Sick of Creeps!!

I’m optimistic about my resolution to be a kinder gentler me.  It’s Monday and I’m actually greeting co-workers, smiling.  I’m feeling good, just chugged a Lo-Carb Monster and I am actually experiencing an emotion rarely felt at work, something resembling happiness???

My first interaction of the day is waiting for me in the lobby.  I’m practically bouncing out to greet him.

Initial response:  Gross. He’s abnormally small and overall sticky looking.  So I tell that inner evil snob to shut the hell up and be nice.  I’m really trying here.  

Blahblahblah I’m talking, doing my job. I ask him a question and the guy just stares at me.  I’m thinking, maybe he’s just thinking really hard, like maybe he’s slow or something.

He does not break eye contact.  He doesn’t even blink.  1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds, FOUR SECONDS, FIVE SECONDS, I just know he’s staring deep into my eyes imagining what I looked like as a 7 year old in She-Ra underroos.   I am so creeped out, I’m trying to control myself from shuddering or completely flipping out and calling the police.  But I’m in the middle of turning over a new leaf here so I convince myself that I just have a wild imagination and that he is not a pedophile and it isn’t his fault he has a cluster of brown skin tags on his neck fat folds.  And even though it is his fault that he hasn’t bothered to clean the black bacon grease from underneath his fingernails, I will not make my notorious expression of disgust.  After staring into my soul for the most uncomfortable 10 seconds of my entire life, he finally responds and I convince myself that I will make it through this.  He’s just a little different, maybe he has some mental impairment and there’s nothing he can do about that!  What kind of evil bitch would I be if I were to judge him and he has a disability acquired in the war.  No, no, no, he doesn’t sit at home all day polishing the shackles in his rape dungeon!

I’m going to make it.  

UNTIL he introduces me to an involuntary habit of wriggling his slimy tongue outside the side of his mouth.  And why does it look square shaped???  AND WHY WON’T HE STOP DOING IT.  I’m being molested by his tongue.  And now, I’m going to dry heave.  I’m going gag in front of this disabled war veteran.  

I want to cry.  I really just want to cry and run away.  I can’t take this.  Everything in my genetic code is telling me to gather up all of my DNA and escape. 

After blacking out and waking up curled in the fetal position under my desk, I realize it is over, and I think, I AM SO SICK OF CREEPS.

Knock it Off Marvel!

So off to a beautiful wedding at the beach.  A nice weekend get away from the daily grind, spending my hours getting my glow on and refraining from focusing my eyes (or mind) on anything in particular.  BUT, I first had to face the dreaded forced social situation otherwise known as THE RECEPTION.

Despite the rumors the beloved Fran Fine might spread, I am a socially awkward nightmare.  To me, a wedding reception is basically like being stuck in an elevator with about 10 psoriasis infected people.  And while everyone else is calmly throwing back shots of Yager and gracefully moving from crowd to crowd, I'm drinking my way into a multiple personality.

And so Evil Ms. Marvel elbows her way out of the recesses of my mind.  She makes her subtle entry by blurting comments out of context.  For example, while sitting in the back seat with a wedding gift bag that shed glitter everywhere.  Evil Ms. Marvel makes an attempt at humor, "It looks like Tinkerbell died back here."  The passenger gasps, "WHO'S DEAD???  WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BACK SEAT???"

Now I am forced to explain that I'm talking about Tinkerbell as in the animated pixie.  And yes I am a grown woman without children that regularly references animated characters.  So I force myself into silence and play with a really cool twisty tie I find in the back seat.

In addition to making strange comments, Ms. Marvel proves to be somewhat of a bitch.  She has no problem "Shunning" friendly strangers by shutting the conversation down right where it begins.  

Ex.

Nice Not Interested in Me Sexually Guy:  Oh yeah I think we've met before!

Me:  No we haven't. 

Why can’t she just calm down and be nice??   Would it kill her to fake a smile??  Why does she have a default face of disgust???                                                                                                   

Me saying, "So nice to meet you!"

And why couldn’t she have said something more clever like, “It looks like Tinkerbell was cremated in your back seat”??  So I’m turning over a new leaf.  I'm going to grab Evil Ms. Marvel by the hair, slap some masking tape over her mouth and I’m going to be nicer, politer, and funnier.  And one day I (and I alone) will twirl into a packed room and engage everyone I meet with friendly chatter without the desire to fake an IBS attack.   

I am sick of holding my purse while I pee!

Ok what is going on?

Is there some sort of hook shortage happening these days? 

I don't know if anyone else has noticed this, but lately, I cannot go into any public restroom and hang my purse on the back of the damn door! It appears that every hook in every public restroom in the state of California (at least southern cali) has been removed. Is there a hook thief on the loose? Was there a discovery of great value in bathroom stall purse hooks?

I am boggled by the sudden disappearance of these handy little hooks. I can think of no good reason for them to have been removed. Now when I have to pee in a public restroom (which, I never look forward to anyway) I not only have to squat and strain my thighs while hovering over the toilet for fear of contracting some deadly disease or impregnating myself by whatever the fuck is splattered all over that god forsaken seat, I also have to wear my purse around my neck like a god damn 10 pound necklace because there are no hooks to hang it on! Is this emptying my bladder or a fucking carnival act?

