Getting old is tough. My mind doesn’t feel my age but my body sure does. I really never thought about age, except when I was 18 and I couldn’t wait to be 21. But ever since then, it really never mattered to me. Suddenly, I’ve become very “age sensitive.” Is it because I’m almost reaching Cougar status? Or is there really such a thing as a “biological clock?” If there is, mine is running very slow. I was never in a rush to have kids, or get married or anything like that. But I’m suddenly surrounded by people noticeably younger than me.
I’ve recently signed on to play on a softball team. I haven’t played in a very long time and it’s taking me a little longer to bounce back from Sunday practices followed by Monday night games. I remember the days when I would play softball six nights a week and sometimes a couple tournaments on the weekends. I was in decent shape. But now, I walk around like Frankenstein, dragging my feet and moaning. I’m hoping that this is something that can be easily remedied by hitting the gym in the mornings. The sloth life is not for me!
Then the rest of the week, I’m in school. I decided to go back to school and get my law degree. Next to business, I think law is one of those degrees that one can use in the real world. It’s tough and the competition is young and hungry. They ask questions and I think to myself, “they are so young and they have no idea what the world has in store for them.” I do find myself to be a better student than I remember. I’m more organized, more conscious of deadlines. I guess the work experience paid off. I think in this aspect, I have the upper hand. I am worried that I won’t get into my first pick law school (Loyola). But I am making every effort to reach that goal.
There’s a saying that I love and I think about it often as I am in the middle of these young whipper snappers with their “know it all” attitudes and low rise jeans and it goes like this… “El diablo es sabio por ser viejo, no por ser diablo” which means “The Devil is wise because he is old not because he is the Devil”.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
The Cheesecake Factory's Share Your Love Story Contest
The Cheesecake Factory's Share Your Love Story Contest: "Check out the Share Your Love Story Contest from The Cheesecake Factory for a chance to Win a Week In Hawaii. Enter now: http://bit.ly/aUid38"
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Another one bites the dust, swallows it, then throws it back up...
So, just when I thought I had a fat girl that I can relate to...a fat girl with style and charisma on both television and cinema... the rug gets pulled out from under me.
What the hell happened to America Ferrera?
You remember her, from "Real Women Have Curves" and "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants". Her career took off when she did "Ugly Betty" on ABC (you know the Anorexia Bulimia Channel).
Just look at her now!
Why did she "put down the flan?"
Betty could be Ugly but not fat?
Why, America, why?
I know what you're thinking…
"Karla, why are you hating on the people that lose weight?"
I get mad at the people that lose weight because of pressure to be thin in Hollywood, not people that have to do it for health reasons. America came on the scene chubby and now she's thin. She didn't lose weight for herself. She lost the pounds because she HAD to. How do I know this…simple.
If I were an actress, I would already come on to the scene thin because I know the way Hollywood is and what they expect. We read articles of these actresses all the time that are either super fat or super thin. Some actresses make both lists, i.e. Nicole Richie. If I enter the scene chubby, it's a way of telling Hollywood to take me as I am. A big, "F-You" if you will. I would not bow down.
When the chubbies of Hollywood bow down to the man and drop some pounds, they are only hurting themselves because they all eventually gain it back. Look at Kirstey Alley. She made her battle of the bulge public only to look like a fat ass again. Ricki Lake (the infamous yo-yo dieter) will fail too because she's on the prowl for a man now, but once she finds him, she will get comfortable and her ass will spread back to what it was. Star Jones is another one, but she looked horrible before and after. Even weight loss couldn't help that heffer! She shouldn't have married that gay man, because the gay man is body conscious.
These celebrity tubbies are hurting us regular people because when we relate with a character that looks good on screen and is obviously not thin by Hollywood's standards we then think that maybe we don't look as bad afterall. We start to feel like there are people brave enough to be over a size 4 in Hollywood. Then, these actors separate themselves from us by becoming part of the <4 crowd.
That is what pisses me off.
And then the media wonders why little girls are wasting away at a rapid pace.
What the hell happened to America Ferrera?
You remember her, from "Real Women Have Curves" and "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants". Her career took off when she did "Ugly Betty" on ABC (you know the Anorexia Bulimia Channel).
Just look at her now!
Why did she "put down the flan?"
Betty could be Ugly but not fat?
Why, America, why?
I know what you're thinking…
"Karla, why are you hating on the people that lose weight?"
I get mad at the people that lose weight because of pressure to be thin in Hollywood, not people that have to do it for health reasons. America came on the scene chubby and now she's thin. She didn't lose weight for herself. She lost the pounds because she HAD to. How do I know this…simple.
If I were an actress, I would already come on to the scene thin because I know the way Hollywood is and what they expect. We read articles of these actresses all the time that are either super fat or super thin. Some actresses make both lists, i.e. Nicole Richie. If I enter the scene chubby, it's a way of telling Hollywood to take me as I am. A big, "F-You" if you will. I would not bow down.
