Monday, March 23, 2009

Flim flammed

Dear State Farm,

While it is admirable that you proactively adjust my insurance rates, I can't help but wonder if you should instead use the money to include a small packet of lube with my next statement.

I may not be Einstein, but giving me a savings of .25 and then charging me 1.00 service fee for making the policy change does not quite add up. Sure, next month I might save that 25 cents again, but I am onto you. I'm sure in May you will save me some additional negligible amount and charge me yet another $1 for that adjustment. I really don't have the time or energy to call you to fix your fucked up shit. Stop it already.

Violated in Ohio

Friday, March 20, 2009

Treading on Your Bush Rights

When you think of New Jersey a few things come to mind. Attitude, accents and big hair. Although I think the southern states (particularly Texas) have been giving NJ a run for the big hair title. I recently read an article that Jersey is considering a ban on Brazilian waxing. It seems that two women were hospitalized for infections after receiving their Brazilians.

Everyone knows that when you remove hair – especially down there – you have a risk of ingrown hairs, rashes, and who knows what else. Any woman that goes in to get her who-ha waxed and expects not to suffer probably deserves what she gets.

The fact that the State Board of Cosmetology is considering a ban, after just 2 complaints seems a little fishy (I know, I said fishy, hahaha!) Can you imagine being in a salon, all spread eagled with those strips pressed against your privates when SWAT bursts in during a raid? How humiliating. If they think the original law suits were bad, wait until a personal injury lawyer gets a hold of this.

Brazilian junkies will be traveling to neighboring states to get their anti-bush fix. Who does that help? Not the New Jersey business owners. Will the police start patrolling the Jersey shore looking for ladies with bikini bottoms that lie just a little too flat?

5 0: “Excuse me ma’am, are you a resident of the state?”

NJ Broad: “What’s it fuckin’ ta ya asshole?”

5 0: “Obviously you are. It’s come to our attention that you may be just a little too smooth down there. We’ll need you to come with us.”

I’m sure this is just the beginning. First, they’ll outlaw bush waxing. Next will come a ban on flat irons. I mean, how many ladies are getting burns that lead to infections from those damn things. Then, do you know how many people have scalp burns from the harsh chemicals in those hair straightening kits? It all sounds like a conspiracy to regain their big hair title.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

America, Home of the Malcontent

I spent some time yesterday doing what the majority of the free world was – filling out my March Madness bracket. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not really a huge fan of basketball, college or pro. My husband and I always take these first two tournament days off, mostly I spring clean. He’ll be watching the championship run non-stop so I figure I might as well have some fun even if I don’t know much of shit about the teams.

Let me say now that I filled mine out on my own time, at home and on my own computer. I’m not judging those that did theirs on the clock or on their employer’s equipment, just saying that I did not.

I had heard that Barack (hey – I voted for him so I figure that puts us on a first name basis) was going to fill out a bracket on the air on ESPN. I thought this was pretty cool, that we have a president hip enough to care about March Madness and fun enough to share his picks with the rest of us. His picks were bound to piss off some schools which would have been enough to keep a lesser man mum on the subject. Let’s face it though, only one team will win and the rest of them should just suck it up and stop with the whining already. I’m sure his picks weren’t any more personal (or prophetic) than the picks made by the thousands of “sports analysts” that have been going on and on about this for weeks. And it’s not like he threw in an 8 billion dollar bet on the outcome.

Being the keen observer of human nature that I am, I knew it would just be a matter before some curmudgeon put their foot in it. But even I was momentarily stunned when it came from Duke’s own Coach K. As soon as I heard it I knew the shit was going to hit the fan. Sure enough, message boards, blogs, even CNN is abuzz with the fallout from this comment:
"Somebody said that we're not in President Obama's Final Four, and as much as I respect what he's doing, really, the economy is something that he should focus on, probably more than the brackets," Krzyzewski told a reporter from the Associated Press on Wednesday.

What a brilliant insight. I’m sure that President Obama should be focused 24/7 on fixing all the fucked up problems in the US. Maybe he should budget a few grand for Depends so he doesn’t have to bother with pesky bathroom breaks. And he can be hooked up to some of those nutrition bags that deliver all your dietary needs intravenously so he won’t need time to eat. I mean, how dare he take a moment to do something frivolous that might give himself and some others 5 minutes of enjoyment.

This same thing happens in the work place. We recently had a bowling tournament between departments. At lunch time the groups went to the local alley and bowled against each other. It was fun. It was good for morale. But of course we had people who sat in their cubicles with their mouths screwed up so tight they looked like puckered assholes, saying things like “I can’t believe everyone is wasting their time bowling. There so much work that needs to be done.” I’m sorry, but you’re not so important that the entire company will implode if you’re not there for an hour and half. Hell, you don’t bother to drag your sorry ass into the office until 9:30 every day. We’re all salary. And we all bust our humps a hell of a lot more than 40 hours a week. We don’t need your stick-in-the-ass attitude. And we don’t need Coach K’s either.