"COME SEE THE AMAZING PURSE-BALANCING PEEING WOMAN!"

This is a recent phenomenon because I never used to come across this problem. I noticed it happening here and there only over the past year or so but now, every single stall I go in, there is no hook to be found! You'd think that higher-end, nicer, newer restaurants and bars would supply us with a hook...

 no such luck! Only the old screw holes and rust-ridden outline of where a hook once hung remain in every single public stall.

And don't even think about having more than just a purse with you when nature calls in public. Take it from me, wearing your sweater as a cape, your camera as a necklace, and clenching your clutch with your teeth all while basically doing squats in a stall the size of a washing machine, trying desperately to not  even graze the walls of it in your less than sober state just to piss out that beer or two you downed is no easy task!

I don't know who we ladies have to talk to to get our hooks back, but christ almighty, let's figure it out!

I am sick of it!

POOF! I'm a lesbian!

This past Tuesday, my friend and I went to see Lykke Li in concert at the Wiltern. Just what we needed to sing and dance and clap and cry to. Good times!

I admit, before this year, I hadn't heard of her. My friend made me a cd of her stuff and I was hooked. 

Her music is awesome and after seeing her live, well, I'm in love. 

She is sexy, pretty, talented, unique and free-spirited. And I'm sure she's funny. 

What more could anyone want? 

We had a gay ol' time and now we are a little bit in love in with her...

(hit play)

Do's and Don'ts (part one)

Summer is upon us, here's what's up:

Do get your tan on. No one looks good pasty. Plus, you automatically look about 3-6 pounds thinner when you're skin is a few shades darker.

Do incorporate see-thru tops into your summer night attire and do wear cute bras under them. This is a sexy but not slutty look that will get you noticed. But don't go braless. That is slutty.

Do paint your toe and finger nails with some sort of Studio 54, disco ball glitter polish.

Don't be lazy and put off shaving your legs and nether regions. It's summer. A pool or hot tub party could spring up at any given moment. Be prepared.

Do listen to reggae. 

Do buy tickets to at least one outdoor summer concert. If you live in LA, definitely see a show at the Bowl or The Greek. 

Don't chop your hair off because the weather's gettin' warm and your long hair is making you too hot. You'll instantly regret it and buns are totally in. 

Don't starve yourself just cuz you want to look skinny in that swimsuit or because you don't want your muffin top or back fat hanging out of that bikini... ok, maybe you should starve yourself. A little.

Do wear long, earthmother dresses. Especially if you haven't achieved your maximum leg tan yet. They always look sexy, they can easily be dressed up or down depending on the occasion, and they're pretty much everywhere you go. Get one. 

Do drink festive, fruity drinks. Mango Margaritas, Pina Coladas, Mint Mojitos. They're the perfect compliment to a sunny summer day.

Don't get sick. Whatever you have to do to avoid getting sick, do it! Being sick on perfect summer days while the rest of the world is out by the pool or beating the heat at the beach totally SUCKS! 

Do go out to eat/drink at cute little outdoor cafes and restaurants. Aroma in Studio City or Home in Los Feliz are two of my personal faves. 

Do buy one of those vintage looking bathing suits. They're so cute and the right ones make you look curvy in all the right places and cover that buddha belly.

Don't worry if you don't have a dude. It's way more comfortable hangin' in bathing suits with your gal pals anyway. Summer is all about flings, so fuck it! Slip on that see-thru top, throw back a couple margaritas, make sure you shaved, and go find yourself a summer fling!

yay!

I'm good. I'm gone.

What is up with guys these days? and when I say "these days" I mean since the beginning of time.

Over the past several months, I had been "seeing" this guy (I put that in quotations because I think you have to actually see the person in order to call it "seeing someone", right?) anyway,

let's flash back a little...

several months back, Dude started contacting me. He seemed like a cool guy, bandmate of a friend, cute enough, funny, artistic, and hell, he was into me so that's a major plus! I was getting texts on a daily basis, even when he was playing shows at SXSW in Texas! He wanted me to come over almost every night, he came up with cute ideas like baking brownies together and going hiking. He'd slow dance with me in his dining room with no music playing, brought up taking me to Disneyland (my weakness) and even said things like "You're fun, I enjoy spending time with you, and I havent met someone I enjoy spending time with like that in a long, long time." ...yea I remember that verbatim because I was like, SWOON!

It was all so awesome. I felt so happy and alive. I loved his friends, my friends loved him, he loved them. I found myself missing him when we were apart, and I even got an "I miss you" from him. My personal telltale to whether or not I really like a guy is if I find myself staring at him, especially when he's asleep. No, not in a creepy, Single White Female kind of way. More like an 'awww he's so fucking cute, my heart is skipping beats' kind of way. Anyway, I totally liked him. You know that feeling when you just start spending time with someone and you're both having so much fun and you just want to freeze those moments and live there forever? It was like that for the first month or so. AWESOME!

And let's just clarify this now. It definitely was not just a booty call. This much I know.

Anyway, it all seemed great, wonderful, birds, hearts, rainbows... WOOPS!

