My Epidemic

You know the Doc from Back to the Future...what did he do besides send adolescents into the past? And get shot by gun wielding terrorists b/c he scammed them out of plutonium? I mean didn't he have a job or something? I know he looked like Einstein but that's no excuse for being a jobless crackpot.

And what is with all these old movie series coming back! Have you heard about the new Rocky movie? Yeah, you heard right. ANOTHER Rocky movie. How old does Rocky have to be before his jaw completely gives out and they have to write Italian slurred subtitles? And Indiana Jones! Sorry guys, but I have been in love with Harrison Ford since I was gestated in my mother's womb. Seriously, since the uterus. A new Indy?! That's impossible! No one could take his place! And even Die Hard is coming back. Atleast they're not even trying to replace Bruce Willis. It's like his son or some bullshit like that. Sigh. Hollywood is ruining some perfectly good movie series. The only truly great cinematic addition to a series in the past few years has been Clerks II. Hands down. Pillow Pants the pussy troll is the greatest thing since...damn...ever. I heart Elias.

I know. I know. I'm ranting but still, these are the questions that plague me at night. Why shouldn't they plague you too?

Labels: Completely Unrelated Rantings

I'm not usually the dd. It's not that I am unable to sit at a bar without drinking, it's just that I only started drinking about a year ago and don't trust myself to drive if I've had any liquor at all. Seriously. I know this blog makes it sound like all I do is drink but I'm hardly the stereotypical kegger frequenting College kid.
A couple weekends ago a friend of a friend bought me a couple shots that didn't mix well with the drinks I'd already had and...long story short, I puked more that night than I ever thought was possible. So I'm steering clear of liquor for awhile. Just a short break.
So I volunteered to dd for Sunshine since we already had plans to go out twice this past week. I was completely sober at 3 different bars and managed to be bored out of my fucking mind.

Bar 1: A New WinterLodge Themed Lounge
Crowd: Youngin's - College Kids
"Look," I glared at the smoking loser sitting next to me oggling my boobs, not taking the hint at all. "I'm not drinking tonight."
"Why?"
"I'm driving." I scanned the bar again for my two drunk charges stumbling in their heels to the outdoor smoking area to make another drunk dial.
"And..." He slurred.
"Yeah. Okay. I'll talk slowly for you. I. Am. Not. Drunk Enough. For. You. To Be. Hitting. On Me."
"Bitch!"
"Yeah, I know."

Bar 2: The College Hotspot with Dollar Drinks on Saturday Nights
Crowd: College Kids to Young Professionals
"And then we bought this christmas tree but I thought it was too small and then we put it all together and seperated all the branches and it took seriously like, how long do you think honey?"
Sunshine's friend's husband grumbled something unintelligable while Sunshine's friend took her first breath since we'd gotten there.
"Yeah. Like an hour and a half! Can you believe that? But it's all lit up with pretty little white lights and I put angles all over and it's so pretty even thought it's bigger than I thought and then..."
"Sunshine," I whispered.
"Yeah," she whispered back.
"If I stab myself in the leg with that fork can we leave?"
"Go for it."

Bar 3: Some Country Shit Bar
Against every Metallica bone in my body, I found myself in the dirtiest, most rundown Western bar in the city. Sunshine was at the bar making out with man du jour while I sipped at a glass of water at a table inches off the designated dance area, whining endlessly to Chris.
"I can't believe you're in a country bar. Classic!"
"Shut up."
"Describe everything. In great detail."
"Every chick in the bar is atleast 200lbs. They're all wearing tummy shirts or football jerseys."
"Nice!"
"One is pregnant. She has two beers in one hand and a cigarette in the other."
"Ew...what are they shouting?"
I lifted the phone so she could make out the lyrics to some Yin Yang Twins rap.
"I thought they listened to country in country bars...I mean...isn't that like...the point?"
"Who knows."
"Are the guys in chaps?"
"Nope."
"Damn. Are they line dancing?"
"Nope. One is doing the moon walk though."
"What the hell? My world is all askew now."
"Oh. Dear. God."
"What!"
"I think these people are having sex."
"Yes! Now that's country!"
I jerked the phone away from my ear, "Ew. Ew! Get away!"
I can only imagine what Chris was thinking when she heard me shouting on the other end. "Look, Asshole! I'd rather tear my own arm off and beat you to death before I ever EVER touched you! EVER!"
Muffled response that even I didn't understand.
"Will punching you in the face make you go away!"
Chris cackled like mad. "Tell that guy he totally just made my week."