When the chubbies of Hollywood bow down to the man and drop some pounds, they are only hurting themselves because they all eventually gain it back. Look at Kirstey Alley. She made her battle of the bulge public only to look like a fat ass again. Ricki Lake (the infamous yo-yo dieter) will fail too because she's on the prowl for a man now, but once she finds him, she will get comfortable and her ass will spread back to what it was. Star Jones is another one, but she looked horrible before and after. Even weight loss couldn't help that heffer! She shouldn't have married that gay man, because the gay man is body conscious.
These celebrity tubbies are hurting us regular people because when we relate with a character that looks good on screen and is obviously not thin by Hollywood's standards we then think that maybe we don't look as bad afterall. We start to feel like there are people brave enough to be over a size 4 in Hollywood. Then, these actors separate themselves from us by becoming part of the <4 crowd.
That is what pisses me off.
And then the media wonders why little girls are wasting away at a rapid pace.
C.A.B.L. FUND
Let me preface this by saying this...
If we were all naked this wouldn't have happened.
So I'm watching an episode of "Rock Life" starring Cisco Adler. At first I am fascinated by this skinny, Well spoken, furry musician. He's got good stage presence and tight pants. Typical rocker right?
So who is this guy and how did Mischa Barton land him? Why was he all over the place in issues of US Weekly, Star and OK!? I am getting a little obsessed at this point.
So I go to the best source for celebrity gossip; the gay man. I happen to be hag to one of the best informed homosexuals on the planet! For privacy sakes, I shall call him...Lust.
I ask Lust...what do you know about Cisco Adler. Before I could finish pronouncing the "R" in Adler he says:
"He's got huge balls".
"Oh really?" I say "I like a ballsy guy, you know, brazen, not shy"
"No bitch" he sneered "I mean the guy has huge saggy balls".
"No way" I replied in disbelief and disgust.
"I've seen pictures on the Net. They're all over the place. I can show you if you want" he says.
At this point I've reached that whole Pandora's Box situation; do I see it or do I not and continue with my obsession like an ostrich with my head in the sand.
"Ok, show me" I say bravely with the tone I had when I got my first tattoo. Google is the devil.
Lo and behold (And I should say "LOW and BELOW") there he is. A pathetic vision in tube socks. "Those are the ugliest balls I've ever seen!" I declared. "They remind me of something you see on third world oxen." They were no so much huge as they were saggy(I don't want you to get an image of elephantitis or anything). No my friends, they were nothing but skin...like a fleshy pendulum waiting to hypnotize you and possibly break your nose.
I came to the conclusion as to why Mischa Barton is so thin and always has this "glazed over" look about her. After being with Cisco and taking a few balls to the chin, the bitch probably had her jaw wired shut once or twice. I hear this is an excellent but inhumane way of dieting.
My purpose is clear. Friends, I ask you to contribute to the Cisco Adler Ball Lift Fund. No one in our great country filled with so many medical advances should be subjected to this degree of sag. Maybe he could gueststar on Dr. 90210? I mean look at it! It looks like he has a pair of pink boxing gloves hanging from his dong!
I am happy to report that my 5 day obsession with Cisco has now stopped. I realized that the tight pants were not fashion but instead they served a medicinal purpose only. Nothing more dangerous than tripping on your balls while on stage.
If we were all naked this wouldn't have happened.
So I'm watching an episode of "Rock Life" starring Cisco Adler. At first I am fascinated by this skinny, Well spoken, furry musician. He's got good stage presence and tight pants. Typical rocker right?
So who is this guy and how did Mischa Barton land him? Why was he all over the place in issues of US Weekly, Star and OK!? I am getting a little obsessed at this point.
So I go to the best source for celebrity gossip; the gay man. I happen to be hag to one of the best informed homosexuals on the planet! For privacy sakes, I shall call him...Lust.
I ask Lust...what do you know about Cisco Adler. Before I could finish pronouncing the "R" in Adler he says:
"He's got huge balls".
"Oh really?" I say "I like a ballsy guy, you know, brazen, not shy"
"No bitch" he sneered "I mean the guy has huge saggy balls".
"No way" I replied in disbelief and disgust.
"I've seen pictures on the Net. They're all over the place. I can show you if you want" he says.
At this point I've reached that whole Pandora's Box situation; do I see it or do I not and continue with my obsession like an ostrich with my head in the sand.
"Ok, show me" I say bravely with the tone I had when I got my first tattoo. Google is the devil.
Lo and behold (And I should say "LOW and BELOW") there he is. A pathetic vision in tube socks. "Those are the ugliest balls I've ever seen!" I declared. "They remind me of something you see on third world oxen." They were no so much huge as they were saggy(I don't want you to get an image of elephantitis or anything). No my friends, they were nothing but skin...like a fleshy pendulum waiting to hypnotize you and possibly break your nose.
I came to the conclusion as to why Mischa Barton is so thin and always has this "glazed over" look about her. After being with Cisco and taking a few balls to the chin, the bitch probably had her jaw wired shut once or twice. I hear this is an excellent but inhumane way of dieting.
