Christ, everything hurts. I have discovered muscles I didn't even know existed because they hurt like a mother. I pretty much feel like a pack of wild dogs suddenly grew opposable thumbs and learned to wield baseball bats by beating me like Amy Winehouse. I have ankle splints, for tit's sake!
But at least I'm moved now, thanks to the help of my hoss friends. And lucky us, we got to meet one of my new neighbors, Gladiola. We bumped into her in the hallway that bears an uncanny resemblance to the ones in Stephen King's The Shining as we were hauling all of my crap in. Yeah, she's about 85 and smells like a potpourri basket, but she kicks serious ass and is totally bangin'.
I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm gonna see a ton of wrinkled old ass at the pool being as I'm one of the three people I've seen so far younger than the Crypt Keeper. But fuck it, right? Because who really wants to sit around in the midst of a bunch of bikinied hard bodies when you could sip mint juleps with catty old bitches whilst wearing enormous sunglasses and turbans? WAY more fun, in my opinion!
Creeptastic
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We've all been the subject of inappropriate flirtation in the workplace at one point or another. Occasionally, it's kind of fun…Especially when it's YOU that's being the lascivious one. Not that I would know anything about that. Mwa ha ha!
What is super not fun is when it's REAL sexual harassment. I used to work with this dude who was SO creepy, that he was clearly not only a rapist, but in fact, was Rape incarnate. He seriously has to cruise in like a big, white van with no windows that he drives around parks and stuff.
One morning, I was minding my own business and getting some gross freeze-dried coffee in the break room, when Pervy McMolester busted in and invaded my personal space per usual to get himself a cup. Swear to god, y'all. He poured the coffee, stuck in a stirry thing, and proceeded to lean down and put his face three inches from my tits and stare back and forth between them as if they were dangling cat toys and he, a fucked up perverted cat.
I wanted to be like, DUDE. It's not that impressive. Fuck off already! But instead, I stood there going UUUuuhhh? as it was happening. It was so shocking, I couldn't even respond to beat him bloody.
The good news is that later, I heard about how he totally pulled his pants all the way down to the floor to take a piss at the urinal. I'm pretty sure that this is for easy raping access so he can turn and stick it up a nearby butt if the moment strikes him, but still, it makes me happy to think that he's totally making an ass out of himself in public bathrooms every day. He deserves it like a mofo.
What is super not fun is when it's REAL sexual harassment. I used to work with this dude who was SO creepy, that he was clearly not only a rapist, but in fact, was Rape incarnate. He seriously has to cruise in like a big, white van with no windows that he drives around parks and stuff.
One morning, I was minding my own business and getting some gross freeze-dried coffee in the break room, when Pervy McMolester busted in and invaded my personal space per usual to get himself a cup. Swear to god, y'all. He poured the coffee, stuck in a stirry thing, and proceeded to lean down and put his face three inches from my tits and stare back and forth between them as if they were dangling cat toys and he, a fucked up perverted cat.
I wanted to be like, DUDE. It's not that impressive. Fuck off already! But instead, I stood there going UUUuuhhh? as it was happening. It was so shocking, I couldn't even respond to beat him bloody.
The good news is that later, I heard about how he totally pulled his pants all the way down to the floor to take a piss at the urinal. I'm pretty sure that this is for easy raping access so he can turn and stick it up a nearby butt if the moment strikes him, but still, it makes me happy to think that he's totally making an ass out of himself in public bathrooms every day. He deserves it like a mofo.
Things I Don’t Understand: Part 133
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We all know I'm pro homo. I don't discriminate against love of any kind (with the violent exception of nookie that hurts anyone, e.g. child molesters. Clearly, that is not love, but fucked-upness that should be permanently removed from modern society.) (I also hate it that I had to clarify that point right there as if I were somehow linking homosexuality with baby raping, because I am so NOT.) (Heh, have you ever been SO ok with something that you begin to worry about how you are acting, thereby convincing others that you aren't ok with it because you're trying so hard? That totally just happened to me here.)
