August 27, 2004

• Yes, I’m Posting

  
  

    

  
  

  I was compelled to come out of hiding upon learning that I was a contestant in Round Two of the Xanga Knock-Out. the_sibyl dubbed this round “Buxom Blonde Brawl,” but I’m neither buxom nor blonde. Talk amongst yourselves. I’m just a highlighted brunette who owns some good bras.

  
  

   

  
  

  But I digress.

  
  

   

  
  

  Nothing is more likely to tease me out of the Xanga shadows than having to defend my honor.  Unfortunately, I did not know about the contest until this evening (and here I thought that the recent surge of new subbers had to do with my inherent magnetism), and now Nina is kicking my ass! And she dissed my picture! Them be fightin’ words. At least I don’t resort to showing gratuitous boob in my profile picture, unlike certain other buxom blondes we know! Plus, this is not a fair fight! I’ve registered my complaint with the International Gymnastics Federation. Not only did Nina get a head start, she is in the Featured Spotlight, her man won the first Knock-Out, and he gives her free publicity! Time for some new blood! Quit hogging all the glory, Mr. and Mrs. Repairman_Jack! Go vote. Now! Then come back.

  
  

   

  
  

  Done?

  
  

   

  
  

  Good.

  
  

   

  
  

  RETURNING THE LOVE:

  
  

   

  
  

  pajan, Stave, FlannelMystic, sdh25, Caligrrrl, goofycaca, silverite, eFairy, McBloggs, paczki, cyndir, danceqt, JacquiRashawna, Kallikrates, valerina16, deevaa, theproverbialkat, ShapelyPatellas, kevinsane, College_Chick, fireplug, ryerye_zanguh, Nic_C, JaneEliz, sydney_chickie, Phreakinred, LisaBlessing, Texie, santefedreams, Mellihandro, SansMerci, blueyoohoo, alienista, jpnkn, MightyMartian, ericthepsycho, enron01, stone_butterfly, GaiasDaughter, sardonicpar, Multiverse, VTDaRkAnGeL, SinfullyDelicious, theLioness, MidoriSour, justagirl2, AmyinVA, AgentSik007, KyleRayner, Tyche, MrChikinMoose, StephanieJ73, Cardinal_Fang, a_ho, bellygoddess, DirtyAndShaken, ShirlRavenlock, Racinprincess, saneinsanity, Beckachu3, TenaceBella, Honduran_Goddess, Luminous, neverforget13, Rogue610, sunshinesgold, SuperflousElapseV, elizzybass, imamycute, baileparasiempre, blondbedhead, LastLaugh, dilbert, silvermyst_ashke, Megily, Dorfman, haikrude, DramamineBoy, Maxine_Power, grisashubby, Glomper, LittleVlahGirl, KittyKat7, sofawarrior, xevilsheepx, NintendoHead, StardustDancer, love_jessica, Nichelle, Rubiegal2001, KariMae, IndigoSky, ResoundingClarity, MitziCheese, a_phenomenal_woman, Heavenly_Dragonfly, sweetontherelient, LLsquared, StAinDEyeS, Mellihandro, FScottKrisgerald, MonsVenus, infestedmonkeytree, udontwannaknow, azn_qt1 and snoochface!

  
  

   

  
  

  I’m TheGoddess and I approve this message.

  
  

   

  
  

  Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

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  Please Excuse My Bug Eye

  
  

   

  
  

  The Boyfriend forced me to go running at the track again last Monday, and as we were making the final turn on the first lap, a small bug flew into my eye. And got stuck. Right under my eyelid.  My eye welled up with tears as the little bugger crawled around under my lid searching for an escape. I imagined it looked something like those X-Files episodes where you would see the worms or roaches or other gross things crawling underneath the top epidermal layer of the victims. Horrible. By the way, other than the Boyfriend, not one other jogger stopped to ask if I was okay, or to question why I suddenly grabbed my eye, screamed in pain and blindly made my way off the track.  Stupid, uncaring joggers!

  
  

   

  
  

  I managed to dig the invading bug from my eye (it was still alive, btw), but my eye still stung. And then it looked like this:

  
  

   

  
  

  

  
  

   

  
  

  Okay, that’s not really my eye. My eyes are hazel, stupid! I just put that picture there to make sure you were still paying attention. My eye also didn’t look that red and pus-like, although it hurt like hell.  I decided to go sans contact in my left eye for a few days to allow my eye more time to breathe and heal.  I’m practically blind without contacts, but surprisingly, my brain adapted well and relied entirely on my right eye to see. In fact, my half-blindness probably improved my driving ability. I would have worn my glasses, but those of you who have been reading this for some time may recall the time I had an eye ulcer and had to wear my glasses, and I kept falling down flights of stairs because I wasn’t used to not having peripheral vision. So I’ll stick with having one good eye, thanks.  When one-eye vision started to give me a headache, I just closed the irritated left eye for awhile. I’m wasn’t winking at you, stupid.  It kind of made me feel like a pirate. Arrrgh! Where’s Johnny Depp?

