Mere's

PSA posters....circa 1937

2011-12-30T15:06:00.032-06:00

I made my profile picture a poster about pneumonia...as I have pneumonia. Obviously armed with peasant stock and viking blood, I do not feel the effects of pneumonia as the average weak person does. Nonetheless...I have it.

This poster is circa the late 30's and was created by the WPA. I am not smart and don't know what that is. I am also lazy so all I know from wikipedia is that it is some New Deal thing. I read the first line and that was that. So it seems the WPA made posters to educated the people. Like a PSA.

I love these posters.

#1:

What the hell is this? Why does it not say what 6 + 8 equals. Who is this helping? What am I missing. I fear I may be an idiot.

#2:

What? Is this informational? Is this designed to bring horror or joy? Is this good or bad? I need more direction.

#3:

You too can have one of those dishwashing jobs you have always dreamed of. What?

#4:

What? They had e-vites in the 30's?

#5:

The teacher of this class sucks. Why is that person's eyes the opposite of cross-eyed? Is that even humanly possible.

#6:

No way Jose. If the government is advertising for folks to move in....I can't imagine what goes on...

#7:

Again with the sketchy storekeeper...what was going on with produce in the late 30's? Were all storekeepers shady? It is somewhat horrifying. Yet brings me back to the question I asked on Facebook...why do we have tamper proof seals on various dairy products but produce just sits out for anyone to inject a syringe of anthrax into? Who? Who is this dairy menace that is a threat to whipped cream?

#8:
wait...wait...wait...so is this the time before federal regulations? I would assume the milk man isn't soliciting crappy milk....but that is me. Happy to pay taxes to ensure I don't need to worry about such things - me. Wait - is this what people want? A society free of gov't regulation so we can PERSONALLY worry if milk was properly tested for disease? Odd.

#9.

The number of syphilis posters is disturbing. Apparently it was a real issue.

#10.

Is this a drinking and driving poster or are they telling you not to mix gasoline with your whiskey? Was that a popular cocktail. I really am lead to believe it is the later. I don't think it was even against the law until 1983.....at the earliest.

#11.

Like I said...lots of syphilis in those days...

#12.

Vague. So vague and so horrifying. What is going on? Did the common housefly have a deadly disease?

#13.

timeless

#14.

This explains the unaffectionate generations of 'ol.

#15.

Maybe the picture should show a man with gloves on....or some other contraption that involves hand protection.

Down with it.

2011-11-11T22:40:00.003-06:00

I hate this:

FIRST LINE: "I am a college senior" The fact this little bitch is about to go on some self righteous diatribe and is a college senior - presumably 21 years old - is hilarious. It is hilarious to anyone that was 21. Yes - we all think we know everything at that age. But then we grow up a realize we knew shit about shit. The people that HONESTLY think they did in fact have it figured out at 21 or any age - ARE ASSHOLES that know SHIT about SHIT.

Dear Dummy,

I have some points to make:

1. You make minimum wage, work less than full time, and have no debt. Perhaps you should refrain from wasting your time writing shit on giant paper with a Sharpie (I'd love to know HOW YOU AFFORDED the Sharpie and that fancy paper - neither is cheap - they are strictly a middle class purchase not for the poverty level you live in) you should write a book, get your own TV show. Suzie Orman has NOTHING on your financial brilliance.

2. A state university? You act like that is a sacrifice. MOST PEOPLE go to state universities. OH.MY.GOD. Do you also make the sacrifice to breathe the same air as everyone? Drive on the same roads? WOW. You are a humanitarian.

3. You started saving for college at 17? WHAT THE FUCK? UNLESS you started school at 30 --- this statement is ABSURD at best. On this statement alone - you should have your degree revoked.

4. You got 'decent' grades and received NOT ONE...BUT TWO scholarships. Ok...I am going to call you BULLSHIT. You got decent grades and enrolled at a decent university and have scholarships flowing out your ass? Are you disabled? An orphan? A minority? Something is setting you apart. STOP BEING AN ASS!!!!

5. A scholarship is a handout you fucking asshole!!!!

6. The laundry list of shit you don't have. I don't have half that shit. WHY is this a sacrifice? When I was in college, we had a saying in my house "the alley shall provide"....when we needed a piece of furniture we would just roam alleys looking for shit. Stop being a little bitch. We've all been there. Some more than others.

7. Oh golly! And the rest - well...you got IT ALL FIGURED OUT!!! Congrats. I got news for you sweetheart, you live in a dream world. I hope life continues to be a piece of cake as it has been so you can look down on everyone else. Everyone else that has also worked hard and found themselves in situations they NEVER thought they'd be in when they were a know-it-all college senior.

When You're a Jet, You're a Jet

2011-11-07T17:41:00.007-06:00

...from your first cigarette till your last dying day!!!!!!!!!!!

OR....something like that. It's from West Side Story.

I love a good musical.

I have a story in my life where I say "it was like West Side Story"

I like it. NO. I LOVE saying that.

What happened? Me. I happened.

There was a disagreement of some sort at a Filibertos.

Filibertos is a popular Mexican eatery for drunks. I could write an entire blog post about Fils. How you order. How you don't. How I nearly died on a bike trying to keep balance while holding a burrito while drunk. How I found a giant raw shrimp in the middle of my "Arizona burrito, no pico, plus sour cream"....but I won't. We are focusing on one evening.

So...some disagreement. Some white girls and some Hispanics.

West Side Story.

I, drunk, ironed it out. I wanted to make peace. Then , I, drunk, JUST HAD TO HAVE the last word. The Hispanics walk to the door. I am kneeling at a booth, holding a soda in my hand. I say some smart ass thing as they are walking out the door. The dude looks at me. "ahh crap" I think...just pissed him off. He back hands me across the face, knocks my drink out of my hand.

My friend, Mary, is up before my drink even meets the wall. She grabs him, punches him in the face.

IT. IS. ON.

WEST. SIDE. STORY.

I did nothing in this battle but provoke it. I didn't throw one punch. This shames me. But, it was confusing. I wasn't prepared. The insanity was overwhelming.

Suddenly there was punches to the head and screaming. At one point someone picked up one of the Hispanics and threw him across a condiment stand and straws went flying everywhere. It was the 4th of July of straws.

I am not kidding. You take away the blades and queer dancing...it was West Side Story.

I remember looking over at the workers at one point and they were all behind walls, watching with only their heads poking out.

It is Arizona. I can't believe no one had a gun. Someone yelled they were calling the police. My other friend said "NO NO NO. We are drunk, no calling the police".

The Hispanics left at a police threat and someone did call. The police were there in moments but the Hispanics already left. They were not new to crime. This was not their first rodeo, they backed their car out of the parking lot. In AZ we don't have front license plates so...this is a good idea. We couldn't get a plate number.

The police talked to us about it. One said "let me get this straight, you girls got in a fist fight with some Mexican thugs, are unharmed, and they ran away?"

Yes...yes...that is true.

It is a lesson to all. Do not fuck with me or my friends. Mostly my friends because I was worthless in this event.

The Unneccessary Honk

2011-10-19T19:23:00.014-05:00

The number one thing in this world that sends me straight from calm normal human to an outraged, uncompromising, blind with rage lunatic is...the unnecessary honk.

Nuclear weapons? Child pornography? Genocide? No..no.no.no....couldn't care less.

AN UNNECESSARY HONK? OH YES! You give me an unnecessary honk and you have unleashed a God damn maniac.

I turn into one of those cartoon characters where they go red from toe to head and steam starts coming out of their ears. Then I squirm around in my seat screaming "DID YOU JUST FUCKING HONK AT ME?", but I am held in the seat belt, unable to move as erratically as I'd like.

That is when I become the person that likes to live dangerously. The person that is just begging to get shot.

I was reminded of this issue of mine because I got a U.H. when I was parking my car this evening. I park on the street. I saw someone was leaving. I pulled my car tight to the car behind it as to allow others to pass and put on the blinker. To everyone in the free world this means "go around me, fine sir, I'll be parking here". NOT to the dimwit that came up behind me 2 minutes later. He honked.

I didn't react as I normally would have. I just did a lesser restrained freak out and said "are you fucking mentally disabled? I am looking to park, go around me you dummy".

What the hell was that honk for? He did go around me. He had plenty of room.

I am not sure what more I could have done. Put out flares? Hire ramp workers to signal to this fool I was parking. I don't have the money for that every time I need to p-park...more importantly - I don't need the witnesses when my p-park skills are lacking.

I was so much calmer than normal. What is with me?

Typical me would have done what is right in this situation: Swing my car out into the middle of the road as to not let him pass.

I have a thing I do. If someone dare give me an unnecessary honk - I will do all in my power to give them reason to honk.

I am not talking about the polite honk that says "dude...go!"

I am talking the angry laying on the horn honk, like they are signaling me that I am about to murder a human honk.

Am I a perfect driver? Of course not. But, I have been driving for 18 years and I have never been in a real collision. I think that says something. The only times my car has met another car:

A cab driver hit me, he was in the wrong and there was no damage. I have NEVER in my life had someone look at me with such hate. BUT - I think he was angry I was a woman driving a car and that I was wearing western clothing. I kid you not...never have I had someone look at me like that.

Then there was that incident with the Special Olympic bowling team - BUT - I still say - not my fault. That bitch driving around the team let the person she hit go...whatever - long story. Point is - never have I been in an car damaging collision.

THE TIMES WHEN I LOST MY MIND ON THE UNNECESSARY HONKER:

CASE #1:
I was in the lane to make a left turn onto Western Avenue from Peterson. Two busy thoroughfares of Chicago. The light went yellow.

I have this crazy thing where...I value life. My life in particular. I don't trust other people. SURE! It's YELLOW...so go make your turn. FUCK NO. Until I am sure the cars coming towards me, in the lane I will travel across, are slowing down...I don't turn. I don't need them to be at a stop. I just want to make sure they have noted the light shall soon be red. See above, I have never ended up in a light post. I don't plan on it. SO...I make sure. I have spaced out and ran a red light. It doesn't make you a bad person! They are accidents. I just believe we are all responsible and it doesn't come down to just obeying lights. You need to have the sense that some people don't. I'm not willing to die or injure myself or anyone in my car to say "they should have stopped" NO.

Well...asshole in the BMW apparently doesn't think like me. He thought I should dart across the road the moment it turned yellow. When he was in the midst of his angry honk...and the light was still yellow.

OH HOHOHOHOHOH.... REALLY? He...fucked with the wrong Jetta.

I did my freak out and said "OHHH - you just got your reason to honk asshole"
The dude made the turn with me...into the close lane. I watched his ass...moved into the farther lane. So did I. I wanted to fuck with him. So when the traffic on Western was going he was stuck behind me. Behind me as I went 15 MPH. Dude is going bananas. I am laughing my ass off and screaming "Oh! YOU HONKED MOTHER FUCKER, I'M GIVING YOU A REASON FOR THAT HONK!" Traffic is just cruising along while he is again honking and I am driving 10 -15 MPH and he is trapped behind me.

Traffic clears and he gets in front of me and does what I was doing. WHAT? I am laughing...laughing. Throwing my head back in fits of laughter. IS this dude serious? I was the one going 10 MPH before, why would I care?

THEN HE STOPPED.

He stopped for all of one second but...thoughts in your brain race...

CRAP...I had visions of this madman getting out of his car, pulling me through the window and beating me senseless. I knew the razor I use to get old city stickers off was in my glove compartment. God bless city stickers, I thought, the only reason I have a weapon of sorts in my car.

But - he drove off and that was that.

I wonder if he still honks like that. But - more...I wonder if he really thinks giving someone a taste of 'their own slow driving medicine' actually works....negative.

Case #2:

Newly laid off and in a not so fantastic mood, we had street cleaning. My car was parked on the side to be cleaned. So at around 7:15 AM I was up and went out to move my car. I was driving in circles around the one way hell that is my hood. I turned onto Sunnyside, the street I reside, from an alley. I got to the stop sign, noted no one was behind me. I know, I know, it is annoying when some one is creeping around in their car looking for spots. No one was behind me. About 2 seconds later...I am up the block and some bitch is laying on her horn. Laying on her horn in a residential neighborhood at 7:20 AM.

In general..I fancy myself the police in this hood. Noise late at night or too early...I call the police. I am outside and someone blows the stop sign in front of the park where children play? I scream at them they missed a stop sign. If I am out front and they don't make a stop that I believe is complete enough...I meander out into the road...pausing...slowly walking. I make them stop - I make them pay for that faux stop. I am 75, if not 90 years old at heart. I am a crazy, cranky old lady. I am proud.

So, I was not happy that this bitch came barreling down the road AND was blowing her horn at an early hour.

I had to let go of my passion for quiet mornings to teach her a lesson.

I knew what she doing. She was using Sunnyside, my street - as an alternative to Montrose. NO. That is not what this street is. It is residential street with a park on it where children play. I will not have maniacs driving down it.

SO....I get the honk.

If it was a kind beep things would have been different. BUT it was an angry honk, she put some pressure and laid on it. Even then, had I NOT noted 2 seconds before that no one was there, I would have let it go. BUT - she was clearly in some kind of hurry as she was not on the street 2 seconds before.

AND....my beast is released.

I do my freak out that she honked then go. SHE HONKS AGAIN.

OH - IT IS ON. IT IS ON.

I stop.

She is laying on the horn. She stops. I go. She lays on it...I IMMEDIATELY STOP.

There was absolutely NO classical conditioning with this woman. I was actually at one point yelling that she was dumber than Pavlov's dog.

More importantly...I was SOOOO amused. I was JUST laid off.

I am looking at her in the rear view, windows open, screaming to her "LADY, I GOT NO JOB, VICTIM OF THE ECONOMY! I GOT NO WHERE TO BE, LAY ON THAT HORN, I'LL SIT HERE ALL FUCKING DAY...I GOT NO WHERE TO BE...I'LL PUT IT IN PARK, WANT TO SEE ME PUT THIS IN PARK??"

Victim of the economy - this bitch was messing with a distraught, depressed, confused, overwhelmed victim of the economy.

I held my ground. It was probably the most entertainment I had in 2 weeks. She got off the horn...I drove. She got on the horn...I stopped. It took about 10 minutes to get 1/16 of a mile. Again - I don't get what she didn't get. A dog, a fucking dog would have figured it out by then.

So glad she has a job....her being a genius and all....

I am fairly certain it was after that fiasco...I climbed the 3 flights of stairs, sat down and thought - that may have been slightly irrational. I needed to get my shit together. There would be no help. There would be no cheering squad. There would be no one helping me or telling me what to do. There wasn't a husband to give me health insurance. There was no roommate to split bills with. It was just me. I'd like to say I wasn't proud of that maniac in the car. But that would be a lie. I do like her. She doesn't take as much crap as pre-laid off Mere did, she speaks up more.

The Demise of America...

2011-08-09T16:26:00.027-05:00

What is the demise? Is it the financial ruin we may face? The polarizing of our great nation over politics? Is it corn syrup?

The answers to the above are: NO. NO. and NO.

It is the TV programing of: The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and The Bachelor Pad.

I have never been an avid viewer of this garbage.

That is a lie.

I recall a certain group of hung over girls that chose to stay in their hotel room all day in New Orleans and watch an entire season of The Bachelor instead of facing the brutal heat, humidity, and raw sewage smell of the city.

Side note: New Orleans is a lovely and charming city, it is a city everyone should visit at least one. BUT DO NOT go there in August.

I have, on occasion, watched an episode to laugh at it and bolster my self esteem. I kept up with most of Jake's season. Mostly because that Jake is a complete tool and I was amazed that these women thought he was a catch. I assume all the bachelors are of this ... 'quality'.

The other night I helped myself to some Bachelor Pad. I don't really understand the premise of this show and that really doesn't matter. It was so terrible, I had to flee from my friend's apartment so I wouldn't have to watch another second.

Don't get me wrong, there is a huge comedy aspect to this crap programming. But, this Bachelor Pad situation has taken a turn. A bad turn.

You can only yell at a TV screen so much and tell someone they are out of their minds so much before it gets old. Then you just get filled with annoyance and anxiety which is not feelings anyone wants.

For instance: The part I saw is this Vienna moron getting worked up that Jake the Tool might join the group. How emotionally awful that would be. wa wa wa cry cry cry

I have a fucking crazy ass idea, VIENNA....if it is that horrifying, don't go on the TV show. YOU KNOW he might be on it. Why would you put yourself in a situation you claim to be so heart breaking?

For instance - A horrifying situation for me is getting mauled by a lion. Hence - I do all in my power to refrain from jumping into the lion exhibit at the local zoo. Even if the lions are not currently in the outside area...I still don't jump in!

Side note: I actually have been in the lion exhibit at Lincoln Park Zoo...but I was in on business and personally witnessed the lions were secured.

In another situation...a woman said that she was attracted to this man because he used 'big words'. In the scene before that...the 'big word' he used was: dysfunctional.

OHHHHHHH to be simple and consider dysfunctional to be a big word. I pray to all the gods currently and previously worshiped on this earth, the producers cut something out to make her look a fool.

I get this is all about ratings and this is what people like to see. But, I will not subscribe to this tomfoolery! EVERYONE STOP WATCHING THIS HORSESHIT! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD - BRING BACK THE SITCOM!

Oh wait...what do I hear?

Perhaps you assume I am just some bitter, old, single lady. A bitter, old, single lady that doesn't believe in true love. True, manufactured love that only elaborate, cross-country casting calls, several cameras, and a prime time network TV slot can supply.

NO.

Perhaps you think I hate this programming so much because I am not the type of girl that could be on it so....I MUST be jealous.

NO.

1. Let's discuss these men and women together:

What are these jobs they have?

Who has the ability to leave their job for several months to embark on an 'adventure of love'? This is sweet, sweet America. You are lucky if you get 3 weeks vacation in this country. The only way you get more than a month off and are guaranteed a job upon return is if a human being comes out of your vagina. I am not aware of the "I Am Pathetic And Need To Go On A Game Show To Find Love Act" that allows for this time.

Do they all have shit jobs?

When they say they are a 'marketing specialist' do they actually stock food at the grocery store and consider the arrangement of soup cans to be marketing?

Let's say they left a decent job for their 'journey of love'...have they seen the news? The world's economy isn't doing great. Do they expect to just jump into another job with 'The Bachelor/ette Pad' on their resume? What? Does that look good?

This must be the same mentality people use when spending $50K on an M.B.A. from an on-line university.

Newsflash: Wasted a whole lotta money and time on something that makes you look foolish and will get you nothing. Contrary to the ads...you are NOT a phoenix rising from the ashes...you are a dirty park pigeon eating out of an ash tray.

Oh wait - it IS SO endearing and romantic how they gamble everything on this 'journey'...isn't it?! They have such FAITH IN LOVE!! WHAT!?! WHAT!?! NOOOO!

Would it be adorable and touching if I my broke-ass drove my 2000 Jetta down to Vegas, hoisted the Jetta up on Red 5, and got all teary eyed and said into a camera "I just have so much faith in this process, I've never had luck here but I believe it it!!! I know that I'm gambling everything I have...but it will be worth it!"????

No. No. No. Dumb. You'd say I was an idiot.

2. Let's discuss the men:

I don't even want to be friends with or even remotely acquainted with a man that has toyed with the idea of being on this TV show.

It is gay to be a man on these programs. And by gay I mean both the controversial '80's/90's slang for lame and homosexual.

I can't imagine any dude I know wanting to appear of this program. I am cool. I have cool friends, not lame ones. Why would some lady want to be on this show? To meet lame dudes? I just don't get it. The dude selection is weak.

If they aren't lame, they are homosexuals. Homos that just can't admit they are homos. They have gone to great lengths to appear on a lame hetero dating show in an attempt to prove to Nana that they are straight and deserving of an inheritance. This is the only explanation...it is 2011...everyone is cool with gays. If you aren't cool with the gays - you are far more lame than the jags on The Bachelore/ette/ Pad.

3. Finally, the women:

They are all beautiful and hot. They have the outgoing personality to appear on TV.

Beautiful, hot, outgoing.....that is the recipe for finding a husband.

CLEARLY - these women are extremely and severely flawed in some manner that hides deep beneath the skin...a psychotic manner. THESE are the women that gave women the "crazy bitch' name. These are the women that guys go on a two dates with...dude doesn't call them again and before he knows it there is a rabbit boiling on his stove.

Again - only reasonable explanation.

OH...I hear it.....you are thinking one of two things:

a. But Mere, you are so stunningly beautiful and single in your old age, are you a crazy bitch?

Answer: NO. I am a fattie. A 5'9" fattie. Never been thin. I have always had the chub. I go up and down in weight dramatically, but have never been at an attractive weight. The cocktail for crazy and single is "beautiful, hot, outgoing". Not hot...also not outgoing...review the recipe.

b. You are just jealous of those beautiful, hot, outgoing girls!!!!!

Answer: NO. If I was hot and outgoing in addition to my amazing looks, grade-A sense of humor, and far above average intelligence...I would rule the world. Frankly, I don't want that kind of responsibility. This is an excellent example of how God is fair - no one gets it all. More importantly, I wouldn't waste my time on some TV show of jags if I was hot.

So there it is.

I demand everyone stop watching this bullshit. At the very least...only watch it on occasion. No need to keep ratings high. It is madness.

All I want in this world is America to be restored to the secure days during the Reagan administration...where TV programing was quality sitcoms about orphans and their golden retrievers residing legally with an old dude, where a midget black boy finds a home with a well-off white couple, where an ornery butler serves an average middle class family, or another average middle class family has a cat eating alien living with them.

These real America scenarios are far more realistic than a TV show about a bunch of a hot, attractive people who can't get a date.

Guarding....guarding....

2011-08-03T19:40:00.008-05:00

I have been recently seduced by radio ads for the National Guard.

Maybe I should join the National Guard?!?! One weekend a month and 2 weeks per year. I can do that. I get a check and they pay for school. Sounds good!

This is how you get lured in. They sell it as helping your community.

Great! Super!

Then...reality set it.

#1 I am probably too old.

#2 I envision it as me throwing sandbags around when a random local river rises, beating down some unruly hippies at a Widespread Panic show, or maybe crowd controlling some drunk Croatians as an ethnic fest. This is probably not it.

#3 I thought maybe it would be like some mandatory monthly workout that I got paid for. I'd run around in mud, do a jig through some tires, scale a wall made of wood.

It is more likely I will have to wear camouflage and stand at attention or some shit which...would make me feel silly and then I would laugh.

Then...then...can you imagine? It is all Full Metal Jacket and some dude is screaming in my face "two things come from Chicago, people that work at banks and skanks, you don't look much like a banker!"

Then skank it is, sir!

