April 2009 Archives
Dear Spring,
Dear Spring,
Where the hell are you?! Maybe you’ve graced other parts of the country with your presence, but not Illinois. It’s the end of April and I still have my electric blanket on my bed. How messed up is that? You teased all of us in March with a few nice days and even the beginning of the month was nice. I moved all my plants out to my balcony. Well, guess what? THEY’RE ALL FUCKING DEAD NOW!
I know what you’re up to, Spring. You did this to us last year, too. You got lazy, probably started drinking again and you forgot to do your job. One day it was winter and the next it was 90 degrees. Yeah, that’s right, we went straight into summer. I swear on all the is holy & pure that you better get your godamn act together and not pull this shit twice in a row. I want sunny, mid-70’s weather pronto. I am still WAY to pale to rock out shorts yet.
Don’t Make Me Hurt You,
Brooke Amanda
And This Little Piggy Had The Flu…
I had a very busy weekend involving an out of town guest staying with me, a surprise 50th birthday party, work and ,of course, Bea Arthur’s death. How I completely missed all the news about the “swine flu” is beyond me. When I got to work today, my friend/manager was FREAKING OUT about it. What the hell is it? She could only offer me a few sketchy details which didn’t leave me much to go on. In fact, I now have more questions than answers.
Is this shit like “mad cow disease?” Do you get it from eating pork? If so, I’m safe because I haven’t eaten pork or red meat since I was 14 years old. Suck it carnivores! I don’t understand how it started in Mexico. Do they even have swine livng there? For some reason, I always pictured Mexico full of mules. And by mules, I mean drug mules 
Anyway, we haven’t had any reported cases here in Illinois so I feel safe…for now. I bet all those college kids who went to Cancun for Spring Break are shitting themselves at this very moment.
Hopefully, this all blows over soon and in the meantime, I’m going to Google “swine flu” so I’m up on all the symptoms and I can drive myself crazy every time I sneeze wondering if it’s just my allergies or if I’m going to die. Great, what a lovely way to kick off my week. Oh Jesus, I just had a thought…what if this is what killed Bea Arthur?!
Revenge Of The Nerds
During my early twenties, I attended my fair share of 21st birthday celebrations. The following account is the WORST party I went to…ever.
A guy I barely knew, I think his name was Dane, was turning 21. He was a friend of a friend so somehow I got invited to the birthday festivities. Even though Dane and his circle of friends were a bit nerdy (they were all computer majors…probably rich now) I thought, “What the hell? This could be fun.”
His friends had rented out a condo (where the hell they got the money to do this, I have no idea) and got two kegs. This is the scene I walked into: an underwhelming 10 people singing “The Barbie Song” (remember that gem) on a micro phone that was hooked up to a laptop, not a karaoke machine. Vic, the host of this nightmare, was running around putting towels on the carpet so nothing would spill on them, and another guy was walking around with a mini tape recorder. Yes, a MINI TAPE RECORDER. Were they going to LISTEN to highlights of the party after it was over?
Then the bathroom door opened and I got to witness the birthday boy vomiting all over himself. NICE. He then passed out in the bedroom and I didn’t see him again for the rest of the night. At least they didn’t make me pay for a cup. The fun kept right on rolling when I was introduced to the guy who had rented the condo out for Dane and company.
He went by the name “Spock.” No, I’m not making that up. Spock went to a community college for three years and a state school for 5 years. He wasn’t even graduating until the following December. Hmm, let’s see, he was 25 years old, he’d been in college for eight straight years and he wasn’t pre-med. Oh, and he still lived in the dorms. Ding, ding, ding…we have a winner!
I had two beers and got the hell out of there ASAP. The whole thing was like a scene right out of “Revenge of The Nerds.” Not that I was super cool in college, but…a mini tape recorder?! Seriously?
A Tribute To Bea Arthur
I was shocked and saddened by the passing of Bea Arthur, aka Dorothy, on “The Golden Girls.” Okay, not really shocked since she was 86 years old, but still sad nonetheless. I LOVED her show when I was growing up and Dorothy is the role that I identify with her. I know she was also “Maude,” but that was before my time so I’m choosing to ignore it alltogether.
My friend, Maria, and I would watch “Golden Girls” reruns all the time when we were in college and she was the one to break the news to me via text last night. It was a rough night, but I got through it. I’ll be buying all the DVDs of the show this week and holding a candlelight vigil in her honor. First, Estelle Getty bites it, now Bea. Two down, two to go. Jesus, Rose and Blanche must be shitting themselves right about now. Who will be next? It’s like a sick & twisted real life version of the movie “Final Destination.”
