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Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

I Like To Call This "Christmas Comes Early This Year"

Eat your hearts out ladies.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Bad Girls Go To Hell

The beauty of having nieces and nephews is that you get some of the joys of being a parent without the drawbacks of having to actually give birth or take responsibility for the children. Nieces and nephews are like fun young playmates that go home at the end of the day. I promise you that in the future, I will never ever refer to a family member or anyone else as a 'fun young playmate.'

The downside of having nieces and nephews is that you will be expected to babysit and at one point or another you WILL get put in a position where you have to become a parent without any of the necessary training that goes along with such a position. This was the case two weeks ago when my sister "fell faint" as they say in Laura Ingalls Wilder books and I was in charge of taking care of her 7 year old daughter who, most of the time, is the closest thing to an angel this poor, sad world has ever seen. But this was not most of the time, and I know it's wrong to think of a seven year old as a bitch, but seriously, no other word comes to mind except for hatefulbitch (it's German), which is even worse.

I don't know if it was the tides or the moon or the lust to feast on human souls that sometimes strikes an underage demon from deep within, but whatever the cause, this kid was a wreck. The screaming I could take. The throwing things I could take. The stomping and locking herself in her room and kicking her brother and telling me that she hated me...all of these things I could take. What I could not take was the level crimson attitude which I am positive was nothing more than karma from my teenage years coming back to bite me in the proverbial rear end.

So after 3 hours of taking crap, when lucifer's cutest spawn told me that she didn't ever have to help anyone clear the table "because do you know what I have? I have 2 credit cards. I have a check book. I have a cell phone. And people like me don't have to talk to you,"
I did what any good, loving parent who was arm-deep trying to clear out the garbage disposal would do...I covered young Satanette with a handful of whatever was in my sister's drain.

She gasped. I gasped. And we both just looked at each other in total silence as old egg whites and leftover lentils oozed out of her hair and down the back of her shirt. Nobody said a word for at least two whole minutes. I didn't know whether to feel horrible that I had literally covered a 7 year old in food waste or awesome that I had brought about two tude-free minutes by whatever means necessary.

Finally I just went over, hugged her, wiped her face off, and put her in time out for ten minutes while I finished cleaning up. As soon as she got up, we had no problems at all and after a quick bath, the night ended with high fives and a rousing game of Shrek 2 Monopoly Junior. Tucking her in, she whispered, "It's fun when you come over Chris" and it was only then that I began to feel sick with guilt.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Right this very second I'm sitting in a nonprofit agency, using their Wi-Fi and eating their free candy while doing research on ways that women can make their nipples more sensitive as the song "It's the Stuff that Dreams are Made of" plays in the background.

Oh life, there you go writing your own soundtrack.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Here's the thing about living together: sometimes it's both fantastic and awful. Tonight I went to see The Exorcism of Emily Rose at my favorite movie theatre in the entire world and right now, at 3:20 in the morning (I usually work nights), I am literally sitting here writing to you good people, sincerely afraid that, yes you guessed it, the devil might be coming after me right this minute. The smart thing to do would be to hold on to your significant other and hope, maybe even pray, that the holy power of love is enough to repel the forces of darkness, sending them back to the crevices of evil from wence they came. That plan sounds like a good idea except I know that if I go crawling with fear into the room "where all the magic happens," my significant other is going to look at me and say, "That's why I don't go to scary movies," which really means "Look at me and what good decisions I make. Don't you wish you made decisions as well as I do? Hmmm?" and then I'll be forced to return to my office (where the holy power of love is not to be found) and play Nesticle games and heavily weigh whether Satan or my boyfriend is more asinine.

Relying on my own demon-hunting prowess, I keep looking for signs that the Dark Lord might try to infiltrate this fine-ass body of mine. So far what's happened tonight is:

1) The ice maker came on, prompting me to ask is the devil in my fridge?
I found a highlighter while rummaging through a closet, is God sending me a sign?
My cold sore continued hurting...this is the only one that hasn't warranted spiritual questioning.