Some high ranking officer would be screaming at me to climb the wall and I'd start crying like in Officer and a Gentleman or whatever movie I am thinking of.

Point is...I seriously considered this for about 12 hours - I went as far as to go on to the IL National Guard website. Which - by the way - SUCKS.

I can only assume someone in a military uniform will be buzzing my door in the next week. They know. They know I was looking.

Too bad I came to my senses. It's not all glorious sandbags and racially profiled crowd control.

Most importantly....I can not be disciplined at this age. I just can't. I can't take it seriously.

Maybe that is why there is an age limit on the military. My brain can not be properly washed, my soul not properly terrorized.

When I played rugby my coach was all over the forwards for being fat, lazy, and out of shape. My response: "Gary...you ever think maybe I don't want to be fit"

Not a good idea.

Hence...I would be discharged.

Naturally....

2011-08-01T20:20:00.008-05:00

NATURALLY - the blizzard of 2011 would be followed by the heat wave of 2011.

I have 4 digits for you: 1995

That winter we had negative 60 wind chill ... followed by the death summer of heat.

No need to consult your Almanac...I am here.

I enjoy summers in Chicago. Ever since I moved back it has been mild. A couple stretches of 90 plus but for the most part a summer of 80 degrees. FANTASTIC! Beautiful! PERFECTION!

I should have known this would not last. Now...I am bitter.

That damn blizzard was the warning...from shit winters comes shit summers.

I am a bitter, angry, sweaty bitch.

I would take the lives of numerous puppies to have The Snowtorious B.I.G. roll its 9 foot snow drifts of furry through this town right now.

Show me a cute puppy...I'll snap its neck if you can guarantee me we can keep it at 85 degrees and below for the rest of summer.

I don't kid.

I'll snap the entire helpless litter's necks. That is how serious I am about hating this relentless heat.

Then....I'll kill your grandma.

I'll smother her with a pillow. I'll smother everyone's grandmother with a pillow if it means this heat is done. It is win - win. I get an enjoyable temperature and you get your inheritance. EVERYBODY wins on my plan.

I get it. We all don't agree on temperatures...The world don't move to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you, may not be right for some. Diff'rent strokes to move the world and what not.

BUT - there is NOTHING tolerable about this weather. And let me tell you - the masses have spoken. Barely anyone is at the park: your casual book reader adult to your child in the playground to the old immigrants that drink wine and play bocce.

Most everyone is just looking out the window, "Oh look, it is sunny, it looks nice." They paw helplessly at the window like some kind of abused and forgotten shelter animal, awaiting its day of execution. They give a heavy sigh and walk away from the window, knowing it is not safe out there. No. It is not safe.

It is sad. This summer blows.

The Rickster

2011-07-31T01:42:00.002-05:00

Ricky Gervais is by far one of the funniest people on planet earth.
He is a genius.
You like the US Office? That has nothing on his is humor. He kills.

I remember in AZ years ago my friend Charlie, urging me to listen to him and this fellow, Karl. Back in those olden days we didn't have the podcast and such.

If you enjoy a laugh......

This was the latest I got that killed me.

"A barefoot dwarf, around town. Which in some countries is evil"

How does one NOT throw their head back and laugh in hysterics?

Go to:

http://youtu.be/R2WdFgp6S3w

The Adventure of Ms. Tippee Canoe Part 2

2011-07-05T23:21:00.003-05:00

I hate seagulls.

Sometimes they gather in mass quantities in the park across from my house and it sounds like a million children being tortured.

I was at the beach once and I thought someone threw a turkey sandwich at me. I became irate...wondering who threw it and where the sandwich vanished to. Then I realized...a seagull crapped on me.

Here is a gull:

Upon the Chicago River there is much diversity. One case is the diversity of the white duck. Some white ducks are normal...others are part of the Tea Party and enjoy sporting some kind of wig and toting a musket. You can't see the musket....but it was there.

I have an idea. Get yourself a pontoon boat, charge $30 per head for a haunted voyage on the Chicago River. Make up a bunch of crap and then sail past here. It is disturbing. The echoing sounds of the hounds of hell. It sounds like approximately 82 dogs trapped in a dungeon of some sort. DO NOT leave your dog at "Stay" in NorthCenter...or your dog will be part of this horrifying chorus.

I don't care for people that walk across sidewalks, blocking people like me. The people that walk at a fast pace. I certainly don't care for those that kayak across an entire river...thinking two fools would be able to navigate between them...

I enjoy telling people I use "the power of prayer" for nearly anything that seems inevitable without taking the proper precautions. For instance: last night the pilot light in my oven was out. I had smelled gas for over a week and kept turning on the burners...they work....must be fine. I never experienced a pilot light out in the oven. So, being an absurdly independent woman that likes to solve all problems by herself...IMMEDIATELY....I stuck my head in the oven and with a tiny match just started dicking around. The whole time...I knew this WAS NOT a good idea.

I relied on the power of prayer to keep me safe.

I did not rely on the power of prayer. It is just something I say when I act a fool.

I said this to some fellow river people. Amber was embarrassed. But then...like the beacon of truth..the steeple of a church emerged in the distance. Power of prayer ... indeed.

That's it. Amber and I will have more adventures one the river. I need a better shot of the spacious closet.

The Adventures of Ms. Tippee Canoe

2011-07-03T19:34:00.005-05:00

Ever since I relocated myself to Chicago, I have been wanting to row on the river. AND....suddenly it is October and the option is no longer available....next year....next year, I tell myself. Like every good Cub fan says: Next year...

Well - it finally happened! And luckily I am still in possession of the flip cam. Petro family: you may have to pry it out of my cold dead hands. I realize you have your children's milestones to record...but I have canoe voyages on a river and drunken escapades to record....

Now if you keep up with my life you know I was put at the helm of a sailboat last year after I had a few drinks. Not pretty. Well...turns out: I just plain suck at steering a water vessel. Although at the end of the two hour trip I was awesome.

This was the first video. As you can tell from the melee of the first few moments...it is not wise for someone that has never operated a canoe to attempt to use a video recording device while operating said canoe.

It is like Deliverance out on the river. Just waiting for a banjo playing inbred mutant child and some toothless hillbilly that wants to make you squeal like a pig to pop out at any moment. I'm not sure that was the right tune I was doing...anyway - my canoe partner, Amber doesn't know that difference between a horsefly and a dragonfly. She continued to refer to them as horseflies throughout the voyage although I let her know they were dragonflies. I let it go. No big deal. But...I need something to write about in this blog.

We had several crashes into the banks of the mighty Chicago River. Naturally, I was quick with the video and quick to save us. I had it all under control. The screaming was when we were tipping....never tipped over!!!

Eventually we probably pissed off some dude on his boat. Again...we had no control of the canoe. Luckily when moving out of his way we happened upon some white ducks. The Mallard is so pedestrian...I know you want to see the white ducks. And you are all racist so if ain't white...

Even the poorest folk in Chicago can enjoy the luxuries of waterfront living. Here we see someone's nest. It is possible you can not tell but they had an extremely spacious closet and their walls were decorated with priceless art by perhaps The Latin Kings or another well known 'art' group of the area.

Then we came upon a small stretch of the Chicago River that is known as the Ft. Lauderdale of the Chicago River. * Note: I realize it is "Rollin" and not "Rowin" ... but I was rowing so...it was done.

We eventually we able to take in the beauty of nature and the absolute disgust of the river. The Chicago River is wilderness and the thrills of urban pollution married into one delightful yet horrifying package. On camera you will her Amber coining the phrase "Wurban". The Chicago river is Wuburn.

We ran across some kayakers and the gentleman rolled over. Not safe...NOT SAFE. Not because of the threat of drowning but more the threat of bacteria. His female companion tried to circle back and collect his lost water bottle as not to pollute. She had a hard time and I proclaimed "When in Rome, do as the Romans do". There is already so much garbage in that shit river it need not matter. OF course because I am a self-loving ego-maniac constantly looking to amuse and delight people...I again used the Roman thing when we landed our vessel when speaking of some gum wrappers.

That's it. I can't handle anymore....it ends at Wurban....

Walking, Sweating, Awesomeness...

2011-04-13T21:32:00.010-05:00

There are 3 events I would win an Olympic Gold in if they were actual events:

1. Speed Walking
2. Sweating
3. Procrastination With Success

The Speed Walking:

It is odd, to say the least. I am not fucking around when I say I can speed walk faster than I can run. In my hay day I could walk faster than most could run. I've got people that can sign an affidavit on this. It is NOT normal. But...it is my skill. Clearly - I am a chub factory so it's not like I can run fast...but still. My speed walking is amazing. Wait - is this an Olympic sport? I hope for humanity it is not.

The Sweating:

Nothing to say here. Nothing to be proud of. I dislike those that don't sweat. I sweat opening up my mailbox. I refer to it as my highly evolved cooling system. I WILL NEVER....NEVER OVERHEAT...unless I find myself on Mercury. But even then - I'd like that challenge, call NASA.

There is a photo of the our solar system here. In the event...you should not know the order of the planets...and be put down like an old tired dog. (I know a 4 year old that can accurately name 5 of the planets...kill yourself if you can't) I'm just sayin'

The Procrastination With Success:

Yes, I know....everyone procrastinates. It is a disease that is taking over the human race. There are those that make excuses for their procras-disease, they say things like "I work well under pressure". I've been told by professionals that I need to think this about myself and stop being so hard on myself about my addiction to procrastination.

BUT - that is lame. There is a difference between 'working well under pressure' and 'being a lazy fool that likes to leave everything till the last minute'.

I am a both...more the later when it comes to normal life situations.

Working well under pressure?

What does that even mean? I don't know.

But I will tell you this: If you are in some type of emergency: you want me there. Although I am known for being a complete maniac, I can keep it together when the time comes and I have an AMAZING ability to bring up all things I've learned, been told, or trained to do:

Case 1:
My friends and I were in Mexico in the middle of no where and then again leaving a vacation spot and we were stopped by the Mexican Federales...who conveniently don't speak English (BULLSHIT). Please - get stopped in the middle of Baja California when you haven't seen another car in an hour and 4 Federales pull you over and saunter up to your car with GIANT whips, automatic rifles, and a Mexican smirk...Mexican prison here we come: SUDDENLY I CAN SPEAK some wicked awesome SPANISH. Ask me in any other occasion, all I can say is "Where is the bus", "It is not hear" "My name is Meredyth"......and that is it.

Case 2:
My friends and I wanted to play a joke on another friend and we spotted a toilet in an alley. I picked it up, by myself and was carrying it around.

On a funny side note: we were at a party later that evening and some guys= said "I saw the craziest thing earlier, this girl was carrying around a toilet like it was nothing" and I said "oh yeah....that was me"

It took two people and a struggle to remove said toilet from its joke spot: SUPER HUMAN STRENGTH. On a normal day, ask me to open a jar of spaghetti sauce and I am worthless.

Case 3:
I was driving down a long flat road with construction. It was raining. I was going about 50 - 60 and my tire went off the road. I turned my wheel slightly but it slippery. This caused my car to spin.

Have you ever had your steering wheel spin under your hands while the world spins by? Not comforting...that is pretty much what the moments before death look like.

It spun 450 degrees and I grabbed the steering wheel. Now I was going down the road side ways, my passenger window being my view of what is coming. That being a car coming in the opposite direction. Luckily WAAAY down the road because the fool decided it would be a good idea to proceed down a two lane road (one in each direction) when a car is spinning. FOOL.

This is all in slow motion, as is in these situations. The moment I caught the wheel and was skidding down the road, I let go and the wheel started spinning the other way. That is when the lessons of Driver's Ed kicked in. Never did I over correct. I just let my Mitsubishi Eclipse slide down that road, each time catching the wheel a little sooner to let it spin the other way. Eventually...I was driving straight down Power Road. I thought: I could have died or wrecked Mitzi. Died because that retard never did pull over or stop...or wrecked because I would have ended up in a cow. Back in the mid-late-90's, Power Road was nothing but agriculture and livestock: AMAZING DRIVER that recalls the lessons of driving and doesn't freak the fuck out, my heart didn't skip a beat. I was was just pissed at that driver coming my way.

Case 4:
I was tending to two lovely boys and went to change the younger one's diaper. The older one followed me in. While I was wiping ass, the older one, who was 2 years, tapped me on the leg and was pointing at his mouth which was open. To this day I am not sure if he was just showing me all the cheese in his mouth or if he was choking.

I decided it was a choke. I yelled in his face: "OH MY GOD, ARE YOU CHOKING?", I tossed the baby in the crib, grabbed the boy and flipped him upside down and hit him on the back until a sufficient amount of cheese was on the ground. I flipped him back over and asked if he was ok. He was. This is where I wasn't cool. I started crying and demanded he hug me and said "were you choking? I thought you were choking." He just looked at me like I was insane: I SAVE THE LIVES OF CHILDREN.

My friend tried to tell me my cheese dislodge method was inaccurate. But you see...being a master of emergency, I recalled that if you can lift up a person, you hang up them upside down to dislodge and I had elementary physics making sense for me: You work gravity when you can. I later confirmed with a Chicago Fire Department Paramedic that what I did was correct. Let it be known should you see a child or midget choking...or in my case, any reasonably sized adult: you flip over and beat. I got that super human emergency strength. I will flip anyone in my reading audience over and beat on your back before I start doing that laughable Heimlich Maneuver.

That summarizes my ability to 'work well under pressure'. Let's not talk about my ability to cram for tests and write amazing paper in a matter of hours. So boring. The point is: I am amazing.

But more importantly...you want me around in a true emergency...

Let's say...you are an airplane, a flight from ORD to DEN..it is hijacked by Somalian Pirates.... it could happen.

They've killed the pilots. That enormous metal beverage cart has trapped you on the ground. Your baby is choking on a pretzel.

Who do you want around? Me.

First...I quickly dislodge the pretzel so your baby can take in air.

Next...I start fighting the Somalians that are surveying the cabin. I've seen the Bourne series so naturally...I know how it is done. In the midst of this I use my pinkie to lift the beverage cart up so you can go back to your seat crying. You are weak and can not fight the good fight like me. I sneer at you and continue to kick ass.

I zip tie the pirates' hands behind their backs - they are unconscious but - have you seen movies? Bad dudes always wake up at inopportune times. And, I always have zip ties with me. You never know if your bumper is about to fall off or a criminal needs to be apprehended.

Then...I bust down the door to the cock pit. I am screaming things in....Somalian...or whatever is they speak. I am kung-fu-ing and what not. I am again zip tying...all while applying pressure to wounds and CPR-ing the plane-fliers.

I get on the controls of the plane and I am taken back to that year of ground school and air traffic control I am reading instruments and saying 'niner' and 'zulu'...YES - NINER and ZULU - that is how you KNOW - someone can fly an aeroplane. Niner....Zulu...Do they even do that??? The niner...I think so. Nine...Five...

Anyway -

I land the airplane....but for some reason you fell out and are trapped under a wheel so I slide out the cock pit window and lift up the airplane to release you.

Then I wipe off my brow and say "all in a day's work" and walk off dramatically...hopefully not to be run over by a belt loader.

I love belt loaders.....

This is the service I provide. I ask nothing in return. However - I could have written up 2 labs in the time it took me to write this garbage. But hey - those labs will get done in time...in sweet, sweet time...

Meredyth Answers Ask Amy....

2011-02-13T19:55:00.006-06:00

I decided that since I have nothing of importance going on in my life I would answer 'Ask Amy' questions. This is some type advice column featured in the Chicago Tribune.

Dear Amy: Once a year I host a family reunion for my five children, spouses and grandchildren.

I pay for all, including travel.

One of my daughters remarried last year and her spouse has a teenage daughter who is not a member of their household (except for every other weekend).

They have indicated that they would like to bring the daughter to the family reunion.

I have no problem with her coming, but my question is — should I be expected to pay for the expenses of her coming?

This is a cross-country trip, adding a total cost of about $1,500.

They have not offered to pay for her, and I wonder what you think about this?

— Generous Dad

Dear Generous Dad:

You are a fucking asshole for even asking this question.

This girl is now part of your family. Deal with it. Sadly, this girl has probably had a bit rougher of a life than your other grandchildren. Why on earth would you make her feel like more of a burden?

When my grandfather died the number of great grandchildren listed in his obituary included a great grandchild by marriage. That is how it works.

I assume you are of Greek descent? That's right, I am generalizing. I like to sharpen my generalizing skills. Let me know if you aren't Greek, I have 2 other guesses after that.

-Meredyth

Dear Amy: As a parent of three young children, I try to teach them manners in public, such as taking only one treat or toy when offered, not destroying the displays at checkout counters and not running in stores.

At the same time I am busy insisting that my kids behave well, when they misbehave the store employees (and even other customers) frequently will smile at my kids and say directly to them, "That's OK,", "No problem — he's young,", "It's OK; I'll clean this up."

This makes me crazy!

Real accidents sometimes do happen, but most of this behavior is not OK!

This response ultimately confuses my child about what is acceptable and what is not, which makes my job as a parent harder.

Sometimes other parents undermine me in this way too.

I am not an overly strict controlling mean or nasty parent!

I just believe that basic behavior rules are learned more easily when kids are young.

The oldest child is already considered one of the better behaved kids in her class.

What can I say or do when this happens without making a big fuss?

I know they all mean well. I would appreciate it if you would alert other about this.

— Frustrated Mom

Dear Frustrated Mom:

Are you serious? You want other people to disciple your children? That is not their job. Members of society generally don't want to make a huge scene where it is unnecessary. These store clerks and parents are simply being polite.

Would you rather we lived in some kind of insane barbaric society in which we screamed at each other when others were not acting the way we wanted? Ironically...that would be a society filled with people acting like children.

-Meredyth

Dear Amy: I am concerned about my mother. About one year ago she lost her job.

Since then she has become more and more introverted. She sleeps quite a bit during the day and very little at night.

She makes excuses not to leave her house. She doesn't see her family or friends. She is overweight and has a few health issues but nothing that would stop her from leaving home.

When she was approached by a family friend about applying for a job that she is qualified to do, she made excuses that simply weren't logical.

We are very concerned but are out of ideas about how to help her.

What can we do?

— Freaked Out Family

Dear Freaked Out Family:

If I had children....I'd assume this was written about me.

Do you really need to seek advice on this? The woman is DEPRESSED. Which is very typical when you lose your job. Do you really have no idea that this is textbook depression? You could have contacted a local high school student taking psychology to diagnose this. She needs to see a therapist and perhaps get on some Prozac. You know the lady...everyone is different...figure out how to urge this and stop wasting precious time writing advice columns.

God Bless your mother.

-Meredyth

G-Day

2011-02-02T00:42:00.002-06:00

It is officially groundhog day.

I'd say Groundhog's Day or Groundhogs Day .... but I'm not sure what is correct.

Why is my life ruled by appeasing those that know how to properly address an overgrown rodent that according to lore controls the seasons?

It is all nonsense. Poppycock. Bullocks. As is this blizzard.

I am done. The lack of dead bodies is super disappointing. I have all my limbs....

I'll never be on "I survived"

Nearing the end of 2/1/2011

2011-02-01T23:47:00.002-06:00

STILL....waiting for dead bodies in the streets.

I did hear a portion of Wrigley was ripped off.

It is unconfirmed.....as you all know....I was in there during a tornado and lived to tell the tale.

2/1/21:45

2011-02-01T21:38:00.002-06:00

I've gone missing for awhile. Went to my corner bar. Happy to report everything is normal. Local patrons have decided how we will take over the local community once we sort out the carnage of this storm. Unfortunately, we are still waiting for actual carnage.

I was secured with a role....but I can't remember what it was.

The good thing is....we are all managing at this time.

God bless and good bye until the next update.

Snowpocalypse 2011 17:55

2011-02-01T17:51:00.003-06:00

First of all....I am getting sick and tired of looking up how to properly spell the made up word "snowpocalypse". So....I am not using that anymore. I simply can't be bothered.

I am also like 'snowmageddon" and this storm is 'snowverated'....but quite frankly - I can't be bothered to spell those properly either.

I am fearing the worst at this point: I may run out of beer.

I sent out a message to my local bar and it seems they are open.

God bless this city's undying need to liquor themselves up.

Mostly I am worried about my faithful local bartender. I can't have him alone and bored in an empty bar. He needs me and crossword puzzle.

Snowpocalypse 2011 17:15

2011-02-01T17:08:00.003-06:00

Alright. I am cool. I decided to fill this jug with water in the event something truly unfortunate happens. I have only used this twice. Once for some delightful sangria taken upon an epic lake journey during the summer of 2010...and now for this epic blizzard.
It will now be known as 'The Epic Jug'.
I warmed up my BB gun.
I could totally be taking the this time indoors to be productive but instead I have decided that monitoring radars, drinking beer, joining a local militia, and waiting for an opportunity to loot is a better way to spend my time.

Snowpocalypse 2011 16:30

2011-02-01T16:16:00.005-06:00

The question is....

When does the looting start? I wouldn't mind a new TV.

We all know that the best time to pick up some free of charge goods is when a city is crippled by floods, fire, snow, or championship winning basketball teams.

However, this day in age I would warn against such things. This is the perfect time for 2nd Amendment enthusiasts to take over the land as our forefathers intended. They will be out to prove that our local government has no control in an emergency situation. After all, nothing goes with sheer panic over weather related conditions quite like grown men clad in wigs and revolutionary-wear carrying numerous automatic weapons.

Snowpocalypse 2011 2/1/2011 16:00

2011-02-01T15:30:00.007-06:00

I decided to drink a Bell's Winter White Ale in honor of the snow storm and my impending doom.

Which is a good time to remind you that this Storm of the Century is sponsored by Bell's Brewery. Bell's: A beer for any occasion, including but not limited to life threatening blizzards.

Shortly after finishing that beer I was sad. So I decided it was in my best interest to go to the local 7-11 for more beer. It would be risky. I was warned against this. Would I make it? Was this quest for a 6 pack worth putting my life at risk? I decided it was. I am safe.

The good news is this storm is taking over most of the country so.....that rodent will likely not be seeing his shadow. Only 6 more weeks of this blizzard and the safe arms of a tornado filled spring will embrace us.

Snowpocalypse 2011

2011-02-01T15:08:00.004-06:00

An hour by hour update on STORM OF THE CENTURY:

2/1/2011 15:15

There has been a blizzard warning for 24 hours now. Seems this is more serious than last year's 'storm of the century' since it has not been called off yet and it is actually snowing.

My building manager was snow blowing the dusting of snow from the walkway. Perhaps the joke is on me and we are in trouble.

