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What’s In A Name?

26 Sep


So…I’m at the age where everyone is pushing out spawn. Some people my age already have THREE kids. Damn, simmer down. I know there’s not much to do in Bakersfield, but there’s more to do than breed. Play some Canasta or something. I know it’s natural and, if the people aren’t dumb asses, is a good thing; but there is something that has been SUPER annoying to me lately.

I work in Beverly Hills now (la de frickin’ dah) so the world of stupid names has opened up like a blossoming flower…the one that smells like dead people.  I don’t really know what these women are thinking. Are they mad because the babies jacked up their bodies  so they’re taking it out on the kid?  With some of these dumb ass names, these poor kids is going to get their asses beat as soon as they hit pre-school!


Aslan. If you’re thinking, “Oh God, that kid can’t be named after the fictional lion from ‘The Lion The Witch & The Wardrobe!?!’ Think again. I know of one child with that name. I thought it was a boy….nope.  I’m sure that her parents will tell her she can do whatever she wants to do…think again, not with that name, kid.

Naming children after types of fabric. The only person I could see doing this and getting away with it would be Martha Stewart because she’s super into crafts. Anyone else, NO.


Any Italian name. This one just pisses me off because 99% of these kids are NOT ITALIAN, they’re like….Aryan race looking babies whose last name is Smith. I’m not Chinese, so I wouldn’t name my kid some Chinese name. All these girls are named Bella, that means beautiful. News flash, a LOT of these girls are going to have self-esteem issues when they figure out their name is a lie. Enjoy those therapy bills.

Douche bag names. You know what I’m talking about. The names that were ruined for you because a d-bag you knew growing up had them. Why would you force your child into douche baggery? This category casts a WIDE net in my book. Any name ending with -den, -ton,-lynn, anyone named after an item the parents can NEVER afford, anyone named after a town/country they will never go to and are not from, anyone naming their child after a fucking PRISON!


What the hell happened to naming your kid after a grandparent? Here’s an example: my Grandmother’s name is Mary. NORMAL. The only jokes about that name refer to the mother of our Lord and Savior…better than being name fun of because you’re named after a porn star. (Mackenzie ,Reily, Brooklyn, Madison… know, named after their father’s favorite. Classy!)

I know you can name your kid whatever you want, doesn’t make it right. Also, not all of the names I’ve heard recently are stupid, but if you have a baby and are questioning if this post is directed at you…then yes, it is.


It’s Not Me, It’s You

14 Jul
What an inviting mascot.

What an inviting mascot…from your nightmares.

