Life on The Fringe...We all fall down.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly of Kimbo- 2010 Edition

2011-01-04T08:05:00.001-08:00

Something of a year that two thousand and ten. It's over, here's what happened. No particular order.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

1. A tree fell on my car- The Bad

It was a beautiful sunny Friday in Canton Baltimore. I had gotten a ride to work that day because I was having car trouble and it just wasn't safe having a car cutting off on 83 at a high rate of speed. A co-worker that lives in my Brewer's Hill neighborhood picked me up that morning. Ironically, this was the first time meeting her. Blah blah work goes on. It's the night of an O's game so traffic is slow going. As we near my house she says "wait which one is your house again?" to which I answered "right where that fucking tree is on my car." LaFawnduh is no longer with us.

2. The Return of the McRib- The Good
Some say it's gross. I say they're gross. Always loved it and will embrace it in my face upon it's return each time. I'm so glad to know that I have a McRib alliance in my life these days. We're like the Kiss Army but with out make-up. It mostly involves smearing McRib sauce on our faces and touching ourselves. Come back soon you delicious riblet.

3. I catch my ass on fire- The Ugly
In a perfect storm of ridiculous and probability, this is a true story. Whatever you do, DO NOT have two packs of matches in your back pocket. It's dangerous. It was getting late and I was one of perhaps six people in the bar. I was at a table with the owner and another friend. As I slid off my stool, someone behind me said "what's that smell?" I was feeling my left ass cheek warming up. I looked over my left shoulder to see smoke coming out of my pocket. I reached in pulled out the two packs of on fire matches and slammed them on the table. In a miracle that only a baby angel can provide, I was not burned and neither were my pants. It's why I'm called the "Silent Genius."

4. Baby Skylar Beats Cancer- The Good
Jewely, one of my dearest kindest friends in the whole world, got unfortunate news this summer. Her five year old nephew was diagnosed with Leukemia and was ordered to treatment immediately. He spent his summer vacation getting chemo. While playing at the pool he had an accident and cracked his head open which called for staples. School started....still on chemo. A short story that seemed really long, we recently found out that Skylar is cancer free!

5. Getting Broken Up With Via Text Message- The Ugly
Not only did this happen, it happened while I was in Germany.(yes, a foreign country) In a perfect act of cowardice and a grown-up fail...true story. In other news, it might be time to bring back the blog "red flag." A hit from the beginning of my blog. Please refer to my "The Awesomeness of Dating...I Know You're Reading This" entry. I have one rule to dating for myself really..."never bet against your own team." Kim rule following fail. Two red flags, first date. When you hear these words "you know we're getting married right" or "iIhave federal drug chargers for cocaine" there shouldn't be a second date. At the end of the day, a text message when you're 30 years old to break-up with someone with whom a few days earlier you spoke to about moving in with and with whom you were constantly planning your future with is...well...enter your own descriptor here. Man fail=Kimbo win. Bullet dodged. I guess we can also label this one "the good."

6. Ben Rothlisberger Finally Gets That Tampon He Needs- The Good
It was a little different than the one he usually needs as this one was for his nose. One highly esteemed Mr. Haloti Ngata of the Baltimore Ravens honored his request with a good old fashion nose break. And for this, we salute you Mr. Ngata.

7. My Gig Writing for Splice Today- The Good
Though short lived it was a nice fun paid writing gig to shit my scantily clad logical view about the worldwide web. They range from sports stories to pop culture to politics. Below are the links to all of my stories, several in the top 5...what? what!?
http://www.splicetoday.com/sports/milledgeville-ga-your-new-touristy-rape-spot
http://www.splicetoday.com/digital/betty-white-2-0
http://www.splicetoday.com/sports/the-team-no-one-follows
http://www.splicetoday.com/sex/the-sec-sex-how-not-to-surf-for-porn-in-2010
http://www.splicetoday.com/digital/because-we-haven-t-seen-anything
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/justin-bieber-the-gay-propaganda-nazi
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/my-love-of-informercials
http://www.splicetoday.com/music/rock-n-roll-high-school-30-years-on
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/10-things-i-hate-about-you
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/the-inner-harbor-s-dog-crap-problem
http://www.splicetoday.com/consume/speakeasy-saving-o-donnell-square-one-drink-at-a-time
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/some-day-are-worse-than-others
http://www.splicetoday.com/digital/google-suggest-shocking-stupidity-revealed
http://www.splicetoday.com/politics-and-media/patrick-mcdermott-s-bizarre-disappearance
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/perez-hilton-and-my-continual-obsession-with-celebrity-gossip

8. James Madison beats Virginia Tech- The Good
I've met a lot of people in my life who don't know that James Madison is a university. They do now. Boy I miss Harrisonburg sometimes as demonstrated in the video below. (nice little minute montage of the old days) Proud of my Dukes!

9. I can ride my bike with the handlebars backwards- The Good and The Ugly
Picture it, night of Oktoberfest party, Baltimore, 2010. A nice little party, after I had already drank for breakfast and lunch, and we've decided to play cornhole, bags or whatever you know it as. An owner of a local watering hole wants to play with us. We set up only to realize that the cat of one of my friend's roommates has peed on the beanbags. After trying to play with rubber gloves and me vomiting, (I'm not good with smells) we halt. After letting some drunk girls throw a couple because we thought it was funny they were throwing pee bags without knowledge, I made a move. I called another local pub and was lent a bike to go get the bags. I get there, get the bags, come out and can't figure out what the hell is wrong with the handle bars. This said, I had to get back. Picture it..me riding down one way streets, braking with my thumbs and giggling. I get back to proclaim that "I broke the bike and don't know what happened." I hop off, they promptly just turn the handlebars around. This was the night I saved bags. There may or may not have been other factors involved.(read this like a warning at the end of a pharmaceutical commercial)

10. I Finally see Muse live- The Good
Last but not least...I had tickets to see Muse with my friend Marjorie when I lived in LA. We had bomb seats because we worked for Warner Brothers so...you know. I decided to move to TX and missed the damn show. That was nearly 4 years ago. Finally in March I got to see Muse at 1st Mariner Arena which is nice and small. I can honestly say it was one of the best live shows I have ever, ever seen. Thanks Muse. You melted my face. I can't find any pics of the show right now but all I can say is LASER BEAMS!

And that concludes my top ten of twenty ten. May 2011 be filled with mishaps, awesomeness and assholes so I have something to write about. Peace y'all!

The great toaster nemesis, Mysti Bluee and primal conspiracy.

2010-12-15T11:37:00.000-08:00

It's the giving season and I like to help people so I'll start with an open letter. A heart felt one. (Please read with the "Eye of the Tiger" guitar riff in your head, over and over. Riff only)

Dear Old Man Winter,

Go to hell and die. I hate you. I am more tired than Rip Torn's face, of chasing my goddamn garbage cans down the street. It's like a sport, a kill sport. I have to find the can and the lid in time before some asshole runs over them. Looking for the lid underneath cars and skulking down alleys like a turd. Hoping that some asshole pigeon or alley cat doesn't get territorial with me. I almost got killed by a flock of pigeons the other day. Do you know how much I already hate pigeons? I give them nasty comments in public on a regular basis. They're grosser than that time Billy Bob Thorton and Angelina Jolie were doing it.

Now, that bitch friend of yours, Wind? You have got to get a hold of her. While chasing my trash can I was so cold, I'm pretty sure I lost circulation in my boobs. Boobbite. You both suck.

Love,
Kim
-PS, really don't appreciate having to chase the trash cans. I live on a hill. Asshole.

So yeah, I hate the cold, so what? That stinging you get inside your nose that makes you cry because of the air temperature is as awesome as catching a table leg with my pinky toe. Thanks for the bonus bloody noses and body aches though. I like bonuses.

I'm also not a fan of Xmas. It's got terrible music, terrible sweaters and terrible intentions. BOOOOOOO Xmas! Seriously, I can't go enjoy myself at the corner pub without my soul being stabbed to death by stupid people rushing the bar on their winter pub crawl dressed up in K-Mart sweaters and robot santa hats...farting and stinking out my bar. Those hats are creepy as hell and aren't cute much less comedic. Yeah, you're awesome you have a hat you can turn on. Such a wild and crazy guy you are. So now that it's butt to nut in the place, you're going to start dropping beer farts? I could kill you. I gag when I walk by a dumpster. I'm not equipped for this. Of courrrrrrse, it's far too cold to go outside plus, parting the sea of morons is way to much work. Pffft, a sea, you did it wrong Jesus. Try parting the sea of morons, or maybe try to part a fart. A sea? Loser.

And this, this is what I would classify as a rape sweater. Wearing this sweater may cause headaches, seizures, confusion and ambition problems.

I realized the other day that I have a cancel button on my toaster. This is amazing to me. All my life I have never been able to wait for the toast to naturally pop-up from the toaster. I have always forced the slider back up. I realized, the toaster is my nemesis. For some reason, my extreme lack of patience while toasting has become a nemesis situation. I don't know why but I don't want that bastard to beat me. I end the toasting first. I END THE TOASTING. The discovery of the cancel button kind of made my world. In other news, I have a toaster. SCREECH!!!

I have found myself in the unfortunate situation of becoming entrapped in daytime television shows recently. It's really starting to effect my everyday social interactions. When people say hello to me, I find myself shouting "you ARE the father!" or "get off my stage!" You ever seen Judge Karen? She's a spicy black with yellow hair. Awesome. Real Judge, real drama, real justice. She'll tell you... "Stay in your lane!" *The content of that link in does not reflect this blog's views.

Now...meet, Mysti Bluee. I originally saw her on Judge Karen's Court. Upon googling her (she made her television plea because she's a rapper), turns out she was also in the running to be on Flavor of Love. That link will take you to her super classy dope audition tape for the show. She is a gem. Back to her appearance on Judge Karen though. She was on the show suing a guy who f'd up her paint job on her '04 Ford Taurus. She explains that she's a diva in East Hollywood (that's where people get stabbed and robbed) and she always goes out "suited and booted." She has to look good everywhere she goes, that's why she was getting the Playboy bunny logo painted on her car. Every statement she made was followed by, "I mean, look at me?"

The truth is, how could we not!?? Everywhere you go, how could we not?

Today I think we need to salute you, Captain Awesome, for the not-so-awesome name change. I, I can't even go into this one. You sir, are an idiot. And for this, we give you a novelty robotic santa hat.

I've always been one for theories, so I'll just go at it. I can't say for sure, whether that guy who looks like a tragic love child of Bill Mahr, Martha Stewart and a Chinese kitten, Julian Assange,

or the sheer evils of Paula Abdul is behind it BUT...I've found that most internet traffic directed to my blog through google search is via the below picture.

I'm beginning to think that this picture holds a secret back end code. I suspect it may hold the WikiLeaks "poison pill" that could do international damage. On the flip side, it could just contain Paula Abdul's pills and she already has done international damage.

Cute picture I suppose but I think it really throws people off when they find themselves perusing a blog entry called "Feces, Pretzels and legitimate fears. Shhhh, I see sound."

In reflecting upon seasons, divas and good old conspiracy, let's roll credits and end scene to this. Actually, watch this clip first and hum what sue is humming. Very perfect.

I've done my best to prove why cold and xmas sucks. I know there are so many of you who aren't with me. I don't get it. I am learning that chasing my garbage cans can be like boot camp and as much as I hate it, it could prove to be useful. Follow your dreams...television judge shows and you TOO can be a rapper and never underestimate a toaster. Zulu Nation and Jew. (i really wanted to use those terms in this blog but couldn't quite find the right spot, had to get it out)

The Original Gangsta and Humanity and the Bean

2010-10-20T09:24:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes. Once again I've been neglectful. You too may have noticed, my splice days ended. I had several stories in the top 5 and they dropped a bunch of writers, one being me. Short lived but fun. Plus, I was in a relationship that can only be described in all truthiness by the picture below.

Through thought and request, I've once again been prompted to rip the devil's bowels through his urethra with some bantor. Either way, we'll always have things to discuss. Do I start with people's bumper stickers? The absolute garbage of humor or Kanye West's diamond teeth? That should not be permitted like being atheist or gay as deemed by the Boy Scouts. The King of flagrant douchebaggery was quoted as saying "I guess there's just certain things that rock stars are supposed to do." Roll song and read next paragraph...

First of all Sir (with this honorific I've already given you much too credit), you are not a rock star. A rock star bleeds on stage, wears sweaty leather pants, invents signature stage moves, fills swimming pools up with unnecessary things like condoms and pigeons because they can and bouts with addictions of any sort. Last but not least...plays rock n' roll. Additionally when feuding with fellow artists they write songs and have invitations like "get in the ring motherfucker!" or they fight. Though many of today's "rock stars" take to tweeting like a bunch of pussies, I've yet to see one run on stage while a cocoa pop 19 year old artist is getting a VMA of all things and start shit. Simply put, they never run on stage and bitch about awards they didn't get. Everybody knows that real rock stars know awards are bullshit and could care less.

For many of us, I know these are uncertain times. However, when I log onto facebook and your post to another person is "what's that home decorating blog because i need some inspiration," Fuck you. Are you kidding me? If you reach out to home decorating blogs for inspiration, I must be lost as a human being. I'm pretty sure I can find more earnest nuggets of inspiration in a Jack Handy quote. Probably even a fortune cookie. Maybe in a riddle on the bottom of a Natty Boh cap.

It leads me to believe that most of you is hollow like Christine O'Donnell and do you know about her? She created a platform around anti-masturbation and equated it to adultery. I just want to point out that I do NOT have thousands of kids. Her father actually played Bozo the Clown on television at one point. This at least gives me an idea of the tip of the iceberg. Like the tiiiiipppy tip tip tip. That's it.

I remember sometime towards the end of my illustrious inhabitance of TX a story where a man threw a burrito at the clerk and ran out of the store with some shit. They never caught him. I feel like it was Bedford but it's best to forget that place. A few days ago, a man and woman tried to rob a jewelry store with a trash bag, a kitchen knife and a wheelchair. I would just like to point out that a burro is a better fucking getaway car than a wheelchair. Sooooo, you thought you were really going to rob a jewelry store, that I'm sure is full of cash for gold caliber type items, name necklaces that say "Cricket" in cursive and dollar signs, like this:

1. park wheelchair

2. put on trash bag

3. rise from wheelchair and enter store

4. demand everything with a kitchen knife

5. get everything and exit store

6. get back into wheelchair where dubious partner is waiting to push you off into the sunset

That is so fucking gangsta, I hope that wheelchair has spinners.

I'll make this one short. I've got to start breaking these things into installments anyway. What have we learned this time around? Wheels are not always better, apparently there is a separation between church, state and masturbation (I think it's in the Constitution Christine) and whatever you do...don't reciprocate. End scene and roll credits to "The Way It Is" by Bruce Hornsby.

I know this sounds crazy like Tom Sizemore BUT...

2010-04-25T17:24:00.000-07:00

I'm currently writing stories twice a week for Splice Today to rock your jock. My days are Mondays and Wednesdays and you can find my little stories like crack rocks of opinion between your couch cushions. I mean in the "The Feed" section on the home page. If you didn't know, now ya do. Here are the links to my two first stories, new one tomorrow. Enjoy or fuck off. Either is fine with me. Also, feel free to spread and re-post them or this blog like a dirty love fever.

Milledgeville GA: Your New Touristy Rape Spot

Betty White 2.0

Stupidia, Lady Mustaches and Chicken Pianos with Drakaar on top

2010-04-03T18:40:00.000-07:00

Hello Cheeldren! I want to begin by saying yes. I live in Baltimore. I just wanted to clear that up. I no longer reside in the dirty south and have acclimated very nicely. Baltimore welcomed me with open arms and before you knew it I was walking down the street saying "fuck your mother!" to drunken strangers. I am officially a Baltimoron.

Now it's 450AM...so I figure that I better start typing this blog I've been speaking of forever and a day since I can't fall asleep. Of course, now that I'm awake a flagrant parade of stupidia is marching through my head. Things like, how come when I sigh and I'm exhaling I make that series of bangs that occurs on the old MTV News intro right before Kurt Loder came on? That's a surface scratch thought but it is a real thing. Not too long ago I let out a sigh of frustration that much sounded like chewbacca getting punched in the throat or a walrus and a seal mating. I'm pretty sure my roommates are terrified, I hear cocking and loading coming from downstairs. I actually did scare myself, I'm holding my own hand. They might think it's the great beast of Baltimore who comes in the middle of the night to braid your hair while you sleep except he doesn't use your hair, he makes braids out of his Chewbacca hair and glues them to your head.

I'm beginning to feel so blessed everytime I read the news. Blessed because how else can one be so depressed, amused and compelled all at the same time? Yep, another news story of a celebrity going to sex rehab. A public Mea Culpa to save your image makes me laugh. Listen here David Duchovny, Tiger Woods, Jesse James, Eric Benet...give me a goddamn break. I'd like to go around acting like an asshole and blaming my actions on sex too except that I'm a realist. I TOO like sex but you don't see me walking around shirking any type of responsibility because I had sex on the brain. I don't want to hear any lame excuses either like "my indiscretions were actually the fault of friends like Michael Jordan." That's right because they're YOUR indiscretions. Asshole. Sex is pretty much like...the oldest thing in the world. Men have always innately had it on the brain, as go the jokes. Women do too, we just handle it a little more properly like not touching our junk in public. This is just adding onto the next bullshit thing in American society to not take responsibility for. We've grown into that culture as we started suing innate objects because we're dumb and now we're just taking it to a new level. When I grow up, I want to be an asshole and I'll sue to do it because that's my right. I'm going to get my name changed to Asshole Jones and have kids named Brown Eye and Butthole.