After all, the National Weather Service issued this warning: TRAVEL IS EXPECTED TO BECOME TREACHEROUS BY LATE AFTERNOON... AND DOWNRIGHT DANGEROUS BY EARLY EVENING...BEFORE MAKING THE DECISION TO TRAVEL... CONSIDER IF GETTING TO YOUR DESTINATION IS WORTH PUTTING YOUR LIFE AT RISK.

In addition, school has been closed for tomorrow. Slightly alarming considering this doesn't happen too often.

I shall keep an eye on the radar.

I am braced and ready.

Crazy People Love Me.

2010-09-26T17:34:00.003-05:00

Crazy people love me. Mind my business and they find me. There is little I can do about this. I don't seek these people out. They come to me.

I was sitting on a bench waiting for a train, doing a crossword when a 50 year old black man sat down and began a conversation. A conversation that was uncomfortable and I did not ask for. It was really a one sided conversation because I wasn't sure how to react to it.

After making some kind of opening pleasantry about the day or the weather or something of that nature, he said "You know, my neighborhood on the southeast side is just disgusting. Black people are filthy disgusting animals that do nothing but kill each other like dogs. You can't walk down the street, kids can't go to school, all the mothers are crack addicts"

AND....here we gooooooooooooooo.

How exactly is a white person to respond to this? I certainly wasn't going to argue, it is terrible that people live in these conditions. But, since I am white, it is not my place to say anything. I just smile and nod.

"you know what those black people say? They say 'look at the Mexicans and Puerto Ricans', you know what I say? They are hard working people. They might be in gangs but they are not filthy drug addicts like all the damn black people"

WHY ME??????? WHERE IS MY TRAIN???

He went on...and on "and white people? I never seen in my life a bad white neighborhood. Black people act like white people are a problem. I say to them, white people are not afraid of their own neighborhoods. But, you know, white people are crazy too, don't get me wrong. They are crazy in their own way. They have Republicans trying to make some Tea Party. White people got nothing better to do than make a Tea Party? Go have a tea party. Why are they making a Tea Party? Stupid white people"

That...humored me. But still I wished my train would arrive.

On he went "you know, the only thing that makes someone filthy and disgusting is laziness. Black people are lazy. Lazy is what makes you filthy."

Then a train on the opposite platform arrived and a group of black people got off....

He pointed them out: "you see that, that is another thing about black people, they gotta travel in packs. Packs of lazy drug addicts. Just roaming the streets. I guarantee you they are all on the food stamps and the section 8 housing. Oh yeah, they all got their LINK cards, guarantee you that. Lazy killing dogs."

WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE??? This black man is shit talking his race like a member of the Klan. I don't understand what I am supposed to do. Doesn't he know only white people are allowed to shit talk their own kind in front of other races??? It is the golden rule of race relations. Only whites can hate on their race in the presence of other races.

This made me think about all the times I have had encounters with people like this. Why is it me? Always me? I have strange encounters with people. It could be anything: a conversation like this, a verbal assault on my whiteness, just something I was present for. I started to tally up the races involved.

Whites:
-Bizarre situation when Bank One Ballpark was being built and this crazy man that I presume was homeless.
-The free spirited man in Mexico (presumably hiding from U.S. law) that was clearly not right and then lit up a joint on the Sea of Cortez while Mexican Police boats were all around.
-The homeless woman that would spit on me and put some kind of curse on me in Latvian.

Blacks:
-This
-The man at the DMV that asked me if me or any of my friends were interested in having sex with a black man.
-The cracked out woman that was stalking me at Safeway and calling me a white bitch.
-The kid that threw a fruit flavored chew at me and called me a white bitch
-The man screaming "suck my dick" at the drive thru liquor store

Native Americans:
-The man at the Walgreens that was roaming up and down the line of white people screaming and getting in our faces about how the red man is diabetic because of the white man. I'm not sure why in the 30 minutes this was going on the police were not called. I was convinced I would be scalped if I made eye contact as did everyone else.

Hispanic:
-The girl that got in my face while I was walking into a Mexican grocery store and said: what do you think you are doing here you white bitch.

I can conclude four things from this:

1. I am a white bitch
2. Whites and blacks are insane
3. Asians don't tend to mess with giant white girls
4. Crazy people LOVE me

I thought about all this and my train was still not there. My new friend was going on and on and on. The conversation turned to me. He asked if I ever played a sport. I said I did. He asked what sport and I said rugby.

He went on to say "ohhh...you can tell. You are all thick"

This is what I love to hear.

Then he said "you must have several men fighting over you"

This is where he didn't understand white men. No white man wants a 'thick' girl. I told him he was wrong. He went on to tell me that he has never been married nor did he ever father a child, this was what he had in common.

That is where the conversation turned from typical oddness to complete insanity as it always does when you are dealing with a maniac. This is the point I love in these conversations. Just when you thought it couldn't get more absurd....it does.

He said "you know, you gotta get the sex sometimes. In my neighborhood I will buy the ladies a ten dollar rock. I have them come over to my place, but I'll never learn they are just crack addicts because they steal my toilet paper and hot sauce. I buy them rock and they steal my toilet paper and hot sauce, ain't worth it!"

Dear. God. What. The. Hell.

He goes on "you know, all black people have hot sauce. Black people love sauce, but only certain brands, the kind from Louisiana"

At this point my train was approaching. He said "This must be your train, the brown line. There is no way you'd be on the Harlem green"

I got up and told him it was nice meeting him. I am polite. There you have it. Another chapter in my book of insane people that love talking to me.

Ya get whacha don't pay for

2010-05-26T13:35:00.010-05:00

Meredyth fun fact #287: I love coupons.

There is a big difference between someone that thinks they are a good shopper and someone that is in fact so wicked awesome at it, the store pays them to walk out the door with their retail goods.

On some occasions, I am the later.

I am pretty good at getting toothpaste for free or a couple dimes, same with shampoo. Typically your Dove, Pantene and Herbal Essence can be purchased for well under fifty cents per bottle if you play your cards or rather your coupons right. And yes...this drug store shampoo is good enough for me.

There is a certain instance that I call The Trifecta of Savings:

#1 Product on sale at Target
#2 Manufacturer coupon
#3 Target coupon

BAM: That crap is nearly free. I love it. I live for this. Nothing brings me more joy.

Most recently I was in the possession of:
#1 $5 off coupon for a product known as "Scrubbing Bubbles Extend-a-Spray with Continuous Sprayer-r-r-r" No really...that triple r attack on the end of the word sprayer is actually on the bottle. Obviously the work of a genius marketing executive, nothing makes you want to purchase a product more than a bunch of r's.
#2 Target coupon for a free $5 gift card if I purchased this particular product.

SCORE! Target paid me over one dollar to march right on out of their establishment with it! I knew NOTHING about this product but since they were paying me, why not take it and clean my bathroom with it.

So I used it today and I have concluded the following:

First, this whole business where it allegedly continues to clean for four days is absolute bullocks. If you believe that, you are out of your skull. Let's be honest, we all know they only thing that is going to continue to clean anything without your effort is an underpaid immigrant with out of date papers that doesn't speak English.

But more importantly, this 'continuous sprayer-r-r-r' is what disturbed me.
a. It uses 2 AA batteries. You are not allowed to employee battery power unless the product is actually going to do the scrubbing. And no...I do not believe as the commercials insist, the bubbles in Scrubbing Bubbles products have tiny little brushes that do the scrubbing. Absurd.
b. What does happen by battery power is this: You hold the trigger down and it continues to spray as though you were pumping the trigger. Yes, ladies and gentleman - gone are the tireless days where you are forced clench, release, clench, release to dispense your product. IT IS CALLED AN AEROSOL CAN! And an aerosol can does have the added expense of batteries. (please no environment comments here for obvious reasons)
c. What in God's name caused someone to invent this? Was there a need? NO. NO there certainly was not. I refuse to believe there was. Nope. Negative. Since we do in fact have aerosol cleaners, what Johnson Company did was reinvent the wheel, a more expensive, more complicated wheel with more parts.

According to their website this product will make cleaning more simple and more manageable. WHAT ARE THEY TAKING ABOUT?
THE GOD DAMN EASIEST PART OF CLEANING IS SQUEEZING THE TRIGGER on the non-aerosol cleaning product of your choice. The hard part is finding the motivation to clean, getting on your knees to clean, reaching to clean, the removal of all items in your bathroom and the putting back to clean, the scrubbing involved. These are the hard parts. NOT SQUEEZING THE TRIGGER.

No one sits around and thinks: 'I would totally clean this bathroom if only I did not have to be bothered with the burden of a squeezing the trigger on my bathroom cleaner. If only, if only there was a product that made that part of cleaning simpler. I am exhausted just thinking about the calories I will burn doing all that clenching and releasing of my right hand."

Congratulations Johnson Company. You have simplified the effortless portion of the cleaning process. I can only hope there is some type of award for this type of brilliance in innovation.

It is clear to me why I was paid take this off the shelves of Target.

I pity the fool that pays any amount for this.

The Toilet: Really...it is all very simple

2009-11-21T23:53:00.011-06:00

There are moments in life that I appreciate.

For instance: When I am reminded that I am smarter than the average bear.

But this moment is bittersweet...when we are speaking of the simple mechanics of an invention from the 18th century. While I enjoy the fact that my brain functions....I am sad that I live in a society of complete morons. And I become perplexed on how they have survived to adulthood.

I was at a bar recently waiting to use a toilet. A girl came out and said "I do not know how to flush that. I am so sorry"

"no problem" I said.

I assumed the chain fell off. If you know anything about a toilet you know what I am talking about.

Then I saw the top of the toilet was removed. Whatever. I do my business and then I see that there is no flush handle.

So you see - the whole reason the lid was removed was because the proprietor of this establishment assumed any person of American drinking age would be able to reason through the simple workings of the toilet tank.

This person was wrong.

For some reason this individual that most likely has a license to operate an automobile, is permitted to vote and is able to reproduce and raise offspring - could not figure out that you simply had to lift the metal rod on the inside to activate the flush.

Duh.

I went out to speak with my friend about this situation and I learned that she was in there and she was the first person in multiple uses to actually flush it.

You have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

I could see if the girl was being a pussy and the chain was off and for some reason she did not want to stick her hand in the tank to attach it. But, there was no contact with the water to flush (the clean water - mind you. The same shit you drink. The water system is not that complicated. It is all the same shit. Use your brain. If it was toxic or a tank of acid that would burn your skin off - CLEARLY, it would not be sitting there exposed. Even if the lid was on - they would be forced to mark it as a danger, if it was. Come. On. Think.). And even if you were stupid enough to think it was dirty...aren't you going to wash your hands anyway????

Have people really never met a toilet?
Have people really never solved toilet problems?
Have grown adults REALLY never lifted the lid of the tank and fixed an issue?

Even if you have had no experience with this, you must be mildly disabled if you can't figure it out. Unless of course this is your first time in modern society since leaving your primitive tribe or your release from your existence as a feral human.

"Oh...the flush handle is missing. Well...I can't flush it"

That is the thought process of someone that should be removed from society. If you have been wiping your own ass for 10 years or more, you should have the reasoning in your skull to figure out a toilet tank.

This is a person with very minimal reasoning's thought process:

"Oh...the flush handle is gone. Oh look...there is metal rod attached to the inside of the tank where the flush handle would be on the outside. And - if you push the handle to flush - I GUESS that moves the metal rod. Ok....ok....and that is attached to that chain. And that is attached to what looks like some kind of plug at the bottom of this tank full of water. Hmmmm...I wonder why there is this tank of water??? What is this water for? I have no clue where this water goes....BUT....since there is no aquatic life (typically) living in this tank and it is not big enough for me to swim in....hmmmm....maybe this water is some how utilized in the flush process. And MAYBE...that plug releases the water!!!! OK OK I got it. I got it!!! I need that plug to release and the plug is attached to the chain that is attached to the rod, so if I lift up the rod, I bet that would cause the chain to move. Then if the chain moves, it would pull up the plug and maybe something will happen - like the toilet will flush!!! I wouldn't put money on it. But maybe that is what happens. So the movement of the rod ends up picking up the plug. OH MY GOD....this is just like when you walk - you need to lift up your foot from the ground and you do that by picking up your leg AND NOT YOUR ARM!!!!

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS KIND AND GOOD IN THIS WORLD... Really....really...there are actual members of society that can't figure out how a toilet works?

AND...I am not even going to go into how if you press the metal rod down, that would also work. Apparently figuring out the fact that movement of the rod in one direction also works in the other would be a complex physics problem only understood by people that work at NASA.

We are not hurdling satellites into orbit, we are not splitting an atom. We are flushing a toilet. For cryin' out loud, a pinball machine is more complicated.

This is a normal person's thought process:

"oh...there is no flush handle. I'll lift this metal rod so it flushes"

This is insane. It is insane.

Do people think the flush handle is magic? A working of magic? Do people think the flush handle is like pulling a rabbit out of a hat? It has no reasonable explanation via simple movements visible to the human eye? Houdini did not invent the toilet contrary to the belief of what apparently is at least 25 percent of modern society.

You know what magic is? Magic is an iPod. Magic is this computer. Magic is talking on a phone to someone across an ocean in real time. That is magic. Indeed, that is magic. Magic...because I will never understand nor do I care to understand it.

A toilet tank? If you don't get that, if you can't figure that out - I am not sure about you. Please - do not leave your home and reside as a shut-in. You are a danger to society.

Gone....

2009-10-01T16:30:00.002-05:00

I took the serious blog post off. This is a funny blog. Not serious.
If you would like manuscript of that blog post please send a self addressed stamped envelope to me.

The Unfriendlies

2009-08-17T18:49:00.007-05:00

I do not care for unfriendly people.

You know them. Maybe you are one.

I do not like them.

There were two unfriendly men that lived in my apartment building.

One recently moved out. He lived below me. He probably hated me for this reason because everyone hates the people that live above them. However, I do my best to be a kind fellow apartment dweller. I do not walk around in shoes and when I would drop my TV remote on the wood floor, I felt bad. If I ran across the apartment, I felt bad.

But then one day a friend said to me: you live in the penthouse, man...you pay extra. Who cares?

Because - I do. I know it is annoying.

There is one jackass that still lives here. The first time I saw him, I said hello and he looked past me and did not acknowledge me. Fine. He did not hear me or he had a bad day.

The second time...same thing. Fine. Strike TWO.

The third time he developed a new skill where he simply looked to the wall as he passed me on the stairwell. This is retarded behavior.

Fast forward endless meetings to today, he was coming down the stairs with his lady friend and they were having some kind of joyous conversation so when I saw them I smiled and said "H -----" and as the H sound of Hi exited my mouth he immediately turned his head to the wall. His lady friend who has been friendly in the past did the same. So I stopped, slithered over to the banister so the royalty could pass and cocked my head to one side and squished my face in an unpleasant manner and shook it a bit, as to say 'you are a jerk...and so are you lady friend"

He is a tall man, extremely thin, without much pigment and a tiny head. Therefore - I could beat him up and I am far better looking than him.

When people of greater stregth and looks take the time out of their day to say hello to the lessers:

1. One should respond as though another member of society has spoke and in the society I am familiar with: this is NOT overlooking them or turning your head 90 degrees to avoid eye contact.

2. These are the situations in which those challenged in brawn and beauty have basically been touched by God. When one of better looks and social graces has bestowed upon you their attention, show some common decency or rather, respect.

Really...it comes down to this: I am obsessed with being well liked. When people don't like me - I freak the fuck out. First I take it all in. Blame it on myself, my actions, I dig through history trying to figure out what I did wrong. When I come up with the fact I did not kill your dog or mother - well then you lose. You are the dicksandwich.

I just want to say:

2009-08-01T00:32:00.004-05:00

I love the word: Pistol

Pistol.

Not gun, not firearm. not glock (I don't know how to spell that because I am not a gantsta and they don't know how to spell...so really: is there a proper spelling?)

Imagine...you are threatened in some manner and you raise one eye brow and look your attacker in the eye and say:

"I'll have you know....I am carrying a pistol"

This dignified approach will set the assaulter on their heels, especially if done in an English accent.

Let me tell you, not from experience but the experience in my fantasy world, this is an efficient way to ward off a mugger.

If you just yelled "I HAVE A GUN" you will get the beat down or your face blown off.

BUT..."I'll have you know .... I am carrying a pistol" is pure gold. The attacker will for that split second be trying to figure out what a pistol is, as he is familiar with gun, heat, glock, uzzie, assault rifle, etc...really I have no idea what hood talk is for gun.

This gives you just enough time to pull out your pistol or deliver a nice hard elbow to the face or fingers in the eyes.

"Don't make me get out my bayonet" would also work in this situation.

General Airport Crap

2009-07-27T17:54:00.022-05:00

I have come to the conclusion that I am NOT funny unless I am bitching about people and their absurd behavior.

So really this is just a public service announcement. Yes - I do retarded crap too....but hey: I am just sayin'.

And really - as irate as I sound in this...no no. This is actually how I keep myself calm. I amuse myself with my thoughts and scramble myself to scribble notes if I am lucky. A lot of my thoughts are lost as I don't put pen to paper it and that is sad. As when we lost music when John Lennon was shot...we loose humor on a daily basis because I am not diligent. My procrastination and ADD are my assassin. So sad for humanity.

CRAP....I crack myself up.

Back to my mission:

You may ask yourself: Where do people exhibit the most ridiculous behavior ever? The answer: The Airport. Having 8 airport experiences in 11 days: I will now give my report.

Annoying Airport Behavior:

The Wonders of a Metal Detector:
I have a crazy idea: If you know you are going to be passing through a metal detector - refrain from wearing every piece of jewelry you and your family own. Leave it in the family vault or a safety deposit box down at the local bank. There is no need to traipse through the airport in 19 necklaces, a giant watch and 45 bracelets. You are dressed like some sort of high end Tin Man. If only you had a brain, the security line would not be backed up.

And if you choose to do that can we PLEASE not play that old time favorite family game: what piece of metal is causing the alarm to go off?

I hate that game. I hate it. But there are people that insist on playing it.

You have plenty of time to start disrobing your metals before you go through. Just take it all off. Take off the jewelry. Get the belt off. Remove the roll of quarters from your pocket. Have you never traveled? Take off the coat. Take the lap top out of the case, remove the stupid bag of liquids, for cryin'out loud: take off your shoes. We are not all standing here shoeless for fun. There is not a trampoline on the other side of the security that we are ready to pounce in. Fool, take note of your surroundings. What else have you been doing for the past 20 minutes?

And as useless as you may think that all is. JUST DO IT. The Head of Homeland Security is not running the X-Ray machine at Terminal One, Security Check Point 3, Line 2 at O'Hare International Airport...odd as that seems to you - he is not. So stop acting like your civil liberties have been compromised and just do it so we can all move on to the next chapter of our lives. What is the use in making a deal of it?

Write a letter expressing your dissatisfaction. I have wrote essays to corporations on lesser crap.

You know who you are. You know the routine. You have seen it.

You go through: beep beep beep. You empty your pockets.
You go again: beep beep beep. Off go the watch and 98 bracelets.
You go again: beep beep beep. Now the belt comes off

Unless you are a card carrying member of the I-Have-Metal-Beneath-My-Skin-Club...this should not happen. No one should ever go through the MD more than 2 times.

For fuck's sake. Take off all metal or metal like substance before you enter the detector.

Use the fucking word: Metal Detector. It is not a clever name. It simply detects fucking metal. So remove it from you and be done with it.

Really...why aren't we thinning the population with this? Apparently the population of the U.S. would be a mere million if we did.

Say it with me: METAL DETECTOR - figure it out.

Dress Code:
There should be a dress code for air travel. Because, quite frankly, I do not enjoy setting my eyes upon fools.

I don't care if your flight is 45 minutes or 16 hours. I do not care if you are 2 or 99. You are NOT allowed to bored aircraft in pajamas unless you own the airplane. If your clothing is THAT uncomfortable, let me be the first to tell you that you have put on some weight and need to buy new clothes. Have you no self respect? I would not go to the corner store in pajamas let alone be seen in a hub of international travel.

I also can not stand people that wear shorts of an inappropriate length. The seats are close. No one wants the bare leg of a stranger touching them. Ick. However - that is not the real problem with me. It is the simple fact that it is typically cold on an airplane. Dress for your situation, my friends. In the fabulous ORD, I saw a young girl in shorts that could have easily been her underwear carrying around an enormous wool blanket. I have a crazy idea you little trollop: PUT ON SOME GOD DAMN PANTS. Who on earth would rather lug around blanket than wear some pants? Hey man - I don't like being hot either but unless the plane is going to Mercury (which it is not), class it up and put on some pants.

The Lingerer:
Ah yes. You see the gate agent rummaging around so that is your invitation to stand and linger by the entry even though you are boarding group 4. What are you doing? What? Tell me. You have a seat assigned to you. What is the deal? Is it your precious bag? You worried there will be no room for the bag? Check it. Check it. Check it. I am sorry to say that you are not THAT important that you can not check it and wait for it. And hey - I know it costs dollars to do it but they will allow you to check it for no cost if there is no room and you have an appropriately sized bag. So settle it down and approach the boarding area only when your group has been called. It is very elementary.

The Self Important DickSlap:
This goes out to the man on the SLC - ORD trip.

Dear Sir:
You actually have not one...but two violations. First you lingered. Oh, and linger you did. THANK THE LORD, United Airlines has that absurd double row for boarding. One for First Class, Preimier Execs, etc and one for the commoners. Without that treat your preformance would have been so passe.

So when we were a good 15 minutes out from even boarding you place your sorry self in the important First Class area, so we could all see you. But you did not stop there. No no. You proceeded to stand there with your hands free devise plugged into your phone (your obnoxious flashing bluetooth must have broken) and your lap top open and balancing in one hand.

OH MY GOD. THE MOST IMPORTANT MAN ON EARTH IS ON THIS FLIGHT. I sure hope this one doesn't go down because if it does the world will surely end.

This is the thing: Regardless of the show you insisted on putting on, we all know you are not important. We know you are a self righteous prick. No one was fooled. Now from above we can see that the airport is indeed filled with simpletons. However - it would take a special idiot to assume you were, in fact, important. We the people, are not duped by your act.

These are the facts: Important people DO NOT travel via commercial airliner, you freak! Important people have their own planes. Important people are given planes with decoy planes and there are missiles involved. You must be out of your skull if you think flashing various forms of technology and sitting in First makes you important. And if you are as important and irreplaceable for 3 hours like you believe you are...perhaps you should not be leaving the earth.

And hey - if you are of such importance, you also should not be unprotected, as you were, in a mass of people. Hey - I've gotten through security with a bottle of perfume NOT in a quart sized bag. Who is to say I don't have a pistol?

I'm going to go ahead and complain:

2009-06-18T22:46:00.006-05:00

Chicago -

You have 2 days.

