April 29, 2004
Smack My Bitch Up
This should really be titled what babies smell like, but, I'm listening to that song right now, so I figured, "What the hell?" You know me, a little whim, a little wine, and pretty soon everyone's clothes are hanging from the chandelier!
The other day, I nostalgia bought (Nostalgia bought: When you buy something because it reminds you of a time a long time ago because of smell, sight, etc., EVEN if you don't fucking need it. Most oftenly occurs when spouse is away.) some Johnson and Johnson (and MOTHERFUCKING JOHNSON) baby shampoo. If there is one thing I am addicted to like crack (worse than that heroin habit I kicked a couple of years back), it is the way that babies smell. Their heads, specifically. Have you ever smelled that? I mean, "should've stopped by to get me high" and all that good stuff, but damn, I could carry a bunch of kids around like a bouquet of squirmy flowers and sniff those like my friend Kevin sniffed Scotch Guard in High School. Consequently, he fell of a building and didn't die because he was so damn high that the doctor said his body was nice and loose. He bounced. God, I love that kid. Kevin Chow, if you read this, you're my hero.
Where was I? Babies. Washing my hair, I opened the bottle expecting to be able to replicate that better times inducing smell on my own head. I opened the bottle, took a big whiff and SNEEZED. What the fuck? It smells like a french whore up in here. Here's another fucking tangent. When D.H. and I first met, I always thought that he was a busy guy (TCWH for male slut) because it always smelled like skank in his apartment. Turned out he was just a clean freak and vaccuumed about 30 times a week with that *gag* scented shit that smells like DING! DING! DING! French whore. Maybe I should say Uruguayan whore? I've never actually been to France, so I don't know what they smell like, but I have definitely seen a Uruguayan whore. And some American ones. And some Russian ones. And some Filipina ones. Hang on, hang on - got to think about it. I'm going to go with the Russian Whores for 1000, Alec. Okay. Washing hair. Open bottle. Russian Whore. I don't mind smelling like a whore - I mean, hey, I work with little kids, how much trouble can it get me in? But a baby? No more baby headed sweetness. Damn you, Johnson and Johnson! Who told you you could fucking change that? Although, I suppose with a name like Johnson and Johnson, you're looking to attract an older clientele...
Read Comments ｻ
on May 1, 2004 12:07 AM,
rachel said:
I remember that smell, as soon as I saw the picture that smell came rushing back. Thanks for the heads up. I'll never buy it.
on May 1, 2004 09:08 AM,
Alex said:
Well, if one person doesn't buy it, then I'm happy! It actually resembles a perfume I used to buy, but the name fails me now. I just wouldn't put it on a kid. I don't know. Maybe it grew on me. So what I'm really saying is, I have no clue.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 28, 2004
Step Away from the Cheap Glasses
You know, everytime I hang out with AT and her husband, we drink ridiculous amounts of wine. And at some point in the evening, I put on some ridiculous glasses. These are my Dexter look. And I was almost speaking like him at that point in the evening. Except I don't have a sister named Didi. Hey, you! Be glad I didn't blow this motherfucker up! I'd break your damn computer.
One of my students said that my smile was...funny. Whaddya mean? I growled back at her (No. Not fucking really. Let me live my daydreams, okay! After wiping 27 noses a day, sometimes I feel a little fucking disgruntled) It's so....so...This girl, who talks 24 -7 was at a loss for words! It's so square! she finally volunteered. All right. I'll buy that for a dollar. Beats getting told that I have child bearing hips. (Note to stupid motherfucker who said that to me: What on God's green earth made you think that I would go home with you after you said that? For the rest of y'all who can't see me, imagine the bewildered WTF? look on my face HERE???!!!!) Psst! Just for next time, compare me to Venus de Milo, okay? She's got some big honkin' hips and people think she is an object d'art! (Yeah, yeah, that's for you Mr. How do I get into a girl's pants on google. I don't care if you're 12 or not. Learn some fucking manners. Shit. Yeah. That would be the sound of me dismissing you right about now.)
When I started this blog, I had every intention of making myself look reasonable all the time, but I thought, what's the fucking point if not a little fun between friends? For that reason, and for the sole reason that I am drinking some Red REd wine (Oh. yeah. You make me feel so fine.), I posted that picture of me. Yes America, I am an asshole too. Here's my motherfucking membership card.
In a random thought, do you ever wonder what happens to the assholes that you went to school with? I went to school with a girl by the name of Samantha Dickinson (and I so hope you do a vanity google so that you can find yourself on here!) who I knew in 7th grade. She accused me of stealing her boyfriend. By the FUCKING way, I was 10. ABOUT 6 years away from puberty you psychotic cunt! (Long story, readers. 'Nother time, 'Nother bottle) Sam, as she liked to be referred to, could not comprehend the fact that I was 10 and she was 13, and that as a result, I was about as sexual as a, Shit...what am I looking for? 2nd time. Better than the first. I was about as sexual as a....eunuch residing in the Imperial Palace catering to the Last Emperor. Although I did eventually "fill out". Poor bastards. She decided that she was going to make my life hell for the last 38 weeks of the school year and did just that. She pushed me into the swing pole, laughed when I fell off because it had struck me from left shoulder to right hip damn near paralyzing me, and then when I had to be picked up later that day came up to me, whispered in my ear and said, "I was pushing you that way because I wanted to kill you." Umm, hello? Social services? She did all kinds of other shit, too. But it was that particular killing remark that just kind of stays with me, you know, just because I'm anal retentive and shit. *dripping sarcasm* So, I just wonder what kind of person she is today. I sincerely doubt that she's working in child care, or sales, or real estate, or as a waitress, or anything that requires interaction with people. Yeah. I'm Jenny MOTHERFUCKING Jones today. Buy me a fucking drink.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 28, 2004 11:14 PM,
rachel said:
I LOVE that picture.. square smile? I dunno but I do think it's great.
PS.. Dexter is the greatest ever.
Also I should do a post on my blog about all the people I hated in highschool... great idea.. thanks.
on April 28, 2004 11:20 PM,
Rose said:
Ah, the people we hated when we were younger. That's so funny. I don't know if I could truly come up with any. I was kind of the geek kid, so I didn't even spend much time hating my peers.
I think you need some more wine.
on April 28, 2004 11:57 PM,
amber said:
that girl sounds like a real bitch.
on April 29, 2004 06:26 PM,
Alex. said:
Rachel,
Well, you're the only one I've met (or not met) who doesn't think my smile is fucked up. And how drunk do I look in that picture?
on April 29, 2004 06:27 PM,
Alex. said:
Rose,
I was a TOTAL geek. Once I get to Momma's house, I'll have to send you some pics so you can have a good laugh. That's why I didn't understand why this chick thought I was stealing her boyfriend. I had no boobs. no body. short hair. could've been a boy.
on April 29, 2004 06:28 PM,
Alex. said:
Amber,
I certainly think she was. Still, I'd be curious to see what kind of person she was today. Sometimes it's a real fucking trip to run into people that you knew way back when - because YOU are different. Ya know?
on May 1, 2004 07:54 AM,
Howard said:
Love the smile! The glasses not so much.
on May 1, 2004 09:09 AM,
Alex. said:
H,
What can I say? They came free in my packet of airheads. At least the other ones cost a dollar at the dollar store. Apparently, you have to pay for quality!
on May 5, 2004 05:12 AM,
Howard said:
A blonde eating Airheads? Couldn't that be considered cannibalism?
on May 5, 2004 06:41 AM,
Alex. said:
Hahahahah! Yes, I suppose it could. I wish I could think of some funny one-liners. I'm never good off the cuff. Or on the cuff. Or with one liners at all!
ｫ Hide Comments
April 27, 2004
Stealing MY Thunder
Hmmm. Um. Hello? Excuse me? Now, I'm not going to point any fingers, but look what I saw on AOL today! Coincidence? I think not! Maybe I am missing some part of a bread trend. Far be it from me to notice. I've had my head up my computer's butt doing homework for the last eon straight. Color me partially disgruntled.
Know why kid's aren't learning anything in schools? Because they're TOO busy participating in Secretary's DAY! Mother's Day! Pan-Asia Pacific Day! Father's Day! Thanksgiving! Christmas! 30th Anniversary Day! Adopt an orphan day! Perhaps the only one I can argue for is Earth day. At least that's educational...grumble grumble. Maybe we'll churn out some good little team players who would do well at Hallmark, but they won't be the sharpest knives in the drawer. But that's okay, because they will damn well sure know how to throw together a mean invitation/announcement/greeting card.
I'm too tired to be funny. All those babies I wanted? FOR. GET. IT. Not a chance in hell. I was standing waiting for the elevator in my apartment building and I saw an OFFICIAL NOTICE , notifying us building residents that all diaper excrement was to be washed down the drain BEFORE diapers were disposed of. There is absolutely NO WAY IN HELL that I would do that. First of all, which drain? A sink? Shit in the sink? That grosses me out so much I can barely type it. That leaves the bathtub, and we all know that's a fantabulous idea. Maybe I'll just toss said excrement off the balcony. We have that shuper shexshy anti-pigeon netting (They are so stupid they just fly up to it, hang on to it and flap their wings for a good hour or so, anyway.), so I think it would land nicely on the neighbors balcony with a kerplop, depending on weight. Trajectory. Angle. It's a diaper! Are you meaning to tell me that all the people in Japan do this, and that is why we have to do this, too? I don't think so, pal. That's it. No tiny tots for me.
WTF? Is today Monday or something?
Read Comments ｻ
on April 27, 2004 11:18 PM,
rachel said:
THAT is gross... I still remember my mom washing my siblings cloth diapers out in the toilets... ew ew ew ew ew.. NO THANKYOU.. I don't even wanna pick up dog poo.. that's why we don't have one.. I still have issues with the catbox.. but I'm getting over those!
on April 28, 2004 12:16 AM,
Howard said:
Diapers? Just hang the kid's ass over the balcony. It's fun AND enviromentally safe too. No disposable diapers filling up landfills...and no baby crap in the sink.
on April 28, 2004 04:55 AM,
Rose said:
Baby poop looks a little like roasted pasilla chiles.
But roasted pasilla chiles taste better.
Just my two cents for Tuesday.
on April 28, 2004 08:49 PM,
Alex said:
Rachel,
That's what I'm fucking saying! DisGUSTing. You know, I used to like a kid named Gus, and then when he tried to kiss me, I ran away. I was 13. He was all like, "I thought this was what you wanted!" Men. A MAN wrote the fucking memo, you know.
on April 28, 2004 08:50 PM,
Alex said:
H,
You know, in China, the mother's actually have the split pants for the kids. So when the kid has to go, they just hold'em up, fold'em in half, the pants split, and the kid goes! I imagine that would work quite nicely!
on April 28, 2004 08:51 PM,
Alex. said:
Rose,
Have not tried the baby poop chilies yet. Will have to try when I'm in Phoenix. By the time I get there, we'll have tons of stuff to do!
ｫ Hide Comments
April 26, 2004
I'm so Excited! And I Just Can't Hide It!
I finally got some free time to go to the Commissary and buy some bread and (Yay and Behold!) they had reduced fat bread! I have been since reduced to a jealous monster since D.H. has told me that the CommY at ABC Air Force Base is packed to the gills with all things good and yummy. Every time Momma sends me coupons I cry, because we can't get that stuff here. Yeah, yeah, I'm spoiled.
So I got the bread home and was preparing for a lovely sandwich, when I opened the bag. What did I see?
Read More "I'm so Excited! And I Just Can't Hide It!"ｻ
No WONDER it's reduced fat (complete with forehead smack here) There's NO middle! If we had a mouse in here, I thought it would have tunneled through, but since I so expertly left a cheese plate on the page, I know there is no one messing with my bread!
Well THERE's 3 dollars well spent. I'll definitely sleep better tonight, y'all. As should you. Am I supposed to spread the mustard AROUND the hole?
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 27, 2004 03:53 AM,
She-Dork said:
The only thing you can do with something like that is cover it with sandwich meat and use mayo and mustard as your spackle.
Good luck...
on April 27, 2004 04:36 AM,
Rose said:
Heh. I'm sorry, Alex, all I can do is laugh. Heh. Ha! Low fat bread!
HA!