I have been noticing, speaking of stupidia, the ridiculousness of all things Facebook. I started the"Pickle Ass Fart Nose" page nine months ago to prove how people could be a fan of anything. Compared to what people are fans of now, Pickle Ass Fart Nose(become a fan...official fan club t-shirts coming soon) should be the next president. He is actually cool now. I've noticed the new trend is to become a fan of past actions. Ding Dong McGuillicutty just became a fan of "When I was growing up I had to record songs off the radio onto tape" and Ding Dong McGuillicutty just became a fan of "When I grew up I had to blow into video games to make them work" Fucking brilliant. Really? Thank you for stating what you ACTUALLY had to do. This is really clearing the way for such hit pages as "When I was born I had to come out of my mother's vagina" "When I grew up I had to walk to the bathroom" and "When I was growing up I farted with my butt." Then there are the people who just became a fan of the sky, moon, happiness. I am a fan of air and a fan of angst so I can take a deep breath before I let it all out. Christ in a tube top! I realized too, I am a fan of some dumb things...like the Blue Ridge Mountains for example. I am friends with them. They don't care about me. They don't care that I used to hike to bear's den, drink beer and pee on them. They really don't give a shit about me.It's really getting ridiculous.

= Fan

My friend Kim Fowler changed her status to:

"Kim Fowler is now friends with herself. Kim Fowler became a friend of Kim Fowler! Kim Fowler just joined the group "Kim Fowler is Awesome" And then Kim Fowler commented on all of this." She is saying it kind of best.

Since I have so many ridiculous things to say this time around, I'll stick with the theme. Focus Factor. I saw a commercial for the pills pictured below. They're for your brain. One of the actual selling points on the commercial is an old man saying "remember names, birthdays and even your keys." Wow, that sounds like some powerful shit. Orrr you could just try to not be a complete retard.

This is also a real thing. I have a terrible feeling I might even know someone who has this. Behold, the Hug-E-Gram. It is for one your loved one is away and you need a hug. You can also personalize these giant life like Mickey Mouse arms with a message like a Build-A-Bear. This may be the worst invention I've seen since the Shake Weight.

This infomercial is Awesome.

Not only would this gift be automatic grounds for breaking-up, it may also be just cause for life dismissal.

There is a receptionist at my office. The name of the person has been changed to protect her privacy. I'll call her "Special." I do not understand how her thoughts appear and what process takes place before she becomes audible and says a sentence.

Me: Do you know if we have any legal pads? I don’t see any.

Special: Well, I know, when I started here in October for that freelance thing or whatever, I couldn’t find any either. And all of the RSVP’s have been sent out for my sister’s wedding, you know, but some of them got kicked back and our family doesn’t know Keith’s side of the family so nobody knows what to do. Some people might get here tomorrow, some people might get here next week so we told him just to call them since it’s his family. (Phone Rings) I walk away confused.

The other day I caught her typing in antidisestablishmentarianism into Merriam-Webster.com. I said "whatcha doin'?" She said, "I'm trying to see if this is really a word, my friend says it is look" and shows me her phone. I say "it is." She says "what does it mean?" As I started to say do you know what "anti" means? The phone rang. Saved by the bell again. How in the holy god shit would I explain something like that to her? I am fairly certain she is confused by capital and lower case letters.

I recently had to get her to personalize a powerpoint presentation that we run at the front desk to welcome a guest. My interaction was so frustrating I had to walk away in the middle to get a cup of coffee. It was like trying to explain something to a Chinese person in German using sign language. Plus, I could not take my eyes off her mustache. My god man. It might be blonde but everyone can see it. I'm looking right at it. It's not hot. Take care of that! I'm f'n Italian and you don't see me walking around with a mustache. Also, somebody needs to trim their bush. That's just out of hand.

I'm not sure what her deal is but she often bursts out with spontaneous sentences about things in which I have to clue to what she is referring. The power was out the other day, that ding bat saw a man waiting at the door, obviously our cards don't work. She starts for the door the cuts and walks behind the desk and tried to buzz him in. No words. Then I'm forced to say something mild to her like, "hey silly, remember, the power is out?" That's not what I wanted to say. It's like when someone says "I like your hat." It's a lie. They're shocked and what they really want to say is "did you make that?" Same reason someone holds the door open for you. I don't care who it is, it's not to be polite, it's to check out your ass.

Since we're talking about work, I just want to point something out to vendors and anyone reading this that I can help. Calling me and telling me your husband just passed away will not help me make a purchasing decision. That's what you get for getting married.

You know, in hindsight, maybe I should have just gone to the Birthingway College of Midwifery and avoided the office situation entirely. Perhaps I should have gone to the Pacific College of Oriental Medicine. Zen bitches. Zen. I guess then, I wouldn't be amused by the last names I come across in my daily life like Farthing and Dumerer. Cracchiolo was a good one too. Sounds like the typical American tried to say crotch in Spanish.

Pet Stars...are you aware of this? The Pet Stars? This is not a joke and that is Mario Lopez.

This show had "celebrity guests." By celebrity I mean James Avery, yep, the dad from Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Mr. Avery was joined by some chick who used to be on Baywatch and the host of "Dinner and a Movie." Seriously, how many times to we have to see a chicken play a small piano? Plus, that was SO already done on the Golden Girls...Count Bessie the showbiz chicken. I want to take that piano and the little toilet that a bird can flush with his beak and place them in Mario Lopez's ass.

I don't often eat at McDonald's but sometimes you just need that shit. Do you know that if you get a breakfast sandwich and ask for no egg, the high tech order accuracy screen says "no folded." The egg is called "folded." That's just gross. While I'm on food, I want to address you, yeah you. You people who create kitchens in your cubicles. Not only do we have every utensil, dish and storage option along with two microwaves in the company kitchen, there are not one but TWO Super Toasty Ovens.

As you read this next part, imagine it as read by Denis Leary.

You do not need coffee makers, hot plates, espresso machines, toasters, dishes...office shelves filled with peanut butter, fruit, chips, cereal, bread, nutella and pot roasts. You fucking asshole. This is why my area of the office smells like a Turkish food bizarre. No cubicle kitchens! Not now, not ever!

I'll say it too. Right to you. I don't care what people at work think of me, it's already bad. The other day I was typing "title page" and got called away so stopped typing and left. When I got back, there it was in big letters. I had left "tit" in big letters right there. I sit right outside of the CEO's office. I don't need fans at the office. You know what else? If you have "Director" or "President" in your title, no "LOL'ing" in emails! What the hell man?(in Stewie's voice)

In the age of texting and the internet, words have gotten ridiculous. Nothing is worse than the fact that my mother knows how to text. It's bad enough that my mom says "like" every other word like some 13 year old valley girl, now she's lol'ing and omg'ing. Christ. She said at dinner the other night "I said well, John, you have some BOB going on." When I asked what BOB was I get "oh you've never heard that?" Like I'm out of the cool kid loop. Apparently BOB means belly over belt. It's called a muffin top or perhaps a just a gut. Fucking old people initialisms suck. Internet talk has really make talking annoying. It's so unintelligent. I'd like to say why didn't kids think of using the first letter of words to speak in code earlier? Then I would say oh, because it's dumb. STFU. The next person who says TMI gets sucker punched too. It's 2010. Now this below...this is just dumb. Somewhere in Locust Hill looking out to Fells Point which I can now obviously deem the wrong side of the tracks.

I uh...well. Somewhere in PA on a road trip a few months back, we stopped to eat. I went to the bathroom and this was on the toilet.

I was worried that this sensor mechanism was doubling as a small camera and I must admit I was a little pee shy. This company's name for the product they provide= Terrible F!

Something I've noticed is that a lot of people lately have the "grass is always greener" syndrome. I think we all have it sometimes it just seems to be the season. A lot of one day this, one day that. It's like living on the internet...what content of that last expression is veritable and what needs to be snoped? I'm taking notes and I'm here to tell you, sometimes the grass is only greener because it's fake. Get a hold of yourself man. Now, granted I was in Dundalk when I saw this, it is a slightly different inner confusion.

It may be a little hard to tell but yes, that is a Bad Boyz sticker, a No Fear sticker and a peace sign. Wow. That is one kick ass hippie. I'll also bet he carries a comb in his back pocket and wears Drakkar.

Until next time, we're all going to be ok. End scene and roll credits to "Too Fake" by one of my new favorite bands, Hockey. Rock.

You Pregnant? Gay scissors merrily concussing.

2009-06-10T15:25:00.000-07:00

Hello creature features. *Record scratch! Um...there's a woman on TV named Antigone...does she know she's named after the product of an incestuous affair? Maybe they skip Oedipus in Detroit. *placing needle back on record. Today I learned from television, the second most accurate source of information next to the internet, that one in four women misread pregnancy tests. Really? Well, that tells me that one in four women should surely not be having sex...and that two of four are sluts. I know statistics are flawed but I'd say this is about accurate. I'm basing this upon my observations that 70% of girls below 25 already have 3 kids. (that's the mother on the right)

Well, that and 25% of them are confused by a + or - and or a color on an urine activated indicator stick. However, these numbers may be flawed as I currently reside in the south.

Speaking of the internet, which I love love love, it's changed communication so hugely. I freakin' love it but I've got to say I think its led to a little detachment from human touch. I mean, look how much more pervasive having sex with yourself is now that we have the internet. Some people even regret living outside the virtual world and choose to notify their partners of STD's via e-cards. Really? Nothing says "sorry I made your vagina fall off" like a cartoon laden ecard containing and emoticon frowny face. As I only speak truth, see for yourself. ST D-Cards.

As I smoke along in this Pall Mall of a life, I cannot help but make note to build onto this giant pile of shit I already am. Despite my recent concussion, I still maintain my notes. OH! what happened? I got chased by a grizzly bear and a dark ninja(these are poseur ninjas that only do evil) jumped out in front of me. Though I defeated both of them with no problem, a granite counter ran out and knocked me in the head.

Of course this happened while at a family function. This fact alone made me hope for unconsciousness. While there, my sweet quote generating Aunt stated her reasoning for not allowing her gay hair dresser to do her hair anymore. She began to explain her fear of her head getting nicked by the scissors and getting AIDS to which my awesome cozen(yes like Larry and Balky) replied "scissors don't have AIDS Ma." I never heard of scissor AIDS or gay scissors anyway. IS this one?

Anyway, one observation I've made recently is 1 corona+1 man from England= tool. I don't know why I have such an issue with that but don't you? It's like a German coming here and going to Wiener Schnitzel or someone from Switzerland going to the Hershey factory.

While I'm on foreigners, I saw this bumper sticker today. The only unfortunate thing is that I didn't have my phone with me to snap a picture so I had to google it. Hopefully this serves the same effect for you.
While this may be true I'll bet my ass it wasn't a foreigner who formulated this sentence. I'm just sayin. In this day and age there's so much focus on things like racial profiling including foreigners. I can't help but think that people purposely throw things out there as a watchdog mechanism to gauge people's responses with moves like this. I read an article on fancy horse hairdos. WHAT? That's normal. Anyway, here are the pictures that were included in the story.

See...you think what I thought! Avert your eyes and keep your comments to yourself. Otherwise you're an insensitive racist. I saw a new politically correct "no parking" sign the other day. It read:

"Please refrain from parking your rickshaws, scooters, unicycles, bicycles, tricycles, quad-cycles, golf-carts, gondolas with wheels, invisible jets, Flintstone mobiles, Bat mobiles, assorted mobiles, oxen, llamas, como se llamas, cows, horses, mules, ponies, donkeys, miniature versions of the same, unicorns, winged unicorns, Pegasus, giant snakes, lambs, goats, inanimate objects powered by pixie dust, hovercrafts (with/without eels), Segways or any other devices used to get your body from point A to Point B in this dimension here. Teleportation is, as always, allowed."

Ok, I really didn't see that but I'm sure we're not far off.

I know that if you're reading this you have to be smart. On my recent trip and 3 different airports, I saw all kinds of people AND don't get me wrong, I love people except for the ones that I hate. Not only in Syracuse, did I see what for all descriptive purposes we'll call "Mr. Wolf Moon," but also at Love Field. This is what I mean and please read the reviews of this product

Mr. Wolf Moon

AAAAAAAmaz-za-zing!

Since I consider myself an optimist, let's talk about email signatures. Nothing like a fresh breath of someone else's life to inject a revelation into yours. There's a guy at work who sends out motivational statements to everyone in the morning to get the day started. The other day he sent:
"An optimist is someone who goes after Moby Dick in a rowboat and takes the tartar sauce with him."

I usually counter that with "the next person who takes the last of the coffee and doesn't start a fresh pot, hide. you're about to get your stupid head ripped off and shoved up your stupid ass. have a nice day."

A vendor sent me an email and her signature is "Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present. " I can already tell she's single, enjoys a glass of wine but she puts ice in it, wears a gold necklace that is the cursive letter her first name starts with and generally plays it safe by doing things like not cooking fish out of fear of under cooking it and getting sick.

Since we're on the topic of things that suck, I've put myself in a position of needing a fix for all shows "real housewives." I am ashamed to admit it except that everyone else I know follows too. The latest..."The Real Housewives of New Jersey." What did they expect to happen? Find Jersey girls with manners? Not even the rich ones in NJ. I've also unfortunately come to realize I've recently had a Danielle in my life.

Somewhat physical similarities but mostly behavioral. Danielle has quite an extensive past marred with drugs and bad judgement. Then, to save face forges on through life with half truths out of fear of being exposed forcing the words of truth subtly to slip from her lips. I think we all know they type. Those who live by the creedo "If I don't talk about it, it's like it's not real." Otherwise known as liars. It becomes unfortunate because you truly care about the person but continuously hit your limits. And they don't care...as long as they get what they need. As much quoted by Vonnegut, pearls before swine. No sense in putting anything out there to someone who won't value it. Kinda funny how something as useless and trite as a real NJ housewife can lead to epiphanies.
Click below and listen while reading the rest

Well I'm looking forward to my next big puff from this Pall Mall of a life. What have we learned today? This time I won't summarize, I'll let you marinate in your own thought this time. Continue to roll credits and get ready to ride it big and tall or not at all. Big changes ahead. Stay tuned! Peace bitches.

Feces, pretzels and legitimate fears. Shhh, I see sound.

2009-02-09T17:41:00.000-08:00

You know, I can't be sure but I would like to propose a theory that petting zoos are the gateway to hell. You know I'm not a religious person so I'm referring to hell on earth of course. Have you ever noticed how mangy and crazy eyed animals are in a petting zoo? That's especially discomforting when you eat half of those animals. Then we encourage our children to pet them. Do you know how dirty children's hands already are? Before they touch the animal they have bathroom door, boogers, found sidewalk gum, crotch juice, dirt and dog lick on them. Did you know you can get e-coli at a petting zoo? Then the children vomit and excrete from all orifices which you have to clean up. That's the first step of hell. Then they spread it to everyone. Kids are carriers. They are most likely to cause a plague in the 21st century. It's a proven fact. They spread like rats and have the resilience of cockroaches. Then if the children get killed off from the filthy petting zoos, who will be our future? WHO will stop the pirates? Then the pirates will take over and disease will REALLY be everywhere. Do you know how filthy pirates are? Good Googamooga. We don't have to worry about another ice age if we're heading towards the pirate plague. We will have to take pills to remind us to take our pills. Please everyone. I beg you. Do not let the below image fool you.

In the true fashion of my scattered thoughts, I will be brushing my teeth and going back to Chris Brown biting Rihanna. Who bites anyway? Biting is for babies and dogs both of which dribble and poop in the dining rooms of restaurants. Then I think about the lawmaker in TX(State Rep Betty Brown (512) 463-0458) last week who wants to make Asian people change their names so Americans can pronounce them. Then I thought about pirates and the Sham Wow guy beating a hooker. Then a dolphin swims by singing a slow club song and I'm back to having the greatest day of my life. Feel free to hit play and let the tune guide you through the rest of your reading.

Lot's of people have buzzwords. I'm more of a buzzphrase girl. Things like "what's up my ninja?" or "bitch, i will cut you and kick you in titty." Is it wrong to tell someone(over 60) that if they don't shut up I will smack them so hard their brains will come out of their vagina? It's kind of my new thing. I think it very appropriately sums up my emotions at times. I'm not a violent person but it really is worth the look I get after saying it. It makes me feel good like salami, sex and music from the 90's.

Well now I'm driving down the street. It's lovely outside. Big blue skies and big puffy clouds. Then, a little rock falls out of the sky and hits my windshield. There was no logical explanation so naturally I thought, "wow, a bird just passed a kidney stone and it hit my windshield." Lucky! I'll have you know I've also seen a hummingbird take a crap. I wasn't sure this could be the only plausible explanation though. The stone could have also reasonably been a piece of petrified space bird shit. That's a long way to fall you know? Space?

I've been looking around a lot lately. Human beings never cease to amaze me. This girl...

I like to call this picture American Dream. Really? In a room full of people? Even if you have a cute ass(not pictured here), the bottom line of your cheek is supposed to be above the hemline.

This one I call "I got crabs."

Then there's this person. They have a job.

I mean, I know people in The South are into Looney Toons themed clothing and tattoos but this was a little special. He was all "Thug Life" and wearing this hoodie.

To me...this doesn't scream "ALL UP IN YOUR ASS WITH THE RESURRECTION!" it kind of whispers, Gangtas can be gay too.

It hit me as I was eating some Cheerio's brand chex mix. I kept digging around for the chex and getting mostly all pretzels. Those are the cheap over abundant ingredient that nobody wants! They deserve nothing more then getting fingered by dirty hands in bowls on bars across America. In a bowl full of pretzels and those deformed little breadsticks there are only a few chex. They're a rarity. I seek them. If I ever run a personal ad it will say "chex seeking chex." Maybe I've got myself fooled and I really AM a pretzel but I will try everyday with all my might to jump back in the oven and fix that. If I didn't live in the mix though, I would have nothing to tell you about I think.