Two days before I freak the fuck out on you.

Actually - what the hell am I talking about? Summer arrived today. I am becoming one of 'them'. The 'them' I swore I would not become.

It was shitastic out today. Pleasant through the afternoon and then it turned into a humid hell. All beginning of summer crappiness.

I was sweating as I walked about Ravenswood Manor...admiring houses I'd like to live in with my imaginary children and well paid imaginary husband.

Whatever - this is what I have to say to everyone is Chicago:

#1: Please make reference to my previous blog about spring

#2: It is a no win situation with you spoiled freaks. Yes - I am here to offend. And I was acting like one of 'you' two seconds ago. I admit it.

This is the thing: All any Chicagoan does is bitch bitch bitch bitch about the weather going from cold to directly to hot.

Congratulations - we ACTUALLY had a good two months of tolerable temperatures. Spring like...wouldn't you say?

Lots of rain? Yes.

April showers bring May flowers and what do May flowers bring? PILGRIMS!!!

I love that.

BUT - still it has been pretty easy on the temperature.

And what is everyone doing? RUSHING the SEASONS. Bitch bitch bitch - everyone wants summer.

You people can not be satisfied.

Had we jumped to 83 degrees on May 15th - bitching.

We stay in the 60s - 70s in May - bitching.

So here we are on June 18 doing the spring-summer transition. That humid horsecrap thing. It is coming a bit later than normal. Is it that big of a deal?

As my friend Megan said:

Talk to me in October...when it is 85 degrees.

Does anyone recall Halloween last year?

Let summer start in late June as it is supposed to. Because if that season lasts through October 31 - like it did last year: That is FOUR months of summer and that is plenty.

You will be so sick of summer and you are going to want a nice stew and a pumpkin spice latte. And and it will be too hot for it and what will you do? BITCH about it.

PLEASE - for the love - STOP COMPLAINING. and I will too!

So....turns out: I found my dream man:

2009-05-13T19:59:00.013-05:00

Too bad he would have celebrated his 151st birthday this year.

Obviously he is dead.

He is Theodore Roosevelt.

The reason I may be single FOREVER? They don't make Theodore Roosevelts anymore.

Extinct this breed is.

I mean sure...there may be one or two in about a million running around, so hunting this down is a job and a half.

Let's go through some traits that T.R. has:

Educated, Harvard style: check
Intelligent: check
Wealthy Family: check
Clever: check
Fearless and Brave: check
Man's Man: check
Everyone that personally knows him, loves him: check
Beefy: check

I just described my perfect man. I can let up on the Harvard and wealthy family - obviously. When one dreams - dream big. But still. Are you going to find all these qualities today?

Hell no.

Do you think someone that went to Harvard would actually be brave enough to fight in war on horseback or lead an expedition down an unknown river in the Amazon?

HELL NO. Mommy and Daddy would not have it.

What happened to this era?

I'll tell ya: It went the way of the dodo bird along with fancy hats and appropriate dress.

What happened to men NOT only being brilliant but also being brave?

Today, you either get some smart dude that would hire someone to install a shelf or some tough guy that thinks higher education is a waste of time.

The species divided and I don't get why or how.

And hey - I will admit the ladies of the world aren't exactly pulling their weight on these renaissance ideas of mine. I just happen to NOT be that incompetent lady. So in my reality: The men have failed me.

I will need to look up some lineage. Meredyth Roosevelt sounds like a regal lady of good breeding. I shall settle for nothing less.

Unfortunately - in today's world I can only think of one family that breeds intelligence with the bravery of war and big game hunting: The Windsor Family.

Really...has the marriage of bravery and smarts become so nonexistent that it is only available in other lands when a crown is involved?

Those Windsor boys are not beefy enough for my taste. But surely they please others. Just the other day Wills called me and asked me for marriage and I said, and I quote "gain 50 lbs and we will talk. I don't know how many stones that is - but surely you can figure that"

For God's sake people!!! Save America! Save the world! Teach your girls to be intelligent and bake a cake. Teach your boys to hit the books and shoot a buck!

Let's get some balance...we can in fact, can be it all.

Stop fitting into a stereotype!!

Giant Baby

2009-04-26T18:25:00.005-05:00

So - I admit it. I am a baby. I am afraid of stupid things. Like bugs, and heights, and any creature that takes flight.

In particular anything that flies.

I do not like birds or any insect of any kind but add the option of flight and that insect or bird is my worst enemy.

I do not agree with a creature having three dimensions of free movement when I really only have two.

I am afraid of butterflies.

Yes. Butterflies.

I realize the rest of the world looks at butterflies as harmless creatures that flit and flutter about in their beauty. I do not see that. I see an erratic, dirty moth in a beautiful ball gown. Moths are dirty. I am NOT fooled by the beauty and pretty colors of a butterfly. You remove their colors and pretty dress and they are just common, toothless, trailer park trash like their moth cousins. Don't fool yourself, my friends. They just want to fly about to get caught in my hair, much like a rabid bat.

So this weekend, I took a big step. I confronted the fear. A little immersion therapy.

The thing is - like all my fears - I get comfortable, somewhat after a while.

I met my friend at the Nature Museum where I would actually enter the butterfly habitat.

This was me whenever a butterfly fluttered near:

And really...can you blame me? Look at all of them in this small region waiting to take flight and attack:

yeah yeah yeah...I get it. They are pretty:

But really who are we to judge a book by its cover? Sure they are pretty - but you don't know what is going on in their minds.

Next stop: I am going to enter the bird house at the zoo and not cower like a freak and run out like a maniac...perhaps next weekend.

**Special thanks to: Hope for taking that fantastic photo and Meaghan for once saying "Moths are dirty" and for some reason that stuck with me.

2009-03-06T18:23:00.005-06:00

It is time. It has been asked for. A new blog entry.

UGH! Would you believe, I can't come up with something to bitch about?

I'd like to blog about my crunchy knees...but who would that entertain?

I have decided I will speak of the weather because we are on the brink of Spring. February and March are the worst for us here in Chicago.

Spring in Chicago is your drug addicted mother on welfare that ditched out on the family years ago and comes for a visit every once in a while.

This year she stopped by on December 26th and dropped off some Christmas presents and then high tailed it out of there in 36 hours. I think she came by again once. She came back again for a day or two in January or February - I can't remember...but it was a weekend and a nice visit. She is here again for a day - maybe through the weekend - but she is unpredictable - it is her nature.

Then she makes an alleged commitment to you on March 20th, some say March 21st - but since my birthday is March 20 - I claim the rights to spring. She is bad at commitments so she pretty much comes and goes until May or June - depending on her mood and then your step-mom, Summer, kicks her ass out...till she randomly shows up again in winter, unannounced.

Changing Seasons:
I am not sure how I lived without this for 9 years. There is something about the promise of change that really makes one hopeful and giddy. The entire city morphs into a different place at each season. I dig it. It works for me because I think I have some form of ADD and I can't handle too much of one thing.

However - I will say Chicagoans are the biggest pussies sometimes. City of Big Shoulders, my ass.

I can often be found screaming at the evening news when the weather hits a brutal and unlivable temperature on the third day. Yes. I said THIRD day. I can predict it. It is day number 3 when the news stations hit the streets to get the public's opinion. As though it is something one can rally against. As, though we can organize a coup against the weather. Give it up and deal. You live in Chicago. Chicago. Chicago!

It is the midwest, my friends, and the we have that huge mass of water known as Lake Michigan that can make it or break it.

You can't leave the door without checking the weather. You never know what may happen. Spring is notorious for this crap...but still...it can happen at any time. When I first moved back here I did not have this in my routine. I went to work one day: It was 60 degrees outside. It was 30 degrees by 3 PM. I had my spring coat and that was all. My teeth chattered all the way home and I looked like an idiot.

"Didn't you listen to the weather" the co-workers said.
"I'm not use to that yet....I am from Arizona" I said sheepishly.

Another time it was clear skies. I was living in the suburbs at the time. When I took the train home....as we got deeper into the burbs I noted there ... was ... snow. No snow in the city....yet snow...in the burbs...just 5 miles out it started. At every stop there was another inch on the parked cars. Then...I got to my stop and 8 inches were on my car! WTF? Oh...this is that 'lake effect snow' / no snow thingee. I had no snow removing devise at the time so I had to risk frost bite with my hand wrapped in a T-Shirt that was in my trunk to get it off. Stupid unprepared Arizonian!

I become enraged when we do experience the bad times. The 3 days of negative 17. The three days of 103 degrees. That is when the news stations step in.

Take it to the streets! Something must be done!

Who are these weaklings that can't take three days of intolerable weather? Who? I want their phone numbers.

This is what happens on the third day of intolerable weather:
"How do you feel about this weather" asks the newsperson

and the responses:

"well it is terrible. It is just unlivable. We are living in unlivable conditions"
"the real question is, how much longer will we put up with this?"
"I know I can't go on like this any longer. I am sick of it. Just sick of it"
"Something needs to be done. This is no way for people to live"
"This is just not how you want in your life right now. You want to be outside. You can't be outside when this is going on"

Excuse me...are we talking about the extreme weather that has lasted 3 days or has a foreign military taken control of the city? What is going on? THREE DAYS. THREE FUCKING DAYS and you are acting like there is a deadly epidemic of some sort. Has there been an outbreak? Am I that last to know?

Now - of course my opinions are different. I actually have lived somewhere called Arizona. A place where extreme weather rules the better half of the year with no breaks. A place where your car melts. A place where I spent the entire good part of the year dreading what was coming.

Hence, I moved. You know what...if you don't like the weather, move. It is pretty simple. People have been doing it for hundreds of years.

In fact, I demand these sallies live in a place like Arizona. Where one actually experiences extreme weather for more than 1 week.

I admit it. I am Goldilocks. I left Chicago because it was too cold. I left Arizona because it was too hot. I woke up stung by a scorpion, did the math, and got the F out of there. Actually I knew I was leaving before the scorpion got me - but NOTHING sealed the deal like that. Take me to a place without the devil's army (scorpions) and where it is NOT NORMAL for a cockroach to wonder across your path.

Being away and coming back has left me with an appreciation for the seasons. It is nice to never dread a season. It goes like this:

Winter: Hooray Christmas! Santa, shiny things, and lights! Snow! Hooray for the first snow.
Then...enough. I am sick of this winter coat and I have lost half my winter gear on a night of drinking to ease the pain of this weather.

Spring: Finally we thaw. This is the worst season. Spring is lying whore as explained above. You go to sleep with 60 degrees and wake up to a fresh blanket of snow. F spring. But it is a relief from winter and you take what you can get.
Then...enough. I need stability, I can't take the unpredictability.

Summer: Hooray! Bikes (not Rollerblades) and the beach. Laying in parks! Dining al fresco. Coats be gone! The Cubs! A busy city full of excitement!
Then...enough. I want to eat stew and sip hot drinks with delightful flavors.

Fall. Hooray! The BEST season ever. There is nothing bad to say about this. There are way too many to mention. The crisp cool air. The colors. The lack of sweat.
Then....hmmmm...that awesome first snow would be great.

In closing...February sucks for the weather...but it sucks even more for how it is spelled. I HATE IT.

I'm just sayin'

2009-01-26T21:18:00.002-06:00

When I was watching 30 Rock this week...

Jenna - said something to the effect of taking a "silkwood" shower.

ummmm...I made that joke months ago in my RPDSS post.

That is RIGHT...I am funnier than an Emmy winning sitcom. I called that Silkwood shit before they did.

I rule.

WT Food...

2009-01-14T18:42:00.020-06:00

White Trash Food...what is it?

We shall explore this topic today.

It is food of poor taste - yet with a price that far exceeds the value.

You see there is a difference between being poor and being white trash.

Poor people are just poor. Where white trash is poor and, most importantly: stupid.

Say there was a big Monster Truck Rally coming up. A poor person that does not have the money will simply not go. Whereas white trash will forgo paying the mortgage to buy 7 prime seats to the event - even though it is the 9th Monster Truck Rally they have been to that year.

White Trash Food and Drink:

Pop Tarts:
Where do I begin? If White Trash had a mascot it would be the Pop Tart. If White Trash had a flag, there would be a picture of a Pop Tart on it. They cost far too much money. I suppose you could purchase an off brand - but nonetheless. The disgustingness of this delight never ends. Some kind of icing, a gooey manufactured center, and bleached white flour paste has been baked together into the land's most offensive breakfast treat. Stop eating them if you have any respect for yourself and the human race.

Grape Jelly:
Not to be confused with a jam or preserves. In reality you can insert any jelly in here but grape is the most popular and is particularly gross. I believe I had an early post on my blog about how I was served dry toast at a well known and respected breakfast establishment and all I got was grape jelly. As though that would be good enough for me. At least give me some margarine for cryin' out loud. I know I am a freak - I like pulp in my OJ. But the thing is - I like to know that actual fruit was present in the making of my fruit food. This is why JELLY is gross. What is it? Plus - UNSPREADABLE. IT just chucks out and moistens the bread. YUCK.

White Zinfandel:
This is a starter wine. It is what you drink in college, out of jug. Lord knows I have been stinkin' drunk on White Zin in my life. All those time: before my 21st year of life. It is for underage drinkers that don't know better. Once you graduate from college it MUST end. You ever wonder why a restaurant will have a list of 10 reds, 10 whites, and there is ONE white zin? Because - no one drinks it. No one drinks it because it is an embarrassment. It is not classy. Graduate to a finer wine, like Charles Shaw's Merlot...it is $3.

Velveeta Cheese:
It is not even cheese. It is solidified oil. It is cheese that sits on a shelf. Plus I believe it costs more money than gold per pound. Now - I am not sayin' it ain't DELICIOUS in a hot chili cheese dip. Lord knows that is one of the finest culinary treats known to man. But it is...white trash. The price to quality ratio makes it WT. Plus no one in their right mind eats Velveeta with out an accompaniment like a can of chili. The flavor is nasty. You need to hide that with some nice canned chili. (also not a nice flavor without the Velveeta - two wrongs do make a right in this case)

There are foods that are commonly miscatorgorized as White Trash Foods. Again - cheapness does not signify WT. If you do not understand that - you do not understand the golden rule of White Trash

Kraft Mac-n-Cheese:
This is one of the greatest treasures of America. You having a bad day? Feeling low? You make yourself a box of MnC and you are on top of the world. I like to heavily sprinkle mine with pepper. Preferably pepper out of a grinder so I get that course pepper that adds just the right amount of class. Now - I remind you I am talking the powder mix.

Now - this is not to be confused with Velveeta's Shells N Cheese with that Velveeta goo in a pouch. That stuff tastes like...well...Velveeta which is gross. Velveeta Shells and Cheese is the White Zinfandel of MnCs. People that prefer it to the powder mix are confused. They think it makes them classy. It costs a premium and they think they are getting value. No no....if you think that...then you are white trash. I don't care how much money you make.

Kool-Aid:
It is childhood favorite of the 80's. Maybe it still is. I can't see myself letting my kids drink sugar water - but hey - everyone needs a quick sugar boost. I won't say I won't. However - it is age appropriate. I am not sure an adult really needs to be drinking Kool-Aid. But maybe this is some people of lower income's only access to a fruit flavored beverage. For them - I say - drink you Kool-Aid if you need. The last time I had Kool-Aid - or the generic brand was when I had dysentery in middle school. My doctor made me drink a anti-dehydration formula and to flavor it: Kool-Aid packets. This formula was obviously make at home, poor man Gatorade. But this formula suited my mother's tight purse strings. Lord knows if she was told to buy Gatorade I would have died - far too pricey. BUT...to this day - I regard lemon lime flavored Gatorade as "dysentery flavor" as that was the only flavor that tasted decent with the mix. And it tasted EXACTLY like the make-at-home Gatorade formula. You take some salt, some water, some baking soda, and a package of lemon-lime Kool-Aid mix --- you got yourself the yellow Gatorade. Yuck.

Ramen Noodles:

Cheap. For poor people. For people on a strict budget to live another day...not white trash. Don't judge. However - if you are eating this and not getting an Earned Income Credit on your taxes...please rethink your choice. It is 15 cents a package for a reason: it is crap.

Chicken Drumsticks:
What is wrong with chicken drumsticks? They are very economical and provide protein for your body. Sure it might be considered the greasiest part of the chicken - but it provides something, unlike a pop tart or grape jelly. We have become a society that shuns the drumstick. We are entitled mother-f-ers that want out boneless skinless chicken breast. Sure - it is healthier. But - The drumstick should never be overlooked for an occasional dinner. It is inexpensive, has nutritional value and is moist and tasty.

Now - I know this will enrage and offend people across this great earth. But remember - this is only my opinion. I certainly don't think you are WT if you enjoy these treats from time to time. But if all my WT foods are on you daily food intake...I might suggest there are actually far tastier and more nutritional food out there for your dollar.

2009-01-09T19:04:00.002-06:00

So when I wheeled my 2 wheel drive 2000 Jetta out of the snow a couple weeks ago, I was reminded of one thing: Drivers Education.

Or is it Driver's Education. Is the driver owning the education? It could. Or is the Education being described as that for Drivers. It could.

I have no idea and I care not for grammar. It is a silly practice.

The important thing is that I know the difference between its and it's and their, they're, there... that is all I care about.

Anyway - I would like to send a shout out to all that had the pleasant experience of Drivers Ed with Mr. Arnold. I only had the pleasure of 'Behind The Wheel' with Mr. Arnold once. Once - for parallel parking.

I am very good at parallel parking. I can get my car into the most absurd places...then when the car leaves behind me...the color of said car is all over my bumper and sometimes on the side of my car. Whatever. They ain't good, like I good. I RULE at The P-Park. I am not too proud to brag. Perhaps I have MR. Arnold to thank. I doubt it. I just remember him flipping out and then drawing a diagram of what the tires were doing while I struggled to park in downtown Wheaton.

The reason I was reminded of DE (that is Drivers Ed, not Delaware) is because I was doing this forward - reverse - forward - reverse - forward - reverse action to get over the wall of snow.

I learned this action in simulator. Simulator. Did anyone have simulator besides those that attended G-Dub? UGH! It was by far the stupidest things know to man.

I sat in the seat in the back corner next to Mr. Arnold as he manned the projection of video circa 1967. I believe it was car 20. Let's just say it was for the sake of this story.

He would always yell at me because I was the closest target and he could see everything I did wrong. In the snow film we needed to get out of the snow. So I was forwarding and reversing my 'car' to get out. Yet...not in time with what the film was doing hence I got a 2 out of 100 score. The entire time he was screaming "Car 20 you are NEVER getting out of there. NEVER. What is going through your mind? What are you doing car 20??"

I am humored that he thought the damn simulator was an accurate evaluation of your driving skill. For those that don't know...the simulator was a room of at least 20 god damn fake drivers seat and controls and you had to drive according to whatever was going on in the outdated and retard film had going on...like 1932 to the closest current year of 1970.

I swear to God there was either a simulator film or classroom film in black and white of a man in a f-ing Model T driving down the road giving out "friendly honks" to possible collisions. So that man was driving and sending out a friendly honk every 2 seconds. "there is a car" HONK. "There is a person getting in a car" HONK. "I see someone in that car, they may open their door" HONK. "we are approaching an uncontrolled intersection" HONK. "there is a child looking out the window of his home and he might escape his home and run like lightening into the street" HONK. "I haven't honked in over 4 seconds, something must be going on" HONK

It was beyond absurd.

I also recall the most current Drivers Ed film in Glenbard West's collection of archives. It was made at whatever time Laugh In was the hit TV show. It was a bunch of drunk people go-go dancing and drinking. The message was that you can't eat or drink coffee to sober up before driving.

Anyway- my point is. I was reminded of Mr. Arnold. Screaming at me about getting out of the snow in a simulator when I was practicing the method.

You are a lucky person if you had drivers ed anywhere but GW. All films predated the Korean War, sunglasses, personal computers, dishwashers and perhaps the bayonet.

Year in Review 2008:

2008-12-31T16:44:00.001-06:00

Nothing changed.

I have the same life as I did 365 days ago.

Happy New Year.

Are you Worthless or are you Decent?

2008-12-22T17:37:00.009-06:00

I have decided that men come in two flavors. Don't take this as some kind of bitter old spinster rant. I am just sayin'...two flavors.

It is rough times when people show their true colors. Are you a helpful and decent? Or are you just a worthless bag-a-dicks?

Incident #1:

I went to venture out in my car on Saturday. It was chilly. My car door was frozen shut. So I do what you do when that happens: Throw myself against the car door, yank it open, throw myself against the car door, yank.

As this scene is going down the man getting into his car behind me said "you need help?" I replied with a thanks, but I think I almost got it and I gave it a yank and it opened. I smiled and thanked him again and he said "well I guess you can only get one person on that job". True. And clearly I am the size of an ox so no need for you.

I then had to do some fancy maneuvering to get my car over the 18 inches of snow. I technique I shall discuss in a later post. Then when I was out on the town, I purchased a car shovel as to avoid the ridiculousness of getting over the snow. Much easier to just shovel out of there.

Incident #2:

The next day I needed to go out and replace my spare tire which has been flat since my friend's baby shower. That baby turned 3 this year. I need this tire as I will be traveling to MN via my trusty Jetta and it is good to have a spare.

It is bitter cold. Negative 35 wind chill. Yikes. Shoot me. So I get in my car. Let it warm up a bit and go. NOPE. Not going. Just sitting her spinning my wheels, as they say.

Hmmm. Well. I need that darn tire. I need to pick up my laundry. I got to get out of here. There is no choice.

So I try to go again. Spinning.

I get out of my car and try to clear any snow. Well the snow has frozen into a mass. It is not soft. It is like ice. White ice. A jagged glacier of sorts. Send the polar bears here for temporary housing. My plastic shovel is worthless. I should have bought some kind of welder's torch that plugs into the cigarette lighter. I am inventing that....no one take my idea. I sue you.

I go around and crack what ice I can with my crappy $10 shovel.

Get back in the car. Still spinning. So I sit there. I start to theorize that heat from the engine will eventually start melting the ice. This is an absurd notion but I must have hope. So I sit there for 10 minutes and then try to go I actually do move about 4 inches. It is a start but again I am stuck. I can't go forward or back. I am just lodged and spinning. Forward, reverse, forward, reverse...nothing. I remain calm and just sit there. Looking cool and pretty.

It is then that a kind man comes to my aid. He is pushing my car back while I am in reverse. He is pushing from behind when I'm in first. He is chipping away ice with me. Finally I am set free. It was on the reverse. I think the man actually picked my car up to get it over the glacier that my car was on. I am not sure how you repay someone that was kind enough to dick around with you and your car for 20 minutes in negative 35 degree weather. All I could do was thank him and wish him merry Christmas. I hope karma treats him well and he wins the lottery or a loved one is cured of a disease. This is all I can do.