Exactly what is Coach K doing to help this country? He’s an educated, wealthy man. But his entire life’s work is around coaching a FUCKING GAME. Maybe he should wake the fuck up and get a real job that actually does something to lift the US out of the giant shit hole it’s immersed in. Otherwise he should just shut his pie hole and keep enjoying his millions while the rest of us hard working Americans get ulcers about job security, crappy medical care and disappearing retirement funds. And hope we might win $50 on the outcome, because that $50 might mean we can buy groceries or diapers or medicine.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Sneaky bitch

I spent last week hibernating with a relapse of the zombie virus. It was cold out, so I didn't think I missed much. Then yesterday I discovered that while I was dead to the world Mother Nature went and sprung this on me.

Daffy's by my porch

Buds on a tree with a robin

Mmmm. I grilled hamburgers today. I've moved straight from fevered to spring fevered!

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Camping girl style

I'm finally posting the pics from last weekend. There was supposed to be a bigger group, but just three of us ended up staying Friday night and then only two on Saturday. We were staying by a lake outside of Wilmington, OH. For those of you that haven't heard, Wilmington is the little town that USED to have a big DHL center. DHL closed and now the unemployment rate in the area is just sad.

Here's the "cabin" that we stayed in. The weather was great, we got unseasonably warm temps in the 70's.

Here's the hot tub. Behind it you can see there's not much but trees. It wasn't really that secluded, there were houses close by in the other direction.

We had stopped at a Papa Murphy's and waited 25 minutes for a pizza (if you're not familiar, they make up your pizza and you take it home and bake it.) But when we got to the cabin there was NO OVEN. There was a convection oven, but the pizza was too big to fit in it. So we headed back into "town" to buy a cooked pizza and some other supplies.

This was a bar on the main drag through town. We never did find out exactly what this sign meant. Neither did we get to display our own dancing skills which surely would have gotten us run out of town.

None of my deer pictures came out very well, they blended in with the brown grass and brush so that you could barely make them out. But they were all over the place. We had pizza, brownies and wine and started a fire in the outdoor pit when a pair of glowing eyes came out of the woods and crashed the party. If you look close, you can see one of the eyes.

I didn't really think a possum or coon would come nosing that close to the fire and three gabbing women. I cleaned up the photo and you can make out that it's a little calico cat.

We put some pizza toppings out and she eventually warmed up to us and hung around on the deck while we hit the hot tub. (We assumed it was a she. We weren't rude enough to try to check out the goods.)

I know you're disappointed, but you're not getting a peek at any of the druken chicks in a hot tub photos. I did find it funny that when I got home I had received this joke from my mom (and no, we weren't naked:)
Three Ladies in a Sauna









Despite LMP's fears, we survived the night, no axe murderers snuck in to hack us up in our passed out states. It could be that the cat was still keeping guard even though I caught her sleeping on the job when I got up in the morning.

And since we took Chasers with all the wine so we didn't feel like total hammered shit, we hiked over to the lake in the morning and enjoyed the nice weather.

We had a blast, and Bev got plenty of good blackmail pictures of the Besties. Now it's cold again and I haven't been out of my house all weekend.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Alternate endings, Take 1

Random conversation in the Clueless household

Captain Clueless: “You know those idiots that stole all that copper wiring from AT&T for five week’s in a row?”

Hoodchick: “Yes, I remember those dumbasses on the news. Like no one would notice and set up a sting.”

CC: “Well one of them plays for X.” (X substituted in place of the actual softball team name.)

HC: “No shit.”

CC: “Yeah, you know the blond guy that plays short stop?”

HC: “Not sure.”

CC: “You know, short, young blond guy. Plays short stop.”

HC: “I have no idea.”

At this point, a normal person would say something like, “Oh, well, you’d know him if you saw him.” Nooo.


Ending number 1 (which may happen depending on the cycle of the moon, how big of a dick CC’s been that day, or any other random female stereotype :)

HC: “What the fuck man. I said I don’t know who you’re talking about. Just repeating short, young and blond isn’t doing anything for me. You think I can remember all of these assholes you play ball with? Besides, that’s one of your frenemy teams and you hardly ever play them. If you said “You know the guy that always wears his shirts too small so his fat, disgusting, stretch marked gunt (btw, thanks for that word FADKOG!) hangs out for all to see?” Or “You know the guy that walks like he has a corn cob stuck up his ass?” Or even, “The 6’5” guy that weighs about 110lbs and has teeth like a meth-head?” These would be memorable traits. Otherwise, all those dicks are wearing matching hats, shirts and pants. You know, uniforms. They all fucking look alike to me. So what’s the fucking point here?”

CC: “You. are. such. a. fucking. bitch.” *silent treatment for the rest of the night*

Ending number 2:

HC: “Oh yeah, the short blond guy.” (eye-roll)

CC: “Yeah (chuckle,) what a fuck-tard” *and all is right in the world*

When your kids start asking you complex questions about when it’s ok to lie, feel free to use this as an example.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

What the hell are YOU looking at?

I don't know about you, but I'm fascinated by stories where animals are fighting back. What amazes me is how humans are just cluelessly going about their lives and thinking that animals are, well, dumb animals despite all evidence to the contrary.