Sometimes you have a chexzel. You have people like the BTK Killer. Church going, married,daughters and respected member of his community. His wife knew nothing of him binding, torturing and killing people for nearly 20 years. I'm just saying you never know. Now people can watch you on Google, cyber stalk you and generally have an incredible amount of access to you without you ever knowing. You can never truly know someone now matter how hard you try. That could be their hand you're seeing facilitate things in that porn you're viewing. You never know.

Back to dolphins and slow club and the greatest day of my life

There's something else I learned about recently called Synesthesia. I totally want this disease. It's a condition where your senses get mixed up and some people can see colors in sound. I would like for smell to be associated with sight and work so that if it's gross you just see a color. I could smell baby diarrhea all day or change my garbage without gagging. Seeing color with sound would be awesome but in the case of the most recent Grammy Awards it would all have been something akin to feces. I don't want to have to see unnecessary feces. That's like asking to see plumber's crack everywhere you go. Hmmm...I'm rethinking Synesthesia.

To stay in fashion with the incoherence you've just experienced. Cut scene and roll credits to this...well either work really. See you next time.

Idiot’s Guide to unsucking the suck

2009-02-01T12:57:00.000-08:00

In my life I'm realizing what I do couldn't prove to be more useless to the world unless I was a hushpuppy or George Bush…ironically enough which bear a striking resemblance to each other. Oh, maybe I got that mixed up.

I often drift off into a state of denial. It's awesome there. I totally want to be governor of that state. I pretend that I'm hot and have visions of doing karate with monkeys and base jumping off cliffs. It's the fucking greatest state ever. State flower, cauliflower ear. State plant, cannabis. State bird, pterodactyl, state song, Because I'm awesome by the Dollyrots.

The state flag, a pop-art picture of a '68 Camero. In parades we throw out money and condoms. You are able to give hugs to giraffes and penguins here too. It's the best.

Anyway, I mean I just couldn't feel more useless in the world at this particular time. I provide laughs and if you don't suck, sometimes love. I'm not sure that's my fair share. I don't remember saying "when I grow up I want to work in a cubicle with buzzing fluorescent lights whining like a child above my head and wear poly blend business suits. I want the biggest inbox ever and I really want to fuck with spreadsheets. I hope I get to answer stupid questions and endure back pain due to my sitting arrangement. Where do I sign up?" there's no way this is better than a rockstar, astronaut, comedienne, teacher, politician.

Yesterday, I was daydreaming in the line at the grocery store. I caught myself tapping my foot to "living on a prayer" which was playing loudly over the loud speaker. Subconsciously I focused in on a midget. I've never seen a Texas midget. Right around that time I'm slowly breaking out of the daze due to zeroing in on that guy and some asshole kid yells, "did you see that?! It was a midget! He was like this tall!" inidicating with his hand that the midget fellow was shorter than the was. This was simply not true…just around this time I glanced to the left and noted the patron behind me was reading this….yes really... "the idiots guide to getting owning a cat."

A) If you don't know how to get a cat, what DO you know how to do?
B) Cat's take care of themselves asshat so what exactly are you learning?

I've never quite been in a place like that. I swore I was in a parallel universe. Everything was moving slowly and I had a big shit eating grin on my face. That always scares people. Then they start making conjectures about me like "I bet she talks to herself." (which I do) when did it become officially crazy for a person to laugh to themselves anyway? I'm not in hysterics, just smiling fondly. I left wondering if I was dead or in a co-directed movie by David Lynch and Woody Allen.

*sidebar…the bitch in front of me had bad grocery etiquette. I don't understand how fucking hard it is for people in front of you to realize it's their job to put the separator down! It's like a 4 way stop sign…it's not that fucking complicated. I mean I know she was busy purchasing ho-hos and cheetos and southern milk(mountain dew) for her spawn but pay attention.

I've found that after a night of drinking, when I wake up and still have a buzz, naturally I get a 44oz. cherry coke, 22 oz. coffee, starbucks bottled mocha frappacino and like any twin peaks loving individual...a jelly doughnut. I've found that I like to drink a lot. If Saturday, I watch a cartoon where dinosaurs can talk. here are some other things i like

artificially flavored banana things...especially laffy taffy
irish cream by international delights
brushing my teeth in the shower
old bay seasoning on my potatoes
blue jolly ranchers
a glass of water at bedside
eating lunchmeat and slices of provolone for meals
pooping at home(public is not an option and i'm not talking the sidewalk or anything)
buffalo wing sauce on nearly everything
*time out...whatever cartoon, the sushi pack, or whatever it is just had a killer jelly doughnut that squirted it's jelly at them to slay them. all signs are leading me back to twin peaks.* game on
turtles and penguins
technology
the ambidextrious ability i have

since i've shared some of my darkest nuggets of like...here are some things i don't like

stepping in wetness in my socks(this evokes 30 seconds of rage and a stream of swearing)
the smell of garbage
cleaning
when people don't put the separater down on the grocery conveyor belt(this has been mentioned in other blogs)
snail mail
gnats
being really hungry and dropping my food on the floor(again...30 seconds of rage)
people who don't use their directional turn signals
when someone assumes i speak spanish
dropping my eating utinsil(fork, spoon, knife) in the food and then touching it and getting food on my hand
lying

*maybe when i get to know you better i'll share more. that was heavy shit for me.

The other night, i went to the restroom of bw3's. i accidentally stepped on the lady's shoe ahead of me so i apologized to which her companion(who was her daughter) turned around and said "we're just switching shirts." um...ok. she offered that information like i sensed there was something oddball going on and she needed to rattle off something to make the moment less uncomfortable. *time out...i just found out i'm watching kewlopolis. naturally i'm drawn to all things kewl. the talking dinosaurs. they can tell you where to find jesus...and yoga. not yoda...yoga. also i think it's weird that for a kid's program they spell cool like a drug addict raver glow stick kid. what the fuck or in "kewl talk" wtf?* game on...so as i'm in my stall piddling those 2 are in the handistall offering up the olympics of "that's what she said" opportunities. "your hands are cold." "oh this feels great." "i hope it's not too big." things i never thought i'd be hearing in a bathroom of a bar in tx on a friday night. weird. apparently the show is called dino squad. the segment of saturday morning cartoons, which are fucking lame....god all the good ones are on sunday nights these days...

I've found that I really enjoy dum-dums. As of late they've tried to get fancy and become what starbuck's is to dunkin' doughnuts and have flavors like mango and coconut and bubble gum. I prefer the old school. Rootbeer, cherry et al. There's nothing like unwrapping a dum-dum and giving it a good look before sucking it away. It's surface is all retarded like the factory workers put the wrapper .. it was actually hardened leaving imprints of wrinkles. I just find nothing like a good dum-dum. I've just had 2 in 20 minutes. This is becoming somewhat of an addiction like I developed for twin peaks and consequently jelly doughnuts and coffee.(both of which I enjoyed before but is now a product of character obsession) I just decided to try a fancy dum-dum…it's cotton candy flavored. Straight to the trash.

I took a nasty spill. One of my own infliction and lack of grace and as I smelled the skin from my knees burning on the turf, I was kind of in shock but decided it was best to get up and laugh too.

Then I got to thinking, I wonder how much skin and blood is on this field…I mean, how do you wash Astroturf? I fear there may be so much DNA on that field that new life forms will spawn. The sexes and the races will all mix into one spontaneously creating a new species. Like they did in America. Weird. Either way I cannot possibly express with words the pain and suffering that ensued for the next 2 days. I wouldn't wish it on most. I hope my liver regenerates this well one day. Though i have scars, I can always make up cool stories.

Something weird happened recently on more than one account really. One thing is I went to the mall, I haven't been to one in at least a year and was reminded why. Terrible F. As I got on the escalator I glanced down to see santa and the kids waiting in line. I think my heart smiled for a second. It was then I thought to myself…I'm really missing something in my life quickly shifting my thoughts to Role Models which I was going to see.(without my friend Jenn with whom I'd promised to attend) It wasn't until later when I had to return some items at the library everything changed once again. This happened when a little asshole kid went darting between people, objects and electrons yelling out some ridiculous bullshit and began swinging around the flagpole. Immediately I thought great, this kid is going to get caught by his neck in the flagpole rope and I'm going to have to witness a death. I'm going to be scarred because of this kid. This is bullshit I thought. I then decided it best not to turn around and just continue to the car. It was also around this time I caught a wiff of some car exhaust which was for some reason refreshing. That happens with me and the smell of gas sometimes. It was around then that not my heart but my face smiled and I knew everything was right in the world. After all, I had a ham sandwich waiting for me at home with some kettle cooked chips. Fucking a.

I also learned some things last weekend. My Aunt doesn't like to eat with her hands and likes to use the word regalia. Interesting but mostly amazing for a lady who sometimes puts her pants on backwards and finds the rodeo "exhilarating." I don't look as good as the brothas with a hair pick either I learned.

Fat Albert is real. I go to a bar sometimes(but never again...different blog) with my friend Jenn who is awesome x's 10 and watch bands. I'm just saying...case and point.

Some people reaaaaaally like their TV shows or are traveling with massive amounts of narcotics in their cars and trying to create a distraction...

and some jokes will never get old

Please play this track and read the next paragraph...not only are the words describe my life now...except the Julie part..but a little it does. it's my special song for my special Jewely who is the awesomest.

Life is starting to freak me out and all the people in it. I mean, how the times have changed…I didn't know it was customary to get called "jew nose" for turning someone down in a bar. Who steals a jacket at a piano bar? I'm disenchanted I suppose. I guess I'll just keep watching cartoons and learning lessons. you're listening to"Hey Julie" by Fountains of Wayne because you better have clicked on it. Also, be sure to realize they're in a commercial for LL bean flicker..."the snow is falling down on our new england town." valley winter song...off of a great record. Either way I got soul but I'm not a soldier. I'll make it. however, I want you to end scene and roll credits to this one.

Sigh.

Sometimes...you just know. douche nipple.

2009-02-01T12:56:00.000-08:00

I have to start by saying...MADISON JAMES MADISON WE ARE THE DUKES OF JMU!!!!!!!!!! if you are unfamiliar with Harrisonburg...make youself...Obama was just there...even he knows the greatness!

http://rivals.yahoo.com/ncaa/football/teams/jjb

http://www.jmu.edu/

Who's number one...we ARE

SOOOO...anyway. this happened a week ago. none of you will ever understand the apprehension and freaking out i went through with BECAUSE...well...i wrote this one at work. when i got home...it wasn't there. i thought CRAP! the IT spam filter caught it or I sent it to the CEO...i'm had. turns out my box was just too full and it finally went out on Monday, BUT not without me freaking out and going to the office first after hours. Only problem, suddenly my card doesn't work afterhours. Shite. unbelievable. Continue to read and you'll understand.

woo loo loo woo loo loo woo loo loo...last week....

Well, I wasn't going to do this but as I sit here listening to the sounds of a baby someone has brought to the office to show off…I can't help it. Why is it that when people hear those grunts and chortle sounds, everyone is gathered around making rhetorical proclamations like "look at that face!" yeah. Look at it. It's a fucking baby face. What? "Hiiiiiiii Pumpkin, hiiiiii baby" in the type of voice you use when you're imitating a fairy godmother or woody allen. Then I listen to the mother saying "well she's advanced blah blah blah." Naturally I tune out after advanced. Newsflash…your fucking baby is 4 months old. What possibly can she be advanced at? Sitting upright in her shit rather than rolling over in it? Or did she stop eating her own poop already? I'm confused. What she can open her eyes? Good fucking job. I know dogs smarter than that. Well now there's the crying because the mean old lady in the office won't get out of her face…yes, the one I slapped at the xmas party. Ugh. Give the baby some air girls so she'll shut her yap. Goddamn.

I've done about 15 minutes of work today, totally office spacing but I'd rather do this in exact baby silence. I drank too much on a school night last night. It was highly inappropriate but I always seem to suffer at the hands of peer pressure. Peer pressure by fun. See me and fun…we're fucking friends. Me and puking in the sink…not friends. I can't focus on anything except for getting a massage tonight and going to bed. I have 2 hours left. This is terrible.

I'm wondering about things though. Things like what is the purpose of roman numerals anymore? We have real numbers now, why the fuck does anyone continue to use them? I've also noticed that when I'm tired I walk differently. My feet go out to the side like a duck and I push off with the inside of my big toe like I'm climbing up a hill. Weird. Time out. I need to go get some chips. Well those were delicious. Now back to my time letting my mind wonder like a four year old.

See...this is where it left off before I thought I emailed the CEO. Welcome to my first blog with no pictures and sound bytes. I took me a week STILL to get the balls to post this because i know now I'm in no trouble. In your head imagine this line "how do i know when it's love?" by van halen. end scene.

Well. I'm off to adopt a black child.

KDIZ

Caution...herpes, ginger kids and self defeat ahead. On a serious Tip

2009-02-01T12:54:00.000-08:00

So, I've been doing a lot more "single" things lately like eating out alone rather than ordering in. This way I can still get "all you can eat." Single things also include not often wearing clothes in the house(careful for splatter while cooking), losing the kitchen counter beneath beer cans and fast food bags in less than a weekend, the reliability that your laptop will always be right next to you in the morning and like Liz Lemon…fearing death by choking on a tv dinner with little chance of being found for days.

Tonight…case and point. I got a mailer for a Sushi/beer happy hour. I left work and hauled ass to make it in time. I walked in, looked around and realized….no place called "Oriental Lite" is a place where I should eat sushi. This said, I got a beer and ordered a couple of pieces to try. It wasn't too bad but I needed a better scene. SO here I go to Genki Sushi which not only has a conveyor belt that brings sushi right in front of you but has that awesome reminder view of bally's total fitness.

The conveyor belt gets dangerous. Grabbing things as they go by and more than one because you don't want the good shit to get away. I almost actually stood up and jumped to grab some Red Snapper from the inner loop(yeah, like the beltway. If you don't know what that is…it's as dumb as TX) after I realized it had passed.

As the single guy who was dining alone when I arrived was leaving, a new single girl was coming in. not the kind you really have a lot of room to wonder why. You know, the kind that wears a gold initial necklace of their first name in cursive?

I already know what her house looks like. Fake floral arrangements, ugly throw rugs and patterned furniture like your parents would buy. She has never masturbated ever. She belongs to groups with the word "Sisterhood" in the title and her mother is her best friend. For fun, she helps people at work. Mid to late thirties, unavoidable double chin and a stomach churning fear I'm headed in this direction.

The single guy who left…lazy. Not a drinker, way too into sports with his friends and completely scared of girls. He definitely masturbates. He's also a ginger kid. This is one of the most unappealing qualities out there. I'm not sure what his house is like but the thought of having children with him is extremely unappealing. Even by accident. I'm not sure that accident would ever happen though, he seems careful. Like the guy who drives a Hyundai because his mother tells him it's the safest and his dad gets him with the economic practicality of a methmobile. I call it a methmobile because once when MY mother tried to convince me to get a Hyundai, in addition to the above reasons, she also tried "Hyundais are the top selling cars now, they even outsell Toyotas now." I replied, "Well, meth is the top selling drug and made in a bathtub too but that doesn't mean I'm going to buy it."

Now, I don't know what it is with the gingers lately but I got attacked by an old ginger man the other night. I decided to play a few games of NTN buzztime and this guy a seat away kept making conversation. This was fine until he moved over a chair and was way too close and entering my back the fuck up zone. He then actually picked up my phone and opened it and asked "any good pictures?" no I said, as I looked at him in horror. As I turn to look at the screen he says "NOW YOU DO! Ahahahaha" and I get this…

I mean really…are you fucking kidding me?? Needless to say I left. Amazingly I did so without threatening violence, insulting his mother or kicking him in the titty. I think it was that…"wow. Really? Is this all I get" feeling? I think I actually came close to curling into a ball and thinking "holy jesus and buttermilk biscuits…maybe those fucking nuns had it right. maybe I should have paid attention to that finding of the god" and running out to the store and getting this…

"The Idiots Guide To The Last Days"

Play this and read the next paragraph while listening

I was driving home and contemplating when that new shitty Killers song came on but it got me with "cut the cord." As I'm realizing I need to do so with all of my inhibitions I've seemed to re-develop, I was realizing how boring I've become. An allusion of an illusion of my delusion. Or an illusion of allusion….it all works really. I guess I just have to realize is that none of it matters once you cut the cord. Not where you are, what you do, who you wake up with or what you ate for lunch. Now…the herpes…that might get you but thanfully i'm a herpe resistant ninja. Looking back to the past for moments of clarity is pointless. If the past were meant to be, it would be the present. I need to realize that I know when I'll get there. If it happens to be somewhere I've been before, I guess I just wasn't supposed to be there the first time. For that slight moment where I felt pity for my plight reality slapped me. I do not wear a gold cursive "K" necklace. Things are going to be juuuuuuust fine. Plus, I definitely masturbate. Roll credits and allow "Handlebars" by Flobots continue to play.

Insomniatic Bloatation Device and Stupid Nuns

2009-02-01T12:53:00.000-08:00

Fucking really? I went to bed at 10PM yet here I lie after a slew of activities such as watching episodes of Alf from Season 1 and 2, reading the news of every country east of China and west of China, facebooking, myspaceing, ingesting things, perezhiltoning....yes, here I lie awake

I've been thinking of things like what if I have lupis or a bloodclot? If someone breaks into my apartment right now...do i have enough time to grab my 9 iron (to the left of my bed) and blugeon them? Wonder if i'll ever get in a scooter accident should I wear my helmet to possibly avoid further retardation. Also, I could have sworn we just had a hurricane...

so how come the sprinklers keep coming on every 30 minutes. Why didn't the doctor just listen to me when i went for swelling of my ankle and he made me take a pregnancy test? that is a resource wasted that could have been utilized for 17 year old girls in alaska or 14 year old girls in tx.

