Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
-We got stuck in the snow getting into the parking lot on the way in...and then we got stuck in the snow getting out of the parking lot as we were leaving.
-I slipped on the way to the front door and almost bit it, had I not slammed into my brother first. Good thing he was able to hold both of us up.
-The person (or persons, I'm not sure) who sat in the pew in front of me smelled like she took a flying leap into a vat of perfume concentrate, marinated for a few days, got out got dressed and then...just for good measure...decided to spritz on a couple more ounces.
-The baby in the pew behind me apparently had an ingrained fascination with long black hair. MY long black hair! And yes, it was cute the first 30 or so times he pulled on it...but the next 100 or so times not so much! What annoyed me more was the mom who apparently thought it was so darling and sweet for the little tyke to be playing with the nice lady (what nice lady?? oh you mean me?!?!) that she didn't do anything to stop it. Well you know what annoying little tyke and equally annoying mother?!?! Graham cracker bits and baby spit dries like cement. Ask me how I know...g'head...ASK!!
-The people sitting next to me? 4 giggly teenage girls...'nuff said.
The only thing good about my whole experience (other than receiving the word of God of course) was that we got to sing "What Child is This" during the communion which has been one of my favorite songs to sing at church since I was young. Why? Because it's the only time you can say "ass" in the house of the Lord without feeling like having to go to confession afterwards hehehe.
Bob, Me, and our friend Jay.
R.I.P. Robert Day III, December 3rd, 2008
P.S. Sorry if I brought anyone down, but I figured if I snuck it in at the end, no one would really notice.
Anyway, here are some pics. Because I have nothing else to post. Unless you guys would like to hear about my 19 hours straight of sleep...or the color of the phlegm I hacked up constantly the last 3 days...or the chunk vs. fluid ratio of my stomach contents as they came up to say hi to me the second time around.
Or we can just go on with the pictures...
This year's snowman! Yes, I did manage to bundle myself up, haul my rear outside and help the parents and the littlest bro-han make a snowman. Which, now that I think about it, was the last day I was well so the 6 hours outside probably got me sick. No, it wasn't as big as it was last year but to our defense we were lacking an engineering degree and sheer tenacity without the premier bro-han around. Plus, none of us are over 5'5 and wouldn't have been able to make a 7ft snowman anyway.
Packing snow for the base. And yes, I know it looks like my mother is hard at work with the snow shovel, but don't let her fool you. She was really just throwing snow around so she can make herself a chair to sit on.
The littlest bro-han rolling and rolling and rolling and rolling that damn ball around.
My dad "helping" me by shovelling up snow and flinging it in my general direction. Without checking to see if my mouth was open. *blech*
The snowman WAS smiling...untill part of his mouth broke off. Now he looks unsure. Probably because he's naked in a scarf and hat.
Mom and I dressing the snowman. And by "dressing" I mean shoving stone buttons into his skin and stapling a belt to his mid section.
Finished product (see the hair under the hat?? yeah, we're just so damn creative like that)...and yes, I really am that cheek-pinchingly cute! ;)
My mom (just turned 50...she won't mind that I told you) who is also cheek-pinchingly cute. I had to get it from someone right?
With the bro-han...after he finished chucking snowballs at the kids over the fence next door.
And the next day, our hard work covered up by another 6 inches of snow :(
Lastly, I want to thank all of you for the gifts and cards and emails and happy thoughts you sent my way! I hope you guys had a great Christmas!
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
All the vermin were stirring, especially the mouse.
The beer cans were stacked by the front door with care,
In fear that the cops soon would be there.
The frat boys were nestled all drunk in the beds,
While visions of pole dancers danced in their heads.
And mamma in her do-rag, and I in my cap,
Had just fizzled our brains with a pull from the tap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I tripped as I dashed,
Tore open the tinfoil and threw up the sash.
The flashing red lights on the snow was aglow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a tank of a cop car, and the SWAT team in gear.
With a scary leader, so livid and thick,
I knew in a moment this guy was a prick.
More rapid than eagles his officers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Crusher! now, Turbo! now, Gemini and Nitro!
On, Titan! On, Thunder! on Viper and Bronco!
Shoot the teargas inside o'er top of the wall!
Now blast away! blow away! Blast away all!"
As crack heads that run to get their next high,
The police people hastened,to mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the officers flew,
With a pack full of ammo, and the damn leader too.
And then, in a fear struck moment, I heard on the roof
The footfalls and bootsteps of each little hoof.