WOW. Digression. Anywho, something I don't understand is butch lesbians. I know some butchies, and they are fantastic human beings, but when one of these pals joked that she was going to dress up all fem one day, it got me to thinking about why she doesn't do it anyway.
I mean, chicks doll up to attract mates, right? So I think well, damn, bitches. Clearly the objective would be to deck out even more than usual because ladies have a more scrutinizing eye for fashion. Isn't the point to put the naughty on a chica? And if so, shouldn't said girl be…girly?
What is the attraction to a masculinely dressed woman? Isn't the femininity supposed to be the attractive part? Or is it like a Hostess© Cupcake, where there's a surprise in the middle?
I sofa king we tawt Ted.
WOW. Digression. Anywho, something I don't understand is butch lesbians. I know some butchies, and they are fantastic human beings, but when one of these pals joked that she was going to dress up all fem one day, it got me to thinking about why she doesn't do it anyway.
I mean, chicks doll up to attract mates, right? So I think well, damn, bitches. Clearly the objective would be to deck out even more than usual because ladies have a more scrutinizing eye for fashion. Isn't the point to put the naughty on a chica? And if so, shouldn't said girl be…girly?
What is the attraction to a masculinely dressed woman? Isn't the femininity supposed to be the attractive part? Or is it like a Hostess© Cupcake, where there's a surprise in the middle?
I sofa king we tawt Ted.
Chunders
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We were at Record Bar last night, preparing to have our minds rocked by my new favorite band, Poradova, when the delightful Miss Lizzard invited me to go shopping for locally designed lingerie. This sounds like a blast because what kind of ineffectual sloth doesn't want bangin' one-of-a-kind panties and trashy hot bras, all while supporting local business? I mean, who would want to wear giant, cotton underpants that could be tucked under one's armpits, right?
Heh. Well, you know. What are you gonna do? I LOVE them! I love the ones that come in a package of six and have disco paisley patterns! I love being free from even the threat of a wedgie because they come down to your mid-thighs! I love it that in the event of being flung from an airplane, I am totally packing a parachute over my buns. They're just so AWESOME!
I know they're fugly, but I refuse to conform to undergarment fashion that isn't spectacularly comfortable. My ass is too superb to suffer for style.
Heh. Well, you know. What are you gonna do? I LOVE them! I love the ones that come in a package of six and have disco paisley patterns! I love being free from even the threat of a wedgie because they come down to your mid-thighs! I love it that in the event of being flung from an airplane, I am totally packing a parachute over my buns. They're just so AWESOME!
I know they're fugly, but I refuse to conform to undergarment fashion that isn't spectacularly comfortable. My ass is too superb to suffer for style.
Can You Charge a Ghost for Half the Utilities?
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I think I've finally found an apartment, which is clearly sub-par to my current place, but it's kind of like comparing Jennifer Anniston and Angelina Jolie. Both are nice, but dude.
I'm still pretty freaked out, though. Mostly just because moving blows, but also because I'm pretty sure that the new place is haunted. We went in to look at it with the manager, and she kept making this fuss about how the lady that lived there before had been there for eight years . This got me thinking:
Me: So, why did the [skank] that lived here for so long move out?
Manager: Hmm. I don't know.
Me: *pause* Well, she didn't die in here, did she?
Manager: *even longer pause* Um. I don't...know. It's happened before. We have a lot of elderly people here.
Me: *shits pants*
So great. I get to be roomies with the ghost of an old biddy. I hope she like, clips coupons for me and knits cute stuff instead of scaring the ass out of me. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to have a super sweet excorcism party in lieu of a housewarming shindig.
I'm still pretty freaked out, though. Mostly just because moving blows, but also because I'm pretty sure that the new place is haunted. We went in to look at it with the manager, and she kept making this fuss about how the lady that lived there before had been there for eight years . This got me thinking:
Me: So, why did the [skank] that lived here for so long move out?
Manager: Hmm. I don't know.
Me: *pause* Well, she didn't die in here, did she?