Regardless, i lay here as hurricane Flo makes landfall, bloating me and crushing my insides, wondering about shit like what I would look like if I was skinny and how early is too early too go into work? I would get up and watch a movie but i'm kind of nervous in my delicate state after watching steel magnolias yesterday and having a complete meltdown. I'm mad I didn't get to watch my football team play due to....

is it going to rain tomorrow or can I ride the scooter? Will i ever get married and have kids that I'll smack the shit out of? Wonder what DT is doing? Wonder if Jewely is up? I've bought all new furniture in my head and rearranged it.

Now there's some sort of owl or something that sounds to me like I should call it a wipperwill. i don't know what that is but it sounds about right. I'm to the point where I'm rubbing the boogers out of my eyes because I've been up so long. I get up now in then to look out the window to see if some douche ass has knocked over my scooter tonight. (as last night)

i've been trying to figure out if i could be mayor of a small town for a few years and end up on a vp ticket. i read a story about a priest in venice who got caught in bed with a parishner's wife. it made me think about what it might be like to try and be a nun. all of that no cussing, and drinking and smoking or doing it. somebody must really convice those broads that god is really worth it. i don't get it. i think that when nuns die they get really pissed when there's no heaven just a big sign that says "HA, you wasted your life! you didn't get to do anything fun. we tricked you! sheep! how did you think it was a good idea to devote your life to something based on a group of men ranked in importance by the size of their hats?? you dult." then they can't warn their nun friends because they're not angels. no heaven=no angel...just "you're dead."

5AM-- i think i have to move my bed as my highly sensitive hearing is picking up an extremely low hum coming from somewhere in this building that makes it sound like i'm on acid. this is definitely going to pose a problem. shit it's making my back hurt thinking about it.

oh fuck. it seems i should do something like work out except that i'm scared of the lupis and the bloodclots. i hope you're all sleeping or drinking. i guess i'll sign off now. until next time my chitlins...end scene and roll credits to "Stars" by Hum Stars (link to the left is a refresher) guess i've missed the train to mars so i'll be out back counting stars.

Vote DeFranco 2008

-holy shit...the neighbor upstairs has the most annoying alarm

One cockroach tuxedo and a helmet please...

2009-02-01T12:47:00.000-08:00

Good morning my little ninjas! Speak into my good eye!

As I write this to you I have half of an "Angelina Jolie" lip. I've had an allergic reaction today and I'noticed something now that both sides of my upper lip are swollen…it's kinda hot. I never got the injecting your lips full of ass fat and other substances to make them plump but now I kind of see it. NOW! If my bottom lip was swollen too, I'd definitely say hot. Unfortunately I just look like a character from "The Simpsons" or this bitch from the Muppets.

Now I hope this Milwaukee's Best Light and another gold from Michael Phelps will make this shit go away.

Though absent in blogography, I've been thinking of you and collecting nuggets of surreal Texified life happenings that sometimes reek of normalcy. My head made of genius is so overflowing with thoughts to share that sometimes I can't tell if I'm wearing a hat or not. Then again, I'm surrounded by people who ask me things like "you ever had beaver milk?"

I guess I'll share a little incident that happened today. I received a text message from a 310 (LA for those less traveled) number that said "HI BABY, YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!!!" so I responded "?" They then were kind enough to send a message back that said "Hi stranger. Sorry, wrong text!" Naturally, I responded with "No worries. What are you wearing?" Believe it or not, I got nothing. Is that any way to treat some stranger who's personal danger zone you just bombarded by calling me baby and telling me I'm almost there? Dick. Or bitch. Not only that but if you're calling me "BABY" shouldn't you know know my phone number? I'm just sayin'. I use nunchucks!

I mean like these!

Just for those of you who don't understand the extent of my ninjahood, I won't lie. The outfit came with pictorial instructions. If they didn't there's absolutely zero chance I'd be able to figure it out. Apparently, getting dressed used to be an ancient secret. It seems that lots o' people still need help.

No Words

The underwear couple. This shit goes inside the clothes guys. Inside.

Redneck belting.

I had an idea today on how to survive a nuclear (GW Bush, if you're reading this, it's pronounced New-klee-er) war. I'll wear a suit made of cockroaches. This will include a helmet with the window made of bullet-proof glass and the rest…you got it made of cockroaches. Why didn't everyone think of this? If they are the only things that can survive a nuclear holocaust, well, mother of pearl then! It's like the blackbox theory. Seems simple right. Genius.

You see that below…that's the shit storm. Here we go…

Please read this sectional rant while humming "Click, Click, Boom" by Saliva.

Calling all megatards who put magnetic bullet holes on your car. I want to take all of you people and shoot you. Shoot you with magnetic bullet holes at a constant rate for a week straight. Let's see how tough you are then. Is that why you put these on your car? Because you a bad ass muthafucka? I'll show you badass motherfucker. Bitch. Take your fucking baby on board, fake baseball through the car window, rubber human hand replica hanging out of the truck ass and bring it! You wanna know why? ASSHOLE on board here! That's why. Don't let me run into you in a dark alley. I will take your helmet off and whoop you with it.

Speaking of helmet, this guy is a nominee for the Golden Helmet award.

You know what? I found this curious too. Apparently here's how they inform the public of a sex offender here in TX I guess…

Helmet. That reminds me We should abolish the welfare system and implement a new government program. The Helmet Assistance Program. There truly are so many struggling Americans that I believe could benefit greatly from a helmet. The 18 year old, with 3 kids, who is in and out of jail but is "trying hard" to be right by getting a job selling hotdogs outside of titty bars and at the zoo. The federal judge who sues a dry cleaner for 65 million dollars for a lost pair of pants. Not only people who see Jesus or Mary on an inanimate object such as a muffin or dogshit but people who sell it on Ebay and more importantly the people who buy it. Douche nozzles who dress up like The Joker and try to rob the local cinema of "The Dark Night" movie posters. Illegal immigrants…NO HELMETS FOR YOU! At the end of the day, I think the benefits are far more sweeping than just a program to help those less fortunate or those who don't want to work.

AND YOU! NO HELMET FOR YOU!

you are not handicapped, YOU ARE FUCKING FAT! Lay off the fried squirrel and testicles! I've also never lived anyplace where things got risqué at the Wal-Mart

I mean…how does that happen? First I thought, oh my god, someone must have been kidnapped and pulled right out of their shoe as they were being shoved in the car. I just don't see someone going to Wal-Mart and getting home and realizing "Shit! Where's my shoe??!!" I guess someone was doing it and I would suspect got interrupted and left in a haste leaving the 1984 hooker shoe for the fine Christian community of Euless to gawk at.

Now, once in a while I do catch a fleeting wind of faith that there are still awesome people in the world. Yes, this is real; not from the internet. I pulled the car over to get this shot.

Well my car Lafawnduh(if you aren't familiar please vist blog entry Escape to Lost Angeles Part Uno) hit a milestone.

We celebrated with Chinese food and a beer with this guy. Yes Buttafuoco.

Oh and this guy…look closely yep. It was like taking beer from a baby. Didn't even notice his Miller Lite was gone…

So, of course, with the parting of one motor vehicle comes the birth of another. Meet Andre The Bitch Crusher.

As much as I know you want to believe I'm turning Texan, the above statement is a lie. I actually bought this!

Though yet to be named, that's my big boy! I bought it from my friend Erik, who is awesome all the time, and can kick your ass mixed martial arts style. He told me he got a motorcycle but it's really a crotch rocket (pffft) so I took the silver slayer off his hands. It hits 50 down a hill. That's enough to scare border crossers. That and Jeffrey the Jedi Squirrel who guards my cubicle.

Back to Erik…he lives in a house with a couple guys. I used their bathroom only once but please note the fancy doors under the vanity. Time saver. No need to actually "open" the doors.

Erik has also been taking Stefan the dinosaur on his travels. You don't know Stefan yet but you will and you will all be his friend on myspace. Stefan's first trip was to Chicago then Erik took him deep sea fishing in the gulf- see below.

Now that the chorus of "Barracuda" is playing in your head, stand-up and air guitar……………………………………………………………………………………..
you may now be seated.

**Sidebar- I'm currently feeding my addiction to The Olympics
Huh, looks like Kitajima just earned the title of "The Best Breast-Stroker of All-Time." (according to the announcer) I might have to dispute that claim. I've met some good ones in my day. Moving on…

Play this now and listen while continuing to read…

However society came to be a place where the underwear hanging out of the pants writing on your car window is ok, I'll never know. I think if the founding fathers were alive today they would work a helmet amendment into the constitution. I know I don't work formally as a politician but what do you say, let's shake things up. DeFranco 2008- "When meaning you mean it has a meaning."That's a great slogan. «---- PS...click the previous link for your exclusive gear...
We've never had an Italian president. I could also do what the TV says below…

When dinosaurs ruled the earth, there was no putting on of the magnetic bullets and hooker shoes and hotdogs. What have we become? Maybe we do need a renewal, nuclear holocaust…whatever. Just be sure to wear you suit made of cockroach and until next time…take care of yourself, and each other.

*DeFranco 2008* www.cafepress.com/defranco2008

Fasten your seatbelt, slutpuppy, this ain’t gonna be no cakewalk!- Sophia Petrillo

2009-02-01T12:45:00.000-08:00

A lot of you knew this was coming I'm sure. My hearty tribute to one of the funniest character actresses in sitcom television of all time. Yep, Estelle Getty AKA Sophia Petrillo.

I enjoyed the Golden Girls, who I didn't realize were dirty old bitches until I was grown, as a child, BUT it helped get me through college. Thanks to Lifetime showing them 4 times a day, my roommates and I fermented a huge soft spot in the bowels of the cockles of our beer filled hearts for The Golden Girls. Marijuana + The Golden Girls = delicious hilarity

More importantly the characters. We all likened ourselves to a character in the show as there were 4 of us. Lisa was Rose. She drank the water out of tuna cans and once asked us which one was a "chex" when we were eating chex mix. Beth was Blanche. She was sexually blatant and definitely not quiet. Well then there's me who I'd say Sophia most and Jessie who unfortunately in my book got pegged as Dorothy just because she was the tallest. No other similarities.

I feel you're getting an understanding for my love of the show and the fact that most of my friends, not including the ones I've named above, do as well. Nobody made me laugh harder than Sophia. She always had her pocketbook on her arm. Even in bed. She scuttled and she was a real wise ass. Her stories, references and adjectives were side splitting. Plus, she was a good Italian with NYC charm. Sophia would slay you like a bunny with her sharp tongue, especially Blanche. Classic.

Of course, her classic "Picture it…Sicily, 19??…." stories were jocular slices to the jugular.

I still almost pee my pants watching the episode where her and Dorothy enter the Mother/Daughter talent show at Shady Pines. I know Jessie and I always loved this one

There are so many quotes I could rattle off but I'd be here all night with a tear in my beer. Feel free to share yours.

She struggled as a stage actress for 40 years until landing her role on the Golden Girls. That's love. She reminded me of my own Grandma. An Italian hard hitter who also frequently used the insult botchagaloop. (sorry about the pot thing Grandma) Well, I never did get a chance to say goodbye to her so goodbye Estelle. Thank you for being a friend.

July 25, 1923- July 22, 2008

Ode to YER MOM and M8KNOYS

2009-02-01T12:44:00.000-08:00

The unthinkable (I always thought anyway) has happened. For 8 years (this past May), she was by my side, my losses, my wins, my journeys and kept me good company, my troubles and things I don't even remember. That's right, the car most recently known as yer mom.

I always thought and boastfully shared "I'll be buried in that bitch." In case you…yeah you, still have no idea what I'm talking about…I'm speaking of my 1995 Jeep Wrangler. She's gone.

Here's apparently what a picture of my soul looks like these days.

After the new owner, who seems of nice sorts along with his pregnant wife, drove away, I ran inside and had a meltdown. The kind a kid has when they don't get the toy they yearned for in the happy meal. As it continued uncontrollably my inner monologue was ripping me a new asshole and taunting me ridiculously saying "are you fucking kidding me you retarded loser, it's a goddamn car. Pull it together for crying out loud." Although I was mourning I also was realizing that I was embarrassed and I live alone. I'm glad I could share that with you. My real top 2 embarrassing moments involve a toilet in a Richmond, VA salon and the other a Summer college class at NOVA and busting ass. Now, back to the buyers…you're probably thinking what I am….Wrangler…perfect baby car.

Many of you have had the pleasure whether she was M8KNOYS in VA, the standard in CA or the YER MOM of TX. From Maine to Tennessee and CA to TX, from Tim Burgess of The Charlatans UK to "clipping" the ambulance on the Sunset Strip after the Xmas party…Jada(her real name)/M8KNOYS/YER MOM served me well and never left me stranded. Only once, shortly after I got her, I lost her after the Kiss concert but it wasn't her fault. I found her and fucked off through some ditches to avoid waiting in traffic out of Nissan Pavilion. Not the best way to avoid attention of Virginia's finest ham but, thanks to a few thousand other cars we were on our way to 7-Eleven for the traditional post concert hotdog, Super Big Gulp and slim jim.

I felt a few words were necessary as she was part of you all too. Let's raise a glass…Tullamore Dew for me please. Cheers, mama love you boo!

Please imagine the following is a slide show and during the montage a medly of "Time of My Life" by Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes from the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack and "I Will Always Love You," not the crackhead version by Whitney, but the original by Dolly Parton is playing. Sigh.....Please feel free to share any stories...sigh

Keeping it real

Never took my VA stickers off...rocked the expired '02 Loudoun seal. Roots.

Hollywood...street parking sucks

Fun fact...I got a flat and that's the spare on the back left...yes the spare that has the nail in it from Vegas...2 years ago. I'm very responsible.

Tastes like raccoon and fireworks

2009-02-01T12:40:00.000-08:00

I've been working on this blog since October so it may just be a pile of random shit that you can find a piece of corn in or something. I'll do better next time. Let's take the edge off by starting with this

you're welcome because now I have some questions. Don't worry I won't burden you with my vane insatiable pilgrimage for the meaning of life.

Why is the grocery store, here in Euless TX, selling fireworks right now? Also, it's 39 feels like 33 degrees yet the ice cream truck, which was blaring happy birthday, just drove around the neighborhood. I really don't know about these suckas in the south. Usually fireworks and ice cream trucks all point to July. I'm just sayin'. Moving on…

Please let me begin by saying when loading your groceries onto the conveyor at your local grocery store…YOU are the one who's supposed to put the fucking plastic divider down for the person in line behind you. Got it? What the fuck? A little etiquitte would be nice Tex. ALSO, if you are not standing in the lane and are at least 5 feet out of it and there is nobody else occupying that lane…you are NOT in line. Asshole. Lastly, pay attention bitch. Put all of my shit in the bag, I really wanted that piece of cheesecake. You have one job, ring the shit and put it in the goddamn bag. Is it that hard? Just checking. Clearly, I'm over it.

My inner Kimland silence has just been broken by the ridiculous clatter of yet another human being with a highly questionable purpose. She said, "OK, so at 7 o'clock you have to call this number, don't worry it's free!" Though I doubt she has voted since her younger years of voting for Pee Wee Herman as a write in, her cacaphonous din of pleas to all of our fellow co-workers to vote on "dancing with the stars" really made me think.

Is Drew Lachey really a star? Is Heather Mills really a star? Joey McCintyre? Leeza Gibbons? If this is the case, our societal sense of celebrity is really slipping. Seriously, that shit is boring. If we're going to have "Dancing with the stars," let's start with some stars and really make killer combos. I mean Heather mills has one leg. They should have paired her with Kevin Spacey's character on Usual Suspects with the limp OR, even though his "celebrity" merely matches all of the aforementioned people, Josh Blue, the guy with the arm braces (like Timmy has on South Park) who won last comic standing. And why did he win "last coming standing?" We know why! because he's handicapped that's why! You know when you saw that guy the same heart strings got pulled that do when you see a retarded person trying to eat a popsicle. Don't lie.

More good match ups for the show…You want star power and chemistry! Yao Ming/Dolly Parton, Perez Hilton/Ann Coulter, Britney Spears/Brian Wilson, Michael Jackson/Jessie Jackson….are you feeling me people? I can't talk about this shit anymore. I've only seen a few minutes of one show and that song will remain the same.

Also today, there was again another moment where I felt I was staring directly into a Panavision camera in an episode of the office. I needed to have a conversation with someone who has the personality of Michael on the office. The thing is, Michael is awesome x's ten compared to this guy. I mean like Miles Davis.

It should have been 5 minutes and turned into 15. I looked like this the whole time.

This man still talks about his daughter, whom he calls princess, as if she were a newborn. She's 17. When Ohio St. played Michigan on 10/20 she helped him paint his office window with Ohio St. cheer. He erased the message after the game except for this part. Blaring out into the office, with no shame.*On 12/28 it was all erased except for his daughters name. Apparently he is also a closet eater…have you heard of this?? He won't eat in front of people, he hides in closets or other dark spaces and stuffs his face then comes out. I can't even touch this one. I don't have the time or should I say you, my lovely readers, don't.

Work is going great, who knew I could be this into the forklift and forklift accessories industry. Look at me now though….what have I become? No office decorated with signed memorabilia littered with art and cd's…now spreadsheets and calculators and dork ass professional attire. I feel so dirty.

