2009 Archives
Tampon Shooters, Anyone?
I read something in the news a couple of months ago that I found so yucky and gross, that I had to go to my happy place and file it away until now. So it seems that kids today are finding new and completely revolting ways to get drunk. The first method I heard involves soaking a tampon in vodka (or any liquor for that matter) then shoving it up your coochie (if you’re a girl) or your bung-hole (if you’re a boy). WHY WOULD ANYONE DO THIS?! Okay, I get not wanting your breath to wreak like alcohol, thus improving the chances that your parents aren’t going to bust you, but other than that, I don’t really see the up-side of this.
At first, I thought this had to be just another ridiculous urban legend, so I went to my trusty website “snopes.com” to see if they could dispel this myth AND THEY CAN’T! WHAT? They find out that EVERYTHING is an urban legend, but this sick shit is real?! Oh the humanity! They’re even doing this at frat parties because it gets you drunk faster. I’m having visuals of all the frat brothers bending over and grabbing their ankles, while Jagar bomb tampons get inserted. Has this replaced the keg stand? Is NOTHING sacred anymore?
The second “new wave” drunken technique I’ve heard about is snorting vodka. I even remember the paparazzi getting pics of Prince Harry (the hot/wild one) doing this a year or so ago. Wouldn’t this burn like hell? And wouldn’t you feel like you are drowning? The only thing I’ve ever put up my nose is Zicam when I’ve been sick and they even pulled that crap off the market because people were losing their sense of smell from doing it. That may explain why I can work in a store with a million different scents going on and not have it bother me. Anyway…
It saddens me that kids are taking drinking to this kind of extreme. What happened to the days of finding that weird older kid who was still hanging around all the high schoolers to go and get you beer? What happened to beer bongs and drinking games like Asshole, Bullshit, and Pyramid? What happened to waking up covered in puke and not knowing if it was your own or your friends? Hey kids, your breath SHOULD wreak like alcohol (then later in the night, vomit)! You SHOULD NOT be putting alcohol anywhere other then where God intended and that’s in your mouth. So drink it up, puke it up, then remember what that hangover feels like the next day and NEVER drink that much again.
THIS HAS BEEN A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FROM BROOKEAMANDA.COM. Parents of teenagers, you’re welcome.
A Festivus For The Rest Of Us
Since my religious views lean more towards agnostic and working in retail every holiday for the past ten years has pretty much killed Christmas for me, what’s a girl to do to keep some holiday spirit alive? How can I partake in some sort of a celebration and still remain true to my beliefs? The answer is so simple, I’m almost embarrassed I hadn’t thought of it before…Festivus!
For those “Seinfeld” fans out there, you may remember that George Costanza’s dad first brought the term “Festivus” to this country in the 1990‘s. But upon researching this holiday further (and by “researching,” I mean Googling) I stumbled upon a website dedicated to Festivus and apparently it’s been around since Roman times and now has a very dedicated following.
There are just few simple rules to follow to remain true to the Festivus celebration. First, you need an aluminum pole. It can be any height and it can be placed anywhere in the home as long as it’s not decorated at all. Absolutely NO TINSEL! This is to give a big “F.U.” to all those highly decorated Christmas trees adorning people’s homes. Yeah, commercialism has no place at Festivus! How easy is that?
The second part of Festivus is also my favorite. It’s known as “The Airing of The Grievances.” This is where you tell your loved ones what complete screw-ups they are and all the many, many ways they’ve disappointed you throughout the year. Let’s think about this for a hot minute. What family get-together doesn’t end with Uncle Buck drunk and Cousin Timmy in tears? Every family has a huge-ass elephant in the living room anyway…Festivus just gives everyone a chance to let it all hang out and I personally think that is very healthy. This could save your family a fortune in therapy! Your welcome.
Lastly, Festivus ends with “Feats of Strength.” Traditionally, this means wrestling the head of the household to the ground. If you feel you are too much of a pussy for this, then you can change this to arm wrestling or even thumb wrestling. Really, this is just a way to see who is worthy and who is a big, fat loser. Again, every family has the designated loser and everyone knows who it is, this is just a way to make it glaringly obvious.
Festivus has previously been celebrated on December 23rd, but you can really make it whatever date you want, which is another reason I think I’ll enjoy it. With my hectic schedule, I’m choosing to celebrate Festivus in January so I can really start the new off on the right foot. If any friends or family want to come to my celebration (and who wouldn’t) just let me know. Invitations will be sent out soon… regrets only please!
Furry McSquirrely Strikes Again!