Can you take it back and get another one?
on April 27, 2004 02:15 PM,
rachel said:
Man.. I'm laughing too.. I mean I'm sorry but it's funny. I remember when my kid sister wouldn't eat bread with holes in it and my mom would yell at her and she'd cry then my mom would give in and make her another sammich which she'd promptly roll into a ball and pop in her mouth.. damn kids.
on April 27, 2004 02:16 PM,
Gary said:
Haha. Sorry, but that's hilarious. =D
I guess you could always look at it as being "Holy bread" and a sign you shouldn't eat that nasty low fat stuff, eh? =D
ｫ Hide Comments
April 24, 2004
Signs
I got in the car Thursday...what was playing? (pretend you can hear the cheesy music and my off-key singing. Get in an 80's frame of mind. Ready? Set? GO.) "All I need is a miracle! All I need is you!" I didn't know the rest of the words, so I just dun dun dunneed my way through the rest of it, as I drove around the runway to work. AND, I thought to myself, "Is somebody trying to tell me something? Because I really do need a miracle. In a big ass way. More time. More brain. Less sleep." But I just dismissed it as another random thought. Also, you know my ADD makes it damn near impossible for me to focus on any one thing more than say....Hunh?
After the song was over, Nelly Furtado came on. Except the DJ introduced her as "Nelly FurTARdo" which really bugs the piss out of me. The guy, as a DJ, sucks. Judging from his show, I am guessing that he got hired because he is bilingual. I'm cool baby, I can dig it! I just feel that as a Native English Speaker, he should be literate, too. I think that is probably the only gene? trait? that my parents are proud of passing on to me. A disgusting habit of being obsessively anal retentive about all things grammar. Yes Virginia, my parents still correct my English. How old am I? 28. Yes, I'm a married woman who is one month away from her Master's degree that still gets corrected (at the dinner table no less!) by her parents! *FUN* Actually, it used to piss me off, but, now I am happy that my parents, after shelling out a shitload of bucks want me to reflect that I am indeed educated.
And then I lost the rest of the day to nosepickers and sticky fingers and "are hot dogs made out of weiner dogs?" and crazy assed parents (and we are NOT! NOT! NOT! talking about that.) , but not before I saw a website that expressed dislike in profanity, because we're smarter than that. And I thought (little 'ole me of the "Motherfucker! Shit! Damn! Fuck!" with Tourette like precision) that I AM smarter than that. You can calm down now, because it will be a cold day in fucking hell before I stop potty mouthing it through life. However (and I am SOOO waving my hand through the hair to get you to listen RIGHT. NOW.) , HOWEVER, cursing for me is an art. More than a form of lazy, satisfying self expression, (TANGENT: Which reminds me: It is kind of like lazy, satisfying sex. And I am definitely of the opinion that sometimes that can be the BEST kind. Not everything has to be all damn hot and heavy up in herre, you know? If you disagree with me, well, shut up.) cursing is an extremely effective form of anger management for me. You anger me, I go home and say, "SHITFUCKCOCKSUCKERWANKER," about five or six times, and I feel MUCH! BETTER! Presto! Relief! I no longer feel stressed out. For me, it is not really a matter of intelligence and communication, but a matter of anger management and stress relief. And it's fucking free!!!!! I bet I could market that. How to curse your way to a BRAND! NEW! YOU! Lose weight, too!
So while I'm pretending to write my three papers due Monday! Tuesday! and Wednesday! because I am convinced that rather than let me graduate with a 4.0 the University is conspiring to kill me, I'm really just watching the signs. This much I know is true (Shameless ripoff of book title. Literature, crunch crunch, it's *yummy*!):
1. I need a miracle. If "you" is a person who can do my papers for me, then I need you, too.
2. I am disgustingly anal-retentive and I likes it.
3. I curse, therefore I am.
Linky Linkers: I will get to you this weekend, I PURROMISE. I have not forgotten you, my lovelies!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 25, 2004 03:15 AM,
rachel said:
Cursing IS an art form... Please tell Gary this.. sometimes he looks at me in horror as vialness spews from my lips ...
My cat Sammy has Tourettes.. he walks around and twitches and then he'll do this f*cked up meow.. he can meow normal.. this is what convinces me my cat is crazy.. like me.
on April 26, 2004 05:20 PM,
Alex said:
Gary does not believe in the lost art form? Curses! We'll just have to have a little talk with him when I get to Phoenix.
on April 27, 2004 02:41 PM,
Gary said:
Yes, we can talk about it. I try not to swear that much, although lately the Military has gotten the better of me.
I'm changing that as of now, 26APR04 2138.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 21, 2004
Swamped
When I was in High School, my best friend Beth and I used to write notes in list form. Efficient little fuckers, we were. In light of recent events (namely me not having any time to myself), I have decided to readopt that format.
No voice.
Meals for the past three days? Weight watchers for lunch, spinach for dinner. Cheese for breakfast if lucky.
Husband? Far away? Flimsy phone cuts me off. Hello? Hello! Hello? Hello! Can't hear you! Click!
Idle hands scribbled patterns into the carpet to be scrubbed out with RESOLVE tomorrow.
Overwhelmingly large 3 assignments hang over my head. Impending doom. Dun dun dun dun.
Kindergarteners? Kicking my A.S.S. (shh!) Talk. Incessantly. Move. Jerkingly. Picked noses and wiped tears.
Black circles under my eyes? Racoon is out. Well rested is in.
Adieu.
Oh. If you have linked me and would like me to link you back, please let me know. I am all about the RECIPROCITY. Hey! (lightbulb!) I can be a comments whore, and a LINK WHORE! I'll just slap that badge on my whore...on my whore...what the hell is that thing that the girlscouts wear? I can put it in my whorefolio!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 22, 2004 09:23 AM,
geoff said:
oooooooooooh i would love to be linked, but only if you want to link me (let's see if this reciprocity is for real!!!)
on April 22, 2004 10:42 AM,
rachel said:
I think that you allready link me.. however right now i'm very bitter and annoyed with anything that comes close to resembling my husband so I'm going to go make his life miserable instead of yours.
on April 22, 2004 01:14 PM,
Genevieve said:
I'd love to be linked too!
ｫ Hide Comments
April 20, 2004
Major Woody? Meet Major Asshole
Usually I try not to fucking offend, but it's been a bad day at the grindstone, and frankly, I could fucking care. Less. I came home today to a phone call from DH, to which he told me that he is NOT allowed to get a rental car, nor is he being given any type of allowance because he is supposed to eat in the chow hall. Fine. No problem. ABC Base? Bigger than Anna Nicole Smith's money grubbing ass before AND after her stupid diet, which did nothing a push-up bra and some sit ups couldn't do, by the way. The shuttle? Not until 4:00. P. fucking M. So apparently, not only is DH supposed to walk his skinny little ass to and from school each day (Round Trip 14 miles) , he is also supposed to walk to and from the chow hall (Round Trip 20 miles) every fucking day! His class? Starts at 4. A. fucking M. So the way I figure it, if he leaves the house at around 2:30 am in the morning, he should make it there on time. Thank God he can he can go for over 12 hours without eating, because with all the time he's going to spend walking, he won't have time to grab a bite!
The kicker to this bend over and fuck yourself without the Vaseline is that all the other guys from the other bases (even OTHER BASES IN JAPAN!) all get rental cars and daily allowances. Oh yeah. And the guys who live 20 minutes from the base? Hotel? Check. Daily Allowance? Check. Rental Car? Check. So my question to YOU MAJOR ASSHOLE is this: WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM? You have no problem on signing off for plasma TVs for every shop in the squadron, but you can't provide my husband with a rental car so he can drive his ass the 10 miles to the chow hall to EAT FOR FREE? FUCK YOU! You sir, receive my official MOTHERFUCKER OF THE DAY award. Hell, you might win my MOTHERFUCKER OF THE WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING YEAR award. I could just scream right now, but I don't have a voice, so I'll give y'all a little guidance. Find the Phunk Junkeez. I don't remember the name of the album. Listen to "Devil Woman." Wait until the end. When he says "Fuckin' Bitch" and then screams? That is what I want to sound like.
I suppose I could put my "motherfuckers" where my mouth is and do something military wifely like write a letter to the BIG COLONEL, like so many others do. But let's consider the repercussions. An abundance of those letters make the writers sound like whiny bitches. I don't want to sound like a whiny bitch. I want to sound eloquent and educated. However, I have learned that with some things military, you just bend over and take it. And, I doubt that I could produce something erudite without revealing MAJOR ASSHOLE's real name, much less sounding rational. All of this would just result in a whirlwind of shit for DH, not something I really want to do.
Adding to my motherfucking frustration?
1.) I slept through a dinner invitation from AT and her husband. The bitch of it all? I cannot call to apologize because *HEY!* I can't motherfucking talk!
2.) Shit load! of! Homework! Time for TCWH! None!
CAN YOU MOTHERFUCKING HEAR ME NOW?
*ahem*
Read Comments ｻ
on April 20, 2004 10:58 PM,
Rose said:
Ah, the things I get to try to look forward to. I'm learning that military matters are just things you smile and take. But I, like you, am not used to just sitting back and taking shit, so it's gonna be rough for me too.
Hang in there.
on April 21, 2004 04:53 AM,
rachel said:
Let me tell you... when I think Gary is getting jacked over the first thing I always without fail say is "LET ME CALL MY DAD" (O6) and I go off on a rant and blah blah blah. Gary just says "NO rach.. it's not going to do anygood. I might get what I want this time but I'll be seen as the whiney bitch who had to call his father-in-law" and I bite my nails and chew my tongue and go in the bathroom in my 'corner' and cry.
The first time I had surgery in Texas they wouldn't let him have off to be with me.. not even to drive me home.. (he was playing secretary at the time.. not EVEN ON HIS JOB).. my dad got mad about that. I didn't call him to tell him he merely asked if Gary was going to get off work and I honestly replied 'no'. I did ask Dad to NOT do anything about it though. We would be fine. I took a cab home. And the next 2 surgeries in Texas he was able to go with me... I can by no thought process explain what goes thru the minds of these military high ups sometimes. It makes no sense.. the same one who said DH can't have a rental is probably be driven around by a fucking GI.
Growing up in a Navy household and married into an Airforce one I've heard it all.. well right when I think I've heard it all... I'm told something new ... blows my mind.
Welcome to the military.. no its not all f*cking fun and games.. regardless what you f*cking civilians think.
There's my rant.. we love you Alex **hugs**
on April 21, 2004 11:38 AM,
Gary said:
Did he try calling his Shop Chief or his Section Commander (insert Section Commander's Secretary, heh). He needs to call his Orderly Room and explain the situation. If you're staying off station (as i'm assuming he is because he's 7 miles away from school) you're supposed to get extra per diem because your food cost is going to be higher.
If he's not staying off station, then all I can say is Army bases suck. ;) Seriously, though, he should call his Orderly Room and talk to someone and see if they can handle it for him... If they're the ones that said no on the Rental Car, then he needs to call the Flight Chief and then the Section Commander.
I can't see anyone in my Flight accepting the fact that he has to walk 7 miles to and from school every day... But maybe I just have good Supervision.
on April 21, 2004 01:51 PM,
geoff said:
oh dear, sounds like a bad situation. send him some flour in the mail and he'll die of shock thinking it's anthrax!
on April 21, 2004 02:54 PM,
Simon said:
I'm sensing some anger here. I know it's subtle, but I can certainly read between the lines.
on April 22, 2004 02:03 PM,
Thx1138 said:
There is absolutely no reason DH should be going through what you described. The JFTR (Joint Federal Travel Regulations) specifically states that he is allowed per diem when on his TDY status (restrictions do apply...but I don't think so in this case). He or someone on his behalf (supervisor) needs to contact his orderly room and try to make arrangements for him. If they call to the base he's at in the states their facilities (MPF/Finance) can help him out. I wouldn't go around yelling Fuck!!!! (although it is fun to do that from time to time) but I would make a friendly/concerned call to his workcenter and inquire on his behalf. Good Luck.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 19, 2004
It All Started Innocently Enough.
OR Wherein TCWH proclaims her love for gay men.