Moving on. I was awaken the other morning by the man living in my attic. I have been convinced of this man for some time. I watch a lot of "forensic files" etc. and I know all about a stalker. I'm not exactly sure who would stalk me. I mean, I am known for over tipping but other than that I got nothing. I told Amanda (who I passed on the way to work this morning)

about this months ago and she ignored it. Probably because she also thinks I'm a hypochondriac. (it's gonna be a BIG "in your face" for me when I have a case of the cancer)

Well, 2 nights ago at 4AM I woke up to that motherfucker crawling around my ceiling. I then strode through my house in the nude with my Chinese walking stick I got from the dollar store. Sure, it might break if you smack someone with it but I'm sure it can do some Serious damage to the eyes. The eyes ARE the groin of the face afterall. Anyway, I told my friend Jill at work (who I affectionately call Jillbilly and who also had me over on Thanksgiving for my first redneck Thansgiving!) and she said, it's probably a squirrel or a raccoon. I scoffed at the idea. Squirrel is for eatin' and how the hell would the raccoon get in the ceiling. (see I said that with twang)

Now, Jillbilly refers to twang as lemon that hits that spot in the back of your jaw. I always understood it as another word for country however, I found this! Pickles bitch. Pickles.

I was outside about an hour ago…on the phone with Amanda

when I noticed a cat scaling down the tree. Mind you, I live on the third floor...that shit was climbing from heaven! A cat. Until he looked at me and he was wearing a burglar's mask like the kind you see on the Cookie Crook.

He slinked down the tree and my neighbor started pouring beer off of his balcony at him. Great idea. A drunk raccoon ready to scratch my fucking face off. Now I am ascared I will have nightmares of this thing and coming home and he's smoking a cigar then he scratches my face off and says in raccoon "I've been waiting for you! Muuuaahahahahahaha!" I'm doomed.

Tonight was a very special night for me too in another way. A "Charlie Brown Christmas" was on. I've always adored this. I'm not a Christmas fan, especially the music. The only Christmas music I CAN stomach is the CB Christmas album by vince guaraldi and that chrismas song by the waitresses. Here's a clip
Song

OH, and my very own, "another Christmas I could miss." (I know that's kind of cheating) You can check it here
A Christmas I Could Miss

From the very opening lines it gripped my little black grinch heart made of demon with "I just don't understand Christmas I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed." Marinate in that. Breathe it in. Charlie Brown.

So I went to the doctor again last week for one of my knees. In a sheer stroke of superpower, I catapulted out of control in my fancy rolling deskchair and into the edge of my desk with a direct hit to the patella. I happened to have Ronnie (who willingly and lovingly wears these dirty pants to work)

in my cube at the time chatting. The pain was overwhelming, I was laughing funny bone style but kind of started to cry too and when EVVVVVEntually asked if I was ok, my answer was "no." No with a smile. Little history…Kim+Soccer/Basketball= bad knees. Anyway, this happened 3 weeks ago, not getting better. I don't know if this is due to getting older or my expedient weight gain.

Gaffney, pictured below in the pink, called me a bit ago to let me know that she had gone to the doctor and turns out she, years ago, listed me as her emergency contact. Though flattered I thought, well…now I live 1500 miles away. When I didn't, if there was an accident, they would have tried to call me and the gurney next to her would have started ringing. Way to go Lauren, your parents live 30 minutes from you.

In the spirit of sisterhood I decided to return the favor. See below, my designation of emergency notification now goes to….drum roll please! Lauren Gaffney. Congrats. We made it through a night at the Grammy's together but Quentin Tarantino can't even help us now.

I recently got food poisoning for the first time…for real. I mean sure, I've used it several times to get out of work but holy shit. It's the worst. I will never eat little caesar's $5 hot and ready's again and ESPECIALLY no buttery garlic dipping sauce. Dear diabetes! I thought I was going to die. It made me rethink that I live alone and how do I give myself the heimlick when I'm choking on vomit?

My good friend Troy Wilson made a trip all the way from little LA to give me a visit in October. What fun! A couple of the things we ended up doing were going to the Stars game and watching the Cowboys play the Vikings!(where the clan made a definite presence)

As you can see, the clan was also in full swing during the halftime show. I want to say it was uncomfortable but the people around us made us feel right at home here in TX. NOW, the hockey game…need I say more….Dallas? the one disappointment here was JR Ewing driving a crocs zamboni! Booooooooooo! If you don't know my stance on crocs please see the opening of my last blog. Thank you.

Through the time that's passed recently I have learned a few things. Fireworks and ice cream make a delicious winter combination here in ol' Texas and I will be the next ninja warrior. I am not interesting enough to be stalked by anything other than a hungry animal and some things never change, I really am Charlie Brown. End scene and roll "Soul Glow" from the movie "Coming to America." Love, Kim

Shit from shinola and stuff

2009-02-01T12:34:00.000-08:00

I'm sure you've all heard the news of people wearing those shoes Crocs getting caught in an elevator. Honestly though, anyone who wears crocks deserves to get caught in an elevator.

An open letter to ugly shoes
by,
Kim DeFranco

Dear Crocks,

Next to Birkenstocks no shoe wants to make me vomit, simply by looking at you, more than YOU! You are an imperialist ambassador to ugly. I can't for the life of me in this world figure out why anybody would pay hard earned money to slip their fashionably abused feet into the easy slip on soul of your holey Vamp. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ShoesParts_of_a_shoe

As an American I am insulted that you were invented in my country as clearly you are more representative to a far more mollycoddle country like France or Switzerland. You have brought absolute gayity to full families who strut them in public with pride but believe they're all unique because they are wearing different colors. You hail from what I would once consider a beautiful place but is now filled with ugly and hippies.

You should be charged with crimes off terror with your one strap ease and breathable style. What makes you think I want to smell people's feet wafting towards my nose this easily!? When I see grown men wearing crocks it verifies that I have less of a chance of ever falling in love again.

The smart ones here??? The elevators! For they have started a revolution that I will join! We will squash you!

By the way of the sword,

Kim

-

To join the revolution click here! (ok, I lied; not yet)

Now my job, I love it. I work 8-5 for a company that does integrated handling solutions and design. In short, they sell forklifts and forklift accessories. They also have a team of engineers that designs how warehouses should be set up then they build it too. It's awesome. Everyday is like an episode of the office. Most of my furious note collecting starts here.

Character 1 (a manager of the rental dept.) he's in his 50's but thinks that the young girls like him. He has the smallest finger nails(which we call niblets) because he chews them incessantly and saves and resuses whattaburger cups. He only eats whattaburger and occasionanally mcdonalds.

Character 2 (rental supervisor) she's all kinds of country with a super thick accent that often causes confusion, she eats squirrel and often uses phrases like "if he can't speak English he probably can't read it either!" or "just another day in paradise." If it weren't for sitting close to her and being able to hear her interactions, I might go insane. This woman tells some of the best stories I've ever heard. These include her family reunion, the fact she calls her cousin Harold, Harod(hayrod) because he once carved his name in a tree and forgot the "L" and how her lawyer, during her divorce, went to jail for drugs, burglary and other things and will be out in 2008. Here is his prison personal ad. Not only is that hot but I can be entertained for hours by this site. http://www.thepamperedprisoner.com/ts.htm

Character 3 (marketing director and one of my bosses) you have no idea how thrilled I am in this lifetime to have a boss with the last name Craghead. It's amazing. You will never spot him without a monster energy drink in his hand and throwing out sayings such as "this ain't his first rodeo" or "it's like a monkey fucking a football." (the later of course to describe what some of you would call a bumblefuck, a shit show, a fuck all or perhaps a mess) they all count. When he says most things he then explains them to me. I think he thinks I'm 20 or something. He thinks he's really hot, never wears a wedding ring even though he's married and talks about his daughter but never his wife. He like most, when wanting to verbally address me, will bark out "DeFranco!"

Character 4 (director of customer development)- mellow, lover of the music. Easy. Sometimes we waste hours looking at what shows are coming to town, recanting show stories and listening to the ipod.

Characters- 5-17 (salesmen)- most have never left Texas, they still wear their college class rings no matter how long they've graduated for now (big ass ones with a star or state of tx b/c there is nowhere else) and they eat bar food and compliment the youngest girl in the office's outfits everyday.

Characters ?-? (technicians)- they are crass and like beer. We get along.
I could go on and on but let me just get on with it…this cast also includes but is not limited to the old lady who recants her days of "smoking grass" and driving stick shift and frequently loudly proclaims "holy shit!", the ultimate fighter guy (no joke, he will kill you), the ultra girly lady who is always pooping or farting in the bathroom and the old guy who I almost ran over once who introduced me to himself by boasting new arch supports.

Anyway, everyone who works here loves it and most people have been here for several, several years. I like it a lot. Some of my favorite office quotes(we are in a cubicle farm and if you don't overhear people, usually they just yell blindly to communicate with others in the office) include:

"oh lorh"

"have you ever had beaver milk??"

"I'm trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat and his butt's stuck"

"I'm so dyslexic I should be shot."

"yeah, dallas is 4 minutes ahead of Houston because we roll like that!"

"fixin' to" and "rot"—this is how they say "right"

"man that guy is an ass-whip!"

Now dating. In addition to my now homeless, homosexual former suitor I found another good one. My friend Allison and I wend to Duke's Roadhouse for a good time. Lot's of harley's and loud rock n' roll. It works. A chatting we a were and this guy approaches me and asks if there are any live music venues around which as you can lead sparks into a cool conversation. He leaves the convo by saying, "me and my friend are sitting over here if you guys want to join us."

Allison's engaged ass pressures me to go over there as apparently she is dying for me so suffer through an engagement too. Well, he was cute so eventually we went over and joined them. they were from about 4 hours away and were in town on business. If anything I felt cool saying "I know a sideways driller."
The night goes on, we have a great conversation and a blast and he picks up our tab. He and his friend walk us to the car where he gives us cards and says "we're in town until Wednesday if you want to do something." (this was Sunday night/Monday morning) a little over a week had passed and Allison asked if I called "no I said, he lives in midland) finally she convinced me to e-mail him. I did. No response until a few days later. Nothing like waking up Saturday morning to an e-mail from HIS WIFE!

*before you ask any dumbass questions I'll clear them up. NO, he was not wearing a wedding ring, NO, he did not even at all mention he was in a relationship and surely didn't mention a wife.

"Hi, I noticed you e-mailed my husband a couple of days ago and you met at a place called Duke's Roadhouse. I just wanted to see if my husband was acting like a husband." I responded "yes, your husband and his friend were perfect gentlemen. We talked about music and had a good time. You have nothing to worry about." (I am NOT getting involved in people's retarded lives) her response back went something like "thank you for letting me know. We've had major problems with him in the past not wearing his ring if you know what I mean."

*****ding ding bitch! Also, next time ask you're fucking husband why some random girl is emailing him.

Anyway, I made an art piece out of his business card. Please see below.
End scene and roll credits to JT's "what goes around."

I've been soul searching lately and made a list of things I hate…these things include

Most people

Running out of tp or papertowels

Wearing Underwear

Going to the mall

The umbrella song(stick it up your ass ELLA!)

Terrible spellers

"if you don't send to *enter number here* people" emails
Microsoft systems

Having to poop in public

Wearing heels almost daily and dressing up

Not having a washer/dryer in my home yet

The food at bennigan's

Christmas

Planning to see my family

Adults who do not control their children and their children

*This moment was brought to you in realtime

I know I have passed on work, but being as I'm working on this right now…the president of the company happened to come into my newly decorated cube. My decorations consist of the critiqued children's artwork from the following maddux link. "who wrote these commentaries?" he said, oh they came that way on the email I said. "holy shit I almost had a seizure…ding dong, here comes the shit mobile? HE SAID! What the hell is that?" this classic moment was brought to you by the letter Kim. He then scheduled a meeting with myself and the CEO. I'm good.

NOW…what he was referring to is Maddux's "I am better than your kids." If you are not familiar with this shame on you and welcome to the wonderful world of Maddux. This piece may be one of the single most funny things I could possibly ever see before I die.

I Am Better Than Your Kids

I called today to try and see how much a church costs. The original St. Francis Desales I attended as a child is for sale in the middle of town. What better a spot for a bar?! We could call it St. Kim Desales or Confessions or the pill or our fathers or…can't tell this next actually…or you'll try and beat me to the punch. This is my new dream. Dreams are places for your soul to die. For this reason alone what better than a former house of guilt. Catholicism rules!

I'm currently sitting on a small American airlines plane on the way back from my friend Doo Doo's(who now teaches at my old high school) wedding. She is my oldest friend. We have known each other through good and bad and good again. From the beginning we have pretty much been pioneers. We started in kindergarten making potions that could do things such as make you fly. These potions consisted of grooming and cleaning products mainly. We also mainly tried to test them on her bitchy older sister who wouldn't ever drink them. We moved on from black magic to making rivers by use of digging and her parent's garden hose. The reason we had to create this river was due to the sheer luck and historical finding we had encountered previous to the construction. We found a "half dug out Indian canoe." This is the exact name we came up for what was really a mostly rotted fallen tree. We were definitely going to finish carving this canoe and take it down the Hamilton river though. That's for damn sure. Here's third grade…

The wedding was fun. Pretty. Mellow. Fall. Dry.

My date Danny and I met sure to make the best out of that last part with him getting plenty of lemonade refills and me getting the right part per total with the vodka. There were also trips to the car for beer chugging. This was also the first wedding I've been to where the food was pulled out with a john deere tractor and there were port-o-potties for the guests. Yes. That's what I said.

We also talked to my 9th grade English teacher who really wouldn't shut the fuck up. Danny's dumb polite ass helped drag on that conversation. I guess not as many people hate me as I thought did after all, I never can tell. It's easiest to pretend I'm hated by the world. That way if I encounter kindness, it makes me feel better. Regardless, it was fun and I'm sure at some point I made an ass of myself but I just really don't fucking care to be quite honest with you. I've got better things to be self conscious about like my cupcake or if anyone on this plane is going to know that was me that farted.

This trip brought a multitude of goodness and the usual depression I suffer when I go home. I was reunited with my drummer from Arnica(the first band we ever had who's name was found by literally going through the good book---yes, the dictionary), Bill. This was amazing. I wish so much I lived closer to him to share art and make fun of fat people and ugly shoes. He and Jonathan and Cami were so fun. Fun like firecrackers and jewish holidays.

My dad also rifled off his usual mixed up adages. My sister and I were laughing at him at dinner to which he promptly responded "HEY! Quit disking me!" as we laughed harder he corrected himself with "I mean dishing me!" Classic. He also inquired about the song on the radio saying "that was
Hungarian Rhapsody right?" need I say more? Awesome.

Read this next paragraph while listening to "Fallin'" by Teenage Fanclub and De La Soul

To sum the rest of it up…my sister gave me a "trim" now my hair is above my shoulders. I have mom hair. We all argued about xmas and my future so here I sit feeling like there is a truck parked on my chest. Goddamn I get bothered when I go home. Without the sauce I'd never make it through. I also never truly realized how much my mother's driving makes me physically ill. She's terrible. I almost threw up several times. It's kind of like riding with a tourette's stricken little person who has restless leg syndrome.

In conclusion, I have endured another wedding, another trip home and another haircut like the one I had in 7th grade. I need some coffee and muscle relaxers….oh! maybe some chocolate milk. That always makes me feel better.

Babies, Transvestites and inner peace. It's all here.

2009-02-01T12:22:00.000-08:00

Fucking transvestites. Yes, as I drove away from the Burger King drive through this morning I found myself uttering these words. I then thought…wow, did I just say that? I'm not even in LA anymore which lead me to my next thought "what the, when the, where the why the…seriously. I'm in TX"

Woolooloo Woolooloo Woolooloo(chimes sounding) Let me take you all the way back to yesterday. Did you know the liver cools a degree and a half per hour after death? Hmmph.

I decided to take a walk and drift off into my ipod as It was a nice day. Walking along I noticed this candy bar on the ground…is it strange that I thought…"hmmm it's like 90 something degrees out here, I'd better eat that?" Is it strange that I ate it? It looked so lonely and it was so hot outside.

I know it's hard to see but in that crack lies a delicious fun size Snickers.

Well anyway, as I walked a little further I saw this sunflower against the sky and decided to take a picture.

Directly to the left were these other weird taller plants. Hidden more in the brush. It sometimes pains me to live in an FBI household. I will however be getting a new place soon. I should need some help from you TX people.

Then I went home and exercised with my bean. No jerks, the bean exerciser not that one.

I went to work, which shall remain a mystery to you all and NO it's not a titty bar but thank you all for your suggestions…duly noted, just because.

Here a 22 year old "colleague" comes bounding in and says "I'm pregnant!" "I'm glowing!" "Congratulations" I say. But I don't mean that. It's like that obligatory thing you have to do like when someone's a shitty cook, you eat the first helping and take a small portion of seconds whether you eat it or not. I mean, I suppose what I really meant is "you're welcome" since I, as will all of you, being paying for that baby.

"So that must have been your boyfriend you were in here with the other day?" I say. "No he's not, I mean he was, I just wanted to get pregnant again," she says.

*yes, back by popular demand…the red flag. The red flag to my blog is as WAAAh waaaaaaah is to Debbie Downer. If you're not familiar with Debbie Downer it is a hilarious sketch from SNL…here's one of my favorites. The very first and best one. It's worth the watch.

She continues "He's an asshole, I blame him for the death of our first baby even though they said it was SIDS. As soon as I took the test and found out, I'll never call him again, I'm so happy I just want another baby not him."

*OK, clearly I am no Oprah when it comes to relationships, well wait…didn't she blow it with Steadman and is at least partially gay? Bad example…I am no Dr. Phil when it comes to relationships so what comes out of me next baffles…YES…even me.

I say "Well, wouldn't you want to have a child with somebody you want to be with?" She replies "I don't want to be with anybody, I just want another baby." "Yeah," I say "But wouldn't you like to find someone you really want to be with to share that?" She then continues to emphasize what an asshole this guy was and how he headbutted her the other day. (yes, headbutt…can you imagine what what happen to some poor fella who tried to headbutt me…oy!) She then let me know that she's been flushing her birth control and trying to tolerate him as long as she can just trying to get pregnant.