As I drew in my stash, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the leader rappelled with a bound.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A couple of M4s he had flung on his back,
And he looked like the Terminator, ready to attack.
His eyes-how they blazed! his scowl oh so scary!
His cheeks were like granite, his nose twisted, bent and un-merry!
His menacing mouth was drawn down like a bow,
And the beard on his chin, a five o'clock shadow.
The pin of a grenade he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke from the teargas 'round his head like a wreath.
His chilling face and a 6-pack tight ab,
Never shook when he cackled, like a stone slab!
He was rigid and fierce, and tall as a giant,
And I cried when I saw him, my bowels unreliant!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had all things to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And grabbed me and crushed me, and turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney we rose!
He ran to the tank, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere we drove from the light,
"Now you're mine little boy, without even a fight"
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Some of the reason's I've heard:
-it's the coach's last game, plus it's at home
-Favre is old and the cold is probably making his arthritis act up (I smacked the guy who said that...I love Favre, aged or not!)
-we've poisoned the water in the Jets' locker room.
-we've disabled the engine in the plane the Jets' are taking here.
-we've replaced the Seahawks defensive line with the latest innovation in cyborg technology
-shh, don't tell anyone but we've put an invisible force field along the Jets' endzone
-game? what game? it's snowing! they're playing a game?
Of course I'll be rooting for the Seahawks even though I also like the Jets. Notice how none of the reasons were "because the Seahawks are playing really well and will beat the Jets on merit alone". Yeah...I wouldn't have bought it either.
I kinda wish I had my Christmas present early for all the game watching fun. I already know what my parents got me (since I asked for it, went to the store, tried it on to get the size right and promptly told my brother to tell my mom where and when to get it). For those of you who are curious, they are two Seahawk's Jerseys...a #51 Tatupu and a #8 Hasselbeck. And in case you are click-lazy, yes they are official (premier replica, cuz I can't justify spending $300 on one authentic jersey that won't fit me, much less two), no they are not pink or girly, and yes WordsWordsWords, I was thinking of you when I picked them out!
Go 'Hawks!!! I'm praying...I mean ROOTING for you!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Part III: About dating certain guys...
The summer before I went to college, my youngest brother who was 6 at the time started taking swim lessons at the local pool. I, being the awesome sister that I am, would drive him there and stay for the hour...to watch him play around in the water having fun. And also to stealthily observe his hot swim teacher. For the purposes of this blog, we will call him "Fins". By the way Expat, he looked like a younger version of the Scandinavian God...
A month and 8 swim lessons pass by and although I had chatted up Fins a few times before, I got the feeling that he wasn't really interested in me. Usually when I turn on the charm full blast it doesn't take that long for a guy to get a clue. One day as I was waiting for the littlest bro-han to finish getting dressed, Fins comes up the bleachers to talk to me and *gasp* asks me if I wanted to hang out! Hoorah! We make plans to go watch a movie and have dinner etc...usual date stuff.
The day of the date comes around and it was nice enough. No real sparks but the food was good and conversation decent. After dinner he takes me to this place known locally as the go-to make out spot (for those of you in the Seattle area, it's that place near the Amazon.com building right off of Jose Rizal Bridge). I wasn't really feeling in the mood for such an event as he was obviously looking forward to, but I decided to just go along with it. Who knew, maybe sparks will ignite after all! We get there and sit around awkwardly for a few minutes when all of a sudden Fins...lunges, I guess would be the word...at me and started grabbing and groping and being really uncoordinated. I raise my hand to push him off but the heel of my hand "accidentally" (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) smacks against his nose causing it to spurt blood all over himself.
He backs off and starts cussing at me and yelling and being generally ungentlemanlike and then he tells me to "get out of the f*ing car cuz you're f*ing walking your f*ing ass home". I tell him "fine, but keep in mind my parents and about a half a dozen friends know where I am and who I'm with and I'll tell them what happened and why I had to call them for a ride...so if tomorrow morning you wake up and there's two burly football players outside your door with a shotgun..."
