and pass you off as straight. Then the next day take you shopping.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dave came to my cousin’s wedding with me. We apparently looked like the next happy couple to walk down the isle. (minus the making out or any signs of sexual love…but whatever)
A couple days later I ran into my other cousin:
T: “Joanie, we all thought you and Dave looked great together. Aunt Shelly was saying you were next, but then your dad said that Dave was gay!?”
Me: “Ohhh…yeah. Dave’s not gay.”
T: “But you daa….”
M: “Yeah, I just told him that b/c Dave and I are sleeping together. Catch you later!”
Needless to say that was a blatant lie, but it was have my family thinking I was a slut or a fag hag. I would rather be a slut.
So kiddies….even though Will & Grace is over, you’ll still get some comedic Queer/Funny girl action here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally………………
I am trying to kick the diet crack habbit. I am becoming to dependant on it. I’m like a crack head.
Diet Crack Detox is going to be hard….but I am committed. I’ve already gone so far. This is day 2. I foresee an uphill struggle.
Friday, May 19, 2006
I need to get more sleep.......
So a couple funny things have happened or been said and I keep thinking “wow…that is going to be soooo funny for the blog.”
By the time I get to “blogging” I have forgotten what the hell was so funny.
Which brings me to two conclusions, 1) apparently the side affect of being the wonderful is total memory loss and 2) I have turned into a giant dork b/c when funny things happen I think about writing it down on a blog.
So for your enjoyment, random things happening in my life/mind:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kate and I went to a roof top Cubbies games yesterday. It was a LOT of fun….good food, fun view, etc. The only problem was there was some creepies there. They were three old guys (like our dad’s age) hitting on us. CREEEEEPPPYYY. Did they not realize we were young enough to be their daughters?
I can’t talk about this anymore….I’ll want to shower again. ICK ICK ICK.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the game, Kate and I were talking about random things and one of the topics was of someone we know.
Kate: “I remember him being scrawny/skinny.”
Me: “Nope….there’s something under there, and it’s not fat.”
Kate starts laughing and laughing. I DID NOT MEAN THAT!!! Kate is a pervert. I did NOT mean that. I meant he’s been working out……she’s a sicko…I don’t know if I can associate with people like that. After all, I am a good catholic girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve gotten some pretty interesting responses to my wedding date entry. I would like to thank everybody who has offered to be my date.
You all are so sweet. Really, but it looks like my “hetro-girl date” to Nicole’s wedding is going to be Nicole’s Cousin Kelly. She’s a loyal blog reader and is obviously on some sort of mind altering drugs b/c not only does she find me funny but she actually is looking forward to meeting me.
I’m a little nervous about this whole situation. I mean what if I don’t live up to standards?
Kinda of like when your friends set you up with this “AMAZING Guy", and in walks the younger version of Danny DaVito.
Maybe I am not as cool and funny as Nicole and this blog have made me sound?? The anxiety is going to kill me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Apparently this is the current state of my love life
Did you ever notice that when you hit a certain age and your single people start to make it their mission to get you hitched?
No? OH WELL! You lucky bastard., b/c due to my friends getting married a lot of my cousins being married….some people are concerned about my status.
My aunts ask ALL THE TIME and my boss’s friend’s want to set me up with people they know.
My mom doesn’t want me to rush things, but she certainly has her opinions on who is a good catch.
My worst critic is a 6 yr old. She really wants me married off b/c she wants to be a flower girl. Amongst her points of why I must get married are the following:
~~She’s not getting any younger
~~I definitely am not getting any younger
~~“You’re already soooo old….”
~~She wants to wear a pretty dress
~~I need to have babies
~~Boys don’t want to marry old ladies
Does anyone else see a theme here?? I don’t know what’s worse….my crazy aunt telling me that all the good guys go fast or a 6 yr old telling me if I don’t do it now I’ll end up dieing alone! (ok she didn’t say that but the little know-it-all was hinting at that)
I don’t think these people have anything to worry about. We all know I’ll end up that crazy lady on the end of the block with the 20 cats and 15 dogs…..warning all the young people of the dangers of country music. (Normally they say rap music…..but we all know I am in touch with my gangster side)
Ok well…I’m done for now…maybe something funny will happen later today. If not, oh well……go entertain yourselves for a change and stop putting that pressure on me!!!!
By the time I get to “blogging” I have forgotten what the hell was so funny.
Which brings me to two conclusions, 1) apparently the side affect of being the wonderful is total memory loss and 2) I have turned into a giant dork b/c when funny things happen I think about writing it down on a blog.
So for your enjoyment, random things happening in my life/mind:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kate and I went to a roof top Cubbies games yesterday. It was a LOT of fun….good food, fun view, etc. The only problem was there was some creepies there. They were three old guys (like our dad’s age) hitting on us. CREEEEEPPPYYY. Did they not realize we were young enough to be their daughters?
I can’t talk about this anymore….I’ll want to shower again. ICK ICK ICK.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the game, Kate and I were talking about random things and one of the topics was of someone we know.
Kate: “I remember him being scrawny/skinny.”
Me: “Nope….there’s something under there, and it’s not fat.”
Kate starts laughing and laughing. I DID NOT MEAN THAT!!! Kate is a pervert. I did NOT mean that. I meant he’s been working out……she’s a sicko…I don’t know if I can associate with people like that. After all, I am a good catholic girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve gotten some pretty interesting responses to my wedding date entry. I would like to thank everybody who has offered to be my date.
You all are so sweet. Really, but it looks like my “hetro-girl date” to Nicole’s wedding is going to be Nicole’s Cousin Kelly. She’s a loyal blog reader and is obviously on some sort of mind altering drugs b/c not only does she find me funny but she actually is looking forward to meeting me.
I’m a little nervous about this whole situation. I mean what if I don’t live up to standards?
Kinda of like when your friends set you up with this “AMAZING Guy", and in walks the younger version of Danny DaVito.
Maybe I am not as cool and funny as Nicole and this blog have made me sound?? The anxiety is going to kill me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Apparently this is the current state of my love life
Did you ever notice that when you hit a certain age and your single people start to make it their mission to get you hitched?
No? OH WELL! You lucky bastard., b/c due to my friends getting married a lot of my cousins being married….some people are concerned about my status.
My aunts ask ALL THE TIME and my boss’s friend’s want to set me up with people they know.
My mom doesn’t want me to rush things, but she certainly has her opinions on who is a good catch.
My worst critic is a 6 yr old. She really wants me married off b/c she wants to be a flower girl. Amongst her points of why I must get married are the following:
~~She’s not getting any younger
~~I definitely am not getting any younger
~~“You’re already soooo old….”
~~She wants to wear a pretty dress
~~I need to have babies
~~Boys don’t want to marry old ladies
Does anyone else see a theme here?? I don’t know what’s worse….my crazy aunt telling me that all the good guys go fast or a 6 yr old telling me if I don’t do it now I’ll end up dieing alone! (ok she didn’t say that but the little know-it-all was hinting at that)
I don’t think these people have anything to worry about. We all know I’ll end up that crazy lady on the end of the block with the 20 cats and 15 dogs…..warning all the young people of the dangers of country music. (Normally they say rap music…..but we all know I am in touch with my gangster side)
Ok well…I’m done for now…maybe something funny will happen later today. If not, oh well……go entertain yourselves for a change and stop putting that pressure on me!!!!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
The Should Sell Beer at These Games
This weekend marks the second season of my softball career. As excited as I am, I have to admit that the dangers from last season have me a little scared.
Last year I knew the season was off to an interesting start when Roommate and I went to buy our gloves.
As you might have noticed, I mentioned that we’re playing SOFTBALL……roommate and I bought baseball gloves. BASEBALL. If that wasn’t bad enough…..I think my glove is meant for a kid. It’s kind of small, but see….the other ones wouldn’t fit my hand. They kept falling off. So I played all last softball season with a kiddy sized baseball glove. Yeah I rock!
Some other highlights from last season:
~I wore my sunglasses ALL the time. We’re talking while batting, in the outfield and while playing catcher. I’d like to say it was b/c its always so sunny in Chicago, but really it’s b/c most of our games were before noon and I was hung over.
~While in right field……I did a whole lot of nothing.
~If I didn’t strike out I was walked. I might have hit the ball about 3 times. I was hit by the ball about 2,000 times.
~For whatever reason in softball, if the pitcher walks a male member on the team, the female right after him can choose to walk. Kate chose to hit, I always walked.
~I made one great play. It was at our 9 a.m. game, and I might have still been drunk. For whatever reason I was about 3 feet behind second base, sunglasses on and zoning out. I heard the bat hit the ball and then looked up in time to see the ball flying in my direction. I closed my eyes, screamed and stuck my glove out. Amazingly I wasn’t killed, but I CAUGHT IT!!! The feat was never repeated.
~For whatever reason I was moved into the catcher’s position. This was all fine and dandy until someone threw down their bat and it hit me in the ankle.
~The next weekend the ball jumped out of my glove and into the throat. The ump told me I wouldn’t be able to talk for a bit…..I was more worried about not being able to BREATH!!!
~The following Saturday some giant guy (about 5’11’’ and 300 lbs) decided he would try to steal home. Someone threw me the ball, I caught it and went to tag him……cue him barreling into me and elbowing me in the throat. I don’t know what hurt worse. The elbow to the throat, the fall or the fact a 300 lbs monster just ran me over in a NONCOMPETITIVE softball game. Thus ending my career as the team’s catcher.
~The following inning I offered to be short stop and tripped his fat ass as it “ran” by.
~I spent the whole “season” referring to the Umpires as referees. Once time I even called one a linesmen. At first my team tried to correct me…..by the end they just ignored me.
OK, I realize I am coming off as one of those dumb blonds, but I am not. If this were flag football I would be kicking ass, but no one will play flag football with me.
I just am not a good baseball player, and signed up to have a fun time. I might be better this year as I don’t drink as much as I used to and won’t be hung over as much. However, all my best plays were done when I was at my worst.
This year should be a lot more fun as most of the team members are my friends and get the fact that I am a sarcastic asshole. They’ll appreciate the jokes and comments I make, and won’t question why I will be standing in right field with my sunglasses and pink sweatband on.
Don’t worry…..I’ll provide pics, if someone brings a camera. God knows they are going to be priceless!
Oh and one more thing. I am taking a survey on the first injury. Kayla thinks it’s going to be a black eye, while Brett is betting on me tripping on the way to first base.
Friday, May 12, 2006
The Wedding Date
Well kiddies, it’s the time of year again…..yes Wedding Season!!!
While I am not as thrilled about it as the Wedding Crashers guys were (I don't crash weddings to get laid), I am still happy to see my friends and family embark on this new trip in life. (Yeah THAT was lame wasn’t it!)
Out of the 6 or 7 weddings I have this summer I will be attending 4 of them, and out of those 4 I am actually in 1 of them. (hmm wonder who that could be??)
So the next question I have to ask myself is this, “Do I bring a date?”
This is a simple NO to two of the weddings as I am already the “date.” The first one is Roommate’s brother’s wedding. Roommate’s mom invited myself and Sarah to Ben’s wedding and therefore we are kind of being Roommate’s date since she is not bringing one.
In July I will be attending a wedding in Michigan to be Dave’s wedding “date.” This will be fun b/c Dave and I are assholes, and like alcohol and pain killers……we’re fun alone but when you mix us…we’re a WILD time!!!
At first I told him to he should bring one of his gay friends (shake up things a bit), b/c while Dave’s home friends know he is gay the other people in the small town might just die if he were to bring another guy. Now THAT would be fun to watch!
Although they should be fine with it, because even though his small town is no San Francisco…...they do have a LOT of guys in cowboy attire. You can’t tell me that Dave is the only mo to come out of the place.
According to my lovely date…..we’ll probably be a little over dressed, as the reception hall will have more dead animal heads on the walls then guests in the chairs.
