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Family Birthday Traditions

 

Awww . . . you guys! Thanks for all the birthday eprops on my last entry!! There have been three birthdays in my family in the last month or so, and that got me thinking about my family’s birthday traditions. Yeah, we do the cake and presents and Happy Birthday song thing, but then we have a couple unique traditions as well:

 

The Regifting of the Reception Sticks. Many years ago, I went to Fort Lauderdale with my then-boyfriend to visit his grandparents. When we were leaving, his grandmother gave me a reception stick, which is a chocolate covered mint just like you’d find in a restaurant.  Being polite, I told her the reception stick was tasty.  She insisted I take the whole box.  Very odd, but declining her offer would have been rude.  Ever since then, mom and I have given each other the reception sticks as presents for birthdays, holidays, etc. We’ve had to wrap the reception sticks in oversized or oddly-shaped boxes to fool the recipient.  I held on to the reception sticks for over a year, waiting for the right moment to pounce them on her once again, when she was least expecting it.   So this past weekend, for her birthday . . . 

 

 

She says she’s going to save it for my wedding gift.

 

Hallmark Cards Inappropriate for the Occasion.  Picture this: Mother’s Day, 1998. I go into a card shop to pick out a card for Mom.  There was an angry crowd blocking the Mother’s Day section.  Out of frustration, I grabbed the closest card I saw.  I think it was a “Congratulations on Your New Baby Boy!” card.  Ever since, I always give my family members cards that don’t match the occasion.  You get bonus points for out-of-season cards because it requires advance planning. Example: giving a Valentine’s Day card for someone’s birthday in mid-August.  Mom and my brother Justin both had birthdays last week.  Mom got a Happy Halloween card.  Justin received a Happy Kwanzaa card.

 

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Xangans on . . . Men

 

“I’ve decided I don’t need a man.  In related news, I got a new showerhead today.” – RainingAtSunset

 

“They don’t use any instruments, but you would not know the difference – they have one guy that makes all the instrumentation noises needed. All with his mouth. Gosh – his girlfriend must be really, really lucky.” – AbbyNormal

 

‘If you can’t remember her birthday, but you’ve got the Baywatch season premiere in your Palm Pilot, we’re going to feel jilted. Unless you’re the dude from Memento, I don’t think this is too much to ask. Christ, even he jotted things down every once in a while.’ – jroo

  

‘So there I was, a woman torn between her passion to good documentaries and her spousal duties.  Torn, torn, torn.” – IncredibleQuirk

 

“I have a really distinct memory of sitting in the backseat with Jason and for some reason I had one of those finger condoms in my pocket, the ones you use to keep from getting papercuts. I pulled it out and put it on my finger. I turned to him, grinned, and then said with a serious face, ‘Hey, I’ve got a condom.’ He didn’t laugh. Guys never laugh at small penis jokes.” – pinkdegas

 

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I haven’t shaved my legs in two days.  I skipped shaving this morning, thinking I’d wear pants, but I nixed that outfit because of its unexpected, ass-widening properties.  I opted for an ankle-length skirt today, but when I cross my legs, and if you look really, really, really close (not that anyone would), you can see the stubble. I’m not a very hairy person, but I can’t believe how fast the hair on my legs grows during the summer. I bet if I let it go another week, and I’ll be able to French braid it. TheGoddess Fashion Tip #229: Show more cleavage to divert attention from gorilla legs.

 

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10 Reasons Why Fraidy Cat Annoys Me

 

1.  I have a huge bed, but she has a knack lounging on the precise spot that makes me the most uncomfortable.

 

2.  She always has to see my face when I’m sleeping.  I don’t get this at all. Each time I turn over in bed, she gets up and jumps to the other side.

 

3.  She’s a kleptomaniac.  Whenever I’m missing ponytail holders, pens, highlighters, makeup, or my watch, nine times out of ten, she has hidden it under my bed.

 

4.  She drinks from the toilet. I thought that was a dog thing.

 

5.  She can be entertained for hours just by watching the second hand on the wall clock.

 

6.  She sits on the ledge of my tub and watches me shower. Perverted kitty!

 

7.  When I make my bed, she hides underneath and attacks my feet.

 

8.  When I’m working at home, she always sits on the papers I need.

 

9.  When I lay out a dark suit on my bed in the morning, by the time I return from my shower, it is coated with cat hair.

 

10.  She meows angrily every time I pee.  I wonder if that is related to # 4.

 

 

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Xangans on . . . Pets

 

“And on the Seventh Day, Dog Dragged Its Butt round On the Living Room Floor And Lo, It Was Disgusting” – RabidSquirrel

 

“Oh my god mum! Look at this HUGE goldfish? Can we buy him? We could name him Mephistopholies!” – S_Sunshine

 

“My day is off to a shitty start. Both of my cats have diarrhea. I don’t want to go into all of the details, I guess I am in denial.” – MonsVenus

 

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Apparently, I’m playing a little game with the office cleaning staff called “Hide the Trashcan.” No one actually informed me that we were playing, but every morning when I come into my office, my trash can is in a different place. You’d think after four months, they would have run out of hiding places, but they’re crafty! You’d also think after four months, I’d remember we are playing the game, but each morning I throw my empty yogurt container on the floor where the trash can is supposed to be.  Last week, I tried hiding the trashcan under my computer desk, but either (a) that’s not part of the game, or (b) my hiding spot was too difficult, because they just didn’t empty the trashcan.  Sore losers!