I guess that whole spiel about the shotgun made him reconsider his threat and he tells me that he'll drive me home but that I can "f*ing forget about us". As if I needed him to tell me that! Anyway, after the silent ride home (which now in retrospect I should have called someone else for a ride) I basically never saw him again. It turns out I broke his nose and he had to get someone else to cover his swim lessons for the rest of the season. *giggle*
Fast forward two years and I'm a sophomore in college having a nice walk thru campus when all of a sudden I see this guy jogging towards me. I wasn't wearing my glasses so I didn't recognize him untill it was too late to run away. Good ole Fins! Looking pretty damn good and happy (the bastard). He says Hi, and that he is glad to see me and he would like for us to have coffee because there was something he has been meaning to tell me the last two years but he is "finally in a place where I can say it out loud". I was ready to tell him to take a flying leap but that last little bit intrigued me (the bastard) so I tell him fine, Ill meet him at a nice public coffee house in the middle of the day with lots of people around.
I meet him at a Starbucks the next day and right away he apologizes for his actions that fateful night. He tells me " I know that nothing I can say, and no amount of apologizing will make you forgive me or forget that night but I just wanted to at least explain. As f*ed up as it sounds I did have a reason for doing what I did". All along I was thinking WTF!?! You had a reason for accosting me??? (that bastard). But I nod and was gracious and told him to go on. He says, "I was in a confused state at the time and to be honest I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn't gay and I guess in my weird mental state I thought that if I can get thru having relations with you..........."
I'm sorry...Excuse me say what?!?!?! BACK UP!!! I was glazing over and starting to fade but that little revelation woke me the hell up. Long story short, it turns out he was gay and in the closet and he thought that forcing himself on me would either make him realize he wasn't or convince him that he was. Apparently I convinced him that he was. He even went so far as to thank me for finally giving him the kick in the ass he needed to accept it and to tell his parents. I told him I would have given him all the ass kicking he needed and "uhm you're welcome??". I was only being halfway my sarcastic self about the ass kicking.
The last I heard, he was happily living with his partner of...I guess it would be 6 years now...and teaching in a high school somewhere in California. Although I understood his dilemma and was genuinely happy for him that he finally accepted himself and found somebody, I'd be lying if I said I completely forgave him. Regardless of his reasons, that was one of the scariest experiences of my life and even though it ended about as well as it could have, there were many nights for a long time after when I had nightmares about being raped and maimed. Those of you (the guys) who know me in person...you know how when I meet up with you the first time and I say "I've told 50 people where I am and what car you drive so please don't rape or maim me"?? Well, that experience is where that particular habit came from.
I suppose I should thank God that I was fine and came out of it ok, thank God for happy little "accidents" *wink wink*, and damn my luck and taste with guys.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I know a few of my readership are from the "East Coast" or "The Midwest" and you guys are thinking that 3 inches of snow does not constitute a snowstorm, but rather a snow dusting. And then there are the "rest of you" who would kill for 3 inches (and I don't just mean in snow...*wink wink*).
Fortunately for me, I do not live in those places. I live in "Seattle" where life screeches to a screaming halt at the mere mention of snow. Schools close down. Snowmen go up. And bosses accept "I think it may snow tomorrow and I'm scared so I'm staying home...SUCK IT!" as a valid excuse not to go to work.
With that said *looks around stealthily and whispers* "I've got an unexpected day off today..heheheheh".
What to do...what to do.
Perhaps Ill go visit Zibbs' site and troll the internet for some crappy gifts. Perhaps Ill brave the biting cold and help the littlest bro-han build a snowman (not likely). Perhaps I'll finally finish that novel I've been working on. Or perhaps Ill haul my lazy ass back to bed and take a nap.
Nap it is! And keep your pants on Dr. Zibbs, Ill get to the gift giving when I wake up!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
I think part of it has to do with how she was raised. She wasn't ever really close to her mother and maybe that constant need to please that stemmed from childhood is what is making her want to change herself now. I have considered referring her to my therapist but I'm afraid that will just backfire on our friendship.
Back to my friend...her picture is included in this post at least once...maybe twice or more. But I ask you honestly. Was there anybody you saw you think needed any help? Sometimes what we all forget is that we are our biggest critics. We see flaws that others may not. We strive to correct things that are only present in our own eyes. I am guilty of this as much as anyone. I try to cover things with makeup...workout, diet, to get rid of those last few extra pounds that no one seems to see but me. But for what? Not one of my friends or family (at least the ones that count) will like me any more or less should I gain or lose a few pounds.
You know what truly makes someone pretty or handsome? It's confidence in yourself...being happy with who you are...and of course a heartfelt smile!
In the end nobody can tell you to do anything you don't want to do, or not to do anything you want to do. You need to be happy with yourself.
"And this above all else...to thine own self be true"
I know you guys have a pic of yourselves that you think you look absolutely dynamite in and if you don't mind sharing it please send a copy to my email: email@example.com.