I wrote a post in the Spring about my hatred of squirrels and, of one in particular, that was taunting me in my apartment complex courtyard. Well, it seems Furry McSquirrely somehow got online and read that post (yes, I’m convinced Mr. McSquirrely can read) because he phoned one of his cousins (yes, he has a phone, too) to come and harass my parents who live 90 miles away. Squirrels are like the mafia…if you piss one of them off, they leave you alone, but execute your entire family.
It all started a few days ago, when my parents could hear something scratching at their basement door. They narrowed the culprit down to one of three possibilities. Number one, could be a rat, but since they don’t live in Brooklyn, NY, that idea was quickly tossed out. Number two, could be a homeless person, but since their town of 2,500 doesn’t have an enormous pan handler population, that idea was shot down as well. That could only lead to conclusion number three…the dreaded squirrel.
The scratching continued until my mom came back from lunch downtown, opened the backdoor, and saw a loaf of bread laying on the kitchen floor that had clearly been devoured by this disgusting varmint. Terrified, she gingerly backed out the door and called in reinforcements.
The men who came head-to-head with McSquirrely included my 73 year old father, their insurance agent (only in a small town would an insurance agent volunteer to try and catch this thing), and the town handyman. I would like to add that I find it amazing that my parents first reaction was to try and catch this rabies invested spawn themselves and NOT call in a professional. Anyway…
The men tried with all their might to catch this furry foe, but it evaded them at every turn, all the while running through the house, knocking over Christmas decorations left and right and chewing up the woodwork. My parents have a very large, old house with endless places for this creature to hide. Try as they may, the men came away defeated, their spirits crushed and their egos deflated.
With the prospect of having to spend the night in a house with a furry ninja lurking about, my mother fled to the safety of my older brother’s house and took up residence on his couch for the night. My father, frightened as he may have been on the inside, put on a brave face and stood guard in the house.
A frantic phone call was placed to the “Pest Doctor,” who arrived the next morning to try and poison the enemy. It was a huge fail. Furry McSquirrely was NOT going down without a fight. McSquirrely once again wreaked havoc on the household all day and all night. No one could find him. He could not, would not, be stopped.
After two long days of pure hell, the “Pest Doctor” was once again brought back in. It was clear what he had to do. As he walked down the steps to the basement, he turned and said to my mom, “Two are going down, but only one is coming back.” After giving the good doctor chase in the basement, McSquirrely realized if he wanted to live, he would have to run for his life, as the doctor would NOT let him terrorize my parents any more. The door to the basement was opened (let’s not ask ourselves why in the hell this wasn’t done in the first place) and McSquirrely ran to freedom. Just before he got to the end of the yard, he looked back and gave a salute to the doctor, as if to say, “You’ve been a worthy opponent.” My parents slept safe and sound for the first time in three days. All was right with the world again.
“It’s the unconquerable soul of man, not the nature of the weapon he uses, that insures victory.” General George S. Patton
Time To Spank Your Son, Oprah
I would like to state for the record that I have NEVER liked Tiger Woods. I never bought into all the, “he’s America’s son,” bullshit that Oprah was spewing fourth when he first become well-known. I think golf is a crappy, waste of time “sport” and the only good thing about it is getting drunk as shit while you’re trying to play. I could smell douche bag on Tiger a mile away. There was just something a little off about him and those goddamn over-size chicklett teeth freak me the fuck out. They are ALL I see when I look at him.
That being said, I’m not writing this post to bash on him for cheating. While I certainly don’t agree with committing adultery, I also don’t think he’s any different than 99.9% of all male professional athletics in this world. He’s a very famous man with tons of money and he’s surrounded by people who’s only jobs are to make his life easy as hell and be at his beck and call. He believes he’s entitled to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. And it doesn’t matter that his wife is gorgeous because he was going to cheat on whoever his wife was, regardless of her looks. The hard truth is, most people (famous or not), eventually get tired of bumping uglies with the same person over and over.
What I’m going to bash him for is being SOOOO terrible at cheating. The list of his women is now up to nine and most of them are cocktail waitresses (way to aim high, Tiger) with a porn star thrown in just for good measure. Do I think all these women are telling the truth? No. Do I think at least half of them are? Yes. He really couldn’t find a way to be more discreet? He really thought that NO ONE, including his wife, was EVER going to find out?! Couldn’t one of his fellow pro-golfers take him aside and show him how it’s done? I’m thinking maybe they wanted him to get caught. Maybe they were sick and tired of his very fake, squeaky clean image and they wanted to bring him down a few notches. Possibly get him to drop out of tournaments from the embarrassment of it all, so someone else would have a shot at winning. What if one of them even tipped off his wife? I’m not big on conspiracy theories, but this one is starting to make a lot of sense. Only time will tell how this all gets played out.