 

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Why Japan is Number One

Or, See . . . People DO Read My Blog!

 

Michelle: awhile back, you posted something about public restrooms and your problems with them on your blog.  I read it the other day, and thought you needed to know about some toilet innovations in Japan . . . . Not only do most of their public restrooms have walls that reach all the way to the floor, they are made of some serious painted walls (like countertop material).  They also have the standard bidet, seat warmer, and spray (all adjustable for strength and heat on the console next to the toilet). 

 

Michelle: Last but not least, they have something that will alleviate the principle concern you voiced—they have these things that look like intercom boxes on the wall by the TP.  you push the button, and for about 30-45 seconds, there is a loud flushing noise emitted from the box (the toilet is NOT flushing, its just white noise to cover up *other* noises).  no one ever has to know what happened.

 

Read the Potty Blog HERE.

 

“I’d like to take this moment to discuss the importance

of the courtesy flush.” – thechun

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Channel Surfing with the Goddess

“I love women who like me. That’s a big turn on.” – Adam from The Real World. *CLICK* Bennifer is no more. *CLICK* New Goldfish Crackers jingle: And they’re made with real cheddar / They never have looked better / Bet you never thought one day / you’d eat a purple Goldfish.  Actually, I had no doubts whatsoever. *CLICK* Sue Johanson, the old lady on Oxygen’s Talk Sex, scribbles notes before her callers even begin describing their problems.  What is she writing?! *CLICK* Ben and J-Lo are back. *CLICK* Anyone who didn’t see any of the “twists” on Paradise Hotel coming deserved to be booted off. *CLICK* “ONE! LOUSY! THUMB!”  That line from the Arby’s commercial cracks me up every time.  Often I randomly interject this line into conversation, and that gives me the giggles, but it seems no one else finds it very funny. *CLICK* Ben and Jen: Are they or aren’t they? *CLICK* Did the blonde virgin on The Bachelor really say that she wanted to marry Bob and become his servant?! *CLICK* Who’s in charge of naming hurricanes? Fabian? Henri?! Isabel?! Hurricanes need to have intimidating names like Butch, Spike or Danielle.  Actually, there was a hurricane Danielle in 1998.  I remember my mom cut out all the headlines from the paper: “Danielle wrecks havoc on the East Coast” and “Locals Brace for Danielle.” That kicked ass. *CLICK* If I hear one more reporter mimic Arnold Schwarzenegger’s accent  and/or make a bad pun about his movie Total Recall when discussing California’s recall election, I’m going to throw my TV out the window.  Okay, maybe I won’t do that . . . but I’ll angrily change the channel.

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I really love these new Anne Klein slides I bought, but sometimes they make farting noises when I walk around the office.  I know it is just air pockets, but I’d still like to yell to the nearby secretaries, “That’s not me! It’s my shoes!” I think that would make me look more guilty.  I swear, though, it is the SHOES!

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Best of the Worst Unsolicited Porn Instant Messages

I’ve Received This Week

(links deleted)

 

Riley Maurice 74: Hi jmugoddess! Cum Ride The Bang Bus For FREE! NO credit Card Needed! Whores getting picked up off the street used and abused in the back of the van then kicked to the curb!

 

Camile Rivard 6: Hi jmugoddess! FREE Amateur Ashley! Remember that bitch in high school who seemed like she was nailing everyone except you? Click here to Say hello to Ashley

 

Carolina Canon 2: Hey jmugoddess! We took a video camera to the beach and this is what we got. Some of these girls are just the sexiest little sluts ever! We even caught one masturbating!

 

Phyllis432106307: Hi! My name is Phyllis and I’m an exhibistionist [sic]. I show my pussy everywhere! Don’t believe? Click here and see yourself!

 

Justdorfman: wow, for a moment I was chatting with you and Daff at the same time . . . sort of a naughty Xanga dream of mine.

 

Oops! That last one was from Dorfman. My bad!

 

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More Evidence That I’ve Been Molested By Disney Characters

This was from our Disney trip a year ago, but Mom just got this roll of film developed. Isn’t Tigger’s paw a bit too close to my boobal region?!!

See previous evidence HERE

POP QUIZ!

 

Danielle’s birthday is: 

A.        Today!

B.        Today!

C.        Today!

D.        Everyday should be a celebration of Danielle’s birth.

Highest scorers win two free eprops!

Drive By Blogging

This is a real advertisement I noticed sitting on top of my parents’ mail stack this weekend.  For those of you not from the East coast, BJ’s is a wholesale warehouse, like Costco, Price Club, and Sam’s Club.  Directing focus to recent improvements made to their stores, the latest campaign touts the “Better BJs.”  This makes me snarf Fruity Pebbles every time.

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“I can’t help but notice that posts about my balls garnish the most comments.” – Dorfman

 

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Shameless Comment Whoring

 

Dorfman’s balls.