Labels: Drunken Adventures

Scene: Work.

Boyfriend & Ambiguously-Gay-Friend are visiting while we have our Thanksgiving dinner. Ambiguously-Gay-Friend sets my computer to play one of the millions of James Brown songs saved on the harddrive.

THE BOSS: Is that James?!

Ambiguously-Gay-Friend: (Dancing. Doesn't answer.)

THE BOSS: Hey, (Insert only other black women on our shift's name)! Come over here!

Other Woman: (Comes around the corner.) Is that James Brown? (She stares at the skinny white figure of Ambiguously-Gay-Friend shaking his ass to the James.)

THE BOSS: Shit! I've never met a white boy that knows James! You just went up in my book, baby.

Other Woman: Mine too.

Me: What the hell!

THE BOSS: (Looking innocent.) What?

Me: I've been listening to James Brown for years and I've never gone up in your book for knowing every one of his songs!

THE BOSS: (Looking confused now.) Huh?

Me: I'm a white girl and I listen to James all the time!

THE BOSS: Well...yeah. But you're not really white.

Me: Seriously?

THE BOSS: Yeah. You're blackanese.

Me: ....oh.


Prologue: That I am Blackanese is a joke around the office. There are very few non-minorities working for the city and I am Japanese and Welsh. Technically, a minority (Especially when it comes to scholarships. Affirmative action, baby.). I am in no way black but have been adopted into the large group of black women who work with me like some sort of feral child found in the woods, slowly becoming one of their own.

Labels: The Boyfriend (duh Duh DUH), Workin' Hard or Hardly Workin'?

A friend sent this to me. I couldn't help but post it. It's hilarious.


Beer vs. Vagina
A running tally for the typical male who has taken part in that endless debate of which deserves more attention, beer or the vagina.

1.Beer is always wet. Vagina needs a little work.
One point to BEER.

2.Warm beer tastes awful.
One point to VAGINA.

3.A really cold beer is satisfying.
One point to BEER.

4. You don't have to worry about finding a hair in your beer. Vagina is a different story.
One point to BEER.

5. If you get home reeking of beer your wife may get mad, make a scene, kick you out, etc. If you get home reeking of vagina your wife may get mad, kick you out, even leave you. There's definitely a point to be had here, depending on your point of view and personal circumstances. I'll just call it a DRAW for the time being.

6. Ten beers in one night and you can't drive home. Ten vaginas in one night and you don't want to drive anywhere.
One point to VAGINA.

7. If you have a lot of beer in a public place, your reputation may suffer. If you eat any vagina in public, you become a legend.
One point to VAGINA.

8. If a cop stops you and you smell of beer you may get arrested. If you smell of vagina he may buy you a beer.
One point to VAGINA.

9. You normally don't find old beer.
One point to BEER.

10. Too much beer and you'll think you see flying saucers. Too much vagina and you'll think you've seen God.
One point to VAGINA.

11. Ripping off a beer bottle label is boring. Ripping off panties is fun.
One point to VAGINA.

12. In most countries there's a tax on beer.
One point to VAGINA.

13. If you have another beer the first one never gets pissed off.
One point to BEER.

14. You can always be sure if you're the first one to open a bottle or a can. One point to BEER.

15. If you shake beer it'll get all agitated but eventually it settles down.
One point to BEER.

16. With beer you always have choice: clear, dark, pilsner, ale, lager, etc... with vagina you also have a choice, white, black, asian, hispanic, and eskimo...
Call it a DRAW.

17. You always know how much beer is going to cost
One point to BEER.

18. Beer doesn't have a mother
One point to BEER.

19. Beer never expects to be hugged for half an hour after you drink it.
One point to BEER.

20. An excess amount of vagina will not force you to have your liver detoxified in the emergency room.
One point to VAGINA.