  
  

   

  
  

  Of course, this is all the Boyfriend’s fault. If he had just let me stay on the couch, watching bad reality TV and munching on frozen Little Debbie Peanut Butter Bars, I wouldn’t have been on running that track, and the Evil Bug wouldn’t have taken a dive head first into my left eyeball. Damn you, Boyfriend! Damn you and your healthy lifestyle!

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

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  From Jordansmorgasborden: The Funniest Niece on the Planet

  
  

   

  
  

  Jordan: I’m not wearing any panties.

  
  

  Heidi (Jordan’s mom): Why aren’t you wearing panties?

  
  

  Jordan: Well, underwear is completely useless. All it does it get dirty. So I’ve decided not to wear it.

  
  

   

  
  

  (shortly after returning from the pool)

  
  

  Jordan: You know what I’ve discovered?

  
  

  Heidi: What?

  
  

  Jordan: Chlorine makes me fart. I’ve been farting the whole way home.

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  (on Rodin’s Thinker)

  
  

  Jordan: Oh, that’s the statute of the guy thinking on the toilet.

  
  

   

  
  

  

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  Movie Review Haiku 

  
  

  The Village

  
  

   

  
  

  A keen sense of smell

  
  

  Waiting for the cute blind girl

  
  

  To ask who farted

  
  

   

  
  

  The Bourne Supremacy

  
  

   

  
  

  Ten car accident

  
  

  I hope you have insurance

  
  

  Soft tissue injury

  
  

   

  
  

  Manchurian Candidate

  
  

   

  
  

  Oedipus complex

  
  

  Nothing to do with China

  
  

  Hot incest action!

  
  

   

  
  

  I, Robot

  
  

   

  
  

  I, saw the movie

  
  

  I, enjoyed the action scenes  

  
  

  I, want a robot

  
  

   

  
  

  Dodgeball

  
  

   

  
  

  Aim for the fat kid

  
  

  Duck all the flying wrenches

  
  

  Hot lesbo action!

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

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  Why My Boyfriend is a “Little Bit Different”

  
  

  Part 5

  
  

   

  
  

  I am convinced that the Boyfriend and I are perfect candidates for Bravo’s new show, Things I Hate About You. If there is ANY reality show I could get on, this one would be it. Except that I read somewhere that in order to be on the show, you had to live within 3 hours driving distance of New York (maybe if I drove really, really fast?) and the couples have to have been cohabitants for a long period of time.  Oh well. The Boyfriend, who recently got a new job and moved to my town, is staying with me temporarily until the lease on his new apartment starts at the end of September.  We’ve been living together a month, with one more month to go, and I’m sure I’ll have plenty of material by the time I boot his ass out — er, I mean, by the time he moves into his new place. Unfortunately, because of Bravo’s geographically discriminating ways, this material will only be available on my blog, and not on national television. *sigh*

  
  

   

  
  

  48.  Sometimes, I hide in the apartment, wait for the Boyfriend to walk by, and then jump out and scare him.  The faces he makes when I do this make me laugh and laugh and laugh. Oddly, he doesn’t laugh about it so much. What gives? Besides, when I do this, I’m teaching him a very important lesson about always being on guard in case an intruder is lurking somewhere in the shadows of our apartment. 

  
  

  
  

   

  
  

  49.  He can’t peel a cucumber. And no, that’s not a euphemism. 

  
  

   

  
  

  50.  Sometimes, when the Boyfriend is making El Numero Dos in the front hallway bathroom, I’ll sneak up on him and suddenly open the door all the way (it opens into the hallway). He can’t reach the door to close it, so he’s on display for all the world to see (which basically just means Fraidy Cat). This makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. Oddly, he doesn’t laugh about it so much. What gives? Besides, when I do this, I’m teaching him a very important lesson about locking doors.

  
  

   

  
  

  51. Trash. Oh, where do I begin? (See No. 20 for more about this ongoing battle)

  
  

   

  
  

  TheGoddess: Why can’t you put the trash in the trash can, instead of on the kitchen floor, on the kitchen counter or on top of the trash can?

  
  

  The Boyfriend: It’s all the kitchen.

  
  

   

  
  

  The Boyfriend: You put your trash in those plastic bags all over the apartment. I don’t get your trash procedures.

  
  

  TheGoddess: Well, what procedures do you use to let yourself know when to take out the trash?

  
  

  The Boyfriend: When it overflows and falls to the floor.