It was true, at that very moment I found myself living in an episode of Jerry Springer and/or Maury. She then followed the previous statement with well, I have been talking to this girl in east Dallas, she has a boyfriend who's a real asshole too. "Well, now you have a baby daddy" I say as we crack up and part ways for a few minutes.

During this next few minutes I laughed and muttered things to myself under my breath. Not laughing because it was funny, but because that's what I do. Anyone who knows me I have a knack for laughter at inappropriate times. When I'm nervous, when I'm in trouble, marketing meetings, client meetings where they use words like "robust," anything really. It drives people around me nuts. They ask, "what are you laughing at?" Nine times out of ten my answer is nothing. Just laughing. It is a fantastic gift that I cannot explain. For future reference, I apologize now to anyone for during sex, though I am not saying it hasn't happened before.

Back to our show…then as she brought it up a few more times that night I thought to myself that I'd be curled in a ball cursing and crying if I was pregnant. I know it's not the right time for me but I put myself in my colleague's shoes and I couldn't think of a worse time. She has also been in and out of jail a few times. I would say c'est la vie but I hate the French.

Moving along. I uh. I um….(looking at my feet and digging my right foot into the ground) I watched motocross the other night and was actually enjoying it. I DON'T KNOW! GOD! SHUT UP!

I had gone out for a little then came home and thought…well I'd better finish this bottle of wine due to our fruit fly infestation. I can't even tell you how dirty fruit flies make me feel. I also am now constantly walking around looking like a tweaker thinking there's bugs on me and swatting at shit. Between those and mosquitoes I seem like an agent orange tragedy.

Anyhoo, I'm going to chalk my moto enjoyment up to the booze. I hate car and motorcycle racing and shit like that so must have been spirited by the spirits. Or I'm turning TX. I think I need to go to confession. I'll start from the first time I got my period.
"Bless me father for I have sinned. My last confession was 16 years ago." Boy could you imagine…I'm totally going to do that and tape it and post it. YES!

So this morning I went to the drive thru at Burger King. I order. Naturally the illegal voice on the other end has it all wrong no matter how many times I've repeated myself like Ben Stein. A male English speaking voice tells me to drive around. I get to the window, I'm looking at a woman who is giving me a look like she just ate a shit sandwich until she speaks. It's a man…who repeats my order like a bitchy gay guy (No, I'm no hater…I love the gays) and I'm just sitting there having been thrown off guard. "Yes, that's it, I thought she said extra coke" I say as he scoffs as if to say "duuuuuuh." I wanted to punch him. Right in his adam's apple which is doused Red Door and Polo. Don't put people who can't speak English in positions that require the speaking of English. Bitch. Fuck.

I rolled up my window and drove away. "Fucking transvestites" I say out loud to myself. It was then that I realized had I not lived in Hollywood so long, this statement probably wouldn't have seemed so natural. Whatever the case that guy should be careful to avoid a lynching.

Here I sit on another hot Sunday sipping my weight shake and trying to mentally prepare for the big meeting I have tomorrow morning. There is currently a commercial regarding vaginal infections on tv (no I'm not watching Lifetime) and the dog is giving me a stare down. I'd better go.

Oh, and I didn't really eat that Snickers. It made for a good stop along this here blog journey…speaking of…

End scene and roll credits to "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey.

Love,
Kim

Married? Felon? Stalker? Fellas, stay away...seriously.

2009-02-01T12:21:00.000-08:00

OK! Seriously. I'm getting tired of this. Well, you guys remember the story of Nickolai right? (pictured in a previous blog with another chick) He keeps calling from his friends phone (as his is still clearly not paid) and I will not call him back for obvious reasons. Well...I just got tricked and answered the phone thinking it was my mild mannered friend Basilio until he said "HEY, this isn't Basilio."
Please play "Stalk You" by Los Abandonded here. Hell, you really only need to play the chorus which can be seen here.

Then he proceeded to be like "God you never ever pick up your phone! I've been wanting to take you out! Geez girl, we have to get together!" He followed his nice statements by telling me he broke his hand over the Fourth of July and can't work and that he's a convicted felon. Now I'm just waiting for the "oh, and I have a slew of babies scattered about the world."

He wanted me to wake from my nap and meet him. I felt like an episode of cops...like this is the story that preceeds the drama. Here's my statement to police
"Well, I went to the mall to pick up my boy see...and he was calling me from his friend's phone cuz he didn't pay his bill. Then we was kicking it at the mall and since he doesn't have a car I had to drive. Then these guys came up and they recognized his jailhouse tattoo ______________________________." (you can fill in the rest here)

He is really cute though. I kinda want to call him back.

Then last night a very taken man, around my age and in town for business who has shared all kinds of stuff with me about his girlfriend, asked me to go back to his room and drink beer because it would be more fun. I said no at which time he tried to convince me at least 2 more times...."you sure?" What a dick.

This happened only after being tricked once again thinking my friend Brian was calling. It wasn't I answered. It was a different guy but one that doesn't take cues well. The day I met him he called me twice in like 2 hours and once the next day. I never answered or returned. Well this night, he wanted me to meet him I made no promises. As I was sitting next to Semper Infidelis he texts me 3 times and called twice. THE ANSWER IS NO! NO! NO!

I know you might say...why do you give your number? The answer is this...FUCK THE CELL PHONE AGE! You know you always have your phone on the table and when someone asks you can't lie because they sit next to you and call it to check for the lying. I need a new game plan.

The Awesomeness of dating...I know you're reading this

2009-02-01T12:17:00.002-08:00

Um so..i went to ol' pockets with Allison tonight in Euless to see the guy SHE wants me to date. Cute. Subtle. James. By the way this story has nothing to do with him so if you want to exit...leave now.

Then we basically sailed home in Lafawnduh on all the flooded roads. She had homework, I had beer to drink. Sooo...off to Bennigan's. Here I ran into Nickolai.**

**Nickolai- [nick]-[o]-[lie]
A generally hot species of man that any given woman may meet, hit it off with for hours, who talks about wanting to settle down and start a family(EVENTUALLY, which I'm down with) and charms your pants off. Hot tattoos, hot body, Matthew Fox+Chris Vazanna.(the date i took to a friend's wedding and eventually threw his shit out the hotel room in the hall)

WEelooWellooWellooo..(chime sounds) back to a bit ago when i MET Nickolai. I bumped into him, he was wearing a shirt that said "Michael Blew Bubbles." Of course, I'm in...you know how I am with my shirts and my humor. I tell him "nice shirt." Here's where he says "thanks, you know

what it means?"
#1

So I say YES! "Michael Jackson's monkey was named Bubbles!" From there we proceeded to talk for hours, practically finishing each other's sentences. Hot, but not in a lame way. I admire

his tattoo (love them) he proceeds to tell me he got it in jail..needle point.
#2 He took my number. He left. (Of course only telling me after how he just moved into a new condo yada yada yada)

5 days later he calls. Well after a 5 day rule...you know I ain't callin' back till the next day...right

bitches?! I do. Apparently he didn't pay his bill. So I never reach him.
#3

I meet some people who incidentally know him...

#4

I see him tonight. He doesn't recognize me so I say hello. He joins my friend Brian and I and asks me for a cigarette but clearly I haven't smoked for 10 years. He takes one, he recants a story about taking a new job and being broke, so i get him a beer.

#5

He told me he was waiting on friends. Suddenly he says "I'll be right back" and takes off. (Right now "Outshined" is playing by Soundgarden) My friend Brian notices that he's sitting there with a girl for quite some time and breaks it down for me. "Kim, that's the friends he was waiting for."

*Please note the lean in. I am very savy with my camera phone.

He stays all night except when he needs an intermittent cigarette, which Brian gives him and notes my politeness. (weird huh?! AND "What Goes Around" is playing by Justin Timberlake") He DOES however ask me to come over to his "condo" Monday or Tuesday for a little "pool party." (he also did this the first night I met him...little does he know I haven't gotten into a swimming suit since i was 2)

Brian (who is awsome and nothing but a friend well, we proceeded to enjoy the rest of our evening) and he's leaving...HHHHHHHHHere comes Nickolai. "Hey I'm with this girl and she's a friend and she wants to "eeesh" and I'm like "oooh." As in trying to convince me he's not interested in her with his fidgety facial expressions and little noises.
"I'll get my phone turned on back soon, I'll call you"

Eeeesh to the ooooh motherfucker.

Forcing the square peg for crying out loud

2009-02-01T12:17:00.001-08:00

WEELLLLLLL goddamn. It just took me 2 hours to do something that would probably take most people 30 minutes. I don't know if I should attribute it to the multiple times I had to unscrew and re-screw pieces into they're proper places…I just put together a grill. I know that SOUNDS fancy except for that it's one of those little $20 grills from the grocery store. I tried to play it off to myself like "well that meat is going to be dddddamn good after all that marinating!" while really I know I'm just constructionally retarded.

*In case you are not aware, I'm a cook but a grill master! On tonight's menu:

London Broil- w/my secret recipe marinade

My famous potatoes

Corn on the cob

Mind you, during this process I drank strictly chocolate milk as I didn't need any alcohol interference. From the first thing I started to screw in…I was SURE there were already parts missing. This way instead of feeling inadequate in the assembling arts I could simply take it back to the store and bitch about another inferior product.

Aside from the obvious benefits, I think my true subconscious reason for wanting a steady boyfriend is so he can build shit for me. My kids are going to hate me one day. As soon as that shit hands me the box that says "some assembly required," they will be met with a swift "put it back." Daddy will be busy because I sure as hell won't be spending my time trying to click, twist, turn, screw, snap or force parts into place. It's bad enough when I'm trying to get my pants on.

My fucking hands are killing me from all the nuts AND wing nuts I had to fiddle with today. I really really really really hate building shit. Home improvements fine. Things that come in pieces with instructions. Fuck that.

I wonder if it's because these products come from china and their technical artists and instruction authors don't know how to effectively translate it to English. OR just make that shit plain ass simple for people like me to understand. I don't know the Chinese metric system.

Just before I ate I had the pleasure of speaking to my mother who also let me know that my brother is reenlisting. I eventually had to hang up on her (common occurrence) and managed to sustain my appetite. Like butta.

I feel like forcing a square peg is a great analogy for a lot of things in my life I just realized. I need to get a sander.

Escape to Lost Angeles part 2

2009-02-01T12:11:00.000-08:00

Good times but ONNNNNN to the beach! So even though we started 3 hours late, you'd never know. Gaff (Last name abbreviation) picked me up and off we head to TWD's (Trish Will Dance) house. She was at the car dealership picking up her mini cooper…how gay. We did debate peeing in her plants though.

So here we are back in Hermosa beach where some sort of legendary story is born, there is usually lots of making out and Gaff always pukes.

We started off at our token starting point establishment…The Poop Deck at the end of the pier on the strand. See picture below.
*note the popeye picture from part 1 is from a couple of years ago at the very same place.

At one point I was approached by a hot guy who kept wanting pictures with me.(Play "Feel Like Makin' Love here. RECORD SCRATCH…I mean play U+UR Hand by Pink) When approached by a hot guy, I'm always lead to believe something terrible is about to happen or I'm going to get robbed or something. Let's be honest…cute gets cute. I really don't know what we were doing but it was fun. I'm sure I'm in his blog.

We were patiently waiting on our Jersey kid Audie and all of his buddies when they finally arrived hours later. I guess they were doing their hair.

Wait…who lost that loving feeling?

Suddenly Nicole challenged some random guys to a duel. A flip cup duel. They declined so she called the pussies and such and off we went to start our own game. For those of you unfamiliar with the game flip cup, which I actually don't think I've played for 8 years.
Look here.
Flip Cup- Wikipedia

Here's a video I found on youtube although our games were more exciting…hopefully when I get the footage edited you can see the magic.

This dancing picture would allude to a big win but I'm pretty sure we were on different teams.

WEEEEELL after about 5 or 6 games we and trying to teach some random old man we decided to go to the next bar. The second move…The Mermaid. It is cougar (by cougar I mean an urban cougar which is and I'll one day be- Urbancougar: a sophisticated species of female who seeks the pleasure of younger males.) central and full of mature people. The bartenders dress like they're on the Love Boat and all over 50. It rules.

My first stop was the bathroom where I began to watch film footage from earlier. It wasn't until Gaff came in that I realized I was standing there with my pants down watching the view finder. Who knows how long that went on. I then gathered myself headed out of the stall…she then handed me the phone to talk to her boyfriend. He may now know all my dark secrets…not really sure.

My next job will be magician. I pulled some Criss Angel mindfreak shit.

Being Italian, I was talking with my hands. I smacked the cocktail straws out of Rock N' Roll Nicole's drink. One of which narrowly missed Gaff's eye and the other not sure. An ice cube flew up in the air far above our heads and landed right back in the glass. The only 2 people who saw it were me and TWD. Gaff was up in arms as she thought I chucked a straw at her and Nicole was clueless. We didn't even try to explain why were laughing so hard we were crying in the group of otherwise mellow cats. It was classic.

It was nearing feeding time if us, the girls, were going to carry on. They boys had already eaten. (I suspect while they were crimping their hair) We ended up getting slices off the end of the pier and catching a cab home after telling the boys we'd see them at north end.

We intended on going…it was my fault, I had to put my bags at Nicole's house. First we decided to go to 7-11 and buy snacks and by that I mean…ice cream, snowballs, soda, cheetos and more. Next thing you know we're in our PJ's watching Wayne's World. Yet another classic.

Mmm snowballs otherwised referenced as the hairy marshmallow

***In case you're wondering…yes Gaff puked. I was awaken by furious footsteps pounding down the hallway at god knows what time, followed by a frantic door slam and the sound of vomit. Naturally, I giggled, rolled over and went back to sleep. You're welcome.

I eventually made my way back up to Jewely and Scott's place. That's when bbq and my famous potatoes ensued. Suddenly a hawk swooped down, landed on Scott's arm and started trying to peck his eyes out. One of his friends karate chopped it in the back…RECORD SCRATCH. Sorry that didn't really happen. I thought things were getting kind of boring. Moving on.

Well the next day after walking up to Melrose and getting my Ice Blended Mocha double shot there were important choices needing to be made. Where are we getting a pedicure and where are we going for sushi.

OOOH…check out ma toes. I know they look black but it's really a mixture of a dark red and black that looks like dirty blood mixed with pinot noir…kinda like my heart. Oh wait, they fixed that dirty blood problem when I was small. The Pinot statement still stands.

I MUST however tell you about the place we went to. We've gone there once before and didn't really like it but it was convenient so we went back. It's called Deon Nails on Beverly and something east of Fairfax. This crazy little Asian woman runs it and I think you should go.

While we were there she pushed a valet guy who came in to ask her a question, made way too many trips to the bathroom in a 5 minute period and used the phrase "you know you like it" one too many times. Of course, it WAS a 50/50 toss-up whether she was talking to us or on her damn phone since she had that damn bug in her ear. It all worked out though.

So sushi Roku in Santa Monica it was. MMMMMmmmmmm.

Michelle (A good ol' VA friend who I love dearly and is new to CA) fell down a hill while walking her dogs and hurt herself and lost her house key so she was out. Therefore, Jewely, Gaff and myself were in. Although the girls thought I was insulting the waiter by calling him an A-hole, he appreciated my bantor and the breaking up of the monotony of his day. He hearted me.

Please play "Walking With The Ghost" here.
I had to catch a cab the next morning at 430am. I slept for about 3 hours, went down the long hallway in J's house and froze as I heard footsteps coming behind me. Just as they got to me they stopped. After almost peeing my pants in front of the bathroom door I entered, picked my stomach up off the floor and tried to brush my teeth without crying. There's a good reason for fearing ghosts here. Turns out it was probably just her awesome neighbor Lynda who also had an early flight walking down her hallway (they have a duplex) to the bathroom as well. Still enough to shake THIS ninja!

So I'm back. But hey, a 32 ounce sweet tea at Burger Street is only 89 cents. I'm in. I've also never lived anywhere where they label the fruit advocating the use of artificially flavored sugar filled toppings. I love it I think.

I also have some shows to look forward to in the coming months….

Poison/Ratt. YES!
Tesla. YES!
And the Lone Star Fandango who consists of:
ZZ Top
David Allan Coe
Old 97s
Drive By Truckers

*you're cool, you're cool, you suck, you're cool…who's going with me!?

Escape to Lost Angeles

2009-02-01T12:09:00.000-08:00

I'll get to LA in a minute. Right now I'm flowing like vomit from Nicole Richie….

As I begin I realized I just yelled "nice fucking blinker asshole" for the 32nd time today. I also just almost had to punch a child in the neck at the barnes & noble, where I invested heavily in the "for dummies" collection, but the good news is "born in the usa" is on the radio, I have 32 beers in the fridge and I've found my Chi.

I've been working on graphics for me and A-hole's (yes, you got it…I'm K-hole) company all day and felt to go to the bookstore to buy some books to help me along. Seriously…who knew I could spend so much time in the Business and Computer aisles. (I'll include pictures later in the blog to prove I'm fun)

I decided I'd make good use of my day today though. I madea run for a border to a beer store for the first time in a while.(may I remind you dry county) Is it bad when the clerk asks "big party tonight?" I mean I'm no economist but with the price of gas, isn't it better to stock up and make less beer runs? Sweet…thought so.

Sidebar…right now I'm fascinated by an old man, WWII style, named lightening with a Mohawk on that show cheaters. amazing. Why do I have a strange feeling you'll all see me on this show one day spying on some ass master who did it again? Sweet. Again, keeping the ass in class since 1978.