Now we’re down to two:
As far as Erin’s wedding goes. Erica and I already decided to go together in order to save on gas / hotel / etc. So it is a little late in the game to bring a third party into this. Plus, Eric’s fiancé is in the army…and since she can’t bring him….I’ll go stag to keep her company.
So that leaves us with Nicole’s wedding. The wedding I am actually in and I ask myself….do I want to bring a date??
How do you approach someone with that question?
“Hey, want to be my date to a wedding?”
Unsuspecting Guy: “Sure.”
Me: “Now since I am in it, you’re going to have to drive alone to the church. Sit alone, drive alone to the reception, sit at a table with people you might not know, and basically be ignored by me until after dinner.”
U.G.: “Gee golly Joanie…..that sounds like fun!”
I guess I could bring Dave since I am going to a wedding with him, but do I really want to be known as the girl who brings a gay guy to weddings. Wait, let me rephrase that…..the SAD PATHETIC bridesmaid who could only dig up a gay guy for a wedding date.
Um no. Anyway, I think my family already thinks that after my cousin’s wedding two years ago that Dave attended. Why bring that baggage into Chicago!
The there’s the thought that well if I bring no one I can scam on the straight single attractive guys at the wedding. But I know some single guys coming, and as nice as they are….they’re not really my type.
Plus I think Nicole has mentioned a time or two about this being her wedding and NOT an episode of Blind Date. But maybe that only counted for the groomsmen…..hmmmmmm…..
OH OH!!! I GOT IT!!! Maybe I could hire someone like Deborah Messing does with Dermont Mulroney in the Wedding Date! Yeah there’s an idea…a hot fun guy all mine for the night.
Ugg..nooo…..even if I did do that I could NEVER afford someone hot like Dermot Mulroney. I would have to go to the discount escort serves and end up getting someone like the kid from Napoleon Dynamite.
Oh well, we’ll see. Some of those people thought I was a lesbian in high school, so maybe I’ll bring Kayla and let them keep thinking that.
No…..Nicole would kill me….b/c if the wedding is not Blind Date….it sure the hell isn’t Girls Gone Wild!
While I am not as thrilled about it as the Wedding Crashers guys were (I don't crash weddings to get laid), I am still happy to see my friends and family embark on this new trip in life. (Yeah THAT was lame wasn’t it!)
Out of the 6 or 7 weddings I have this summer I will be attending 4 of them, and out of those 4 I am actually in 1 of them. (hmm wonder who that could be??)
So the next question I have to ask myself is this, “Do I bring a date?”
This is a simple NO to two of the weddings as I am already the “date.” The first one is Roommate’s brother’s wedding. Roommate’s mom invited myself and Sarah to Ben’s wedding and therefore we are kind of being Roommate’s date since she is not bringing one.
In July I will be attending a wedding in Michigan to be Dave’s wedding “date.” This will be fun b/c Dave and I are assholes, and like alcohol and pain killers……we’re fun alone but when you mix us…we’re a WILD time!!!
At first I told him to he should bring one of his gay friends (shake up things a bit), b/c while Dave’s home friends know he is gay the other people in the small town might just die if he were to bring another guy. Now THAT would be fun to watch!
Although they should be fine with it, because even though his small town is no San Francisco…...they do have a LOT of guys in cowboy attire. You can’t tell me that Dave is the only mo to come out of the place.
According to my lovely date…..we’ll probably be a little over dressed, as the reception hall will have more dead animal heads on the walls then guests in the chairs.
Now we’re down to two:
As far as Erin’s wedding goes. Erica and I already decided to go together in order to save on gas / hotel / etc. So it is a little late in the game to bring a third party into this. Plus, Eric’s fiancé is in the army…and since she can’t bring him….I’ll go stag to keep her company.
So that leaves us with Nicole’s wedding. The wedding I am actually in and I ask myself….do I want to bring a date??
How do you approach someone with that question?
“Hey, want to be my date to a wedding?”
Unsuspecting Guy: “Sure.”
Me: “Now since I am in it, you’re going to have to drive alone to the church. Sit alone, drive alone to the reception, sit at a table with people you might not know, and basically be ignored by me until after dinner.”
U.G.: “Gee golly Joanie…..that sounds like fun!”
I guess I could bring Dave since I am going to a wedding with him, but do I really want to be known as the girl who brings a gay guy to weddings. Wait, let me rephrase that…..the SAD PATHETIC bridesmaid who could only dig up a gay guy for a wedding date.
Um no. Anyway, I think my family already thinks that after my cousin’s wedding two years ago that Dave attended. Why bring that baggage into Chicago!
The there’s the thought that well if I bring no one I can scam on the straight single attractive guys at the wedding. But I know some single guys coming, and as nice as they are….they’re not really my type.
Plus I think Nicole has mentioned a time or two about this being her wedding and NOT an episode of Blind Date. But maybe that only counted for the groomsmen…..hmmmmmm…..
OH OH!!! I GOT IT!!! Maybe I could hire someone like Deborah Messing does with Dermont Mulroney in the Wedding Date! Yeah there’s an idea…a hot fun guy all mine for the night.
Ugg..nooo…..even if I did do that I could NEVER afford someone hot like Dermot Mulroney. I would have to go to the discount escort serves and end up getting someone like the kid from Napoleon Dynamite.
Oh well, we’ll see. Some of those people thought I was a lesbian in high school, so maybe I’ll bring Kayla and let them keep thinking that.
No…..Nicole would kill me….b/c if the wedding is not Blind Date….it sure the hell isn’t Girls Gone Wild!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
We Just Need A Golden Tee
Sometimes I think Roommate and I are An Old Married Couple:
We don’t have a dishwasher so I do the dishes. If it was left up to Roommate to do the dishes….we would be eating off plastic dishes and using red “flip cups” to drink out of.
Roommate takes out the trash b/c I have an aversion to taking the trash out. I think its called laziness.
When we first moved in I was making dinner for both of us. Lately, it’s an “every girl for herself” attitude. I guess the honeymoon is over.
Every morning I tell Roommate the weather forecast, and sometimes she asks before I can tell her. Her pet name for me is Weather Bug. Isn’t that sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
She gives me nice gifts……like the pink sweat band she had. Its always been a dream of mine to work out and look like a mix between an NBA superstar and a gay man.
Just last night we both fell asleep watching TV. I woke up and put a blanket on her (she was passed out on the couch), turned off the TV and shut off the lights before going to bed. I didn’t kiss her on the forehead b/c I figured my kiss would be followed by a punch in the face.
If we were to get a dog, I would be solely responsible for it and she would play with it. If we were to have a kid it would be the same thing, but with a lot more explaining to do.
Basically, I am the wife and Roommate is the husband, and in true old married couple fashion…..we sleep in separate rooms.
In dysfunctional old married couple fashion….we’re cheating on each other by going on dates with actual guys.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I think Roommate and I are Frat Boys:
Upon entering the apartment and walking up the stairs, you see our state flag displayed proudly. For some reason there is also a map of campus. I guess Roommate was afraid someone would get lost on MSU’s campus so much that they would end up in our apartment and need directions back.
We have an air hockey table instead of a kitchen table. It’s more entertaining and holds the mail just as good as a kitchen table would.
We own Super Troopers, Zoolander, Old School, Boondock Saints, and other “guy/fratty” type movies. These get watched a lot more then Beaches and The Notebook.
We still decorate with Christmas Lights.
Our fridge has beer in it all the time.
We watch Sports Center everyday.
We watch sports and yell back at the TV. I can’t skate and she can’t dunk, but we feel the need to yell at the professional and college players (via the TV) and tell them how they can improve their games.
Like some fratties out there….we like boys.
We play Wingman for each other. As of last night I was her Wingman. I think I did a good job of it.
The major difference in us and real frat boys is that we don’t bring home random sluts.
The only slut coming home with me is Roommate, and she is not randon.
We don't pop our collars.
Now alls that we need is a Golden Tee and we'll be set!!
We don’t have a dishwasher so I do the dishes. If it was left up to Roommate to do the dishes….we would be eating off plastic dishes and using red “flip cups” to drink out of.
Roommate takes out the trash b/c I have an aversion to taking the trash out. I think its called laziness.
When we first moved in I was making dinner for both of us. Lately, it’s an “every girl for herself” attitude. I guess the honeymoon is over.
Every morning I tell Roommate the weather forecast, and sometimes she asks before I can tell her. Her pet name for me is Weather Bug. Isn’t that sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
She gives me nice gifts……like the pink sweat band she had. Its always been a dream of mine to work out and look like a mix between an NBA superstar and a gay man.
Just last night we both fell asleep watching TV. I woke up and put a blanket on her (she was passed out on the couch), turned off the TV and shut off the lights before going to bed. I didn’t kiss her on the forehead b/c I figured my kiss would be followed by a punch in the face.
If we were to get a dog, I would be solely responsible for it and she would play with it. If we were to have a kid it would be the same thing, but with a lot more explaining to do.
Basically, I am the wife and Roommate is the husband, and in true old married couple fashion…..we sleep in separate rooms.
In dysfunctional old married couple fashion….we’re cheating on each other by going on dates with actual guys.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes I think Roommate and I are Frat Boys:
Upon entering the apartment and walking up the stairs, you see our state flag displayed proudly. For some reason there is also a map of campus. I guess Roommate was afraid someone would get lost on MSU’s campus so much that they would end up in our apartment and need directions back.
We have an air hockey table instead of a kitchen table. It’s more entertaining and holds the mail just as good as a kitchen table would.
We own Super Troopers, Zoolander, Old School, Boondock Saints, and other “guy/fratty” type movies. These get watched a lot more then Beaches and The Notebook.
We still decorate with Christmas Lights.
Our fridge has beer in it all the time.
We watch Sports Center everyday.
We watch sports and yell back at the TV. I can’t skate and she can’t dunk, but we feel the need to yell at the professional and college players (via the TV) and tell them how they can improve their games.
Like some fratties out there….we like boys.
We play Wingman for each other. As of last night I was her Wingman. I think I did a good job of it.
The major difference in us and real frat boys is that we don’t bring home random sluts.
The only slut coming home with me is Roommate, and she is not randon.
We don't pop our collars.
Now alls that we need is a Golden Tee and we'll be set!!
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Randomness
So I got this from Kennice, and I am posting it here for anyone who has not had the chance to read it on everyone's away message.
Plus it's funny.....b/c it's true!
Plus it's funny.....b/c it's true!
"Bud Light Presents: Real Men of Genius:Today we salute you, Mr.Constant Collar Putter Upper. You, bedecked in popped collar, teach us that we no longer have to live with a cold, back of the neck. Sure, your Pink alligator polo may look feminine to some, but not to the 17 other frat guys wearing the same thing at the bar. Where others may see thoughtless fashion conformity, you preach a higher gospel. You preach of a world where its okay for a man to go tanning. You ask "why can't we wear make-up, and use shampoo with lavender essecence?" So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, Mr. Abercrombie (or is it Fitch?), because we all know, when we really need a piece of gum, you might have one...in your man purse."
Guess Who's Out of the Will Again!!!
I had a great time back at State for graduation. As great as it was to see some of my favorite assholes and some people I haven’t seen in ages, it also marked the end to an era.
I know you’re asking, “What IS she talking about?”
Let me explain. For the past two years since graduation, anytime we wanted to go up for a football, hockey or basketball game alls we had to do was call up one of our little Sparties there and we had a place to crash.
For the past two years the usual suspects have been Dave and Kennice. Since Dave is looking to get a job out of state and Kennice just graduated……our couch crashing days are over.
Yes, it might actually be time to grow up and…..duh duh duuuuuuh….rent a hotel room!!!! (NOOOOOOOOOOOOO)
Scary isn’t it. I mean what’s next? Actually sitting in real seats at these events and NOT the student sections?
Just weird, but I guess this is all part of growing up. There’s a time in everyone’s life when they just need to forgo on buying their 10000000th MSU t-shirt and use those savings for a room at the Residence Inn.
Someone did offer to host Roommate and I next time we came up. I guess you could say he’s either a saint or someone who has no clue what he would be getting himself into.