So…after enough years at the same job, I quit.  I worked there so long that I needed help from my roommate and friends to remember all the crazy ass stuff that I’ve seen and that has happened to me while working there. As many of you know I worked at a restaurant at a theme park in Southern California. (Figure it out.)Also, the mascot looks like a GIGANTIC Klan member…I didn’t just put a creepy racist clown photo up to creep you out for no reason. stupid people That job made be realize how INCREDIBLY stupid people are. I got  sick of explaining what penne is….PENNE! Where do people eat that they don’t know what a simple form of pasta is? Speaking of forms. It doesn’t matter what shape your pasta is assholes. It ALL tastes the same and it will all leave your stink hole the same way. Adults who bitch about what shape pasta they receive were the shit head kids that don’t eat crust and only wanted buttered noodles. And how is buttered noodles an acceptable dinner for kids?? There is ZERO nuterion in that. I didn’t even know that was an option for a dinner until I started that job in my twenties, why? Because my parents didn’t let me decide what I ate. Why? Because as my Dad said about parenting, “This is a dictatorship, not a democracy.” white devil! Most importantly, stereotypes are true. But the worst kind of  people (this is not limited to my place of work) are parents. Hands down. I’m sure those of you with kids are thinking, “You don’t have kids, you don’t know.” I’m not a parent, I’m a sane (angry) person. What I do know is, letting your kid pull their pants down and drop a watery deuce in the middle of our patio seating makes me want to punch you in your reproductive organs. Yes, that actually happened.merp Or when a kid crapped so hard, it shot up it’s back, the Mom washed it off in one of the bathroom sinks. She clogged that sink with poo, switched to the other sink, clogged that one and left the people crapping in the stalls with no sink to wash of their dooky hands. Those are just SOME of the gross stories I have. asshole kidKids are evil, but they are evil because of crappy parenting.  For example, parents letting their kids beat me with balloon animals like I was Joe Pesci at the end of Casino, or let them run around me while I carry 16 drinks…assholes. Little kids who have cellphones make me want to drop kick them into a fountain. Who are they texting? One, they don’t know how to spell. Two, when you’re 6 years old, the majority of the people you know in life are at the same dinner WITH YOU! I’ve seen a teenager, sitting right next to her Mom, tell her to “shut up” then threw a FORK at her Mom’s head! I wish the story ended with, ‘and then the Mom took her outside and beat her kid’s ass,’ but  she ended up calmly asking her violent hell child “what’s wrong?” GAH!  Once while I was taking an order, I had a kid look up at me and cough INTO MY MOUTH. The parents said nothing, dicks, I didn’t even excuse myself, I just walked away. Here’s a tip for other servers: If  the Mom is in the bathroom when it’s time to order, don’t go to the table because all modern fathers are useless. I truly mean that, they are just walking sperm donors. They don’t know what they’re own children are “allowed” to have. GOD DAMN IT! You’re a man, pick for them. Juice or water? Stop being a little bitch. Now, a happy story: One time a kid ran straight into a lamp pole. I laughed SO damn hard. eww get off meNow, I don’t have to deal with gross co-workers touching me or saying inappropriate things to me. What do I mean by inappropriate? ” I want to put olive oils all over your body and massage you with my feets, then put my big toe in your butt.”  Gross and I hate olive oil. Or customers wanting me to join them for a threesome, barf. People need to stop.

After all these terrible stories, do I miss it?  Well, it was easy, aside from all the assholes, and I made really good money….so kind of. 

Young Americans

8 Apr

dumbassSo…as I have said many times, I deal with an unusually high amount of idiots at my job…well, everywhere actually, they’re just more highly concentrated at my work. As I was getting my section ready one night I heard David Bowie being piped in and commented to a coworker about the song being so good and how I’d rather hear his songs than that stupid ass violinist playing the theme to Schindler’s List every night. (Because nothing says happy vacation time like the theme song from a movie about genocide, right?) Smart coworker agreed with me and then Dumbass chimed in. “Who the fuck is David Bowie?”

pray for brainsI Bea Arthured that d-bag. My eyes rolled back so far, I think I bruised them. Thankfully Smartie started the smack down for me, “Um, The Labyrinthine?” DA, “What the fuck is…how ever you say that word?”

I know what some of you hippies are thinking, “No, young people are smart. They’re always researching things on the interwebs.”

realpeople1 realpeople2

Me and only a handful of my friends use the computer for learning and not finding out where to buy a chin-do . Example: The trailer for Behind the Candelabra came out today. I looked up when Liberace died, then what happened to Liberace’s lover, which lead me to finding out what happened to his brother George. Welcome to my brain.

abby normalDumbass is a perfect example of what is wrong with the youth of America, they are not ashamed of their stupidity. Actually, they are proud of it, they flaunt it. I blame anti-bullying. I can hear you now, “Don’t make them feel bad for being stupid.” Why not? They try, with their abby-normal brains, to make me feel bad for being smart. If they could successfully put me down, they would essentially be bullying me. That seems to be ok with everyone though. It’s PC for dumb people to make fun of smart people but not vice versa. 

Thinking is hard, reading is hard…Smart people should be celebrated and dumb asses should want to change their ways. That probably won’t happen.  Maybe I should…lower expectations

and then….


…maybe I’ll only do the second thing. Come on dummies, stop being such…dummies!! Go learn one new thing today. Just one. And here’s some Bowie, for those of you who don’t know who he is.