As I mentioned yesterday, I was whisked away to downtown for some Summer Sunday Socializing. Not very much fun when you have to get up at 5:30 the next a.m. to get ready for school, but my caretaker was not to be deterred, as he had strict instructions from DH to get me out of the house in his absence. Although, I think DH maybe had dinner in mind. Not drinks n' dykes. "Be ready in 25 minutes," he ordered. "I am NOT taking no for answer." So I gathered my sighing self, slithered into the shower, and got ready to go. We chatted all the way down to Tokyo, and within 45 minutes I found myself standing in the balmy night air, Corona in hand, surrounded by a young inebriated gentleman who kept pinching my upper arm and saying, "YOU are so pretty. I like penises, but DAMN GIRL! You take the cake!" He repeated this every 30 seconds or so, and punctuated it with swigs from his own Corona. After the 3rd or 4th time, I smiled at CT and admitted, "You're right, this is just the medicine I needed!" And what girl wouldn't really?
I will say that I was hit on by a young Canadian woman who came right out and said, "Are you gay?" When I replied in the negative, she immediately finished up the tidy little conversation and walked away. "You know," CT shrugged "Time investment and all that jazz." "Sure" I smiled through the lime tidbits swirling around in my teeth (because nothing makes me happier when you go to a bar and THEY KNOW how to serve a Corona. Corona without the lime? It's a fucking travesty. Tragedy.), although I was a little suprised by her abruptness. "Shut UP!" CT admonished "She hit on you within the first five minutes we were here!" So I promptly removed my head from my ass and went about having a *FABULOUS* with a capital FABULOUS time. I was missing DH a little bit, but was glad he was in another country. Last time we went to a party, all the men were sidling up to him and saying, "Wouldn't you rather go home with a real man?" and then giving me the dagger of death eyes when he said he was married. To a woman, no less.
I had such a good time, in fact, that I danced and socialized and flitted around until nearly 11:15. Two hours and fifteen minutes AFTER I turn out of Cinderella into the lonely deployed wife. The highlight of my evening came in this form:
A young flight attendant that I met who was SO! DAMN! CUTE! handed one of these to me. Thinking that it was a pack of matches (Hey, hey, hey. It was FUCKING dark in there, all right?) , I tucked it inside my shirt collar so that it was sticking out a little bit. This amused him to no end, and he ran off and grabbed another one so that I could stick it into the other side of my shirt. It wasn't until the drive home that CT said, "Honey, you know those are condoms, right?" and I just laughed because I really hadn't had the faintest that I had been socializing around with two condoms sticking out of my shirt. TCWH (THAAAAAT'S ME!) advocates safe sex. The little mascot on there, Bumpy, was just so damn cute, the last thing that I associated him with was sex. And I can hear you now, smirking, "But sure, you associate him with fire? Have another drink, TCWH."Thank you. I think I will! (Psst...if you can't read the small print, because I had to shrink it, it says, "bumpy! says RIGHT THERE!" and "bumpy! says FEELS GOOD!")
Oh what a night! *Twinkle*
Read Comments ｻ
on April 20, 2004 03:03 AM,
Surfcat said:
Right on - Ooooh Yeah! What should a guy or woman (gay or straight) make of a woman with condoms hanging out of her clothing? Either way, this is a great visual!You know how to party girl! Right on - Ooooh Yeah!
on April 20, 2004 08:34 AM,
rachel said:
Dude.. wait till the first time someone says "omfg! You can be my FAGHAG!"... it's like the most wonderful "I am loved" feeling.. haha
on April 20, 2004 04:20 PM,
Simon said:
Nice touch, condoms just hanging out. That's a great conversation starter.
on April 21, 2004 01:13 AM,
frank said:
"Thinking that it was a pack of matches (Hey, hey, hey. It was FUCKING dark in there, all right?) , I tucked it inside my shirt collar so that it was sticking out a little bit. This amused him to no end, and he ran off and grabbed another one so that I could stick it into the other side of my shirt." ----That is awesome!!
ｫ Hide Comments
April 18, 2004
TCWH: So Damn Accomodating
Happy Sunday Fair Readers! In the interest of raising site traffic, I have decided to be Ultra (That's right, ULTRA! Like the newest Marlboro's!) accomodating and SUCK IN (You are getting very, very, sleepy. No! Wait! Look into my eyes, damnit! Look into my eyes! Or I guess look into your screen. ::shrugs:: Concentrate, DAMNIT!) anyone who happens by here by accomodating their requests. I'm like Subservient Chicken, only I'm vocal. And I do not perform sexual favors. Or do housework. Or jump and down and quack. Or do anything that the damn chicken does. Thus, without further ado, I present the following: (Ummm. No drum roll here. How about some 70's porn music? Bow chicka wow wow!)
Dear how do i get a girl to let me go down her pants,
Firstly, I must apologize to you. I am sure that upon perusing my site, you were disappointed to find no such advise. Yesterday I stated that you may go fuck yourself or someone else, but apparently herein lies the problem. You have not found the *lucky* lady who will allow you to fumble your way into the immediate vicinity of her *ahem* vagina. That being said, I hope your search was not entirely fruitless. For advice, not women.
Secondly, the issue at hand. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you are all of about, oh, 12. But for legal purposes, I will pretend that you are 18. I will also tell you the same thing that I told my cousin, when we had this talk. If you are going to get a girl to let you go to 3rd base (Because I'm so up on the teen lingo, y'all!), you damn well better be sure that you're ready to invest some time and money. Or go get you a slut, and just get the whole fucking ordeal over with.
What you must first realize is that throwing on some (Insert whatever fucking stupid music you listen to here, like J-Kwon. Let's revisit him. I guarantee you that sharing some pot with a girl and then kicking her to the curb because she won't do what you want her to is not the advice that you need to be listening to.) is not going to cut it. Well, maybe it will, but there exists an abundance of artists out there who I assure you will help you reach your goal.
My personal favorite is this band:
. Throw this baby on the record player, cue it to "Afternoon Delight", turn that shit all the way up, and let the magic happen. If you're old enough, I'd also indulge in some wine. If you're not old enough, which I am sure you aren't, I'd also indulge in some wine. Some nice Boone's farm - although not the blue kind, because it will also turn
your tongue blue.
Hmmm...lost train of thought. Was whisked away while writing for drinks and fun, and now, well...You're on your own!
Wishing you luck!
TCWH.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 19, 2004 07:47 AM,
rachel said:
skip the boone farm.. save money and get Mad Dog.. then you can save up enough to take her to the local Burger King and get her something from the value menu!
on April 20, 2004 02:57 AM,
Surfcat said:
What no quacking? What was the whole thing about accommodating? Oh well. Next time for sure.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 17, 2004
Guilty Pleasures in Japan
Walking around "THE MALL" with some friends tonight after dinner, I encountered this. I immediately started giggling. The male of the couple, who is probably more accustomed to me being...well, me, said something along the lines of me being perverted. The funny thing is, it never struck me this way. I was laughing at the tummy part. AND, because the first part of the "H" is missing, I though it was "Fold it in your hand" - not that anyone I know has EVER folded a crepe in their hand. Fucking AGIVEMEABREAKWILLYOU? Speaking of which, what kind of excuse will I get to make after I am done with the Master's program on the 19th? What of my stupid remarks then? Guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I then told him that I hadn't thought of it that way, and HE should get HIS mind out of the gutter. Embarrassing for me, really. 9 out 10 times I would have beat him to that assumption. However, I thought this was too good not to share. Hold it in your hand, love it in your tummy. Even more embarrassing was that as I had to get situated to take the picture (And believe you me, with the new toy you get situated, there's a add on to take pictures. But when I have I ever had anything against being conspicuous?), the people working there were saying, "Irasshaimase!" Welcome! Welcome! I felt kind of guilty. I'll get over it.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 18, 2004 02:06 AM,
geoff said:
TCWH! forgive me, i haven't been around for a while (reading blogs, that is), i will be adding you to my links ok? thanks for your comments... by the way, CBCs are just like ABCs (A=American C=Canadian, remember, i'm in canada)
on April 18, 2004 03:13 AM,
rachel said:
I woulda thought the same thing... I wouldn't have been thinkin about crepes... =D ok i'm off now .. imma gonna go play at rose's house taday
on April 18, 2004 04:32 PM,
dk said:
Hi Alex. Came across this, thought of you:
http://www.seaweedproductions.com/hapa/
on April 20, 2004 02:53 AM,
Surfcat said:
The new toy does a great job! It is dubious that you were embarrased, but I'll buy it ;-) It seems taht every other post, you need to say (in a little girl's voice) "I didn't mean it like that" about some double en tendre.
I think that it's great!
ｫ Hide Comments
On Glass
Half Empty? Half Full. Half Empty? Half Full.
These are the things I am free to do. Half full! Half full!
I may eat potato chips dipped in spaghetti sauce accompanied by banana peppers with Ferrero Rocher Chocolate for dessert for 21 days in a row.
I may sprawl across the entire bed and sleep on top of all the pillows and all the covers.
I may play the Indigo Girls and other unappreciated CD's and sing at the top of my lungs. (Betcha REALLY wish that I lived right around the corner now, dontcha? Shut up. The chick upstairs sings "The Ketchup Song at the top of her lungs and dances around on the balcony. It's a little bit of heaven right here on earth! She even knows all the words! *twinkle*)
I may play "Rub You the Right Way" by Mr. Gill as loud as I want to and as many times in a row and move all the furniture out of the way and dance around as wildly and as stupidly as I want to without being interrupted.
I may watch 36 hours of continuous TLC and MTV reruns if it so pleases me.
I may blog without abandon without feeling neglectful.
I may walk around for the entirely of the TLC/MTV marathon without showering if it so pleases me (I feel pretty. Oh so pretty! I feel pretty and witty and...")
I may work on my ridiculously long Teacher Work Sample for many hours at a time without feeling like a ridiculously neglectful wife.
Yup, and if I can convince myself that all these things are *great*, I'll be just fine! *TWINKLE*
Read Comments ｻ
on April 18, 2004 03:03 AM,
amber said:
hang in there, girl.
on April 18, 2004 03:12 AM,
rachel said:
you know.. it sucks when they're gone but when you put it that way.. all the stuff i can do? It sounds fun....you'll be great i promise! :)
on April 20, 2004 02:45 AM,
Surfcat said:
I love your attitude on this one! Like I always say:
"Dance like nobody's watching, and love like it ain't goin to hurt!"
ｫ Hide Comments
New Toy New Toy New Toy
Apparently, D.H. has figured out a way to baffle me for the entire three weeks that he is gone. He has bought me a new toy:
With my technological prowess, I should be able to turn the damn thing on just in time to catch his arrival at the airport!
And guess what? It has a digital voice recorder on it, too! But, I have decided to start keeping a notebook by my bed, too. So we'll see what kind of literary hi jinx that unearths. Hell, maybe I'll keep it on the bed, since I'll have the California King all to my DAMN self.
SIDE NOTE: I usually don't like to jump on any wagons, but I was pleasantly surprised and delightedly amused by the way some people have stumbled upon this page as of late. Let's take a look, shall we?
1. educated beyond her intelligence (Yahoo) 2 Ooh! Ooh! Somebody knows where I am! Maybe it is D.H.
2. what goes on in the girl's mind pics (Google) 1 This one caused me to spit soda out my nose. First of all, if you are looking for the female perspective, I am one of the LAST girls to ask, because I'll probably tell you to go fuck yourself. Or go fuck someone else. Not to be rude, I'm just sayin'.
3. I'm sorry Miss Jackson I am for real and OutKast (Google) 1 Okay, this one actually might be legit, you know, since I quote Andre 3000 all the time and shit.
4. beyond song naughty girl to hear (Google) 1 Bueller? Bueller? What the hell is this?
5. crack contactplus (Google) 1 Somebody make a joke, please. Or decipher this for me. I'm stumped.
6. Gaijin girls beautiful pictures (Google) 1 Momma always says not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so, if you get here looking for beautiful girls, ummm...I'm sorry. Go somewhere else. Or go down to Bar Row. They have lots of Russian Hookers down there that have enough make up on so that they look pretty after a full on night of drinking. I don't know this from experience, of course. I just heard it from someone while I was volunteering at the orphanage.
7. select girl's boob size (Google) 1 J Kwon, is that you? Admittedly, there is something Weird Science about this search. Any man who is looking to select a companion by first finding out how to select boob size is a sad, sad man. Or woman. Hey, I don't discriminate.
