The Game of Life
Take This Rent And Shove It!
I’m at a financial crossroads and must choose which path to take. Wow, that sounded very serious and deep. Here’s the situation: I moved two years ago into a new apartment which I really like. It is very much an upgrade from my last place. It has two bedrooms, a dining room, my own laundry room, a fireplace, balcony and a carport. It’s even a secured building. I LOVE the location ( I live 5 minutes from where I work) and it’s in a nice, quiet neighborhood. The only problem is, they raised my rent after the first year by $50 a month, which doesn’t sound too bad until I realized that’s an extra $600 a year I hadn’t budgeted for. If ANY of my friends that lived here weren’t already married, I could have one of them be my roomate. But since they all are, and I REFUSE to live with a stranger, the roomate route is out of the question.
After a year of paying this higher rent ($735!), I’m starting to get sick of it. I will NEVER be able to save up for a house at this rate. Soooo what do I do? I could move into a large studio way across town and only pay $420 a month, which would leave me with plenty of extra cash to save up for a house. But, after living here, I’m going to feel like a kid staying in a dorm room. AUGHHHHH! Where the hell is my rich husband?! I HATE moving. I DO NOT want to move again, but obviously I have to put on my big girl panties and make a mature decision about my financial future. Crap. Crap, shit, crap, shit, crap.
Celebrity Rapture
Okay, this is getting ridiculous! First, David Carradine passes away, then Ed Macman dies earlier this week, then Farrah and Michael kick it ON THE SAME DAY, and now…Billy Mayes has died! What is going on here?! Is this a sign of the rapture?
Granted, Billy Mays is not exactly in the same category of celebrity as the others, but he was very recognizable as the “Oxyclean” guy. In fact, he pitched many, many products and now all we’re left with is Vince, the douche-bag “Shamwow” guy. He’s not even fit to carry one of Billy’s turds.
We don’t even know yet how exactly Mr. Mays died. Apparently, he had been riding on a plane and the tire blew out as they were landing. A ton of stuff fell on his head, but he appeared fine and went home. Is anyone else getting visions of Natasha Richardson here? Since when is “blunt-force trauma to the head” the #1 killer of B-List celebrities?
I’m on high-alert celebrity watch now. NO ONE IS SAFE! As my friend Val put it so eloquently in a text, “ They are dropping like flies… Patrick Swayzee is next.”
R.I.P. MJ
When I was in junior high, a group of my friends and I started a club called the “Cha-oo Posse.” We called it that because we had grown up listening to Michael Jackson and we loved him. I even carved out a white bedazzeled glove in my woodworking class as my final project and I got an A on it. My mom still has it tucked away somewhere. I am going to my parents this weekend and I will dig out my wooden glove, light a candle beside it, and listen to the “Thriller” album until my hearts content.
Moonwalk to that great beyond, Michael… cha-oo. Oh, and Farrah, sucks about you, too.
Admiting The Problem Is The First Step
“Hi, my name is Brooke and I’m addicted to celebrity news.”
I don’t know how things got this bad…it started out innocently enough when I was in high school watching “Entertainment Tonight” and “A Current Affair.” My dad would even watch them with me…it was a way for us to bond. Then, as I got older and with the internet became more and more prevalent, I now have so many ways to score celebrity news, its disgusting.
My typical day is goes something like this. I come home from work and read dlisted and E Online. Then I read people.com, us weekly.com, and tmz.com. By that time, E News comes on the air at 6:00p.m. followed by “The Daily 10.” Jesus, I can’t get enough.
By the time TMZ comes on Fox at 9:30p.m., I’m already shaky and sweating. That calms me down and I go on to watch “Chelsea Lately” at 10:00p.m. were she TALKS about celebrities (okay, makes fun of them) and then I head off to dreamland.
I think I may have to slowly wean myself because there is no way I can go cold turkey. Maybe I can find a support group online. Your prayers and support are needed during this critical time.
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Who Invited THAT Guy?!
My life lately has consisted of bridal showers, baby showers and surprise parties. I’m not kidding, I’ve had at least one of these occur every weekend for the last few weeks. Which brings me to the topic o’ the day…have you ever been to a party and there’s been that weird creepy guest that NO ONE knows? This happened at the surprise party I was at last night.
