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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.


Haters Gonna Hate

12 Jun

Hater gonna hate, guuurrrrl.

So…I haven’t been writing about any weird dates lately because I’ve been dating a nice guy for over a year now. Everything is great, but when I tell people about him, they think it’s ok to voice their absurd opinions about it. I understand that may seem normal, most people’s  friends dole out all kinds of unsolicited inputs about their friends’ boy/girlfriends. But, those musings aren’t that of an Indiana Jones super villain… typically.


The guy I’m dating is of the Jewish persuasion. I didn’t really think people hated on Jews anymore. I mean, this isn’t 1930s Germany (these events happened before Russian decided to time travel their crazy balls thinking back to WWII.) Well, I was way wrong. There’s a woman at the school I went to who was very religious and I didn’t mind having little theological discussions with her, I mean I was there 9 hours a day, I had to pass the time some how! One day she told me that she wasn’t prejudiced against anyone… “except the Jews! They killed Jesus and all they care about is money.” WHOA!  Holy shit, right?


I told her that I thought Jesus’ job was to die…like, that was  his reason for being, so why get mad about him successfully completing his job, regardless of who helped him accomplish it ? Didn’t matter. She would say “Jews” and then hiss like a vampire seeing the sun. WTF, right? How do I meet these people?  I got to listen to a few months worth of this from her. I get it, she’s old…old people don’t give a shit about what’s politically or logically correct.

how bout no

Then I met younger people who, as soon as they found out I was dating a Jewish guy, verbally barfed up their ignorant ass views. During these incidents, I wasn’t the only one around, other people my age were present and NO ONE ELSE thought, “hmm, that was, I don’t know….inappropriate!”

hile myself

After experiencing this more times than I thought I ever would in my life, I figured I must secretly be in a Mel Brooks movie because this has to be a joke. I was just waiting for someone to burst out into a flamboyant song and dance number. Surely, people aren’t actually like this! Had Indiana Jones taught people nothing? If you hate Jews, this will happen to you…every time:


Am I trying to say that only Christians are simple-minded, bigots? Nope.  I’ve been ignored by my Jewish side of the family for being Gentile. I met the majority of the Goldberg side of my family while watching my grandfather die of cancer in the ER….treasured family memories! I’ve been hated by ex-boyfriend’s mothers for not being “Christian enough.” Just like Jesus would want, right?

hate rita

I enjoy hating as much as the next person, actually probably more…it just feels so good. But hating is an art form, don’t be lazy about it. Hate someone for something really personal, something that, if you told them why you hated them, would probably send them into years of therapy. That’s the kind of hating I love, it’s much more fulfilling. Hate someone for being dismissive, rude, arrogant or just for being a gigantic asshole to you.  Don’t hate someone for their religion, you unimaginative, mundane, pedestrian, hack!


I’m Going Slightly Mad

29 May

adult1 adult2

So…for the past year I’ve been learning a trade so I can write more and smell like pizza and kid farts less. At this “institution”…which it totally felt like that to me when my time was coming to an end….I got a greater realization that 18-22 yr olds are not adults. I know society thinks they are, but this is not 1943, none of them are running farms or going off to war…they can barely wipe their asses.

crazy mo fo

While being surrounded by these people for 45 hrs a week, I started to think I lost my ability to be funny. Maybe I was exhausted from all the school plus work? Yes… but no, that wasn’t it. Then I thought I must be going crazy instead because I didn’t/couldn’t believe that people like this actually existed and had not gotten themselves killed yet.  I already told you there is a person I have met, in real life, that can NOT read a clock. So, clearly, I’m not insane because that  person shouldn’t exist.


There are people don’t know who American treasure, Tom Hanks, is. I have met people who have never seen Hocus Pocus or Back to the Future.  Do people hate their children? Does no one watch TV, because BTTF (as the cool kids call it) is almost always on TNT every weekend? God damn it! What else could be on TV that is better than some young, fine, Calvin Klein MJ Fox? Come on! Also this generation thinks Anne Bancroft is “thick.” If that is true, I must be an elephant in their stupid, young, eyes.


I also think there is a major problem with the way girls and guys speak to each other in their early twenties. There was a girl in class telling me about this guy that she started dating, maybe a week prior to this conversation. She was already talking about marrying him, he got a tattoo of her on his back…oh yeah, this is real life. She said he was so nice to her and she had me read one of his texts where he said he was glad they “smashed guts” last night.


………………..”Smashing guts” is what guys are calling sex now. I’ll let you think about that for a minute.


I’ll say what everyone is thinking, we need a draft. These assholes need to go. Soon.