8. sleep intelligence (Google) 1 No sleep, and no signs of intelligence, either. Go back from whence you came. Although, judging from my lack of traffic lately, except for the one day that Rose so graciously pimped herself for me, I should say, "Come on in! Have a drink! Have three! Stay awhile!"
9. spring break 04 spankings (Google) Pleading the 5th on this one.
AND MY MOST FAVORITALICIOUS ONE EVER: (Ready? Ready? Are you sure? Nevermind. Just kidding. Did that make you want to smack me, or what?)
Insert Heavenly Music here. Or Handel's 'Messiah'. Whichever you prefer
10. Pillow facial disfiguration.
I shall leave that one commentless. It is the piece de resistance (Yes! I know it's supposed to have an accent! I don't know how to do that!) in my little bag of tricks. Think Felix.
I shall fidget with my new gadget until I figure it out. Or fall asleep. Or spontaneously combust. Parting will be such sweet sorrow.
P.S. If you think it takes to long to leave me a comment, you can always write to me. That's okay, too.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 17, 2004 01:49 PM,
rachel said:
When Gary left he got me a new toy too... it however wasn't rated PG .... or even R.. and took the cheap batteries...
on April 17, 2004 03:48 PM,
Alex. said:
R,
Have I ever told you that I LOVE how candid you are? I turned beet red when one of my friends asked me if I wanted to go to an onsen with her (the public bath, where you go nude). And that's not taboo!
on April 17, 2004 07:41 PM,
Pixy Misa said:
#5 is actually pretty boring - someone looking for a way to copy the "Contact Plus" program.
on April 17, 2004 10:34 PM,
Alex. said:
Just goes to show you what I DON'T know. Now, what I can't figure out is how something like that came up on my blog!
on April 18, 2004 10:08 AM,
Mark said:
Somebody Googled "Shampoo as anal lube" last week and my site came up.
Tell me that shit wan't make you scratch your head and say "hmmmm"?
ｫ Hide Comments
April 16, 2004
My Indian Name is Bangs Head Frantically Against Wall
OR Go Blog Yourself.
My blogging, as of late, has sucked (Yes, yes, for lack of a better word and all that SHIT. Want to help me out? Find a BETTER WORD for me.) I spend all day working my ass off, then come home and work my ass off, and then go to sleep while still mentally working my ass off, and feel not one ounce of creativity until right before I fall asleep.
Read More "My Indian Name is Bangs Head Frantically Against Wall"ｻ
Right as I close my eyes, right before I lose conciousness, that is when my mind starts weaving unbelievable phrases. They just pop into my head like a gift. Almost like reading a book. And I am the kind of person who reads books like that. I don't give a SHIT about the plot. I'll even go on record as saying I don't give TWO SHITS about the plot. I am there for the words. I eat them up, like vitamins. And I am the kind of person who eats vitamins. Marvel at how the author has taken words that so sophomorically (Nope. I don't even care if I have misused that word) fall out of my mouth and off of my tongue to make me sound relatively concious.
Anyone who knows me knows that I NEED my sleep. Especially at this point in the game. No sleep, and TCWH becomes a ranting, raving, alcohol guzzling, foul mouthed (Wait, wait, wait...I'm making a point here. I know that I'm USUALLY like that, anyway.), Grumpy-assed BITCH.
I was talking to Mark the other day (Yes, I think e-mailing is talking. Humor me, will ya?), and we were talking about some bloggers of note, and how they feel the need to POST! SOMETHING! GREAT! with every post, and as a result post once a month. Suck. I wrote something psycho along the lines of... (Wait, I'll go find it. Scurries off)
I do agree with you about the whole standards thing. But you know what? I get sick of that. The Here is my WONTASTIC fucking post for the month, and I get to read it again and again and again. Fuck that. I want to know what you had for dinner. I want to know that your friend died. What your daughter looks like. Your socks don't match. That you don't like Jimmy Buffet. (Who sounds like the stalker now?) Know what I mean?
And that's alll she wrote! My little rant about the sleep? Means I am not dragging my butt out of bed to write down the snippets that scatter around in my brain right before I fall asleep. I'd be up all fucking night. Ooh! Ooh! Write that down! No, no, no! It will sound better if you type it like that!! No, like that! No, erase that! I mean, can you really fucking imagine?
Thus, my dilemma. I know my blogging sucks as of late. But do you really want to hear about how I chowed down that Weight Watchers Fettucine Alfredo and thought it was DEE! VINE! ? Or how I only got about five minutes of Alex time to myself yesterday because parents kept coming into the classroom and wanting to talk? Or how I am terrified that everytime I spend extended periods of time around little kids that my humor and intelligence are "elementary-ized"? Or how I am so fucking exhausted from school that everyone who meets me thinks I'm a dumb blonde because I cannot say anything coherent? Or how I obsessed yesterday that I looked stupid because I wore capris with long socks and sneakers and a shirt and a hoodie that were not even close to matching? Probably not.
God (Or should I try and emulate a real dumb blonde and say, "Gah"? WTF, JESSICA SIMPSON? WHAT THE FUCK?! Why yes, I am screaming and tearing my hair out. I don't understand why she thinks omitting the d would stop her from taking the Lord's name in vain. I mean, if someone calls me Al - and I will totally call you Betty - I STILL know they are talking about me, you know?) , somebody get me an EFF YOU SEE KAY EYE ENN GEE hobby, y'all. Or a recorder, then, as I'm falling asleep, I can just hit the little record button and start talking. It'll be for both our own goods, I swear.
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 16, 2004 02:53 AM,
Mr Mouse said:
You could have explained what a "hoodie" is for those of us without a clue. And some cheese would be rather nice.
on April 16, 2004 07:31 AM,
TCWH said:
Mr. Mouse,
Your wish is my command, please scroll down. I hope that it is to your liking. I have to add that I don't know how much cheese you eat.
on April 16, 2004 03:48 PM,
rachel said:
A hoochie by 'definition' is a kind of trampy girl .. 'a girl, especially on who is sexually promiscuous'. But that is just definition.. there isn't one for guys... infact we're discussing that on my forums right now.. anyway in MY opinion a hoochie is whatever WE feel like that girl being at the moment.. because we are older and wiser and .. damn its really early in the morning I am going back to bed..and I want some cheese too..
AND for the record Alex.. your posts are NEVER boring and I love to read them and look forward to it all the time.
on April 16, 2004 09:18 PM,
Surfcat said:
There is no reason to pander for compliments; I love your blogging! BTW my socks do match, I go by thickness, not color, texture or pattern. I too often think of genius things as I nod off or when I'm in dreamland. Oh well. I like to think that dreamland is a beautiful place, it's the alarm clock that explodes that whole gig and brings us back to work, pressure and pain...
on April 16, 2004 09:25 PM,
rachel said:
bwahahahahaha I thought it said hoochie.. hahahaahaha
hoodies are sweatshirts with hoods.. love em..
on April 16, 2004 10:16 PM,
Howard said:
A,
I think you need to step away from the caffeine for just a minute or two. Mmmkay? And no, I'm not a Doctor, but I did sleep with a couple of nurses.
on April 17, 2004 03:52 PM,
TCWH said:
SC,
Didn't mean to pander (GOOD WORD, by the way! Right up there for me with dolt). Have you ever watched an HBO special over and over? Sometimes that's what I'm worried about. I mean, there's no end to my amusement with little kids, but y'all might no be so amused, know what I mean, VERN? I like the idea of matching by thickness. I think that would save much heartbreak. AND, thank you for the compliment.
on April 20, 2004 02:39 AM,
Surfcat said:
I have realized over and over in my life that kids are what it's all about. I loved it when I was a kid and I love it now when I "feel" like a kid. Most of my jollies are now realized vicariously through my kids.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 14, 2004
Military Base Mathematics
Y'all have to understand where I live. In order to get home, I have to drive down one long stretch of road (about the size of a football field), go out one gate, drive past a guard into another, and then cross some train tracks. As I neared the football field stretch of road, I noticed brake lights. Lots and lots of brake lights. No problem I thought, there was a good song on the radio, I'd wait it out. (Like I had a fucking choice. It's ALL about options!) (driven by spoiled high school kids and people who care more about their car image than the food they put in their mouths) snake up to the front of the line. I pulled over to the left a little to watch him, hoping and praying that he or she was not a total fuckface that would simply *click* put on the blinker and proceed directly to go. Guess what? She or he was. Okay, okay, okay, I remember thinking. One car. It is okay. One asshole. One asshole doesn't have to spoil it all. Then, came a red mitsubishi. Then, a red acura. They were doubling! And how far had I moved this whole time? Ding! Ding! Ding! You're right! Another two inches! A five minute trip took me 42 minutes. This is what I noticed:
For every 1 leader asshole, there will be 3 others who follow.
For every 5 assholes, 2 are red cars.
For every 4 assholes, 12 more will follow.
38 minutes later, as I neared the front of the line, I noticed that ALL THE ASSHOLES were making a break for it. Quick, quick, get in that lane so you can put your blinker on and FORCE (and by Force, I mean, get the front end of your car RIGHT in there so that I cannot possibly drive around you even though I have been waiting her for 3 fucking quarters of an hour, and you 5 minutes!) your way in front of me! No! I don't have anywhere to be! No! I don't have a final due today in about 3 hours that I still need to work on! Sure! Go ahead! Not even the obligatory "thank you" hand gesture. Not that it would have made a difference at this point.
Worry not. I got home a ridiculous amount of time later. I'm thinking of sending a copy of this post to the base paper. (Yeah right, y'all. Like I would ever do anything to stick up for myself. Except stick my tongue out behind your back.) What makes this situation even more infuriating is that the minute (Yes, yes, the FUCKING minute) I drive off base, there's the Japanese, bowing and driving, letting me in all over the place, guiding me out into traffic, and extending their general courtesy all over the road. Makes me want to stand at the gate with a sign that says, "What in THE HELL is WRONG with you people?" I don't think that would go over to well with the Colonel. But oh believe you me, I was entertaining some motherfucking ideas. In my mind, I got out of my car, went up to that Aristo, that mitsubishi, that acura, and banged on the windows, gesturing wildly, screaming, "Don't we all have somewhere to go?" "Don't we all want to get home?" and turning around to the ear-splitting sounds of applause to all those non-assholes who waited in line like me. But I, I took the road less traveled y'all.
Military Base Mystery: In the drizzling, I saw some families walking down the football field stretch with pizza boxes. At first, I thought they were holding them to shield themselves from the rain, which of course is what I would have done, but as I watched, they just walked, holding them at their sides. They must have been hungry.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 15, 2004 06:55 AM,
Simon said:
How did you get that picture? In fact, how do you load up all of these pictures in every post?
on April 15, 2004 03:34 PM,
Howard said:
That, my dear A, is exactly why I like my big ol' gas-guzzling Chevrolet Truck. Anyone tries that "You better let me in" shit is going to get 3 tons of All-American steel wedged in their ass crack.
on April 15, 2004 08:43 PM,
Surfcat said:
Cool animated gif!
on April 16, 2004 12:39 AM,
Alex said:
H,
Laughed my ass of when I read your comment, and considering that I have not been LAUGHING as of late because of the military, I thank you. Heartily. Did I mention how some ass jack in an SUV tried to get in, and when denied pulled up even farther and bullied his way in? I need a big ass truck, too.
on April 16, 2004 12:40 AM,
Alex. said:
ASS OFF.
on April 16, 2004 12:41 AM,
Alex. said:
SC,
Spank you. Spank you veddy much. I stole it from my teechur.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 13, 2004
The Call
Our phone rang at 10:38 last night. How do I know? Because I had passed out from exhaustion around 9:30 and was well into my bizarro dreams when the contraption not 4 inches from my head JANGLED! BLATANT! DISCONTENT! (Can phones exhibit blatant? Discontent? I am the ONE that is in charge here, so I say WITHOUT a DOUBT. See: TCWH crossing her arms and turning her body the other way.) As soon as I heard that fucking contraption I nearly jumped out of my skin. I strained to hear what D.H. was saying and heard this:
D.H: Mmm Hmmm. Oh No. NO! NO!
And in my mind, we were already back on the plane for (insert family emergency here). I already had half my shit packed by the time he got off the phone. "Shit!" he spit, putting the phone down not so gently in the receiver. "What?WHAT?WHAT?WHOWASITWHATDIDTHEYWANT?" I bugged him. Turns out he might have to go to work. After working all day. To stare at a plane all night.