My purpose is clear. Friends, I ask you to contribute to the Cisco Adler Ball Lift Fund. No one in our great country filled with so many medical advances should be subjected to this degree of sag. Maybe he could gueststar on Dr. 90210? I mean look at it! It looks like he has a pair of pink boxing gloves hanging from his dong!
I am happy to report that my 5 day obsession with Cisco has now stopped. I realized that the tight pants were not fashion but instead they served a medicinal purpose only. Nothing more dangerous than tripping on your balls while on stage.
Men of Today
Today's social commentary comes from a "girl's night outing" on Friday to the infamous sausage fest called "The Yard House - Long Beach". Traditionally, the Yard House is a higher end sports bar with really good food, so the male to female ratio is always favorable...
My partners in crime all had their own agenda for the evening. I in my typical state was looking to make my friends laugh, maybe get a free drink, and as always, to have a few funny tales to recall the next day. I think all of the members of my High Heeled Posse had some sort of man trouble, my self included. But we were there to start anew. It was the first HHP outing of the year. We were starting out the year right by following one of my cardinal rules of going out with the girls; "Always go out in even numbered groups as men tend to flock in the same number too." For sure something was bound to happen, right?
Wrong... we walked in and the place was packed. There were groups and groups of men from all walks of life. They were huddled in tight little groups like chickens in a hen house. "What the hell is this?" I thought to myself "I hope it wasn't gay night." I had the feeling that not one single dude was going to be brave enough to approach us.
I have been off the market (dating-wise) for almost 10 years, so things were done differently in my "heyday". Back then, men weren't afraid to get rejected. Men were persistent. Men had balls. Men actually talked. What the hell is going on with the men of today? The age range I'm talking about is the 30 and younger crowd, which is the same age range of my friends. I am the geezer of the group at the ripe age of 36, but my god no wonder this slightly younger generation is hopeless when it comes to romance, chivalry, and love in general.
Did the men of this generation latch on to the proverbial teet too long? Did the single mother generation ruin the men of today? Single mothers have to play all roles in the home; breadwinner, disciplinarian, janitor, cook, etc... so are these nipple-latching men a product of the single mother syndrome? Are these men so used to having a woman do everything for them, that they also expect the woman to make the first move on the dating scene?
Case in point, the only men that even bothered to talk to us that evening were a group of Thirty-something dudes. They just walked right over to our table and struck up a conversation. They bought us drinks, took pictures with us,etc. We were all laughing and joking around by the end of the night while the flocks of chickens watch at a safe distance. Once we were leaving the bar, that's when the chicken coop began to stir but it was already too late because we were on our way out the door. What is the problem here? Did the "chicken coop" wait until the liquid courage kicked in?
I want to hear from those men, ages 29 and less. Why is it so hard to approach a table of good-looking, funny, intelligent women with no signs of silicone? We only bite upon request. As long as you keep your hands to yourself and you don't behave like a pervert or an asshole, there should not be a reason to be afraid to comeover and say "Hi".
Intimidation is a mother fucker.
My partners in crime all had their own agenda for the evening. I in my typical state was looking to make my friends laugh, maybe get a free drink, and as always, to have a few funny tales to recall the next day. I think all of the members of my High Heeled Posse had some sort of man trouble, my self included. But we were there to start anew. It was the first HHP outing of the year. We were starting out the year right by following one of my cardinal rules of going out with the girls; "Always go out in even numbered groups as men tend to flock in the same number too." For sure something was bound to happen, right?
Wrong... we walked in and the place was packed. There were groups and groups of men from all walks of life. They were huddled in tight little groups like chickens in a hen house. "What the hell is this?" I thought to myself "I hope it wasn't gay night." I had the feeling that not one single dude was going to be brave enough to approach us.
I have been off the market (dating-wise) for almost 10 years, so things were done differently in my "heyday". Back then, men weren't afraid to get rejected. Men were persistent. Men had balls. Men actually talked. What the hell is going on with the men of today? The age range I'm talking about is the 30 and younger crowd, which is the same age range of my friends. I am the geezer of the group at the ripe age of 36, but my god no wonder this slightly younger generation is hopeless when it comes to romance, chivalry, and love in general.
Did the men of this generation latch on to the proverbial teet too long? Did the single mother generation ruin the men of today? Single mothers have to play all roles in the home; breadwinner, disciplinarian, janitor, cook, etc... so are these nipple-latching men a product of the single mother syndrome? Are these men so used to having a woman do everything for them, that they also expect the woman to make the first move on the dating scene?
Case in point, the only men that even bothered to talk to us that evening were a group of Thirty-something dudes. They just walked right over to our table and struck up a conversation. They bought us drinks, took pictures with us,etc. We were all laughing and joking around by the end of the night while the flocks of chickens watch at a safe distance. Once we were leaving the bar, that's when the chicken coop began to stir but it was already too late because we were on our way out the door. What is the problem here? Did the "chicken coop" wait until the liquid courage kicked in?