That man was clearly a saint.

Incident #3:

I take my car to Just Tires. The name of this institution should be "Just Worthless Bastards". So I am sitting there waiting for it to be finished and this dude comes in and says "I can't get your trunk open". I go with him and take the key and say "It is probably frozen shut"....you f-ing moron. It is NEGATIVE 35...CLEARLY this car has been sitting outside for hours if not the last 4 years.

UGH! Let me get that for you, sir!

So I go to my car, press unlock and pull the frozen trunk open with my brute strength.

Just took a little bit of this yankee doin' some yankin'.

I look at him and smile.

He says "uhhhhh...I didn't want to break anything"

I call your bullshit, sir. You are a weakling. A weakling that must get a GIRL to help you. Are fucking kidding me? Is this what the world has come to? Let me handle this. Let me open the frozen trunk since you clearly do not have the strength to do so, you having a cock and balls and all. You having more testosterone than I running through your body. You having a natural muscle mass that far exceeds my own. Please...put your feet up somewhere while this GIRL opens the fucking frozen trunk. And anyone - with any sense would know - it was NOT a mechanical issue. It was simply frozen shut. You could hear it unlock, dickslap. Are you deaf? You are not the dude with one ear from yesterday that told me it would take 4 hours to replace the spare. So I am going to go ahead and assume you can in fact HEAR. You have muscles. I assume you have a brain. Figure it the fuck out. Figure it out and put some power in it before you run to a GIRL for help, you F-ing SALLY.

I swear to god, if I was a man - I would get a hair dryer, an ice pick and a god damn crowbar, before I would ask a GIRL to help me open a fucking frozen trunk. I would pull the car into the warm garage and let it thaw. I would have the fucking ingenuity and respect for myself and the rest of the male species to NEVER seek the GOD DAMN help from a FUCKING GIRL!!!!

Well - here it is. This is what the world has come to. Why stop at frozen trunks? I may as well assist men with heavy parcels. I may as well open doors for them and insist they enter an elevator before me. When I see a man struggling to get his heavy piece of luggage from the overhead bin in an airplane, I will step in and say "no no...let me get that for you". Perhaps I should start walking grown men across streets.

However - I will let it go.

After all, the score from the weekend was:

Worthlessness: 1
Decency: 2

Question on Social Acceptability...

2008-12-19T19:20:00.005-06:00

Is it acceptable for an adult to eat a piece of chocolate shaped like an animal in public?

Sometimes...I am not sure.

On my flight from Phoenix to Chicago I decided to have my way with a chocolate shaped reindeer my mother gave me. Granted...a small reindeer. It wasn't like it was a 9 inch tall reindeer that I pulled out of my carry-on. He was about 4 inches tall.

I felt foolish in the close quarters an airplane is. But I did not let my modesty get the best of my need to eat chocolate. I took a bite out of his rear end so I could then break off pieces and eat him like a civilized adult. But I still felt silly fumbling around with this reindeer chocolate at age 31.

I realize I should be eating something more adult like a chocolate bar or truffle...but that was not available and desperate times call for desperate measures and if that plane went down in a freak accident my soul would be angry that I did not eat that darn reindeer.

This was a hollow reindeer.

I have an issue with hollow chocolate figures and always have my entire life. I feel ripped off. "ummm...I thought this ENTIRE thing was chocolate...not just the outer shell...WTF?"

Growing up I had these German neighbors. One year their grandmother, from Germany, sent over the mother load of Easter candy delights. I was insanely jealous. As you may know, candy is gold to a child. Watching your neighbors gather gold around their yard is painful when their Easter gold-load is 95 times the size of yours. Plus they had fantastic European delightful chocolate not found in the US. GIVE IT TO ME NOW.

It is especially painful when you are me and your favorite chocolate holiday is Easter. Cadbury Eggs. I know - some don't fancy them. I am a lover. The happiest day of the year for me is the day after Easter when I buy them at a heavy discount. I travel feverishly from store to store to buy them and store them in my freezer like a crazed fall time squirrel and his nuts. It is not normal...this behavior. I admit it.

This German Easter brought one item that made me go green more than anything. An enormous three foot foil wrapped chocolate bunny. Those bitches!

It was kept in the downstairs area that served as some type of play room. It was like a bunny shaped chocolate trough. It would watch me play. Beckoning me to take a bite. Sometimes mocking me with its shiny eyes. A bite never taken.

I wondered when these girls would ever open the darn bunny. It seemed to me the chocolate would be escpecially tasty because it came from a three foot bunny.

Then one day...the foil was folded back on his ears, bites taken to expose the truth.

That bunny was hollow. Hollow like their Grandmother's love.

I was no longer impressed.

The 'Ol Snow Day...

2008-12-17T18:06:00.008-06:00

I feel a need to comment on this ridiculous ritual.

The snow day.

I remember being a kid and praying for a snow day.

They were the greatest. However...very unlikely to happen in Chicago. We are tough as nails.

It is not as often as people think. I remember watching the news, praying my district is mentioned. Asking mom what district we were in. It wasn't a big deal in my home because my mother stayed at home until I was in about 3rd or 4th grade. But what about everyone else? It seems like a hardship to me.

Plus....back in the 80's....

I think you needed 12 feet of snow to get a snow day. I recall having a "it is negative 60 out, school is canceled day" in high school.

I remember being dressed for school. In turquoise stretch pants and an ugly long sweatshirt with geometric snowflake-like design on it in like 4th or 5th grade and peeking out the garage and my parents feverishly shoveling the drive way so they could get to work and yelling to me it was a snow day. Those poor people. Paying taxes and laboring on a driveway while the kids and the teachers of the world are sitting with their feet up. What is going on??? What is this???

Those are the only times I recall having a snow day. I also remember the heat being broken at 'ol GW High School and everyone going from class to class in winter coats and finally school was canceled at like 1:30PM. After of course....suffering all day in the cold...like pioneers.

I am sure today if the road is lightly dusted with snow somehow these ungrateful little bastards get the day off. Lord knows, these non-tax paying free-loading kids have more rights than minorities in rural Arkansas.

This is what I don't get: If you are a working family. What are you supposed to do with your kids? You already use up all your sick days to care for their snotting noses. A normal working adult has crap for vacation time. It is not like any working adult has such thing as a snow day. It could be negative 95 and 5 feet of snow - you get your dog sled together if the car doesn't start. Just get to work.

So....if an adult must go to work - WHY THE HELL aren't kids going to school? If you can get your ass to work, you can get your kids to school.

What is this ridiculous tradition all about?

Not everyone has the opportunity to be a stay at home mom. Why is this privileged situation catered to?....and certainly if you are a stay at home mom - you want those kids in school and out of your hair!!!

Are children writing the policies to make snowmen?

http://www.championnews.net/district.php?did=440&year=2007

This is my high school district pay. Pretty sweet for a job with 3 months off and the occasional 'snow day'. 88% of these people have a salary higher than mine. I'm not sayin'...I'm just sayin'.

Survival Guide, Part I

2008-12-14T16:59:00.010-06:00

How not to get raped, mugged or your car broken into...

1. Mugged:

It is easy. Look poor.

I was coming home from the airport and my cheap self did not feel the need to purchase a cab. So instead I took the L, got off at Montrose and waited for the bus. The Montrose/90/94 area does not appear to be the best location on earth in terms of safety. But I am willing to risk it to save a dime. This dime is only to be saved during hours of light. You will not find me standing there at dark time.

Nonetheless...I quickly spotted a thug. He wandered in and out of the L entrance. I kept an eye on him. On his 3rd trip out to the open air I noted he pulled out an IPhone.

To keep my self safe I immediately pulled out my crappy flip phone circa 2004.

What this says to a would-be-mugger is: "I have nothing to offer you. I am poor. There is nothing in this bag but debt, a five dollar bill, a bottle of water and a crappy library book." Now...if you are a high roller and have a fancy SmartPhone or IPhone or what have you...I suggest you keep your crappy old phone with you and pull that out when you feel threatened in any manner.

2. Raped and mugged for that matter.

A lit cigarette. This is as good as wielding a knife or having a gun strapped to your hip. Let's be honest, even if you had some pepper spray, you would have to dig it out of your pocket or bag. Plus the type of pepper spray legal in most states is no good. You need to get yourself some good stuff. The kind only legal in Arizona, Texas, Wyoming and Idaho. If it is legal in states that are still the wild west or hate gays and blacks...it is GOOD STUFF. Cause those people are nuts. However, a lit cigarette is a mini flaming torch. No one likes to be burned...in the eyeball. Even if you don't smoke always carry around a pack of cigarettes and a lighter if you expect to be traveling on foot during dark hours.

side story:

Once I was being verbally assaulted by a man in a giant truck (of course). I was in my tiny Mitsubishi Eclipse. I was simply informing him that he was traveling on the wrong side of the lane in a parking lot. When the argument reached its pinnacle I was luckily armed with a cigarette and proceeded to extinguish it on his forearm. I take satisfaction in knowing this man still has a scar from this incident. When people ask him "What is that?" he may claim he was burned by a crazy bitch. But in reality we all know he was burned by a clever, delightful and perhaps cunning woman of sound mind that was reacting to his unnecessary verbal abuse.

3.Car Broken into:

Make your car look like a piece of junk.

For me this is easy. I have my side view mirror taped on. Once I was going to get this fixed. However, due to the electronic nature of the car's appendage...it is $800 to get fixed. Ummm...no. Instead it is taped on and looks great. Great because no one thinks the car could possibly hold anything of interest or value. I could leave an open bag of high dollar street drugs on the back seat...no one is going to get in there.

An added layer of safety is the tape deck. Yes...my 2000 Jetta has a tape deck. People may laugh at this useless antiquated devise BUT...guess what. The 'ol CD player converter works with the IPod. YEAH! I saw that passing CD trend coming. That CD with no means of transferring to IPod convertibility. Not really. I was just to cheap to get the tape deck upgraded. Sometimes being a cheap bastard pays off. Plus - when you have two tapes still: Neil Diamond and Social Distortion....what more does one really need in times of trouble?

So...just throw some tape on your side view mirror and enlarge and print this photo of a tape deck and just tape it on over your fancy after factory sound devise and you are set.

I know best....follow my rules for survival.

A little something...

2008-12-08T19:34:00.003-06:00

...I can't get rid of....

The ORIGINAL SAFETY PURSE:

I can't do it. I can't get rid of this gem. I have it hanging on a door knob as though it is decoration. Fancy sparkling fringe filled decoration that is!

It just brings back memories of a former life. The good times. The carefree times. Waking up in a strange tent on a rugby field with no recollection of how I got there and wondering where my money, my ID, my credit card was. Then breathing a sign of relief when I noted The Original Safety Purse was strapped to me...safely.

...Hence the name...

Product Endorsements

2008-12-08T18:41:00.012-06:00

I endorse these products:

1. Nivea Creme

I forget about this crap all the time. Today I was at work and my chapped nose was begging for treatment. Ahhh...the Nivea in my desk drawer. This is a fabulous all propose product that was created by the Germans and now manufactured by the Mexicans. You can use it on your lips, your face, or where ever you see fit. I am not ashamed to say I am a sucker for packaging. It comes in a delightful tin. I love any product in a tin. Who wants something in a plastic tube if you can have it in a fine tin? Plus look at those cute kids. They laugh in the face of frostbite...they know Nivea is waiting at home. This good safe wintertime fun is brought to you by Nivea.

2. The Velcro Roller (hair not included)

Simple and easy. Dry your hair with some volumizing spray, pop a couple in while you do your make-up. You have smooth hair with some volume. Until you put a hat on. Whatever - you looked good for the 5 minutes before you left for work.

3. The Forearm Warmer

Don't get me started on the evil world of clothing manufacturing. I am not obscenely tall. Must I buy the long length for pants? But it doesn't stop at pants. Winter coats are never long enough in the arm unless you have a man's coat. Who are coats made for? Midgets? People with flipper arms? Who? Must there be a gap between my glove and the end of my sleeve? Am I an ape with my knuckles dragging on the ground? No. I do not have long arms to my knowledge. So I am forced to remedy this problem with my forearm warmer....which I refer to as my Avril Lavignes. I am punk, yo!

4. The 180. The ear cuff. Etc.

I don't have one to actually photograph as I have already lost mine this year. This is what I do. I loose about $100 worth of winter gear each winter. This is the greatest invention of the modern winterworld. It will not ruin your hair. It is a discreet earmuff of sorts. It can be used in conjunction with a fashionable winter hat that does not cover the ears. Personally I have no clue how people run around without warmth on their heads. I do not sacrifice my comfort of fashion. Call me lame. I'll call you an overgrown child. I am Goldilocks. I do not like to be too cold or too hot. I will not suffer. If I could have figured out how to remove the skin from my body I would still be living in Phoenix.

5. Tea Pots shaped like Elephants

Okay..so I didn't have a number five and he was just laying around. Whatever....he is adorable...don't fight it.

Odd...but true...

2008-11-21T22:47:00.005-06:00

So I have a new neighbor. The man has a beautiful singing voice and him and his lady friend have some fantastic passionate fights. I often linger outside my door to listen to both the singing and fighting.

The odd thing is what is posted on their front door. It is not like they are 60...they are late twenties, early 30's. So this simply makes no sense. My favorite thing is imagining someone uncovering this in the move and then mounting the beast to the door. Also I like to picture it's ownership coming to question when they break up: "That lute/scroll/grape hideous bronze door decoration is mine! Not yours"

Here it is:

The weirder part...in The Office this week I spotted it on the wall in Jim's house.

Not that you are going to do this unless you are bored out of your mind or think that I lie like a rug but you can see it via the link below. The version in The Office is a beautiful gleaming gold. Perhaps it is the original.

http://www.nbc.com/The_Office/video/categories/season-5/698505/

It is Episode 509. You don't need to watch the entire episode you can click to it. It is at 18:13, I suggest getting ready to pause at 18:13....it is viewable for 2 seconds, but my quick, observant, fancy eye picked it up. I am not sure you are that good.

I did...click back, pause it. Look at my computer...ran to my front door to confirm it was the same piece of art and ran back to my computer to resume watching the episode and was humored.

That is a bizarre coincidence, if I do say so...or maybe it is not.

Some things...

2008-11-18T20:15:00.012-06:00

I saw recently:

#1. The other night I was walking back from the grocer and saw a opossum. Opossums scare the crap out of me. I believe them to be aggressive, rabid and have teeth sharp as razors and as large as refrigerators. I saw it cross the road and stopped and waited for it to find itself into someone's front yard. Then I walked quicker, than my already Olympic pace walking, and I am pretty sure I heard it growl at me.

I know what outsiders may think...that we don't have wildlife in the city besides pesky squirrels and disgusting rats. We do. Coyote, bunnies galore and the occasional deer.

Besides...a opossum is just a giant rat. Or at least it looks like one.

#2 ?????

Someone/thing that could only be described as a lost Latino Elf. If only I carried my camera around for such events....I'd have a picture and you too would say: "that can only be described as a lost Latino Elf"

It was this small woman sitting atop a garbage can on Washington, dressed flamboyantly with large faux gems glued to either side of her eyes. She donned some fantastic gold winter boots. Not a fashion boot...but something one might hike through the North Pole in if they were Lead Elf. She yelled things in a jovial manner in a language I could not understand but I believed to be Spanish or a dialect of. Needless to say, it was odd. But one of the reasons I love the city.

#3 Macy's window

I planned on taking a picture of this and sending a letter to Macy's to get them to understand some things about Chicago and Chicagoans. But today I noted it was gone. Good. And let me tell you, this lady is no stranger to filing complaint letters about worthless crap that annoys her. War? Starvation? Guantanamo Bay? No no...that is not my concern. But retail outlets...don't get me started. I was publically mocked on a Phoenix radio station for my complaints. I still hate Subway because they won't take Jared off their commercials....even though I formally requested the act.

Back to heartless Macy's, it was a window display and in the background was a black and white picture of a city skyline featuring the Chrysler building.

OK....this is the issue, Macy's:

a. You fucking raped us of Marshall Field's. I understand...it is just a store. But it was an icon in Chicago. How mother-f-ing dare you, put a picture of a New York landmark in the god damn window of THE Marshall Field's Building. Let me tell you what this is like doing:

That is like your mom and dad getting divorced. Then your mom dies. Then you go to your dad's house and find he only has photos of his 'new' family and none of you and your brothers and/or sister. You are officially an a-hole. I'm not going to take some kind of stand against it. I am just saying, Macy's, you are an asshole if you think that is appropriate. Do it in Minnesota, do it California, do it anywhere else...just have the SENSE not to do that in Chicago.

b. A true Chicagoan...does not in any way, shape or form envy New York. That is the way it is. Chicago has played second fiddle to NY since it was birthed. We do not think it is better. We think we are better. So please...do not taunt the Chicagoan with images of your beloved city, we actually love our city. We don't need your city. Someone from Dover, DE might need your city. But we...we in Chicago do not NEED your city. We have our own buildings...this is where the skyscraper was born for Christ sake and we take that shit seriously. That and putting immigrants' fingers in sausage. We are proud people.

c. Why is Chicago better? Because, on average, we are fatter. Fat people are fun. If you had the last 12 hours of your life to spend with someone...would it be a bag of bones or someone on the chubby side? Don't fool yourself...it would be the chubby.

Kate Moss vs. Santa?

You want to hang out with Santa. Yes....stop thinking you don't.

When you sit down for a nice steak you don't want some skinny coked out bitch judging your every bite. NO NO NO NO NO. You want Santa. The fat bastard is going to encourage you to eat it up. Enjoy your steak and the man is going to throw back a few with you. He is unpretentious and has no where better to be. Meanwhile, Kate is checking her watch every second waiting to get the hell out of there and away from your miserable company. Don't flatter yourself. Santa is the way to go. He might be making list...but he is a fair and just man.

Santa is to Chicago as Kate Moss is to NYC.

A Message:

2008-11-14T13:11:00.004-06:00

This goes out to nearly everyone I know and is amused by me:

Correct me if I am wrong...

2008-11-13T19:07:00.002-06:00

She bugs
Her face is kind of annoying
She is doomed for a future of trash, smut and drugs...it shall be entertaining.

Bitch Cunt and back to the Bitch

2008-11-10T21:49:00.006-06:00

That is what I was called today as I crossed the street on a walk signal.

This is what a fella in what appeared to be a migrant worker truck or a truck used to collect alley treasures called me...

I got off the bus and was delighted to see I had a walk signal. Hooray. No waiting for me. As I crossed I noted the truck on the other side of the street was quickly attempting to make a left turn and kill me.

This prompted me to walk at a snail pace as to alert him that I, the pedestrian, had the right of way. Go ahead...hit me. All that crap in that back of your truck will be mine. The three rakes, the broken lamp, the like new navy blue sweatshirt, and the toilet.

This prompted him to call me a bitch and tell me that it was a red light.

"Nope...I have a walk signal" -me

"you are a cunt" - truck jerk

"you are unfamiliar with how the road signals work" -me

"bitch" - truck jerk

The whole time, an older gay man was yelling at him with various profanities. After we were safe on the sidewalk he said "Pardon my French back there but that guy was in the wrong"

Two things:

1. Love the term "Pardon my French", let's go ahead and bring that back.

2. I can't stand trucks.
They are a dumb automobile and I can only assume the soul reason for demise of the American car industry. If your job or hobby does not require you to haul around calves or futons, what the heck do you need one for? It is frowned upon to put humans back there. So what is the purpose of all that open air space?

Down with trucks.

No really.....

2008-11-05T21:50:00.003-06:00

..watch it again.

Unless you are ignorant, racist or blindly for one party and not the other...how can you watch this and not want to be a better American? Be the change, my friends.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/42672/msnbc-decision-08-obama-presidential-acceptance-speech

A leader inspires people to be the best the can. If you can, put your issues aside for 10 minutes and just listen to what he says. How can you not want to be a better citizen? If you can't....I can't understand you. But I'll probably like you anyway...

Update on RPDSS

2008-11-05T18:39:00.003-06:00

So.....my cheap bastard self purchased some new deodorant about 2 weeks ago.

I was under this impression that a miracle had occurred.

You can part as many seas as you want and cure as many cases of leprosy as you see fit - but let's talk REAL MIRACLES...that being getting this right pit to not smell like that of a squirrel carcass. Or for my regional friends...it smells like the alley just north of Madison between Wells and LaSalle - which has the distinct odor of rotting body of prostitute.

I am not kidding, please visit this alley if you ever have the need to rid yourself of the contents of your stomach and can't bring yourself to vomit. The odor of this alley induces gagging. I bury my nose in my right pit (OF ALL PLACES!) to avoid the stench. Then I want to cleanse myself 'Silkwood' style.

There hadn't been a sign of Right Pit Dead Squirrel Syndrome since the implement of the new product.

But today...it struck again.

What the mother loving heck is going on?

I think I have a plan to combat the RPDSS and keep up with my cheap bastard lifestyle....

I will buy 3 different deodorants and switch them each week.

I am not sure why I did not come up with this before...it seems so obvious.

Fool..I am one at times.

If this doesn't work I am totally going to blame this on Obama winning the election. I mean really...is it just coincidence that my pit acted up the first full day he is President Elect? I think not my friends....I think not.

I had The Hope for my pit...Hope don't cure RPDSS. Nope...it sure don't.

HOOOOOORAY!!!

2008-11-04T22:37:00.003-06:00

My guy won!!!!
I am so happy!!!!

Things don't really go my way. I had two nightmares last week where McCain won.
I would wake up confused and sad.

But this all seems real. Hooray!!!!!

I'd like to send a special thanks to McCain...for rolling over for the religious maniacs and changing your views to appease them and - more importantly for picking the shittiest running mate known to the earth. If it had not been for these retarded and erratic choices...I am not sure this would have happened!!!

Thanks! You are tops!!!!

How to sooth a fat girl in 48 hours...

2008-10-09T20:11:00.005-05:00

It is interesting to how people try to soothe the chubbies of the world...

I simply have not been terrifically happy in the past few months. My life is going no where fast. It is annoying. It is depressing. I spend time crying about it. Whatever. I'll get over it. I've gotten over it before.

It is fantastic when your life crisis coincides with high tax season. Oh yes friends...don't be fooled. Tax season ain't Christmas...it doesn't come but once per year. October 15 is the other big deadline. April 15 is volume. Oct 15 is complexity.

To make a long story short, I had worked the past week getting an absurd tax return in balance and then for reasons I can not explain, when I opened it up...not in balance. I flipped the fuck out.