21. Your access to beer is not limited by menstruation cycles, emotions, principles, or your beer being tired and/or not in the mood.
One point to BEER.

22. Having an open beer in your car is illegal. Having a girl in your car without pants on is just fucking cool.
One point to VAGINA.

23. Beer will never complain about how fast your are done with it and on to the next one.
One point to BEER.

24. No matter how many times you partake, the opening to a bottle/can of beer never gets stretched out to where it's no longer enjoyable.
One point to BEER.

25. If you are at a party and you grab a beer, regardless from where you pick it up, there is absolutely no chance that beer will give you a disease that will ruin your life.
One point to BEER.

26. Vagina from places other than Germany, Ireland and Canada are worth enjoying. The same cannot be said for beer.

One point to Vagina.

27.Vagina makes you erect and wet, beer gives you erectile dysfunction and dehydrates you.
One point to VAGINA.

28. You dont have take beer to dinner and a movie to enjoy it.
One point to BEER.

29. if a beer gives head, its a bad thing. if vagina gives head, its all good.
One point to VAGINA.

30. Two beers at one time and you're content, but two vaginas at one time and you're in heaven.
One point to VAGINA.

31. One too many beers can ruin a night; one too many vaginas... well now there's just no such thing!
One point to VAGINA.

32. If you throw up after drinking alot of beer youv'e had a good night.... if you throw up after having vagina you need to go to the doctor
One point to BEER.

33. You dont have to be 21 to get vagina legally.
One point to VAGINA.

34. The going rate for beer is around $3 at a bar - the going rate for vagina is about $50 on the street.
One point to BEER.

35. Waking up next to a disgusting beer is not as bad as waking up next to an ugly girl.
One point to BEER.

36. You might wonder what you're drinking if the beer doesn't have a label but if the girl doesn't have clothes then you could care less
One point to VAGINA.

37. If one of ur friends drinks ur beer its fine, but if they hook up with your vagina then you have a problem.
One point to BEER.

38. I've had more luck shoulder tapping for beer than I have for vagina.
One point to BEER.

39. it's simple...stick your dick in a beer can...and see how that goes...stick your dick in vagina...and well ENJOY!
One point to VAGINA.

40. Beer will not cook you breakfast in the morning.
One point to VAGINA.

41. Beer doesnt need more then a sip every once in a while to keep it happy.
One point to BEER.

42. Beer can turn green if left out to long, vagina can turn green also if left out to long, but you can stomach the beer.
One point to BEER.

43. Beer doesn't expect you to shower gifts upon it every anniversary. It doesn't even expect anniversaries.
One point to BEER.

44. When you finish a beer, seeing it again later is a bad thing. When you are finished with a vagina, seeing it again later is usually a good thing.
One point to VAGINA.

45. It takes multiple beers to get the feeling you're after. It should only take one vagina.
One point to VAGINA.

46. Beer fills a void inside your soul, you fill a void inside vagina.
Call it a draw.

47. Beer tends to be STD free.
One point to BEER.

48. Beer never checks out other potential partners. The same cannot be said for vagina..
One point to BEER.

49. You can always enjoy beer without a tightly wrapped piece of plastic around your penis.
One point to BEER.

Labels: All things Vagina, Drunken Adventures, Guest Appearances

I like my men to act like men.
If I feel like his vagina is larger than mine then sorry, Pussy, but you need to move along. I'm sick of metrosexuals. I'm sick of little men that make me want to slap them and say, "Hey! Untuck your penis!" Maybe this is the...4 hours of sleep I've gotten in two days talking but I don't really give a shit. If you don't have ovaries then I believe you should be required to act like a man. Unless you're fucking men. Because if you're that brave to come out to a culture that still believes homosexuality is on the level of biblical sodomy, then you deserve to be able to act like anyone you want. Dress like Cher, baby. I'll be cheering you on.
But as for the rest of you. BUCK UP! Show me some penis and stop acting like a pair of fucking ovaries! No! Don't shave your chest! No, you pansey! Don't you dare go fake baking! Goddam! Where's the testicles in this place! I miss testicles! Where did that whole testosterone thing go! All I see is estrogen!