Status Update

4 Mar
If you think this is directed at is.

If you think this is directed at you…it is.

So…stupid ass Facebook updates. I’ve been wanting to write about this topic for a long time, but apparently I wasn’t annoyed enough to do so.  I know what you’re thinking, if someone’s annoying, why don’t you delete them? I did, but these dummies are everywhere. After a conversation (read: bitch fest) with Kim, I found that I was not the only one who can’t stand this crap. There are a few different kinds of status updates that are especially annoying.

dunt do that

Hash tags. Facebook is not Twitter. I feel like I’m playing a sick grammar game about being able to read things that aren’t properly written out. Hash tags are used to help people search for things. I HIGHLY doubt anyone is searching for #ilovehimhelovesme. Write it in your diary. #Choke yourself.


Attention seekers. Yes, I understand, most people want attention, but I’m talking about a certain sort of attention.  People who complain about being sick, do you realize that is exactly what you’ll be bitching about when you’re 80? Call your Nanna and ask her how she’s doing…it will sound exactly the same as your latest update. Hip and cool, huh? Asking for hugs and telling people you feel overwhelmed or sad makes me want to smash your computer…call your Mom or get a pound puppy. Better yet, get a damn therapist because at least someone will get paid to listen to you…whiner.

f u

People who are constantly stating how amazing their life is. No, I’m not jealous. Of what? Your vacation? (That you loser husband let your Dad pay for.) Your (second) marriage?  Honestly, I think these people are convincing themselves that they are actually happy…or they’re assholes. If that is the case, I can’t wait for you to break-up/get divorced (again).  My black heart will enjoy every minute of it and so will everyone else, I’m just the only one ballsy enough to tell you.  And stop using phrases like: the hubs, the fam bam and the bestie. No one likes that.


What about me, aren’t I annoying? I’m a single chick in her late 20’s on the verge of becoming a cat lady, what do you think, genius? Of course I am. Unlike everyone else, I at least try to make my eccentricities entertaining to the world instead of making them want to scratch their eyeballs out after they’ve read whatever it is I wrote about. Plus, going to this blog takes a smidgen of effort, you don’t have to come here if you don’t want to. Seriously.

Do what you want, but entertain me.

Who Can It Be Now?

28 Jan

story of my life

maid 2

So…I starting using an online dating site ( my Grandma thinks the name is “It’s OK to be Stupid”) to help me meet someone before I give up on life, adopt 38 cats and begin wearing only Muumuus. I figured that since you have to answer questions and fill out profile crap, that would probably knock out enough idiots.

I thought wrong. Let me share some of the best messages I’ve received.  I have not altered these in any way, just copied and pasted them from my inbox. For those of you who don’t believe me when I tell you how tedious it is to wade through these morons, your brain will probably crap out the side of your head after this, so grab a wet wipe.

  • glass-essay1: “Pardon me for asking, but I’m very curious. What’s your bra size? Honestly. 34C or D?”

respect me1

respect my boobies

  • wineanddineyou: “Wolfgang Puck. Wine tasting in Santa Barbara. Sunday brunch at Hotel Bel Air. A night at the Four Seasons Westlake Village Spa. Good morning! Is there anything I can do or say to say YES to seeing me? I am a work a holic so I am seeking something casual. In exchange I am more than happy to help with your bills to see you maybe once every 2 weeks. Please…. You are really adorable and cute and I promise to show you a great time. You will have fun with me and laugh and you won’t regret it. I am happy to send you a photo of you’d please give me your email address.”
Since when do I look like Pretty Woman?

Since when do I look like Pretty Woman?

  •  issaaa: “hi there what ethnicity are you? :)” 
a brain..a heart..the nerve

Because my extreme paleness makes me racially ambiguous?

  • madiman: “just the ex-girlfriend I’m looking for.”
Really, dude?

Really, dude?

  • greatbirds: “Hello..? Could i be your slave…?”


  • glidingsaucers: “You almost capture the elegance of the mammary grope of the original. You must be the next Rodin.”
What are you even trying to say, dum dum?