 

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Portable Purple Pig Sty

In discussing the dangers of riding as a passenger in my car, I realized that my last blog neglected to mention the greatest danger of all:  the risk of being exposed to some deadly, previously-unknown-to-modern-science bacterial growth hidden in the seemingly harmless innards of the Grapemobile. There are two kinds of people in this world: those with clean cars and those with messy ones. Well, I guess there are people who don’t have a car at all, but for purposes of this discussion, let’s forget about them, ok? I’m one of the messy ones.  I’m not sure why.  I don’t keep a messy apartment, so why do I treat my car like a trash can? 

NOW, for a limited time only, I present to you . . . a tour of the inside of my car! Please refer to the descriptive references below.

FRONT

BACK

A. Unusable change permanently stuck together by a mysterious tar-like substance.

 

B.  A dark stain on the passenger seat from an unknown source.  Probably from a former passenger who lost all bowel control upon witnessing my driving skills from a front row seat.

 

C.  A clock that is an hour ahead for half the year. I can never remember how to reset the time. At least 2-3 times a week, I have a minor heart attack thinking I’m late for something.

 

D. ½ inch deep pool of soda and/or coffee settled in bottom of the cup holder after the base of the container eroded.

 

E. Dozens of old printouts of directions from Mapquest. And I still got lost.

 

F.  Hard to see in this picture, but there is a Grateful Dead Dancing Bears sticker on the window.  I like the music, but I’m not a huge fan. The sticker was placed on there in 1997 by an ex-boyfriend who would travel long distances to see their shows.  I kept it because damn those bears are cute!  The only problem is that I keep getting those knowing looks from hardcore GD fans. You know what I mean. 

 

G. Blindspot. Something I rarely check before I change lanes.  Lots of fellow drivers in New City frequently let me know that they think I’m “Number One.”

 

H. Sticky remnants from old inspection and city decals. Does anyone know how to get that shit off?

 

I. Tape deck.  The only tapes I own are mixes made by ex-boyfriends.  Useful for when I’m in the mood for sappy love songs made in the early 90s.  

 

J. Red “check gages” light turned ON. I was really upset when I saw this.  No, not because I almost ran out of gas miles away from a gas station.  I was upset because I was convinced “gages” was a misspelling.  However, both www.dictionary.com and www.m-w.com list “gages” as an alternative spelling of the word “gauges.” My bad.  Still upsets me, though.

 

K. Random purple things.

 

L. Work I always bring home, but that never gets beyond the backseat of my car.

 

M. All-temperature Cheer.  Always thinking about you, cause a love like this won’t fade away . . . Why is it in my car? No clue.

 

N. Used straw wrappers.  Hundreds of them.  If there were a National Convention of Straw Wrappers Collectors, the participants would nominate me as their Queen.  I’d wear a tiara fashioned out of straw wrappers stuck together by the mysterious tar-like substance (See A), and sit on a float in local parades for a nominal fee.  *elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist*

 

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You Know You Are Addicted to Xanga When . . .

Bryan: I think I am going to create my own religion that allows me to prance around the office all day in my tighty-whities shouting, “I am Cornholio!” . . . . Thank you for your concession, finally, that [Name Deleted] is your lover, and that you have limited your liasons to in-person encounters.

TheGoddess: Just for that [Name Deleted] comment, your tighty-whities line is going to be displayed prominently on my website in the very near future…

Bryan: You may want to reconsider. The thought of such a delectably form-fitting outfit on yours truly could very well prove to be so orgasmically overwhelming to your readers as to ultimately result in the complete and untimely meltdown of xanga.com, which I know would result in the end of your existence as you know it.

Risking a Xanga meltdown, I decided to post a picture of Bryan revealing his tighty-whities.  As always, his eyes have been blacked out for his protection.

Number of times someone said to me last week, “Wow! You got some sun!”: 2,182. Sunburn? Oh no. This is much worse.  My skin melted under the fiery hot intensity of a thousand angry Florida suns. This is because my skin is usually paler than a baby’s butt, just not as soft (not that I go around feeling the butts of babies, mind you).

 

“In a related story, the French are now calling American cheese, ‘Idiot cheese.’” – Tina Faye, SNL

 

Will, a thirty-year old dominant male from New York, loves bondage, candles, and bed frames with bars. He likes to use the word “fun” a lot and he thinks “a police officer” is the “celebrity” he resembles the most.  His dream woman must be between 0’ and 4’10”. If you don’t believe me, do a search for “OfficerWill” in the Xanga personals.  I double-dog dare any of you to find a funnier personal ad.  I’d love to see this guy get busted for impersonating a police officer.

 

 

My uncles have a parrot named Digger. It repeats words it hears, so the bird frequently says, “Hello, Digger!” The problem is . . . the bird doesn’t pronounce the D sound very clearly. “Hello, Digger!” sounds like he’s saying . . . something else.  My uncles told me they once hired an African-American nurse to take care of my grandmother, but the nurse quit on her first day.  They tried to explain, but she refused to return. 

 

I think Clay Aiken on American Idol is very sexy.