  
  

   

  
  

  Perhaps I should just be thankful that the Boyfriend manages to get most of his trash into the trash can. But a girl has gotta have a dream, right? And I dream of a day when the Boyfriend not only throws ALL of his trash into the trash can (I emphasize the phrase “into the trash can” as opposed to “on top of the trash can”), but also a day where he manages to replace the full trash bag with a fresh one, and the full bag finds it way to the dumpster outside. To dream the impossible dream / To fight the unbeatable foe / To bear with unbearable sorrow / To run where the brave dare not go!

  
  

   

  
  

  Alas, my dream has yet to be realized!

  
  

   

  
  

  The trash can in the kitchen is your standard plastic trash can from Bed, Bath & Beyond, equipped with a foot pedal that pops open the lid so you can avoid touching the germ-infested top. About a month ago (coincidentally, about the time the Boyfriend became my roommate), I kept finding the top of the trash can askew, which prevents the pedal device from working properly.  I deduced that someone was either lifting the top of the trash can by hand or stomping on the pedal too hard, which caused the top to disengage from the gadget that linked it with the pedal. I broke out my CSI: Miami fingerprinting kit and the resulting evidence pointed to only one suspect: the Boyfriend. *insert the Law & Order DUN! DUN! music here*

  
  

   

  
  

  Being the amazing and patient (not to mention hot) girlfriend that I am, I showed the Boyfriend how to use the trash can, and how to fix the lid should it ever again become disengaged. Twice. Apparently, I’m a crappy-ass instructor because I keep finding the top off on the trash can. What gives? Even if the two (count ‘em, TWO) demonstrations I’ve performed for the Boyfriend were not enough, there is a sticker on the underside of the trash can lid that illustrates how to put the lid back on the trashcan!! 

  
  

   

  
  

  He tried again tonight. It took him 20 minutes to do 5 failed attempts.  

  
  

   

  
  

  52.  Sometimes, I write about the Boyfriend and his idiosyncrasies on my website, and then complete strangers from all over the world come by and leave great comments that make fun of him, which make me laugh and laugh and laugh. Oddly, the Boyfriend doesn’t laugh about it so much. What gives? Besides, when I do this, I’m teaching him a very important lesson about . . . uhm, eprop whoring?  On an unrelated note, have you voted?

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

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  My Cat is Famous and Yours is Not

  
  

   

  
  

  

  
  

   

  
  

  Fraidy Cat is Number 203 in the Infinite Cat Project. She will be give you an autograph in exchange for a nickel bag of cat nip and a can of Fancy Feast sliced beef.

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

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  The Funniest Stuff Is What You Don’t Make Up – Part 2

  
  

  More Weird Blogrings (Part 1 is here)

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

  You Can’t Join My Blogring

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Everyone should join in defiance. Fight the power.  

  
  

   

  
  

  Guys who play the guitar, are hot.

  
  

     TheGoddess says: People who put commas in odd places, are not. 

  
  

   

  
  

  !!-!! No stupid-ass WRiTiNg LiKe ThiS allowed

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: No stupid-ass WRiTiNg LiKe ThiS allowed. Uhm, except in the title of the blogring.

  
  

   

  
  

  **I Dont Follow The Crowd**

  
  

  This ring is for the individuals, the fools, the outcasts, the nerds and the dreamers, the poets, the artists, the victoms of society and the people that arnt afraid to walk the road less traveled by , this ring is for you,and me, and everyone else who considers Themselves unique.
  Started: 10/13/2003 1:10 PM | Total Members: 91

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Be an individual! Be unique! And join the 91 of us who are just like you!

  
  

   

  
  

  i peed in the cemetary

  
  

   

  
  

    TheGoddess says: *blink, blink*

  
  

   

  
  

  George Bush is a Vagina

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: This is immature name calling is totally called for. There is no reason to disparage the female anatomy by associating it with George Bush.

  
  

   

  
  

  !**** I EAT CONDOMZ ****!

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Would you like fries with that?

  
  

   

  
  

  Aspiring Social Hermits

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: It is good to have a goal.

  
  

   

  
  

  BlogRing name here

  
  

     TheGoddess says: The leader of this ring took the instruction, “Type blogring name here” literally.

  
  

   

  
  

  Yeah? well i don’t like your face.

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Is Nina_Williams the leader of this blogring?

  
  

   

  
  

   !!!!!A.D.D Kids Unite!!!!!

  
  

  
  

     TheGoddess says: I found the blogs in this ring to be unfocused, unfinished, disjointed and rambling.

  
  

   

  
  

  I’m Rick James, bitch!

  
  

  You’re not Rick James, shithead.

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Dueling blogrings!

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

  Barry’s BlogRing

  
  

  Are you a friend of Barry? Join now if you are!
  Started: 4/18/2004 11:56 AM | Total Members: 1

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says:  Poor Barry has only one friend.  Oh wait . . . Barry is the only member of this blogring. Correction: Poor Barry has no friends.