B/c as our Saturday morning dance parties show: Roommate and I can be like two kids with ADD who are given 8,000 lbs of sugar and told to “Go at it!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In other news:
My dad’s cat well hell bent on not letting me sleep on Friday morning, it makes me miss the days where my father hated cats.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moving onto current affairs:
Kayla called me at 3 a.m. Monday morning to tell me she smelled like horses.
Next time she’s finished working a 24 hour shift at the vet clinic, I am going to call her up as she is deep in sleep and tell her I smell like a John Grisham Novel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Crazy Train Makes Another Stop:
My grandpa overheard me joking around about cutting all my hair off. (GI Jane Style) He then informed me that if I did that no decent man would marry me, and only lesbians do that.
“JOANIE! You’re not a lesbian are you.” – Grandpa
“Nooooo grandpa, I was only kidding.” – me
(now…if you’re a regular reader I bet you know what is coming next)
“B/c if you are a lesbian. You will be OUT OF THE WILL!”
“Oh yeah, the will. Hey will you give me $20.00 to dump my girlfriend?”
“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?”
“Jesus. Kidding grandpa.”
Luckily, he caught onto this one and we did not have to have the repeat of the previous out of the will moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fashion News:
The following conversation occurred between my boss and me last Thursday:
“I am going to go and get coffee, what do you want?” - boss man
“I’ll have a medium, café latte with skim milk and two Splendas.” – me
~~blank stare~~
“Ok, I will write it down.” – me
Boss man goes and comes back with the coffees.
“I got the same thing. This is kind of a fru fru drink. I bet they thought I was GAY.”
“Eh, don’t worry. You don’t dress well enough to be gay.”
~~ Sometimes I wonder how I don’t get fired. Oh right, b/c then NOTHING would get done.
I know you’re asking, “What IS she talking about?”
Let me explain. For the past two years since graduation, anytime we wanted to go up for a football, hockey or basketball game alls we had to do was call up one of our little Sparties there and we had a place to crash.
For the past two years the usual suspects have been Dave and Kennice. Since Dave is looking to get a job out of state and Kennice just graduated……our couch crashing days are over.
Yes, it might actually be time to grow up and…..duh duh duuuuuuh….rent a hotel room!!!! (NOOOOOOOOOOOOO)
Scary isn’t it. I mean what’s next? Actually sitting in real seats at these events and NOT the student sections?
Just weird, but I guess this is all part of growing up. There’s a time in everyone’s life when they just need to forgo on buying their 10000000th MSU t-shirt and use those savings for a room at the Residence Inn.
Someone did offer to host Roommate and I next time we came up. I guess you could say he’s either a saint or someone who has no clue what he would be getting himself into.
B/c as our Saturday morning dance parties show: Roommate and I can be like two kids with ADD who are given 8,000 lbs of sugar and told to “Go at it!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In other news:
My dad’s cat well hell bent on not letting me sleep on Friday morning, it makes me miss the days where my father hated cats.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Moving onto current affairs:
Kayla called me at 3 a.m. Monday morning to tell me she smelled like horses.
Next time she’s finished working a 24 hour shift at the vet clinic, I am going to call her up as she is deep in sleep and tell her I smell like a John Grisham Novel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Crazy Train Makes Another Stop:
My grandpa overheard me joking around about cutting all my hair off. (GI Jane Style) He then informed me that if I did that no decent man would marry me, and only lesbians do that.
“JOANIE! You’re not a lesbian are you.” – Grandpa
“Nooooo grandpa, I was only kidding.” – me
(now…if you’re a regular reader I bet you know what is coming next)
“B/c if you are a lesbian. You will be OUT OF THE WILL!”
“Oh yeah, the will. Hey will you give me $20.00 to dump my girlfriend?”
“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?”
“Jesus. Kidding grandpa.”
Luckily, he caught onto this one and we did not have to have the repeat of the previous out of the will moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fashion News:
The following conversation occurred between my boss and me last Thursday:
“I am going to go and get coffee, what do you want?” - boss man
“I’ll have a medium, café latte with skim milk and two Splendas.” – me
~~blank stare~~
“Ok, I will write it down.” – me
Boss man goes and comes back with the coffees.
“I got the same thing. This is kind of a fru fru drink. I bet they thought I was GAY.”
“Eh, don’t worry. You don’t dress well enough to be gay.”
~~ Sometimes I wonder how I don’t get fired. Oh right, b/c then NOTHING would get done.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Republican Gaydar???
The kind of cute guy who works at the Irish Pub next door and waited on us today at lunch just walked by the office.
He waved and my boss turns to me and goes, “Even though he is obviously a homosexual, do you want a date with Mike.”
Thinking: ::Hmm, and I was thinking he was checking me out at lunch::
Me: “Um, he’s gay?”
Boss man: “Yeah, he was obviously more interested in me then you.”
Me: “OR you go in the all the time AND you PAID this time.”
My gaydar did not go off. Was boss man being funny?? Or does he have gaydar and I’ve lost mine!!!??”
Can Angry Republicans have gaydar??
~~When you do a GIS for "Gay Republican" you get this:
I have no words.
He waved and my boss turns to me and goes, “Even though he is obviously a homosexual, do you want a date with Mike.”
Thinking: ::Hmm, and I was thinking he was checking me out at lunch::
Me: “Um, he’s gay?”
Boss man: “Yeah, he was obviously more interested in me then you.”
Me: “OR you go in the all the time AND you PAID this time.”
My gaydar did not go off. Was boss man being funny?? Or does he have gaydar and I’ve lost mine!!!??”
Can Angry Republicans have gaydar??
~~When you do a GIS for "Gay Republican" you get this:
I have no words.
Sleeping with Deadly Objects
So I realize I haven’t been very interesting or funny lately. One big indication is that I went two weeks without posting and when I finally did…..it wasn’t that interesting.
Yeah I suck…..sorry.
Honestly, it could be worse. I could bore you with the mundane daily activities that have consumed my life. Do you really want that? No. I did not think so.
This past Saturday, Roommate, Sarah and I volunteered at the Chicago Abused Women’s Coalition’s (CAWC) Visions of Chocolate. This black tie event raised money for the CAWC to keep doing all the good work it does, and gave really rich and well dressed people (and even us) an excuse to eat 4 yrs worth of chocolate.
Well by the end we were stuff, wired on sugar and caffeine and in really goofy moods. Stephanie was not helping the situation as she was being brutally honest, sarcastic, funny and loud (aka..me in 15 yrs).
For example: We would see a cute guy and she would point blank ask him if he was A) Straight and B) single.
So she’s telling us how one of the board members is a state’s attorney and he always brings police officers to the event.
Stephanie: “Yeah so there’s at least one cop here.”
Me: “oh, I want to date a cop before I get married.”
Steph: “Really?”
Me: “Yeah two words, UNIFORM & HANDCUFFS!”
So as we’re all laughing Stephanie CALLS THE COP OVER!!! The whole time he is there I am trying not to laugh. I mean come on…..we just got making a dirty sex joke about what the guy could do with his “club” and cuffs and she calls him over.
Sadly, the officer seemed a little shy or at the very least intimidated by four beautiful women with big mouths.
Not to be completely random…..BUT….
Last night I feel asleep on the couch. Sometime between last night at 11:30 and this morning at 6:30 I managed to get up, take my contact out, wash my face and brush the teeth and get into bed.
Apparently, I also felt the need to drag the couch pillow to bed with me, and not the little side pillow…NOPE the big back pillow. I was all snuggled up to it when I woke up. I hope I didn’t take advantage of it….and used protection.
Changing the Channel…………..
Waking up next to a strange pillow reminded me of the time I was convinced Chris’ apartment was going to get broken into.
I was staying there b/c my freshman roommate’s (NOT current roommate) boyfriend was in for the weekend…and honestly….I did not want to wake up to them having sex again. Anyway, Chris was gone for some away game and I was all alone in the apartment. About 11:30 I heard noises, figured it was someone coming to pillage me and so I did what anyone else would do. I grabbed my lacrosse stick and one of his hockey sticks and went back to bed.
Sometime later I felt something moving next to me and then touch my back. Without hesitating I whipped around and hit the person/thing/space alien very very hard with the lacrosse stick. It grabbed the stick and before I could wield my hockey stick of pain the thing cried out, “JOANIE!!! IT’S ME!”
Then the lights went on and I saw lying in bed holding his stomach and the stick was Chris. There was a bright red mark across his naked tummy…and it did not look pleasant.
In my defense WHO the hell lurks into their apartment at night. He used some lame excuse like he knew I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to wake me.
The stick left a bad mark….we’re talking someone asked if he had gotten it in the game that night.
And you know how men are. They get sick or hurt with the smallest thing and its like they have Ebola. So for the next could of days it was “oh my stomach hurts.” “Don’t hit me there.” Blah blah blah.
Come on…..you play college hockey. I am sure my little whack with the lacrosse stick isn’t as bad as a 230 lb man on skates throwing all their body weight into you.
(Is it bad I went straight from talking about the CAWC to talking about abusing my boyfriend???)
Now for something completely different……
If you live in the NYC area please be on the lookout for two 24 year old men wearing Red Wings Jersey and threatening to jump off the Empire State Building.
If you live in the Denver area, please be on the lookout for a very well dressed metrosexual male with a red wings sticker on his BMW who might be five seconds from driving off a mountain.
The Wings were eliminated last night and my friends are not handling it to well. This is a very low blow since their demi-god Steve Yzerman will probably be retiring at the end of the year (which is now) and they wanted him to go out on a cup.
And finally…..
My boss informed me today that yesterday I looked like shit.
I told him yesterday I had a terrible headache and was dead tired.
I have yet to tell him I could care less about baseball or his friend’s sexual escapades. B/c really….if I’m not getting any……..I do NOT want to hear about a 45 yr old divorcee getting any.
One more thing…………
I need to make a new work play list……I caught myself listening to “Let’s Talk About Sex” by Salt n’ Pepa and then “Just a Lil bit” by Brett’s Homeslice Fiddy.
~~This bit of ADD entry brought to you by my Diet Coke addiction and the Kelly Clarkson playlist.
Yeah I suck…..sorry.
Honestly, it could be worse. I could bore you with the mundane daily activities that have consumed my life. Do you really want that? No. I did not think so.
This past Saturday, Roommate, Sarah and I volunteered at the Chicago Abused Women’s Coalition’s (CAWC) Visions of Chocolate. This black tie event raised money for the CAWC to keep doing all the good work it does, and gave really rich and well dressed people (and even us) an excuse to eat 4 yrs worth of chocolate.
Well by the end we were stuff, wired on sugar and caffeine and in really goofy moods. Stephanie was not helping the situation as she was being brutally honest, sarcastic, funny and loud (aka..me in 15 yrs).
For example: We would see a cute guy and she would point blank ask him if he was A) Straight and B) single.
So she’s telling us how one of the board members is a state’s attorney and he always brings police officers to the event.
Stephanie: “Yeah so there’s at least one cop here.”
Me: “oh, I want to date a cop before I get married.”
Steph: “Really?”
Me: “Yeah two words, UNIFORM & HANDCUFFS!”
So as we’re all laughing Stephanie CALLS THE COP OVER!!! The whole time he is there I am trying not to laugh. I mean come on…..we just got making a dirty sex joke about what the guy could do with his “club” and cuffs and she calls him over.
Sadly, the officer seemed a little shy or at the very least intimidated by four beautiful women with big mouths.
Not to be completely random…..BUT….
Last night I feel asleep on the couch. Sometime between last night at 11:30 and this morning at 6:30 I managed to get up, take my contact out, wash my face and brush the teeth and get into bed.
Apparently, I also felt the need to drag the couch pillow to bed with me, and not the little side pillow…NOPE the big back pillow. I was all snuggled up to it when I woke up. I hope I didn’t take advantage of it….and used protection.
Changing the Channel…………..
Waking up next to a strange pillow reminded me of the time I was convinced Chris’ apartment was going to get broken into.