No nudie pics and complete anonymity will be exercised.
When you send me a pic you don't even need to tell me who you are or from what blog.
Thanks in advance!
P.S. This is why I need pictures: A friend of mine wanted me to go with her to a plastic surgeon to see about getting "some work done". She is only 25 and one of the prettiest people I know... So I want to show her that even "beautiful people" have insecurites too. Pretty comes with a price. As an added bonus I thought I'd post some pictures of people I know who are naturally beautiful (yes, that would be YOU blog readers...and also some of my real life friends :) )
Monday, December 15, 2008
One blue bucket
2 desk chair wheels (the rolly caster kind)
2 black bottle caps
1 blue bottle cap
1 black rock
1 red chair-shaped foam cellphone holder
2 pairs of gloves
1 hat from a stuffed animal
2 twigs for eyebrows
2 huge branches
2 little branches
and a younger brother to help you haul each piece to its proper place.
Throw it all together, add some pizazz and an overproud sister with a camera and you get:
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Part II: Urban Combat Zone
A few years ago, I was dating (but not living with...yet) a US Army soldier. I met him a couple months after he got back from a 12 month deployment in Iraq. That said, he was adjusting to life outside of the war zone but still slightly edgy at times.
One night as we were sleeping, he heard some scratching noises outside the bedroom window. I guess he thought someone was trying to break into the house and so very very quietly grabbed his gun from under his bed, dropped to the bedroom floor and crab crawled his way across the room and under the only window. He cocked the gun and readied himself to attack. Counting to three...he sprang up while simultaneously ripping down the shades, pointing the gun, and yelling at the top of his lungs. As the shade came down, the true nature of the sounds was discovered.
A big fat cat. Splayed against the window, hanging by his claws from the screen that covered it on the outside.
Given the situation and his frenzied state at the time I'm sure that laughing my ass off was probably NOT the best response. He was pretty pissed off that I found it so amusing. But on the bright side, that'd show all those damn cats not to come crawling up our windows ever again (lest they get yelled at or worse, have their heads blown off!)
Part I: It's ok to cringe...I forgive you!
When I was 19, I did what every stupid 19 year old college girl did back then...got myself a spiffy little bellyring. It was HAWT and totally worth the 2 seconds of tear jerking pain it caused me. A few months later it was summer and a bunch of friends and I decided to haul ourselves to the local waterpark to laze away our day playing in the sun. I figured since I was gonna be wearing a spunky little bikini (and since the bellyring hole was all healed anyway) that I would exchange the boring little barbell I was wearing for a sparkly pink dragonfly (complete with sparkly pink dragonfly wings and sparkly pink dragonfly tail that matched my sparkly pink bikini).
All you boys out there...are you picturing the bikini??? GOOD! Hold on to the nice thought because you'll need it for this next part.
After a long day of playing, we all congregated near the lockers to dry off and get dressed. I was standing slightly behind a friend of mine as she pulled her towel out of her locker. As she unfurled the towel and moved to swing it over her shoulders, neither of us noticed that the little laundry tag on the towel had gotten caught on my dragonfly tail.
So whoosh goes her towel over her shoulders and out ripped my pretty little bellyring...right out of my belly. It was the most god-awful pain I've ever felt (and keep in mind I have a couple tattoos although I've heard childbirth is worse). I think I was in shock for a few seconds and as I stood there, blood leaking down my front, I vaguely remember my friends freaking out/turning green and gagging/trying to herd me into first aid which conveniently enough was only a few steps away.
They patched me up with a couple band-aids and some antiseptic and a ton of advil...my friend with the towel still outside to see if she could find the ring. She came inside with it...complete with a piece of E-tummy still nicely attached. YUM!! Since it was a complete accident, I forgave her of course (partly my fault for being vain and wanting to wear fancy body jewelry to match my stupid suit that I didn't even like all that much). Long story short, it took three weeks for the hole to completely heal...two weeks of which I couldn't stretch or lie on my stomach for very long. And on top of that, I'm also a cheloid former (think puffy scars, not flat) so now I have a lovely little reminder of that sunny day 7 years ago...
Saturday, December 13, 2008
I will, however, admit to stealing this video from Fancy Shmancy, who in turn stole it from a blogger buddy of hers, who in turn stole it from... Well, actually I don't know where she got it from but who cares...I'll just make sure to wash my hands after.