I have to explain my psychoses about middle of the night phone calls here. It's quite simple. Don't blink, or you'll miss it. When I was little, we lived overseas. Any time the phone rang in the middle of the night, it was death/cancer/aids/your worst nightmare. I suppose I am like one of Pavlov's dogs...Wait, wait, wait, wouldn't that make me a bitch? (Sense of humor warning! Watch out! Watch out!) Whenever the phone rings before nine, I am happy for the attention. Whenever it rings after nine, my adrenaline gets going and I immediately suspect a horrible thing.
So imagine my pleasure at receiving this half-assed phone call after the "good time" stating that my husband has to go back to work. *Sure* I've got only 4 days left with him before you rip him out of my arms. *Sure* I enjoy sleeping alone curled into the smallest circle possible under my blankets and getting almost no sleep because YOU KEEP FUCKING CALLING and going to work the next day! *Sure* I don't need to spend time with him! *Sure!* I can manage! Fuckers.
Oh, and if you're that bitch driving the Charcoal Gray Skyline GTS who cut me off on the way home because you obviously don't know how to merge with a line of oncoming traffic? Fuck you, too.
In additional news, I found the sex scene in Enemy at the Gates with Jude Law VERY DISTURBING. What WAS that expression on her face? Certainly not pleasure. And if it is? Ummm, let me talk to you in private... (whispering) If you have sex with men or anybody for that matter ?with that face on? you'll scare the heebiejeebies out of them. Just so you know. My good deed is done for the day! What'd y'all do today?
Read Comments ｻ
on April 13, 2004 01:34 PM,
nongirlfriend said:
Now I'm trying to remember that girl's facial expression...I'll have to watch it again just to see her non-O face.
on April 13, 2004 01:56 PM,
amber said:
TCWH, is DH going to iraq? what's the deal, girl?
on April 13, 2004 02:07 PM,
Ted said:
As our folks get older, my wife and I have gotten into the same 'dread' mode about late-night phone calls.
on April 14, 2004 06:01 AM,
Simon said:
I know where you're coming from. Calls after 9pm are only from those who can't work out the time difference or wrong numbers.
As for DH getting called away, you can look at it this way: you'll have plenty of blogging time while you can't sleep!
on April 14, 2004 07:57 AM,
rachel said:
Alex.. where is he going? ARGH! TELL ME!
Just come here I'll share my whin. er .. wine with you!
on April 15, 2004 09:03 AM,
TCWH said:
Nongirlfriend,
You have to watch it again and tell me. Her face just sticks in my mind. Very disturbing. What grossed me out even more, and outed me as a straight prude is how dirty they were, and in the middle of all those people. And she just looked like she had been shot. Well the bad kind of shot.
on April 16, 2004 12:42 AM,
Alex said:
Ted,
Maybe I'm just paranoid, because every time the phone rings, I jump out of my skin. I HATE those phone calls.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 12, 2004
Where in THE HELL WERE YOU?
Okay, okay so I suck (Mean people suck, NICE PEOPLE SWALLOW) . Nothing bugs me more than checking my favorite blogs daily and seeing SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. The same thing. Three days in a row. Funny thing about us bloggers, sometimes life gets in the way. I hope I will be forgiven for my discrepancies. I could say that I was unable to get to the computer for various reasons like the fact that an incredible lake grew in between my room and the computer and a huge purple alligator lived in it and every time I TRIED! SO! DAMN! HARD! to get here, he would snap at my toes. And I love my toes. All 12 of them. OR, I could just tell you that I had a good friend get back from the desert, we went out and got hammered (lay down in a flowerbed and take pics hammered) (start fights with men that are 3X your size hammered), and then I had Easter Dinner and homework. You choose...
Read More "Where in THE HELL WERE YOU?"ｻ
And don't say I never did anything for you. I'm like one of those write your own adventure books. Does TCWH have a couple drinks and stay home? Or does she down three bottles of champagne with good friend, leave D.H. to sleep, and go out and make a general ass of herself? I've a good mind to equip all blog readers with cattle prods so that I can call them and say, "Don't let me go out, give me a BUZZ!" I do not need to be out and cavorting about where there are high school students drunkenly milling about alternating between puking and trying to pick up the "juicy girls" and each club might as well be renamed horny boy central. Oh yeah, Italian Starlette saw a guy get stabbed down there. Nothing like a little yakuza and russian whores with your sake. THPT.
THe best part is running into the people that you danced like a whore in front of at the hospital, the gym, the pool, the grocery store, Taco Bell...you get my drift, yes? All I can do is hope that they were as inebriated as I was.
D.H.'s impending departure has me in a mood. I remember what it is like to go to sleep and wake up days and days and days in a row without having my stomach go into butterflies when he walks in the door. I am still such a dork that I get excited and run to the door whenever my husband gets home. This is probably what my blog will look like while he's gone, so be prepared:
The military sucks. Clever, yes?
I will leave you with these thoughts, as I have yet to dig myself out from my Arizona history course. BARTENDER!!!!
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 12, 2004 10:18 AM,
Alicia said:
I just had to laugh at your comment about running into others you do crazy drunk (sorry, inebriated) things with.
I used to go out a lot with my buddy in Seattle a few years ago, did some crazy things. I was standing in line at Target (in Southern California now) the other night, looking at the guy in front of me wondering why he looked SO familiar. I didn't realize who he was until I got home and started flipping through my older pictures to scrap. Doh! I still can't remember his name, but there he was, one of the "guys from 13th" that we partied with (and obviously took oodles of picture of). Dang...of all the places to run into him, lol.
It can happen!
on April 12, 2004 10:24 AM,
rachel said:
I have never had anything like that happen to me because I never do odd strange things like that..
YAH F*CKIN RIGHT... anyway glad to see you're doin okay. Last time i talked to you you mentioned beer so i figgered ya was in a gutter somewhere.. quite possible you were and you're holding out on me.. I wanna be in a gutter.. i had a lousy easter and not even an easter basket.. awwww f*ckit all i'm goin ta bed..
on April 12, 2004 01:54 PM,
Rose said:
*burp* Beer with sake. Rock on.
I want to see the flowerbed picture.
Hey, you've been here for me while mine's gone, I'll be there for you when yours is gone. AND we're going to get to drink together. What could possibly be better than that?
on April 12, 2004 02:17 PM,
amber said:
TCWH, where is D.H. going? my brother is still in baghdad, and we aren't sure when he'll be home though we thought it may be june. keep us posted.
on April 12, 2004 03:05 PM,
nongirlfriend said:
Unfortunately, I must stop drinking for at least a week until the belly/ass disease (aka 48 hour virus) is long gone and my stomach recuperates enough to handle the vodka.
So binge a few times for me, will ya?
on April 12, 2004 08:33 PM,
Surfcat said:
I think that it's very cool that you "get excited and run to the door whenever my husband gets home." We should all be so lucky! Now back to the same old BLOG ...
on April 13, 2004 06:59 AM,
Simon said:
I'm with Surfcat - getting excited when your hubby comes home is what should be happening - it means you're happy and in love.
on April 13, 2004 07:12 AM,
Alex said:
Alicia,
The bad thing about running people into here is that I don't really like them. I don't WANT the commander's wife to remember that I told her husband off. I like to be drunk and anonymous. Alcholic Anonymous, if you will :)
on April 13, 2004 07:13 AM,
Alex said:
Rachel,
Being in a gutter would have been much better as it means I would have been ALONE! As it was, I have hazy snippets of dancing in a club the size of a postage stamp in the middle of a circle of people. Not the rep I want!
on April 13, 2004 07:15 AM,
TCWH said:
Rose,
I hear you I hear you. Could you fly over here and pretend to be me a couple of days? Between the kids and the classes and the husband leaving, I'm starting to feel a little whelmed! I'll let you know when it gets to overwhelmed.
on April 13, 2004 07:17 AM,
TCWH said:
Nongirlfriend,
I laughed out loud when I read about the belly/ass disease. HA! You put it so succinctly. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to binge as much as I did in my college days, so how's about we rotate?
on April 13, 2004 07:21 AM,
TCWH said:
SC and Simon (well you know my name is Simon...),
I agree, although I feel stupid admitting stuff like that...I have been in several relationships before where I thought I was in love, and little by little, the small gestures stopped. And although it was just a little one here and there, after the course of a couple of months, I was left with nothing, and realized that the relationship was in fact over. SO, I keep up the little gestures (unless of course, I'm blogging) cuz they count.
ｫ Hide Comments
Posted by Alex at
09:50 AM
|
Comments (12)
|
TrackBack (1)
ｻ
Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon links with:
Scattershooting
April 09, 2004
I've Got a NEW Attitude
Fair Readers,
As many of you (read: ME) may have noticed, my last three blog titles with the exception of yesterday's and including today have been lyrics. (Gee that chick is whacky!) No, I don't really think that I'm a rock star, and I certainly don't think I am a monkey. Although I have been known to eat shit from time to time. (So! DAMN! PUNNY!). I am sure you all are sitting on the edge of your collective seats wondering what I am trying to signal to you. I'll tell you. Come closer. Closer. Closer. (DAMMIT! I said CLOSER!) Thank you. *wink wink*
Read More "I've Got a NEW Attitude"ｻ
When I was little, I wanted to be Vanna White. Vanna, in all her letter rotating later to become touch screening, one bad outfit after the other, need sunglasses to look at her teeth, Wheel of Fortune glory. We didn't have TV when I was little, but the minute I went to a friend's house, I'd grab the TV guide, pawing through it, noting the next time that WOF aired. Miraculously, I'd show up at the door at 6:00 every evening, like a stray dog. "Can we feed you?" my friend's mom asked, and I'd just shake my head no. "Are you lost?" she'd inquire. Head shake. "MOOM! She's here to watch WOF" "You are?" Nod. Nod. "Ummm. Okay. C'mon in, hon." And I'd glide in as if their living room was my own studio and mimic turn those letters with her. I smiled when she smiled. I gestured when she gestured. I whirled when she whirled. When I knew the answers, I kept my lips pressed in that knowing, demure smile. I. WAS. VANNA. MOTHERFUCKING. WHITE.
Given that I am 28 now, and Vanna doesn't look like she's going to croak anytime soon, I have decided that it is time for desperate measures. I need a new career. Which leads me back to the song lyrics. I have decided that I will do personal interpretations of song lyrics that strike my fancy. Kind of a William Shatner meets Irene Cara, if you will.
When I was 20, my Uncle Jimmy asked me what I was going to be when I grow up. "Famous," said I, confident in my undiscovered abilities. And I'm not just talking about my 15 minutes. I want the whole damn hour. I am certain that my interpretative talents and penchance for unusual dance moves coupled with the love of All that is TOP 40 will be my vehicle. And I, the willing driver.
THHPPPT. Yes. I am kidding. About the lyrics. Vanna White? No. As soon as I found out that Dan Akroyd left Saturday Night Live and that I would never get to replace Jane Curtin and hear "Jane, you ignorant slut," spill from his lips, I was heartbroken. Still am. It's all his fault. Blame him.
TCWH's SANITY SPEAKING: Of course I realize that this post is a direct result of my NOT leaving the house for the last five days. I'm going, I'm going. With the owner of the glasses. If I have to tell you which glasses in which picture I'm referring to, you're in trouble. I'm sure it will be a fun and frolickin' times. I'll post pics tomorrow.
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 9, 2004 03:05 PM,
Surfcat said:
Girl you already are a rockstar! You look like Vanna, but rock like a combo of Stevie Nicks and Pat Benetar! You are classy, funny and beautiful - plus you have the gift of writing beautifully and touching people (in a whiny voice: I didn't mean it like that)! I remember the glasses. Very cool for an ultra-nerd! I have to go back to work now... Now where is my diphenhydramine? I need a drink.
on April 9, 2004 05:12 PM,
Howard said:
You still want those Bubba teeth?
on April 10, 2004 01:00 AM,
Alex said:
SC,
I should stalk you more often. I came home last night and read all your comments after I was ummmm...altered, and what a pleasant surprise they were when the fog cleared this morning. YIPPEE!
on April 10, 2004 01:02 AM,
Alex said:
H,
If you're drinking, I'm buying. Or the other way around!
on April 10, 2004 02:17 AM,
rachel said:
Man... I wanted to be in playboy.. what is wrong with me?
on April 10, 2004 05:03 PM,
Smitty said:
Hopefully you're not the Eggman or the Walrus, either. Coo Coo Cachoo! LOL
on April 12, 2004 09:56 AM,
TCWH said:
R,
Believe me, if I had the boobs or the body, I'd be all over THAT magazine. Money, money, money!
on April 13, 2004 06:56 AM,
Simon said:
So where's the photos?