I want to hear from those men, ages 29 and less. Why is it so hard to approach a table of good-looking, funny, intelligent women with no signs of silicone? We only bite upon request. As long as you keep your hands to yourself and you don't behave like a pervert or an asshole, there should not be a reason to be afraid to comeover and say "Hi".
Intimidation is a mother fucker.
OMG! Mary Kate weighs 80 lbs!
WHO GIVES A FUCK!
The media doesn't realize that they are the ones that are responsible for the body image problems in our country? OK, so MK weighs 80 lbs...she would get more media attention if she ballooned to 180 lbs. Nicole Richie is another example. Remember when she first starred in the Simple Life? She was a little thick, but she didn't look obese. She got static from the media, she was always in the worst dressed lists, etc. All of a sudden, the girl gets a stylist and drops about 50 lbs and she now one of the most stylish people. Now she's even thinner and all of a sudden, she's got anorexia. Will the media be blamed when these bitches starve themselves to death?
On the flipside, you got these "Big is beautiful" advocates that do nothing but advocate being fat. It's not OK to be unhealthy and overweight. Believe me, I'm overweight and I don't like it. But I will not prance around in a bikini and think that I'm all that. I've learned to accept myself just as is, but I'm not going to throw caution to the wind by eating everything I want because I'm already fat anyway. I think it's these "Camryn Manheim" type antics that embarrasses me more than my actual dress size. Maybe the skinnies have a point. Maybe this is why they starve themselves so that they don't have be lumped in a group with the "Big is beautiful" crowd.
Why are we so fascinated with the amount of fat a human stores? Isn't there a happy medium? I don't want to be the Nicole Richie, nor the Kirstie Allen who needed public acceptance by coming out on Oprah in a bikini. Why are we so focused on the body and not the mind?
I want to hear from the real people out there....
The media doesn't realize that they are the ones that are responsible for the body image problems in our country? OK, so MK weighs 80 lbs...she would get more media attention if she ballooned to 180 lbs. Nicole Richie is another example. Remember when she first starred in the Simple Life? She was a little thick, but she didn't look obese. She got static from the media, she was always in the worst dressed lists, etc. All of a sudden, the girl gets a stylist and drops about 50 lbs and she now one of the most stylish people. Now she's even thinner and all of a sudden, she's got anorexia. Will the media be blamed when these bitches starve themselves to death?
On the flipside, you got these "Big is beautiful" advocates that do nothing but advocate being fat. It's not OK to be unhealthy and overweight. Believe me, I'm overweight and I don't like it. But I will not prance around in a bikini and think that I'm all that. I've learned to accept myself just as is, but I'm not going to throw caution to the wind by eating everything I want because I'm already fat anyway. I think it's these "Camryn Manheim" type antics that embarrasses me more than my actual dress size. Maybe the skinnies have a point. Maybe this is why they starve themselves so that they don't have be lumped in a group with the "Big is beautiful" crowd.
Why are we so fascinated with the amount of fat a human stores? Isn't there a happy medium? I don't want to be the Nicole Richie, nor the Kirstie Allen who needed public acceptance by coming out on Oprah in a bikini. Why are we so focused on the body and not the mind?
I want to hear from the real people out there....
How the west was won...really
Long ago, when I had a friend, she and I went to the Temple Bar to see Quinto Sol. They are this great live band that plays in the LA area a lot and their shows are always fun. We were dancing and having a good time. Suddenly, next to me appears this beautiful long haired, dark skinned, young man. It was obvious he had indigenous roots and the way he was dancing I thought it was going to rain in the club.
So here I am, in my mind, getting ethereal about this dude. I watched him dance and I thought about how he was possibly channeling ancestors as dance is really the only way, in my opinion, one can lose himself in the moment (besides sex). I couldn't take my eyes off of him and he caught me watching him a few times. All he did was smile at me. He was perfection in movement.
Suddenly, this drunk ass white girl backs her ass into his crotch and starts grinding. The guy was so distracted that the perfection in his movement turned into an awkward mass coming to an abrupt halt. Like a gazelle running across a plain and then suddenly getting stuck in the mud or a graceful long-winged bird getting shot down while in mid flight or like having someone open the door on you while you were having sex...awkward right? You should have seen the look on the dude's face. He didn't know what hit him and he didn't know what to do. He looked at me like I was supposed to swoop in and rescue him.
Well needless to say, "Dances with Hoes" quickly figured out what he was supposed to do and reciprocated the grind. No longer was he that eagle soaring towards the sun. He became just another native, distracted by the white (wo)man and allowed her to take away his identity. I was reliving history and now understand how our land was stolen from us. Beware of the poon.
So here I am, in my mind, getting ethereal about this dude. I watched him dance and I thought about how he was possibly channeling ancestors as dance is really the only way, in my opinion, one can lose himself in the moment (besides sex). I couldn't take my eyes off of him and he caught me watching him a few times. All he did was smile at me. He was perfection in movement.