 

The Axe body spray commercial where one woman says to the other, “I KNOW you’re not touchin’ my mannequin!” cracks me up every time.  I think that will be the next popular catch phrase, replacing “And you wanted to be my latex salesman . . .” from the glory days of Seinfeld. If you haven’t seen this Axe commercial yet, you need to watch more TV. (And then go HERE).

 

 

On the flight to Miami (airport code: M.I.A.), I sat in Row 13.  “Good thing I’m not superstitious,” I thought as I crossed my fingers, threw salt over my shoulder, and tightened my grip on my lucky rabbit’s foot.  Interesting (or maybe not) fact about me:  my biggest fear about flying isn’t terrorism.  I’m worried that the plane will start to fall apart in the air and I’ll get sucked out, seat and all.  I saw that in a made-for-TV movie once and that image has haunted me ever since. Hey, no one said fears had to be rational.

 

In the Miami airport, I overheard a teenaged Spring Breaker say, “I saw this, like, porno or whatever and like, the woman did 500 guys in a row . . . man, even watchin’ it made my vagina hurt.”

 

If you’ve ever shopped at Express, you are probably familiar with Virtual Dollars. For every $50 you spend, you get a $25 coupon.  Catch #1: The coupon is only good for a short period of time . . . about a month after your initial purchase.  Of course, I always forget about my Virtual Dollars until after they’ve expired.  This last time, however, I swore I wouldn’t forget. I taped my Dollars to the fridge to remind myself.  The day finally arrived, and I proudly walked into Express to redeem my $50 worth of free clothes. Catch #2:  I had to spend $100 (pre-tax) to redeem the $50 worth of coupons, but everything at Express was priced at $69 and $29.  To get my $50 worth of “free” clothes, I ended up spending $80.  I’m a sucker.

 

I was really touched by how many of you commented on my last entry and expressed concern over my colon health.  I promise to poop more often.  Mmmmm, fiber.

 

After a full day of shopping on Sanibel Island, my mom realized she was wearing two different colored shoes. One black, one brown.  I told the saleslady at the store and she proceeded to tell the other employees.  Everyone laughed at my mom, but that’s what she gets for throwing away my overly worn, too small, faded pink Strawberry Shortcake sneakers that I loved to wear when I was seven.  Yeah, you thought I forgot about that, didn’t you, Mom?!  In her defense, she bought me a similar pair for Valentine’s Day this past February, but oddly enough, they only come in kids’ sizes.

 

In my opinion, blowing your nose around others is like wiping your ass in public. That’s just nasty.

 

I called the Gateway Tech Support line last night after receiving this disturbing error message:  “Physical memory dump completed.” When it comes to my brand new laptop, I never want to see the words “memory” and “dump” used together.  Surprisingly, the tech guy was very helpful and fixed the problem in less than two minutes (uh, he told me to turn off my computer).  Then he tried to persuade me to purchase an extended warranty.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him no, so I waited until he put me on hold and then I hung up.  He called me back.  Creepy.  But he didn’t leave a message.  I hate that!  

 

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Meet Jordan. She’s my seven-year old niece.   

 

 

She’s the funniest kid on the planet. My proof:

 

Last week, Jordan announced, “I can do my report on any famous person I want.  I think I am going to do it on Albert Einstein or Frankenstein.” Jordan pronounced Frankenstein as if it were two words: Frank Enstein.  I guess, to a seven year old, it is entirely plausible that Albert Einstein had a brother named Frank.

 

Heidi (to Jordan in tub): Gross! You have a zit on your butt!

Jordan: (laughs)

Heidi: It’s not funny. It means you have a dirty butt.

Jordan: (suddenly very serious, pauses) Well then, you have a dirty face!

 

Rick is Jordan’s invisible husband.  Invisible, but not imaginary, as she is quick to point out. According to Jordan, they’ve had thirty babies:

 

Jordan: Mom, get out of my bed. You’re squishing Rick.

Heidi: Rick shouldn’t be in your bed anyway. You’re too young to have sex.

Jordan: We don’t have sex.

Heidi: Well, then how did you end up with all those babies? You can’t have babies without having sex.

Jordan: Well … Rick is the one having all the sex. I keep my sex in a jar.

 

“I don’t have homework because tomorrow is veterinarian’s day.” – Jordan, November 4, 2002 

 

Heidi:  Jordan, you have your undies on backwards again.

Jordan:  Oh, I can never get this right.

Heidi:  Just look at the underwear.  The side that is shaped like a V goes in front.  V for vagina, in the front.

Jordan: (weird face, eye roll) Bagina starts with B!

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Xanga Funnies

“i flooded a KFC restroom. when i stepped out, a woman was on her way in [the men's was broken already] and i have never been so ashamed of myself. i ran out onto the street and zig zagged as i ran, behind cars and stores and pedestrians for twenty minutes, so if she was following me i’d lose her easily because i am a fucking toilet clogging ninja.” – LeXXus

 

“When you find yourself sucking Diet Coke off your keyboard, that’s probably a good sign that you have a caffeine problem, not to mention a serious deficiency in judgment.” – tinyrage  

 

“If someday I become a mass murderer and massacre half of the world, you should all remember this day when you read my words.  Whatever the media may tell you, you will know the truth.  It was because they did not buy me a cat.” – Megily

 

“Honestly, I think I’d even welcome seeing Waldo the Window Wanker right now. I can sit on the couch clipping my toenails in my underwear and he can resume his position in front of my window, jerking off. Sure it’d be disturbing again, but hey, at least i’ll have company!” – fruitopia_24

 

FlashFiction writes some of the funniest blogs on Xanga.  And the shortest. I couldn’t pick just one of his blogs to quote here, so go there and read the whole damn thing.