ｫ Hide Comments
April 08, 2004
The Weight Of It All
I remember being little burying my face in my Nana's neck. She emanated patience and goodness and light. We drove to school together every day. We'd stop at the little gas station on the bottom of Capitol Hill and get two cold cheese burgers and share them for breakfast. I'd shift. She'd coach. "Okay," she'd prompt "We're speeding up. You're going to need to get ready to shift into fourth gear." And I'd wait, giddy at being given such a big responsiblity until I saw her foot lift up, signalling that it was time. "That's right. Nice and smooth. It should relax right into it." And it always did. Because I was seven and she was my world.
Nothing in the world could replace those four years of morning drives for me. Starting at the top of the hill in the early morning light. Winding down the hairpin curves catching glimpses of the sunrise splashed on the horizon between the tangan tangan of the sparse, picky boonies. Colors I had never seen before. Peaches and vibrant pinks, purples, and blues. They matched all the colors in her dress, and I used to love to stand next to her as she taught art, tracing my finger along the patterns of her dress, oblivious to the rest of the people in the room, because as long as I can remember, it has only been me and her.
"See those clouds up there, Alex?" she asked me one day after we woke up early and stole out of the house, just the two of us, to go watch the sun come up. I stood in the morning damp and nodded. "Those are angels. They're watching over you." I looked into her face and then followed her gaze up, mesmerized. Rows upon perforated rows of clouds. I knew that she was showing me God.
Now, I am 28. Morning drives and art classes are miles and lifetimes away. She lives on the reservation now, in her little house that my Aunt Ce left her. Snuggled in her fur coat, I can hear her shift her weight as she talks to me on the phone. She pauses, holding her chest. It hurts when she coughs. I can hear that hurt across the oceans and through the phonelines and it grips at my throat. The promise that I made to her when I was six years old and had my whole life ahead of me resurfaces, and I wonder if it hurts her that I did not make good on it. Instead of living in a house with her and me only, I am living in Japan. With no garden.
"Will you be coming home this summer?" she inquires, and I can hear the careful deliberation in her voice, know that she's checking her own self to keep out the anxiety so that I don't feel guilty. Always thinking of me before she thinks of herself.
I remember last summer. When I had to hug her goodbye. She was small. And sick. And I held her in my arms, and just hung on as hard and as long as I could. I didn't want her to know that I was afraid I wouldn't see her again. That I remembered my promise; that I remembered I was breaking it. I felt heavy. And empty. And afraid.
And I wanted to be five again. Two again. 14 again. So I could have all those years again. With her.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 8, 2004 03:18 PM,
amber said:
TCWH, i am crying thinking of my "Mimi." she is wanting me to move back to her town. thanks for writing that so beautifully.
on April 8, 2004 11:29 PM,
Howard said:
A,
That was great...and made me realize I still miss my Bub something fierce.
on April 9, 2004 05:13 AM,
Brian said:
This is the best serious blog post I have ever had the pleasure of reading. You are quickly turning this site into one of my favorite boredom-killers.
Keep it up.
Also, don't eat the orange sushi...
on April 9, 2004 02:56 PM,
Surfcat said:
Now that was a short, but beautiful journey!
I love people like that. I have been lucky enough in my life to know a few.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 07, 2004
You can't be ME, I'm a Rock Star
Running on the TOP of a Cop Car (No, I'm not trying to be like Michael Jackson in that ridiculous show of WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING? when he came out of the court house and got on top of the car and did a little Billy Jean. Right before he invited his fans over for tea and crumpets. I think it's a cult. I'm trying to be like N.E.R.D. They're on my playlist. When I write papers, I have to have music that I have listened to so much, the words don't distract me. Trust me. Anything distracts me at when writing. Sports. Candles. Outside noises. Yes. I need help. I know.)
Let's add today to stupid TCWH tricks. D.H. has been working nights. I have been operating on little sleep. Let me tell you why. Y'all wanna talk crazy? Have a seat.
Read More "You can't be ME, I'm a Rock Star"ｻ
Understand that I am a skeptic. With a capital SKEPTIC. I don't believe in ghosts, hauntings, blah, blah, blah. Well I'll be damned (hah! bad joke) if after we moved into this building I didn't start seeing "things" out of the corner of my eye. They were hard to describe. If I sat still, the movements would appear to come closer and closer. When I was in the shower, I would have the distinct feeling of being watched. Of course, when I whirled around, there was nothing. Add to this spookiness a recent suicide in the building by one of the wives. Recent like right before I got here. Urban legend? Military Humor? Fuck if I know. (Of course, I know I'm being a little affected here. I have an overactive imagine. This is the person who at 2 years old fabricated a husband, career, and dinners in Paris, y'all. I was born this way) Finally, I freaked out. After one particularly unsettling shower, I called Momma and told her that I thought I was seeing things. She says, AND I FUCKING QUOTE! "The women in our family have always been like that", calm as a the motherfucking Jordan river (was that sacreligious? Sorry.) I about shat myself (Think that's grammatically incorrect? I actually got into it with a sophomore this year because he said shat, and I informed him that it was still profanity, as it is the past tense of shit. He argued with me round and round until finally I told him to look it up. licks finger and makes a 1 in the air. TCWH, 1. Sophomores, 0. That moment is a real source of *pride* in my life. I'm a motherfucking educator, y'all!). So the women in my family are like that. WTF? I want no part of this seeing imagining freaky thingys. REAL OR IMAGINED.
I figured I would be smart, kill two birds with one stone, and buy some sleeping pills. I have been going on auto pilot for about 3 weeks now, and it is killing me. By auto pilot, I mean, sleeping lightly from about 12 until 4:45am, when I wake up, ecstatic to have made it through the night in one piece. Yes Virginia, I am that idiot that lives in the apartment above you that takes a running start from the door and dives onto the bed so the monsters under it don't grab my feet. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, maturity. Just kidding. I've been getting up at that time to exercise. Go deal with the monsters until 2. Come home and do homework in the form of 15 page papers until 6. Eat. Return to computers. Kiss DH goodbye at 9:45 and work until midnight, when I finally crawl, exhausted and mind racing, into bed.
Allow me to convey what a joy I am to be around on little sleep. Cranky and obtuse. Obese? I think that everything you do means you hate me, like putting silverware away in the drawer. Not a pretty sight. Just draw the little chalk marks around me now.
I took *new* and *improved* sleeping pills last night at around 9:00 and was fighting sleep around 9:24. And by fighting, I mean, eyes were closed, but I was fully concious. I was trying to tell D.H., but I could not physically open my mouth and tell him. My mouth would not move. I thought to myself, "What the hell was in...." and never finished the thought, because I passed out.
Fast forward to this morning. My eyes popped open at 5:30, and I shook my head to clear the whispies of my youngest step-son singing some Seussian rhymes about his grades to me (??? Am I the only one who thinks I sound like a crack whore here?). Interesting, considering I haven't talked to the kid since August. It's okay. He doesn't like to talk to me on the phone because it makes his mom cry. She's a manipulative bitch. I should take lessons.
Seated at my portal into the alternate universe, I attempted to finish my final heartbreaking work of staggering idiocy (yes, I stole it. fine me. Thank you, Dave Eggers) for FIVE HOURS. I felt. Tired. Drugged. I chugged water. Shook my head. Opened the windows. Did some shots of tequila. Ate the worm. All in vain. I felt sluggish. I went into the bathroom, turned on the lights, and watched my pupils. Dilated. As. Hell. If I were to sit behind the wheel of a car, I probably would have gotten arrested.
I finally passed out for about 3 hours, and was awakened by D.H, who was sleeping off his night shift. I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My pupils are still freakishly dilated and I still feel stoned out of my gourd. Wait, Why am I complaining again?
Diphenhydramine HCL. It's what's for dinner.
Speaking of which, I am about to crack open one of those pre-mixed margaritas I bought. They were a dollar! For four! The young man in front of me leaned back and said, "Umm, they taste like cough syrup." I winked and said, "Thanks, cutie! NyQuil or Robitussin?"
Rock FUCKING Star. Now all I need are the sex and rock n'roll.
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 7, 2004 02:00 PM,
rachel said:
Women in my family see things too.. but not because we're clairvoyant.. it's because we're crazy.. pill poppin crazy..
We just had a wife commit suicide here too.. scary stuff..
Why am I up at 6am.. I'll tell you why.. Rose's cat talks.. ALOT.. she's a chatterbox...
on April 7, 2004 02:17 PM,
Rose said:
Rach: Hey lady, she's your cat now, no turning back!
Of course she talks too much. She was mine!
And Alex, you ARE a Rock! F*cking! Star!
AND HOW COME YOU CAN SAY F*CKITY F*CK F*CK F*CK AND I CAN'T SAY IT IN YOUR COMMENTS?
on April 8, 2004 01:05 AM,
rachel said:
Yeah I can't say F*CK BUT YOU CAN..
F*CK FU*K *UCK FUC* F*CK FU*K *UCK FUC*
on April 8, 2004 03:57 AM,
Simon said:
And what's the past tense of F*CK anyway?
on April 8, 2004 12:01 PM,
Alex said:
Rach,
We're all pill-poppin crazy. In my family, it's not Prozac. It's Vitamin P.
on April 8, 2004 12:03 PM,
Alex said:
Rose.
Well, as for RFS, I certainly like to think so. A legend in my own mind. Just kidding. :)
on April 8, 2004 12:04 PM,
Alex said:
Simon.
If Shit goes to Shat, F*ck would go to F.A.C.K? It's anybody's guess!
on April 9, 2004 02:50 PM,
Surfcat said:
F - U - C - K me! Now I'n no doctor or anything, but if I were mixing diphenhydramine and tequila and didn't halucinate, I'd be pissed off too. I would insist on getting my money back! I too am a skeptic and I have a very-long story about that one. Another time...
on April 10, 2004 01:07 AM,
Alex said:
SC,
I'm thinking of lodging a formal complaint. I am most disappointed! On the positive side, well, I really can't think of one.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 06, 2004
In the Time of Chimpanzees, I was a Monkey.
I'm ruminating. Marinating. D.H. and I, for matters financial only, have been reduced to eating at what the gaijins refer to as screaming sushi. I wrote about it here, and you can read it just in case you haven't already. Make sure to scroll down. It's the one at the bottom. I've already waxed philosophical about it. More than once. Instead, I bring you:
TCWH's Ode To Toto Ya Michi
Also known as: When Boredom Strikes.
Read More "In the Time of Chimpanzees, I was a Monkey."ｻ
I will not eat raw fish with rice.
I will not eat it. Not once! Not Thrice!
I do not see fit to make nice.
I will not eat raw fish with rice.
I will not eat it perched on a stool.
I will not eat it by the pool.
I will not eat it to seem cool.
No, I will not eat it, GirlScout's Rule. (yes! I know it is promise, not rule! Artistic license, okay?)
I do not like it! I do not!
The fish is warm, the rice is hot!
Do you want food poisoning? I DO NOT!
I like my sashimi fresh and cool.
I like my sashimi (wipes face of drool)!
If fresh sashimi you could get,
I'd eat it all, you could bet!
I would eat it with a spork.
I would eat it with Mork from Ork!
I would eat it, it's not pork.
I would eat it, I'm a sushi dork.
(okay, now read real fast so the meter isn't messed up! FASTER!)
But you do not give me these options,
Instead you fill your rotating conveyor belt with hideous concotions!
Smoked salmon covered with what looks like squeezin's
Spewed forth from the chef's nether regions!
Recommendation, you say.
Recommendation? I scoff!
What's in that special sauce? says I? You: cough cough!
No, I will not eat your sushi, Yamaguchi san.
I will not eat any! Not a wan!
Until your fish is cool and clean and fresh,
My mouth will be sushi - lesh.