The party was for my friend Kelly’s 30th birthday party and it was thrown by her husband, Cory. Everything was going along smoothly, drinks were flowing, the grill was fired up…and then Creepy McPervy stumbled drunkenly into the backyard. He looked, how can I say this…a bit rough. The kind of rough were he may have been mainlining heroin for the last ten years whilst simultaneously smoking crack and smoking ten packs of cigarettes a day. Yeah, now that’s rough.
McPervy stopped my other friend’s husband in the kitchen and swore he went to high school with him. Um, no, Creepy, you’re about ten years older than all of us. Then he walked outside with our friends one year old nephew (oh my God, who let him hold a child!) and wanted to pass him off to one of us. Even though none of us really know the kid (and didn’t want to freak him out) we felt he was far better off in our hands than McPervy’s.
I later got the scoop from Cory that he was his older brother’s childhood friend (who WAS NOT invited) and he just sort of showed up. He’s a raging alcoholic and the best part is he’s also a basketball coach at one of the local high schools. NICE! If that piece of human excrement was my kids coach, I would make him quit the team.
Simply Cybill
As my previous post stated, I had a pretty shitty Monday. The cherry on top was the fact that I thought I opened at work and showed up at 9a.m, only to realize I actually closed. That, paired with my ballistic bitch customer, had me feeling very defeated when I finally got home that night. I stopped to grab my mail before I came in and amongst the bills and magazines was a peculiar-looking envelope. My name and address were hand-written and the return address was Studio City, CA. My heart jumped…I knew instantly what it was.
A few months ago I had written to my favorite childhood actress, Cybill Sheperd, and requested a new autographed pic of her. I actually had one when I was little (that had a personalized message for me on it) and to this day, I’m convinced it was stolen by a classmate of mine at my 9th birthday party. That same classmate got knocked up last year by a one night stand…take that, bitch! That’s karma’s way of telling you not to steal autographed pics of Cybill Sheperd!
I raced up to my apartment and carefully opened the envelope (my hands were trembling with excitement by this point) and there it was… my new autographed pic of the one and only Ms. Sheperd. No personal message and she’s not wearing the sassy strapless purple dress with zebra stripes from my first pic, but somehow, it’s enough.
To celebrate the gloriousness that is Cybill, I’m also re-running a post I wrote about “Moonlighting” back in March. Enjoy!
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?!
The Stalker
I have a gay stalker. The only reason I mention the fact that he’s gay is because I think it adds an interesting twist on the whole stalker genre. He’s obviously not stalking me because he wants to have sex with me. He just really, really, really wants to be my friend.
So this is how it all began. I used to work with “Nick” when I was a manager at a clothing store. He was a seasonal associate so I only worked with him for one summer, then he came back from college for a few weeks at Christmas. I left the company right after that holiday for a much better position at a store down the hall. Nick was a fun guy, about eight years younger than me, and we always had fun working together. Not once did I ever hang out with him outside of work, nor did I want to. He’s a bit of a drama queen and we just don’t have anything in common. Plus, I can’t stand needy people.
That following summer, he came home again to work at the clothing store while I was down the hall at my new store. He pestered me all summer to get together with him, but I managed to avoid him. I had no such luck last June when he graduated from college and came back to our town for good.
He basically cornered me in my store, gave me his number, asked me for mine (which I felt obligated to give him), then texted/called me RELENTLESSLY until I agreed to meet him for coffee. We met at Starbuck’s and played catch up which consisted of him talking about himself the entire time. He also complained that he had no one to hang out with and was so bored and lonely. In a moment of weakness, I invited him out for drinks with me and my friends for later that week (I know, I know-I’m kicking my own ass for doing this). We got together ONE time after that for lunch, because once again, he had stalked me until I said yes. That was a week before the 4th of July and the last time I hung out with him.
He continued to call, text, and drop by my store incessantly. It got to the point where EVERYONE of my associates knows who he is and will tell me over the headsets, “Your gay stalker is in the store. Stay in the backroom,” or “Oh my god, you’re gay stalker just walked by the store and was looking in. Stay down!” It’s really been a team effort to keep Nick from seeing me.