I don't mind spreading the funny and I don't mind telling you I cried, I was laughing so hard.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HILARIOUS!!! Click on the video. You will NOT be dissapointed!
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Normal standard run of the mill tree with normal standard run of the mill decorations. The presents don't normally start sneaking their way under it for another week or two.
Then comes my parent's yard...
Ten guesses as to what ethnicity and what religion we are. Go ahead. I'll wait...
Anyway, here goes:
The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn't prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me. (Splotchy)
I hunched down to see what it was, but as I did, the bus violently veered to left. I was thrown up against a heavyset Asian woman with blond hair. I pardoned myself, but she faced forward with no reply. Just then, a man wearing a jumpsuit of silver and gold stood up at the front of the bus. He was holding a megaphone and a box of graham crackers. He held the megaphone up to his face and began to speak... (Some Guy)
"Ladies and Gentlemen...please do not be afraid! I am here to help you" he said in a mighty booming voice. As he began to step towards me I felt a hand creep its way around my throat and all of a sudden I was pressed against the mighty bosom of the Asian woman as she she hauled me to my feet. She began to back away from the costumed crusader all the while holding me, feet dangling in the air. I panicked and my eyes searched the bus, hoping to connect with someone, anyone who would be able to help me. My eyes met those of the hero in gold and just as I began to gasp for air he yelled...(~E)
I tag: Fancy, WWW, Mr. Anderson, Matt, Pistols, and Expat.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
p.s. He didn't give me permission to post this...but I'm doing it anyway. Cuz I'm a rebel like that.
p.p.s. Notice how I edited it in such a way that I have the last word? My blog, my rules. HA!
E: There's some people on here I try to avoid...that's why Im invisible all the time.
W: I'm frequently invisible too
E: metaphorically or ?
W: Hah...G-chat invisible. Unless I have secret powers that I haven't told you about...
E: that's for you to know and me not to care about
W: Oh, snap! You've played this game before.
E: Of course I have...it's my secret power, luring guys in with the looks and the rack...then driving them away with my extraordinarily annoying sarcasm
W: Oh boy. Well, the luring part works just fine. But the sarcasm part...well, you may have met your match.
E: you wouldn't know about the luring...that's the beauty of annonymous blogs and the internet
I could be a 60 year old dude with ear hair
W: You could be...but I'm going to choose to believe your pictures. Which could be fatal, considering your sense of humor.
E: good thing you live in where you do...there's no big craggly rocks for you to crash a ship into
W: You really are a wiseass.
E: its a survival skill...
W: Well, I like it.
E: well *wink wink* Mr.W...I also have this bridge I wanna sell you
W: I don't like it THAT much.
E: too bad you're stuck with it
W: Strong women are awesome, because you never have to worry that they're doing things just for you.
E: true. I should just kick [guy I dated] in the nads and get on with life but...he's tall, Im short...my legs dont reach that high
W: But your fists do.
E: you underestimate my shortness...and his tallness...even on tiptoes I wouldn't reach his head...HA!!!!
W: But surely your fists can reach his nads!
E: read closely..."even on tiptoes I wouldn't reach his head"
W: You said head! That's way higher!
Unless...Unless you're being even dirtier than me.
Which is an accomplishment.
E: Do I need to say it in kindergarten terms?
Mr. W!!! E just called me a peepee head!!!!!
*sigh*and I had such high hopes for you too
W: I just needed time to find your level!
And find a shovel to dig that low.
E: ahhh touche
W: Yeah, you're not the only one who burns ;)
E: free clinic, they don't charge
I haven't met you yet, I don't need the free clinic.
E: Im so viral I seep thru the net
W: You do? Oh hell. I'm glad I still have my pants on.
E: pants are no match for me and as youll soon find out the next time you pee...neither is 3000 miles
That is so not fair.
I get all the bad but none of the fun!
E: who say's its all bad...the burning sensation is kinda comforting after awhile...kinda like a warm blanket on a cold winter night
W: Maybe the first night.
But then it gets all red and nobody wants to touch it.
E: does anyone wanna touch it now?
Im just sayin
maybe the swelling will be beneficial, who knows?
W: Oh, girl...you are ASKING for it.
E: who me?!?!?
my nickname in highschool was Angel...cuz Im all angelic and stuff
W: Angelic and stuff? Mmmhmm.
E: yu huh
special emphasis on "stuff"
W: You're the girl everyone's mother loves because they don't know what you do when they're not around.