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 6, 2004 07:55 AM,
rachel said:
I DONT like sushi but I do love Dr Seuss and I adore when you write poems about sushi and Dr Seuss.. this is a keeper. Not to mention I'm teetotally tired and I have hissing cats in the living room. I bet THEY would love sushi. Not sure about Dr Seuss though.
on April 6, 2004 07:57 AM,
rachel said:
Your comments hate me. About as much as I hate sushi. So you guys take GARY out for sushi when you get to Phoenix. I'll be drinking.. infact I will come with you .. HE can have sushi and I CAN have the alcohol!!! Then he can drive me home... unless of course he's dead from bad sushi.. in which case would you recite that at the funeral?
on April 6, 2004 07:59 AM,
rachel said:
Now, I really know they hate me cuz I swear that first comment was NOT there. It DID NOT SHOW UP.. I HATE COMMENTS!!!!!!!!!!!
I need sleep :(
on April 6, 2004 09:18 AM,
Simon said:
My daughter's in for a rude shock when I read her bedtime story tonight....Dr. Seuss and sushi, what a combo!
on April 6, 2004 01:48 PM,
Ted said:
I refuse to eat anything I've used as fishing bait.
on April 6, 2004 05:16 PM,
Surfcat said:
Funny...some of my favorite foods look, smell or taste like fish baits. I too liked the Dr. Sush poem. I know what let's do, have wasabi to make it taste even better. Put a little windex.
on April 6, 2004 09:36 PM,
Rose said:
1) We are SO going to eat sushi when you get to Phoenix.
2) I don't care if Gary and S. come with us or not, but we will bring Rachel, and she will have a sake bomber.
3) Sashimi rules.
4) Jesus Christ on a Cracker, Rachel, could you be any more neurotic about the comments engine? Is 7:30 in the morning too early for you to have a cocktail> ;-)
on April 6, 2004 10:32 PM,
rachel said:
her comments hate me.. they disappear then come back or just not show up at all.. was it really 730? NO.. really?!.. no it wasnt.. it was 730 HER time.. that was last nite for me...
on April 7, 2004 07:27 AM,
TCWH said:
R,
Well, if we take Gary out for sushi, and he dies, both Rose and I would be dead as well! From the fish - you'd be the only left to say the poem. Maybe you should write it on a little piece of paper and bring it in your pocket, just in case. Or you can just drink sake bombs for us, that would be okay.
on April 7, 2004 07:29 AM,
Alex said:
S -
That's actually where I got the idea. A little girl named Jarrina keeps telling me, "Hey! Watch my tongue twister! I would not eat it with a mouse! I would not eat it in a house!" All! DAY! LONG! Pleasant. But, I like my version much better.
on April 7, 2004 07:32 AM,
Alex said:
T,
It is an interesting habit, I agree. I can't think about it too much - in the same vein, I don't like to eat chicken, beef, or pork. I just think about their little faces and it grosses me out. Before Finding Nemo, fish was the only "animal" I ate. You must use some expensive bait!
on April 7, 2004 07:34 AM,
Alex said:
SC,
I am ALL about the wasabi. That's the difference with the traditional restaurants - they do not put the little pots of wasabi on the table - the chefs put it on, and you get what you get! I might have to start carrying windex in my bag.
on April 7, 2004 07:37 AM,
Alex said:
Rose,
1.) We will so have to take Rachel out to eat prior to the sake bomber. Alcohol. in. stomach. Hell, maybe I'll grab something to.
2.)It will be so! Much! fun! Yippee!
3.) We will definitely have to have a designated driver.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 04, 2004
I Might be a Redneck
Before I embark on this little diatribe of mine, there's something I think you should know, just to disperse any thoughts as to me being racist.
Recipe for TCWH:
1/4 Cup Philipppina
1/8 Cup Tribally enrolled land owning, non casino working Seneca Indian
1/4 Jewish (I don't know what this means. It was how it was taught to me by Momma. It's her father, so if she chooses to identify it as an ethnicity, SO BE IT. Speaking of NOT being racist, the first time I found out about her father's origins I whined "No wonder I keep spending money! I'm a JAP!" I thought the cigarette was going to fall straight out of Momma's lips into my Mimosa. Ain't I a hoot?)
Everything else is varying shades of white, of which Momma says some is Celtic. Or some shit like that. Educated fraternity boys that live in Louisiana referred to me often as a mutt. What a *great* pick up line! Witness:
Stupid Frat Rat: So, what are you?
Young, Impressionable TCWH: What do you mean?
SFR: Why do you look like that?
YITCWH: Like what?
SFR: Tan skin? Blonde Hair?
YITCWH: Dad: Philippino and White. Mom: American Indian and White.
SFR: Oh, so you're like one of those stray dogs...what'sitcalled? Ummm...
YITCWH:...
SFR: A mutt! You're a mutt!
30 minutes later
SFR: Sure you don't want to come home with me? I've got the room all to myself.
YITCWH: Umm..no thanks, despite your tantalizing pick up lines.
I'm just kidding, kind of. I don't think everyone who belongs to a Greek Organization is stupid. I was in one myself once, in a past life. Look at me, trying not to step on any toes. That one quality is enough to infuriate even the most patient of souls, namely...aw, who cares? The guy called me a mutt, he did, he did. My point? My parents raised me with a great appreciation for all cultures, regardless of color or infuriating habits. Which leads me to this...
Read More "I Might be a Redneck"ｻ
Imagine my shock and awe (so clever, aren't I? I'm not getting that degree to wipe my ass with, you know! Althought the bachelor's did crumple up rather nicely.) as I was flipping through the channels last night (yes. I. know. I. need. to. get. out. of. the. house.) I stumbled upon The Blue Collar Comedy Tour on Comedy Central. And got sucked into it. I laughed so hard I felt my belly jiggle along with (insert redneck's name here)'s "That's funny right thar. I don't care who yew are." I hee hawed when Jeff Foxworthy said that if you had a set of plastic matching salad bowls that all said "Cool Whip" on the side, you might be a redneck. I wiped the tears from my eyes when he followed it by saying that if you wore a strapless dress with a bra that isn't...you know the rest. And then I wondered what the hell I was doing.
In case I've forgotten, rednecks are not known for being the most tolerant people in terms of race, sex, politics, weather, EVERYTHING. I used to have an Uncle who was a self-proclaimed redneck. And while I sincerely believe that he has a good heart, I found him a little, well, racially challenged. I lived with him and my Aunt when I was in college. They took me in after a bad relationship ended worsely. For that, I am eternally grateful. I brought a friend home to help me move my stuff to an apartment closer to campus one day, and he drawls, "Hey! You! C'mere!" My friend (male, hispanic) approaches my Uncle. I do the introductions. My Uncle shakes his right hand and grabs his right elbow with his left hand. Faster than you can skin a pig, he licks his thumb and rubs it into my friend's forearm, making small circles. "Okay. You're white. You can stay." For that, I will be eternally embarrassed. My friend looked back at me, horrified. His face said, "WTF, TCWH? Is this guy kidding? Not kidding? He put his spit on my arm! Can I move now?" I just froze, doing my damndest to blend into the terra cotta wall on the sun porch. If I don't move, they can't see me!
Yet I sat there last night and laughed my ass off. The grandaughter of an immigrant who was kicked out of his wife's house because of the color of his skin. To the credit of the four comedians, not one racial joke was uttered, erm, drawled. Fucking Hilarious.
And now I leave you with this thought.
If you spent your Halloween at the local Hooter's glued to a barstool talking to a 3 year old dressed up as a catfish and went home with your Uncle, you might be a redneck.
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 4, 2004 04:36 AM,
rachel said:
Maaaan I
on April 4, 2004 04:38 AM,
rachel said:
Don't know what happened to all my comment. Damn near ATE THE WHOLE THING BUT TWO WORDS!!! WHAT THE HELL... fuckin rednecks!
on April 5, 2004 11:58 AM,
Alex said:
Rachel.
How bizarre - because your comments also show up in my inbox, and I got the whole thing. Not here, though! Something is afoot at the Circle K! I am proclaiming it Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure Revival Week! Month! Year!
on April 5, 2004 05:10 PM,
Surfcat said:
Git-R-Done! That's funnier than a three-legged dog trying to bury a turd on an icy lake.
Now I don't care who you are, that's funny! - Larry the Cable Guy.
Wow that whole thumb licking thing is pretty wild. I would have been stunned too!
on April 5, 2004 05:39 PM,
Howard said:
Actually, watching a 3-legged dog bury anything is kinda funny. :)
A, I have a Larry the Cable Guy CD converted to MP3 if you'd like to listen to it. If the RIAA comes looking for it, just tell them you're 'borrowing' it.
And I'll leave you with "If you shot your father-in-law's fishing boat with a semi-automatic rifle, you might be a redneck".
on April 6, 2004 02:57 AM,
Mark said:
That show qualifies as continuing education in my part of the world.
Redneck
Olympics
on April 6, 2004 03:14 AM,
no milk said:
it does sound kinda offensive...
on April 6, 2004 04:08 AM,
Alex said:
SC,
That's his name? Larry the cable guy? Good God that man was funny. I never thought I would spend so much time looking at a redneck in a ripped off plaid shirt and a trucker's hat...willingly! Of course, I drank 1/2 a bottle of wine before they came on, but I don't care! That shit is still funny.
on April 6, 2004 04:11 AM,
Alex said:
H,
I would LOVE to listen to it, but I have to hold off until my current class is over - how's May 19th sound? I don't allow myself to read, listen, or process anything extracurricularly until I'm done - otherwise I don't do my work. I know. Naughty, naughty. Well except for blogs. And TV.
I loved that post you wrote about your father in law's boat - I laughed and laughed. You might have me beat.
on April 6, 2004 04:14 AM,
Alex said:
Mark,
I had to read your statement twice, because I'm so thick I didn't get it. BUT...when I DID get it, I spit milk out my nose! I wonder if I could get credit for watching it? Twice?
on April 6, 2004 04:16 AM,
Alex said:
NM,
I hope you're talking about my Uncle, and not me! :).
on April 6, 2004 07:46 PM,
Howard said:
A,
Since I'm a geek at heart, I just created a little reminder for myself in Outlook. On May 19th, I will email you the Larry the Cable guy CD...hopefully, I won't fill up your email account.
on April 7, 2004 07:39 AM,
Alex said:
You know H, even if you did, it would be okay, because then I would feel SUPER POPULAR! Like Heathers.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 03, 2004
Bright Ideas
Just a quickie, before I get in the shower (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) because I actually said this to my fucking husband today and almost slapped myself. (TANGENT, TANGENT, Will Robinson. I am doing my utmost to curse as much as I motherfucking can out of respect to my newest hero, The Tenth Muse . It seems she has been accused of being a foul-mouthed, hateful, classless, bigot because she offers dieting tips on a site that she pays for! Well God Forbid that she puts what she fucking wants on there! I mean, she pays for the damn thing! Who the hell does she think she is? Shit! Fuck! Damn! *All said with Glee*) So, yeah, this is what I said:
TCWH: (in sick scratchy voice) Do you want me to get dressed today so I can leave the house?
DH:
NEVERMIND. You don't need to know what he said, because I can't believe that these are actually the words that came out of my mouf (Why yes, I was going for that overused Chris Tucker reference! pats you on the head) Further more, I cannot believe I fucking said that! Spring is Sprung! Spring Break is passing me by, yet here I am, sitting diligently in front of my computer, writing motherfucking PAPERS! *sob* It is enough to make my brain explode, and well, we all know that I'm no housewife and that DH would have to clean that up. That might piss him off. Just a LEETLE bit. I mean, can you imagine him scrubbing it out of our Thai Silk slipcovers? Grounds for divorce, I'm sure!
I'm saying this to you: I know what let's do! <--- I cannot stand it when people say this, because for some reason it reminds me of a Shirley Temple movie, so let's just (insert the fake temple smile here) and get this idea on the road.
Let's make a MASTER'S COUNTDOWN CALENDAR. I will be done May 19th, God and Brain willing. I don't even want to think about how many days and papers will be due in between then and now, so you just mark it down, and then throw some confetti at me when I'm done, okay? If I threaten a nervous breakdown, just remind me you've got the MCC all covered and the days...why, they're just flying by! and that I'll be done before I know it!
Yes. I want you to pay attention to me. Shameless self-promotion. I'm an only child. I never get tired of it.