What are you even trying to say, dum dum?

  • smartcutewriter: “Ok just read my profile and contact me. Nuff said :)”
Good writers don't use the word "nuff," jag weed.

Good writers don’t use the word “nuff,” jag weed.

  • ANDREW_IS_HORNY: “OMG!!!! i would soo fuk u hard in the ass nd pussy i’ll eat u out send me a naked pic of u nd i’ll send u 1”
My thoughts exactly.

My thoughts exactly.

And those are messages from the guys I did NOT go on dates with. One guy I met up with had a list to help him know when he was in love, also, he’s never been in love.  I got catfished…or Manti Te’o-ed, either way, that was weird and lame. Another guy told me he was into BDSM, banging old chicks and having them use strap ons on his b-hole.  That was on our first (and only) date.  And my personal favorite, I got dumped because, apparently, I’m “too sarcastic.” I feel like anyone who’s had more than a 10 minute conversation with me would figure that out rather quickly. It took him almost two months.

Damn, is this too sarcastic?

Is this reaction too sarcastic?

Thank you, my parents’ generation, for making the “men” I get to date. I love wasting all my pretty years weeding through this discouraging, never-ending, garden from hell.

This Ain’t My First Time At The Rodeo

11 Nov

Clearly, this is the bane of my existence.

So much for my momentary respite from dealing with the epidemic of asshole guys in my life. I turned around from writing about my last foray into dating, just to be hit by another  iceberg. Honestly, I’m not trying to become the Taylor Swift of blogging, but clearly life has other plans for me. Sadly, people either relate, sympathize or laugh with me when I write about this crap, so here I go again. Sit back while I tell you a tale about someone who told many tales.

The first time I made the acquaintance of this guy we met for a few drinks on the same property where we both work. For all intents and purposes, let’s call him “Woody.” He was a talker, it was almost as though someone was obsessively pulling his string! That meant I just sat back, enjoyed my drinks  and listened to him prattle on about himself since he asked me, maybe, one question. “Woody” hales from the Central Valley, near where I grew up, so I figured he wouldn’t be as asinine as the boys down here tend to be. He touted his chivalry from the word go, “I have two sisters, I know how to treat women.” Then the bill came and he said we could spilt it.

Oh yes, we’re almost 30, let’s go Dutch!

“Woody” also informed me, “If you want to hang out again, text me.” This guy seemed kind of funny and we had a few things in common.  But, as we all know by now, I’m a blunt person and want to be treated like a girl, NOT a bro. I told him, “I do want to see you again, you can call me.”

We both work very odd hours so, we started hanging out at my apartment afterwards. We would watch stand up specials. He likes comedy and thinks I’m a “comedy snob” like him. First of all, that’s not even a thing. Secondly, I know more about comedy than he does. I studied it, I’ve written/write it, I’ve performed and to me, what’s funny is funny–that’s it. (And you need to learn your stand up comedians better if you want to keep this “snob” title up, son.)

I, too, thought we were both on the same level of nerdiness. I have a secret love, not so secret anymore, of Star Wars. While discussing what celebrities we’ve hobnobbed with, I mentioned that one of the most impressive stars I’ve ever met was Debbie Reynolds. This guy, a self-proclaimed geek, didn’t even know that she is Princess Leia’s Mom.

Choke yourself.

Debbie Reynolds is a God damn delight to behold and the only reason Carrie Fisher became anything in the first place. Why do I know so much and others know…nothing?!

“Woody” even had a podcast and some stand up of his own work that I listened to. (No, I won’t post a link, I’m not giving some jerk free publicity! I’m not sad enough to be stupid.) To prove that I’m not a completely heartless, vengeful, bitch, I won’t say that he’s stuff was shitty because it wasn’t. One of the main reasons I liked this guy was because I thought I had finally found someone with whom I could be creative. His stuff needed work and the idea of doing that together was an intoxicating thought. Clearly, I got a little too drunk on the idea.

Woody: I don’t want to hurt you like the last guy.
Me: Then DON’T.