I also think tight pants are for chicks. If they belong on anyone, let's face it they definately belong on the fairer sex. And cowboy boots too. Stop it. We all know you just want to wear assless chaps so stop projecting on those poor boots.

Labels: Penis

I've been without blogging inspiration as of late so instead of posting little pictures of kissing puppies or kilts blowing in the wind, I've decided to post one of my good friend's blogs. It made me laugh till I thought milk would come out my nose (even though I had no idea what he was talking about most the time) so I figure some of you may enjoy it also. Lift your milk glasses, friends and say cheers to Coke on your testicles.

"Chrono Trigger is the best game in the history of ever. Not only do you travel through time and kick the asses of monsters that are massively much bigger than you, but the characters are varied and lovingly memorable. You have a robot, a frog man and a buxom prehistoric blonde bombshell. It may only be 16-bit, but she's fuckin' hot. Swords, guns, aliens, monsters and saving the world. All on the Super Nintendo system. They could have stopped at the SNES, if you ask me. In the long run, Nintendo peaked a little early. Of course, there's something to be said about modern fighting games where the female characters' boobs actually move. Not the most important part of the game, but it's nice to know that those programmers really take their jobs seriously. Y'know, taking pride in their work and all that jazz. It's little touches like these that make me wonder how people were ever happy with Pong. Oh, right, the seventies. Not exactly our nation's proudest years. You know the stuff on nicotine patches? No, not nicotine, the stuff the put on the patch that allows the nicotine to enter your bloodstream through your skin. Well, in the seventies, everybody (see also, the tight asses) was afraid that somebody would mix that same chemical with a batch of LSD and start painting doorknobs with it, effectively tweaking everybody within a 6 block area out of their freakin' skulls. To my knowledge, it never happened. Why would anyone want to waste that much LSD on people who would never appreciate it? Which reminds me, did you know that the original drummer from Jefferson Airplane abused drugs so much that he still has daily conversations with Jesus, God and Ghandi? He has that many holes in his brain. Which is why I try to stay away from Coca Cola. I know it's a big jump from LSD to caffeine, but Coke can eat through a fuckin' metal bolt in just over a week. I'm not taking any chances. So remember: Chrono Trigger good; LSD on your doorknob and Coke on your testacles bad."

Labels: Guest Appearances, Penis

I don't remember where I heard of the Sock Gnome or even how the topic came up, but let me tell you, I'm a believer. The little bastard has been plaguing me for most my life. Until now I've written it off as one of those random acts of violence so many talk about when they discuss international politics but no more. I've finally realized that it's all a conspiracy. A conspiracy of socks...and Germans...perhaps some Carnies also...

For some reason unknown to me I have no socks that match. None. I have baskets upon drawers upon piles of socks all over my house and yet none of them match. They're all white socks and yet none of them match. How does that happen? Why does that happen?

I even tried buying socks with little color-coordinated toes in pretty pastel hues so as to make sorting socks easier. It didn't. I only have one sock with purple toes and one with pink. I bought two plastic baggies of each color and now I have no idea where the others went. My only explanation is that the goddamn Sock Gnome has it out for me and has alligned itself with those who stand against me and all I stand against...which is mostly miming.

Let me just add him to the long list of people/gnomes I'm convinced are involved in the international conspiracy against me...and my hatred of mimes.

THE LIST:
Sock Gnome
My French Teacher
The Vagina Monger
My Doctor and her penchant for ass shots
The Writers of the O.C.
Republicans
The Work Troll
My boobs
Santa (He tried to get me to take my shirt off once.)
The guy who hit my car & ran
The entire security staff at my college
Chris
All those rich kids on "My Super Sweet Sixteen"
All Carnival Folk
Most (But not all) Germans
Mimes

Labels: Completely Unrelated Rantings

The events Sunshine witnessed at 26th and Cuming one wet winter's night have quickly become legend at my workplace. It's actually not that interesting of a story unless you're into construction area masturbation...which I am. Come to think of it (Get it, cum?), I don't know anyone who wouldn't be interested in a story that includes masturbation in a construction area. I mean the details leading up to such a scenario are no doubt priceless. But I digress.