Just around the one month mark, the texts stopped, the invites ended, and well the sex... um, let's just say, I was left very confused. It all happened literally overnight.

Of course, when something like this happens, it is natural to step back and think to yourself, 'what the fuck did I do? what'd I say? Did I miss a stray hair somewhere or fucking fart in my sleep?? '. I drove myself crazy wondering what I did, coming up with theories, asking my poor friends for their advice and opinions and even shedding several tears over the thought of it all being over and 

me having no idea why.

But then, we'd get together and POOF! All was fine again. He'd hold my hand, cuddle, kiss me, snuggle, just like month 1. This bipolar, good one day, bad the next week behavior became more regular than not and I was not too keen on the new "us". However, I decided to play the part of the cool girl who wasn't bothered by the fact that she probably wouldn't hear from you for several days or more after she walked out your door. But let's be honest, how long could that go on?

Of course I was starting to believe the probability of the fact that he was 'just not that into me' and I should just get the hint, but my friends (and his- mutual) seemed pretty convinced that he was, but that he was just scared and had his own personal emotional issues. Since this was what I wanted to believe, I continued to put in effort, despite his pretty shitty shut downs. ie:

me: hey I found out I'm off early tonight... come over and I'll make dinner.

him: that sounds nice but I have to work at 7am tomorrow 

and driving from my place to yours and back sounds stressful.

OUCH! 

You'd think Id throw in the towel then, but no.

I waited a good week, he left town, I heard not a word, he came back, I shot him a Facebook comment (harmless) we had a good comment sesh, IM chats, and even got some texting in! Progress! 

Ok, now back to current day...

So, this past Saturday, after much frustration and 'what the fuck is going on-ing', trying to Angela Lansbury the situation and failing at solving the mystery, I gave in. You could also say I hit my wit's end and started to get really fucking pissed off at the one day you like me, one day you don't bullshit!

I was sick (yes, caught it from him and no, he couldnt even be bothered to send a "how are you feeling?" text my way, even though when he was sick, I went out of my way to surprise him with a care package of OJ, Epsom salt, ice cream and other goodies) and in my nose blowing, blood boiling rage, I texted his ass that we needed to get together.

Of  course he responded with "is something up? now im worried" to which I could only think 

is he slightly retarded?? Put down the joint, dude!

We agreed to meet up and at 3pm, I went over to his place and started to calmly explain my confusion and frustration (and mind you, this was only a few days after our FB comment, IM-ing, and texting spree, spending a great night together, watching movies, HIM trying to hold my hand and kiss me and hug me and giving me amazing massages and having good sex. HIM slow dancing with me in the dark to no music and saying adorable things to me, and offering to get breakfast in the morning, making me think we were okay after all and maybe our friends were right). 

His response basically began with the typical "I can't be a boyfriend right now" load of crap accompanied by an 'I think there are some things we don't see eye to eye on but don't see the benefit in disclosing what those things are because it's not like I want you to change anything about yourself'. Also a lovely spiel about how it's not like he can just say he's 'not into me' but there are things he's compromised in his past relationships that ended up being problematic later in the relationship and that there are some things he knows need to be there to make a relationship work that he's just not sure are there, but again, won't tell me what these things are.

When I asked why he bothered taking me out and why he acted so sweet and all recently, he said he thought he explained all of this to me several weeks ago when we attempted a talk. Uh, no dude. We tried to talk but ended with "soooo?? what are we doing then??" followed by no answer, rolling over, cuddling, kissing good night and sleeping in each other's arms. Nice try, though.

Meanwhile, he tells me we are great as friends, I'm fun, I'm hot, I'm smart, and he can't help but be attracted to me... soooooooooo this isn't going to work??

Now, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I was always under the impression that meeting someone smart, getting on great as friends, having fun together, and being attracted to them are sort of the things you look for in a partner and the foundation of a great relationship. No? Hmmmm...

He also had the NERVE to say he felt smothered by me! This was the point in the conversation where I went from calmly taking this all in, to OH NO HE DI'INT bitch mode!

Understand that after things started to go sour a month in, I'd go several days, even a week here and there without talking to him or trying to talk to him or seeing him. I made deliberate efforts to not be clingy or needy and to give him space. I would maybe throw an invite his way like "hey we're all going out tonight. You should come" every so often.  I guess that was too much. Im sorry I liked you and wanted to spend time with you every now and then. My bad. All I can say to you now, Dude, is good luck finding a girl who's cool with talking to you LESS than I did! 

After that bit, I was pretty much donezo with this dude but he went on to say "I might not be working tonight.. I'm scheduled but I might not have to work"... okay? He explained he thought it seemed like maybe there was more to be said. I explained there wasn't. I think I got it. I'm good. Good bye.

In conclusion, apparently, if you are smart and hot and funny and cool and you make a great friend, it just isnt enough. Those old stories of 'dating your best friend' and falling in love, throw them to the wind. When the going get's good, get gone. Well, that is if you're an emotionally unavailable 32 year-old selfish stoner with no concept of common decency or respect for the other person. 

Good move home dude. 

I'll talk to you in 3 months when you regret it and try to contact me again. xoxo

I am sick of being sick!