And just so no one feels too sorry for his wife, let’s remember, she will walk away from this marriage with MILLIONS and MILLIONS of dollars. I think the only real victims in all of this are Tiger’s two children and his now irreparable reputation. Hey Oprah, time to give your “son” a good spanking and send him to bed…alone.
The Christmas Party
Oh, the joys and hangovers of a good Christmas party! Whether you have several parties to attend this holiday season or just one, there is always a common thread weaving these festivities together…someone is going to get WAAY too drunk and make an ass of themselves. Or, in the case of my friends, we all get way too drunk together and each of us takes a turn making an ass of ourselves.
Here’s some highlights from a Christmas party I attended Saturday night. I would like to preface this by saying we are all hard working, non-white trashy people in our early thirties, who for some reason, get really stupid when all together.
The first thing I learned last night, is that it is possible to break a beer bottle over one’s head and not have it hurt. There is a certain technique to performing this trick and all I’ll say is that my hand (yes hand) hurts today from trying to do it.
The second thing I learned is that too much wine = my friend, who will remain nameless, mooning an entire kitchen full of people.
Third, one of my friends did a pity make out with a retarded boy when we were in high school…okay not really, but she went along with this joke and we had several people convinced it happened.
Fourth, the same friend that performed the full moon also likes to put tiny ornaments down her shirt so it appeared she had very pointy nipples.
Fifth, once the liquor is flowing, family secrets come rushing out! My friend’s boss told us his cousin murdered his mother and father with a hammer and screwdriver ten years ago. Merry Christmas!
Sixth, too much Jack Daniels= my friends fiancé spending the remainder of the night in the bathroom.
Seventh, I got to hear a great dating horror story from a fellow single lady which involved the guy she was set up with shitting his pants on their first date.
Eighth, I was asked by a guy, the same one with the murdering cousin, if I would like to donate my eggs to him so he can have a child. I told him if he makes me a worthy enough offer, I might consider.
Ninth, it is possible to pooh while throwing up in your hands at the same time. I mean, not that I know…someone else at the party did that…anyway…
Ten, if you can’t be stupid around your friends, who can you make an ass of yourself around? I’m already looking forward to the New Years Eve party!
It’s Always Sunny On Christmas…
It\'s Always Sunny In Philadelphia
There are a few movies/TV Sshows that I watch without fail every holiday season…“Christmas Vacation,” “Bad Santa,” “It’s A Wonderful Life,” and “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer,” just to name a few. This year, I am excited to have a new Christmas classic to add to the mix… “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia: A Very Sunny Christmas.”
Even though this show has been airing on the FX Network for the last five years, I was just turned on to it last year by some friends of mine. Now, I’m hooked. For those that have never seen the show, it revolves around a group of slightly degenerate friends who own a bar in Philadelphia. It’s a little like Seinfeld in that there’s no real story line that carries through the theme of the show, it’s just about the crazy things this group of friends gets into every week.
This November, they released a DVD Christmas special that is really hilarious. I don’t even know how to described it, other than this tidbit…if you’ve ever wanted to see Danny Devito naked (and let’s face it, who hasn’t?), then this is your chance. There is also a claymation penis at one point (don’t ask, just go with it), and, in my favorite scene, one of the characters (Charlie) FREAKS OUT on a mall Santa and total chaos ensues. There are no real morals learned and everyone ends up exactly where they started. The characters never learn from their mistakes or become any wiser and I love them for that.
This will definitely be a show I’ll watch with my kids someday…but only after they turn 18.
Things I Find Annoying (AKA…Me Bitching Like Andy Rooney Again)
1. Most people.
2. People that “play” the victim. If something is wrong with your life…fix it. Don’t bitch endlessly about it because no one cares.
3. People that dwell on their perceived “bad” childhoods. Again, get the hell over it. There is really nothing more unattractive than an adult complaining about things that happened to them when they were a kid.
4. Stupid women. If you pick the same type of guy over and over, you will get the same results over and over. There is nothing wrong with NOT dating and staying single until the right person comes along.
5. People that complain they have no money, yet waste what money they have on frivolous things they can easily live without.
6. Young people with no work ethic…and they wonder why they can’t hold a job.
7. People that think working for a company for two years is a REALLY long time. Are you f**king kidding me?!
8. People that have arguments with their husbands/wives/friends via their Facebook status. It’s just weird and creepy and uncomfortable for those reading it. Don’t do it!
9. People that get on a soapbox about something and rant and rave as if they are perfect and everyone else is wrong…oh wait, isn’t that what I’m doing right now? Shit!
10. People that have a blog and only write new posts once a month…oh crap, I’m screwed again!
If you read any of the above items and see yourself exhibiting these behaviors, now would be a good time to stop and think, “How can I become a less annoying human in 2010?” It’s never too late to become less of an asshole. Merry Christmas!
