Crusader Promises Bloodbath

8.3.11

Cancer Crusader, Jordan Dlask vows eternal alliance of  Crusaders and Vikings in an all-out, 50 mile walking war against all cancer pirates. In a show of solidarity and honor, Dlask inscribed the name of Gary Richardson, King of the Vikings on his Crusading Cape. He will be walking this Friday, August 5th, in a lap-by-lap pirate slaughter. If you wish to support him verbally or monetarily, visit http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFLFY11GW?px=22368700&pg=personal&fr_id=34020

As of press time, there was no contact with the Unicorns, but it can be assumed they are also an Allied Force. The Ninjas have yet to choose a side.

I know this is like way off topic...

... but does anyone remember what Black Snake Moan was about? I know it had Samuel L. Jackson and Christina Ricci, but what the eff was it about? All I remember is the part where she's in a half shirt and panties and he's got her chained to an engine block. Oh, and it's in the South. Duh! Samuel L. Jackson.

You know, I'm pretty sure I never understood what that movie was about, so it's not that I don't remember, it's just that I don't get it.

OK, I also know that movie was from like 10 years ago and maybe I missed whatever conversations people had about it when it came out. But it has really been bugging me lately. I realize I could Netflix it and watch it again and try to figure it out, but from what I do recall, I'm pretty sure it would be a huge waste of time.

So, you know, whatever. Any insight you may have would be really great. Thanks!

Cat Food, Meat Tenderizer, Air Fresheners

These were the contents of my shopping cart at Target last night. A large bag of cat food, a meat tenderizing hammer (special care taken that it is the dishwasher safe model) and two 2-pack air fresheners. That's four air fresheners. As I exited the retail market, a number of possible newspaper headlines ran through my mind:

Area Cat Owner has Stinky Home and Tough Meat

Lonely, Smelly Cat Lady Doesn't Like to Wash Kitchen Tools by Hand

Crazy Woman Lures Neighborhood Cats, Bludgeons Them, Hoards Carcasses, Police Alerted by Smell of Death and Fresh Waters

Huge Sale on Cat Food, Meat Tenderizers and Air Fresheners!

Local Chef Actually Cat-Person, Hid Tail Under Apron and Feline Odor with Plug-Ins

Meow Mix and Lavender Fragrance Theft at All Time High, Protect Your Goods!

Psychosis Often Begins with Over Analysis of Personal Retail Purchases

Thanks, Amy Winehouse

No, really. Thanks. I appreciate it. Your death has, once again, reminded me that I am already too old to die at the age of 27. Not only that, since you died, I have been reflecting seriously on our lives and when I compared them, I realized:

1) Neither of my two albums ever won a Grammy.
2) I don't have a soulful command of jazz music even though I'm white and Jewish.
3) The gigantic pile of mess on my head isn't an original, eccentric beehive hairdo. I just need to brush my hair.
4) When I stumble out of a bar with my bra showing, TMZ doesn't show up and no one is fascinated by my lifestyle, it's just sad.
5) Your tattoos scream "Bad Ass Hellcat," mine say "I got this little shamrock with my sister..."
6) When I went to rehab, there were no incredibly catchy songs about it on the radio.
7) When you died, millions of people mourned talent gone too soon. When I die, tens of people will hope they can get the funeral over with soon.

So thanks again for rubbing your post-mortem superiority in my face, and if you see Heath Ledger, tell him I'm still pretty pissed about that whole "Overdose/Dark Knight" thing. That was just tasteless grandstanding, in my opinion.

This Would be Upsetting if I Didn't Write It

http://lascruces.en.craigslist.org/cto/2506932616.html

Today Was a Good Day

Spending hours mindlessly reading Craigslist adds has finally paid off.

http://lascruces.en.craigslist.org/rnr/2443391920.html

Are You from the Future?

If you answer "yes" to any of these questions, you might be from the future.