*Yes, they broke up after 3 weeks. Thank God he’s got that tattoo, right?

fuck nuts

Roger teaches English at this “institution.” He informed me that his students had no idea there were beaches in Orange County. (Yes, they were all raised here.) And one person wrote in an essay, which was turned in for a GRADE, stating that MLK Jr. freed the slaves.  These numb nuts have phones, which they are on CONSTANTLY which can access GOOGLE and look up who freed the slaves. Instead they literally pull shit out of their asses and smear it across a paper and expect an A. Psychos.

selfie And lastly, the amount of selfies I witnessed on a daily basis was staggering. If you watch someone take a selfie, they look like an insane person. Why are you suddenly happy? Duck lips aren’t sexy, it looks like you’re making an “oops, I farted” face. And maybe you did.  I can’t comprehend why these girls think they look so great that they need to document how they look EVERY DAY. Especially when we wear uniforms and look the same EVERYDAY!


So, basically, I thought I was going slightly mad, but in reality, I’m just mad.


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.

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.

Eye Roll

8 May

But please, you go ahead and continue being rude to my face.

So…I must look like a priest because every day is like confessional. I don’t know why random strangers EVERYWHERE come up to me and tell me crap they really shouldn’t be saying out loud, or at the very least, not to a complete stranger. Especially when that stranger has a great memory and a blog!

99% of the time when I get tables from the East Coast they are from Long Island, but this time I got a table from New Jersey. They asked me where I was from, “California.” “No way. You have a weird accent. Where are you from originally,” they said. They are not the first people to comment on my “weird accent.” Uncouth people point it out all the time. In a culture that is disgustingly too PC, it always cracks me up when people feel like they can point out a difference in someone. Normally, I ask people where they think I’m from.

Here are some of the places I sound like I’m from:

Boston: I have a friend for Boston who confirms that I say Mom, candy and car like I’m from Boston.

New York: I have no clue how anyone could think this.

Atlanta &  Texas: I have a twang sometimes, I can see this.

Seattle: They have accents?!

England: No.

The table from New  Jersey thought I was from somewhere in New York. This should have been my first clue number to them being totally nuts. I told them that I’m from the middle of California and I might have a…unique dialect because I grew up around a Scottish granny and a bunch of old Okies.

“What’s an Okie,” they asked. Right here is where I gave them too much credit. I thought that no one who’s gone through the public school system in America could NOT know about the Dust Bowl.

“You know, the Dust Bowl,” I said.

And that’s when I had to explain the Dust Bowl to a table of adults.

Why are they admitting they don’t know?!?!  I didn’t need to know how truly dumb they were. They could have kept that a secret! Nope, it was confessional time. They were dummies.

I referenced Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath because he lived with the Okies in Bakersfield. (I know you want to know where Mom, out by Pumpkin Center.) My English teacher went to school with kids who lived in the same camp as him, a neat fact that was lost on these morons. Still, they had no clue. I swear to God, this country’s finished.

“Huh,” was their response to my history lesson.

“Yea, it was kind of a big deal in the 1930s. Have a great vacation,” I said.

Then I turned, walked away and rolled my eyes so hard they fell out of my head.

Am I on Candid Camera?

4 Nov
Not honey, not sweetie, not tootsie, it’s Dorothy, D-O-R-O-T-H-Y, Dorothy.
So…I was watching Tina Fey on Letterman tonight and she put up a photo of what she was for Halloween. Tootsie. Really, Tina?
It is a joke between some of my friends that I am the embodiment of Liz Lemon. It’s not something I’m proud of because as Tina Fey said herself, “Liz Lemon is a more pathetic version of myself.” Ouch. But the truth is supposed to hurt.
Liz Lemon=Moi
  • Dated gay men
  • Therefore has no gaydar
  • Hates people that break rules
  • Loves hot dogs
  • Mistaken for a lesbian
  • Can not be sexy
  • Had horrible boyfriends
  • Talks to food about her problems
  • Star Wars Nerd
  • Been a beard
  • Loves Show tunes
  • Has a foot secret
  • Loves UNO
  • People think she’s racist
  • Judges with facial expressions
  • Tries to be nice
  • Endanger of being an old spinster
  • Would rather have men buy her food, than drinks
  • Stays up all night writing
  • Uncomfortable with sexual stuff (Yep, not a skank.)
  • Loves ham
  • Horrible dancers
  • Has great relationship with TV
I could keep going for a while more, but you get the point.
But the Tootsie thing is the LIMIT! No one loves Tootsie more than me…NO ONE!! You need to stop with the hidden cameras (unless Stacey and Clinton are going to pop out, then that’s OK) Tina, no more stealing my life. I need to capitalize on it first, damn it!