Sunday, August 14, 2011

Don't Hate the Player, Hate Me

What if you love the game, does it mean that you have to love the player too? Board games just got a new level of sexual tension
All the world's a stage, and we are only players, or playa' haters. I am fortunate to be in the players category (just look at my wardrobe and you will see that I am not joking). I am a fly girl and I need me some fly guys to keep step with this bitch. In this scenario, I am what I am referring to as “this bitch.” I think of myself in a flattering light, clearly.

Why am I bring this up? Am I bragging about my playin'? Don't worry, I'm not. It ain't braggin' if it's the truth. Also, I wanted to clear up some unsavory rumors about myself that I am some kind of slut lady. Whore rumors never taste good to anyone. Sorry, I meant whore bloomers.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Looking for Gloves in All the Wrong Places, Looking for Gloves (Repeat 20 times)

An actor representation of what I look like in church.

I lost my favorite proper white church gloves. The same gloves that I use to handle my raw chicken. If the gloves are white, you can see the diseases on them. I heard that from a doctor. A Witch doctor, so you can trust that. Since I been using those gloves, I have only gotten the chicken sickness 10 times. Pretty good for a period of 2 months!

When I went to take the chicken out of the oven, the white gloves got stuck in the oven wormhole. I have lost many things in that wormhole, especially worms.

felt so attached to those gloves and now I will have to search for a new pair. I hope that there is a reality show I can go on where I will find the perfect white gloves for me. Maybe the show's title will be: Looking for Gloves: Whites Only.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Running Out of Steam

Getting to Jesus is just like this. But with a lot more dump trucks.

My car ran out of fuel on the freeway today. But I learned something very important today; the world seems to define “car” very differently from me. But it's okay! I wish people could just learn to accept to others for who they are.

It turns out that some people define my car as a small child's rocket. You may have been worried about me being on the freeway in a small child's rocket. I really do appreciate your concern. It's good to know that someone out there cares about me besides Jorge. Because Jorge seems to be distant lately. He keeps talking about how he will have to leave the U.S.A. very soon in order to avoid “execution.” I think he means extradition! He did commit a lot of crimes against humanity in his homeland! Memories...

Anywho, there is no need to be concerned about me on the freeway because I was on what I define as a freeway, not how the world defines it. So, my freeway is the road to Jesus Christ. Why do I define freeway in this matter? Because a lot of people are trying to get to Jesus Christ, some are speeding, some are going too slow, and some are getting in fatal car accidents but we will all get to him someday. Unless we get in a fatal car accident. So don't die in a car accident on the freeway. You will never get to Jesus.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

First World Problems

Makes a nice bubble bath and a mean spaghetti.

I read something about Gwyneth Paltrow saying that one of the items that she can't live without is a bathtub in her bedroom. People are saying that this is somehow ridiculous for a young lady as Mistress Paltrow to saw that a bathtub in a bedroom is a necessity.

Well, I must stand up for her and as a fellow rich person, I can be in agreeability with her. I need the bathtub in my bedroom. I could not live without it. I could also not live without the fridge and sink. Well, technically the sink and bathtub (and stove for that matter) are all the same thing. Yay for studio apartments!

Party Boots

This should be an advertising campaign. Steel-toed boots: Keep the party going, all night long.

I needed to buy some steel-toed boots recently. I was going to a rough part of town where there were many places that had some glass and tacks and push-pins on the ground. Like there was a quilting convention nearby that left a dirty mess in its wake and I needed to go downtown and see the disaster that had resulted from the quilting frenzy.

When I bought the boots, they were surprisingly expensive. Like more than you would think, which is what I mean by surprising. Something that is surprising is something that is not what you would have expected. Therefore this adjective applies to the price of these boots.

I went to a party in these boots after I went to see the quilting disaster. The party was good expect that it took place at a jewelry store at 2 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. I didn't know anyone at the party. There were two nervous looking young men who kept looking at engagement rings. Also, there was an elderly man with his young blond daughter, who was wearing a red bra-style shirt. They clearly had a strained relationship because he kept asking her what she was going to do for him if he bought her jewelry. Come On! This is a party. You are killing the atmosphere! Be in a party mood like me, with steel-toed boots.

Monday, August 8, 2011

An Excursion Excursion

The best way to win something? Just take it!

I got a Ford Excursion yesterday. Why, you are probably not asking? It was sitting in front of an ATM with the keys in the ignition and I though,t as any local woman says to herself in this situation, “Price is Right this bitch and come on down and get yourself a free car!” So, with my best Bob Barker impression I announced to everyone that the Price was Right and I skipped over to the car and rode away into the sunrise.

My eyes hurt for a little while because the sun was looking right into my eyes. I have to stop letting the sun trick me like that. That's how it gave me that weird mole. It ate all of my turnips but none of my rats. Sun Lee, my Korean landlord that sold me the weird mole for $459, you tricked me good! But I will never be tricked again. Unless it is by Criss Angel and the trick is that I get to lick the insoles of his feet.

Back to the Excursion. I needed to pick up my dry-cleaning before the store closed at 5. When all these cops kept trying to pull me over (don't they know that stop lights are not rules but only GUIDELINES. Please get a brain), I just ignored them and drove my great new car. After about 3 hours (my dry-cleaners are in Grand Rapids, a full day's drive! Glad I have a comfortable car now!), they shot out my tires. I am in jail now. But yay! Free wifi!

Sunday, August 7, 2011

What Came First: the Cheese or the Cheeseburger?

MeatBurger, kind of. If you consider ground up horse hooves meat.

The eternal question. Truly. But whatever, no reason to ponder a question that no one can answer. So instead I will think about cheeseburgers instead. That's what I usually think about when I have a difficult question that I am thinking over. Like does God really exist? Or when does the McRib come back? But why bother? Cheeseburgers!