So a couple of days ago, I woke up feeling like shit. My eyes were heavy and swollen and sinking into the back of my head. My throat was itching, my nose was dripping. Not a pretty picture. I thought at first, it must be allergies, so I dropped a pay check on allergy meds but when those didnt help and I only felt worse as the day went on, I knew I was alas, sick.
Normally, I might not mind so much as I could use being sick as an excuse to take a couple days off work and spend all my time in bed watching movies. But this time, I have friday and saturday off (it's not often I get a "weekend") and the weather is so awesome! It finally feels like summer time out there and I have to spend my treasured days off in bed feeling like shit, blowing my nose, coughing up phlegm, looking like a troll?! I want to be out hiking, or laying by a pool, or shopping, or throwing a pre-memorial day party or something! but no.
Im tempted to say "Fuck you, sickness!" and try to make myself look presentable enough to go out in public and take advantage of these perfect days off anyway, but I can't pretend like my body isnt aching and my eyes arent burning and my nose isnt a fountain of snot.
I dont even know a good remedy to get better fast, and it's not like I have anyone to cater to my needs and bring me soup or draw me a bath. (pity party much?)
whatever, bottom line is, i am sick of being sick!

I'm sick of SLOBS!!!

OK WTH???  WHAT THE HELL???  All I want to do is peacefully make my morning trip to the ladies room.  I just want to go handle my business so I can go back to convincing myself not to choke myself out at my desk.  Only to open the stall to find a URINE spattered toilet seat and a bowl of piss and used toilet paper.

Seriously??  How does this even happen???  You're a woman, it's not like you have to aim.  Is pee squirting out the side of your leg?  Oh no, it's just dripping from your oversized vagine that you didn't completely wipe dry.  Fantastic.  I mean, are you so busy you can't even be bothered to flush??  Let alone taking that extra millisecond to wipe down your piss droplets.  Clearly you do not have any regard for the next person who is forced to deal with this.  But don't you have a little shame???  Like, I SAW YOUR DISGUSTING ASS LEAVE THE STALL.  I know who you are!  I know YOU are so lazy you cannot even be bothered to WIPE YOUR OWN ASS.

What if that was your friend???  What if you just went to a dinner party at her house??

I don't even like BREATHING in public restrooms.  The mere thought of strangers and their excretions disgusts me.  It takes a great deal of mental stamina to give in to my physical needs.  And then this.  THIS!  I am now FORCED to change my internal clock to coordinate with Reuben the opera singing cleaning man's work schedule.

It's a sad world we live in when next to the "Please Wash Your Hands" sign we have to post a "Please Wipe Down the Toilet After You Flush It" sign.  And in the LADIES ROOM FOR HEAVENS SAKE!



  

I am so sick of my stupid job

Day after day after day, I wake up and spend several hours doing what, to most spectators, would appear to be absolutely nothing.  I lay in bed, do stuff on my laptop, watch TV, and eat. What I'm actually doing is physically and mentally prepping myself for the workday that lies ahead. No, I'm not in construction or the medical field but believe me, it is no easy feat dealing with the total twats I encounter all through my shift. So I spend my morning and early day uneasily watching the clock until the dreaded 2 O'clock hour rolls around. This is when I have to, against all my will, stop doing nothing and get ready for work.

It is amazing how I will be in a dandy mood all day, listening to my music, smiling, feeling pretty damn good, until the MOMENT I step foot in my hell- I mean workplace. That instant, that smile turns into a snarl, that good feeling washes away, and all I can think is, "I have to do something with my life".
I bitterly put on my name tag and clock in. I unenthusiastically walk over to my register and begin to pretend that I give a shit about the person on the other side's day, which I won't lie, I don't even really pretend I do. I robotically repeat  "Hi. How are you? Have a good one." when really Im thinking "Hi. I don't care. Get out of my face".

On occasion, I get a nice customer who I don't wish paralyzation or death upon, and they drag a smile or a laugh out of me. But for the most part, it is nothing but indecent, incapable, hideous, disgusting, disrespectful, rude,  incompetent excuses for human beings.  They treat us like we're hollow humans who don't deserve an ounce of respect or dignity simply because we are on the other side of the cash register. They walk in the store and without even turning their heads they ask, "where is (insert desired item here)?" to which i have to think, Jesus, did you even TRY??
I have to play guessing games, trying to decode their spanglish or armenienglish. "you have eet taco brrrread eeen chhhere? I get llast veeeek". WHAT?!
I have to teach them how to swipe their black credit cards or manually enter their probably counterfeited food stamp cards so that I can watch them undeservingly purchase the finer things in life and then "happily" help them to their BMWs.
I have to clean up the trash they leave throughout the store like an Easter egg hunt and look happy when they spend the entire transaction speaking to their blutooth.
Then I get complained about for things like "she told me this was an express lane" or "she didn't ask me how my day was" by these people who obviously have nothing better going on in their pointless lives and then get lectured about "being better" by one of my 20 bosses because they never stick up for us to these already self-righteous assholes. Again, I'm supposed to listen to them and admit to being in the wrong or apologize for my "ill behavior" because we are there to "win the customer over". Truthfully, I could give a fuck about them, they probably deserved the treatment I gave them, I'm not sorry, and I'm actually secretly flipping you off in my mind as well.