Crying. Crying at work.

Awesome. The thing is, only part of the tears were for the tax return.

You see...like many from my generation - I never learned how to deal with my emotions. So instead of ever dealing or understanding my feelings, instead of ever trying to make sense of them or deeming them worthy, I just shove them into my bottle. Then...something...anything will set off that emotionally packed bottle and it will explode like a shaken 2 liter bottle of Coca-Cola Classic.

You may or may not be one of these people. You may have no understanding of why you can handle things sometimes and other times you flip out over nothing. Well...you, like me, get set off and then every god damn emotion is set free. You are no longer just mad that the dog shat on the rug. You are mad and hurt about everything you denied actually happened to your precious little ego in the past 3 months. Suddenly that bullshit your friend of 10 years said to you in passing and you thought was nothing is coming up. Suddenly you are pissed at your parents for failing you when you were a child. Suddenly you realize you hate every aspect of your life and no matter who you try to blame...it can't be changed so it doesn't really matter. Now...you are just hating life. And then you are crying not about the dog's crap...you are crying about everything you never dealt with.

Some like to assume you are 'PMSing". NO. My emotional breakdowns do not routinely run with 'that time of the month'. I prefer to refer to it as BLSS...Baby of the Late Seventies Syndrome. (I am talking time of birth)

*I have a lot of syndromes...you like that?

We, seventies babies grew up in an age where mental health was just coming to light.

Some how everything got fucked up with us. We got sandwiched between the keeping-your-bullshit-to-yourself-and-shut-up generation and the express-every-god-damn-feeling-you-have-and-mommy-will-take-care-of-it generation.

*personally...I feel the entitlement of the later will be the demise of the American society. You gotta have some self hate - let's hope the BLSS kids keep everyone in check. But both are fucked.

Most of my lady friends have done it. They flip out. They injured property, themselves or spouses as a result of a flip out. Or - like me, they make a fool of themselves.

So - I am working on that return and I loose my mind. I am crying. My office mate calls in another co-worker to help me find the difference. I get up from my desk, crying and close the door in the face of one of our partners.

Awesome.

I can't win no matter the situation. Either I am a maniac because I can't handle my job or I explain the situation and am psychotic 31 year old spinster that is so unhappy she is can no longer work and they commit me.

Everything eventually works out with the return but I am crying all god damn day. Not just about the return. Yes - part of the frustration, but the other part is just my life and how tired of it I am.

And ladies and gentleman - how do you soothe a chub?

Food.

The other partner comes in and gives me marble pound cake and some Vitamin Water.

At lunch my officemate gives me half of her pasta dish.

Today I was crying all day again. Cried on the L on the way to work like a maniac, cried in the elevator to work. Cried all day again. My officemate buys me a cheeseburger.

I really love and appreciate these people. They are so very kind.

But, it also humors me. It makes me wonder...if I were thin - would I receive diamonds and gems? Would I receive something pretty like flowers or a fancy paperweight? Perhaps something I could sell on E-Bay when my emotional storm has settled?

Well..I do have to admit...I think a cheeseburger is pretty.

Which might explain a thing or two...

It makes me laugh:

2008-10-04T21:58:00.002-05:00

I wish I knew someone I could send this greeting to. I think it is the use of the word "empire" that I find entertaining...

See poll

2008-10-01T21:41:00.004-05:00

Remember...

IF FOR NO OTHER REASON...

When you choose McCain...you choose my best friend, Sarah.

He could die.

Then we are left with this yahoo...to run the free world.

I love when then the response is "well the president really don't anything without advisement"

DUDE.....YOU want a moron representing the US? You want her seeking advisement and making a reasonable choice? Have you seen the interviews? The woman is rumored to not believe in dinosaurs. It ain't Santa Claus...it is BONES. IF NOT ACTUAL BONES THEN FOSSILIZED IMPRINTS OF LARGE BONES. She should consider flying to Chicago and taking a look at Sue.

*by the way - not sure that is true...

Let us remember: the only reason she is Governor is because she ran against the current unpopular Governor.

So let me break this down for you:

For those outside of IL: Our Gov is nuts. He lives within a mile from me. I try to find him on runs and I can't...if only I could.

For those in IL:
I COULD RUN AGAINST ROD TOMORROW...I guarantee you - I would win.

Then, when I am picked by the maverick for the next election, as VP...when you ask me what foreign countries I have visited - I am NOT going to include Japan and Korea where I simply made a stop over. Even though I was in Korea for near 24 hours. Nor will I say that I can see Canada from the Sears Tower on a clear day. I don't even know if that is possible - but that is how absurd it all is.

However....the US can take comfort in knowing...I am far more intelligent than this Palin character.

God Bless. Vote Obama.

3 faves. 3 don't care fors

2008-10-01T18:47:00.013-05:00

I have nothing funny to say. This happens. I should be working - but I prefer to procrastinate like only a winning procrastinator can.

These are currently 3 favorite things:

1. Adam Carolla
The man is the finest man in all the land. I started listening to his morning radio show under the direction of my good friend, Katie. Shout out to Katie. Everything he says, I completely agree with. In fact, I am not convinced that man has not stolen some of my material. Some intriguing topics include: Men are no longer real men, people that freak about germs are always sick, a woman must be tall to be sexy (and have boobs), shit happens and you can't stop it...I love him.

2. The Cubs
I'm on the bandwagon and I am not afraid to admit it. I also enjoy the Sox but I have a special place in my heart for the Cubs...those Lovable Losers...I too am a Lovable Loser. I feel connected to them. They give me hope. If the Cubs can take it to the World Series, then I too can accomplish things. I would be even more thrilled if the Sox could also go the World Series. A Red Line Series would be killer...literally...I will probably not leave my home if that happens.

3. MGMT
I dig the song 'Electric Feel"...it kinda makes me want to do this little shoulder and head dance while I prepare taxes at my desk....in fact, I do.

Hate is a strong word...these are three things I don't care for:

1. My right arm pit
It is possible Paris has my same issue and she is checking. For years I have been suffering from RPS. Right Pit Syndrome...this is a condition in which your right pit out sweats the left. Well...it has developed into RPDSS...Right Pit Dead Squirrel Syndrome. What is this? My right pit smells like what only can be described as a dead squirrel. Although it is true I have never smelled a dead squirrel, it is what I imagine one to smell like. The sweating has ceased and I have nothing but a unpleasant odor. This is the part where everyone suggests numerous deodorants. Well...I also have CBS. Cheap Bastard Syndrome. God forbid I buy new deodorant before I am out. Besides...this syndrome has lasted through 2 deodorants. Even my Lush powder is failing me....

2. Sarah Palin
Besides the fact that she a freak, she is a terrible mother. Women that have small children and choose a job that requires more than 40 hours per week when it is not needed should not have children. It is pretty simple. It is not sexist, it is nature. Ummm...it is also neglect. Women that think she is some kind of hero should seek help. Oh wait...no, no they don't need to. Their children will be seeking the help at age five and for the rest of their lives. Remember my friends...a cluster of cells in the womb is worth so very much that we need to make abortion illegal...BUT...once that baby is in the world and breathing...no need to nurture it. Send it off so mommy can seek a high ranking job and make lots of money!!!!!!!

3. My job
It is not that I hate my job. I like it. It is entertaining and I work with awesome people. But...at certain times of the year...I want to jump out the window to stop all the numbers from running through my head. I simply was not meant to work.

I love fall, part 1

2008-09-16T20:40:00.006-05:00

Fall is upon us!!!

I love it. I love fall. I will never ever live somewhere where fall does not come. The cool, crisp air, THE LEAVES. And....the food that is in season!

#1. Honeycrisp!

I LOVE HONEYCRISP APPLES. There is NO BETTER APPLE on this planet. They are amazing! They seem to only be available during a very short period of time and that time is ON!!!!

I would like to thank the good people at the University of Minnesota for crossbreeding and creating this tasty gem. This is the best invention ever. The wheel is nothing compared to the Honeycrisp. You can't eat a wheel.

#2. Squash!

Why is the squash so delicious? It is easy to make and you can make it savory or sweet. It is a versatile wonder!

#3. Soups and Stews!

It is time to tell salads to hit the road and roll out the soups, stews! Right now I have a Moroccan stew cooking!!! I suppose it is a little warm for that at the moment...

I love to eat. It is my favorite activity.

Big Bunny

2008-09-14T22:34:00.002-05:00

This big bunny amuses me! I couldn't be bothered to read the article...something about starving people in Korea and this German Rabbit being able to feed 8 people.

Caution: Things in the Blog are Larger Than They Appear...

2008-09-02T21:23:00.005-05:00

That thing being my arm. This is one of the most excellent photos ever taken of me. I am not sure if it is the angle, the lighting, the vibrations from passing trains...but I look good here, ladies and gentleman.

I will be utilizing this L platform for all my photo shoot needs from this point on.

This was me before running the Human Race 10K.

This is me after:

As you can see I have a way of maintaining my striking beauty even after running 6.2 miles. However...my arms mysteriously beefed up.

Yon know what Nike sucks at? Besides making a shoe that's toe box is too narrow for my feet? They suck at races...which I find ironic.

I don't know about you but after I run 6 miles I would like a spot of water. I nearly died. I nearly went into a claustrophobic attack. Apparently handing me some kind of baton with a stupid promotional bracelet in it and getting my damn chip is more important than giving me LIFE SAVING WATER.

It was just dreadful. I was so thirsty and tired and all I wanted was some water. I was stuck in this crowd of sweaty people...we were filtered down a 75 yard cattle shoot before water appeared. It was just awful. Who has ever heard of such a thing? To not offer water first?

At one point I thought I was going to go into an attack. For those that are life long friends of mine....you may recall an episode in Southern California in the back of a jeep where I went nuts and was pounding on the window to be let out of the automobile because I went all claustrophobic. That is what was about to happen.

Anyway...I survived, as I survived this. I am survivor.

Another thing that really chapped my hide in the past few days...

Listen to this:

This morning I am on the train there were no seats and I was fiddling around with some papers and crap. This fine gentleman saw me struggling, stood up and gestured for me to take his seat. I nearly died because rarely does one see such kindness these days. However - this kindness was quickly balanced out by the inconsiderate behavior of an opportunistic dickslap.

I took one half step toward the seat said "thanks!" and some pony tailed looser hustled around two people and a bike to take the seat intended for me!!!!!!!

I hope that loser never gets laid again. And shan't with that kind of behavior.

As of Late:

2008-08-29T00:36:00.002-05:00

Random things:

1. I am a lover of Obama. I had the chance to watch the DNC and was at times moved to tears. Hope brings tears. It does. I eat it up. I am jealous that Lindsey went to Denver.

2. I have decided that we all need to love our country before we can expect it to change. We are all lucky mother lovers for living here, accept it. Realize it. It is like that old thing where people say "you need to love yourself before someone can love you". Well...we need to love our country before it can love us back.

3. I was on the L this evening...there is this little nook in cars. It is closed off if it is the driver's car. There was a man in there. I am certain no one knew the craziest man on earth was seated in there. But then...randomly...this horrifying laugh came from that area of the car. It was a LOUD "I am about to take over the world and I am pure evil laugh". Everyone looked and looked around "what the heck" was written across everyone's face with a splash of fear.

I am a doomsday kind of lady. You should probably want me around when terror strikes because I always masterminding a plan and I am not afraid to be the one that takes action.

I imagine he might come out wielding a knife or a gun. We would all be held hostage by the madman. I looked around the train and saw .... mmmm....maybe one guy that had any balls.

Men just aren't tough these days. They are pussies. I blame diminishing gender roles and the growing popularity of wine and fine cheeses. Really ladies, if you refuse to learn how to cook and bake - a man is certainly not going to know how to change a tire or fight off an intruder. We've made the bed. We shall sleep, unprotected in it. However...I am NOT to blame for this decay. Please, stand up and raise your hand if you are and walk away from me in shame.

So, I figure I can always plan and attack at an unsuspected moment...like in movies. Yup...that is where I get all my plans.

I am unnaturally strong when I have been drinking so I figure the same is true in emergency situations. Only time will tell, only time will tell.

I figure it takes one person to start a revolution so once I have pinned the psycho down, others will assist.

I will be victorious and be interviewed by local TV stations and my undoubted 15 minutes of fame will begin.

These are the things I think...

Today....

2008-08-22T20:39:00.003-05:00

was one of these days:

and if you don't know what a billing code is...your job is luxurious.

The Dark Knight

2008-08-17T19:56:00.004-05:00

I went to see The Dark Knight...

I am not about to bore anyone with my opinion. That is not what you come to me for. You come to me for comments like this:

Maggie's tits were successfully contained in a film for the first time in movie making history.

I still think she was not wearing a bra at any time. However they had her in suit jackets and vests. There was an excess of jiggle at one point when she was walking. When she was not dressed in some type of stiff double layer there was not enough movement or the material was the kind to not allow for excess nipple and flop.

Congrats to her! I was not distracted by her flip flopping ta-tas!

I like that Maggie. I just wish she would exercise her freedom to wear a bra in her movies.

Near death? Not really...

2008-08-16T20:19:00.004-05:00

Often times I make fun of my friends that are afraid of being killed by a psycho killer. The people that are afraid of parking lots, elevators, and being alone in general watch too much Law and Order or CSI or Dateline. It is absurd. People need to stop watching that shit. It doesn't make you aware. It makes you a nutcase. AND....quite frankly - STOP flattering yourself. No one wants to murder you. However:

Well...I was a victim of the irrational thought twice on Friday when I was out on the streets. I believe the second psycho thought was just a psycho thought hang-over from the morning psycho thought.

#1:
On my way to work, I stop for a RedEye. I bent down to pick one up and a man said "here...take this one"

"thanks" I said and then I thought:
OH MY GOD, THIS NEWSPAPER HAS ANTHRAX ON IT AND I AM GOING TO DIE

This thought is insane. Then I looked up and noted it was a black man that gave me his newspaper.

OH...I thought....nevermind that silly thought. Black people do not participate in any kind of chemical warfare so I am totally in the clear. That kind of deranged behavior is exclusively reserved for my people, the white people. High Five!

This thought is funny to me on two levels: Number one: this clearly comes from all that hub-bub last week about that anthrax dude killing himself.

Second - I don't know anything about anthrax. Could some be sprinkled on my newspaper and I die? If so - wouldn't the man that handed it to me also die? Really - I don't even know what happens when you come in contact with it. I do know it is bad for the post office and Tom Brokaw. I never took the time to research the...whatever it is.

#2:
I was walking home and it was dark out. There was a man about a half block in front of me. He was shadow boxing with his shadow cast by the street light. Lunatic behavior...he is practicing killing me.

He was a tall white male with a buzzed hair cut he seemed very strong to me - in a clumsy way...I pictured him swatting my head like a silverback gorilla. I would fall into the street and my ear would bleed. Then I would die. Right there on Sunnyside. He would take my bag and be pissed that I have nothing to offer but access to an account with little money and some shoes I purchased at Target for $6.24.

Then...he stopped. He turned around started looking at me. He moved from one side of the sidewalk to the other - clearly trying to make me out in the shadows he was previously boxing in.

Fack.

I really am going to die.

I considered moving to the other side of the street. But I never know if this is a good idea. You don't want to set off the maniac. Any wrong move - it could be over. It is my theory you don't want offend white psychopaths or someone of any race you think may have a gun or a blade.

So...I stayed in my path.

When I was 2 feet from him he said:

"Oh hey! I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else"

Yeah right you insane killing madman! Clearly you were sizing me up. You could see I was above 5'6" and I could bust you up.

I said "oh yeah...that is ok...I considered moving to the other side of the street.........then...I didn't"

Great - why did I just say that. Now he will be pissed and kill me. I am not convinced he is a rational man.

"Ohhh - no...ugghh I'm sorry" he said.

"no no - it's okay" I said and hustled past him. When I looked back, I saw him duck into some kind of recovering addict center. Let's hope he doesn't relapse and find me.

I wonder if the FBI is going to read my blog since I used the word anthrax several times. If so - please leave a comment...and call me...and follow me in a white van for 2 days. Then I will have something to blog about.

I don't get this ad...

2008-08-12T23:29:00.006-05:00

This image has been annoying me for weeks....
....Believe in something better....
as in....What?

a. Believe that your family can live in something beyond a cardboard box regardless of this foreclosure market of crushing dreams?

b. Believe that, although you have been told you are infertile you may one day have your own baby...and not a small Asian child delivered via cardboard box.

I just don't get it.

The Diamond

2008-08-08T22:49:00.003-05:00

OK....so I was just going to put on Love on the Rocks as my music....due to my previous post...

Then I rekindled my love for Neil. I loose it every now and then, and for that I am foolish. FOOLISH...This man is a GENIUS!

I don't mean to get all Jack Black on you...but if you can not acknowledge that Neil Diamond is the finest American singer/songwriter of all time...you have some kind of issue.

You do. You are a fool.

I have been to...at least three Neil Diamond concerts. They ROCK! Neil has killer moves. He captivates an audience..I am not kidding. If you have been to see Neil - you KNOW what I am talking about.

Plus I have enjoyed Super Diamond...Twice.

And...who never in their life has screamed out "suck my cock" - even if you are girl during that certain part of Sweet Caroline while drunk at a bar? Who? YOU HAVEN'T LIVED, DAMN IT!

...or maybe you did not live at The Thirsty Beaver circa 1996 - 200?

Evacuation

2008-08-08T22:03:00.006-05:00

So....I have not blogged in a long time.

I will try to make up for it:

I went to a Cubs game with my friends, Alyssa and Liz. Liz is a smarty pants and is going away to get her MBA at Indiana. Good for her and back to me.

So the storms were brewing that afternoon and morning in sweet home Chicago. In fact, I believe that morning it was dark as night. Or maybe that was the morning before. I have no clue. All I know is that after living in the state (AZ) where the bright, sunny, unforgiving sky screams sunshine 363 days of the god damn year....I still love me some overcast. But, my memory is not as good as it used to be (clearly sun damage). Anyway- the skies cleared and the game was on.

It should be noted - I do not go to Cubs games to watch the game. One of the reasons I like Wrigley is because it is like watching a baseball game in some one's backyard. There is no annoying screens and music. Just ivy and an organ. That is all you need...in order to have conversation and not be distracted by some silly game.

All of a sudden the players were running off the field. For a second I thought there was a fight. I witnessed a bench clearing fight last summer and I loved it. I love violence. It is entertaining. Maybe I should start following hockey.

But alas, it was the rain.

Then the guys came out with to cover the diamond. I have never seen this done before and I enjoyed it. The organ played a special diamond covering song. Maybe he should play a Neil Diamond song? Like, Love on the Rocks? After all, Suddenly you're out there, walking in a storm!!!!! Sing it with me.

The whole covering the diamond thing is fantastic. It is well choreographed and quick. Kind of like an earthbound white man version of Cirque Du Soleil...only different.

Eventually we were told to 'seek shelter on the concourse level". Hmmmm...I am not a fan of the term "seek shelter". It sounds like death is coming.

I kind of liked this. I figured it could be a great tragedy, I would die and my name would be forever immortalized on a bronze plaque outside the new or reconstructed Wrigley Field.

This did not happen. We left the Wrigley and hop, skipped, and jumped out way to a bar. Where we sat in front of a window while a tornado brewed outside.

I voiced concern. I feared the window would break in and I would forever be disfigured. I am beautiful damn it. I am slightly ethnic looking and beautiful and this beauty can not be reconstructed via plastic surgery. (God - I hope people are reading this with my faux arrogance/self deprecating sense of humor).

Liz thought I was being ridiculous. Not really...she is a nice lady. She thought it was a little silly and said we would move if it got worse...even though the bartender thought it odd we chose to sit there. I was being a baby! This is what it comes down to and I am glad when people talk me off the psycho ledge and back to normalville. The window was not going to blow in and disfigure me. I was not going to end up looking like that guy from that Cher movie. Plus - if it did....and I was disfigured....I could totally join a Disfigured From a Storm Society and totally meet a great guy. It is like being a midget (see earlier post on midgets). Out of everything bad...comes something good.

So...that is the story. I lived. I liked it. I was kind of evacuated...

Ketchup in the Entry

2008-07-23T22:24:00.003-05:00

The neighbor across from me is an odd bird.

Incident #1: I could hear him yelling at his live-in girlfriend with whom he had a child. She would be crying, he would be - maybe not yelling - but using an overly stern voice. And he would be using annoying lawyer words when he spoke to her. I too would be in tears if someone I created life with used lawyer jargon in an attempt to argue me out of crying.

Incident #2: Girlfriend moves out and he calls the police to monitor the move out. Girl takes something he doesn't want her to have and he again is using his strange lawyer speak: something about having something on their 'fictional person'...what???

Incident #3: Ongoing: He uses the landing between our front doors to store an enormous Rubbermaid container...which means he must do a side step to open his door. Who lives like that? He also uses this as a dumping ground for various items: FedEx boxes, water bottles and the most annoying: his empty Muscle Milk container...it sat there for a month before he picked it up. Recently I found a CTA card - it had $4 on it. I am glad I took it...even though I don't really need it.

Incident #4: I come home tonight and there are 2 Costco sized containers of Heinz 57 in the entry way. With a note: "Free and Unopened - Dave 3M"

WHAT IS GOING ON? It is very odd to leave ketchup in the entry way. Very strange. It is strange. I live next door to a maniac. If I turn up dead - please have him questioned. Although he was avoiding the summons for weeks that was left in the entryway so he probably won't answer any questions without a fictional person present or some horsecrap.

yes...I read the summons. Just part of it. Sue me.

FLIES!

2008-07-19T02:43:00.021-05:00

I like the beach. I know...laugh it up ocean people. Laugh it up at my beach. Whatever - The Great Lakes are 20% of the world's fresh water supply so when you get thirsty and run your wells and canals dry...it is the Midwesterners that will be having the last laugh.

I don't care to prance around in a bathing suit in intimate situations. Intimate situations being overcrowded beaches. The North Ave and Oak St beaches of the world do nothing for me.

I like something more unappreciated.

I happened upon MY beach when I first moved back to Chicago. I lived in The LP at the time and took a long bike ride up the lake front path. I got tired and set up camp at what I believe is know as Hollywood Beach or Osterman Beach. It is at about 5800 North.

I was on the south end of the beach.

After setting myself up I took a look around and noted....I was surrounded by men in dainty Speedos. I was the only woman an this beach. Odd....there were two options: I either rode my bike to Europe or I was at the gay beach. Clearly it was the later. It was so hot that day and all I wanted to do was get in the water and cool off. But I knew I could not. These gay men would judge me worse than a 19 year old sorority girl at North Ave Beach. I was on the brink of heat exhaustion, I began to think I would die in my dramatic special overly dramatic way. After what felt like years, the beach cleared out and I made a break for the water. Sweet, sweet possibly hazardous Lake Michigan water.