In the fall, I blocked him from my Facebook (which he found me on) and deleted his number. Gradually, he stopped texting and calling me. I thought I was in the clear. Then yesterday, without warning, he caught me in the store. I was like a deer in headlights. I was in the front and had nowhere to go. Of course, all he did was talk about himself while I prayed that a customer would walk in. I had no such luck. Eventually he wrapped up the conversation by asking me if I was still on Facebook. I said yes, but that I had “tweaked” my account because I was getting overwhelmed by too many friends. LIE! You would think he would get the hint, but no, HE DID NOT GET THE HINT.
He stopped by AGAIN today, and once again, I was trapped. It’s like he got a taste of me and now he wants it all the time. I just don’t get it. We only worked together for a total of three months, we don’t have anything in common, and I NEVER call, text or otherwise go out of my way to see him. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS KID?! I mean, I know I’m fun as shit and all, but leave me the hell alone!!! I hope he reads this (he won’t) and FINALLY gets the message. I have my friends. They have been my friends for years. I have things in common with them. They don’t just talk about themselves all the damn time. They are not annoying/needy. If I need anymore friends in my life, I will let you know Stalker Nick. Okay?
Young, Dumb, and Full Of Cum
Well, at least she has a condom!
When did teenage girls start dressing like complete street walkers? Maybe they’ve always looked like whores and I’m just now noticing since I’m getting older. I work in a mall so I see hundreds of people a week and I want to know where these young girl’s mothers are that let them leave the house half-naked and dressed like complete sluts. The phrase “cum dumpster” comes to mind. What vibe are these girls trying to send out? I will fuck anyone at least once? WHAT ARE THEY DOING?! I’m guessing a father figure isn’t present or he is a creepy dad who is sneaking into little Ashley’s bedroom after mommy passes out.
Sadly, these are the girls who will be working the poles in a few years and contracting a variety of STDs. On top of that, they’ll be knocked up by age 16 and this vicious cycle will just keep repeating itself. I am so thankful I had a mother and father who leaned on the conservative side. I’ll never forget leaving for school one day and my dad thinking my shorts were too short. They were Bermudas and came down to my knees, but at least he was looking out for me.
I would also like to know… when did kids start publicly dry humping each other? I’ve seen couples that couldn’t be more than 14 or 15 yrs old hanging all over each other and tonguing one another like their life depended on it. I don’t want to see anyone, regardless of age, doing that in public. Especially not kids who barely look like they’ve gone through puberty. It’s disgusting. It’s scary to think that they’re not old enough to drive, but they’re old enough to have sex. Awful, clumsy, unprotected, not at all pleasurable for the girl in any way sex. I am praying that if my nephews, who are teenagers, are having sex, that at least they are smart enough to wear a condom and pull that shit out. I am not old enough to be a great aunt!
‘Tard Phobia
I had a cousin on my dad’s side of the family named Diane and she was retarded. I do not know what kind of retardation she had, but it was fairly severe. She could walk, but not really talk, mostly she just groaned. She also drooled a lot and would try to touch me. It really freaked me out. This led me to have what I now term as “tard phobia.” It’s a mental condition in which one freaks the fuck out at the sight of retarded people. Don’t judge me, many people have this condition.
What led me to relapse was this past weekend, the Special Olympics were in town. I was oblivious to this fact until a customer mentioned it and I damn near had a panic attack right there in my store. For some reason, they always bus them to the mall and it causes a commotion every time. I never know how to act and I am scared they are going to try and hug me. I don’t like strangers in my personal space, ‘tarded or not. I also don’t know what I am supposed to call them. Is it “mentally challenged,” “special needs,” or “handicapped?” I realize ‘tard is not a politically correct term, but it’s the easiest to type so that’s what I’m using. And what do you call someone who is mentally challenged AND special needs? Those poor bastards are screwed!
Luckily, I didn’t work on Sunday so I avoided the ‘tard rush altogether. How do I get over this phobia? And don’t even suggest that I volunteer and submerse myself in the special needs world because I think I would shit myself and then curl up in the fetal position and rock myself to sleep. I’m sure by writing this post I’ve guaranteed that I will have at least one retarded child who is also deaf, dumb, blind and a midget. Maybe that will cure me. I can root him on in the Special Olympics and I’ll even buy a bumper sticker that says “Tard Mom And Proud Of It!” Then, and only then, will I be cured of this horrible disease.