And it isn't just the customer aspect of the job that drives me to depression. It's more the fact that  I am not doing something better with my life. I'm always embarrassed to say where I work and what I do. I'm nearly 30, and this is all I have to show for it? I know that I'm talented. I know that I have the creative abilities to do better and do something I can say Im proud to do. Im so sick of wasting away at this mindless, stupid job while I see people my age or younger doing what I dream to do and loving their lives.
I suppose the fault is only my own. I need to stop bitching about it and do something already. But it's not that easy. Money, health insurance, security. Those are all unfortunate factors that stand in the way of leaping into my own business.
So I guess until I get the guts to make the break and take the plunge, I will continue to hate my job, dream of ways to get out, think evil thoughts about the trolls I deal with, and dread the 2 o'clock hour.
which is sadly approaching now...

No habla ingles???

I woke up this fine morning to see that the world had in fact not come to an end.  Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and my obese black cat has been shitting.

No, no, not in the LITTER BOX.  Not in the litter box that I religiously slave over while fumes of ammonia threaten to blind me.  No, rather randomly, in the dining room on his favorite piece of carpet.

If he were to just be able to speak English, I feel like I could reason with him.  "Look Cat, if it weren't for me you wouldn't have anything to shit.  You'd probably be decomposing on some street in Burbank at this very moment."

"You're right.  I just have such low self esteem these days.  I'm so over weight, I can barely lick my own ass anymore."

"Well thank you for sharing!  I had no idea this was a self esteem issue.  I'm so sorry.  I feel partially responsible.  It was like a kitty buffet around here for awhile."

"It was.  And I know my lack of control is my own fault.  But when you brought that younger, cuter kitten in, I just lost it.  Who am I if I'm not the dominant cat in this household?  So, I ate my feelings."

"But that doesn't justify the piles of stinking doo I find IN THE DINING ROOM.  Isn't it instinct to cover your waste?!?!?"

"I know, I know, I'm ashamed.  I'm in this self deprecating phase in my life..."

Sadly, I will never know if this is indeed how my obese cat feels.  Instead I must play this guessing game.  I've purchased another, larger litter box (as I said he's gotten hippier in his old age), I've been more diligent about scooping, I purchased pheromone spray and a pheromone collar to help relax him if this is due to anxiety, I've taken the poo from the floor (gag btw), allowed him to smell it, then placed it in the litter box.  Is he trying to humiliate me??!?!?!

I've had dreams about this fat cat suddenly turning to me and uttering a sentence.  At this point I'd be okay with him speaking Japanese.  JUST HELP ME OUT A LITTLE BIT!

Jesus is coming... look busy

alright, by now we've all heard the rumors that the world might be ending tomorrow or whatev...

Here are my bits of advice on how to live your last 24 hours on Earth:

1) make sure you're wearing something really really cute and sleep in it so that if you happen to be one of the chosen ones, the rest of us will have to remember you by that super cute outfit left behind.

2) go ahead and have a fat day. dont count those calories or watch your carbs. chow down! go get that In N Out burger and super size those fries! And then have ice cream after that! If the world ends tomorrow, who the hell cares about that extra inch around your waist?

3) tell someone you love them. anyone really. tell your mom, your dad, your dog, some hot guy or girl you just met who's name you don't even know. just freaking say it, ok?!

4) dance. dancing is always fun so throw your hands up in the air and shake what your mama gave you. Maybe you'll be so in the groove, you won't even notice the burning planet around you.

5) make out! just go grab someone, anyone (preferably someone super attractive- i mean it's your last kiss, make it good) and shove your tongue down their fucking throat! 

6) just do it. Whatever it is that you've been fighting back and forth with in your head- you know, that "should I? shouldn't I?" you've been dealing with? whether it's texting that guy, calling that girl, cutting your hair, buying those shoes, JUST DO IT! the world's ending, what have you got to lose?? 

7) come up with the best Facebook status you've ever come up with before and post it at 11:59pm.  People will remember how clever and funny and smart you were. Oh, and make sure your default pic is a really good one, too.  

8)  listen to really good music. You don't want shit to go down and have some stupid song you don't even like replaying over and over in your head. Give your rapture a good soundtrack for god's sake!

9) have sex. obviously, be careful. don't just go whore yourself out and sleep with anyone. there's still a chance the world might not end tomorrow so make sure theyre hot and wrap it up. but, do it, have sex. if the world does end, you may as well go out with a bang.

10) be with your friends tonight. Whatever you do end up doing, do it with your friends. 'nuff said.

So there you have it. Go out and make the most of what might be your last day on Earth.

just make sure you can say with confidence, "It's the end of the world as we know it, and i feel FINE!"

I am so sick of being misunderstood

Ok so I'm weird and I make faces and I talk shit about people. I am blunt and I burp louder than any member of the male species. I only wash my hair once a week and wear dirty clothes that I pulled out of my hamper. I have a mouth that would make a sailor cry and I have a dirtier mind than any perv I've ever met, but come on.  I'm a catch!

I have bangs, I am really funny, I look great in fake glasses, and I'm working on my tan and my bod so... 