E: exactly!!! Im all sorts of motherlovin goodness
and what's better than a mother's love?
W: You talk circles around most people, don't you?
You're the one that smiles politely while sticking the dagger in?
E: sticking it in....launching it from a harpoon with barbed wire attachments...same diff
W: Too showy.
E: nah...with the brightness of the stunning smile I can be running them over with a herd of pink candy striped elephants and they wouldn't notice
did I also mention my humbleness and modesty?? another selling point if I do say so myself
W: You certainly don't lack for confidence, Ms. E.
Yeah, I can totally tell. You are a loser.
E: uhuh...uhuh...and how does that make you feel?
E: uhuh...and do you usually feel superior when winning pointless arguments against helpless little girls?
W: Helpless my ass!
Too late, missy. The genie is out of the lamp. I can see the problem with dating you.
E: other than not being able to take your eyes off my gorgeousness you mean?
W: Hahaha. But back to my point...it's dangerous to fall asleep next to you.
One might not wake up.
I'd be afraid to fall asleep with you in the room!
You might be like a cat and suck my breath out.
E: but what a way to die! right?? Am I right?
W: Well, okay, if you have to go.
But I'm kinda hoping that's about 50 years away.
E: nah...I have a feeling I may not live that long
besides if I do...who'd wanna suck the breath out of some geriatric
much more fun if you cut them down at the prime of life
W: I mean 50 years til I go!
E: ...my point still stands
W: Who'd want to? You are underestimating my boyish good looks.
E: does the boyish good looks also apply to the peen?
Okay, good one.
E: because in all languages I speak "boyish" doesn't mean the same as "childishly small"
W: Well, then I mean my face.
E: I see
my point still stands
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Until he beat me to it and posted one himself...not with me...with someone else...
So my excitement has dimmed considerably. Whatever...
...it was purely curiosity that made me ask of course. Because I wanted to know if I can have his stuff if he were to meet an untimely (or timely, depending on how you look at it) demise.
In the interest of providing my lovely blogger buddies with intellectual stimulation by way of highly intelligent conversation...I'll post our email string here.
Ha! LOL, who am I kidding?!? You don't come here for intelligent reading, you come here to see what kind of unmotivated crap I managed to come up with on an almost day to day basis and felt necessary to take time out of my unproductive life to type up for you folks. At least this way, I'm only half to blame. The other half is courtesy of WWW over at Untitled Blogger Project.
W: I'm not dead! Stop leering at my stuff! Although my stuff looks pretty cool right now as I have all my Christmas decorations up. You probably won't want any of my CDs, but if I die you can have my brain so that all my football knowledge can be transplanted into you :) But I don't plan on being dead anytime soon, so stay away with your guns! I'll be happy to give you a lesson though, I taught marksmanship to Boy Scouts for years :)
E: Yeah sure. Let me just steal my buddy's guns, hop on a plane with my weapons of individual destruction to wherever the hell you are and we'll get right on with the shootin.
W: You make it sound difficult...BTW I'm the hell in Los Angeles :)
E: Oh...well thats only 2 states away! That's less difficult than if you were...say in New York...but still more difficult than if you were in the same state as I. Plus there is that question of whether you'll try to maim me when I got there.
W: Maim you?? What kind of a monster do you take me for! I would only maim you if you pointed that gun at me.
E: If you can even get close enough to me! I may not be able to hold that damn gun up for very long...but if you hold still and don't move...and stand about 5 feet away...I won't miss. Even without my glasses!
W: If you're attempting to shoot me, I doubt very much that I will hold still five feet away from you, no matter how cute you are :)
E: You underestimate my powers when I bat my eyes and twirl the hair. I've gotten grown men to do things they would never admit to doing. In fact, somewhere in the skies above Minnesotta (or one of those middle of the country states no one really goes to) is a 34 year old man in an airplane with pink sparkly toenail polish on. But I digress...my point was they wouldn't let me carry guns on a plane
W: Wow. So you're saying you're a siren. Those willowy spirits that caused men to crash their ships into rocky shores because they couldn't help but follow the siren's song...that is a BOLD claim, chickadee ;)
E: No...Im not claiming to be a siren. What I am saying is, if you are my most favorite cousin in the world...and you are staying at my house for one night only on the way back home...anything that happens if I catch you dead drunk and passed out on the couch is all your fault. That's all.