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

  Morse High School

  
  

     TheGoddess says: All the entries in this blogring read like this: Beep beep beep bah bah beep . . .

  
  

   

  
  

  Troy High School

  
  

      TheGoddess says: They have sword fights instead of fist fights, and their school uniforms are really uncomfortable.

  
  

   

  
  

  got poop?

  
  

   

  
  

     TheGoddess says: *insert dirty sanchez joke here*

  
  

   

  
  

  GODDESS TALK
  HEY GIRLS WE CAN TALK ABOUT BOYS IN A GOOD WAY AND WE CAN ALSO TALK ABOUT THEM IN A BAD WAY LIKE WE ARE SO BETTER THEN THEM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  Started: 7/11/2003 | Total Members: 1

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Omigod! I’ve always wanted a blogring dedicated to me! Oh wait a minute . . . nevermind.  

  
  

   

  
  

  .:*The Goddess*:.
  For those of you who believe in the Goddess and anything else you wish…
  Started: 3/8/2004 | Total Members: 4

  
  

     TheGoddess says: Omigod! I’ve always wanted a blogring dedicated to me! Oh wait a minute . . . nevermind.  

  
  

   

  
  

  Andrew IS The King of Xanga 

  
  

     TheGoddess says: A goddess trumps a king. So there!

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

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  These Xangans Are Funnier Than You

  
  

   

  
  

  “The second time we went into the dressing rooms, Rachel was trying on clothes when she farted and shit came out. It was a shart, so to speak, but it was so explosive that it really went beyond a shart. Rachel said she didn’t know what to do. She thought about asking me to find some tissues, but then she’d have to tell me why. So she just calmly wiped her ass with her shorts and put them back on.” – jessicass

  
  

   

  
  

  “My mom, who is anxious to have a grandchild, has informed me she has lowered her standards as a mother and would be greatly pleased if her children were to marry, well, basically anything.  At this late point in her non-grandparenting career, she’d be ecstatic if I came home with Melissa Etheridge in one hand and a frozen sperm pop in the other.”  – cerveza

  
  

   

  
  

  “Dude, please keep your pants on…  I don’t want to do business with you or your penis.” – John

  
  

   

  
  

  “Amazingly……inexplicably…..for the second time in two years, I almost backed over a midget yesterday after work.  Same guy wearing the same blue workshirt with his name on the pocket.  Same shopping center.  Same angry shaking-his-tiny-fist-at-me reaction.” – middleageguy

  
  

  “I don’t understand why boxers are ever made without the button on the flap.  I really can’t imagine a company so financially strapped that they’d leave off the most vital part of the entire ‘boxer short’, if you will.  And yet I own some that have no button.  And when the others get dirty, I resort to wearing them.  And then I play ‘keep the horsey in the stable’ all day long, since I have no button to ensure that he stays in his comfy home.  The reason I bought such worthless boxers?  Because when they package them, you can’t always see if they have buttons or not.  I’m going to start ripping open the packages to make sure, from now on.  It’s important to remember that boxers are all about freedom, but *contained* freedom.  You know, like we have in the U.S.!” – deehartley

  
  

  “i kept telling everyone today to ‘have a nice day’ when i didn’t really mean it.”  – thatsmysong

  
  

  “I would rather not rehash the painful memory of having to endure the trauma of fishing my beloved shoe out of the jaws of filthiness otherwise known as communal toilets but I will say that it is very feasible to use two whole Purell Hand Sanitizer bottles in one sitting.” – Sjp2930

  
  

   

  
  

  “This is a form acknowledging that you are signing a blank acknowledgement form. Please sign here.” – ExLibris

  
  

   

  
  

  “So my mom and I get home, get the keys, and drive back to the rental property.  I bring the stick I used to do wushu with back in the day at my mom’s request, in case people are still inside the house and need to be fought off.  Or something like that.  The advantage to being Asian is that if you carry some sort of sword or stick, everyone automatically assumes that you know how to use it as a weapon.” – powertothepenguins

  
  

   

  
  

  “5 words – shave in the winter chewbacca.” – chrischoi

  
  

   

  
  

  “Speaking of fires, you know how in movie theaters they have that message ‘Please note the nearest exit.  In case of an emergency, walk – do not run to the nearest exit.’?  Well, my freshmen year of college, one of my professors used to be a fire safety engineer.  He says, in the event of a fire, those who walk never make it.  So if there’s a fire in a theater, run like hell.” – thechun

  
  

    

  
  

  “Whoa.  Xanga-vu – I feel like I’ve blogged this before.  How unsettling to realize that I may be plagiarizing myself.”  – blueyoohoo

  
  

   

  
  

  

  • 4:45 pm
  • 90 Comments