On the way to the confrontation…

the confrontation…

So by the way, in case anyone needs briefing (I can also be of assistance in debriefing), I moved to TX, worked for a month for the most lame, juvenile, unethical people ever and quit because at the end of the day, I really DO respect myself. The next day I bought a second car…don't fret my little freaks I kept the Jeep, you know I'll die in that son of a gun. Meet LaFawnduh.

Then I just freaked out and bought a ticket to LA because I already felt the need for a vacation…and of course some love. Through some unexpected checks and unexpected lack of giving a shit…this all worked out nicely.
And so my journey begins. I went from

to

My figurative(if you need this definition I will recommend www.dictionary.com) ex-husband Kevin picked me up from the airport. Love him. He then took me straight to The Irish Times where everybody knows my name. I really miss those fuckers, didn't realize until I saw their faces and stupid embraces.

Me and Kevo

Below is me and my Punk Rock Dave. Photos are his favorite. You can tell.

I made my rounds trying unsuccessfully to explain what I'm doing because it really is just a shitty answer…nothing. SO I started telling people I work for the City of Dallas in a confidential crime division that falls under the martial arts wing.

Caught up on the gossip then Kevin returned minus girlfriend and we all decided to hit Boardwalk 11, the bar next door, for a little karaoke.

Here I did a special performance inducing crowd participation and lots of what I call "sexy dancing" doing my classic Pat Benetar "hit me with your best shot." I BROUGHT THAT SHIT DOWN! After making my round of hugs and kisses Kevin said "I haven't seen you move like that since we shared a stage. I mean I know that's a compliment but boy did that make me feel like a tard. Sweet. I rock at karaoke. Awesome. Hot.

Well finally Jewely, pictured below, was done working and met me back at the times from which we caught a cab to Santa Monica and went to The Pacific Dining Car. Bring your own bottle of Jordan (yes, the wine just in case there are any michael jordan or jordan catalano energy drinks out there) and get the filet.

In case you give a shit or are in Santa Monica sometime and would like to go…mmmm filet.
PDC

I think this is the pic with the fewest chins…

I got to see my pals Troy, the best Arizona proud State Farm guy you'll ever meet, and very sweet when your date stands you up…he'll fill in, and Roberta one of my favorites who I'm sure I've referenced in a previous blog as being a life saver. I also ran into crazy Jake, who along with Brower, after we'd been down in Hermosa all day, once tried to convince me to go to Vegas with them as at that point I'd never been. I still can't believe those crazy country bastards drove to Vegas that night!

I found an old ass picture from that day…check out my housewife hair…ever ago! (fuck you, it was growing out)
Please enter Popeye the Sailorman music here…

Um, this concludes Part 1. Even if part 2 is wordy I promise it will be visually stunning. End credits and roll scene to "let's get it started in here," formerly known as "let's get retarded in here."

Fleeting thoughts from a fleeting mind...

2009-02-01T12:07:00.000-08:00

I just realized I have my pants on backwards. I totally went to the store too. I mean string hanging down the back of my ass and everything. Just call me Buster Brown. I just needed to take a little break from my schnicky so I thought I'd say hello to you. The people. I swear, as I sit here working, this is what I'm watching on TV. I knew you'd never believe me so here's a screen shot. Holy crap. I think my quality as a person is going downhill. I'm like biglots! right now. I totally used to be like…JC Penny. I mean, are you smellin' my brisket and ho hos people!?

I've also found myself watching terrible shows with really overzealous announcers who say things like "YOU'RE GETTING YOUR TURTLE WAXED ON MAXIMUM EXPOSURE!" I should get back to the library a little more…of course, that's my new code word for the bar. By bar I of course mean Bennigan's or Chili's. This could cause confusion on both accounts.

I have discovered Lone Star Park. That's good times. Gettin' my gamble on. Just won on one named "Iamagoldengirl." You know I bet on that shit. YES, I'M WINNING! Just because I look stupid doesn't mean I am….jerks. Have a little faith.

Did you know Walgreen's sells propane and propane accessories? Enter "King of The Hill" theme song here. (Wow, I've actually seen that band twice…The Refreshments in case you're wondering)

So remember in a previous blog when I described getting bar elbow? Here's a refresher…I'll spare you the pictures this time.

Bar Elbow- [bahr] [el-boh]
A medical condition caused by infrequent visits to spirit (not to be confused with spiritual) establishments by which the calluses on the elbow deplete, causing blister and skin falling off like conditions upon returning to the bar for the first time and resting your elbows on the counter.

Ok, well, Allison and I went out the other night and she got a new ailment in the bar. Bar Arm. However, we call the condition Barm.

Barm- [bahr] [mm]
A medical condition caused by brushing against walls, doors or other abrasive surfaces that can cause you to cut and bleed.

Well I hope you've enjoyed this little installment of my life. The LA blog(s) should be up soon. Now, let's conspire to ignite all the souls that would die just to feel alive.

8 Strikes and a graveyard honky tonk

2009-02-01T12:02:00.000-08:00

WELL HELLO My little nuggets of goodness. I know! IT seems like forever but I've been busy soaking in Texan culture, mosquito bites and pollen, ragweed and allergen riddled air. I do believe I'm fitting in quite nicely…please reference the pictures below

My new official TX plates…

shocking I know, I'm usually so cosmopolitan and classy. Like how when I'm low on munchies I'll eat tums…mmmm, fruity or maybe like the time after the Landwirt Wine Festival I was breaking into my own house and fell off the cooler severely damaging myself on the built in flower window box? Keeping the ass in class since 1978.

All I can tell you is that I really do still think I'm blending in…even if I drive to work everyday dressed up like a chump, singing at the top of my lungs while driving a car that says "yer mom" on the plates. I'm like camouflage.

I also attended my first ho down/graveyard honky tonk. If ANYTHING, I just looked like a Miller Lite in a cooler full of Budweiser. I can roll. I mean, I don't know all the slang yet or anything but I think the people, they liked me. Everyone likes me. Except:

**i*n
J**l**
**y*
A***R
***y
Gi*a
L*l*
M*nn*
V******T
T*r**
M*m

But that's it. So anyway back to the gala…I went with my friend to her family ho down/reunion/honky tonk. It was full of amazing fun people who like beer and bands that play Bob Seger(booo), Lynyrd Skynyrd and your classic Van Morrison hits. The band was called Hog's Leg. Awesome.

We rode to the event in a 5 person car packed with 7 people…all family except me. Birds in the front, chicks in the back. Pretty funny people but I must admit…for the first 20 of the ride, I just laughed when they laughed until I caught on.

Well we got there and man for somehow being there gave me beer drinking super powers. You may say but Kim, you already possess these powers. No, this was like schnicky schnicky schneye x-men wolverine shit. Below is a pic from inside.

now that you're feeling the vibe. We all gotta get together and have one of these things…you'll love it. Eventually the "enter town name here" police showed up and shook that shit down. (I seriously have no idea where I was)

While officer Pigfucker Noise Violation No Fun was making everyone leave I snuck me a picture.

So we left and rallied in a parking lot after which we headed to the graveyard. There we hung around the other family, continued to imbibe and play music by headlight. I gotta be honest, there was something kind of comfortable about it. There's just something about drinking and singing Skid Row songs to utter and complete strangers. In a graveyard. FUCK YOU don't judge!

Timeout from this blog…I seriously have a fever. Not the kind that can be cured with more cowbell. Bloody fucking hell. I'll report back when I'm well.

This message was brought to you by partnership for a douche free America. Enter Emergency broadcast noise here. Please enjoy this image provided by the network until further instructions. BBooooooooooooooop!

OK children, I'm back. I was beaten down by the sickness. I am back with some lessons however…

1. I am not invincible no matter how much schnicky schnicky schneye I use
2. I met the man who fathered all retarded children in this world
3. I have no idea what I'm doing. Just what I want.
4. People DO bring babies to the bar.
5. Beware of truthful people you think you've found.(I learned this pretty good in LA)
6. I have an irrational fear of pooping in public.
7. I've been a lot of things…to quote the great band Too Much Joy…"I've been a butcher, I've been a baker, I have been a book maker, I have skippered clipper ships and dug for undertakers" Truly I have been:

-A chicken feed factory Security guard
-A Radio DJ
-A substitute teacher
-A coach
-A sandwich maker
-A pizza maker
-A server
-A comedian
-A front woman for bands
-A marketing asst. for an energy publication that printed daily indices for gas and oil prices and cover "gas/oil" news
-A record store worker
-A special events coordinator for a Hollywood nightclub
-A(n) administrative coordinator for a Hollywood nightclub
-A Tower sunset video store worker
-A freelance music supervisor for a surf and skate co.
-A band management assistant
-A ray of sunshine
-A marketing coordinator at an online start-up
-A sales & marketing asst. for a record label
-A dept. asst. in music publishing/licensing
-A marketing director at a Beverly hills mortgage firm and now…
A VIP concierge.

Seriously. Can someone parse this out for me. That's not pig latin it's real latin. I have NO idea what this all means. Anyone…all suggestions are welcome. I left asshole (yet I'm overflowing with love) out because if you're reading this, you already know that.

(holy jeebus dear lord I just found the Too Much Joy vid on youtube, BUT here is the song live…straight outta the 90's and it looks eerily like the 9:30 club. If you don't know what that is look it up fucker. I'm sick of posting links.

MEN- let's get to the topic of men. The last guy I met and had a twinkle of interest in earned, and I mean earned…8 strikes. First thing I see tats…hot ass tats. Then we start talking.
Strikes

1. He got out of jail last week for possession.
2. He's 22.
3. He's had a dishonorable discharge.
4. He didn't know the kid was his until it was 8 months.
5. After I saw him last night…he had 2 more beers at the bar then 12 more and some blunts at his friend's house.
6. His Grandma stopped by his house and found that he had left 5 candles burning when he went to work and almost burned the house down.
7. His friend's car window got punched out the other night b.c someone was mad at him and he was sitting on the passenger's side.
8. He's had multiple priors for fighting.
*oh crap…I just wrote a new song called "starter wife" Coming soon to a record near you.

I got all this info in less than 20. All I wanted to do was go and I was so turned off I didn't even want to flick the bean. Rare occasion. Please play the song "Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" in you head here. Please view video below and if you're interested in the lyrics…click the other link sally.

Is this a Kim thing…I mean is this me or is this the people around me. I just need some confirmation here. Does this apply to "it's me, not you?"

Well last night me and my pal Allison hit our favorite Euless hotspot…Pockets. I've mentioned this place before. This is not a restaurant, it's strictly a poolhall/bar. This is what I saw there. Um sir, you have A BABY IN THE BAR!

Um sir, your baby has your baby in the bar. I know the shuffleboard is important, I just wanted to let you know.

These pictures were taken at 10:15PM. I can't EVEN get into the boyfriends we played pool with all night. At least my guy didn't have a tattoo across his chest that said "white pride" with his Mother's name tattooed right under it. I can also not tell you how long my pool partner tried to entice me with his "own truck and a keg of beer at the house." I guess our little Kimmy's all grown up. I regret I didn't get any snapshots.

I know that this has nothing to do with anything but this could be therapeutic for me to put this in a blog. I will admit this. I've known it for a while but it's time to confront the issue. I totally have an IRRATIONAL fear of pooping in public. I can't get over it and it won't happen. I man my purse with diarrhea medicine just in case I feel a rumble. Sometimes I bet it's just my stomach growling and I take one anyway just to cover my bases. Can't poop at all in public.

SO back to TX…
I still see these RIDICULOUS window paintings wherever I go! FUCK…I saw one the other day that said "class of 2016 here we come." Are you fucking kidding me??! Who can be that proud. Oh wait, Texans, that's who. Check these…

It's hard to see but it says "honk if your country" A) nice spelling B) I know I was on the highway taking pictures in the rain. Not that safe.

mmmmmkay.

Hearts…awesome.

Rock you like a hurricane.

OK…so these next pics made me feel I took an accidental left turn and ended up back in my LA hood.

I was like…when did Magic Don Juan, the renowned Hollywood pimp come to Addison TX? I tried to find that pic of his classic green car that we all know and love but I couldn't…here's his website though. Amazing.
The Bischop Don Juan Pimpity Pimpster

Nothing I love more than an afro with a pick in it.

Here are a couple of other peculiar things I've seen laying around.

I would imagine that Jesus would disagree. Which brings me to my next photo…

The cowboy who worked at the Nissan dealership.

This just makes me laugh. Summer bush was also on sale.

Brilliant slogan.

I have a couple of new quotes of the day…one:

"look at that motherfucker, he looks like he just fell out of a computer"
-my chili's friend Les who was completely annoyed(as was I) by the mostly retarded guy to my right who kept telling me he hates all Europeans in the NBA(he fathered all retarded children) that's just the tip of the iceberg. I mean I love to talk sports but holy fucking hell NO YOU WEIRD ASSHOLE! I DON'T remember that Illinois game from 1994.

"You have to be aggressive and on the attack, because if not…you'll get attacked."
- ceo over a conference call this morning to the sales guys about selling audio/home theatre equipment. I laughed hard. I've never seen a sales guy get attacked for NOT selling a customer something.

Yeah this one has turned out pretty random but so are my days. End scene and roll credits to "I don't know Much" duet by Linda Ronstat and Aaron Neville. I do know I love you.

-PS…drum roll….please….YEAH I SAID IT (yeahisaidit.net) is on the way. HOT logo in the works. I know you'll all rock the shirts. WHY? BECAUSE you're WAY cooler than me. Bye fuckers. AND THANK YOU for all of your votes and thoughts. You are us and we are you so thanks. Offend everyone and have a nice day.

Golden Girls, Dr. Pepper and Cheese

2009-02-01T11:55:00.000-08:00

Well howdy everyone! It's been a while since my last ranting. I'll bring you up to speed on things.

I want to start by letting you know that we missed Kelli's birthday.

Also, in addition to leaving your number on the wall in the bathroom I guess it is also customary to kiss the wall too. This is a tradition I believe I'll pass (as in not do) on.

I must say the advertising in bathrooms is quite different from that in LA. My roommate and I sometimes hit a pool hall called Pockets. There we find a pretty mixed crowd and an outlet for my karaoke. Here we also find guys like this.

Please note the white pants accompanied by the form fitting white shirt under which you can clearly see the outline of a wife beater. Hot.

Usually on the back of the stall door there's an ad for dating service or Bacardi. Here we have an ad discouraging "puppy mills." Although I think it's self explanatory I had definitely never heard of puppy mills until Pockets. I'll spare you the cage pictures.

I guess it's fair if I can get away wearing things like this to the grocery store without thinking twice.

Yep…that's elastic in my sweatpants.

People here also like to paint things on their car windows. Of course there's the whole TX PRIDE! thing but there's the occasional praise to the lord and plea to secede.

Here's some other major points we'll be covering today:

1. In TX Hooters is a family restaurant (Happy 12th Birthday Carlos)
2. There is such an ailment called "bar elbow," it is akin to tennis elbow.
3. Speeding in TX isn't allowed.
4. Dr. Pepper is the official drink of TX.
5. I am writing a series of children's self help books.

Here's the in-between.

Sooooo…I don't know about you guys but I'm pretty sure an odd question to field on the way into the Kroger is "excuse me Maaam, how are you today? Would you like to buy a baby turtle?"

I think it is best to just let you, the reader, marinate with this for a while. We'll come back.

On the way to a job interview, to which I never made it, I got my first speeding ticket in 10 years. 47 in a 35…that shit costs $173! I didn't even try to argue, I accepted my fate of driving school. In a place called Farmers Branch. I KNOW, you say…Kimmy can't you leave the courts alone?! I'm trying. BOOOOOO!

Needless to say my car is now registered in TX (I cannot WAIT to share my personalized plates with you all when they arrive) and my license is in the mail!
*notice the above did not contain the contraction "y'all"

When I first saw this headline in the Dallas Morning News I was intrigued. I thought maybe they were doing an expose on Wisconsin.

Upon further review "cheese" is what the kids are calling al ol' mix of black tar heroin and cold pills these days. Who knew?

The first installment of my children's self-help series will be called "Jordy and His Drugs." This book was inspired by a little trouble maker boy who works at Chili's and has dreams of playing basketball at community college but is ruining it all.

Now, living in a dry county comes with it's advantages and it's obvious disadvantages. (picture this read by the man who narrates The Dukes of Hazzard) I've discovered the medical condition of "bar elbow." Did you know you can lose the calluses on your elbow that you get from resting them on the bar? Then when you go and rest your elbows for the first time you have to deal with the fact that you have pansy elbows now?

Bar Elbow- [bahr] [el-boh]
A medical condition caused by infrequent visits to spirit (not to be confused with spiritual) establishments by which the calluses on the elbow deplete, causing blister and skin falling off like conditions upon returning to the bar for the first time and resting your elbows on the counter.

it's not pretty. This was taken after one of my first few visits to Chili's. BOOOOOOOOO! Pansy elbows!

I believe this was the same night that me and Allison (my roomie) went to Hooters as Chili's was dead and there's no such thing as a pub in Irving.

APPARENTLY Hooters falls under the umbrella of "family establishment" in TX. There were little boys running around everywhere. I'm judging since they knew all the waitresses by name their parents bring them there a lot. Wow. After the girls made Carlos use to go boxes as wings and put a cup on his nose like a beak and flap around the restaurant pretending to be an owl for his 12th birthday I snapped a photo of these boys at the bar. Yes, that is their mother with the Mickey Mouse bag WITH her kids IN Hooters after midnight.

Everywhere I go I'm offered Dr. Pepper. When I go to interviews they don't ask if I'd like water or coffee…they ask me if I'd like a Dr. Pepper. Everywhere, all the time.