1. Do you drive a DeLorean?
2. Do you constantly find yourself trying to return to October 26, 1985?
3. Are you half naked, riding in Bruce Willis' taxi right now?
4. Is your Soylent Green made of people?
5. Are you currently hunting genetically engineered humanoid robots through dystopian Los Angeles?
6. Are you the founder of the Army of the Twelve Monkeys?
7. Is Big Brother watching you?
8. Are these the droids you are looking for?
9. Is it your duty, as a fireman, to burn all the books in your society?
10. Have apes replaced humans as the dominant life form on your planet?
11. Is your palm flower / lifeclock blinking, hence indicating your time for voluntary execution?
12. Do your mashed potatoes "mean something"?
13. Ewww, did an alien just burst from your chest?
14. Are you a software engineer digitally transported into the mainframe of your employer's computer?
15. Is Drew Barrymore your little sister and are you hiding a deformed midget from the government?
16. Did you intend to travel through time but accidentally become a fly?
17. Are you Will Smith? Because Will Smith is from the future, a lot.
18. Did your on-board computer just alert you of danger, Will Robinson?
19. Is there an asteroid headed toward you, right now?
20. Did Keanu Reeves just tell you he "knows kung fu"?

Keep in mind that this is simply an evaluation tool to help you determine if you have future-like symptoms. If you think you are futuristic or may be going back to the future, contact Doc Brown immediately.

When I say Harry,

You say:

For Your Reacting Convenience:

A brand new element had been added to my blog beneath each post. There are three choices after the phrase "I was all" and they are: "Ahahaha!", "What?!?" and "Sad Face". Please feel free to react to my posts using these highly simple responses by clicking on the boxes next to each reaction. It is far easier than formulating an opinion and actually writing a response. It lets me know that my, shall I call it an organized readership? is still out there. No pressure.

What a Relief!

Now I can utilize my precious, precious time worrying about things that are actually dangerous.

 Like urinating on electric fences and getting mercury poisoning from eating too much canned tuna.



Pardon Me, Ma'am?

On behalf of all of the other patrons at Hobby Lobby, I'm going to have to ask you to never wear that tangerine silk one piece jumpsuit again. I know you thought you were making a festive, Summery choice when you put that on this morning, before you headed out to purchase more DIY jewelry makins', but I don't think you understand the detriment you have caused to your own appearance.

Perhaps you were under the impression that the multiple beaded bracelets and necklaces would add a bit of flair to the belted ensemble you concocted this morning, but really they just caused me to have a flashback to the times I spent belly dancing in drum circles back in college. The tinkling of handmade bell-adorned jewelry and clickity-clack of bedazzled sandals on Hobby Lobby's floor was so distracting, I almost forgot to buy half of the useless crap I went in there with the intention of purchasing.

So please, let's never see you in all that get-up again. The cashier and I nearly had to say an unkind word about you after you left, and we know that wouldn't be up to the family friendly standards of America's Favorite Craft Store.

Hey Guys, About the Other Day...

So um, yeah. About that whole thing where I said all that stuff about all you guys who I hadn't talked to in a while that showed up to my dad's funeral a few weeks ago... Right. I pretty much called you all bastards, well, just so you know, there's like an addendum to that. So, whatever. In case you're interested... Wow. This. Is. Awkward. But, hey, right? I mean, ugh!

Oh, then, I like e-mailed some pretty weird stuff too. I don't know, I think I was sober. It was morning, right? I was probably sober. I mean, I was supposed to be sober, ha ha, anyway...

Cool, so, um. Great thing on FB the other day, by the way. Totally hilarious. Well, yeah. No, yeah... Er. Yeah. Cool. See ya, yeah...

This Time, Lil' Miss Check-Out, It's Exactly What it Looks Like

Unlike all of the other times I feel like the items in my cart or hand basket or in a disorganized jumble in my arms are an unfair representation of my lifestyle when I go through the check out line, today you are welcome to judge me based on my purchases. The pair of Spanx, two boxes of Jillian Michaels Detox and Fat Cleanse, bulk sized tub of spinach and fat free yogurt are all products intended for exactly what you assume.