Manager: *even longer pause* Um. I don't...know. It's happened before. We have a lot of elderly people here.
Me: *shits pants*
So great. I get to be roomies with the ghost of an old biddy. I hope she like, clips coupons for me and knits cute stuff instead of scaring the ass out of me. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to have a super sweet excorcism party in lieu of a housewarming shindig.
Pooty Peeker
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I'm so traumatized, dude. I got potty peeked today! How grotesque!
I was in the can, minding my own business and doing my business an aerodynamic manner, when some bitches came in. I recognized their voices as two of my pals, which made me damn near miss my poo window. By the time they get to washing their hands, I can hear them whispering. Something about "think someone's in here", "can't see feet." So one of them busts over to my stall, and peeks in at me through the crack. HOLY EFFING WEIRD, Batman!
Oh. My. GOD. It was terrible. And then, to top it all off, they made it out like I was the freak for taking my brown eye sightseeing with my feet up. I maintain that in fact, they are the creeps for perving out and peering into a bathroom stall.
I will never shat again.
I was in the can, minding my own business and doing my business an aerodynamic manner, when some bitches came in. I recognized their voices as two of my pals, which made me damn near miss my poo window. By the time they get to washing their hands, I can hear them whispering. Something about "think someone's in here", "can't see feet." So one of them busts over to my stall, and peeks in at me through the crack. HOLY EFFING WEIRD, Batman!
Oh. My. GOD. It was terrible. And then, to top it all off, they made it out like I was the freak for taking my brown eye sightseeing with my feet up. I maintain that in fact, they are the creeps for perving out and peering into a bathroom stall.
I will never shat again.
Night of the Living Shithole
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I'm apartment hunting, and we all know what a party that is. Well, I made an appointment to see one at 10th and Holmes…A cool little section of downtown with lots of rockin' old federal buildings and fun bars close by. So when I dragged Nellorz with me to go see it, we were kind of excited, right?
FALSE.
It was a fucking crack den. Like, people stretched out on the sidewalk outside, wandering around the lobby with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, and like…skankville apartments. I could have kicked down one of the doors to break in and mutilate someone if I so chose. And judging from our delightful little experience in the "laundry room," which is better described as a "gross butt crack," that's exactly what would happen to me if I lived there.
Seriously, there was this chick loitering by the washing machine, wearing a shower cap just on the very top of her head as if it were a yamaka with the rest of her hair dangling below. She looked like a god damn jelly fish. So she saw us and said, "Hmmmwhatr yuu doon herre?" Um. Right. So we told her. And she said, "Hhhmmmwhered yuu come frum?" And Nelle and I looked at each other in what-the-fuck-ness and told her. And she goes, "Didjoo say Bannister Mall?" And we go, um, NO. Then she looks at us with narrowed eyes and informs us that, "Bannister Mall izz clozzzedahumm."
Oh. Dear. God. If this is any indication oh how this hunt will pan out, I'm totally just gonna put my shit in storage and go to Europe indefinitely!
FALSE.
It was a fucking crack den. Like, people stretched out on the sidewalk outside, wandering around the lobby with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, and like…skankville apartments. I could have kicked down one of the doors to break in and mutilate someone if I so chose. And judging from our delightful little experience in the "laundry room," which is better described as a "gross butt crack," that's exactly what would happen to me if I lived there.
Seriously, there was this chick loitering by the washing machine, wearing a shower cap just on the very top of her head as if it were a yamaka with the rest of her hair dangling below. She looked like a god damn jelly fish. So she saw us and said, "Hmmmwhatr yuu doon herre?" Um. Right. So we told her. And she said, "Hhhmmmwhered yuu come frum?" And Nelle and I looked at each other in what-the-fuck-ness and told her. And she goes, "Didjoo say Bannister Mall?" And we go, um, NO. Then she looks at us with narrowed eyes and informs us that, "Bannister Mall izz clozzzedahumm."
Oh. Dear. God. If this is any indication oh how this hunt will pan out, I'm totally just gonna put my shit in storage and go to Europe indefinitely!
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