Bea/Dorothy, you will be missed. You were a very funny bitch and I LOVED when you would participate in the Comedy Central Roasts. There’s nothing I like better than a dirty old lady and I aspire to be just as sarcastic and biting in my eighties as you were. And you were right about Rose…she was a fucking moron.
“Thank you for being a friend. Travel down the road and back again. Your heart is true, you’re a friend and confidant…”
The Exterminators
I think the head honcho at the A&E Network decided that on Wednesday nights, they will only have realty shows featuring people with crazy-ass hair. Exhibit A: My beloved “Dog The Bounty Hunter” which I have previously written about. Exhibit B: “The Exterminators,” a new show which comes on after “The Dog.” This show follows the adventures of an eccentric Southern family in Louisiana who own their own eterminator business called “Vex Con.”
This family is a step above white trash and I love them. The mom and dad run the show, but the real star is the son, Billy. He REALLY loves his job and gleefully hunts down whatever bugs, rodents, snakes, etc, that are bothering his clients. He is careful to never kill any creatures; he traps them and sets them free at a safe location. His hair looks like one of those punk rocker wigs that you can buy at Halloween. I don’t even know how to describe it, so here’s a pic so you can feast your eyes upon it for yourselves:
Amazing, isn’t it? In addition to riddng their clients of various pests, they also have a lot of family drama going on. His brother’s wife just left him and the parents HATE her. Billy is having problems of his own with his better half (who looks a tad on the hard side). And his mom reminds me of a derranged former beauty queen. Oh, and the dad almost had a heart attack a couple weeks ago and had to be rushed to the ER. Drama, yeah, they’ve got it!
I also give props to the family for their gothic style. They have crosses, skulls and all kinds of voodish looking shit all over their huge office. Hey, if you’re going to hunt down disgusting vermin for a living, you may as well look great doing it! Seriously, watch this show just one time and you will be hooked. You will also be amazed at how completely gross some of their clients are. Of course you’re going to have cockroaches when you live in filth! One woman had been having a bug problem FOR YEARS and did nothing about it. How do people live like that?! In another show, Billy pulled not one, but two huge snakes out of a couple’s home. I was impressed Billy could ANYTHING under all the trash and crap that was in the house. Here’s a tip- clean up your shit once in awhile and you won’t have these problems.
Who Cut The Cheese?
I threw a party two weeks ago and the theme was “Wine & Cheese.” Of course, I thought the 20 lbs. of various types of cheese I bought surely would not be enough, so the day of the party, I went out and bought even more. Needless to say, I had a shit ton of cheese left over. To which I thought, “Wow, I can’t let all this cheese go to waste. After all, there are starving children in Malowi who would kill each other for a little Ghouda. I must eat it all!”
And eat I did. I’ve been eating cheese and crackers for lunch and dinner for the last 14 days and now I’m backed up like a bad septic tank. What the hell was I thinking?! Me, the person who had to go the the ER five years ago because I had undiagnosed IBS so badly I was doubled over in pain. Oh, for those who don’t know, IBS stands for Irritable Bowel Syndrome. SEXY! Yes, in my early twenties I thought it was normal to have massive diaherra every other day and pop Amodium like they were candy. All Bran, Fiber One Bars, and Metamucil have become my best friends.
Now I’m so bloated, I look like I’m in my first trimester. I’m never eating cheese again! Okay, who am I kidding…that shit is like crack to me and I’ll be scoring a block of pepper jack within a week. This is my cry for help; my rock bottom, if you will. I need a cheese intervention ASAP.
I Heart Earth Day…And I’m Not Even A Dirty Hippie
I wasn’t born yet, but I’m pretty sure when Earth Day was originally founded back in the 70’s, it was probably a bunch of patchouli smelling hippies holding hands around a newly planted sapling. We’ve come a long way, baby. Now, Earth Day is more likely to be celebrated by WASPY yuppies in their oh-so-environmentally friendly Prius…assholes. Actually, I’m just jealous, because if I could afford a Prius, my wannabe ass would be looking down my nose at all you gas-guzzling bitches. I like feeling superior to people. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling deep inside.