There is a wedding gown in my closet that I purchased 5 weeks ago that was only a little snug when I got it, but I was way too cheap to buy the next size up and pay $100 to have it altered to fit me properly. Unfortunately, the same pirates who killed my daddy are apparently allies with the Ambien Walrus, who fed me fried chicken and brownies against my knowledge. So, here I stand at the check out, ten days before I'm about to get married, in a last-ditch effort to lose enough post-funeral bloating so that when they zip that bad boy up I don't pass out from hyperventilation caused by the inability to breathe enough oxygen to remain conscious.

Don't worry. I have plenty of time. The disastrous gastrointestinal side effects of this plan should wear off at least 48 hours before I have to wear the very expensive, and obviously stainable dress. And if this doesn't work, you can expect to see me around that same time frame purchasing water pills, laxatives and ace bandages (for binding reasons.) I appreciate your nonchalance, I suppose this is nothing really, compared to last week when I came in here buying a pregnancy test and a bottle of tequila.

I'm Going to Pistol Whip the Next Person Who Says 'Bitter Sweet'

What an insightful comment. How very sensitive and original of you to recognize that my wedding will be both sad and happy, what with my dad dying like a month before I am getting married. You should be a counselor or something, with thoughtful things like that to say. You know exactly what to say during difficult and emotionally trying situations. And you are not at all the fiftieth person to say that to me either. Oh, and reminding me that my dead father will be there in spirit is a great way to help me feel extra shitty for attempting to feel some happiness that day while everyone else in my family will be feeling extra alone.

Dear Friends from High School and College,

Holy crap! Since you heard my dad died, that was like so awesome of you to friend me on Facebook and then show up to my dad's funeral after you totally blew me off for like three years. I'm totally going to forget about how you didn't call or text me or email me back after I got divorced. I know, my ex-husband was for sure the one to side with, even though I didn't cheat on him or spend all our money on hookers and blow, he was obviously the victim because he was way better at looking pitiful. So you were absolutely in the right to take his side and ignore me and act like we were never friends in the first place.

No, seriously, I get it. It's absolutely the grown up thing to do, to decide which of us you were loyal to and then completely shun the other. I loved how you made up for it though, by looking ashamed and telling my mom, a grieving widow, how you felt really bad and wish you had called me or something. That was classy.  But do you know what my all-time-favorite part was? How you hand delivered some letter from my ex-husband to my mother. That was awesome! No I didn't actually read the letter, but I bet whatever it said was something a grown up that was too embarrassed to show up to his ex-father-in-law's funeral would say.

Cool, well, it was really great seeing you. Thanks for the hug, I enjoyed comforting you while you cried during my time of loss. And, you know, if you ever feel guilty enough to awkwardly contact me again, go for it! I'll probably be halfways polite and not introduce you to my new husband again!

ADDENDUM: Okay, so it's like three weeks later and I'm a total bitch. But you can't fault me for it. Or, you probably can. Agreed: it's my fault I'm an absolute bitch. I'm going to play the "My Dad Just Died" card, and I'll see your "I Know You Were Friends With th Ex-Husband Longer" and I'll raise you a "I Suppose I Shouldn't Get So Angry, it's an Awkward Situation All Around."

Happy Hospice Day!

Yesterday was Mother's Day, I know. But my family celebrated another holiday as well. This is a lesser known holiday. And like Easter, it doesn't always fall on the same day. Some years it falls on your birthday, sometimes on Christmas and sometimes on a regular old Tuesday. But this year, Hospice Day came on Mother's Day!

Never heard of it you say? Well, maybe that's because you have never had a terminally ill person or three living in your home. It works like this: the Hospice Fairies come to your house and deliver all sorts of goodies. Pamphlets, medical equipment and emergency morphine death kits. Lots and lots of family members and friends come over in rotating shifts and whisper nice and sometimes awkward things about the person you are celebrating for.