I was staying there b/c my freshman roommate’s (NOT current roommate) boyfriend was in for the weekend…and honestly….I did not want to wake up to them having sex again. Anyway, Chris was gone for some away game and I was all alone in the apartment. About 11:30 I heard noises, figured it was someone coming to pillage me and so I did what anyone else would do. I grabbed my lacrosse stick and one of his hockey sticks and went back to bed.
Sometime later I felt something moving next to me and then touch my back. Without hesitating I whipped around and hit the person/thing/space alien very very hard with the lacrosse stick. It grabbed the stick and before I could wield my hockey stick of pain the thing cried out, “JOANIE!!! IT’S ME!”
Then the lights went on and I saw lying in bed holding his stomach and the stick was Chris. There was a bright red mark across his naked tummy…and it did not look pleasant.
In my defense WHO the hell lurks into their apartment at night. He used some lame excuse like he knew I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to wake me.
The stick left a bad mark….we’re talking someone asked if he had gotten it in the game that night.
And you know how men are. They get sick or hurt with the smallest thing and its like they have Ebola. So for the next could of days it was “oh my stomach hurts.” “Don’t hit me there.” Blah blah blah.
Come on…..you play college hockey. I am sure my little whack with the lacrosse stick isn’t as bad as a 230 lb man on skates throwing all their body weight into you.
(Is it bad I went straight from talking about the CAWC to talking about abusing my boyfriend???)
Now for something completely different……
If you live in the NYC area please be on the lookout for two 24 year old men wearing Red Wings Jersey and threatening to jump off the Empire State Building.
If you live in the Denver area, please be on the lookout for a very well dressed metrosexual male with a red wings sticker on his BMW who might be five seconds from driving off a mountain.
The Wings were eliminated last night and my friends are not handling it to well. This is a very low blow since their demi-god Steve Yzerman will probably be retiring at the end of the year (which is now) and they wanted him to go out on a cup.
And finally…..
My boss informed me today that yesterday I looked like shit.
I told him yesterday I had a terrible headache and was dead tired.
I have yet to tell him I could care less about baseball or his friend’s sexual escapades. B/c really….if I’m not getting any……..I do NOT want to hear about a 45 yr old divorcee getting any.
One more thing…………
I need to make a new work play list……I caught myself listening to “Let’s Talk About Sex” by Salt n’ Pepa and then “Just a Lil bit” by Brett’s Homeslice Fiddy.
~~This bit of ADD entry brought to you by my Diet Coke addiction and the Kelly Clarkson playlist.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Is it a kid or a midget?
Roommate, Sarah, Katherine and I all went to the White Sox game last Sunday. It was a great game. Not only were there back to back homers TWICE, hot sox players, and good hotdogs….but sitting behind me was midget baseball guru.
Ok fin, he wasn’t really a midget so much as a 4 year old, but he was a guru. The kid knew EVERYTHING about the Chicago White Sox. I asked him who his favorite players were and he rattled off (perfectly) three very hard to pronounce and spell names. He also said when he was ONLY 3 he went to the World Series.
He was ADORABLE!!! The little guy even took it upon himself to teach Roommate and I some things about baseball and White Sox history. We would ask questions and get this “I can’t believe you don’t know this” look.
When things would happen throughout the game he would tap me on the shoulder (which I could barely feel) and let us know what just happened. After the 5th time his dad went to tell him to stop and the little guy responded: “but daaaaad, the Gurrlzzz need to know what’s going on. They’re my friends.” I let daaaaad know that the gurrlzzzz didn’t mind the help.
I’m still convinced he was a midget and not a four year old. He was really cute. Looked a lot like this kid (minus the sign langauge):
Everyone says this is my future kid. Whatever
that's such a lie. We all know my kid would be
in Spartan attire when he did this charming thing!
After relating the story to my mom she said I was a lot like that at 2, but I repeated everything I heard from my uncles. Which meant I was giving the football stats with the f word sporadically placed sentences.
Chris was like this at that age but with hockey. For his 22nd Birthday his mom sent down a video for us to play at his party. It showed 4 year old Chris in his Maple Leafs Jersey rattling off hockey scores, facts, stats, etc. Which was a lot like this Sox kid, but with hockey and a Canadian accent. EH?
Oh and apparently it’s a bad idea to ask a 4 yr old (possible midget) Sox fan if he likes the cubs too. The kid looked like I kicked him and then said (in a voice like he was being beaten) NOOOOOOOOOO! THE CUBS SUCK!
Ok fin, he wasn’t really a midget so much as a 4 year old, but he was a guru. The kid knew EVERYTHING about the Chicago White Sox. I asked him who his favorite players were and he rattled off (perfectly) three very hard to pronounce and spell names. He also said when he was ONLY 3 he went to the World Series.
He was ADORABLE!!! The little guy even took it upon himself to teach Roommate and I some things about baseball and White Sox history. We would ask questions and get this “I can’t believe you don’t know this” look.
When things would happen throughout the game he would tap me on the shoulder (which I could barely feel) and let us know what just happened. After the 5th time his dad went to tell him to stop and the little guy responded: “but daaaaad, the Gurrlzzz need to know what’s going on. They’re my friends.” I let daaaaad know that the gurrlzzzz didn’t mind the help.
I’m still convinced he was a midget and not a four year old. He was really cute. Looked a lot like this kid (minus the sign langauge):
Everyone says this is my future kid. Whatever
that's such a lie. We all know my kid would be
in Spartan attire when he did this charming thing!
After relating the story to my mom she said I was a lot like that at 2, but I repeated everything I heard from my uncles. Which meant I was giving the football stats with the f word sporadically placed sentences.
Chris was like this at that age but with hockey. For his 22nd Birthday his mom sent down a video for us to play at his party. It showed 4 year old Chris in his Maple Leafs Jersey rattling off hockey scores, facts, stats, etc. Which was a lot like this Sox kid, but with hockey and a Canadian accent. EH?
Oh and apparently it’s a bad idea to ask a 4 yr old (possible midget) Sox fan if he likes the cubs too. The kid looked like I kicked him and then said (in a voice like he was being beaten) NOOOOOOOOOO! THE CUBS SUCK!
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
One Man's Skim Milk Is Another's Jug O' Wine
My mom just called and informed me that my aunt who is hosting Easter would like me to bring an appetizer to Easter Dinner. I guess being out of college and having a job requires me to now bring crap to family get together.
I find it odd that she would want me to bring an appetizer. We always have so many appetizers at these holidays. The only thing we have more of is pies. (My mom is obsessed with Baker’s Square Pies…she brings them to EVERYTHING!)
What my aunt should really be asking me to bring is alcohol, preferably hard liquor, and some sort of mood altering drug. Honestly, we can not go more then one hour without someone getting into it with someone else. Yes, my family holidays are THAT fun.
If I had my way the mood altering drugs would be handed out at the door. I will even volunteer to take people’s coats and hand them the pills.
Unfortunately, this is not something my family has agreed to yet and so I will have to self medicate. My Uncle Tom always brings his own gallon of skim milk to holidays (apparently afraid of rapid bone loss,) keeps it by his feet and drinks it throughout the event. I am going to do the same thing, but with wine.
Sometime during the experience my uncle will make fun of my sister for being a vegetarian. As soon as the comment is out of his mouth he will laugh like it’s the funniest damn thing in the world. She’s been a vegetarian for six years, the jokes are getting old.
Knowing my sister is a vegetarian my aunt will ensure that there is meat in almost everything there could be meet in; ham in the scalloped potatoes, bacon in the salad, appetizers made from meat. Allie’s Easter dinner would consist of rolls, carrots and celery if my mom did not anticipate this and bring vegetarian lasagna. Allie MUST get to the meal line first or my grandfather and cousin will eat the whole vegetarian thing before she gets there.
I get to share in this joy as mushrooms are put in everything possible due to the fact I hate them. I don’t know if my family does this on purpose or if they really did smoke that much crack in their developmental years.
By the time dinner is over we will realize that regardless of the fact my aunt nagged for two weeks for a head count of everyone coming, she will still have maid enough ham and turkey to feed a small country.
My one cousin will have already stormed up to his room in an angst teenage rage. (Poor kid has an HDTV, xbox, play station, etc in his room. His clothes are more expensive then what I pay in rent. It must be soooooooooooo hard for him.) Normally he doesn’t even show up to holidays anymore, but this is will be held at his house. My aunt says he’s “sick.” Deej and I have decided that he either has the world’s worst immune system or by sick she means high.
While we are preparing desert (the 1000000 pies all brought by my mother) my aunts will grill me on my personal life. Basically they want to know if I am dating anyone and how much money he makes. I haven’t decided yet if I am going to tell them the truth or lie. I guess it all depends on how much of the wine I have drank by that time.
While this is all going on my baby cousin (3 years old) will be trying to do little kid stuff like walk up and down the step separating the living room and kitchen, play with the cats, eat things off the floor. However, he will only get to do those things once before his parents see and freak out. They treat him like he’s the boy in the bubble. However, he has an immune system.
And he doesn’t get the fun bubble. I should get him a bubble for Easter.
"LOOK RILEY!!!! The Easter Bunny brought you your own personal hell."
By the end of the night I’ll be buzzed, my cousin high, my uncles fighting and my grandfather will be given a plate full of leftovers that could feed him for a week.
He’ll eat them all the minute my mom gets him home; including the plate full of sugary deserts. Apparently they are good for his DIABETES.
For most families Easter is a time for celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ, for me is a warning to being two bottles of wine to Christmas.
I find it odd that she would want me to bring an appetizer. We always have so many appetizers at these holidays. The only thing we have more of is pies. (My mom is obsessed with Baker’s Square Pies…she brings them to EVERYTHING!)
What my aunt should really be asking me to bring is alcohol, preferably hard liquor, and some sort of mood altering drug. Honestly, we can not go more then one hour without someone getting into it with someone else. Yes, my family holidays are THAT fun.
If I had my way the mood altering drugs would be handed out at the door. I will even volunteer to take people’s coats and hand them the pills.
Unfortunately, this is not something my family has agreed to yet and so I will have to self medicate. My Uncle Tom always brings his own gallon of skim milk to holidays (apparently afraid of rapid bone loss,) keeps it by his feet and drinks it throughout the event. I am going to do the same thing, but with wine.
Sometime during the experience my uncle will make fun of my sister for being a vegetarian. As soon as the comment is out of his mouth he will laugh like it’s the funniest damn thing in the world. She’s been a vegetarian for six years, the jokes are getting old.
Knowing my sister is a vegetarian my aunt will ensure that there is meat in almost everything there could be meet in; ham in the scalloped potatoes, bacon in the salad, appetizers made from meat. Allie’s Easter dinner would consist of rolls, carrots and celery if my mom did not anticipate this and bring vegetarian lasagna. Allie MUST get to the meal line first or my grandfather and cousin will eat the whole vegetarian thing before she gets there.
I get to share in this joy as mushrooms are put in everything possible due to the fact I hate them. I don’t know if my family does this on purpose or if they really did smoke that much crack in their developmental years.
By the time dinner is over we will realize that regardless of the fact my aunt nagged for two weeks for a head count of everyone coming, she will still have maid enough ham and turkey to feed a small country.
My one cousin will have already stormed up to his room in an angst teenage rage. (Poor kid has an HDTV, xbox, play station, etc in his room. His clothes are more expensive then what I pay in rent. It must be soooooooooooo hard for him.) Normally he doesn’t even show up to holidays anymore, but this is will be held at his house. My aunt says he’s “sick.” Deej and I have decided that he either has the world’s worst immune system or by sick she means high.
While we are preparing desert (the 1000000 pies all brought by my mother) my aunts will grill me on my personal life. Basically they want to know if I am dating anyone and how much money he makes. I haven’t decided yet if I am going to tell them the truth or lie. I guess it all depends on how much of the wine I have drank by that time.