Read Comments ｻ
on April 3, 2004 03:10 PM,
Susie said:
I feel your pain--I still have three classes to go (providing I manage to finish my current one without imploding) for my MS, and I'm at the point where I keep asking myself "Why? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Why?"...
on April 5, 2004 04:48 PM,
Surfcat said:
I like to cuss too! I know what let's do, let's all cuss so we'll all feel better! Some people are just too uptight. There is a free countdown timer (that I now rely on way too much) at
http://www.contactplus.com/products/freestuff/countdown.htm
Here is my list of crap that I keep on there:
My next three vacations, my retirement date, also how long I have been married, divorced, alive and how long I've worked at this latest job. OK now I'm depressed. But only 3 months till the next vacation!
on April 6, 2004 04:17 AM,
Alex said:
SC,
I know what let's do! Let's teach Alex how to read so that she doesn't read "My next three divorces..."
on April 6, 2004 04:59 PM,
Surfcat said:
Let's be careful out there! Wow a woman that want attention paid to her. Now that's a new one ;-)
on April 7, 2004 07:41 AM,
TCWH said:
::kicks self:: Shee-it I cannot stand it when I do something that is so stereotypically female. DAMNIT! I'm losing my edge.
ｫ Hide Comments
April 02, 2004
Style vs. Substance
Note: EEE-UUU I do not like this color. But I am going to use it to prove a point. The name? Indian Red. I'm Indian, and I am certainly not this color. Ahhh, but I'm a quarter-breed you say. Well, tromp on with me over to the Rez, and if you find one fucking Indian that is this color, I'll give you the shirt off my back, and the jeans off my butt. What color is the white on here, anyway? Pasty-boy white? H told me this morning that somebody peed in his milkshake, but I am sourly convinced that they misfired and got mine, because I am all spice and no sugar today.
Read More "Style vs. Substance"ｻ
I was watching a special on oh, VH1, today, (you know, because I am having issues with MY MTV), and on came a commercial for some CD that they are selling. Yakkety, yakkety, blah, blah, blah. And then I saw Bob Seger, and I thought, "Now, how in the hell did he get famous?" And then I thought about Jerry Garcia, and Janis Joplin, and Bette Midler, and Barbara Streisand, and Bob Dylan and Tom Petty, and (if you don't stop me, I'll keep right on going!)...Well, let's list through several of the famous popstars of today: Britney Spears, Miss Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Nick and Jessica Simpson, *NSync, Pharrell, Outkast, Charlotte Church. What the hell is my point? My point is: THINK ABOUT HOW THEY ALL LOOK. Very attractive. Thin. Cut. Buff. Oh yeah, throw Shakira and Nikka Costa in there, too. If they are coked out or hopped up they are doing it in the stylingest of styles!
I blame it all on the damn Jacksons. Janet AND Michael, and the rest of their brood. When Michael was still relatively "The Wiz" young, people became famous based on their TALENT. Not what they looked like. It was their ability that made them beautiful. Think about Perry Farrell. He can't dance, but that man is a freak! Not to mention that he can sing the hell out of some Jane's Addiction songs. Like heroin chic who can swivel his hips in an undulating fashion? Perry's the man for you! 20,000,000 plastic surgeries for Michael and who knows what else later, here we are. In the 00's. Completely obsessed with looks (and YOU KNOW I am the pot). And yes Janet belongs in there damnit! Think "Rhythm Nation". Got the visual? Okay, now think (banging head against computer) WHAT the HELL is the name of that damn song? But I'll bet you that you know *exactly* which video I'm talking about. Janet. Bustier. Torn Jeans. Updo. Very SEXY. It was all what you looked like or who had the best make-up artist after that. I'm sorry Miss Jackson, I am for real...Looks over talent. Need I say more than Paris Hilton? What the hell is she famous for? She doesn't even make a good porn star because she's so damn busy primping for Pete's sake.
Coming to this realization makes me sad. And we are working overtime to perpetuate this honorable pastime, y'all! Think American Idol - Let me be Randy (Ooh! Ooh! Can I? Can I?)
TCWH as Randy: Yo Dog. Whattup?
American Idle: (smiles nervously)
TCWH as Randy: Yo man, I gotta be honest with you...I wasn't feelin' it tonight.
American Idle: looks around for support
TCWH as Randy: Your singing was en pointe, but you just don't look like an Idol, man, I gotta tell it to you straight.
American Idle: I don't look like an idol?
TCWH as Randy: Check it out, check it out. You can SANG, no doubt, but I'm just not digging the (insert latest fashion trend here).
I shudder to think what the popstars of the upcoming century will be like. I'm thinking Max Headroom with all boobs and teeth. Virtual popstars! You can carry the around with you! They never get tired! They never say no! They never age! And it doesn't matter if they can sing or not because, hey, THEY'RE NOT REAL!!!
Oops. Too much cough medicine. All grumpy. I'm going to go listen to some Stevie Wonder. See y'all later.
ｫ That痴 Enough Already!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 2, 2004 12:06 PM,
Lee said:
I much prefer this new abode to your last one. It looks a lot roomier if that makes any sense at all.
Certainly a lot easier to read on my machine.
on April 2, 2004 02:32 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
Mr Lee: My I ask what browser and resolution you are using? I've been helping Alex move her site over and I'm just curious.
Also, on the sidebar does the right side look much wider than the left? It may just be my browser (Mozilla), when I resize the text it goes away... weird. Just owndering if anyone else sees it too.
on April 2, 2004 02:37 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
Preview is my friend, D'oh!
Jim - Snooze Button Dreams - should really like the blue/green thing you got going on over here. It looks much better after being away from it overnight.
Hahaha... Max Headroom... you're right... no talent all looks... and the music industry wonders what is wrong... when they try to force new star after new star on the public... I listen to 70s & 80s (is that considered "oldies" now)
on April 2, 2004 05:02 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
At the top of this coment box... the center stripe... does it look thinner to you? they are all the same width, but the text in the center one make it appear thinner. I can make it a little thicker and make the others a little thinner to balance it out. Let me know... I just might be a little cock-eyed...
Oh... the monthly archives are finished... working on the individual archives now.
It's raining like a sunavabitch here right now... a real turd floater... so I may have to wait till it stops to continue.
on April 2, 2004 05:41 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
All done! Go through, check out in all the little corners [comment, comment preview, comment error, trackback, individual archives, monthly archives] and tell what you would like to see changed.
Also check this stuff out at 800x600, 1024x768, IE.
I tested everything in Mozilla 6.0 and 1280x1024. plus one time at 800x600 to make sure everything would fit n the page.
Let me know what I need to do and we'll get this wraqpped up for you.
on April 2, 2004 06:43 PM,
rachel said:
I use 1024*768 and I have my IE text set on medium and the site looks great. :)
on April 2, 2004 07:51 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
Ok... I did backup copies of the revised Main Template and Stylesheet in the modules section at the bottom of the template edit page. I also put your links/sidebar in a module. If you want to make a change or add some links, scroll down to the bottom of the template edit screen, select "Links" and edit away. All your changes will show up in your main page, monthly archives and individual archives. That should make it much easier to keep them all updated and synced up.
I think that's about it for this site. I'll be moving on to the next MuNuby till you need some more help.
on April 2, 2004 09:28 PM,
Alex said:
Lee,
Glad that it looks better. I like it better, too!
on April 2, 2004 09:30 PM,
Alex said:
Thank you, Rachel!
on April 3, 2004 09:41 AM,
Lee said:
Madfish Willie: My reolution is 1440x900, and I'm using the latest version of Safari. And yeah, the right sidebar looks MUCH wider than the left one.
Great name by the way!
ｫ Hide Comments
April 01, 2004
1:00:01pm. Thursday Afternoon
Do you know where your FELLOW MUNUVANIAN is at 1:00:01? This is where I was. So it's not Dom Perignon, but what can I say? I'm not making that much money. I can't afford it. Korbel has *bubbles*, so I'm not complaining! Shit, lately I haven't been against drinking sprite mixed with beer. (pulls you aside a little too roughly...BUT I will never admit to that in public, so let's just keep that between us? Shall we? lets you go, smooths your shirt, shoots you a smile. Excuse me. Where are my manners?)
I just don't think y'all understand how BAD the kids were today.
(In Unison) How bad, TCWH?
They are so bad, that I have considered inviting all the couples with no children in for a sit down lunch and spiking their drinks with birth control. Any sort will do. Perhaps I will just invite them over for a birthday party and a drink and let the little monsters run around out of control. I love children as much as the next person, but 27 little people (how PC of you, TCWH! Why thank you! Champagne = liquid southern accent and *manners*) 9 of whom need extra help is too much. 15 is an acceptable number. Excuse me. I will step off my teacher's podium. Not that I belong on that damn thing anyway.
Know why I love D.H.? Because he says stuff like this:
About Marky Mark in Rockstar:
DH: So, what, is he trying to be Dirk Diggler in every movie now?
TCWH: What do you mean?
DH: Listen to his intonation. It is all breathy, like he is trying to sound dumb.
TCWH: Like this (insert me doing the Peanuts adult WAH WAH WAH with dadadadda's)?
DH: Exactly.
TCWH: I see what you mean.
All communications between men and women should be this easy. Or should I say painless? In fact, I believe I will start incorporating it into the classroom in the form of a puppet show.
Good LORD I am boring the piss out of myself! Back to my drinking! Simon, I am sorry if I am not living up to your expectations. Worry. Worry. Give me a week. I'll be right as rain. Or right as champagne!
(PSST. What's the spoon in the top of the bottle for, TCWH?) It keeps the bubbles in. And you don't have to pay for one of those expensive thingamajiggy's that I don't know how to say in Japanese.
Champage. M'mmm M'mm Good. Come over and have a glass! Or bottle!
Read Comments ｻ
on April 1, 2004 02:35 PM,
Ted said:
And once you finish the champagne, you can use the bottle to teach Simon some patience, right upside his skull. :D
on April 1, 2004 05:27 PM,
SuRfCaT said:
This BLOG is looking great!
Content is still fun too!
I am treating my spring fever by golfing for the first time this year! It is supposed to be 74F today. Should be perfect
on April 1, 2004 05:58 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
Ms Alex: Front page is done. I took a few liberties with your previous design. If you see something you don't like or want to change back, just let me know. Take a look at the sidebar and let me know what you want to re-order, delete, whatever. My suggestions: Take out the top two boxes, move the archives down, move your blog links up. Those are just personal prefereneces for me; I'll do whatever you want to do - it's your gig.
I'll start working on the comments & trackbacks later today. Then I'll work over the archives to give them some color. Question: Do you want your sidebar on your archive pages? I thinks it's a good idea, especially on your individual archive. When someone links over from a trackback, they will get a better "feel" for your site and may click through to your home page.
on April 1, 2004 06:57 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
Ms Alex: I added an image for Pixy as host and I added youto my Coner of The Bar Babes "gang". I'll add you to that group over at my site tonight... so you get two links from Madfish Willie's. WooHoo!
on April 1, 2004 07:03 PM,
Madfish Willie said:
FYI: I set your main page up to always display the 25 lastest posts. This setting will prevent you from ever having a blank page. The Recent Entries will list the 10 posts that just went off the page - I don't like to list entries that are on the page as all you need to do is scroll down and read.
on April 1, 2004 11:13 PM,
Alex said:
T,
I'd have to make quite a trip to get that close to Simon, but would love any excuse to visit Hong Kong, violent or not!
on April 1, 2004 11:14 PM,
Alex said:
SC,
I'm glad you like the revamped look! I am also glad you still think the content is fun. After working with the kids all day, I think I have all the "FUN" sucked right out of me!
on April 2, 2004 01:35 AM,
Madfish Willie said:
Comments templates are all done. The defualt templates wre screwed up (not your fault) and it took me three hours to figure it out and get it straightened out. The trackback template has a little funkydo thingy it that I need to isolate, but I'll do that the last thing.
I'll do the archives tomorrow evening.
See ya tomorrow!
on April 2, 2004 01:44 AM,
Simon said:
I'll take champagne from Alex however I can get it. I'm not fussed.
Alex, you're doing great; compared to my drivel this is Nobel Prize stuff. And Madfish has worked wonders with it - it looks just the same but a bit different.
ｫ Hide Comments