When I don't make my deadlines tomorrow and I have to tell a contractor, "yeah, I couldn't get this turned in because I was sincerely afraid that the devil might possess me," I actually might just change my name and move to a new state out of humiliation. The children are right to laugh at you Couch.

Monday, November 14, 2005

A Few Highlights From the Conference I Attended Yesterday

1. Free cotton candy
2. Someone calling my hands "small, but not freakish."
3. Someone referring to their second grade teacher as "Rosa-Lee Bitch"
4. Instantly falling in love when one of the speakers said, "Yeah, I used to work for Troma."
5. Did I mention the free cotton candy? Because there was definitely that.

Friday, November 11, 2005

This made me laugh today.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Sometimes Justice Is A Baseball Bat

I don't know how many of you have the luxury/horribly lonely situation of working directly from your own home, but those of you who do probably already know about the fantastically trashy bastion of courtroom reality show goodness that is Eye For An Eye. The basic premise of Eye For An Eye is simple: Two parties bring their legal disputes to the courtroom of Judge Extreme Akim who hears both sides of the case and dispenses a fair and vengeful creative punishment using the Bat of Justice pictured here:

I'm not sure if it was the fact that the program is produced by National Lampoon's, the fact that Kato Kaelin is the host, or the fact that last time I saw this program I witnessed two African American women cover each other in maple syrup in a wrestling ring before pillow fighting and as soon as I viewed said black women covered in what looked like something strikingly close to tar and feathers, I felt very VERY uncomfortable...whatever the reason, I do know that when I watch Eye For An Eye, I feel a certain peace knowing that somewhere problems are getting solved, even if it is with the aid of a baseball bat with the word "JUSTICE" stenciled on.

Unfortunately, life doesn't always give you the benefit of a wise, learn-ed sage like Extreme Akim to resolve your problems. Instead you must rely on your inner bat of justice (lower case) to help you work through difficulties. Recently I've been feeling a complete lack of purpose which is only a productive thing if you're in an angsty indie rock band (indie chicks LOVE tattoos and purposelessness). Otherwise, it's just lame and takes a backseat to people with real issues like poverty and illiteracy and sweat gland problems. Still every time I pass someone on the street who looks even a little pulled together, I can't help but wonder if they secretly know what they're supposed to be doing in life. Maybe they got the existential memo I missed and I actually am the only human being on earth who wanders around feeling teenager-level confused. (This is the point where someone offers me a crazy road trip to an unknown destination and on the way we meet boys and try on a bunch of outfits and learn a little bit about life, and a lot about ourselves).

Through this time of fear and uncertainty, I do know that I can always rely on the good judge, a baseball bat, and a full hour of problem-solvin entertainment delivered every single day. Sometimes it's the little things that count.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Confessions of a Cheap Bastard

Yesterday morning I stumbled into the kitchen in a groggy haze to find a big mouse (we don't use the R word in this house) running across the floor. Instead of being freaked out that there were vermin in my home, the first thing I thought of was "I can't believe something is mooching off of our utilities." Ladies and gentlemen, THAT is how cheap I truly am.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Conversations From Today

Boyfriend: I'm sorry. I'm not nearly as funny as I think I am.

Me: You ARE funny. You make me laugh. And smile. And feeeeeeeeeeeeel like a nat-u-ral wo-man (woman) YOU MAKE ME FEEL!!!!! [sung at top of lungs accompanied by wild pointing] YOU MAKE ME FEEL!!!!!! [continue gesturing wildly singing totally off key] YOU MAKE ME...

Boyfriend: I would love to make you feel like a nat-u-ral woman, but the dinner isn't sitting well and quite frankly I'd be afraid of pooping on you.

[Complete and total uncomfortable silence for at least three whole minutes]

Boyfriend: Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Friday, November 04, 2005

And the Winner Is...