While this is all going on my baby cousin (3 years old) will be trying to do little kid stuff like walk up and down the step separating the living room and kitchen, play with the cats, eat things off the floor. However, he will only get to do those things once before his parents see and freak out. They treat him like he’s the boy in the bubble. However, he has an immune system.
And he doesn’t get the fun bubble. I should get him a bubble for Easter.
"LOOK RILEY!!!! The Easter Bunny brought you your own personal hell."By the end of the night I’ll be buzzed, my cousin high, my uncles fighting and my grandfather will be given a plate full of leftovers that could feed him for a week.
He’ll eat them all the minute my mom gets him home; including the plate full of sugary deserts. Apparently they are good for his DIABETES.
For most families Easter is a time for celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ, for me is a warning to being two bottles of wine to Christmas.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Idiots.....Phone Home
Gwyneth Paltrow had her baby, and it’s a boy. Sadly she did not go with the names sauce or pie as Erica and I were hoping. No she went with Moses.
Me: “Gwyneth Paltrow had her baby, she named it Moses”
Erica: “Is she planning on floating this one down a river when she gets sick of it”
Me: “He would be handy in a flood.”
Ok, I realize that Moses isn’t as weird as naming your kid after produce, but what ever happened to naming kids Chris and Sarah?
Sometimes I think people try to hard to be cool when naming children. Jason Lee named his son Pilot Inspector. Yeah. I know.
Here’s my advice, you want to name your kid something stupid…..get a dog, name the dog Luffa Bell, and name your daughter Laura.
Roommate’s ex-boyfriend used to say he wanted to name his son Elliot. Now, on its own Elliot isn’t a bad name. However, around anyone alive during the E.T. era it spells disaster. Especially if roommate was the mother, b/c she would be making fun of the kid.
Roommate: (in E.T. voice) EEELLLLIIIOOOTTTT!!! (In normal voice) Dinner is ready.
Me: ELLLLIIIOOOTTTT, please pass the potatoes.
Elliot: do you two have to do that?
Roommate: do what? ELLLIIIIOOOOTTTT.
Sometimes I wonder what I will name my kids. I like Abby, Hanna and Haley for girls and Aidan, Ryan and Andrew for boys. However, if I were to name the children something “original” I would name the twins Law & Order and the other kid Potato.
In other news:
My mortgage contact at Country Wide Home Loans came by and brought us mugs filled with candy. I only got two (2) red starbursts. So I took all my other candy and all the other starburst colors,…..went to the three other desks in the office….dumped out their mugs…took all their red starbursts and left my reject candy.
It’s the little things in life that make me happy.
Me: “Gwyneth Paltrow had her baby, she named it Moses”
Erica: “Is she planning on floating this one down a river when she gets sick of it”
Me: “He would be handy in a flood.”
Ok, I realize that Moses isn’t as weird as naming your kid after produce, but what ever happened to naming kids Chris and Sarah?
Sometimes I think people try to hard to be cool when naming children. Jason Lee named his son Pilot Inspector. Yeah. I know.
Here’s my advice, you want to name your kid something stupid…..get a dog, name the dog Luffa Bell, and name your daughter Laura.
Roommate’s ex-boyfriend used to say he wanted to name his son Elliot. Now, on its own Elliot isn’t a bad name. However, around anyone alive during the E.T. era it spells disaster. Especially if roommate was the mother, b/c she would be making fun of the kid.
Roommate: (in E.T. voice) EEELLLLIIIOOOTTTT!!! (In normal voice) Dinner is ready.
Me: ELLLLIIIOOOTTTT, please pass the potatoes.
Elliot: do you two have to do that?
Roommate: do what? ELLLIIIIOOOOTTTT.
Sometimes I wonder what I will name my kids. I like Abby, Hanna and Haley for girls and Aidan, Ryan and Andrew for boys. However, if I were to name the children something “original” I would name the twins Law & Order and the other kid Potato.
In other news:
My mortgage contact at Country Wide Home Loans came by and brought us mugs filled with candy. I only got two (2) red starbursts. So I took all my other candy and all the other starburst colors,…..went to the three other desks in the office….dumped out their mugs…took all their red starbursts and left my reject candy.
It’s the little things in life that make me happy.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Prison Orange Makes Me Look Ill
Last night I worked a college night at a local high school. I was there all spiffy and to give kids information on going to MSU.
The night went pretty smoothly. Its nice being there b/c I am a lot closer in age to these kids then the other reps from MSU are (I’m 24 and the closest one to my age is about 35.) It’s fun talking to different people and sharing with them why I loved State and everything State has to offer.
At one point in time I was talking to this girl, her twin brother and his best friend. We started with academics (the girl wanted teaching or human service…which I know A LOT about…the boys wanted engineering…so I was at a loss with them) but then got on the topic of sports. Cue the next 15 minutes lost to football and basketball talk, and how great watching sports at State is. I even had pictures with me of my friends and me in the IZZONE, at football games and in the slapshots. Those three left very excited.
So as I am packing up two guys came to the table and starting asking questions. One kid looked like he was about 13. The other looked about 25. He was about 6 feet tall, built, scruffy face and a real cutie. However, he was only 17 and a junior!!! This is how people get in trouble.
The conversation started off all normal and innocent enough, but then took and interesting turn.
Me: “Is there anything else I can help you guys with?”
25 yr old look alike: “How long have you been at state?”
Me: “Oh, I graduated two years ago.”
Other kid: “Really, you’re very young looking.”
M: “Um, thanks.”
25yola: “yeah, so do you live around here.”
M: “I live in Chicago. Its nice b/c there are a lot of State Alum in the city.”
25yola: “That’s nice. So are all the girls at MSU as pretty as you are?”
M: blushing a bit. “Um, any other COLLEGE related questions I can help you with?”
25yola: “Not right now, but can I have your phone number so I can call you when I do have some?”
Me: “You know, we have a website that can answer most of your questions. Anything outside you can email Ron over here with!”
25yola takes my hand to shake it and does that hold onto it with both hands thing, then he WINKS AT ME!
OK, was I just hit on by high school students???? B/c seriously, what were they thinking!!!! MAAAYYYBBBEE if I was still in college and BRAIN DEAD I would go out with a kid still in high school? He’s Nicole’s brother’s age!! It would be like dating Ross. (Whom I love…but not like that) ick…ick…ICK!!!
Earth to 25yola I was in 2nd grade when you were born. I was in the beginnings of puberty before you were potty trained!! I was driving before you learned that your real best friend was your right hand!!!
COME ON!!!! DO I look like Mary Kay Laturno??? NO!
Oh well, you’ve got to give the kid something, he sure does have some balls.
The night went pretty smoothly. Its nice being there b/c I am a lot closer in age to these kids then the other reps from MSU are (I’m 24 and the closest one to my age is about 35.) It’s fun talking to different people and sharing with them why I loved State and everything State has to offer.
At one point in time I was talking to this girl, her twin brother and his best friend. We started with academics (the girl wanted teaching or human service…which I know A LOT about…the boys wanted engineering…so I was at a loss with them) but then got on the topic of sports. Cue the next 15 minutes lost to football and basketball talk, and how great watching sports at State is. I even had pictures with me of my friends and me in the IZZONE, at football games and in the slapshots. Those three left very excited.
So as I am packing up two guys came to the table and starting asking questions. One kid looked like he was about 13. The other looked about 25. He was about 6 feet tall, built, scruffy face and a real cutie. However, he was only 17 and a junior!!! This is how people get in trouble.
The conversation started off all normal and innocent enough, but then took and interesting turn.
Me: “Is there anything else I can help you guys with?”
25 yr old look alike: “How long have you been at state?”
Me: “Oh, I graduated two years ago.”
Other kid: “Really, you’re very young looking.”
M: “Um, thanks.”
25yola: “yeah, so do you live around here.”
M: “I live in Chicago. Its nice b/c there are a lot of State Alum in the city.”
25yola: “That’s nice. So are all the girls at MSU as pretty as you are?”
M: blushing a bit. “Um, any other COLLEGE related questions I can help you with?”
25yola: “Not right now, but can I have your phone number so I can call you when I do have some?”
Me: “You know, we have a website that can answer most of your questions. Anything outside you can email Ron over here with!”
25yola takes my hand to shake it and does that hold onto it with both hands thing, then he WINKS AT ME!
OK, was I just hit on by high school students???? B/c seriously, what were they thinking!!!! MAAAYYYBBBEE if I was still in college and BRAIN DEAD I would go out with a kid still in high school? He’s Nicole’s brother’s age!! It would be like dating Ross. (Whom I love…but not like that) ick…ick…ICK!!!
Earth to 25yola I was in 2nd grade when you were born. I was in the beginnings of puberty before you were potty trained!! I was driving before you learned that your real best friend was your right hand!!!
COME ON!!!! DO I look like Mary Kay Laturno??? NO!
Oh well, you’ve got to give the kid something, he sure does have some balls.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Sammiches gooooooooood......
I was riding on the over cramped purple line yesterday on my way home from work. Being sammiched between one very tall attractive guy and a shorter attractive guy sounds like a lot of fun, but when your nose is about 2 millimeters away from their chest…its kinda of awkward. Thinking this couldn’t get anymore uncomfortable, my phone rings and I have to get into my pocket with my right hand (my right arm is being smashed by these two teenagers making out….yes…making out….on the crowded L!!!) Halfway through the MSU fight song (my ring tone) I finally answer the phone.
Me: “K?”
Kayla: “Yeah, hey…why are you whispering?”
M: “I’m on the L and don’t want to be loud, why are you whispering,”
K: “B/c you were….oh never mind.”
~the conversation isn’t to interesting from here on out. We talk about getting Red Wings and Pistons playoff tickets and such. Then we go onto how the weekend was and finally the gossip hits. As we get to this lovely topic I am walking off the L and down the stairs. I have previously mentioned (about 5 secs before) the name of the girl I was talking about.
M: “Yeah, and I don’t know. She’s kinda stuck up and a bitch and not the fun kind of bitch like you, me and roommate.”
~as I say this I notice that two people in front of me is Ken (named changed to protect me). Ken would be a really good friend of this girl’s roommate.
M: “No, Kayla! We’re not talking about June (again, protecting me) anymore. We left that topic about 5 minutes ago. I was talking about Chrissie.
K: “What are you talking about?”
M: “You said that you ran into Chrissie and I was commenting on her being a bitch.”
K: ”I don’t even know a Chrissie. What the HELL are you going on about?”
M: “You’re right, at least I don’t have to see her anymore.”
K: “Ok, can you fill me in on the conversation you and the voices are having?”
M: “So, do you guys want to come up for the Sox / Tigers game this summer?”
K: “Joanie?? Were you smoking crack again?”
~Finally, Ken turns down his street and I am no longer behind him. I have to explain to Kayla about what just happened and why I was acting all nutty.
Ok, this really serves me right. I should NOT be talking about these people and using actual names knowing that they or their friends live by.
I can just imagine the get together.
M: “Hey, June. Do you want a drink?”
J: “So you think I’m a bitch and stuck up.”
M: “WHAT? NO! Who told you that?”
J: “Ken did.”
M: “Please. Ken? You’re going to take his word over mine?”
~~blank stare
J: “Yes! I am not a bitch. You are just jealous b/c I look like I haven’t eaten in three weeks, have a boyfriend I control like a lap dog and am better then you in all ways. Now if you will excuse me….. I have to go tell my boyfriend not to eat that cocktail weenie.”
Ok the last comment was kind of harsh, but when someone wears a bathing suit and looks like a refuge from the Irish Potato Famine….something needs to be said. PLUS she is a bitch and stuck up, and really....I have no idea why.
Me: “K?”
Kayla: “Yeah, hey…why are you whispering?”
M: “I’m on the L and don’t want to be loud, why are you whispering,”
K: “B/c you were….oh never mind.”
~the conversation isn’t to interesting from here on out. We talk about getting Red Wings and Pistons playoff tickets and such. Then we go onto how the weekend was and finally the gossip hits. As we get to this lovely topic I am walking off the L and down the stairs. I have previously mentioned (about 5 secs before) the name of the girl I was talking about.