 

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I was gone for a while, but now I’m back.

Thanks for all the emails and IMs! *muah*

Potty Talk

Inspired by Tej and OpheliaBedilia

 

Deconstructing the Myth: Contrary to what you’ve seen on Ally McBeal, most law firms do not have unisex bathrooms. 

 

I wonder what would happen if I decorated one of the stalls in the ladies’ bathroom at work? Or, even better, one of the stalls in the men’s bathroom? You know . . . put a fuzzy toilet seat cover on the lid, toss a matching rug on the floor, and replace the hard toilet seat with the soft, mushy kind that makes a farting noise as it conforms to the shape of your buttocks?

 

Hmm.  File that one away for April 1^st.

 

I have some serious bathroom quirks. Strange, considering I find THIS absolutely hysterical.  Some men joke about how women go to the bathroom in groups. Not me! I hate having to use public restrooms because of the lack of privacy. Would you ever stand next to someone you barely know as they use the restroom? No? Then why is it when we erect an inch-thick barrier between toilets, we think this behavior is acceptable? It isn’t.

 

I am not alone in feeling this way.  A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless *cough*ManfredKuntz*cough* goes out of his way to use a relatively secret private bathroom on a different floor at his office (guess it is not a secret anymore – oops!).  In most workplaces, however, employees are not afforded the luxury of privacy.  This brings me to the very important One-Stall Buffer Zone Rule: when you go to the bathroom and discover – to your horror – that someone is already in there, make the best out of a bad situation and always choose the stall that is the farthest away from your bathroom mate.  Men, with their urinal experience, are well-trained in this area.  The same rules should apply to women. For hours of family fun while learning more about advanced bathroom etiquette, play:

 

The Urinal Game

 

The funniest thing about that game is how some of the characters aren’t using their hands.

 

But I digress.

In most women’s bathrooms, the walls between the stalls don’t even go down to the floor. I’m not sure why that is, other than to pass toilet paper to your bathroom-buddy if they should discover (mid-pee) that they are without. I hate that gap because everyone can see your shoes. Maybe I’m weird (this has been hypothesized many times over), but I can always tell who is sitting in the stall next to me just by looking down at their shoes. If people are forced to take care of the dirty business in close proximity, they should at least get SOME feeling of anonymity. 

 

My proposed solution: stock up each stall with a year’s supply of Charmin and between the stalls erect a two-foot thick, floor-to-ceiling wall of concrete and steel covered in sound-proofing materal.

Oddly, there are some women that don’t seem to mind the lack of privacy. In fact, they see bathroom time as a “bonding experience.” Maybe THIS is the reason why I don’t have many close female friends!!  I simply cannot carry on a conversation with my bathroom stall neighbor as if we were merely waiting in line at the grocery store.

Even worse, I have a shy bladder so I sometimes have problems “starting the deal” when I suspect there is anyone within earshot of the bathroom. I have to wait until they leave before I can begin.  The women I find most annoying are those who finish their bathroom business, but spend ages primping in front of the mirror.  Wash your hands, check your nose for HB’s (you can figure out what that means), and get out of there!

Every now and then, there will be a woman in the other stall with the same bathroom quirks as mine. The two of us will sit there silently, as if we are playing the “who will blink first” game, just waiting for the other to leave. I usually am the winner of such standoffs, but if my opponent is stubborn and I really need to go, I’ll just flush (purely for show), wash my hands, and go to an empty (hopefully) bathroom on a different floor.

This quirk of mine extends beyond public bathrooms as well. I absolutely, positively, without question, under no condition, CANNOT do the dirty business in someone else’s home, or when someone is in my home. Fortunately, I can go for days without doing Le Nombre Deux (sounds fancy in French, n’est pas?). 

 

 

 

Xanga Notable Quotables

 

“I discovered that if you are buying a Valentines Day gift on the clearance rack its best to go out of town. Because when hubby walks in with the EXACT same gift for you, you will both be ticked off. I at least had the courtesy to remove the price tag.” – LonaMay

 

“Today is Valentine’s Day. I told my wife that we should go out and get each other’s names tattooed on some intimate parts of our bodies. She disagreed. I guess romance really is dead, oh well.”  - otherbrotherdarrell 

 

“I don’t want something that touches his junk touching my junk.” – Duckyguy

 

“Whores attacked my bus stop last night! What’s my proof? An empty dime bag and a bunch of broken press-on nails strewn throughout the bus shelter. Who needs more proof than that??” – goMetric

 

“Think back to the last time you copulated…..think of a good OH MY GOD I’M GONNA CUMMMMMMMM!!!!!!! It just works, kinda like peanut butter and bananas. So here’s what I need to know: What in the fuck do Atheists say when they’re getting their fuck on?” – SuperGlueLogic 

 

 Monday Commute Blog: 

10 Rules for Riding the D.C. Metro

 

1.  Riding the Metro escalator is like driving: the left side is the passing lane.  If you are too lazy to walk up (and in some cases, walk down) the escalator, please stand to the right.  If you block the left lane and someone (like ME) trying to pass you says, “Excuse me,” please don’t pretend like you’ve suddenly gone deaf.  You know you heard me.