W: That is worth writing down. *gives you the evil eye*That reminds me of a story from a few years ago. I was hanging out and drinking with my brother and a few friends from high school. One of them passed out, and we got a black magic marker and drew on his face. We drew penises on both his cheeks and "I LOVE DICK" on his forehead. He didn't realize it, and went home on the train to Philadelphia. We talked to him later...he was wondering why people gave him weird looks on the train, and then stopped wondering when he got home and washed his face before bed :)
E: *gasp*THAT IS FUCKING BRILLIANT!!!! Why the hell didn't I think of that?!?! Oh I know. Because I may be cute enough to forgive for girly but easily hideable toenail polish but not even all the charm in the world would save me from my cousin's wrath if I did that to him.
W: You're very right. But male friends can be forgiven for just about everything except sleeping with your friend's girlfriend.
E: See? That's just another one of those things that make me want to be a guy. One of the very few things...but still. In fact that's only the second thing I can think of. The first being "I would be able to pee anywhere, and do it standing up"
W: Well, yeah. But the peeing thing DOES come in handy. Especially when you're in a public restroom that doesn't look like you want to sit down. But that's what straddling is for!
E: Unless you're a girl and have had to do that once or twice (or everytime you go to the bathroom the whole month you were in a foreign country) then you have no idea how messy straddling can be. Unless you're me. Because I have perfect aim everytime.
W: Every time. Because much like Mary Poppins, you're practically perfect in every way. Mmmhmm.
E: Except for a couple tattoos and some scars here and there then you're right...Practically Perfect. Just call me Mary Freakin Poppins, asian version!
W: Scars! Now that sounds like there are some good stories. I'll have to try to email you after you've been drinking to hear those :)
Watch for Part II for "more on E's scars"...and I'm not talking about the emotional and mental ones!
Friday, December 5, 2008
And then one of you...I can't remember who, possibly MJenks or Some Guy...posted an article about some dude who lives in this state who drew up a contract that allowed him to rape his mentally special niece.
Well... I guess above all that, we are also a haven for vampiric teenage angst ridden lovers. Yeah...Seriously... The "movie phenomenon of the season" Twilight? Set right here in Washington State!
So take that!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
In case you haven't been paying attention, I hate the Raiders (BOO!). Not only because they suck, which they do, but because I do believe they are Satan's own army of padded-cleat wearing behemoths (yes, I think Satan has the resources and fortitude to own his own football team).
If you are wondering why I have such hatred for them, may I redirect you to this post...which coincidentally got me the most comments on a blog I've written EVER. Just goes to show that the people who read my blog really do like me and wanted to give me their support. Or that they feed off of misery and pain and heartbreak to fuel their own narcisistic egotistic tendencies. Either way go read it. Or for those of you who are to lazy to click on that link (Mr. 5280!) here is a quick excerpt:
Just found out that an ex's new girlfriend is an f*ing cheerleader for the f*ing Oakland f*ing Raiders. Straight from the horses mouth. He called to see if I was doing ok and I told him I was fine...that a coworker sent me home with a couple dvd's of past Superbowls and I was being lazy... Then he said "that's great...you know [girl's name] is really into football too...but more because of her job I think". I should know a setup when I hear it, but to my defense I was high off of pain killers and wasn't my quick self so I said "what job is that?".
"oh, she's a Raiderette". It's not an off broadway version of the Rockettes...I looked it up. Blah! :(
Needless to say, I am NOT rooting for them to win. So even though I am not particularly fond of the San Diego Chargers, all of my energies and cheering skills will be fully directed at them to win tomorrow. By the way, please understand that my hatred for the team (BOO!) is in no way a reflection of how I feel for the city of Oakland, nor its residents. I actually like the city and have visited there numerous times. No, my contempt rests solely on those who wear the Raiders (BOO!) uniform in general, and for their cheerleaders...with one cheerleader specifically...in particular.
I know some of you are saying, "Well, they lost to the Chiefs last week, isn't that enough punishment?" To which I say, No...No it is not. Because the week previous to that, I wasn't praying at all since I figured the Broncos were gonna pummel them to the ground, but alas...the Broncos lost and the Raiders (BOO!) won.
So this week I am not taking any chances.
Fair warning to those who will be in my immediate vicinity tomorrow right around 5 to 8pm. If the Raiders (BOO!) win...*knock on wood* then please head quickly and calmly to the nearest exits, make sure to fasten your safety devices securely around your person because I will go ape-shit and psycho and God help you if you are around to witness that.
First: New Music Wednesday
Love Lockdown -- Kanye West
Also, lookie here!!!