M: “Yeah, and I don’t know. She’s kinda stuck up and a bitch and not the fun kind of bitch like you, me and roommate.”
~as I say this I notice that two people in front of me is Ken (named changed to protect me). Ken would be a really good friend of this girl’s roommate.
M: “No, Kayla! We’re not talking about June (again, protecting me) anymore. We left that topic about 5 minutes ago. I was talking about Chrissie.
K: “What are you talking about?”
M: “You said that you ran into Chrissie and I was commenting on her being a bitch.”
K: ”I don’t even know a Chrissie. What the HELL are you going on about?”
M: “You’re right, at least I don’t have to see her anymore.”
K: “Ok, can you fill me in on the conversation you and the voices are having?”
M: “So, do you guys want to come up for the Sox / Tigers game this summer?”
K: “Joanie?? Were you smoking crack again?”
~Finally, Ken turns down his street and I am no longer behind him. I have to explain to Kayla about what just happened and why I was acting all nutty.
Ok, this really serves me right. I should NOT be talking about these people and using actual names knowing that they or their friends live by.
I can just imagine the get together.
M: “Hey, June. Do you want a drink?”
J: “So you think I’m a bitch and stuck up.”
M: “WHAT? NO! Who told you that?”
J: “Ken did.”
M: “Please. Ken? You’re going to take his word over mine?”
~~blank stare
J: “Yes! I am not a bitch. You are just jealous b/c I look like I haven’t eaten in three weeks, have a boyfriend I control like a lap dog and am better then you in all ways. Now if you will excuse me….. I have to go tell my boyfriend not to eat that cocktail weenie.”
Ok the last comment was kind of harsh, but when someone wears a bathing suit and looks like a refuge from the Irish Potato Famine….something needs to be said. PLUS she is a bitch and stuck up, and really....I have no idea why.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Blackmail. My Favorite Childhood Game
The shocks on my car sound like they need to be oiled. Do you oil shocks? Well, anyway, if they need to be fixed I guess I am heading back up to St. Joe.
My dad’s friend owns a body shop and I always take my car there to be fixed. Now one may ask, “Is it worth the drive, time off work and gas money?” Simple answer, YES!
There are many reasons why I enjoy making the trip.
1. My grandparents are there and I get to spend time with them
2. My car gets fixed for next to nothing (compared to what it would cost)
3. My dad and Nonie are AMAZING cooks and I get to eat something that isn’t a turkey burger or a Lean Cuisine.
4. No matter what I look like Les tells me I’m pretty.
Now the last one is the best reason. KIDDING!!!! It’s the second best reason. Seeing my family is the best. However, hearing how pretty you are, no matter what you look like, is always an added bonus.
One time I went in and was working on 3 hours sleep and a strict diet of beer. We’re talking by the grace of god I was sober when I woke up. The bloodshot puffy eyes that were hiding under the giant sunglasses were almost as cool as the hickey’s I apparently received during my 3 hour drunk make out session with Chris.
SIDE NOTE: WHAT!!! Are we still in high school!!! What self respecting 22 year old marks up his poor girlfriend like that?? Apparently those messed up Canadians.
I am sitting in the office (clean and showed but hung over) and trying to keep my hair covering the giant purple mark on the right (ear area) side of my neck while I do some of the paperwork. Les comes back and says: “You get prettier every time I see you.”
Me: “Les, you’re such a good liar.”
Les: “No, I mean that. Sorry if its to bright in here, I can put the shade down.”
Me: “No, its ok. I like my sunglasses.”
~As I sit there Jody, Les’s son who’s my age, walks in.
Les: “Jo, doesn’t Joanie get prettier every time we see her.”
Jody: “yeah dad, but right now she looks pretty hung over.”
~THANKS ASSHOLE!!!
Me: “Gee golly Jo…you’re MUCH too kind.”
~Les walks out to get something leave me and funny man alone
Jody: “I could have mentioned the dark hickey on your neck. YOU apparently had fun last night.
Me: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a cold, hence the eyes, and I got hit in the neck with a ball. It’s a bruise.
~we both laughed at that one.
Jody: “You better be nice to me. Or I’ll tell my dad and Neil about how their little princess is letting some guy feel her up.”
Me: “You better shut your fucker. Or I’ll tell your brother about the time we all went camping and YOU watched him mess around with Sarah in the camper when our parents were at the bar. My dad will be disappointed; your brother will kick your ass. I win.”
That shut him up! I think the best thing about knowing someone for almost your whole life is the ability to blackmail them.
My dad’s friend owns a body shop and I always take my car there to be fixed. Now one may ask, “Is it worth the drive, time off work and gas money?” Simple answer, YES!
There are many reasons why I enjoy making the trip.
1. My grandparents are there and I get to spend time with them
2. My car gets fixed for next to nothing (compared to what it would cost)
3. My dad and Nonie are AMAZING cooks and I get to eat something that isn’t a turkey burger or a Lean Cuisine.
4. No matter what I look like Les tells me I’m pretty.
Now the last one is the best reason. KIDDING!!!! It’s the second best reason. Seeing my family is the best. However, hearing how pretty you are, no matter what you look like, is always an added bonus.
One time I went in and was working on 3 hours sleep and a strict diet of beer. We’re talking by the grace of god I was sober when I woke up. The bloodshot puffy eyes that were hiding under the giant sunglasses were almost as cool as the hickey’s I apparently received during my 3 hour drunk make out session with Chris.
SIDE NOTE: WHAT!!! Are we still in high school!!! What self respecting 22 year old marks up his poor girlfriend like that?? Apparently those messed up Canadians.
I am sitting in the office (clean and showed but hung over) and trying to keep my hair covering the giant purple mark on the right (ear area) side of my neck while I do some of the paperwork. Les comes back and says: “You get prettier every time I see you.”
Me: “Les, you’re such a good liar.”
Les: “No, I mean that. Sorry if its to bright in here, I can put the shade down.”
Me: “No, its ok. I like my sunglasses.”
~As I sit there Jody, Les’s son who’s my age, walks in.
Les: “Jo, doesn’t Joanie get prettier every time we see her.”
Jody: “yeah dad, but right now she looks pretty hung over.”
~THANKS ASSHOLE!!!
Me: “Gee golly Jo…you’re MUCH too kind.”
~Les walks out to get something leave me and funny man alone
Jody: “I could have mentioned the dark hickey on your neck. YOU apparently had fun last night.
Me: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a cold, hence the eyes, and I got hit in the neck with a ball. It’s a bruise.
~we both laughed at that one.
Jody: “You better be nice to me. Or I’ll tell my dad and Neil about how their little princess is letting some guy feel her up.”
Me: “You better shut your fucker. Or I’ll tell your brother about the time we all went camping and YOU watched him mess around with Sarah in the camper when our parents were at the bar. My dad will be disappointed; your brother will kick your ass. I win.”
That shut him up! I think the best thing about knowing someone for almost your whole life is the ability to blackmail them.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Joanie.....you are NOT the father.
The thing I love most about my friends is that they too have CRAZY relatives. In Dave’s case it’s his mother, Jan. Now she is about as sweet as a pixie stick, but not completely there.
Well last night Dave called to inform me that his mother figured out what has been ailing him. Dave has been pretty sick. (Probably with a cold, you know how men get when they are sick) Jan has decided he has Scarlet Fever, b/c “it has been going around.” Scarlet fever???
We laughed about it for a bit. Dave made a joke about being Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge. Said he couldn’t have scarlet fever b/c he’s not singing “Come What May” on a swing suspended form the ceiling.
Um, Dave, she had Tuberculosis, but it was a funny comment anyway. (Moron. SOMEONE doesn’t want E.R.)
As funny as Dr. Jan’s diagnosis was, it can’t touch what happened to Chad.
Back in my freshman year of college a terrible winter hit and as you would expect we all got sick. Chad seemed to get it the worse (or whine the most about it) so we took him to Olin Health Care Center (on campus medical place.) They did a strep test, took blood and a urine sample.
The next day when Chad called into the center for his test results he was told that his strep test was negative (only had a minor throat infection), blood test normal (no mano), and he was Preggers.
Chad gets off the phone and goes, “Well, I am going to be ok, but she just told me I was pregnant. So J, looks like even though we haven’t slept together I guess your such a good kisser u can knock guys up.”
Yes, apparently I am that good.
So, I did what any expected father would do. I grabbed Kayla (her car and Brett’s Credit Card) and went to Meijer. There we bought everything needed for a baby shower.
When the guys came into Kayla’s room that night for Pizza and dirty movie night (a whole nother story…) they were greeted with an “It’s a BOY” banner hanging over the window, a cake with a stork on it, bottles filled with rum and coke, and other little baby shower party favors.
Apparently, Tom and Matt had the same idea b/c they showed up with presents. The presents included: a breast pump, maternity pants and a “they shake me” baby t-shirt.
We also discussed baby names. Since we both agreed that the baby would not be called Charles John McCaffery IV, we came up with some more original ones. I was partial to Long Island or Yager bomb since that’s what we were drinking in the night the little one was conceived. Chad, however, favored Yzerman (for Stevie Y…Chad’s Hero.) We then decided on a C-Section as Chad is one to bitch and moan about a little sore throat….he would die during natural childbirth. (The guys all freaked out when I mentioned Dilating)
In the midst of out little party and all the plans we were making for our future Chad got a call from a doctor at Olin saying someone mixed up the test results and he was not preggers after all.
WEEELLLL, let me tell you what a relief that was to me. I mean I was in NO WAY ready to be a daddy. I mean I would have to get a real job, go on 3 am pickle and peanut butter runs AND deal with mood swings. Honestly, at 18 I just wasn’t ready for that shit.
However, I did wonder what it would have been like to be a dad. I would have made such a great dad. Plus, we could have TOTALLY gone on Maury’s “Baby Mama Drama” Show.
Chris got this autograph when his buddies and him went to the show a while ago. Check out the smile, Maury seems like the type to pick the name Yager Bomb for the kid.
Well last night Dave called to inform me that his mother figured out what has been ailing him. Dave has been pretty sick. (Probably with a cold, you know how men get when they are sick) Jan has decided he has Scarlet Fever, b/c “it has been going around.” Scarlet fever???
We laughed about it for a bit. Dave made a joke about being Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge. Said he couldn’t have scarlet fever b/c he’s not singing “Come What May” on a swing suspended form the ceiling.
Um, Dave, she had Tuberculosis, but it was a funny comment anyway. (Moron. SOMEONE doesn’t want E.R.)
As funny as Dr. Jan’s diagnosis was, it can’t touch what happened to Chad.
Back in my freshman year of college a terrible winter hit and as you would expect we all got sick. Chad seemed to get it the worse (or whine the most about it) so we took him to Olin Health Care Center (on campus medical place.) They did a strep test, took blood and a urine sample.
The next day when Chad called into the center for his test results he was told that his strep test was negative (only had a minor throat infection), blood test normal (no mano), and he was Preggers.
Chad gets off the phone and goes, “Well, I am going to be ok, but she just told me I was pregnant. So J, looks like even though we haven’t slept together I guess your such a good kisser u can knock guys up.”
Yes, apparently I am that good.
So, I did what any expected father would do. I grabbed Kayla (her car and Brett’s Credit Card) and went to Meijer. There we bought everything needed for a baby shower.
When the guys came into Kayla’s room that night for Pizza and dirty movie night (a whole nother story…) they were greeted with an “It’s a BOY” banner hanging over the window, a cake with a stork on it, bottles filled with rum and coke, and other little baby shower party favors.
Apparently, Tom and Matt had the same idea b/c they showed up with presents. The presents included: a breast pump, maternity pants and a “they shake me” baby t-shirt.