Suddenly, this drunk ass white girl backs her ass into his crotch and starts grinding. The guy was so distracted that the perfection in his movement turned into an awkward mass coming to an abrupt halt. Like a gazelle running across a plain and then suddenly getting stuck in the mud or a graceful long-winged bird getting shot down while in mid flight or like having someone open the door on you while you were having sex...awkward right? You should have seen the look on the dude's face. He didn't know what hit him and he didn't know what to do. He looked at me like I was supposed to swoop in and rescue him.
Well needless to say, "Dances with Hoes" quickly figured out what he was supposed to do and reciprocated the grind. No longer was he that eagle soaring towards the sun. He became just another native, distracted by the white (wo)man and allowed her to take away his identity. I was reliving history and now understand how our land was stolen from us. Beware of the poon.
Can money buy happiness?
You know, I've been reading a lot about this subject lately on the net. One particular story said that the percentage of people that earn $90K a year are only slightly happier than those that earn $40k a year. I think that whoever wrote the story is generalizing money.
There is a difference between money gained and money earned. It's obvious that the more you earn, the more stressful your job is likely to be right? Could that be the root of the unhappiness? If you were broke and couldn't afford to go to the movies which now cost $10.00 a head to go to, wouldn't you be bummed? If all the things you consider fun require money to do, then wouldn't you declare that money fuels your fun? If you are having fun wouldn't you deduce that you are happy?
So if a chunk of money fell into your lap either by lottery winnings or by a lucky slot machine, would it make you happier? Hell yes is my answer friends. What do you think?
There is a difference between money gained and money earned. It's obvious that the more you earn, the more stressful your job is likely to be right? Could that be the root of the unhappiness? If you were broke and couldn't afford to go to the movies which now cost $10.00 a head to go to, wouldn't you be bummed? If all the things you consider fun require money to do, then wouldn't you declare that money fuels your fun? If you are having fun wouldn't you deduce that you are happy?
So if a chunk of money fell into your lap either by lottery winnings or by a lucky slot machine, would it make you happier? Hell yes is my answer friends. What do you think?
I'm glad Xmas is over
Xmas always stresses me out!
I hate all the materialistic expressions of sincerity and endearment associated with Christmas. It has become too retail-oriented. I have a theory; since no one can really pinpoint when Jesus was born, perhaps retailers decided that December would be best in order to plump up the books for the end of a fiscal year.
I complain and complain about it every year but I find myself a victim of the vortex called…the Mall. When I used to live in Highland Park, the mall was at a safe distance. How much damage can one do at Target? Now, I live in Costa Mesa; shopping Mecca. When people ask me where I live, the follow up question is always “How close are you to the South Coast Mall”? “Too close” is always my reply.
So how is it that I am swept up in the whole “Xmas fever” you ask? I think it starts around Halloween. I start to panic when November 1st come around and Target already has their Christmas display going up right next to the clearance Freddy Krueger masks. That’s when my mantra starts…
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it.
Then, Jack in the Box comes out with the “Egg Nog Shake”
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it.
Then, Starbucks rolls out the Egg Nog Lattes and Gingerbread loaf.
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it.
Then the “after Thanksgiving” sales are announced on TV…even before I’ve had a chance to eat any Turkey. No one wonder some people start with Thanksgiving dinner at 2:00 pm. They need to be up at 4:00am to shop!
If you work in an office, then you’re in trouble! You have the “secret Santa” game, the “office gift exchange”; chip in for a present for your manager or your boss and of course the “white elephant” game. Then you have everyone and their mother asking for a handout for the holidays. Then you are stuck playing office politics…if I don’t buy something for “so and so”, he’ll think I hate him. It’s a vicious cycle.
I always say that I’m only going to buy stuff for my little brother and sister and my nephew only! Then I’m out at the mall and I see stuff for everyone in the family. It’s funny because I shop year round, but I never see the cute stuff like at Christmas time. It’s like they’re waiting for me…waiting in the bushes! This is how I wind up in the hole!
We should enforce age limits on Christmas. It should be about the kids and their belief in Santa Claus. They’ll have it hard enough when they get older, right? Why should I buy my boss who make well over $100K a year something that cost me 4 hours of my labor to pay for?
I hate all the materialistic expressions of sincerity and endearment associated with Christmas. It has become too retail-oriented. I have a theory; since no one can really pinpoint when Jesus was born, perhaps retailers decided that December would be best in order to plump up the books for the end of a fiscal year.
I complain and complain about it every year but I find myself a victim of the vortex called…the Mall. When I used to live in Highland Park, the mall was at a safe distance. How much damage can one do at Target? Now, I live in Costa Mesa; shopping Mecca. When people ask me where I live, the follow up question is always “How close are you to the South Coast Mall”? “Too close” is always my reply.
So how is it that I am swept up in the whole “Xmas fever” you ask? I think it starts around Halloween. I start to panic when November 1st come around and Target already has their Christmas display going up right next to the clearance Freddy Krueger masks. That’s when my mantra starts…
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it.