So…I can’t afford an expensive electric car, so what else can I do to celebrate Earth Day? Oh my, I think I just had an epiphany! Shouldn’t we be celebrating Earth Day (wait for it)…EVERYDAY?! Sweet Jesus, I know we need to be doing something to clean up this roach motel we call Earth. We’ve populated it to maximum capacity, we’ve polluted it worse than a frat house after a kegger, and ONE DAY a year is supposed to make up for it. I DON’T THINK SO. Mother Nature is like an abused housewife who gets the shit beat out of her for overcooking the pot roast, so I, for one, am going to be taking some steps to clean up this hell hole. Okay, baby steps.
For starters, I have started using all those Clorox “Green Works” products and they actually do a really good job. I also bought a bunch of bags to use when I go to the grocery store. Granted, I forget them in my car trunk EVERY FUCKING TIME, but still, the thought is there. I’m fairly certain that my toliet is low-flow because if I take a big pooh, I usually have to flush a couple of times to get it all down. Hmm…not sure if that is hurting or helping the cause.
The big thing I would like to start doing is recycling. In fact, I’m going to look into it RIGHT NOW. And one day, when I become illegitimately knocked up, I will use cloth diapers! And breast feed so I don’t have to buy bottles! And have an orgasmic water birth! Okay, I don’t think that really helps the environment, but I think it looks really cool.
Nice Ass
Why Can't THIS Be My Ass?!
As I was getting ready to leave for work, I turned around to check myself out in the mirror and that’s when I came to a harsh realization about my body. I have NO ass. None. I’m so freaking white! I long to have a nice badonkadonk ass like the sistas, but alas, I have no chocolate chip in me at all. It’s so pathetic.
My pants just hang off my butt like I’ve taken a dump in my jeans. How hot is that? Even when I used to work out all the time and do step aerobics it didn’t make any damn difference. It was still flat as a pancake. I’m amazed I’m even able to sit on the toliet without sliding right off.
I guess I shouldn’t bitch because I do have big boobs and maybe if you’re blessed with one, you don’t get the other. I’m thinking I may need to buy a pair of those panties that have butt pads sewn in to balance myself out…
Furry McSquirrely
I HATE squirrels! They are truly God’s plague on our planet. They are just furrier, chubbier versions of rats as far as I’m concerned. I have this morbid fear that one is either going to freak out and attack me (such as lunging at my face) or fall on my head (such as losing their balance while climbing a tree.)
My “squirrel phobia” began my sophmore year in college. That was the time I attended a small, private school and the quad was overflowing with squirrels. They became to used to having humans around them all the time, they would run right up to us and even try to go up our legs. It scarred the shit out of me.
I had not encountered a squirrel without the fear of humans again until last year. I moved into a new apartment that has a courtyard and my downstairs neighbor (not the crazy bitch I wrote about in a previous post…a different crazy neighbor) feels the need to feed the squirrels. She leaves a bowl of peanuts out for them and I think she may even play with them. So now, we have all these morbidly obese squirrels (I mean, these fuckers are HUGE) all over the place and they don’t run away when I get near them. I WANT THEM TO RUN AWAY! I want them to be so scarred of me, they have little squirrelly diarrhea.
I had a freaking face-off with one of the little monsters yesterday. This bastard stared me down when I came out of the building like I was on HIS turf. I thought I was going to have to mace him. Screw being scarred of rapists or burglers, I have to throw down with Furry McSquirrely. I’m paying a shit ton of money to live here and I don’t like feeling intimadated by the wildlife. How do I get rid of these freakshows? Hmm, maybe a few drops of rat poison on their peanuts would do the trick…
Kinky Bitches
I think women brag to each other about their sex lives far more than men do (or maybe I just know too many kinky bitches.) I have a friend that got it on with a guy on the top of her apartment building, another did it on top of a car that was parked in a residential neighborhood at night, another fooled around with a guy in the stockroom of her store. I fully believe all these encounters took place. What I DON’T buy is when someone tells me they did it a million times in an hour. Okay, a million times is a bit of an exaggeration, but a girl who works for me (who is fond of the chocolate daddies) claims they fucked like bunnies SEVEN times in the back of her car…in an hour. REALLY? I don’t think so.
Why even make up something that lame? First of all, I hardly believe that this guy, even though he is 20 years old and in his prime, was able to get it up that much in such a short time span. No way. And was this “jack rabbit” sex? Did he just drill it in her and bust a nut? Not likely. And what kind of pleasure did she get out of this because she sure as shit didn’t cum that many times. I’ll believe you did it three times, MAYBE four, but no way in hell did he give it to you seven times in an hour. Thanks for playing, try again.
Oh, and if you’re asking yourself, “Brooke, why are your very young employees discussing their sex lives with you,” well, that’s just how I roll. Makes the day so much more interesting. Deal with it.