We also discussed baby names. Since we both agreed that the baby would not be called Charles John McCaffery IV, we came up with some more original ones. I was partial to Long Island or Yager bomb since that’s what we were drinking in the night the little one was conceived. Chad, however, favored Yzerman (for Stevie Y…Chad’s Hero.) We then decided on a C-Section as Chad is one to bitch and moan about a little sore throat….he would die during natural childbirth. (The guys all freaked out when I mentioned Dilating)
In the midst of out little party and all the plans we were making for our future Chad got a call from a doctor at Olin saying someone mixed up the test results and he was not preggers after all.
WEEELLLL, let me tell you what a relief that was to me. I mean I was in NO WAY ready to be a daddy. I mean I would have to get a real job, go on 3 am pickle and peanut butter runs AND deal with mood swings. Honestly, at 18 I just wasn’t ready for that shit.
However, I did wonder what it would have been like to be a dad. I would have made such a great dad. Plus, we could have TOTALLY gone on Maury’s “Baby Mama Drama” Show.
Chris got this autograph when his buddies and him went to the show a while ago. Check out the smile, Maury seems like the type to pick the name Yager Bomb for the kid.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Don't Cry, You Look Like a Sissy
I don’t like it when men cry. I just don’t. I don’t handle it well. Remember Tom Hanks in “A League of Their Own”?
Jimmy Dugan: Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying, there's no crying in baseball. Rogers Hornsby was my manager, and he called me a talking pile of pigshit. And that was when my parents drove all the way down from Michigan to see me play the game. And did I cry? NO. NO. And do you know why?
Evelyn Gardner: No, no, no.
Jimmy Dugan: Because there's no crying in baseball.
That’s how I feel about men crying. Now there are times in everyone’s life when crying is acceptable. A loved one dies or is dieing, babies are born (more tears of joy), you lose someone very close to you, etc.
But in most cases it’s not ok. Pull down your pants and take a look. Those are balls. Act like they are more then just decoration and STOP CRYING! You don’t need to cry b/c I ma 5 minutes later, cry b/c you can’t get your way, cry b/c they cancelled your favorite T.V. show. What are you 2?
I am a girl and I don’t even cry that much. Ok I get emotion during some movies and get a little misty, but I also have ovaries and over active hormones. It’s normal.
One of my Ex’s (shall remain nameless) liked to cry. Well, maybe he didn’t like it but he sure the hell did it enough. We would get into a fight and next thing I knew he was CRYING!!! One of our last fights ended like this:
“WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR?!”
“Well, I just don’t think you understand what’s going on”
“um, you’re crying. What don’t I understand?”
“No I meant about everything else.”
“So your natural response is to CRY? Maybe that works with Slutty McSpreads her legs, but not with me. Now, not only do I want to dump you but I want to hit you really hard.”
I mean he CRIED ALL THE TIME! We probably had about 3 or 4 big fights over 8 months and each time he started the damn crying. I was in shock! Each time I just stared with my mouth open, amazed that this guy was crying. CRYING!!
I heard he was getting married. I was thinking about sending him a wedding gift. A years supply of Kleenex and some Visine. The only thing he’s going to need more then that is a paternity test from Maury Povich. (but that’s a whooooole nother story!)
Now I am sure you are asking yourself what I think is an acceptable time to for men to cry, well here they are: (Leaving out the ones listed above. These may be added to in the future)
The 1980 Olympic Hockey Team: A bunch of kids just beat the USSR and went on to win the gold. We’ve all seen the movie, we all know the story. For them to cry, the fans to cry and the rest of us to get all misty watching the movie is understandable. ~~ Men go ahead and cry (but unless you were one of the players, don’t bawl)
Brian’s Song: Saddest made for TV movie EVER!!! And I am NOT talking about the remake from 5 years ago, I am talking about the original with James Caan and Billy Dee Williams. I’ve seen the toughest men get all misty when Brian Piccalo dies. (I cry from the minute he gets cancer until his death.) I mean even the summary is sad: “Based on the real-life relationship between teammates Brian Piccolo and Gale Sayers and the bond established when Piccolo discovers that he is dying.”
You are an athlete and you just won a National Title / Championship: You’re happy, it’s over and you are the world Champions. Nothing, not even sex, is greater then this moment. For one year you are the BEST. Go ahead an shed a few….you deserve it!
You are an athlete and you just lost a big game: Ok sure every game is important, but I am talking NBA finals, MARCH MADNESS, Super Bowl Important. You’re a team that was supposed to go all the way or at least not loose the first game. Your emotions are high and your feeling pretty low. Just ask J.J. Reddick or Adam Morrison. They were supposed to be the NCAA “IT” boys who would lead their teams all the way…..they are home right now, eating cheetos. It sucks. So shed a few, but try to be a real man about it and DON’T throw a temper tantrum and maybe….just maybe…cover your face a bit….you’re not trying to win an Soap Opera Award.
So if you are a guy and you are about to turn on the water works, just ask yourself. Is what you are about to cry over something worth crying over? Do you really want to be known as the crier?
Yes, as women we do want our men to be sensitive (to a POINT) but if your definition of sensitive is crying all the time…..then you might want to either change that or look for a date in Boystown.
Note: This was inspired by ESPN columnist Brian Murphy. Check out his anti-crying campaign here: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=murphy/060328
UPDATE 3/29/2006 @ 9:34 a.m:
I found a picture of my Ex. I know I said I wouldn't name names, but here is a picture of him crying....so I thought I would share.
He could be a little dramatic at times.
Some more examples:
Acceptable:
A Little Much:
Jimmy Dugan: Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying, there's no crying in baseball. Rogers Hornsby was my manager, and he called me a talking pile of pigshit. And that was when my parents drove all the way down from Michigan to see me play the game. And did I cry? NO. NO. And do you know why?
Evelyn Gardner: No, no, no.
Jimmy Dugan: Because there's no crying in baseball.
That’s how I feel about men crying. Now there are times in everyone’s life when crying is acceptable. A loved one dies or is dieing, babies are born (more tears of joy), you lose someone very close to you, etc.
But in most cases it’s not ok. Pull down your pants and take a look. Those are balls. Act like they are more then just decoration and STOP CRYING! You don’t need to cry b/c I ma 5 minutes later, cry b/c you can’t get your way, cry b/c they cancelled your favorite T.V. show. What are you 2?
I am a girl and I don’t even cry that much. Ok I get emotion during some movies and get a little misty, but I also have ovaries and over active hormones. It’s normal.
One of my Ex’s (shall remain nameless) liked to cry. Well, maybe he didn’t like it but he sure the hell did it enough. We would get into a fight and next thing I knew he was CRYING!!! One of our last fights ended like this:
“WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR?!”
“Well, I just don’t think you understand what’s going on”
“um, you’re crying. What don’t I understand?”
“No I meant about everything else.”
“So your natural response is to CRY? Maybe that works with Slutty McSpreads her legs, but not with me. Now, not only do I want to dump you but I want to hit you really hard.”
I mean he CRIED ALL THE TIME! We probably had about 3 or 4 big fights over 8 months and each time he started the damn crying. I was in shock! Each time I just stared with my mouth open, amazed that this guy was crying. CRYING!!
I heard he was getting married. I was thinking about sending him a wedding gift. A years supply of Kleenex and some Visine. The only thing he’s going to need more then that is a paternity test from Maury Povich. (but that’s a whooooole nother story!)
Now I am sure you are asking yourself what I think is an acceptable time to for men to cry, well here they are: (Leaving out the ones listed above. These may be added to in the future)
The 1980 Olympic Hockey Team: A bunch of kids just beat the USSR and went on to win the gold. We’ve all seen the movie, we all know the story. For them to cry, the fans to cry and the rest of us to get all misty watching the movie is understandable. ~~ Men go ahead and cry (but unless you were one of the players, don’t bawl)
Brian’s Song: Saddest made for TV movie EVER!!! And I am NOT talking about the remake from 5 years ago, I am talking about the original with James Caan and Billy Dee Williams. I’ve seen the toughest men get all misty when Brian Piccalo dies. (I cry from the minute he gets cancer until his death.) I mean even the summary is sad: “Based on the real-life relationship between teammates Brian Piccolo and Gale Sayers and the bond established when Piccolo discovers that he is dying.”
You are an athlete and you just won a National Title / Championship: You’re happy, it’s over and you are the world Champions. Nothing, not even sex, is greater then this moment. For one year you are the BEST. Go ahead an shed a few….you deserve it!
You are an athlete and you just lost a big game: Ok sure every game is important, but I am talking NBA finals, MARCH MADNESS, Super Bowl Important. You’re a team that was supposed to go all the way or at least not loose the first game. Your emotions are high and your feeling pretty low. Just ask J.J. Reddick or Adam Morrison. They were supposed to be the NCAA “IT” boys who would lead their teams all the way…..they are home right now, eating cheetos. It sucks. So shed a few, but try to be a real man about it and DON’T throw a temper tantrum and maybe….just maybe…cover your face a bit….you’re not trying to win an Soap Opera Award.So if you are a guy and you are about to turn on the water works, just ask yourself. Is what you are about to cry over something worth crying over? Do you really want to be known as the crier?
Yes, as women we do want our men to be sensitive (to a POINT) but if your definition of sensitive is crying all the time…..then you might want to either change that or look for a date in Boystown.
Note: This was inspired by ESPN columnist Brian Murphy. Check out his anti-crying campaign here: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=murphy/060328
UPDATE 3/29/2006 @ 9:34 a.m:
I found a picture of my Ex. I know I said I wouldn't name names, but here is a picture of him crying....so I thought I would share.
He could be a little dramatic at times.
Some more examples:
Acceptable:
A Little Much:
A Thug In Preppy Clothing
Today “Get Rich or Die Tryin'” staring Fiddy Cent (50 cent for all my non-gansta friends) comes out on DVD. Now I have not seen this movie yet, but I really want to rent it. Is it because I really like rap music? Am I a huge fan of Fiddy? Maybe it’s the summary of the movie that draws me: (from IMDB) “A tale of an inner city drug dealer who turns away from crime to pursue his passion, rap music”
WOW!!! Why wasn’t Mr. Cent nominated for an Oscar? I mean he REALLY had to go outside of character for this role. Do you think it he faced the same struggles Eminem did preparing for 8 mile? Skinny white trailor trash grows up, becomes rich white rapper, and grows as an artist by acting in a movie and playing Skinny white trailer trash. (Ok…I have to say…I love 8 mile and Eminem.)
No I want to see this movie b/c my friend Brett LOVES this movie. I think he saw it about 3 or 4 times in the theater and has been waiting for it to come out. Today he was right there when Best Buy opened and bought it. Maybe there is some misunderstood bond between Brett and Fiddy? Maybe when Brett sees Fiddy he sees something in himself that is longing to come out. Hmmmm…one would ponder….ok…let’s compare the two:
Brett Breslin:
~6’4 and built. Resembles an A&F model
~blond hair and blue eyes
~Frat boy, and not just any frat….he’s a Beta (Beta Theta Pi)
~has been known to pop his collar and wear pastel button downs (Kayla has ended that thank god)
~Upper class white boy who spent 3 years in a European Boarding School
~amazing friend
~used to be the BIGGEST man whore, but now has embraced something called commitment
~has a scar on his leg from getting tackled playing football and landing on broken glass (I don’t know…don’t ask)
~has suffered numerous injuries from Extreme Air Hockey
~Enjoys drinking, hockey, football and basketball.
~Parents divorce and was pretty much raised by grandparents
~close friends/entourage includes: Kayla, Chad, Tom, Matt, Me, Kyle, Tim, Susan and Laura
~~information compiled by Kayla and Me
Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson III
~Lived in New York City all his life
~Raised by his grandparents after his father ran out and his mother was shot when he was only eight. (his mom was only 23..yeah do the math)
~Originally wanted to be a heavyweight boxer, but eventually fell back on rapping.
~Was shot nine times, two shots hitting him in the head, the bullet that struck his face he carries as a reminder of what happened.
~Has a son: Marquise, nicknamed 25 cent
~Neither drinks alcohol nor smokes.
~Close friends / entourage includes: Eminem, Dr. Dre, the Game, G-Unit members: Tony Yayo, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, Shs Money XL and DJ Whoo Kid.