Sunshine was trucking along in her crazy Speedracer way when she was stopped at the corner of 26th and Cuming (Seriously, Cuming. I'm not making this up). Out of the corner of her eye she noticed some movement outside her passenger side window, on the street corner. Sunshine, with her keen Ninja like senses, turned her head ever so slightly and saw the shadowy figure of a young man seemingly accosting a construction area sign. She squinted. He seemed to be beating the sign wildly taking whatever young adult angst built up inside him entirely out on the unsuspecting sign. She leaned across her passenger seat and squinted harder. What was he doing? Without warning, he'd suddenly sped up his violent attacks, beating some sort of caotic rhythm into the poor tin object. Was he...no...he couldn't be...wait...YES! He was having sex with a huge, bright orange construction area sign! Oh Lord! Did it say, "Men at work?" It did!

The light turned green. She crept forward into the intersection, ignoring the angry honks of the cars behind her as she was unable to take her eyes from the trainwreck occuring on the corner of CUMING! Yes, dear friends, the gods have a sense of humour! How else could such a thing take place?

Sunshine circled around back again to "double check" what she'd seen. The poor, evidently drunk young man was still having violent sex with the sign and not even attempting to hide the fact. She hurried back to work to spread the news, cursing the fact that she didn't have a camera in her car.

And in walked Sunshine with tales of construction sign masturbation and thus, a star was born (or something equally cheesy and momentous) and the rest is history. (Ah the cliches!)

Labels: Drunken Adventures

So my day was going alright. The Vagina Monger had finally gotten chewed a new one in class. I giggled helplessly when the professor (who looks like a skinny Santa) called her an "ugly American." The Dean of my college gave me the go ahead on graduating in the Spring. Boyfriend informed me that he had bought a motorcycle last weekend and me a cute little jacket so I can ride on the back in true biker momma fashion. And then when I was driving home all happy and content with life and the people in it SOME FUCKING ASSWIPE HIT ME FROM BEHIND AND PUSHED ME INTO A HUGE GODDAMN INTERSECTION! So yeah. And then the aforementioned asswipe took off. No. He did not stop to see if I was okay. No. He did not stop to check if there was any damage. AND YES! YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I CALLED THE COPS AND GAVE THEM HIS LICENSE PLATE INFORMATION! YEAH THAT'S A FELONY MOTHERFUCKER! FELONY! YOU BETTER PRAY TO GOD ABOVE THAT YOU AND I NEVER CROSS PATHS IN A DARK ALLEY CAUSE I WILL CASTRATE YOU WITH A GODDAMN BUTTERKNIFE!
And now that I've eaten, taken a shower and watched atleast 3 Geico caveman commercials and Rachel Ray make a Thanksgiving feast in less than 60 minutes, I'll be venturing into work. I'm no longer swearing in fits of tourettes like spasms. And my hands have uncurled from the claw-like gestures they were making at the thought of white Blazers.
On a sidenote, I've become obsessed with Scrubs. I don't know why.

Labels: Completely Unrelated Rantings

Hopefully mine will go something like this...Yes!

Labels: Penis

I finally realized why that stupid Kay Jewelers commercial's slogan is, "Every kiss begins with KAY." Get it Kay jewelers? Yeah. I didn't get it. I just thought it was a really pretentious advertisement suggesting that all kisses are due, atleast in part, because of Kay jewelers. And then I was making a run for the lady's room today and caught the tail end of the ad on tv. I found myself humming the jingle as I frantically undid my pants. And then it clicked! Holy crap! Every kiss begins with 'k!' Ha! A pun! I love puns. I felt smart and astoundingly stupid at the same time.

Do you remember those books from elementary school where you'd read a chapter and at the end get to choose what the characters would do next? Eventually you'd have navigated your way through the entire book. I loved these short literary adventures. They made me feel powerful and in control. Unfortunetly, I always got my characters killed. I'm wondering if this could somehow be reflected in my current lifestyle. Any thoughts?