View my page on Twenty Something Bloggers
That is all!
It was post-dated and I didn't get to edit it before it went out and just now realized that I embedded the wrong video. Well, it was the right video but the wrong part of it.
And also, the dude whose voice you hear is my buddy Jon. And he would like to take credit for "toning down my girly".
You see this Jon?!?! Happy now?!?! Geez!
And also, he wanted me to put up this video. To him I say, thanks for teaching me to shoot big hurkin guns and makin sure I didn't kill myself and all, but dammit! GET YOUR OWN Dang BLOG!
With that said...please enjoy!
Oh...warning...a tiny little cussword at the beginning!
Monday, December 1, 2008
I'm bored enough and have time enough to kill, so I thought I'd follow his example and post a story of my own.
I lived with a boyfriend about 3 years ago. He didn't have any pets when I moved in (well, except for a cat he inherited from a friend but it ran away about a week before I got there) because he was in the Army and didn't have anyone to take care of pets when he was gone on missions and stuff. Since I had moved in he figured it would be ok to get a pet since I would be home to take care of it when he was gone. I love dogs and have had them growing up so I said sure! That was just domestic enough for me but here's the catch...I've had dogs but always medium sized ones. 25lbs or less...scottie-poo's, shiba-inu's etc. It just so happens that he had a friend who was going to be moving away and wanted to know if he wanted to adopt the dog. He said yeah and I went with him to pick it up.
I was expecting a nice little apartment sized dog with nice little apartment sized poops (since I would be handling it when he wasn't around). What greeted me instead was this:
A 125lb American Pit Bulldog. Who was about 5 1/2 feet long stretched out. And her name was Bo.
(I realize that the picture above is a boy dog...I couldn't find a pic of Bo so had to google one. Except for the peepee that's exactly what she looked like.)
Now to the average person (and by person I mean man) that wouldn't be so bad. My bf was 6ft...about 200lbs. So he saw no problem whatsoever with bringing the "puppy" home. She may have looked like a killer dog but really she was very very sweet and loving. Or so he told me.
The problem was this. I'm 5ft tall...about 113lbs on a good day. And I would have to be responsible for all dog walking duties when he was gone. 2 weekends out of every month.
But I was a trooper and said nothing. If he didn't see a problem then by golly I wasn't about to nag him and make one. Besides she really was very loving and obedient and I adored her after a while. She would follow me around like a shadow when I was cleaning and would let me pile dirty clothes on her so she can walk them to the laudry for me, she'd cuddle me on the couch when watching TV...and I found it hilarious when people would cross the street to avoid walking next to her when we went out for our nightly walks around the neighborhood.
So a few weeks passed by and my bf had to leave for the weekend. I had never walked her by myself but since I always went with him when he did, I didn't think there would be any issues. That first night went off without a hitch. I walked her, and she peed and pooped like a good dog and she even cuddled with me in bed. All love and warm fuzzy feelings.
Then the next night happened.
I figured since the previous night had gone so well that I would take her for a longer walk around a high school that we lived next to. This high school was situated on a large hill and we made it all around the school and was about to start walking down the hill towards home when I found out two very very important things about Bo that somehow my bf had neglected to mention:
1) Bo loved to chase squirrels
2) When Bo was chasing squirrels, no amount of screaming stop or calling her name or a 113lb girl tugging on her leash will make her stop.
That said, she spotted a squirrell running across the street about halfway down the hill from us and took off running. I had the leash looped around my hand so had no choice but to follow her. And by follow I mean run like hell to avoid being dragged.
That worked for maybe 10 steps. Ten terrorizing steps punctuated by screams of "stop BO" and "Holy F*king Shit" before I bellyflopped onto grass (thank God) and ended up being dragged 3/4 down the hill. To Bo's defense she was only doing what she was born to do...and If I had to judge by the speed at which she was hauling ass, I honestly don't think she even noticed my weight on her leash. I finally managed to undo the loop from my hand and I screeched to a halt just as one of my neighbors popped out of his house ( I guess he heard me cussing my way down the slope) in time to grab Bo.
I finally made my way down to them and the neighbor offered to walk her with me the rest of the way. I told him thanks but no thanks and walked her by myself the short distance home. When we got there, my bf was sitting on the couch watching TV...I guess they were allowed to come home a day early and had just gotten back about a minute after I left to walk the dog. He said he saw us walking up the hill and decided to let me do it by myself because I looked like I was enjoying it.