Then, Jack in the Box comes out with the “Egg Nog Shake”
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it.
Then, Starbucks rolls out the Egg Nog Lattes and Gingerbread loaf.
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it,
I don’t want to think about it.
Then the “after Thanksgiving” sales are announced on TV…even before I’ve had a chance to eat any Turkey. No one wonder some people start with Thanksgiving dinner at 2:00 pm. They need to be up at 4:00am to shop!
If you work in an office, then you’re in trouble! You have the “secret Santa” game, the “office gift exchange”; chip in for a present for your manager or your boss and of course the “white elephant” game. Then you have everyone and their mother asking for a handout for the holidays. Then you are stuck playing office politics…if I don’t buy something for “so and so”, he’ll think I hate him. It’s a vicious cycle.
I always say that I’m only going to buy stuff for my little brother and sister and my nephew only! Then I’m out at the mall and I see stuff for everyone in the family. It’s funny because I shop year round, but I never see the cute stuff like at Christmas time. It’s like they’re waiting for me…waiting in the bushes! This is how I wind up in the hole!
We should enforce age limits on Christmas. It should be about the kids and their belief in Santa Claus. They’ll have it hard enough when they get older, right? Why should I buy my boss who make well over $100K a year something that cost me 4 hours of my labor to pay for?
Restroom Ettiquette...kind of
Today’s Blog is inspired by the third world bathroom here at work.
No friends, I don’t work in Haiti. I work in Irvine but the tenants in my office building are moving (as am I). Because the tenants are taking their sweet ass time in moving, the facilities do not have toilet paper, ass gaskets, paper towels, etc. I’ve seen cleaner Port-O-Potties at Lollapalooza!
So what is the fascination with the toilet? Well, I’m not certain but I think my dog put it in perspective for me. Sometimes as I’m walking her, she starts smelling the ground. She runs back and forth all the while sniffing and snorting. When she starts going in circles, then I know she’s about to drop a “growler”. I see this and I think, “Why that spot?”
I realized that I too have some sort of bathroom ritual of my own. I run back and forth between the stalls to see which one is cleaner, which one has the best toilet paper and sufficient ass gaskets. In addition, I will not go in a toilet that has had anything marinating in it for a while. The image is disgusting and cannot be erased from my memory. Women are disgusting. What kind of sicko leaves blood on a toilet seat? Moreover, why won’t women use tampons…it the 21st century people not "Little House on the Prairie"! To top it all off…I never realized how many women do not wash their hands after they do their business. This is why I do not participate in company potlucks! I would hate to see where these women live. It’s not a race / culture thing, because I’ve been to Wal-Mart in Santa Ana (clean restroom!), I’ve been to the restroom at the airport in Tijuana (clean restroom!) My aversion to public restrooms stemmed from being in the corporate world with supposedly educated people. Don’t use a mortgage company restroom. It’s obvious that ivy-league colleges do not teach proper restroom etiquette.
So right now, I’m walking into the restroom with a roll of paper towels. I’ve had to do the “hover”. If you are not familiar with the “Hover”, it’s when you balance your self over the toilet seat and pee while your derrière is in the air. If you don’t have the cat-like moves that I have, then you would do what I call the “Rodeo”. “The Rodeo” is just like the hover, except you grab the crotch of your pants and underwear for leverage. I’ve had to “Rodeo” while intoxicated.
Anyway, maybe Finch from American Pie had it right...there’s no place like home.
No friends, I don’t work in Haiti. I work in Irvine but the tenants in my office building are moving (as am I). Because the tenants are taking their sweet ass time in moving, the facilities do not have toilet paper, ass gaskets, paper towels, etc. I’ve seen cleaner Port-O-Potties at Lollapalooza!
So what is the fascination with the toilet? Well, I’m not certain but I think my dog put it in perspective for me. Sometimes as I’m walking her, she starts smelling the ground. She runs back and forth all the while sniffing and snorting. When she starts going in circles, then I know she’s about to drop a “growler”. I see this and I think, “Why that spot?”
I realized that I too have some sort of bathroom ritual of my own. I run back and forth between the stalls to see which one is cleaner, which one has the best toilet paper and sufficient ass gaskets. In addition, I will not go in a toilet that has had anything marinating in it for a while. The image is disgusting and cannot be erased from my memory. Women are disgusting. What kind of sicko leaves blood on a toilet seat? Moreover, why won’t women use tampons…it the 21st century people not "Little House on the Prairie"! To top it all off…I never realized how many women do not wash their hands after they do their business. This is why I do not participate in company potlucks! I would hate to see where these women live. It’s not a race / culture thing, because I’ve been to Wal-Mart in Santa Ana (clean restroom!), I’ve been to the restroom at the airport in Tijuana (clean restroom!) My aversion to public restrooms stemmed from being in the corporate world with supposedly educated people. Don’t use a mortgage company restroom. It’s obvious that ivy-league colleges do not teach proper restroom etiquette.