Have you ever heard of Dublin, TX? Me either. I was informed by my friend Stacey (who has an extensive and thorough review and rating system of fast food restaurants regarding who has "good" and "bad" Dr. Pepper) that this is where they make Dr. Pepper with pure cane "Imperial Sugar." She is awesome all the time. Upon further investigation I've found that the oldest DP plant is in Dublin thus somehow officially rendering it the official drink of TX. I guess it's time for me to be a pepper.
Dublin DP

You may say BUT KIM didn't you own a turtle named Buster Rapscallion DeFranco that you bought for $5 in Santee Alley? My answer to you would be yes, that is correct. But I bought him IN AN ALLEY in LOS ANGELES. I went there to for the specific purpose of buying a turtle unlike Kroger where I had bread in mind. Sketchy. I want to hear from YOU! Weigh in.

Anyone who knows me understands I call all of my girl friends Gina. It's nice and easy. I have an army of 50 I call Gina who also calls me Gina…it really makes things easy. Whenever someone's real name is Gina it makes me giggle. Well Imagine my delight when I was at a temp agency a few weeks back and the person in front of me was named Nigina. I very stealthily took a picture. I'm such an ass. I pulled the ol' "oops wrong button" when the receptionist gave me a look.

Speaking of jobs, I just found out I got one. It's perfect for me. We'll get into it some other time.

Now I figure I'll wrap it up. I know you're busy at work and it's time for you to check CNN and Perez Hilton.

WELL I've got to go too. I'm going to meet BLANCHE from the GOLDEN GIRLS at a book signing tonight!

End scene and roll credits to The Golden girls theme song.

Today's scriptures require a key and some love

2009-02-01T11:50:00.000-08:00

---------------------------------
KEY(as in legend)

* Food for thought
** Words to live by
! Fo Shizzle
π Pi
---------------------------------

OOOOOk…late start this morning as I decided to watch a movie around 1045pm last night. Well, the departed is the longest movie ever so it was over at 9am and I...I was up at 10.

TODAY'S MISSION
Task 1-Taking my car

*ok...i don't have the monster tires.......yet!
to the shop to see what the rattling, which I've already self diagnosed via the internet as a loose or broken rear joint, noise is and get it fixed.

Task 2- Find this store:

Kim Suck Joo
601 N Belt Line Rd
Irving, TX 75061

(972) 313-1725
**Maybe if Kim did this, her career in showbiz would be kosher (no pun intended) right now.

Task 3- Get underwear. Time to make use of the Victoria's Secret gift cards from x-mas.

*AND clearly I will look like this:

See...we're soooo cut from the same cloth. I'm pretty sure I'll be joining the angels pretty soon.

I went to the shop. My roommate(who is awesome all the time except for when she makes me watch 13 going on 30) recommended this place which she refers to as "in the ghetto." In Irving, "the ghetto," means an area waning in abundance of fast food, chain restaurants and strip malls. So what she means is a less populated area spotted with auto repair shops and maybe a furniture shop or gas station here and there.
*breaking news…this will only make sense to Gaff but there is a severe storm warning for palo pinto county

I guess the common folk is lost without a veritable cornucopia of wendy's, whataburger (which was referenced on king of the hill yesterday on the history of TX episode), chic-fil-a, arby's, mcdonald's, chipoltle, quizno's, taco bueno, chili's, hooters, bennigan's, 7-11, diamond shamrock gas stations and a strip mall every ten feet. Curiosly enough, whataburger's logo looks a lot like the weezer logo(I'm sure rivers has already tried to sue) and the restaurant looks a lot like wienerschnitzel.

So, back to the shop…the wait was too long so the guy suggested i come back between 2 and 3. Of course this was my window to go shop for drawers. i.e. draws/undawear. Lets not forget the braziere.

I proceeded to walk into Victoria's Secret. A few things caught my attention right away…the red carpet was wrought with spill stains and the teenage employees. Everyone knows that's a dead giveaway for no sales help. There was no way to know the surprise I was in for next.

I was completely excited though, not like in the romantic I want to do it with this bra kind of way, but to be underwear shopping. It's totally a whole thing!

After about 30 to 45 minutes of trying shit on I realized something…my boobs ARE kinda big. I had to make the leap of a cup size. How depressing. I mean the straps get wider, there's more hooks…NOT sexy at all. I don't want to be this cup size because it makes me think of strippers and old ladies. I don't want to be thrust into that category! See pictogram insert for scientific gravity study:

π
I felt this belonged in the science portion of this rant.

So as if it weren't bad enough, you know what kind of music they play in VS. That crappy stock techno/dance stuff…not the ones that are singles…things you've never heard. Suddenly I hear an opening riff I recognize with avengence. It took me right back to the hair band days, my inspiration for wanting to be a rockstar and the one hit wonders I loved. It was "love is on the way" by Saigon kick. WHO? You say…here's who

what I heard was this…

Terrile...F!

at this point I've been in the store for over an hour and reallllly needed to go.

I eventually left and headed back to the shop. They checked out the jeep and then he referred me to a friend down the road so off I went.

I arrived to find a man with a long braid down his back and was sure the giant truck thing was his.

the only difference was it was white (imagine that) and had a confederate flag emblem on the front.

! After exchanging some pleasantries I experienced some tx hospitality and he fixed my car for free as it was a quick weld job!
He then informed me to be careful of other repair shops in the area and there "are a bunch of sand n*gg*** in the area that will rip me off." I took his words to heart and was on my way. (*not before he instructed me where I can go muddin' and drink some beers)

NOW…task 1 and 2 were accomplished. I set off to locate kim suck joo. Much to my dismay whatever type of business this was(I think grocery) is no longer in existence…sorry no photo.

So let's review what we have learned. *Owning a vehicle with tires bigger than the standard car tire creates an unspoken bond whether you want it or not, ANY bad song can somehow become passable if covered by a techno/dance artist(I use this term loosely), and my boobs are bigger than I thought. Ugh…end scene and roll credits to "bittersweet symphony" by the verve. (**that song always make me think of striped pants like this. There's something comforting in that I think)

My First Sat. Night In...in years

2009-02-01T11:49:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well! here i am...watching some good quality television. cheaters. this raging woman just busted her boyfriend, whom she has at least 2 feet on, at the days inn pool with a woman that's not his baby mama. fancy! the days inn!? i'm sure a nice meal at burger king preceeded this trip to the urban beach. yeah, did i mention this is in dallas?

Anyhoo, I figured I better lay off the crime television after I found myself searching for sex offenders in my neighborhood...which I found and now keep a print out of his picture in my wallet, taped to my dashboard and on the fridge. Ok, not really but I totally know what he looks like now. it makes me especially happy to have a dog with downs that'd kill a butterfly in my honor. thanks chuck!

this is the first Sat. night I've been in the house in f'ing ages! it's soooo long if you stay in. i really had no idea how much stupid shit you can do and how much bad tv there really is, which i love by the way(and still haven't watched any reality, OH! Oxygen channel or the shitzilla of them all...MTV) I'm also amazed at how much truly worthless research I can do on the internet. Did you know the human head does NOT weigh 8lbs?? Fuck you lipnicki! See everyone though he was so smart with his little glasses...

OH OH! LOOKA WHAT I ORDERED TODAY!

that's right bitches! the bean! when i get back to LA, i'm thinking possibly thanksgiving, you won't even recognize me! i'll be rockin' my bean to a better me. ok, get your dirty minds out of the clean gutters...eeesh!

Being here i've also been reflecting upon my time in LA, with whom i spent it and my inevitable everyday task of separating the shit from the chocolate. I'm SOOOO not in the mood to be serious, but let's just say the finding the chocolate is like finding your mom in the mall. exactly...i have no idea what she even looks like so it's tough.

is THIS your mother?

end scene and roll credits to "rhythm nation" by janet jackson. yeah, i don't get it either but the music owns me.

So Now I'm in TX....

2009-02-01T11:47:00.000-08:00

We're going to start this differently... pretend "Life is a highway" by Tom Cochran is playing the entire time you read this.
The day after I arrived my roommate/fellow jackass had to go to GA to deal with wedding (I know, what a moron) plans. This means I had the place to myself and a map. When I say myself I mean me and Charlie, who I affectionately call Chuck.

he's mildly retarded and has velociraptor nails. For velociraptor see insert. He's definitely not good at pooping in the grass…always ends up on the patio baking in the hot TX sun.

I promptly got into a Texasly routine of sitting around in my pj's, eating… drinking coffee and beer and watching court tv & a&e. worked cigarettes into that diet too.

I finally decided to leave the house. (in doing so I discovered the small mammal sized mosquitoes, If you run into one it's like walking into a spiderweb) First things first…the grocery store.

I noticed a few key details in the way they say thangs down here vs. most other places. For instance…in the aisle where all the international foods are…you know Hispanic, Indian(dots not feathers), Asian etc…well, here's what we have…this one's for you Mr. Roboto

I get verbally bitch slapped if I say that shit…not KROGER!They're all…DAMN THE MAN! I proceeded until I came to this aisle…

I thought ahhhhh…finally, someone gets it…

actually not quite what they meant. Take your own guess.

I can tell you that to the local folk Wal-Mart is the holy land and each store is bigger than any fucking Costco and or 60,000 plus sports arena. It's scary. Also, avoid falling into fits of laughter if your're nearing the check-out clerk in line, they take it very personally. AND whatever you do, don't make eye contact but be sure to tell them to have a good day…or you may get this:

you don't want that. Yeah that's me(roll Daniel powter had a bad day song here…record scratch! I mean whiplash by metallica)

So…so far, aside from lack of acceptable sushi restaurants, and an abundance of places with names like Po' Melvins, I am shocked and saddened by no trader joe's or ANYTHING remotely like it. The finer foods here end in "er's" and almost everything has a drive thru. The kitchen at home was also stocked with plenty of this when I arrived…

yeah, not gonna happen flo! Keep yer grits to yerself.

I'm gently am entering the adjustment period as to not completely throw my system into shock. I do like the pace and starting to like the place. I'm thinking I'll be here in no time…

not so much of a blogger but this is kind of fun. I'll keep you posted if I hit any steer, acquire any firearms, give birth or eat the testicles of some farm animal. Got some interviews, we'll see. Cheers! Roll end credits and enter "break my stride" by matthew wilder...c'mon all together now! AIN'T NOTHING GONNA BREAK MY STRIDE, NOBODY GONNA SLOW ME DOWN....

OH..no shit..I'm not kidding...I just saw a commercial for the news at 4 and the newcaster said "parents, heavy metal music and your kids, no need to worry. Why new studies say it MIGHT be good for them. More at 4." Are you fucking kidding me? we're still on this???

18 hours in the fucking car- day3

2009-02-01T11:44:00.000-08:00

3/12/07

Up and at em asshole! (that's me) Checked out of my fancy hotel, to the nearest gas station..bought a bottled water (which I appropriately left on the ground next to the gas pump) and off I went. Off to another brilliant start..a special Olympic start.

7:15AM
Set my vibe with a little JT Futuresex/lovesounds...oh sweet Justin! Then nothing for a while cept this.

I thought I had seen all the beauty and wonder there was to see after I hit Meteor City..

BOY WAS I WRONG!
Although there are no dinosaurs abounding near Flagstaff there certainly were plenty near Holbrook, AZ. See insert.

I was very struck by this amazingly life like replica of "Dino eating man."

sidenote:
I also realized something about Indians/Native Americans or what have we these days. The tribes seem to get all up in arms over mascot use etc. but have absolutely NO shame with giant gawdy fake teepees, giant billboards and life size dolls of Indian children on the side of the road to entice travelers into pulling over to INDIAN CITY. REAL NAVAJO BLANKETS. REAL INDIAN BEADS. PETRIFIED WOOD. Hmmm..what do you think. Cast your vote at WWW.CNN.COM

Finally time for breakfast so I stopped in Gallup, NM..where I couldn't find any of the restaurants listed on the signs so guess what I had for breakfast..you got it, Taco Bell. Awesome.

Back on the road and pop in a mix cd Gaff made me. First track, "secret song!" As I headed towards Albuquerque into the beautiful yonder of this

the music starts playing and I hear this..

that's right..the Laverne & Shirley theme song. Perrrrrfect, "we're gonna do it!"

Singing, smoking and frappacino drinkin' my way along the highway to scenes like this

I stopped for gas near Santa Rosa. See, I actually thought I was in SR but apparently not. I finally found the 1 gas station to fill up and relieve myself. It was pretty classy. Note the bathroom shot below.

nice..

After a shitload of cramping and driving and trying to go 90mph downhill, so that when I head up one I can stay above 70, I reached mmmmmmmm the state of Texas. Wahoo Wahoo. (Ben Stein Voice)

Honestly..what kind of shitty welcome is this?

I booed. Aloud.

I also now understand the phrase "as big as the TX sky." It's all you can see because there ain't shit else. Flat nothing.

As I drove along I realized it smells like poop a lot. I'm not good with smells. In a panic to keep from vomiting I yanked my vanilla x-mas tree air freshner and jammed it straight under my nose to kill the rank of the manure areas. Kinda like this guy..

Now that I was in TX I was under the dumbass assumption I was close. I began to see these signs every 10 feet (much like the South of The Border billboards in SC for anyone familiar) for a place call The Big Texan in Amarillo. This place sounds like heaven..free 72 ounce steaks if you can eat it and free limos. The sign for fried rattlesnake wasn't really the selling point for me.

I stopped in Amarillo for gas and as I was pumping saw a pick up cross the overpass and what happened..that motherfucker had the Dixie call as the horn. You know, the horn the General Lee has on The Dukes of Hazzard? If you don't know what I mean, check this.
http://www.hazzardretreat.com/sounds/dixiehorn_yell.wav

SOOOOOOOoooo..I kept driving, singing and smoking as night covered the day again. Pumping myself with caffeine and nicotine. I figured if I was holding a stick that was on fire it would help me to focus.

It was town after town of the exact same shit. I did pass through a village/hamlet with a torturous name as all I wanted to do was go to bed...

Finally after 18 hours of driving I was in dallas. Here I am I've arrived. What now, who knows. Stay tuned for the next installation of "now I'm in TX!" Roll end credits to "All My ex's Live In Texas,"

I'm leaving at 6:30AM...or 3PM- Day 2

2009-02-01T11:41:00.000-08:00

3/10/07

Going away party ..3.

It happened by mistake..I went for a minute to see my IT(Irish Times) crew for the last time and Jewels called and said she and Scott and Pals were coming. So great! They came..they left, I didn't. I managed to get home at a decent time but it still impeded my progress the next morning. I did however get this picture of some guy's NHL tattoo...

3/11/07

2:49PM
OOOOOOn the road. Of course, the first 2 hours were just getting out of LA. I really was listening to Poison's Greatest Hits..SO LA! Singing my face off and headed to Flagstaff rather than Albuquerque due to my late ass start.
ME AND MR. FLAPJACKS WERE OFF! I don't know why my Mr. Flapjacks movie won't work BUT Mr. Flapacks is a butterfly drawn for me by Machinsky. He's not just a picture he was also my travel companion.
Made my first stop at Newberry Springs..where I TOTALLY had plenty of gas. A little while later I was deep into desert hoping to get to get to Needles, the next town with fucking gas! I made it on the last line of the gas gauge and was lucky enough to find gas at a healthy price of $3.50/gallon.

This is where I began my steady diet of Taco Bell, cigarettes, Immodium AD and Starbuck's Mocha Bottled Frappacinos.

I had also been talking into a tape recorder since the beginning of the trip to document my thoughts and shit. I eventually realized it wasn't recording..just like the let down of no WMD's.

The ride got boring quickly until I happened upon this street at exit 44 in AZ. It momentarily amused me then it was straight back to amusing myself.

I kept plowing on listening to David Allen Coe, Dwight Yoakham and the like. Eventually I was nearing Flagstaff which meant "elk crossing" for miles. That's when shit started to go downhill.

I had been up at 6am and doing the type of labor the mayans did to build temples then loaded my car and off. My eyes were playing tricks on me, I kept slamming on my brakes for no reason..I mean, everyone knows there aren't any dinosaurs along the 40E outside of Flagstaff.

10:30PM
Finally I arrived. I stopped at the Days Inn pained and needing to unload the shit out of my car so nobody steals my janx but they didn't have a first level room. At this point I wanted to die. I cut through a couple parking lots and found the Econo Lodge..ah.

They even had wifi. I smoked, decided against taking anything out of the car because I thought my arms would fall off..this happened to a former boss of mine a lot. End scene and roll credits to the Charlie Brown/Peanuts theme song.

2009-02-01T09:36:00.000-08:00

2009-02-01T09:14:00.001-08:00

I heart Karma and it hearts me! Day 1

2008-08-15T15:57:00.001-07:00

3/9/07

What a party! Last day at work, trying to train people who speak Spanish but need to know Swahili, philly cheeses steaks and cupcakes. OOOOOOH and all my friends! Moromisato Mr. Roboto offers to help me carry my boxes to the car. I decline. Then I say…OOOOOk.

6:45PM-
After being assisted in carrying boxes and saying our final goodbyes I hopped in the car turned the key for my beginning…and nothing. Not even a click.(I was sure it was my starter) Long story short, Eddie and James were still there and of course Mr. Roboto stayed with me.

After 7PM
We realize that a tow truck can't get into the garage on P3. For some reason James had a tow rope…in LA. So we pulled it around in a circle to get enough speed and Little Miss Sunshine'd that shit!

I truly don't know what those boys were doing there after 7 on a Fri. night…well maybe Eric! I feel lucky…I did something good because a little bit of karma came around for me.

The next morning involved calling the tow truck…of course the fucking car started when he was there, so I drove it to the shop. New starter, new oil. Time to sell the rest of the furniture; we're ready to go.

Stay tuned for the next installment into the most poorly planned trip ever. END CREDITS ROLL OVER UNSKINNY BOP BY POISON.