Saturday, February 27, 2010

Look what i found! Juice Boxes!!!

it needs a twisty straw attached to it.

I make myself sick.

carsick, that is.

my motion sickness is EPIC. even loaded up with dramamine, i'm the chick on the boat to catalina who's laying down on the outside deck benches moaning and trying to sleep it off. steal my wallet, just bring over a bucket for me to puke in.

and today. well, TODAY i made myself carsick driving to the mall. not a curvy windy road. just straight down hawthorne. i've never been so happy to park my car and go shopping! "LAND!" i exclaimed as i bolted from the car, kissing the ground in relief. well, making a kissing motion towards the ground, because, really.


there are certain places where i feel that conversation is absolutely unnecessary. bathrooms, for one. thanks for the offer, lady, but i'm trying to piddle and you're not making it easy on my shy bladder. no, i don't remember where i got my shoes, but if you don't shut up soon, i might whiz on them.

dressing rooms are another. now i don't mind a quick comment when/if you come out to the big mirror. but when i sneeze, and you not only bless me twice but shove a kleenex under the door, i tend to yelp in surprise. i'm not wearing pants, could this wait?

also, i find it odd that you would ask me if i shop here often. i'm sure you're a lovely person, but i don't like you "that way." also, stop stroking my handbag.


gin and toothpaste is not a combination i would recommend.

that's sage advice, people. learn it, use it, live it.

although "gin and toothpaste" would be a great band name, n'est-ce pas?

so a completely different employee screwed things over yesterday. turns out for the past couple of months, she's helped herself to 30,000 bucks from the elderly man we drive. nice, right?

even nicer was leaving the house at 6:30am to try to remedy the situation with social services, LAPD, and merrill effing lynch. and his merrill effing lynch guy is a complete douchenozzle. "maybe you'll answer your phone next time i call, and these things won't happen."

yeah. because it's MY fault that this chick stole money. all because i wouldn't answer my phone. and if i had only answered my phone the day of the northridge quake, i could have used my superpowers to prevent that as well. gee, craig, thanks for the illumination.

and i totally would have answered my phone, too, if i wasn't in the middle of repairing the hole in the space/time continuum. because i'm THAT POWERFUL.

i wasn't even supposed to be here today.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

On Cash Bars

so, i'm getting married next year. and everyone has LOADS of opinions on what i should or shouldn't have at my wedding. i scour magazines, websites, and bridal books, looking for ways of saving money and still accomplishing wedding greatness.

but the thing that really bugs me? is the disdain for the cash bar.

as soon as you mention "cash bar", people look as though they've swallowed a lemon. let's break it down:

1. i'm putting two bottles of wine on each table. one white, one red. also included is the champagne toast. want more booze? take your happy ass over to the bar and buy some.

2. not everyone in the family drinks! i'm not going to cut back on the guest list in order to afford an open bar that only SOME people will use.

3. i didn't realize my wedding was your chance to get your drink on. dude, drink at home! go out with a nice guy who will cover your drinks! find a nice hobo who's willing to share! brew some moonshine! it ain't rocket scientry, people.

the thing about "tacky" is, no matter what, someone will find my wedding to be so. some people will love it, some will hate it. you can't please everybody, so why try? and if your focus is not on the fact that matt and i are getting married, and instead is on the fact that we're making you pony up for booze, then i hope you bought us a nice toaster.

word to your mother.

Bieber Fever?

who exactly is this "justin bieber" kid, and why am i listening to him croon about "one less lonely girl?" i mean, ladies, he's like, 12. it's not okay to find him squealably delicious. we all know what happened to leif garret.

i'm just saying.