Labels: Completely Unrelated Rantings

I like this picture. I don't know why, but it makes me laugh. I'm only posting it b/c you can't see my face and I am determined to remain anonymous on this blog. I know the chances of anyone actually reading and knowing who I am are millions upon millions to one. But still. The Fates seem to have some sort of serious vendetta against me so I'm not taking chances.



PS
I'm not suffering from a fit of depression here, I'm just drunk in this photo and laughing really, really hard.

PPS
Yes. Those are drunken "Jail house tats" on my knuckles. No. They are not permanent. And yes, my left hand is swollen. I haven't the slightest idea why.

Labels: Drunken Adventures

My little gnome professor narrated the story of Genesis the other day. It cracked me up. Considering it wasn't a religion class and we were discussing Christian tradition, I was basically the only person who knew the story as well as the Prof. So here was our discussion.

P: "So God created the earth and..." (He paused)
M: "And he saw that it was good."
P: "Then he created man and when he saw that Adam was alone he..." (Pause)
M: "Saw that it was not good."
P: "So what did he do next?"
Someother student: "He made Eve?"
P: "Nope."
M: "He made beasts for Adam."
P: "Good! And when he marched his menagerie of beasts in front of Adam, the man named and appreciated the animals but was still not happy. Adam was all like, 'Yeah, that's cool and all, I like the giraffe, but I'm not really into fleas...got anything else?' And God said, 'Seriously? Not even the elephant? You're not into that? A little extra cushion for the pushin'?' And Adam shook his head at God until the great Lord created Eve from the rib of his greatest creation!" He finished with a great flourish of his hands.
M: "Bwah?"
Someother student: "Did he just imply that God likes fat chicks?"
M: "Bwah?!"

There were no words for the expression on my face at that moment.

Labels: Scholarly Articles of Interest

I got felt up today. This is why I prefer Borders. Things like this happen to me alot. I would normally write my distressing experience at the local Barnes & Noble's off to my boobs' newly acquired evil super powers, but they were not male bodies being pulled unwittingly into my chest's gravitational pull. Oh no. I had a smelly forty-year-old woman with saggy boobs rub up against me in the Starbuck's line. I'm not sure if she thought it would get me to give up my key position as next to be helped, if she thought maybe she could rub some of my young boobishnous off on her own saggy pair, or if she was just into that sort of thing. All I know is that as she was rubbing against me and I babbled nervous nonsensical nothings into Chris's ear, the young college kid behind her was having a gay ol' time. After numerous attempts to ignore the rubbing and then several silent pleas for help sent over the head of the smelly-rubbing-lady to the tall college kid, he finally took some action other than grinning evilly. He tilted his head to the side slightly and checked out my ass. I glared equally between the woman rubbing on me like a cat in heat and the obnoxious frat boy enjoying the entire scene until I basically yelled my order at the Starbuck's blender lady and fucking fled. It was horrible. Why do these things always happen to me? I'm getting sick of my boobs having turned to the dark side. Darth Titties.

Labels: All things Vagina

For some reason my boobs have been out of control lately. I have no idea why. But every picture of me recently has been all boobs.
You can't even tell if there are other people in the photo because your eyes are drawn to the boobs. As if by some jedi-mind-trick it's just suddenly like BAM! BOOBS! People? I don't see people. All I see are huge boobs.
I have come to the conclusion that my girls have acquired evil super powers. Not only are they getting me accussed of having on a Madonesque cone bra or recently siliconed breastesses, but they have recently attracted a bit too much attention for my taste. Yesterday I received a 2-minute message from a morbid, work-related friend about my "crazy titties." And now even my mom when I walk into a room yells, "What is the deal with your boobs lately?" Fuck if I know, Mom!
If anyone has any information about why my boobs have chosen to take on a life of their own please pass it along to me. I'm about to put out a missing persons on my normally sane cleavage.

And as if by way of the almighty, my favorite male blogger chose this same topic in which to rant about in his latest post.
See A Tale of Two Titties. It's well worth it.

Labels: All things Vagina, Guest Appearances