And I mean, I only talk shit about people who deserve to be talked shit about. What's so wrong with that? 

But so often, I get looked over or blown off or just freaking misunderstood because of all of these things and ya know what? I am just so sick of it.

Look at all the crazy whacky women of the world:

Lisa Lampanelli, Alexi Wasser, Fran Drescher, Lucille Ball, my friend Connie Garcia, Chelsea Handler and characters like Natalie Portman's in Garden State. They are are hilarious and hell, Id date them.

Who wants to be with "normal, nice" girls? they're boring!

Id rather have a girl who tells raunchy jokes and has good hair cook me dinner than some goody-two-shoes who's idea of a cuss word is "crap" hold my hand.

Come on!

I mean who's really out there trying to snag a girl like Amy Adams or Taylor Swift??

And so what if I have a mean sense of humor and I think stereotype jokes are funny and I get grossed out by fat people and I laugh at lesser fortunate people in ridiculous outfits. I'm a good person. I would go to the ends of the Earth for the people I care about. I will show up at your door at 2am with Pepto if you mentioned you have a stomach ache. I will buy you that little knick knack for no other reason than it reminded me of you. I will send you pix of me and my dog when you're having a bad day. I will make you a sandwich.  I will remember your birthday without the help of Facebook. I will make you something really cool in pottery class. I will tell you you have a booger in your nose or food in your teeth or that you look really stupid in that outfit. That's what real friends do. I'm a great friend and a great girlfriend and I'm actually very thoughtful and selfless when it comes to people I like/love/care about. It's the rest of the world I could give two fucks and a middle finger about. Is that so bad?

I am fun and I want to go on a hike or a bike ride with you. I want to go run through the sprinklers and do cartwheels in the middle of the street with you. I want to have a BBQ and go dancing and karaoke-ing with you. I'm more than just a dinner and a movie girl. BORING! Let's paint each other's toes in a park and get dressed up in our old prom clothes and go pump gas. WHATEVER! I don't care! Cuz I'm freaking awesome.

I know this, my friends know this, why can't everyone just freaking figure it out?! Im so sick of it.

I think the world needs to just relax, lose weight, stop wearing clothes that obviously should be burned and learn how to take a freaking joke!  All of the times I've gotten misunderstood and/or written off as just a mean hateful bitch, I've gone through the whole 'stop and rethink yourself, maybe you are and you do need to change' bs and you know what? FUCK THAT! 

This is me.

I've been this way for 29 years and I aint changin' any time soon!

Nor do I want to! I like who I am, even if I am a bitch.

And maybe I'll always be misunderstood, but only by the types of people I don't care about anyway.

So to the rest of the uptight, boring-ass, goody-two-shoes, fat, ugly world, I am funny, you're not, and I'm sick of you!

words of wisdom

no, they are not my words per say, but they are words I say 

-Alexi Wasser

ASK ME FOR MY NUMBER

I am getting really sick of no one asking me for my bloody phone number, especially when i see you staring at me across a skate park or trader joes. Come on! I would so give it to you and also go out with you to dinner. You are so cute and I am so funny and we would make a great couple, or at least a great date. So next time, don't make me take this picture of you so I have an excuse to talk to you? And when i do, maybe then ask me for it? No? Still? Ok then ill write it down on a post it and give it to you... but I am not happy about it, call me cutie.

I am so sick of it "only happening in movies"

Well, we've all seen 'em and we've all heard it...

"that only happens in movies".

UGH!

Now let me start off by saying that I am a major chick flicker. I love them. GUILTY!

but why the hell can't things like that ever happen in real life??

For example, my friend and I had another stupid day at work and decided to get a couple of beers, make some food, and watch "Going The Distance" tonight after work. 

Justin Long is a total babe/sweetheart in it (hello, can I just marry him?! geezus) and Drew's character is fun, blunt, and spunky- basically the girl I think I am but am actually a long ways off from. Like Natalie Portman's character in Garden State. I still strive to be Sam...

Anyway, we both really enjoyed the movie, but as we always are at the end of a good rom com, we were left like, 'well I guess I'll go Youtube that sad/pretty song that played at the most romantic scene, replay it 15 times, and cry to it while facebook stalking in my bed...ALONE'. 

I mean, he surprises her at work with roses, and lights a path of candles for her to walk in the room to. and while ok, i get it, things like that only happen in movies, he does do other little things like, calls her on the phone. what?! Yes, he actually dials her number and hears her voice. I know, weird. And what's more? he does so on a regular basis! Like, he actually thinks of her on the daily. WOW!

 He asks her out to dinner which, I think I've heard of that happening before in real life... something about a "date"? I don't know, it rings a bell.

 He calls her "babe" and "baby", takes her to the airport, and talks about her to his friends.

Now, I know it's a movie and call me old fashioned, but I just don't think those things are too much to ask of a dude. Is that crazy of me? Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic or an unrealistic woman with a vivid imagination (I am a Pisces), but I still believe that somewhere out there in this great big old wide world there are men like that who actually exist. Or there's one. There has to be. And wether or not he will ever come my way is a gamble, but a girl can dream.