I was informed later that the south end of the beach was indeed a well established gay playground, while the north half of the beach was the immigrant family beach. So I returned to the north side and this became MY beach.

Why? It is simple. I feel comfortable there. In my twisted mind: if English is your second language - you can't see cellulite or fat. This must be true. Europeans have no shame and I like it. The men: overweight and proudly walking around in what appears to be your standard Hanes cotton brief. But then you note an embroidered palm tree and an exotic words, like Del Mar - proof that it is in fact meant for swimming and beaching in a land not known as the United States. Then there is the women. The over 50 women, clad in bikinis. There have been three times where i have seen a 50 plus woman on this beach rip of her shirt to bear her breasts to Chicago and put on a bikini top. This is why I love it. These visions teamed with the a mixture of foreign tongues: For a moment...I am in fact on a European vacation.

So on this most recent rip to the beach I was having a hell of a time with the sand flies.

Lets get some things straight about me: I am not a big fan of insects. While I lay their annoyed with every fly that landed on my body, I pondered some big questions. My peasant skin: was it failing me? Or was this just more proof of my peasantry? Perhaps although my very white skin could deflect UV rays, it at the same time, was sensitive to insects landing on it. Was this just more proof? Perhaps my ancestors needed to be aware of tics and such. Those with nonsensitive skin died off to Lyme Disease, West Nile or whatever deadly disease you get from bugs that make them so highly dangerous and intolerable to the most courageous of man. This highly superior sensing technology skin is why I can't camp.
Now don't be that insane campers that mistakes the non-camper for someone that hates trees and landscape and has no respect for the outdoors. Nothing could be further from the truth. I just don't want to sleep with it. I do not want to make love to the sweet outdoors. I want to enjoy it and then go back to civilization: pronto. I want to know there is running water and a shower moments away not 7 hours away. I can not commit myself to endless days in nature. I don't hate nature. I just can't do it. I wasn't raised that way and I have never learned to like it. I tried. In a half assed way? Yes - but I tried. But it never worked. I hate myself for it. I feel like I would be a cooler person if I camped. But it is not me. I am miserable and uncomfortable the entire time.

Plus - let's look at the facts. I have a way of attracting unconventional illnesses and drama. I have had the shingles three times, I was stung by a scorpion in my own bed and I got amoebic dysentery from a bean burrito...do you really think I want to tempt the fate of the outdoors? Bears will find me and rip my head off given the opportunity. I will be involved in the first recorded case of a rabid deer heard attack. This is the kind of luck I have. I attract crazy people - I will attract crazy animals and insects. Believe me...I will. And really - I think this day at the beach proves that crazy insects love me...or maybe i am just a big 'ol baby.

So at the beach: I am flailing about at every fly. The odd part was these flies were mentally challenged. Or perhaps I was a magician. If one landed on my hand - I flung my hand and looked at my hand...fly still there. I flung again...two flies. Abra cadabra. I was like a magician doing the trick where one white dove is on his arm, he waves his arm and the one turns into two. What the heck? Am I magic? After this occurred several times I considered trying to walk across the lake. Maybe I am the offspring of God - what could explain this magic?

I looked around...no one else was flailing and fitting like me. I thought: well..they were all here longer than I. Maybe the flung enough earlier and the flies learned to stay away...........oh great - I am out of my mind. Now I am assuming that somehow the flues can be trained in a matter of minutes. I am ridiculous.

Mind over matter. I give it up. I will not let the flies ruin my time. I will ignore. I put my book away and just laid on my back. I could feel them one me. Nope...NO...I can't feel them...I am ignoring them. This did not last long. I knew what I looked like. I looked like a one of those Ethiopian children with flies running amok on their faces from a 1980's charity commercial featuring Sally Struthers. There was a fly playing in my eyelashes at that moment, another screwing around on my elbow, two on on my left hand and there were at least 12 on my legs.

That was it.

I sat up, armed with my book I went on a killing spree.

After the insurgents...I noted that the casualties were somewhere in the high teens. I was proud...a gentleman on a towel 15 feet from me said "Flies?"

"yes...no one seems bothered but me"

"oh you just have to shoo them away and it is fine"

"well...that wasn't really working...they still came - it is like they are glued to me - perhaps I smell of manure"

I became highly annoyed that he did not show any amusement in my joke...this lead me to believe that I do in fact smell of manure.

That fucking fly loving, hippy, tree-hugging bastard pissed me off. Did he not see me flailing around like I was having a epileptic seizure prior to this event?? He certainly did not care then. He only cared when he saw the god damn fly genocide going on. He should have been grabbing my tongue 20 minutes ago. Instead he insinuates that I smell of cow shit and makes me look a fool. A foolish baby that can't handle some flies.

Clearly the man has no sense of humor and I can not be in the company of him or his fly friends.

So...I left

Flight Attendant

2008-07-02T21:02:00.014-05:00

Sometimes...I dress like a flight attendant.

Not like a Southwest Airlines FA in khaki shorts and a polo. No no.

I am talking about a classy FA or one from yesteryear.

In the past I have sported a scarf either around my neck with a collared shirt or just tucked under my collar and hanging free. Either way - something about that scarf says: I can locate an emergency exit even if it is behind me and I will make sure your seat buckle is fastened low and tight across your lap even if you are asleep. I will wake you up and make a big deal about it. Safety, after all, is my number one priority.

However - today I had on a red dress with some white trim around the neck. I tried to describe this with words...but alas - I just could not. So I took a photo. I did not include my head because I look particularly wretched at the moment. I am not sure what about the dress says flight attendant. I think it is the combination of synthetic fibers and the solid color with white trim that really put me in the mood to hand out ginger ale and slip an extra pack of honey roasted peanuts to the passengers I deem worthy.

The fact is - I like dressing like a flight attendant. I think it is cheerful and zippy. Most of all - I think I like it because I secretly desire to be a flight attendant.

However I yearn to be a flight attendant pre-1975. When they did not let poor people on airplanes and there was a lounge for adult entertainment like cigar smoking and heavy drinking. When being a flight attendant was not a just a job - but a jet setting lifestyle and to keep that lifestyle you had to weigh under 120 lbs. The threat of loosing my job would really aid in my weight loss goals. Really - this could be the entire reason obesity is on the rise. Millions of little girls no longer need to live up to this completely legitimate employment practice and instead of eating a carrot to keep thin - they are shoving donuts and cheeseburgers in their mouths. A shame.

But that was the flight attendant of the past. It would never work out for me in today's world. I would be stuck in some shitty khakis running the coach cabin on the O'Hare - Newark trip for 12 years.

This is not what I am looking for. I am looking for something more romantic. In my fantasy first, I am thin. Second, I want solid synthetic fabric and maybe a pillbox hat. I want to sit on the lap of an international business man, throwing my head back and laughing at what a hoot that charter flight from London to Casablanca was.

It is completely normal...these desires of mine.

Another thing I don't get:

2008-07-01T21:59:00.003-05:00

Are these two for real?

Are they serious?

I don't watch this reality TV show they are featured in as I do not have cable. But I am forever fascinated by people that act like they are cool and the world is laughing at them. So then I assume it is all a big act/publicity stunt. Because - no one is that dumb. Right? No one that useless takes themselves that seriously right?

It entertains me.

What is more bizarre is this song. Yes...the only song currently on my blog. Listen to it. Just listen. Don't listen too long. You will shove something sharp in your ear if you do. Is this for real?

I mean really...it is a joke...right?

Douche Bags and Drool

2008-07-01T20:06:00.004-05:00

Today on the way home on the L, I was trying my hardest to stay awake. I have had two unproductive nights of sleep. Which is odd for me. Perhaps I should just ride the L all night. It seems to put me to sleep.

I had to stay awake. I was in a aisle seat so I knew if I fell asleep I would either find my head nuzzled in the crotch of the woman standing next to me or on the shoulder of the man seated next to me. I kept falling asleep and awaking two seconds later.

I gave up and just let it go. Then I woke up because I felt something wet between my boobs. My head was down, my chin to my chest, my mouth open with a hearty stream of drool flowing from my mouth into my shirt.

I am hot.

I went for a bike ride on the lake front path. I don't even know why I go to the path. It irritates me. There are the obvious annoyances - like people that INSIST on walking, biking, running side by side.

Today there was a man riding his bike in what would be my blind spot if we were driving. uuuuuuugggggghhhhh.....why would you do that. Either pass me or get behind me. I'd slow, he would slow. I would speed up, he would speed up. He was all up in my pocket, if you will. I did not like it.

However there is one thing I really hate more than anything: Rollerbladers.

1. Rollerbladers have very wide strides and I can't fucking stand it. It is always a near accident when I need to pass the side by siders because inevitably a god damneded rollerblader is coming in the opposite direction taking up their lane and the lane in the opposite direction. They are bent over like Olympic speed skaters and it is super nerdy and they should be issued a ticket of some sort for the whole display.

2. There is just no way around it. I am sorry...if you rollerblade, you are a douche bag. There is no word that describes a rollarblader better than douche bag. Who the heck rollerblades? It is 2008. Let's get rid of this whole rollerblading thing. It is so mid-90's. Do they even sell rollerblades anymore?

Pride, yo!

2008-06-28T17:26:00.005-05:00

In honor of gay pride weekend in Chicago...I am posting some selections from Someecards.com. Hey, if this isn't showing support to the gay community - I don't know what is.

I love someecards. They make me laugh out loud. Not really laugh - I just kind of let out a "HA!" There is something for every occasion at someecards.com. If you are easily offended I suggest you make it easy and just not read them.

This is so true:

Then...I am just adding this one because it is one of my favorites:

Put your cart away

2008-06-28T17:05:00.003-05:00

One of the things in this world that annoys me is people that can't be bothered to return their shopping cart back to the shopping cart corral or back to the store. What is this about? I think these people really need to think about their life. What it is about, where they are, what there issue is. What in the name of Christ is so hard about walking 50 feet? I mean really. Are you that lazy? Come on.

Worse than not taking cart back: the person that is struggling and expending all this energy and time to hoist the cart up onto a curb as to secure the cart in that area....instead of taking it to a designated area.

It is such a god damn weird thing to do. It is like 'I am courteous and do not want my cart to go on the run and damage cars, yet I don't want to conform to the norms of society...so instead of just taking it back to the store which would be easier and quicker, I am going to mess around with this cart for 5 minutes and secure in on the curb.'

You know you have seen it. You may have done it. Stop it. We must stop this.

I will now be happy...

2008-06-23T21:08:00.002-05:00

...I am no longer going to freak out about being all 31 and unmarried.

What freaks me the most about this is that I will get married late and it will too late for me to have children. And if I do - they will have issues.

Then...it dawned on me....my grandmother was 36 when she had my father and my grandfather was 40....

and that was in 1947.

Now - I am not saying my father does not have issues with rage - but he can function as an individual in society.

What the heck am I worrying about if my grandma was near social security when she had my dad??

I am a fool...this goes back to the peasant issue.

POWER TO THE PEASANTS! POWER! Royals and their deformed babies at age 30. I scoff at them.

You know what - I might not be in line for receiving any kind of royal inheritance...but I can have normal children in my mid to late 30's. And those kids will be warriors....WARRIORS...never to burn in the sun or fall ill to some alleged influenza. Is this real? I have never had this alleged illness...it is for cry babies. And NO - I am NOT getting that shot when I am with child - they will have to chase me down the street with it. My children are also not getting the chicken pox vaccine. I will send my kids to a chicken pox party like I was sent to. It wasn't a party - I was just sent to play with the neighbors because I was like 8 and never had them.

Why did I never have them? Peasant Blood. When you need to work in the field at 5 - you have no time for The Pox.

My mother also never took us to the doctor...you had to be coughing blood or a bone sticking out of your skin. It was like a getting a time out in rugby. But...I have been on antibiotics 5 times (and that is being generous) in my life. As I always say - my immune system could kill a bull with his balls tied up.

I gotta hand it to the peasants...

How shocking is this: I got one less set of vaccines than normal kids my age. My doctor believed it was unnecessary (a man before his time). I was not permitted to school. My doctor had to get on the phone or send a note or something. And now kids have an insane amount of vaccines compared to what we did. That is what Jenny says. I know nothing about it. I am lying - I will probably vaccine up my kid for fear of death.

But they will get the shingles and all the odd illness I have in my bag....I will admit that my peasant intestines can no hold up to food poisoning - we were never the royal testers. The score: Food Poisoning: 3 Dysentery: 1 Mere: conquered them all.

mmmm Dysentery....killed over half the people of westward expansion - Mere: conquered it. This is my most proud achievement to date. You try extreme pain - like someone is cutting your insides with a knife and shitting blood for 5 days...not my favorite part of life.. I was near suicide and I got through it... I consider it a triumph.

Watch out you royal sickly cry babies....the peasants are taking over the world.

However - there is one thing that is different from then and now....our fucking food. I swear this is the issue of today and people are ignoring it. I will spend the extra buck and only buy meat not influenced by hormones. It is probably aging my eggs. Great..now I need to waltz into my butcher and ask if it is hormone meat...I will be embarrassed. It is inexpensive..it must be. But all the trendy urbanites shop there.......I will call...they will lie to me.

Baked Goods...

2008-06-23T17:51:00.007-05:00

This weekend I had to make cupcakes for a baby shower. I am not going to go into the cupcakes...just my complete insanity that goes along with them...

I hated how they turned out. I freaked out. I was going to throw them away and buy a cake at the local grocer.

This is how crazy I am. It is a shame I don't care this much about say...loosing 30 pounds and keeping my home tidy and flossing my teeth. Instead...I focus all my insanity of perfection on baked goods.

Which is worthless to myself and society in general.

Later I realized they were awesome and I was a fool for thinking otherwise.

Why do I care this much about my baked goods?

Because I like it when people are impressed. I like it when people swoon over my artfully decorated items.

"YOU made these?" they proclaim!

And I modestly say "Yes, yes I did"

"Oh it must have taken hours and hours!!!"

"Oh...no...no that long, it was nothing" I lie out my ass. In reality I was sweating over them...literally. If you ever taste one of my highly decorated cookies and something is slightly salty- that is probably a drop of my sweat.

This is what I live for. This flattery.

But every time this flattery occurs...my low self worth side creeps in and whispers to me: "They are just saying that because it is clear you made an effort and they don't want to hurt your feelings. They knew it took you 900 hours and they don't want you to feel bad. They are sparing your feelings. You are like a 31 year old mentally challenged girl that made macaroni necklaces for everyone at the group home. Everyone is saying they love them - when in reality you are just a sad, sad case with the mentality of a five year old"

This is all part of my crazy behavior.

Why do I do this? Why do I put myself through the insanity it often brings me? Because I like to make things special and I think that if I do this people will know I care. But maybe they just wanted a cake from the local grocer...too bad. When I am in charge - no one gets a cake from the local grocer. You will get my sweat laced baked goods and you can have the pleasure of knowing I went a little more insane in the process.

Proof of Peasantry

2008-06-15T17:28:00.004-05:00

It has come to my attention that I am indeed of peasant stock. I require no sunscreen. My skin just deflects damaging UV rays. I was out riding my bike for at least 2.5 hours today in the sun without sunscreen. There is no change in color to my arms. None. If there is it is so slight I can not tell.

Thousands of years of my peasant people farming or possibly it is my Scandanavian Viking roots. When you have your ass in a field at age two or you are working a large ship and raping and pillaging all the live long day...this is what you give your lineage.

Of course I do burn - but it takes a long time. Sometimes it happens when I don't expect it - but for the most part...I require no screen.

I do apply the sunscreen to my face, everyday. But this is just to prevent premature aging and more importantly - to prevent my Juan Valdez. What is my Juan Valdez? It is this skin discoloration above my lip. No this is not unsightly hair. I remove the hair and the Juan Valdez is still present. This started happening two summers ago and now I am crazy for preventing it. Go ahead...stare at me sometime in the summer...you may see my Juan Valdez.

By the power of grayskull

2008-06-08T23:22:00.004-05:00

First of all: Funny funny funny that two of you think I look like the lady from American Gothic. Do you not know anything of people with the self deprecating sense of humor? We are actually fragile people with low self esteem and self worth. We are trying to beat you to the punch. So then what do you do? You beat me. You bring me down by saying - yes - you actually do look like that old hag from American Gothic. I kid. I know you are kidding. I like it. I am glad we can share in the amusement.

The real problem is the three that think I look like this Melinda character. DUDE - she looks like Skeletor. Well...I guess it is a good thing I weigh six times her weight and I can be assured that at least 20 lbs of that is in my fat face and I don't actually look like He-Man's arch enemy.

That is all...now read my other new blog:

5 thoughts from the past few days

2008-06-08T22:53:00.003-05:00

1. I do not care for Matthew McConaughey. I am not a conventional lady and I don't find him physically attractive. Too skinny. See post on David Beckham. But regardless of his looks. He is f-ing annoying. I mean really...do you really want to sit around and listen to his zen-excessive-dope-smoking-hippy-horsecrap? I think not. He is the kind of person that thinks they are smart and have it all figured out and in reality you just want to sit them down and say "Hey...I need you to understand you are dumb, possibly partially mentally disabled in some way. Please don't speak unless you are talking about the color of your shoes"

2. I favor the northern part of the U.S. to the southern.

3. Why is it when you hit the volume on a TV, the meter comes up across the bottom on the screen? Really it should come up the side, since the bottom is where subtitles and other information is located. This is a design flaw that needs to be addressed.

4. Why is it that I can't carry more than 3 oz. of liquid on a plane but someone can carry on their cat? The cat has more than 3 oz. of liquid in it and it is not even in a zip lock bag. If someone can board a plane with their dander spreading beast than I should be able to bored a plane with a liter of balsamic vinegar and light up a cigarette or a crack pipe.

5. I thought of becoming a flight attendant this weekend until I realized that I freak out about turbulence. I lean over and start begging The Maker to spare my life so I can get married and have some kids. At the very least spare my life until I loose at least 30 lbs. Why? Because in any situation when people die in freak occurrences - the will show a photo on the news. You know the drill: If it is an attractive thin girl, people think: Poor girl. That is so sad. It it is a chubby girl, people think: Oh well...perhaps now that the earth has been relieved of her weight some how global warming will be reversed, good riddance.

Now I really freaked out on the landing on this trip because of this:

The flight attendant says that we need to prepare for landing early since there are thunderstorms. "Blah blah put your seats up, store your carry-ons. OH - and just as a reminder - if there is an emergency landing you do need to leave your carry-ons behind. Thanks"

WHAT?

Is that foreshadowing?

Is that plane crash foreshadowing?

You are allowed to speak of emergency landings ONCE...and that is the in beginning of the flight. Not at then end when we are talking about thunderstorms.

We begin smooth flying....no turbulence. Nothing. Great. We have no landing gear. They forgot to de-ice the plane. The hydraulics are messed up. We have lost all engine power. We are going to die. We are going to land in Busse Woods and get eaten by savage deer. I could not find the station with the cockpit audio. I am left to assume I will soon be jumping into a large yellow slide...if I am lucky. Clearly they want to tell no one of our impeding doom as not to cause any kind of in-flight pandemonium.

Turns out...we lived.

Me and My Face

2008-06-04T14:31:00.010-05:00

I am bored out of my skull because I had a piece of furniture delivered today and the AT&T man came. Far be it from me to go into work. I should be productive - but I choose not to be. Instead I entertain me with....me.

I was on my friend's blog for this and I said I would bring it to mine.

Why? Well...I like to talk about myself and I like to look at myself and flatter myself with who I look like.

My two favorite are actually the least flattering. I have been told I look like these people by more than one person on different occasions. Well expect the kid from Dazed and Confused...my friend used to play the last scene from that movie in slow motion and tell me I looked like him. As for American Gothic - I made that up. I can't help it. When I see the beginning of Desperate Housewives- I think. Damn it...I look like that farmer's wife.

There are a lot and most are flattering. I am telling you - this is what I have been told. I tried to find photos circa the era I was told that in. I also get told I look like a foreigner on occasion and people try to speak polish to me so I am not sure what that says.

Anyway so here are my look a-likes and me:

I would ask who yours are and post them - but I know that no one but my friend Katie will admit to the BAD twins. Own up to your bad twin...and we will talk.

Quite the scene...

2008-05-30T17:45:00.004-05:00

After bringing my laundry down...

I couldn't bring myself to go back up the stairs.

So instead I went outside and around the building to the front door.

Then I realized...it is clear I have a gun of some sort stuck in the back of my pants.

Then I saw some police so I started to do some kind of side-step-grapevine move with my back to the building.

No...that is not suspicious behavior at all...

Well...

2008-05-30T17:09:00.004-05:00

Turns out there is a good reason guns should be illegal.

When you don't use them for 3 years you forget how to use them and you are fiddling with them, you are peering down the barrel, you are shooting around your house to see if it is loaded and how to shoot it.

If I only I could have taped what I have been doing for the last 15 minutes I could have made a video called "What Not To Do With a Gun of Any Sort"

UGH! I have no clue how to load the damn BBs....

BLASTED BB GUN!

Update: went on-line and is loaded and ready. I had to cock it to open the BB depository...and I have no clue how to uncock it...unless i shoot. It remains cocked.

ahhhh- ha here I am with my discreetly placed BB

Lock and Load

2008-05-30T16:50:00.004-05:00

Well...it was bound to happen.

Saw a mouse in my faux patio stairwell.

I am saying it was mouse when I know it is a rat...it makes me feel better.

I did my crazy sally scream. A shrill up and down scream. We were at a stand off mid-way up the second stair case. I was screaming he moved toward me. I did my shrill scream again and he ran for cover.

Reload the BB. I will be carrying that with me when I do laundry and I will now just be exiting out the front door.

I have taken to making my music match my most recent blog again.

Only the first line of Cotton...and let me tell you, happiness is indeed a warm gun...or in my case - a cold spring loaded BB. I actually forgot how much I love that song.

Rain Man

2008-05-26T21:35:00.002-05:00

Last night...at 2AM my friend and I were walking back to my apartment and there was a fully nude man - jerking off - in the alley - in the pouring rain.

This is not something one sees everyday.

I yelled to him "What are you doin'?????"

I am not sure he answered me - but he did stop his manic self pleasure..

Bike Ride to CBG

2008-05-24T10:11:00.013-05:00

I went on a bike ride, a long one. I headed north and saw this. So I thought I would send a shout out to my Mormon friends:

On the ride there was lots of this:

And this:

And endless amounts of these:

Then...there was this...odd:

The fabulous North Branch of the Chicago River...which reminds me of Deliverance and then I freak out:

The Skokie Lagoons...hmmm....I'm not impressed.