“Woody” and I got pretty close. He opened up about his past relationships. He reassured me and said “not to worry about” certain other girls from his past.  He was well aware about the Hindenbergh of my last jaunt into dating.  He even told me he didn’t want to lead me on like the last guy did. Unfortunately, he thought a certain blog entry  about the last doucher was directed towards him. Just like a man, thinking every little thing is about him. I liked “Woody.” So much that I even wrote another entry, expressing how sorry I was about “Woody” feeling like I had written something awful about him when he hadn’t deserved it…yet. At the time he was also expressing that he didn’t know if he was ready for a relationship, which is why he found a few similarities between the post and his life. Trust me, I felt like I was watching the same, crappy re-run. Like that episode of ‘Saved By The Bell’ you hate, but always end up catching on WGN when you can’t sleep. Just like that!

Then, he stood me up.  YEA!!! That…again! A day later he got off his ass and text me back, “I’m horrible at communication. I don’t know how I feel.”

What? That’s such a stupid, dick head excuse.  It’s 2012, you’re 27, try again.

I know you saw the texts, you didn’t have the balls to respond until a day later with a lame excuse. He feigned an attempt to mend his fences, but I knew something was up. I’ve dated too many assholes not to know in my gut when something is wrong. I felt it coming, the Joan Crawford inside of me knew.

“This ain’t my first time at the rodeo. And don’t you forget it.” – Joan Crawford.

On Thursday, “Woody” had informed me that he wasn’t going to be driving back down from visiting family until the following day and we would hang out some time this weekend. *Ting* Something’s not right again.

As I drove around LA, going from lunch with a friend to having cocktails with Rog, I look into the craptastic Los Angeles traffic and saw….”Woody.”

Oh, helllll naw. I did NOT just see that!

I see weird crap all the time, but this really took the cake. I raced to Musso & Franks for a stiff cocktail. I texted “Woody,” telling him I saw his twin, just to see if he would cop to his lie.

“Fucking Doppelganger. What sort of car what he driving?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Nothing enrages me more than a liar…except for when that liar thinks I’m not smart enough to unravel their crappily planned lies.

“Stalker Staus. We’ll talk soon”

Oh, I see. I was in LA when you were SUPPOSED to be up north. I caught you in a lie and I’m the crazy one. Ok, yeah. That makes sense.

Seriously, you think you are smarter than ME? Go back to Fresno, amature night.

A few days go by and I get some texts from a friend that wake me up. “Woody’s” got a girlfriend and it’s not you.”

God knows he wasn’t man enough to tell me this glorious news. I’m sure he thought he was playa enough to pull off juggling two girls. I told you I KNEW something was wrong.  I have a very STRONG hunch that the girl he’s with is the girl he told me not to worry about. I’m sure he lied about a ton of other things too, but you get the gist of it. I don’t have to date every single guy to know 99% of them are assholes. I just really wanted him to be contrary to all the other drones. I thought I’d finally found someone who’d broken the mold, but he was just a cheap knock off.  And, he was right, he really does know how to “treat women,” he just didn’t define exactly how he liked to” treat” them.

“Woody,” that post was not about you, but you can bet your life that this post, right here, this one, is alllll about you, boy. I didn’t want to have to write this post, but you practically begged me to. Enjoy your self-made celebrity. You are King Shit of Turd Mountain. You did a play-by-play of what the last guy did to me. You manipulated my feelings, got me attached to you, erased yourself from existence and gave me, yippie, a reason to write a blog about another turd blossom I’ve dated. How original. That’s somebody else’s bit, think up one of your own, you HACK!

I’ll let the Queen of my heart, Mr. Mercury, express my feelings in song.

I’ve Gotta Be Me

2 Nov

So…apparently my last post really resonated because I got a LOT of private messages from people who read it and the feedback ran the gamete in extremes.

My Dad still thinks I have zero gaydar and everyone down here is gay. This coming from the man who watches ‘The Notebook’ every time it’s on TV. And let’s not even talk about his weird love affair with human giant, Julia Child. Yea, I’m calling you out Dad, that’s kind of gay.