So right now, I’m walking into the restroom with a roll of paper towels. I’ve had to do the “hover”. If you are not familiar with the “Hover”, it’s when you balance your self over the toilet seat and pee while your derrière is in the air. If you don’t have the cat-like moves that I have, then you would do what I call the “Rodeo”. “The Rodeo” is just like the hover, except you grab the crotch of your pants and underwear for leverage. I’ve had to “Rodeo” while intoxicated.
Anyway, maybe Finch from American Pie had it right...there’s no place like home.
Snakes vs. Anacondas
Today's topic comes from a very traumatic dvd I was privy to on Sunday (our lord's day) eloquently titled "Boys Gone Wild".
My friend brings this dvd over and says "You've got to see this one guy! I think his father was a donkey!"
"I don't believe it!" I exclaimed. My friend is prone to exaggeration and "White" so I'm sure anything not white would seem bigger!
Lo and behold, there he was...ManHorse! I swear the thing was down to his knee! No lie...rent the video if you don't believe me! This scrawny, New York kid with such a vulgar display of power! If this kid rides a motorcycle, the thing needed it's own sidecar! The guy would never be able to jump rope, ride a bicycle (unless it's on a banana seat) or ballroom dance (unless he put a shoe on it). If he went swimming, he would drag the lake! Imagine the stuff that would get caught on it; fishing lures, weeds, maybe even those plastic things that hold a six-pack together! Most guys have "trouser snakes", this guy had a "trouser anaconda"!
The thing I learned about this video is that all the guys that were sooooo willing to "drop trou" were the ones who had little weiners and certainly didn't believe in grooming "down under". But ManHorse was shy and embarrassed about his special gift. This makes me laugh, my friends, because next time I see a guy at a club and he thinks he's god's gift to women, I will smile because I will be 99% certain that he's hung like a lightswitch!
My friend brings this dvd over and says "You've got to see this one guy! I think his father was a donkey!"
"I don't believe it!" I exclaimed. My friend is prone to exaggeration and "White" so I'm sure anything not white would seem bigger!
Lo and behold, there he was...ManHorse! I swear the thing was down to his knee! No lie...rent the video if you don't believe me! This scrawny, New York kid with such a vulgar display of power! If this kid rides a motorcycle, the thing needed it's own sidecar! The guy would never be able to jump rope, ride a bicycle (unless it's on a banana seat) or ballroom dance (unless he put a shoe on it). If he went swimming, he would drag the lake! Imagine the stuff that would get caught on it; fishing lures, weeds, maybe even those plastic things that hold a six-pack together! Most guys have "trouser snakes", this guy had a "trouser anaconda"!
The thing I learned about this video is that all the guys that were sooooo willing to "drop trou" were the ones who had little weiners and certainly didn't believe in grooming "down under". But ManHorse was shy and embarrassed about his special gift. This makes me laugh, my friends, because next time I see a guy at a club and he thinks he's god's gift to women, I will smile because I will be 99% certain that he's hung like a lightswitch!
Has the internet killed High School Reunions?
OK, I've been on this "Facebook" for a couple months now and I have to tell you...there is no need to attend high school reunions...ever!
I think it's cool that someone can look you up (and vice versa) and drop you a note to say that your life had such an impact on them. Isn't it funny how the memories make you feel tingly?
On the flip side, my friends, I will let you in on a secret that burns inside of me more than today's fast food extravaganza. How many of you out there are a little more "lovable" than you were back in high school? By this, I don't mean that you've been to therapy and have learned to control your road rage...NO! I mean, how many of you out there still look like you did in high school? Better yet, how many of you out there still weigh the same like in high school? I want to know if any of you still fit in the jeans you wore in high school. I do! Unfortunately,only one leg at a time!
I've already seen the look of horror and shock on the faces of my friends when I show them my prom picture (I think it's the only picture I have from HS)...but I must admit that I am not ready to see the look of horror and shock on the faces of my old friends when they see me now. I have to wonder how many other people feel this way and how many other people out there blow off any sort of reunion activity because of this reason.
So today's question is this: WHY DO PEOPLE ATTEND REUNIONS? AND IF YOU ARE THE TYPE THAT WILL NOT GO IS IT BECAUSE:
A) YOU REALLY DIDN'T LIKE ANYONE IN HIGHSCHOOL AND THEY CAN ALL F*** THEMSELVES
B) YOU REALLY WANT TO GO BUT YOU'RE AFRAID SOMEONE WILL HARPOON YOU BEFORE YOU MAKE IT THROUGH THE LOBBY
C) YOU HATE RANDOM REUNIONS AND WOULD PREFER TO ROUND UP YOUR GOOD FRIENDS ON YOUR OWN TERMS
D) YOU NEED TO TIME GET TO TIJUANA AND GET THAT DISCOUNTED TUMMY TUCK AND BOOB LIFT
I think it's cool that someone can look you up (and vice versa) and drop you a note to say that your life had such an impact on them. Isn't it funny how the memories make you feel tingly?