Im just so sick of meeting a guy who you are convinced just might be your "Harry Burns" or your "Noah", "Mark Darcy", or "Jack Dawson" and then they turn out to be nothing but a Jack Torrance or some asshole who's just not that into you.

I mean, sure, I'm crazy and weird and my hour glass silhouette is starting to look more like Sponge Bob every day, but I'm fun and funny, and I have bangs and talent! So why is it mission impossible to bag a nice boy who'd give his right hand for me?? I just want to be happy and have some hot guy with facial hair, fake glasses, a beanie, and some tattoos fall head over heals madly in love with me and want to talk to me daily, see me often, and surprise me every now and then! Is that so goddamn much to ask for?? For the love!

But alas, it only happens in movies and, let's face it, if some dream boat chick flick-type guy actually did walk into my life, he'd be an ugly as sin unemployed cat-loving vegetarian and I wouldnt be the slightest bit interested.

Welp, time to Youtube that song...

Seriously??

I don't even need to say anything else:

we are still sick of you,  Gaga

NEW GIRL!

Alright everyone, it is time for  a big announcement! Our good friend, Miss Mia Marvel is really sick of not being a part of our blog, and frankly, we're sick of it too.

So we're adding her on the band wagon.

She has a lot to complain about and is a damn good writer so... this should be good! stay tuned for her first post soon!

and help us welcome

MISS MIA MARVEL! 

I am so sick of gas prices!

Ok what the fuck?

Gas prices are out of confuckingtrol!

Im really starting to get freaked out here, people.

I drive an older Honda Civic, "good on gas". well that's great and all but when gas costs a paycheck a gallon, what difference does it make really??

How the hell am I supposed to be able to afford to drive anymore? Is the government trying to make us homebodies? Are they trying to make us kill ourselves?

I seriously don't understand what they expect us to do.

pretty soon, regular gas will cost 5 bux a gallon?? UMMMMM???!!! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?! That's a Subway sandwich!

and it's not like I can afford a Prius or like I can ride a bike everywhere I need to go.

what are we supposed to do?

and what's worse, there's absolutely no apparent reason for this rise in price.

Will my future children ever be able to afford to drive? Can I afford to drive to the beach this summer? Can I afford to drive to work every day????

I don't know how the a-holes with Hummers are affording to drive right now, although I guess I don't really care about that since they are a-holes in the first place, but for the rest of us decent, normal car commuters, WHAT THE FUCK?!

So Dear America, 

thanks a whole hell of a lot for fucking us in the ass with your gas.

WE ARE ALL SO SICK OF IT!

I am so sick of it all!

I mean, I can't understand a word they are saying but the title is suiting enough.

seriously,

I'M SO SICK OF IT ALL!

blushing, SICK OF IT

I happen to be cursed with fair skin and I am really getting sick of all my thoughts radiating through my cheeks like a christmas light. I guess I'll be renewing my tanning membership and actually using it this year, because that's the only solution I can think of to escape the fate of living single for the rest of my life. If I run away from one more babe or embarrass myself one more time I'm gonna go see a hypnotist to trick my skin because I am so SICK of blushing.

Dear perverted Mexican dude

Dear perverted Mexican dude,

If I am at a karaoke bar with my friends, minding my own business, wearing a see-thru shirt, that does not give you the right to stare at me the whole night. I'm so sure! You should know better than to think that you stand a chance with me or any other member of the female of the species and you should really get a clue when I clearly asked my male friend to double as my boyfriend for the night. Figure it out! This aint for you, Jose Cuervo. Im dressed like this because Im trying to bag a babe and Jesus Cristos knows you are a far cry from that! Can't I go out lookin' my best and get some attention from the RIGHT guys who speak english, are cute, and closer to my age than my dads??? Holy Trinity! 

Listen La Bamba, it's never gonna happen for you so stop looking at me, stop trying to sit next to me, stop sneaking into my pix, and for god's sake stop singing spanish karaoke to me. You are mucho gross and I am HARTO DE QUE!

Adios Amigo!

Hasta la NEVER!

i am so sick of kim

i am really sick of kim kardashian. i'm sick of hearing her talk in a baby voice, i'm sick of seeing her naked and then pretending she's self conscious, and i'm really sick of the sense of entitlement she's given most of the glendale population. literally every where i go, i have to be told what she's sad about today and frankly i don't care and i never will. who i might care about is khloe or kourtney because they are funny and have personalities, but kim is just a plastic blow up doll. she's paris hilton all over again and i'm sick of it, maybe natalie portman or zooey deschanel could be the center of the worlds attention? for a day? please? because i'll tell you what, if natalie portman was sad about something i'm pretty sure i would be too, the world would be a better place, bmw's wouldn't be the bane of my existence  and i'm sure they wouldn't maim my ears with a new song where the only word is JAM or suffocate me with some cheap ass perfume. SICK OF IT.

I am so sick of this week!

god DAMMIT!

This week has completely SUCKED!

I am so sick of it and fuck all, it's only wednesday!!

What in the shit is going on?? Everyone has a giant stick up their ass and has something completely retarded to say, and they all seem to be running my way to say it.

I swear to Allah, if I have to deal with one more piece of shit douche bag asshole, it will be the catalyst for my self destruction.