Finally...my destination: The Chicago Botanical Gardens...mind you not located in Chicago. Pretty place:

There were free roaming swans...These animals should be caged. They are aggressive beasts.

I wasn't at the gardens long because I fear darkness would fall upon the land before I made it home and we all know that these turn into savage flesh eating demons at dusk...

Perhaps the End of the Squirrel Era

2008-05-21T20:42:00.004-05:00

Yesterday evening I went to leave my apartment - via squirrel area.

I heard his cackling scream...similar to the laugh of the devil himself from the depths of hell.

I closed the door, hung my defeated head and left out the front door.

Damn it. IT IS running my life.

This morning I left out the back door and I noticed something suspicious at some one's back door...a cardboard box with towels draped on it.

I have seen movies.

When people rescue injured birds or other woodland creatures - there is always a cardboard box and towels to make it comfortable.

I am led to believe someone has set up a nice bed for this beast. That is not right. People are crazy.

Oh well - let's invite in the rats. Why stop there? Let's get some opossums and pigeons. Let's make this the Ritz for disease carrying animals.

Now, this could just be me jumping to conclusions. I noted the box was gone when I returned home. I have not seen the squirrel again, but I continue to live in fear.

This evening I finally got my BB from my car. I looked like a common criminal: Opened up my trunk. Looked over both shoulders. Opened my secret compartment. Again, looked over both shoulders...took out my BB - looked at it - and shoved it in my bag along with my carton of 6,000 Copperhead BBs (there is probably 5,758 left).

I feel like I am living on the edge. Like, I am bad ass. Me and my BB. I think it is the fact that the BB is illegal. I am an outlaw. I have an illegal item in my home now and I enjoy it. I am thinking of getting a antique display case for it as though it is a relic from the civil war....my plastic BB gun. Come on - it would be so funny.

I am not even going to go into how absurd it is that BB guns are illegal in this city. I have a right to protect myself against a possibly rabid terrorizing furry tailed tree rat. For all I know - it is working with the Al Qaeda.

I am hoping they have that program this summer where you turn in your gun for $100 Best Buy gift card. I ain't no fool. Then - I am having someone from the burbs get me a proper CO2 BB. YEAH!!!! Then I'll be HARD CORE. Then I will be a squirrel killing machine!

I was going to post a picture of me and my BB. Perhaps with some kind of American flag and the Confederate Flag...perhaps set in a library. Maybe I could have the Bible in one hand, gun in the other. Then I realized - for one thing I don't have access to any of these props and.....people just don't have a sense of humor. But really - it would be funny.

*this post is in jest I house no illegal arms

CURSES!!!!

2008-05-17T22:37:00.002-05:00

I successfully enter and left via my back door twice and no squirrel.

Then I left again. I live on the 3rd floor - which is really the 4th.

I go down 2 flights...and I am met with Mr. Squirrel. He started doing that noise...the angry squirrel clicking noise.

In fear for my life, I marched back up the stairs and then left via the front door.

Great. This F-ing squirrel is running my life.

I will not take this.

The problem I see is the elusive behavior. So I can't call my lord of the land...what is he going to do? Sit with some nuts and lure the alleged squirrel out? The guy will think I am crazy after hours of no squirrel.

Solution:

I have a B B gun. It is in the secret drug smuggling compartment of my car. If you have a VW and do not know about this...don't feel bad. I had the car for at least 3 years before I found it. Right now there is a BB gun and a stuffed Paddington Bear...dont' ask.

Anyway...The BB is coming out. It isn't even CO2. It is spring loaded. If I actually hit the squirrel - it will be like a pinch. So don't worry you nutty animal lovers.

I am going to be armed and dangerous with this BB.

Although I KNOW THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA.

My BB looks like an actual hand gun.

Can you imagine? I am in the faux porch area of my apartment building waving around what appears to be a hand gun???

Someone will call the police.

I will be arrested.

It will make a good blog entry if nothing else.

I am willing to risk it...

Sally

2008-05-17T12:41:00.003-05:00

This morning I was nearly killed by a deadly squirrel.

I fetched my bike from the bike/laundry room and was about 3 feet from the door when I noticed a squirrel was perched up on the door knob.

Wa. Help me.

I was in this hallway with my bike. I had no idea what to do. I froze. Then whimpered...sending the squirrel into a desperate frenzy.

It freaked out and I screamed like a gad damn sally when it ran towards me. I was holding the bike and he ran between the bike and I and then up and across the back tire and took a leap off my bike to a clear area. Nimble creature. I quickly evacuated.

I like the term sally. I find it to be offensive and demeaning to woman and that is why it is funny.

Scam

2008-05-14T21:04:00.002-05:00

Scams...panhandling scams...let's discuss:

I was at the farmer's market and this woman tried to scam me: with the 'ol "I just need 75 cents for the train" while holding one dollar bill. The prop is nice....but really.... that will not make it more believable to me.

First of all: I feel bad for people in these desperate situations. I think for one half second maybe they are telling the truth. What would I do? You know what I would do??? Start walking. I mean really...you are going to beg for 3 hours on your feet or you could just walk to your destination. The CTA is not getting you that far. You certainly aren't getting on an airplane in your current state of mess.

So - it is some kind of desperation or simple scamming that makes people do this. It is sad and awful, blah blah blah....however - I will not give my money to a liar. Well - it is my policy not to give money to any homeless person* or any person on the street unless they are preforming a service to me: like playing an instrument and enhancing the enjoyableness of my stroll.

When will this little scam end? I did not just move here. I am aware you are a liar.

I said no to her.

I went about my business in the market. She approaches me again.

I informed her that she already tried to scam me and the answer was still no. I am a fearless mouthy b!tch with the panhandlers.

This is one thing. But now - summer is nearly here so we will soon have the f-ing child exploiters out.

Who? What?

Oh you know it - if you live in Chicago:

"Will you buy some candy, my baseball team is buying new uniforms"

I have come to answer with "There is no baseball team"

I will probably be shot dead one day...lord knows with the statistics in this "guns are illegal" city - it is the scamming kids from the ghetto that have them.

I wasn't bothered the first few times I was faced with this. It was typically 12 - 15 year olds. I knew the were big fat liars - but they had an entrepreneurial spirit that I SUPPOSE - I could appreciate. At least they were not robbing people. I bought their products on several occasions - but always with disapproving eyes.

Then - I was told by a policeman friend that this is what happens:

Some a-hole buys a bunch of candy at Costco and then rounds these kids up in the ghetto and drives them to various locations to sell the goods. Then picks them up later for the spoils.

So....he is the pimp and they are the prostitutes. To put it simply. I am sure this guy is ripping them off.

Then - I saw a turn late last fall. I saw twice in my neighborhood a man with a five year old doing it.

Of course, I did my normal routine: "There is no basketball team" is what I said.

The man is exploiting his young child.

I don't care what your desperate measure is...you are exploiting your child.

So this season...I have my plan:

1. Person with young child: I am calling the police. You know how I love being a crime stopper. Be it illegal garbage disposal or higher crimes. First of all, they have no permit. Second - there will be no exploiting of small children under my watch.

2. Tween to teen: I will make them admit that there is no team. Then I will suggest they do two things:
a. Actually join some kind of team - and actually sell candy for it.
b. Cut out the middle man. The profit will be larger if they don't have this pimp. And perhaps add a bit of honesty into it. I will in fact buy a package of king size peanut M&Ms from some young kid trying to make a dime rather than a liar. However - keep the 'ol team uniform routine up when you are in high tourist area...that might be a good routine. I shall train them in reading the local from the tourist.

Either way - I'll probably be killed by September.

*I was on the red line on a Saturday afternoon. I hate the red line - it is dirty and smells of piss. So I was on a train car with 2 other women and a large scary man. Suddenly he stood up and said: "Ladies I was just released from prison" WHAT THE F??? Not a good icebreaker, my friend. Then he held up this document with his mug shot on it. I thought I was about to meet my maker. He went on to say that he was trying to make a new start, blah blah blah and need a few bucks. There is a 99% chance this was a scam. But then I thought about it through several stops - maybe it isn't and he really is trying to turn his life around. So I gave him $2. The $2 seemed worth it if he really was and he was being honest. FINE - he probably wasn't. But I slept that night...I would have been pondering it all night if I had not.

*as a note: Once....I was saw a girl begging on a train. She looked familiar to me. Then I figured it out. She wasn't MY friend in high school...but a friend of a friend. I went to a R.E.M. concert with her. I hung out with her several times. She was a drug addict so I was not completely surprised - but still - SHOCKING.

The Wink

2008-05-08T21:08:00.002-05:00

If there is one thing I could be in life...it would be a winker.

You know these people...you KNOW you want to be them. There are VERY FEW of these that have mastered it...but surely you have run across them:

The people that slide in a wink when talking. It is THE MOST CHARMING thing. It makes you feel special. "oh look...they winked at me...I am in their special circle. I am chosen. I am in their royal favor" that is what you think.

Today I learned that the power of the wink is something that even small children are amused and spellbound by.

I was seated next to a two year old. She was staring at me and I tried the simple smile and got nothing out of her. Just the who-are-you-and-why-are-you-seated-next-to-me-stare.

Then...something came over me and when I looked back at her I winked. She smiled a cute open mouth smile. I won her over with a wink.

The power of the wink is not to be taken lightly. Surely Hitler was a winker...I of course would use my wink for good, unlike him. But we can not deny the power.

I will become a winker. I will. I have said this a million times and it never happens. But...I will try.

Lord - make me a winker.

For the love of all things...

2008-05-05T07:27:00.003-05:00

please Hillary...hire an acting coach.

You are so fake and so insincere. What was the Indiana speech about getting your engines started? Was that for real?

I can not believe people are buying what you are selling.

PLEASE - if you are going to continue....FOR THE LOVE OF GOD - GET AN ACTING COACH!!

It's an Urban Bike Ride, Yo!

2008-05-04T15:07:00.022-05:00

I was out riding about town up north and then as I was about to turn home...I decided it was so nice out that I would ride down to the zoo and photo document my adventures...

It's an urban bike ride, yo!!

Turn around so I can take a nice picture you lazy worthless beast:

I became hungry on my voyage so I ate this:

People great and small love the polar bears:

I am glad this is not my job:

I am a lover of the conservatory:

One day the kingdom that I was kidnapped from will find me. Then when I return to rule my land I will have a greenhouse with the flowers from above and a giant palm...

and a koi pond...

And a nice tree that has these giant blooms...

The next time I come down here, these gardens better be planted. Or there will be hell to pay:

The gentleman with the sweater tied around his neck hijacked the boy's razr scooter and then wiped out on it. It was cool

I smelled someone smoking the dope on the lake front path:

Did I ride my bike to Phoenix? El Pollo Loco is in Chicago, ready to serve you some flamed grilled chicken

Thas Right, Ya'll:

I am also a lover of grand city churches. This one needs some work but it is still charming

What is going on here? There is a sign that says "Happy Birthday Buddah 2632", Will there be a performance?

What I am looking for is....

2008-05-04T10:27:00.002-05:00

I have been to various card stores looking for a card for mother's day. This task is difficult. I can not find a card.

Most cards make me want to puke. Do people seriously send this mushy crap to their mom? There should be a camera on me when I read these cards. I visibly freak out when I read them and then shove them back in their display case in complete disdain.

I am looking for a card that says something like:

Clearly you have done a fine job rearing me. You have taken part in giving me good looks...Look at me for Christ sake...I am fantastic looking. But you drive me nuts. Absolutely NUTS! But I love you. Happy Mother's Day.

Time to toot my own funny horn...

2008-05-03T18:42:00.003-05:00

I am funny.

I don't care what anyone says. I am the funniest person I know.

I believe the mark of a truly funny person is when they make jokes when half asleep or when wildly drunk.

Last night I was asleep and my friend called from Arizona.

It was 10:45 her time. She asked what time it was here. I said "12:15". I meant to say 12:45 but I was half asleep and I couldn't get the words out.

She explain that it is was not possible it was 12:15....

I said "I am in my own time zone, bitch"

Maybe it isn't that funny. But it really was. I am funny.

I think one of the funniest things I ever said was when I was wildly drunk at Stanford and I was causing all kinds of trouble trying to escape this dorm lunchroom that the rich bitches at Stanford put us up in.

Side note: You know how I feel about private schools. This fact only feeds my disapproval: Ummmm...hello? That was the richest school we ever stayed at and it was the worst in hospitality. What? Did they think that at state schools we actually lived in the cafeteria, hence we would feel at home? Probably. Whatever - I am sure that 90% of Stanford graduates run around with a stick lodged up their ass and that is uncomfortable and makes for an unhappy individual...if they are trying to figure out why they are unhappy - I would say the stick and...they paid $150K for an undergrad degree. You are smart.

I hope Stanford is in fact private after I made all my comments. I also hope I offended everyone that went to a fancy private school. I am kidding - this is not meant to offend. People are only offended who take themselves too seriously. Which if you went to a private school...you probably do. HAHAHAHAHA.

So anyway...there I was trying to escape and I said: "I could escape this Alcatraz, if only I had an accomplice"

Given the area we are in: One must admit...it was clever. I am clever little hell raising state school educated drunk.

I had no memory of saying this. So when I was told I did...I couldn't stop laughing or congratulating myself on how darn funny I am.

Coming Soon....

2008-05-03T17:58:00.003-05:00

A Julius Meinl is coming to my hood. This further proves I made an excellent choice in hoods.

I enjoy Julius Meinl because one is served their hot beverage choice on a silver platter with a piece of chocolate. All food served to me should come on a silver platter with a piece of chocolate. There is a lot to be said for presentation.

I will pay extra for presentation.

When I was getting the Julius Meinl image for this blog I found out something quite disturbing...it appears that the Julius Meinl on Southport in Chicago is the only one in The United States. Could this be accurate?

This is a crime. Brining more Julius to the U.S. should be on the lips of everyone running for President. I mean really people, health care reform and war can take a back seat to this issue. Let's be real.

Why as Americans are we settling for Starbucks in a paper cup when we could have coffee on a silver platter? We are Americans, damn it. Self absorbed, entitled Americans that should be demanding the very best. Fuck the cup, give me a silver tray.

Eating is my Passion

2008-04-24T21:53:00.003-05:00

There are some people you are friends with and you really don't know why.

Others...it is obvious....

It is clear to me that I am friends with Hope because - she likes to eat.

Hope is an actual person - I am not saying my friend Hope as in, my friend: a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. I am not saying I am hanging out with my personal hope. I am not running around town getting a table for two: me and my hope. Left there with an empty seat for my expectation and desire. That would be weird.

I moved to a new neighborhood that has the most excellent variety of eating establishments.

Today we dined and not one...but two resturants. Oink.

I find that eating improves the quality of my life. I like to try everything. I like a companion that is not afraid to try anything. I also like a companion that will let me eat off their plate.

Hope provides me with these needs.

I can also read her mind because I have the same piggish thoughts.

We settled in to Tank to enjoy some sushi and she paused and said "I am thinking..."and paused again.

I knew what she was thinking - or at least I was hoping I knew.

"Tell me" I said "I think it is going to be a good idea"

A good idea because I knew she was thinking my idea and I am nothing but full of good ideas...except in the case of trying to open exploding coffee makers....

She explained we would go on a food crawl - like a pub crawl but this would center around eating and not drinking although wine would accompany our food.

I KNEW IT! This was my idea! I LOVE IT! She is a brilliant lady as am I. I LOVE TO EAT! OINK!

So we shared two rolls of sushi at Tank with some wine. Then we moved onto Fiddlehead Cafe and had some small plates and soup and I enjoyed a flight of champagne.

That is where the crawl ended.

There is going to be lots of crawling this summer. I will be eating up and down Lincoln Avenue.

Goal Weight: 300lbs

Earthquake...

2008-04-22T21:38:00.005-05:00

The funny part about this earthquake business...is that if someone told me they felt it - I would have said they were a big fat ol' liar that wanted a piece of the action. I would say they are a desperate human looking for attention. A freak.

Turns out - I felt the earthquake.

I don't think such a thing would normally have woke me up. But, it was the first night in my new apartment and I had become accustom to waking up in the 4AM hour due to the demands of tax season.

In addition, I would not normally even say I felt the earthquake because I would not want people to think I was lying. This is what I think so...this is what everyone thinks.

The only reason I talk about it - is because I find the whole thing funny.

When I woke up I thought it was some kind of boiler or other building racket. GREAT. I moved into some kind of piece of crap building. Is this going to occur nightly? This is insane. How can people live here? I was pissed.

I could not believe my luck. I picked a shotty building. I imagined going to the trouble of anchoring my fine IKEA cabinet to the wall and got more pissed...I couldn't be bothered with that nonsense! I got more angry thinking about how I will have to take care in where I place all my valuable breakable antiques.

I kid, I have no antiques.

Then...I said to myself: I think this is an earthquake.

I considered standing in a doorway - but I was too lazy. I figured I would be buried in a small amount of ruble, being on the top floor - so whatever.

When I got up in the morning I immediately reported to my TV and found out it was indeed an earthquake.

Now...I find it highly annoying when people say: How did you know it was an earthquake. They ask and look at me like I am also LYING about knowing it was an earthquake. Get over it, ok. My brain is better than yours. I just know things. I am smarter than the average bear. My reasoning skills are superior to most. I should be working for NASA, okay. Get over it.

I don't know how to explain what it is that made me believe it was an earthquake. I think it is the constant shaking of it. I mean really...what else could it be? It doesn't have the characteristics of something mechanical. If something like a boiler is about to explode I feel like it will grumble and spurt. If it was a bomb - well...there would be some kind of boom, a great initial shake and then trail off. This is what I assume - having reasoning skills.

What else??? Plus - apparently I have a skill for remembering things I learned pre - 1987. It seemed few knew there was a quiet fault line in Illinois. I guess I have a passion for plate tectonics.

These are the same people with these questions: Back in AZ, I was telling a riveting tale of how I tripped over a speed bump one night when I running. I had this bloody knee, gobs of blood flowing out of my knee -- and I met a coyote on the road.

My story interrupted- EVERY TIME:

"How did you know it was a coyote?"

WHAT? How wouldn't I? I can identify most animals as I am over the age of 3. It certainly was not an elephant, or parakeet, or great white shark, or dinosaur.

It was a coyote.

I mean really - come on! Then of course comes the "How did you know it wasn't a dog?"

What? If you can't tell the difference between a coyote and a St. Bernard or any other domesticated canine you have problems. Please do not leave your home - it is not safe for you.

You are going to be like that girl in the movie Adventures in Babysitting that is petting the rat because she thinks it is a cat.

Hooray for April 15

2008-04-14T22:46:00.003-05:00

I will have my life back as of tomorrow.
I hope to escape my prison by noon...or at least 3PM.

Story Time

2008-04-12T20:42:00.003-05:00

I should be packing. Instead I decided to tell a tale from my past - because - they are enjoyable. I like to tell ones that are referenced in comments, because I forget all my funny stories until they are mentioned....and I have a bag of them. A large bag that can not be carried on. It must be checked.

Title: Suck My D*ck. Suck My God Damn D*ck

Once upon a time I lived in Phoenix. In Phoenix, they have these great things: drive-thru liquor stores.

Some ask - why is this necessary? I will tell you: This is convenience at its finest.

One night I went out to get some beer. Although there was a closer liquor store - I would never return there because I was attacked by a GIANT flying cockroach the last time I was there. I mean GIANT - I am talking 5 inches long (I am not exaggerating). I thought an invisible man hit me with an invisible bat. Nope...just the local giant flying cockroach flying into my arm. Oh my - I just went into convulsions thinking about it. I was crying when I left. I did not want to exit. But the people that sit out side (I lived in an area next to the ghetto) the liquor store assured me it was killed.

Back to the title story:

So I am driving as to drive through the liquor store.

Now...I need to pass the store before I turn in. As I pass it I note there is a man standing in front of the drive-thru screaming something to the busy street.

Whatever. This is normal behavior for where I am currently residing. The local Safeway Grocery turns into the bumpin' supermarket for tweeked out people past 9PM. Complete with harsh, explicit, underground, loud rap music. I swear this is true. It was weird. I lived in the ghetto.

**It should be noted - after becoming fearful of the local grocery store I decided to go to the Mexican Mercado. Where - my first time...I was told in the parking lot that I was a "white b*tch". I then bought groceries in a different part of Phoenix...far from where I lived.

**It should also be noted that I now live in the big bad city of Chicago - and these things have never happen to me. Well...except the Starburst thing...story for another day.

So I think nothing of the screaming man and I have no idea what he saying until I pull in. He is screaming to Southern Avenue:

"SUCK MY DICK, SUCK MY GOD DAMN DICK" over and over and over.

He is angry. He is screaming to no one in particular. Just the world.

By the time I have figured out what he is saying I have already committed myself to the drive-thru. He is now standing in front of the window...screaming to the street.

He sees me.

I see him.

One has the right to carry a concealed weapon in Arizona. I am not driving the pope-mobile. My brain is working the math. I don't want to offend him. I would have to reverse to get out of the situation, seems offensive. I must meet the obstacle. I have no choice but to continue to the window. Befriend the possible danger.

I creep up in my car.

Man is still screaming to the street.

He looks at me, pauses.

I need to say something...anything.

He continues the screaming about sucking his dick - yet looking at me every other second.

"oh..are they open?" I say

He stops at "SUCK M..."

"Oh yeah baby, they are open - you go right on order what you need, and have a nice evening SUCK MY DICK. SUCK MY GOD DAMN DICK"

The man - stopped and turned into this kind gentleman for 2 seconds and then carried on with his screaming dick sucking epilogue.

He even smiled and waved to me as I left...while, of course screaming..to the street: "SUCK MY DICK. SUCK MY GOD DAMN DICK"

odd. but true

Paranoid

2008-04-12T20:15:00.002-05:00

I became paranoid that I should not post certain things on my blog. Hence - I deleted the "confessions" entry.

As I get older I become:

a. more compassionate for others

b. more paranoid about troubles with the law and other authorities

It is not like I lived a highly illegal life or anything - sure I have had a minor in consumption and a criminal speeding ticket among other things. But really - a minor isn't that big of a deal. And you know...when you are driving through a place called Gila Bend at 11PM - is it really that big of a deal to go 95 in 30? Technically since I thought the limit was 75 - I consider it 20 over.

Sometimes I consider myself a glutton for punishment - it seemed like I always got caught doing things everyone did. But then I am not sure. Maybe I was just more naughty than others and I got caught doing things because I did them at a higher frequency.

Who knows...