On the flip side, my friends, I will let you in on a secret that burns inside of me more than today's fast food extravaganza. How many of you out there are a little more "lovable" than you were back in high school? By this, I don't mean that you've been to therapy and have learned to control your road rage...NO! I mean, how many of you out there still look like you did in high school? Better yet, how many of you out there still weigh the same like in high school? I want to know if any of you still fit in the jeans you wore in high school. I do! Unfortunately,only one leg at a time!
I've already seen the look of horror and shock on the faces of my friends when I show them my prom picture (I think it's the only picture I have from HS)...but I must admit that I am not ready to see the look of horror and shock on the faces of my old friends when they see me now. I have to wonder how many other people feel this way and how many other people out there blow off any sort of reunion activity because of this reason.
So today's question is this: WHY DO PEOPLE ATTEND REUNIONS? AND IF YOU ARE THE TYPE THAT WILL NOT GO IS IT BECAUSE:
A) YOU REALLY DIDN'T LIKE ANYONE IN HIGHSCHOOL AND THEY CAN ALL F*** THEMSELVES
B) YOU REALLY WANT TO GO BUT YOU'RE AFRAID SOMEONE WILL HARPOON YOU BEFORE YOU MAKE IT THROUGH THE LOBBY
C) YOU HATE RANDOM REUNIONS AND WOULD PREFER TO ROUND UP YOUR GOOD FRIENDS ON YOUR OWN TERMS
D) YOU NEED TO TIME GET TO TIJUANA AND GET THAT DISCOUNTED TUMMY TUCK AND BOOB LIFT
Can you ever be friends with an "ex"?
Today's rant comes to you courtesy of good conversation over bad food.
During lunch, I'm listening to my friend talk about his ex girlfriend (they are now friends with benefits). And I'm wondering...Does this ever work out for anyone?
I am of the opinion that once you've kissed someone, you cannot just be friends. Once you've seen someone naked, you cannot see them as just a friend. There's no going back people! Especially if that person was really good in the sack.
I know what you're thinking, we've all done it before. Picture this...It's late, you're drunk, and you don't want to sleep alone. What do you do? You call the ex and the conversation starts "Hey! What are you doing?" Next thing you know you're listening to R. Kelley and you're doing a bump and grind of your own. Next thing you know, you're trying to sneak out before sunrise. It's a vicious cycle.
So here's my advise to you friends...Recycle cans not people!
During lunch, I'm listening to my friend talk about his ex girlfriend (they are now friends with benefits). And I'm wondering...Does this ever work out for anyone?
I am of the opinion that once you've kissed someone, you cannot just be friends. Once you've seen someone naked, you cannot see them as just a friend. There's no going back people! Especially if that person was really good in the sack.
I know what you're thinking, we've all done it before. Picture this...It's late, you're drunk, and you don't want to sleep alone. What do you do? You call the ex and the conversation starts "Hey! What are you doing?" Next thing you know you're listening to R. Kelley and you're doing a bump and grind of your own. Next thing you know, you're trying to sneak out before sunrise. It's a vicious cycle.
So here's my advise to you friends...Recycle cans not people!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
People are funny
People are funny (funny = strange not funny = ha ha). I was at Wal-Mart the other day and this goth-looking checker was making these odd comments to the people in line. I don't know if this was a survival mechanism she devised in order to keep herself entertained at what seemed to be a mundane task. This couple starts unloading their items onto the conveyor belt. Here I am with my one item (Michael Jackson's "Off The Wall" cd for $7.00) Tons and tons of food products appear; canned, frozen, produce, etc. I looked at the couple and the wife was around five feet tall. If she laid down she would be five feet tall as well. She was like a little meat cube. The husband was like a line backer. He was at least six feet tall, and probably 350 lbs. I looked at the couple and then looked at their kids who seemed to be following in their ginormous footsteps. I couldn't wait to see what the goth checker would say to them. Goths are always good for a few laughs.
As she began to scan the items, she looks at the conveyor belt full of food. The goth chick exclaims, "Wow, I don't know what it is but it seems like everybody is stocking up on food today. You guys have a bomb shelter or something? Oh I know you guys are stocking up for 2012 right? When the world comes to an end." The couple's kids looked scared and turned pale. "What does she mean the world is going to end on 2012?" asked the chubby boy. The parents did not say one word to her hoping that if they ignored her, she would shut up. The kids were suddenly in a panic that the world was going to end on 2012 and they were not worried about their obvious childhood obesity.
Food for thought...
As she began to scan the items, she looks at the conveyor belt full of food. The goth chick exclaims, "Wow, I don't know what it is but it seems like everybody is stocking up on food today. You guys have a bomb shelter or something? Oh I know you guys are stocking up for 2012 right? When the world comes to an end." The couple's kids looked scared and turned pale. "What does she mean the world is going to end on 2012?" asked the chubby boy. The parents did not say one word to her hoping that if they ignored her, she would shut up. The kids were suddenly in a panic that the world was going to end on 2012 and they were not worried about their obvious childhood obesity.
Food for thought...
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