 

2.  The purpose of the poles in the aisles of the trains is to allow many standing Metro riders to hold on for balance. They are not stripper poles.  Therefore, please refrain from leaning your entire body (especially your ass) against them.  That would be my hand your mushy left buttock is crushing, thanks.

 

3.  Don’t sneeze into your hand and then place your hand back on the pole.  If you don’t have a tissue, pretend to search for something in your pocket and discreetly wipe the mucus from your palm into the inner lining.  Keep it there.

 

4.  Bathe. More specifically, bathe using soap and water, not cologne.

 

5.  There are two types of Metro cards: paper and plastic.  All the cool kids use the plastic cards. Oddly, of the three machines that allow you to purchase a paper Metro card, only one of those machines allows you to add money to a plastic Metro card.  If you insist on purchasing the annoying paper cards and all three machines are open, please do not use the only machine that allows you to add money to a plastic card.  If you do, have the decency to apologize to the five plastic card holders now glaring at the back of your head as they are forced to wait in line behind you.

 

6.  Don’t look over my shoulder to see what I’m reading.  Bring your own damn book.

 

7.  On occasion, people must pack themselves into the trains like sardines.  However, don’t take advantage of this opportunity to “accidentally” cop a feel.  If you do, I might “accidentally” kick you in the nuts.

 

8.  When the train is crowded, don’t say, “Wow, the train sure is crowded!”

 

9.  The GREEN arrow sign means that exit is available.  A RED line sign means that exit is NOT available.  If you memorize these two facts, you won’t find yourself staring dumbly at an unavailable exit, announcing (to no one in particular), “But it won’t take my card!”

 

10.  Please be fully clothed when riding the Metro.  I never thought I’d have to say that, but that was before one winter when I encountered a crazy woman on the Metro who was naked from the waist down. Ew. 

 

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Funny Stuff I’ve Read On Xanga:

 

“So I’m walking to the bus stop and see a pink square wrapped in plastic, lightly dusted with snow on ground just ahead of me. Thinking that it was a feminine product of some sort, I got excited and jumped straight at it.  I mean, c’mon, free feminine product!” - ALLLGooD

 

“What exactly does an orgasm feel like and how do i know i’ve had one? well, you are in xanga right? imagine posting just one sentence and then the next day you get 1000 eprops. THAT is what an orgasm feels like, only receiving the eprops feels better.” – virgilmvx

 

“I ran track for 3 years.  I use the term “ran” loosely.  I won a plaque for ‘Most Inspirational’ for the long jump and triple jump squad.  To win the ‘Most Inspirational’ award is comparable to having a movie made of your life, and calling it ‘Mask’. Except I would have Pat Morita playing my mom instead of Cher.” – cerveza

 

“ive never been with a woman, pulled down her panties… and found her wearing an anal bauble. are there really hordes of people out there sporting butt bling?” – deadstar

 

“The subtext is becoming text. When things are rapidly degenerating from allusions into outright topics of conversation. Such as: “I just love that skirt. Is it Prada?” “No, it’s actually just a knock off.” “Oh, the horror. I wouldn’t be letting it touch my skin.” “Maybe I should just take it off, then.” “Maybe, indeed.” “So let’s just fuck then?” “Yes, lets. I’ve got the handcuffs and the anal beads.”" – the8rgrl

 

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Reason #238 Why You Must Be Careful

What You Say Around Kids

 

“Mommy, what’s camel toe?” – Jordan, my seven-year-old niece

 

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P.S.  In case you missed my last blog, you can find parts of it HERE and HERE. *smirk*

 

 

The Stupidest People on TV

Inspired by recent IM conversations with LaVieEstBelle and Deadstar

 

Winner:  Evan from “Joe Millionaire” (link courtesy of BrokenIndigo)

 

He didn’t know salmon is a fish.  It took him two minutes to come up with a fake middle name.  Instead of saying ‘interested’, he says ‘inner-rested’. He had to spit out his gum before he tasted the fois gras. And while he laments that he wants a woman who likes him for him and not his [fake] money, he picks women based on rationales like, “Well, she looked really hot in that red bustier.”

 

On the one hand, I understand why Fox picked this guy.  Other than his money (and maybe his looks, arguably), he has no redeeming qualities. If the point of the show is to make the women look foolish, then Evan is the perfect Joe Millionaire.  On the other hand, couldn’t Fox find someone that had enough brains to keep the big secret of the show under wraps?