And for the love of all that is holy, if this week doesnt take a turn for the better, it will drive me to alcoholism, pill popping, or just good old fashioned murder!

(i look good in stripes. it's fine).

Dear March 2011, so far, SO BAD!

Im sick of you already!!

I am so sick of Gaga!

Alrightttttttt!

I've about had it with Lady Gaga. 

Could somebody make her stop?

We get it, you're "different". You "don't care what people think".

You're so "unique" and "new".

Give me a break, Gaga. Madonna and Cher have done it all before. You're nothing new.
In fact, just about everything you're doing and wearing is an exact knock off of something someone cooler has already done:
BUSTED!
No matter what animal or muppet or unnatural disaster you wear, you're not pushing any envelope. You just look stupid.

Do you think dressing as a lightening bolt or a bird's nest makes you look cool?

Do you think arriving to the Grammys in an egg is gonna make people ooo and ahhh?

Do you think having fire shoot out your boobs or blood drip out your eyes makes you look cutting edge?

And I've got some news for you on the raw flesh fashion, Tyra had that idea way before you. Hello? America's Next Top Model season 10, maybe you've heard of it??

point is, you're not cool or unique or interesting for wearing these ridiculous things. No one is looking at you wearing a taffeta trash bag and hand-made hooker heels thinking "wow she's so different".

What we're all really thinking is, you're trying way too hard.

Knock it off!

good god we get it.

and yea, i'll admit,  i've enjoyed singing Poker Face at Karaoke bars a time or two, and yea, i'll admit, when you tell me to 'just dance', I will... but not without laughing at how lame all your lyrics are. 

The only argument people have is "she has a good voice and a great body"...

well fuck, she'd better! Cuz she aint gettin' anywhere on her looks!
 Girl, you look like the ugly offspring of Cher and Marilyn Manson!

and god knows you cant dance for shit. My mom's pomeranian has better moves than you.

To top it all off (and to prove everything Ive just said)

I give you Lady Gaga's newest piece of shit- whoops! uh, I mean "ground breaking, cutting edge, totally new and original, never before done or seen, completely unique and one of a kind" music video,

Born This Way

Im sorry, must you pull something out of your vagina to get people talking these days?

and honey, for the record, you were not born that way, you were born THIS way, miss Stefani Germanotta!

Nice try, though.

SICK OF IT!

Sick of People (part one)

I am really sick of people

particularly people who have pets who shouldnt.

BAD PET OWNERS!

Yes, I may be a little bit more of a dog person than your average joe but Im sorry, if you go and get a pet and bring it to live with you, you are adding a member to your family. treat it that way.

Why get a dog if youre just going to keep it outside? It's not a wolf. Dogs are domesticated and are no longer wild animals. Let it in your god damn house! How is a dog house outside any better than a stall at the pound? Same goes for cat owners. Why are you getting a cat if youre just going to let it roam around outside where it will either get eaten by a coyote, ran over by a car, or lost?!

what the hell is wrong with people??

This weekend is supposed to be one of the coldest effing weekends ever with down pours of heavy rain and even snow in places that never see snow.

HELLO! get a clue!

BRING YOUR PET INSIDE!

and if you don't, all I can hope is that your heater breaks and your roof springs a leak so you can get a little taste of your own bullshit medicine.

I am so sick of bad pet owners!

SICKKKKKKK MOVESSSSSSSSSS!

well, I'll tell you one thing,

I'll never get sick of watching this video.

These dance moves are enough to keep me entertained

for the rest of my LIFE!!

GOOOD ONEEEEE!!!!!!

WHAT THE PLUCK??!

I am so sick of thick eyebrows. Big bushy dark and shapeless ones. Why do people think this is ok?

It isn't!

I don't care if you're an old armenian man, or a 2 year-old child, if you have a unibrow, wax that shit! if those hairs are hanging down into your eyes or blending in with your hairline, start trimmin' Grandpa Munster! If you're blonde and you're sportin' big old black brows, dye those suckers Anne Hatheway in Alice In Wonderland!
it aint pretty!

and now it seems that the fashion and celebrity world are trying to trick us into thinking they are  acceptable or something by attempting to popularize big brows. Why in the world would you ever???
 I see so many photo shoots or magazine spreads these days of models with big thick dark-ass brows, but don't be fooled, people.  I dont care how anorexic and/or beautiful you are, big brows are never a good look.. Gross! you aint sellin me nothin! 

Eyebrows are meant to frame your face. to compliment it. I mean, they are a big deal, but THEY shouldnt be BIG!

it wasnt ok when Brooke Shileds was in her prime, Jennifer Connelly hasnt made it ok either. Peter Gallagher (well, any gallagher for that matter) is disgusting. I mean does anyone think that Frida was a sexy lookin' lady?? And hey, I'm not gonna lie, if I didnt pluck my brows on a regular basis, Id look like fuckin' wolf mother but I keep up on the pluck and I have bangs that very nicely cover my brows when needed.
 C'mon people, we all need to make little efforts to make ourselves look good, and unless you're Whoopi Goldberg, that should include plucking.
so for the love of all that is holy,
and because Im sick of it,
FUCKING PLUCK!