Other people were super pissed that I had to have such an exhausting experience. Thank you for being mad for me? Yep, it was draining to deal with, but thank God I can see the ridiculousness of it all. If I couldn’t, I’d be crazy by now. Like, Britney Spears shaving her head, baseball bat wielding, kook job.

I also got this sentiment from a few people, “Not all guys are idiots.” If I thought all guys were knuckle dragging morons, I would have given up years ago. I know there are nice, straight, guys out there and I know quite a few of them. My Grampa, my Dad (when he’s not cursing out an inanimate object that “got in his way.”) Smaptie’s Dad, John, Alan (Anyone who watches movies all day long for four days once every year with me is a prince!) and a few more, but you get the point. I don’t write about all the guys I date on here either, I’ve dated some nice guys that I didn’t want to write about because this isn’t a dating blog. It’s a blog about crap that pisses me off…and sometimes movies and cats.

I also heard, “You’re a such a catch.” First, thank you. Second, saying I’m awesome in response to me repeatedly failing in the dating world doesn’t make me feel better. It kind of makes me angry that the people I want to see that don’t and those that do, are married…or my Grandma, who HAS to say it.

And one person took it very much to heart and was hurt by it. No, it was not the moose knuckle I wrote about, it was an actual nice guy. I felt completely horrible about making someone feel bad, especially one that most certainly didn’t deserve it.

SYKE!!! This guy is a lying tool who thought he could get away with lying. Thanks for dicking me around, I so needed more of that in my life. What an utter waste of my time.

It made me feel so bad that I seriously thought about taking the post down completely, which I have NEVER done for anyone, ever. And that thought made someone else totally infuriated, Roger.

I’m sorry that post ruffled someone’s feathers that weren’t meant to be ruffled. But, the post wasn’t about them or for them, it was for me and about how I felt after someone treated me like dumpola.  Since the human skidmark it was about wouldn’t let me have an adult conversation with him after standing me up THREE TIMES (penis wrinkle!) I had to let my thoughts out somewhere and what better place to let MY thoughts be known than on MY blog. In the words of Sammy Davis Jr., “I can’t be right for somebody else, if I’m not right for me.

Here I Go Again

31 Oct

I’m in my rage period.

So…I started dating someone. Hey, I was fine in my self-induced Fortress of Solitude, slowly making my way towards Cat Ladydom.  This wasn’t something I planned on, I was pretty surprised an attractive, straight, guy could like me because….I’m a dork. I’m the freakin’ real life Liz Lemon. Aside from my nerdiness, everything was going great. Until he stood me up.

I’ve had guys do a lot of crappy things *cough* dump me on my graduation day*cough*, but I’ve NEVER been stood up. Honestly, being stood up is such an epic waste of time. I mean damn, I buffed my skin, shaved, curled my hair, my make up was impeccable. I could have stayed all gross, in my sweat pants and watched a million hours of crap on Netflix and my time would have been much better spent!! Instead I looked super hot as I waited on my couch for the dinner that was never to be.

When this perfect example of “men” my age finally reached up inside himself, felt around, and found his pitiful excuse for balls and talked to me, he gave me a doozy of an excuse. (By talk I mean text. God forbid a guy CALL a girl. They’d rather have me try to crack the encryption of their tone like I’m freakin’ Indiana Jones.) This is what he said, I can’t make this shit up, “I really like you, but I got attached too fast, so I’m a dick.”

Now, I’m no mathematician, so let me get this straight. Fun+Nice+Really Like=DUMP? If I follow this equation, I need to be more of bitch to keep a guy. You like someone a lot, so you leave?  I’ve never had so many positives turn into negative. It reminded me of an SNL sketch about throwing stuff you like on the ground. It really makes no sense.

I know what you’re thinking, it’s time to tase some buttholes.

Then he says, “I’m not ready for a relationship. I don’t want to get hurt.”