 

In one of those rare moments when Evan managed to string together more than two complete sentences, he uttered this gem: “Three weeks ago I was driving a bulldozer…”

 

Oops! The show, of course, is based on the premise that Evan inherited fifty million dollars two years ago.  So how did the brilliant Evan manage to recover from that devastating faux pas (Evan, if you accidentally stumbled across this entry while surfing for internet porn, ‘faux pas’ is French for “boo boo”)?

 

“I mean two years ago,” he stammered.

 

*shakes head*

 

Zora, one of the women on Joe Millionaire, almost made this list because she didn’t give a second thought to Evan’s pathetic attempt to cover up his mistake.  I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt, however, and I’ll assume she didn’t notice because she tuned out Evan’s monotonous, monosyllabic caveman voice hours earlier.

 

First runner-up: Anyone who (willingly) agreed to be on the upcoming Fox reality series Married By America.  I can only hope that the soon-to-be-newlyweds demanded a provision in their contracts requiring Fox to pay for the costs and fees associated with the divorce proceedings.  

 

Second runner-up: A couple on HBO’s latest Taxicab Confessions.

 

While vacationing in Vegas, this young couple climbs into the back of a taxicab with a yard of margarita in hand.  Compelled by the inexplicable desire to discuss their personal life with the driver, a complete stranger (and, unbeknownst to them at the time, millions of HBO viewers), the couple reveals that during their four and a half year relationship, the guy cheated on the girl at least eight times.  In an unexpected turn of events, the couple goes from arguing about what actually constitutes cheating to discussing whether they ought to get married:

 

Girl: “Marriage is forever, you know.”

Guy: “Yeah, that’s fine by me.  It ain’t like I got nothing else to do.”

 

And she said yes. Who said romance was dead?

 

Speaking of romance (brilliant segue, no?), Valentine’s Day just around the corner. Being that I’m in a perpetual state of boyfriendlessness, I have no use for this holiday at this time (*sigh*). However, for you ladies who are currently coupled, I thought I’d suggest a great gift idea for the man who has almost everything:

 

Style Watch ’03: The Latest in Men’s Intimate Fashions

 

 

Elephant Man!

 

 

If you push a button, it actually moos. I wonder where the button is?

 

The box says, “Goodness! Gracious! Great BALLS of Fire!”

 

 

[Insert Sarcastic Comment Here]

 

And finally . . .

 

Funny Stuff I’ve Read on Xanga Lately:

(Or, “Because I’m Too Lazy to Write My Own Funny Shit”)

 

“Even if you were one of the minority who did not desire to suck your own d*ck, if you were the victim of a horrible accident that left you disfigured and without hands you would eventually break down and please yourself the only way you could.” – studiorat

 

“I know it seems strange that Allan’s family members would give him pornos. They’re really open like that. They were actually pornos that they didn’t like, so they gave it to him. Oh the joys of hand me downs.” – LaVieEstBelle

 

“(I’m quite anxious to master that whole public-masturbatory-hands-free orgasm I’ve heard tell so much of, so if any possessors of such a feat is reading this blog, please share.)” – Daffodilious

 

“There aren’t any such things, as far as I know, as “porn apprentices” or “porn character actors” or anything of that sort. Nope. Even the guy who watches and makes faces is a porn star. I’m guessing that’s probably the best thing about the job. The actual work probably isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m guessing as soon as the director says, “cut”, the first thing you hear from everyone is, “eeewwwww!”" - forklift

 

“I’m toasting my sperm by wearing thermal underwear.” – LawyerMike

 

“I’ve spent the bulk of my adult life trying to discover the source of my emotional ills.  Up to now I have assumed that source to be the fact that I was circumcised as an infant.  Of course I have no recollection of this event, but I can’t help but attribute the painful crevice in my soul to my long lost foreskin” – shortpants 

 

“When I say this same thing to my son, it throws the Gigantic Male Teenage Insane Driving Gland — or GMTIDG — into action. With him, when I say, “Ok, adjust your mirrors and then, when you’re ready, start the car” what he actually hears — thanks to the GMTIDG — is “YOU ARE NOW THE CAPTAIN OF THE U.S.S. DEATHBLASTER AND ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO SEEK OUT AND DESTROY ANYTHING THAT MOVES AND MOST THINGS THAT ARE JUST SITTING THERE MINDING THEIR OWN BUSINESS, LIKE MAILBOXES AND CONGRESS.” - middleageguy 

 

 ”I hate the IRS. Phuckers. Ruined my fortieth birthday . . . Ruined spring break last year . . . And now the phucking flaming assholes ruined Reality tv night.” – Lona May

 

Go wish MidoriSour a Happy Birthday!

Verizon is the Corporate Tool of Satan

All I wanted to do was install a wireless router and network my laptop with my PC. Verizon promised me that the self-installation process would be easy. How could I be so gullible?

The package from Verizon arrived on Friday. Unfortunately, they did not send me the wireless network PC card for my laptop. This, of course, defeated the purpose of ordering the wireless router in the first place, but I digress. I tried to install the router and received an error message. So I called Verizon.

Tech “Help” Guy Number 1

He was nice, but clueless. When I told him about the error message, he told me I hadn’t done anything wrong, but Verizon DSL was down in my area. When I got off the phone, I discovered DSL was not down. So I called back.