Keep It Moving!
Here’s a scenario…you’re in line at the store waiting to pay and the person ahead of you is finishing up with their transaction. Everything going along swimmingly until it’s time for them to pay. For some godforsaken reason, even though the place is packed and there is a HUGE line, this moron decides that this is the perfect time to teach their child how to pay.
OH MY GOD! This is NOT the time to teach your 5 year old how to swipe your debit card and punch in the numbers. JUST DO IT YOURSELF! I’m all for teaching children how to be self-reliant, and if the store is totally empty and there is NO ONE else behind you in line, then knock yourself out. Heck, teach them how to write out a damn check if you want. But the second someone else comes up behind you, then take over for your kid.
I’ve been on both sides of this situation as I’ve been behind these people in line and I’ve also been a cashier waiting on them to finish up as the other customers start to give them dirty looks (to which they’re ignorantly oblivious). My parents never did this kind of crap with me and guess what? I still learned how to pay for things on my own! It’s not brain surgery and your kid will figure it out just fine.
Here’s in idea…how about teaching your child to be thoughtful of others and to move quickly and efficiently through a check-out line so it doesn’t turn into one big cluster fuck? Now THAT is a useful life lesson.
Planning For The Planner
Here’s where I’m going to go off on a mundane, yet relevant (to me), subject manner a la’ Andy Rooney on “60 Minutes.” The year 2009 is drawing to a close and this means that I will have to purchase a new planner. I don’t want anything technical or fancy. I like my planners old-school, Franklin Covey style. Here’s my problem…I can NEVER find a planner that I like.
I have a very nice, afore mentioned, Franklin Covey leather planner. All I have to do is buy the inserts for it. Sounds easy, right? WRONG! First of all, the inserts cost around $30 for nothing more than a bunch of paper bound together with wire. And I ONLY use the month by month section. I don’t need all the other crap which consists of weekly planners (completely useless to me), SIX pages of international holidays (like I give a flying crap when Denmark celebrates Easter…April 10), three pages of “Inspirational Quotes,” a page on weights and measurements (REALLY?), a world map of time zones (everyone I know lives in a two-state distance of me), four pages of blank notes (what the hell am I taking notes on…am I in school?), and a bunch of “names and addresses” pages. Jesus Christ! I DO NOT need all this, but do you think I can find a planner that doesn’t include all this shit? Nope. Am I alone in thinking planners could be WAY more streamlined and therefore, less expensive?
At least I won’t make the same mistake I did a couple of years ago and buy the “Woman’s Point of View” planner, which gave me tips on how to be a more powerful woman on a monthly basis complete with quotes by famous women (yes, Oprah was in there.) It was the only planner left on the shelf or I wouldn’t have spent an entire year using it. I think it even included a place to record my cycle. Yes, that was a LONG year.
PMS Rant…
Since I have RAGING PMS this week, I decided there could not be a more fitting post than to just bitch about anything and everything I find annoying. Okay…here it goes:
I hate when I’m checking out at the grocery store and the cashier stops to look at what I’m buying, then proceeds to ask me about it. Case in point, yesterday the not so friendly Cub Foods guy scanned my milk, stopped and looked at it for a good minute, then proceeded to ask me if it was milk. What the hell?! Gee, what gave it away…the fact that it says “Skim Milk” on the front of the carton or the picture of the cow? Moron.
A month ago, an overly friendly cashier looked at the bag of Kale I was buying and asked me what Kale tastes like because she’s always wondered. I hope that quandary doesn’t keep her up at night because I was no help in answering her question. I explained that it was for my birds and then she looked at me like I was crazy. Whatever, she’s the one who brought it up!
I also hate it when customers at the store I work at ask me how much things cost when the goddamn prices are ON THE PRODUCTS. See lady, I can pick up this bottle, turn it over and look at the price the same as you! It’s like magic. I also hate it when customers cannot add simple prices in their head. I just had a lady ask me how much her two products were and I said that they were $10.50 a piece. She just looked at me blankly and asked how much that would be all together. Wow, I’m no mathematician, but I do believe that $10.50 + $10.50 = $21.00! Go back to your crack house and smoke a little more rock, sweetie! Kill off all your remaining brain cells.
I’m in the middle of moving and I cannot tell you how much I hate this entire process. I hate changing my address on everything, I hate cleaning out all the closets, I hate packing and I REALLY hate unpacking. If I had more money, I would pay someone to do all this for me. In fact, I’m avoiding packing right now by writing this post.
Hopefully, Aunt Flo is on her way and I will be back to my sweet and charming self in no time.