For all the talent my boyfriend has in the kitchen - and boy howdy does that kid have some talent - I am equally as gifted when it comes to finding the awesomely bad. I'll just go ahead and admit it. Finding weird shit is my mutant power [takes bow]. Naturally when Chris and I had friends over for a dinner/low-budget horror movie night, I was the one sent to ye olde video store to find the recorded gem that would rank just as high on the awesomely bad scale as the boyfriend's pork and porcini mushroom ragu served with white asparagus and home-made pumpkin pie ice cream scored on the gastronomic scale. The bar was set high, so I set off early to do what I had to do.

Entering "Cockbuster," as I heard an eighth grade boy call it once, I could feel an awesomely bad electricity in the air...I would indeed find my prize tonight and the glory of the B-rated movie would be savored and celebrated by all. After sifting through some early 90's movie about prison lesbians that get trapped in a demon brothel and The Ice Cream Man, a film which can best be described simply by showing you this picture:

I mean honestly, there are eyeballs right in that crazy man's ice cream, what further reason do you need to take that movie home? I saw it...just sitting there among the other cinematic dullards...the film that would change awesomely bad movie-watching history:


I knew from the box cover that BOA VERSUS PYTHON was going to be good because it had all of the hallmarks of a fantastically absurd film:

* Has the word "versus" in the title: Check
* Contains the phrase "Made for TV": Check
* Looks more like a video game than an actual film: Check, exhibit A:
* Absurd premise: Check, "When a gigantic python gets loose on a private reserve, the FBI must release an equally large boa to track and capture it as a group of wealthy big game hunters try to bag the python as a trophy for themselves."
* Cleavage right on the box cover: Check, exhibit B:
Not one of the film's 91 minutes of glory was a disappointment. My favorite part of BOA VERSUS PYTHON was that there was no pretense. The cinematic geniuses behind this work of brilliance don't try to bojangle around with a time-consuming plot introduction. No sir. In the first 5 minutes of the film you find out that there is ABSOLUTELY NO WAY IN HELL that the FBI can catch a big honkin snake other than to release an equally large big honkin snake on its trail. They don't even waste your time with trying to find an alternative solution, they jump straight into the red-hot snake on snake action. Other highlights include:

* Soapy tits shown in first 10 minutes.
* Scene in which a mammouth snake eats a woman out before eating her up.
* Presence of a 30 year-old blonde big-breasted scientist who you might have seen on various episodes of The Red Shoe Diaries.
* Emotionally gripping scene in which a freakishly large snake undergoes important surgery. Bring tissues.
* Terrible low budget graphics.
* Scene in which two snakes rip a man apart and fight over his carcass.
* Main character getting ripped apart via subway car.
* No scene involving snakes getting shot by helicopter or being in the city at all as the box cover would indicate.
* Almost entirely Russian cast and crew.

Full of good food and enough novelty to last us until next Halloween, the boyfriend and I exchanged high-fives over a job well done. Showing the world what you're truly capable of is a satisfying feeling.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Overheard This Weekend

Friend #1: Ok, you can't just write "Cockvember" on the calendar. It doesn't work like that this month.

Friend #2: Oh yes it does.

Welcome to Cockvember everyone.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Love Is All Around

There are times when I step back from my infinite bitching and notice, yes, I really do have a fantastic life. What makes said life so fantastic is the abundance of loving, supportive people I call friends. From this group of individuals, I've learned the true meaning of love. Love is when someone is there for you when you're feeling low. Love is having someone by your side when the rest of the world turns away. Love is taking you to some random girl's house that you've never met before when you don't have a Halloween costume and dressing you up in her slutty clothes so that you can go to a bar dressed as a flasher in the middle of the night to dance your ass off to an 80's cover band that are all dressed like Dee Snyder and smell like the bog of eternal stench then buying you an ice cream candy bar with the prize money from a costume contest and falling asleep next to you while watching the pygmy fight scene in The Rundown. That's the textbook definition of love. That's what makes the world go round.

Visual image of what makes the world go round:
I love this picture because when I stole it from a friend's online profile, it was already saved as "A Whale's Vagina." More pictures to come as soon as I track down who's got em. Stay classy internet community.