I ordered a portobello mushroom burger but guess what? It wasn't even a meatburger. It was a vegetable made burger. Yuck city! Population: Portobello mushroom burgers and Shirley MacLaine.

I once before was disappointed with a non-meatburger. It turns out he was a she. Worst 2 dollars I ever spent.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Romp On, Romp On (Sing this in Neil Young voice for full effect)

Romper: Stylin'
There is a trend in the world called rompers. They are not those big blow up things that children bounce in order to distract them while parents drink at their birthday parties. They are an item of clothing that is like a pantsuit that has the pants and shirt connected but it is short, so kind of like a shirt connected to shorts. Or a dress that does not have a skirt at the bottom but it is shorts instead. Makes more sense now doesn't it? 

I bought one off of the Internet last week. I did not arrive until today though. The Internet is so slow. I mean, all the Internet is is a street performer, he should have more time to delivery clothing. But I guess those chalk drawings of snakes or velociraptors don't draw themselves. His toes draw them.

I tried it on and it is a little bit tight in the crotch. But after I took the sock out it fit a little bit better. Unfortunately, my labia is very cold now. I think I will look very snazzy on the bus. Also, maybe I will finally be mistaken for a child and live my life long dream: ordering off the children's menu at Denny's.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Who Knew Ice Cubes were so complicated?

Vodka on the Rocks Recipe: Add Vodka to Ice Cube(pictured above)
I recently discovered that there is a rapper called Ice Cube. To solve any confusion that this may cause, I've developed an simple flow chart for you in case you are faced with the question, is this frozen water or is this a gangster rapper from the early 1990s?

Are you cold?
→ No: This is neither Ice Cube nor an ice cube.
→ Yes: Be more speific
         → Are you an ice cold motherfucker?
                  → Yes.
                        → How do you define a good day?
                                      → Sitting in a freezer, without threat of consumption in a coca-cola
                                                    → Congratulations: you are an ice cube. Delicious and Nutritious
                                       → Well, it didn't have to use my AK, so I got to say it was a good day.
                                                → I'm sorry have to disturbed you Mr. Ice Cube, I will let you get     back  to picking up that girl you been tryin' to fuck since the twelfth grade.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Hidden Talons...oops I mean, Talents.

No thanks. I have talented legs.

I've always wondered what my hidden talent is. But seeing as it is a hidden talent, I've had a hard time finding it. I've looked in many places, including one embarrassing incident where I looked in my neighbor's house. That one landed me in the big house! Good times.

But one of my new year's resolutions this year, along with eating more fresh cantaloupe and getting back into televised professional fly-fishing, was to finally find that hidden talent. I thought for a minute while I was learning the clarinet when I was a little girl that that was my hidden talent but it turns out that it is not suppose to sound like a cat screaming. Who knew?!

I finally found my true hidden talent today. I found out that I am very good at walking! I was at an old folks' home today, visiting an old man that told me one day that I was his wife, Claire, and I discovered my ability. After I was done telling my husband stories about the zombies I encountered at the Battle of Stalingrad (He should know the truth. I am his wife after all!), I saw all of these lame old people hunched over walkers. Well guess what, 80-year olds, I got two walkers right here. They're called legs! Booyah! Schooled you, gramps.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Before I Die

Look at this face. How can you not give?

Do you ever question what will happen to you after you die? I know that few people think about it. I would say only about 10% of all people under the age of 30 really think about it at all. I mean, you really need to consider, will I be cremated or buried or eaten by rabid dogs? I would like a say in this matter if at all possible.

That is why I decided that I need a last Will and Testament. But guess what? There is no guy named Will included. I thought geez, guys named Will and Testament never have to worry about being unemployed because so many people need them to prepare for their deaths. It turns out though that it is just a piece of paper prepared by the arbiters of life and death: Lawyers.

When I went to the lawyer he asked me about my possessions. I thought that he was either trying to assess the value of my property before he stole it or he was just a rude person. Then he asked who I would give my property to if I died. I said probably Hillary Clinton or poor African people. Why do Hillary Clinton and poor African people need a collection of gently used B2K cds and pantsuits? Because they are the ones that are most in need at this time.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Pillow Talk

I bet you thought that this was going to be some kind of sexy post. Don't worry, it isn't! I bought a pillow today and I just wanted to tell you all of the gory details. The details are gory because I was watching Freddy vs. Jason for a full 50 minutes before I realized that I was at a movie theater that only showed movies that were released in 2003 and not at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

You gave your life to me. I sort of appreciate it, kind of.
So, this pillow is pretty good stuff. Like the stuffing is made of feathers. I asked the woman in the Bed, Bath, and Beyond what kind of feathers were in the pillow. She just asked me to please get off of the floor and if I wanted to try pillows, to please go to the bedding area. I guess she didn't want to admit that she didn't know. What an idiot.

Jorge believes that the feathers are made from a pigeon. He sniffed the pillow for about 2 hours and rubbed his head on it for about 20 minutes after that and then stopped because he said he felt dizzy and then he continued for about 10 minutes after that. He then proclaimed that it was made from “the right side of a dirty pigeon, most likely hatched in South Orange, New Jersey and caught by two young men with hearts full of malice and a lust for blood.” Thanks pigeon for giving your life for my pillow. I will avenge you.

Good Food

Goes well with saltine crackers.
I called the president of my local elementary school board last night to complain about the school lunches. I don't think that they are nutritious or delicious. Most importantly, delicious. Because what really matters in life? Food that tastes good or food that is good for you? Answer: Neither! It is food that is good for your soul. Or for soldiers. Whatever, all I know is that one time I ate a book that said Chicken Soul for the Soul. I have never had such well-formed bowel movements in my life.