~information brought to you by IMDB.com
Ok, so I’m looking at the list and so far I see: They are both men raised by their grandparents who like sex. Both have battle scars. Brett’s are from a football game we played instead of going to class……50 cent’s are from being SHOT 9 TIMES!!!!!!!!
So I don’t get it. I guess the next step is to just rent the movie and see what’s so amazing, but I think in the end I will just realize that this is just another one of Brett’s movies that he likes for NO apparent reason.
Although who am I to judge? Two of my guilty pleasures include:
Bring It On:
Torrance Shipman: Courtney, this is not a democracy, it's a cheerocracy. I'm sorry, but I'm overruling you.
Courtney: You are being a cheer-tator Torrance and a pain in my ass!
And
Honey:
Chaz: Besides, I never mess up a kid's head, especially when his mom's in the shop.
Honey: [Chuckles] He's eight. That would have made me 14. I'm not that kind of girl.
Chaz: My bad.
Honey: We just peoples.
Raymond: Yeah, we peoples.
Chaz: You peoples? Playa, playa, how'd you swing that? I've been tryin' to be her peoples for weeks. Ain't had no luck.
Raymond: I got flow. [All laughing]
Chaz: I got flow too. You don't think I got some flow?
Raymond: Maybe not as much as me.
Come on kiddies admit it, you like one or both of these movies too! Bring It On is hysterical (male cheerleaders?? A cheer off?? Does it GET any better?) And Honey is a powerful thought driven movie with Shakespeare like dialog (see above.) With some kick ass dance moves, Romeo, Missy Elliot, and two of my favorites: Jessica Alba and Mekhi Phifer!
What are some of your guilty pleasures??? It will be between you, me and the other 2743984753920573209753298753295732895 (ok more like 6) people who read this.
WOW!!! Why wasn’t Mr. Cent nominated for an Oscar? I mean he REALLY had to go outside of character for this role. Do you think it he faced the same struggles Eminem did preparing for 8 mile? Skinny white trailor trash grows up, becomes rich white rapper, and grows as an artist by acting in a movie and playing Skinny white trailer trash. (Ok…I have to say…I love 8 mile and Eminem.)
No I want to see this movie b/c my friend Brett LOVES this movie. I think he saw it about 3 or 4 times in the theater and has been waiting for it to come out. Today he was right there when Best Buy opened and bought it. Maybe there is some misunderstood bond between Brett and Fiddy? Maybe when Brett sees Fiddy he sees something in himself that is longing to come out. Hmmmm…one would ponder….ok…let’s compare the two:
Brett Breslin:
~6’4 and built. Resembles an A&F model
~blond hair and blue eyes
~Frat boy, and not just any frat….he’s a Beta (Beta Theta Pi)
~has been known to pop his collar and wear pastel button downs (Kayla has ended that thank god)
~Upper class white boy who spent 3 years in a European Boarding School
~amazing friend
~used to be the BIGGEST man whore, but now has embraced something called commitment
~has a scar on his leg from getting tackled playing football and landing on broken glass (I don’t know…don’t ask)
~has suffered numerous injuries from Extreme Air Hockey
~Enjoys drinking, hockey, football and basketball.
~Parents divorce and was pretty much raised by grandparents
~close friends/entourage includes: Kayla, Chad, Tom, Matt, Me, Kyle, Tim, Susan and Laura
~~information compiled by Kayla and Me
Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson III
~Lived in New York City all his life
~Raised by his grandparents after his father ran out and his mother was shot when he was only eight. (his mom was only 23..yeah do the math)
~Originally wanted to be a heavyweight boxer, but eventually fell back on rapping.
~Was shot nine times, two shots hitting him in the head, the bullet that struck his face he carries as a reminder of what happened.
~Has a son: Marquise, nicknamed 25 cent
~Neither drinks alcohol nor smokes.
~Close friends / entourage includes: Eminem, Dr. Dre, the Game, G-Unit members: Tony Yayo, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, Shs Money XL and DJ Whoo Kid.
~information brought to you by IMDB.com
Ok, so I’m looking at the list and so far I see: They are both men raised by their grandparents who like sex. Both have battle scars. Brett’s are from a football game we played instead of going to class……50 cent’s are from being SHOT 9 TIMES!!!!!!!!
So I don’t get it. I guess the next step is to just rent the movie and see what’s so amazing, but I think in the end I will just realize that this is just another one of Brett’s movies that he likes for NO apparent reason.
Although who am I to judge? Two of my guilty pleasures include:
Bring It On:Torrance Shipman: Courtney, this is not a democracy, it's a cheerocracy. I'm sorry, but I'm overruling you.
Courtney: You are being a cheer-tator Torrance and a pain in my ass!
And
Honey:Chaz: Besides, I never mess up a kid's head, especially when his mom's in the shop.
Honey: [Chuckles] He's eight. That would have made me 14. I'm not that kind of girl.
Chaz: My bad.
Honey: We just peoples.
Raymond: Yeah, we peoples.
Chaz: You peoples? Playa, playa, how'd you swing that? I've been tryin' to be her peoples for weeks. Ain't had no luck.
Raymond: I got flow. [All laughing]
Chaz: I got flow too. You don't think I got some flow?
Raymond: Maybe not as much as me.
Come on kiddies admit it, you like one or both of these movies too! Bring It On is hysterical (male cheerleaders?? A cheer off?? Does it GET any better?) And Honey is a powerful thought driven movie with Shakespeare like dialog (see above.) With some kick ass dance moves, Romeo, Missy Elliot, and two of my favorites: Jessica Alba and Mekhi Phifer!
What are some of your guilty pleasures??? It will be between you, me and the other 2743984753920573209753298753295732895 (ok more like 6) people who read this.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Herpies Pop Their Collars
Roommate and I once convinced two guys at a bar that we were dolphin trainers, for no particular reason except we were intoxicated and like fucking with people. This is how the conversation went down:
Roommate walks up to me and goes “we’re dolphin trainers.”
Me: “um ok.” I walk over to the table
Guy #1: “So what do you do?”
Me: “I’m a dolphin trainer.”
Guy #2: “where do you work?”
Me: ::roommate didn’t tell me where. “The Brookfield Zoo.” (apparently roommate said the same place.....drunk assholes think alike.)
G#1: “So what do you say to the dolphins to get them to do tricks?”
Me: giving him the ‘you should know this look.’: “We don’t TALK to the dolphins. We use whistles for commands. Like when you want them to jump around the tank you go ‘doooo doo’ (whistle sound), and when you want them to go backwards on their tails its ‘doo doooooooooooooo do do.”
Roommate: “I can’t believe you’re doing out calls at the bar!”
G#2: “Ok, where do you keep the dolphins in the winter?”
Me: again giving the you’re an idiot look. “Same place you keep them in the summer, in the INDOOR TANK.”
G#1: “What do you feed them?”
Roommate: “FISH! Now, this is enough…we do NOT have to justify our careers to you two.”
Doing these things to guys at bars is fun. I mean, most of the time you’re not interested in them and it doesn’t matter what you tell them. That is until you get caught.
Now when I’m drunk I enjoy telling people my name is Zoey and I give out the phone number to Empire Carpets (and I ONLY did that in Michigan.) Its easier then telling them that they have a better chance at seeing Paris Hilton win a Nobel Peace Prize and an Oscar in the same year.
So one night I am out with Kayla and some of her friends when we are approached by some fratties with their popped collars. There were about six of us girls, and since four of them made it very clear they were either engaged or lesbians…..the fratties focused their attention on Kayla and myself. After about an hour of free drinks Pink Popped Fratty (PPF) asked for my number and so I give it to him.
Me: “Its 773-588-2300.”
PPF: writes it down and then goes “Um, I’m from Chicago to. So unless you live with the Empire Carpet man….I’ll take the hint.”
OK not to bad….then 3 days later we’re at a Red Wings game when Brett’s cousin shows up with PPF!!!
He sees me and says something to Josh. To which Josh reply’s,”yeah that's Joanie….she’s an asshole!” (Winks at me….he meant it out of love.)
PPF: “Joanie?? Wait so your name is Joanie? B/c before she gave me the carpet number she told me her name was Zoey and that her dad named her after a Moroccan Princess he used to work for.”
Kayla: about to pee her pants. “MOROCCAN PRINCESS? No she was named after her grandmother. God, are you gullible.”
Me: “Yeah sorry. I probably would have given you a chance had you not walked into the bar with a PINK popped collar, immediately ordered a red bull and vodka, and said to me ‘ Like the shirt….it can be on your floor tomorrow morning.’”
Moral of the story? If you meet me in the bar and I have been drinking….their is a 40% chance I’m going to lie to you. If you’re a guy in a pink shirt and popped collar and/or drink red bull and vodka and/or use stupid pick up lines…..that chance increases to 98%.
Basically it’s a Lie to STD ration. The bigger my chances of getting an STD are from you…..the Bigger the lies and ditch outs are going to be.
Roommate walks up to me and goes “we’re dolphin trainers.”
Me: “um ok.” I walk over to the table
Guy #1: “So what do you do?”
Me: “I’m a dolphin trainer.”
Guy #2: “where do you work?”
Me: ::roommate didn’t tell me where. “The Brookfield Zoo.” (apparently roommate said the same place.....drunk assholes think alike.)
G#1: “So what do you say to the dolphins to get them to do tricks?”
Me: giving him the ‘you should know this look.’: “We don’t TALK to the dolphins. We use whistles for commands. Like when you want them to jump around the tank you go ‘doooo doo’ (whistle sound), and when you want them to go backwards on their tails its ‘doo doooooooooooooo do do.”
Roommate: “I can’t believe you’re doing out calls at the bar!”
G#2: “Ok, where do you keep the dolphins in the winter?”
Me: again giving the you’re an idiot look. “Same place you keep them in the summer, in the INDOOR TANK.”
G#1: “What do you feed them?”
Roommate: “FISH! Now, this is enough…we do NOT have to justify our careers to you two.”
Doing these things to guys at bars is fun. I mean, most of the time you’re not interested in them and it doesn’t matter what you tell them. That is until you get caught.
Now when I’m drunk I enjoy telling people my name is Zoey and I give out the phone number to Empire Carpets (and I ONLY did that in Michigan.) Its easier then telling them that they have a better chance at seeing Paris Hilton win a Nobel Peace Prize and an Oscar in the same year.
So one night I am out with Kayla and some of her friends when we are approached by some fratties with their popped collars. There were about six of us girls, and since four of them made it very clear they were either engaged or lesbians…..the fratties focused their attention on Kayla and myself. After about an hour of free drinks Pink Popped Fratty (PPF) asked for my number and so I give it to him.
Me: “Its 773-588-2300.”
PPF: writes it down and then goes “Um, I’m from Chicago to. So unless you live with the Empire Carpet man….I’ll take the hint.”
OK not to bad….then 3 days later we’re at a Red Wings game when Brett’s cousin shows up with PPF!!!
He sees me and says something to Josh. To which Josh reply’s,”yeah that's Joanie….she’s an asshole!” (Winks at me….he meant it out of love.)
PPF: “Joanie?? Wait so your name is Joanie? B/c before she gave me the carpet number she told me her name was Zoey and that her dad named her after a Moroccan Princess he used to work for.”
Kayla: about to pee her pants. “MOROCCAN PRINCESS? No she was named after her grandmother. God, are you gullible.”
Me: “Yeah sorry. I probably would have given you a chance had you not walked into the bar with a PINK popped collar, immediately ordered a red bull and vodka, and said to me ‘ Like the shirt….it can be on your floor tomorrow morning.’”
Moral of the story? If you meet me in the bar and I have been drinking….their is a 40% chance I’m going to lie to you. If you’re a guy in a pink shirt and popped collar and/or drink red bull and vodka and/or use stupid pick up lines…..that chance increases to 98%.
Basically it’s a Lie to STD ration. The bigger my chances of getting an STD are from you…..the Bigger the lies and ditch outs are going to be.
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