Do you think the manly men who blew the brains out of dirty, stinking, Nazis 70 years ago would have fathomed that they would begat grandsons who are such gigantic pussies? I can’t handle all this emotional BULLSHIT. Last time I checked, I looked down and got an eyeful of tit. Meaning, I’m the girl, knock this whining crap off.  I’m tired of being the Alpha Male. Why does your fear of getting hurt trump mine? And who goes into a relationship expecting to get stomped all over? I date asshole after asshole, I get hurt every time. But I still keep trying.

Men: STOP being pussies. And if things are going good…SHUT UP and KEEP GOING.


20 Jul

“Helga, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the dirt.”- Joan Crawford

So…I am well aware that I have a freakin’ weird way of looking at things but hopefully the story I’m about to elaborate on will help you not make the same, disgusting, mistake and embarrass yourself in front of super judgmental people, such as myself.

I went to the gym to burn off some angry energy but ended up getting leaving even more pissed off. Normally on a Friday night I’m the only one on the row of treadmills but that night, with 15 empty machines around, this bitch decides to run on the one RIGHT NEXT to me. Not only is my new running partner super thin, but she’s wearing the world’s tiniest work out shorts.

Which leads me to the first thing that pisses me off; girls that wear super tiny work out shorts. It’s not because deep down I’m jealous that I can’t wear them because I actually eat one meal a day (and keep it down.) I do wear them, how they should be worn, as underwear. I’m mad because I know these girls aren’t wearing any panties when they have those on, so when they sit down on the machines all their lady juices are just left behind when they’re done.

Gross, right?

You’re God damn right its gross! Something I have learned having had guy roommates and girl roommates is that girls are a million times more disgusting than guys. I could write an entire blog on that topic and you would think most girls were raised in a third world country that never knew what soap was.

If you see this girl, she probably smells like butt sweat.

Back to the gym. As this girl runs, she starts to sweat. Did she bring a towel with her? Hell no, why would anyone follow the rules. Her “shorts” also kept getting eaten by her butt so she was doing this butt picking/brow wiping pattern every few steps. Obviously, I couldn’t help but notice this. Did she not realize she was wiping her butt sweat all over her face? At this point I was openly staring with disgust, but she kept on going, flicking her pony tail back and forth in that annoying Jan Brady way as she ran.

I couldn’t handle that bio-hazard anymore and went to get yoked. As I was lifting weights I glanced over into the sauna and saw a man with chunky, hairy, man titties making out/fondling his equally bodacious girlfriend.

THAT’S IT! I couldn’t take it anymore. (And you’re welcome for sparing you that soft-core photo of those fat bodies. I’m sure that image will flash in my mind before I die…something else to look forward to.) I got out of there and came home to scrub everyone else’s ooze off of me.

Am I trying to get to something or am I just working on an ulcer? I do have a point; when you least expect it, in your grossest moment, you are being watched. So remember that and hopefully someone won’t go home and write a blog about how five-year olds who eat their boogers are cleaner than you, you sick freak.

I Like New York in June…

2 Jun


So…I didn’t think I was going to make it to NYC but long story short, I did. I’m traveling with my friend Kim and staying with her uncle in Manhattan  I’ll go into more details when I get home but so far in one day I’ve been all over Central Park, Top of the Rock, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a big ass street fair on 6th Ave., Columbus Circle, and (cover your ears Mom) a bunch of bars last night.
The men out here are million times more aggressive, which I love, but the young ones are still stupid. Example:
Dummy: You’ve got the best dirty blonde hair, it looks almost natural.
I just stare at him.
Dummy: I smoke a lot of weed.
I shot Kim’s uncle a look and he got the guy to leave.
Tonight we’re hitting Lombardi’s and Time Square. Tomorrow: my first brunch ever, TR’s house, the Met. Monday: maybe living out my Tootsie fantasies at the Russian Tea Room and Colin Quinn at the Comedy Cellar. Tuesday: Yankee game.
I don’t have a lot set in stone, I just want to have a bunch of experiences. Yes Heather, I know how gay that sounds, but you can go screw yourself!