I used to have a cat that would get annoyed if you wouldn't let him outside. He would get on the fireplace mantle and calmly scoot a knick knack over to the edge. And stare at you. If you didn't get up and let him out, he'd take a paw and calmly push it off. Then he'd start on another one. Scoot. Scoot, scoot. Stare. Scoot. Crash. Stare. Scoot. Scoot, scoot.

Obviously this took some amount of thought on his part. Even if I hated dusting all of that crap my mom kept around it was more of a pain to sweep up the mess. I don't think he was being spiteful, just that it was a way to get what he wanted. Which was a shot at all of the neighborhood lady cats. He didn't have to have grand plans to be a thinker.

You'll notice in the story below that they claim the chimps behavior is anti-social. By whose standards? If you were wrongfully jailed, no matter how nice the cell, would you not plot some revenge on your jailers and the looky-loos?

Stolen from the AP:
"A canny chimpanzee who calmly collected a stash of rocks and then hurled them at zoo visitors in fits of rage has confirmed that apes can plan ahead just like humans, a Swedish study said Monday. Santino the chimpanzee's anti-social behavior stunned both visitors and keepers at the Furuvik Zoo but fascinated researchers because it was so carefully prepared.

According to a report in the journal Current Biology, the 31-year-old alpha male started building his weapons cache in the morning before the zoo opened, collecting rocks and knocking out disks from concrete boulders inside his enclosure. He waited until around midday before he unleashed a "hailstorm" of rocks against visitors, the study said."

Just wait until he gets his opposable thumbs on some plutonium.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Porn in a small town

I was watching the news last night, and they were doing a story in a local small town about the increase in car thefts. On screen was the local 5-0 asking residents to stop leaving their keys in the car and start locking their doors.

In the background I could see a shot of downtown. And just over the officer's shoulder, a movie marquee. (Remember when there were movie theaters downtown? Before the huge multi-plexes took over?) What was showing?
That Into You

I think they've got bigger problems than car thieves.

For those of you wondering what the deal is with an early, sober, Friday post - some of us girls are heading for a mini get-away. We've got lots of booze, cards, a hot tub and a gas fireplace. Alas, no wifi. But I will have my camera, because that's the bitchy kind of friend I am.

On Wednesday, while LMP and I were leaving a bar (yes, after the wine tasting) a guy stopped me. Whatever he said was lost in the band music so I classily yelled "Huh?"
"Is your name Bev?" he asked.
"Uh, no." I replied.
"Oh. Ok. Sorry." he said.
As we walked away I heard LMP pipe up "Bitch, you so know your name is Bev!"

All I know is Bev is going to the retreat this weekend and she's totally getting revenge on Little Miss Perfect.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

What the hell was I thinking

It's Wednesday. I went wine tasting with Little Miss Perfect and a friend yet to be nicknamed. We're taking a girl's retreat this weekend in a cabin so I'm sure to come up with a good one for her after this excursion. Oh, and I now have an alter ego, Bev. More on that later.

Man am I going to feel like shit at work tomorrow.

Monday, March 2, 2009

All aboard

I spend a lot of time making fun of reality TV, but I do watch some. And last night I couldn’t resist watching Celebrity Apprentice. With the people they had on, it was bound to be a train wreck. I wasn’t disappointed.

Let me just say that I had stopped watching this show after the second go-round, mostly because the “winners” were total asshats and the people who should’ve won had all been axed for stupid shit.

They put the celebrities in teams of men versus women and the first “project” was making and selling cupcakes for charity. (BTW - at some point in my teen/early twenty years I was amused by Dice Clay. I don’t know why, my only excuse is that I was young and dumb. If anyone wonders if he’s really like that, or if it’s just his shtick, wonder no more. He’s a complete pig.)

In short, the men’s cupcakes tasted like ass (according to Jesse James) and the women won because, well, their cupcakes didn’t taste like ass.

The thing that really got me was Dennis Rodman. What he was saying about there being a lack of leadership made sense. None of these people are project managers, and that’s why the show ends up being a complete cluster fuck. I should know, this is what I do (manage projects, not fuck clusters.) At no point do you see them actually sit down, write out all of the tasks and then assign people to them. Then all the PM has to do is make sure each of those people is doing what they were assigned.

Sounds simple, right? It’s not. Because in the real world you end up stuck with people like Dice Clay – who refuse to do what they’re supposed to and go off to do their own thing. And Annie the poker lady/cupcake nazi who was worried about how much money she personally could raise to the point of nearly blowing a $9,000 sale. Thank goodness the bosomed bunny was there to keep the buyers interested.

Instead of stepping up though, Dennis just disengaged and pouted like a 2 year old. If I had been in charge, I would have hooked my pinkie through his lip ring, yanked him down to eye level and told him to get his ass out there hustling cupcakes or him and his worthless scarf could go back to the suite.

I doubt I’ll watch another episode because it’s going to be pretty much the same exact shit every week. But I did learn a couple of things. First, I should make everybody on my projects get a lip ring. Second, I need a playboy bunny to smooth things over when I go all psycho-screaming-bitch on somebody’s ass.