Then, everyone stays up real late at night and tells stories about the Hospice King or Queen laying in the special bed in the quiet room in the back of the house. Different families have different traditions when it comes to this part of Hospice week. Our family gets real drunk every night starting at about four in the afternoon. Then we start making up songs about everything we are doing at the moment. This year, we started a new tradition where the youngest daughter of the family shows the oldest daughter her vajazzle first thing in the morning. Happy Hospice Morning Sister!

If you have never celebrated this holiday, I hope you get to someday, because geeze, it's about the best one there is!

Hey, Federal Government, While You're at It...

I know you are really busy with this whole Osama DNA testing thing, but I was wondering. I have had like, no luck on the Maury show finding out who my baby daddy is, and I was hoping you could maybe check that Osama DNA for me?

It's probably a long shot, I know. But I've already had those guys at Maury's check Darnell, Leon, Frankie, Paulie, Stevie, Angel, Paco, Lalo, Lupe and Eddie. I was gonna see if they could look for Juanito, but I think he was locked up at the time I got pregnant with Junior, so it's probably not him anyway.

I guess what I'm saying is that you guys are checking that dead Bin Laden guy's DNA anyway, so it wouldn't be much extra work to see if maybe he's my baby daddy. If he is maybe his cave family has oil money or something that I could get for child support, you know? I mean, Junior's got brothers and sisters who have daddys that never send their checks neither, and they need pampers and whatnot too. So, you know, just let me know.

Sorry Fellas and Hispanic Lesbians...

I'm officially off the market. My amazing man asked to make an honest woman outta me and I took him up on the offer. Too bad, crusty old barflies, you had your chance. And all you overweight, spiral-permed mamis, this chica is taken.

You probably thought you had a lifetime of opportunities to snag a slice of this Amazonian delicacy, but you were wrong. So hitch your wagons to some other moderately attractive, severely hilarious and entertaining woman in another gay bar, dance club or bowling alley, because this one is spoken for. And don't expect me to be showing back up, ever!

Fellow Employees, You Are Welcome.

I bet you all think Walter's retirement party is going to be pretty lame. I am here to make sure that doesn't happen. Now, I'm not the kind of public school employee that shows up to a retirement party looking to get wasted and fall on the sheet cake. I'm a little classier than that. Don't be ridiculous, I'm not going to pull a "young new science teacher" and rip off all my clothes and jump into the pool in my tiny lacy undies. But, what I will do is get just drunk enough to say things like "No, I can totally drive home, I just need to chill in the parking lot for a while and remember where I live." When Paul's wife says to me "When are you going to stop loosing weight?" I will reply "As soon as my dad is done dying from brain cancer." And when Walter opens the gag gifts, I will lick my finger and insert it into the rear orifice of the blow up sheep.

I know it's not much, it isn't as cool as having sex in the bathroom with one of your wives or sisters, but it's what I am willing to do to make sure that you go home with some memorable moments from this party.

I Didn't Realize Being Judgemental Was a Job Qualification For Albertsons Employees

Oh, OK. I see how it is. I can see by the look on your face as you are ringing up my purchases that you think you are better than me. What you don't understand Miss Alberstsons Courtesy Clerk, is that this collection of items that I am purchasing from right now is not a fair representation of my lifestyle.

You see, I stopped on my way home from work to pick up a few necessities for my upcoming weekend. I can understand how eight Lean Cuisine microwave dinners, a bag of cat food and two packages of chocolate chips may come across as rations for a very sad and lonely woman. But what you don't know is that I only picked up these meals on a whim. They are on sale at more than a 60% savings. I don't eat them for dinner, as their title suggests. I take them to lunch. At my job. That requires a college degree. Something you obviously know nothing about.

And the cat food is a merely a favor I am doing for my boyfriend. You see, I don't even own a cat. In fact, I plan to use these chocolate chips to make muffins for the aforementioned boyfriend tomorrow morning, after we spend a very sensuous and romantic night together.

So there. My life isn't as sad and depressive as you believe. Some people. They have such bizarre imaginations. They just make these crazy stories up in their heads about people that aren't even true! They just assume things about people without even talking to them. God. I can't believe some people, like you, Little Miss High-and-Mighty Check Out Girl.