Tech “Help” Guy Number 2

He wouldn’t even talk to me! He insisted that Verizon doesn’t offer tech support for home networking and I’d have to call Linksys (the manufacturer of the router). I pointed out that Verizon sent me the equipment. In addition, the included “easy installation” poster said, “If you have any problems with installation, please call Verizon.” I guess they were just kidding.

Tech “Help” Guy Number 3

He was the worst.  If I had to psychoanalzye him, I’d say that he is accustomed to knowing all the answers, but when confronted with a computer problem he cannot solve, he masks his own ignorance with a condescending attitude and shocking rudeness.  Two examples:

He tried to convince me that I am not a Verizon DSL customer.

Me: Yes, I am.
Guy: Are you sure?
Me: I have been for two years.
Guy: I don’t think so. When was the last time you used our DSL service?
Me: I’m online right NOW.
Guy: *pause* Let me put you on hold for two minutes.

TWENTY minutes later, he came back and said that the router was not compatible with my internal modem.

Me: But my modem is not internal.
Guy: Yes it is.
Me: No, it’s not.
Guy: Describe it to me.
Me: Are you kidding me?! *frustrated sigh* It is about 7 by 4 inches with a plastic cover and it is OUTSIDE of my computer. It is an external modem.
Guy: *pause* The router is not compatible with those modems.
Me: But Verizon sent me this modem.
Guy: No, they didn’t.
Me: Yes, they did! Why would I make that up?
Guy: I don’t know. The router is not compatible with internal modems.

*bangs head on now-useless wireless router*

I managed (finally) to properly install the router with the assistance of a Linksys tech support person. Unfortunately, this was only after I had been on hold for an hour. But my call was important to them. They thanked me for my patience and assured me that the next available service representative would assist me in the order in which my call was received.

Total amount of my life wasted on the phone while holding, talking to Linksys, or chewing out rude Verizon employees: 5 hours and 17 minutes.

Now I just need to get Verizon to send me the wireless PC card for my laptop. Then I’ll be able to blog from anywhere in my apartment. Just think: next week’s blog might be written while I’m on the toilet!

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Funny Stuff I Read on Xanga Last Week
(taken totally out of context)

“Now if I can just figure out who this bra belongs to, maybe I can avoid an awkward Jan. 2.”  – cowboybone

“I need to build a bevy of beauties looking for a strictly physical relationship, with absolutely no emotional attachment. Dinner will be provided, but please… bring your own toothbrush. Sleeping over is optional, not a requirement. T-shirts will be awarded for level of freakiness available. Thank you”  - ReverendDel

“boy do i hate having to share the planet with other people.” – rache

“If Jesus were alive today, he’d be more than 2000 years old and probably not very energetic, but I like to think that he’d be getting into the xmas swing of things and looking forward to getting lots of presents on his birthday. Which, come to think of it, must be a bit of a bummer for him; having his birthday on Christmas Day and all.” -Bobsleftnut

“Hey, I just noticed, when I take off my shoes, it smells like movie theater popcorn.” – vengeful_grape

“I hope you all have a shitty New Years.” – Beek

“And guess what guys? See, when you kiss ass like I do (telling your boss that you’re going to take his son’s cherry if he keeps talking about your parents having sex), show responsibility and loyalty like I do (constantly checking my comments from my blog at Xanga), you get what… A RAISE! I am so good – I totally know how to play that guilt card. And Milton Bradley’s SORRY.” – cerveza

“Kim: ‘I’m really not that anal retentive. Control freak perhaps…but come on!’ Carrie: ‘Kim, you segregate skittles before eating them.’” – Coriander

“I’ve been trying to come up with some New Year’s resolutions, but my dark side keeps intervening. So far, I had resolved to crush all who opposed me, until someone pointed out that resolutions were for personal improvement, rather than personal satisfaction. Sigh. People really can suck all the fun out of anything.” – Jeromycraig

“I have a hole in my pants right over where my left testicle would be.” - studiorat

Lessons Learned in 2002

1.  People tend to get very upset if you kidnap their Stone Cold Steve Austin doll, dress it up in a pretty purple princess outfit, and allow a Ken doll to have his way with it. 

2.  I am more likely to get asked out by complete strangers when I don’t wear a bra.

3.  Some people will believe anything they read in my blog.

4.  In order to fight the sexism rampant in Xangaland, it is important to give men like Wally the gift of premium.

5.  Take risks, but realize if you go to a stylist who never has any other clients but you, you might leave the salon with orange hair.

6.  It is important to be respectful of the different beliefs of others. For example, some people actually like the Joe Boxer guy.

7.  Don’t wear button-down blouses unless you want to flash strangers (or your former law professors) on the Metro.

8.  Donald Duck is a perverted, pantless child molester.

9.  The plural form of the candy Spree is Spree, not Sprees. And never side with a guy named Cooter.

10.  Ben Affleck has bad taste. And the surest way to get a lot of e-props is to post an unflattering picture of J-Lo.

11.  Reality TV is entertaining because no matter how badly you feel about yourself, you feel so much better after watching the people on these shows.

12.  A man is not truly naked if he’s still wearing socks.

Happy New Year!