Friday, December 31, 2010

No, I'm not pregnant

I totally barfed this morning. Probably because of the insane headache I developed overnight. But every time I tell people that I feel 'like I'm gonna barf' or that, in fact, 'I just BARFED' I get really paranoid that they think that I'm pregnant. I'm not pregnant. I just feel like I'm going to barf all the time.

Maybe I feel like people think I'm pregnant when I tell them that I feel pukey, because when other females tell me that they feel vomitous, I infer that they, themselves may, in fact, be pregnant.

It takes one to know one right? And even if I was pregnant, I would make up a lie about it for the first 3 or 4 months, something like, 'I have a migraine' or 'I'm super gassy' or 'I'm winning an eating contest against myself.'

You'll never know. Except for this one time when I tell you, that, no, I am not pregnant. And now I've probably jinxed myself. Thanks for that Self. Asshole.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

My boyfriend gets ready for work:

"I just took you out shit face and you were a dickhead about it too. I'm not your bitch. No pupper, you don't get to go with me. Oh god! Emily! I hope that was him and not you, ugh. Emily, if you don't take him out by the time I go on my break at work, so help me god! So help me god!"

Monday, December 27, 2010

For the new year

So. Every new year everyone is like, 'imma quit smoking. imma quit drinking. imma gonna go on a diet.'

This year, just make it easy on yourself. Just start flossing once in a while. Like, just once a week. It will take you about 30 seconds. A small life change that will benefit you and save you about $1,000 (give or take [in dental bills]) in your life-time.

You'll actually be able to keep this resolution up too. It's barely even a commitment. Buy Glide Tape cuz that's the best dental floss on the market. I'm just trying to help, so don't hate. Your breath might be like 10% better too. So tell your significant other to thank me.

Monday, December 20, 2010

So you think you want to rob me?

Yeah, with it being Christmas-time and all these crazies out and about, I've been trying to be a little more aware about being mugged. But, I'll be honest, I'm never that aware. Mainly because I'm busy trying not to make eye-contact with anyone gross or out of their mind.

But, in the wake of two different customers telling me how they got mugged this week, I decided to take the advice of one and zip my purse up inside my jacket. Now, anyone who knows me in real life, knows that I don't give a snizz about how I look (seriously, if the greasy rat's nest on my head didn't tip you off, then maybe my stank-ass dirty t-shirt would...), but I totally looked pregnant, which wouldn't usually faze me, but then I started thinking about crazy people who attack pregnant women and try to steal their babies and I was like, well, shit, I'm an even BIGGER target now. Like a double target for muggers and baby-stealers. And I could barely sit down AND my bag was making the chapstick in my pocket dig into my leg. Listen, it just wasn't working for me.

So then I decided that I would just carry my cards and license in my inside coat pocket and just try to not usually carry a bag. But I quickly realized how much I still needed my bag for all the garbage I carry from here to there.

Basically now, I have my cards and phone in my pockets and my garbage in my bag and if I get robbed that fucking asshole is going to get some tampons, a few coupons, half a thing of tic-tacs, a menu to my new favorite bagel restaurant, and a mostly filled-in day planner. Oh, and probably the satisfaction of knocking down a short girl and making her pee in her pants.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Broad blanket statements

People who mainly ride bikes to get around Chicago totally suck at public transportation. Sometimes they don't know how much fare is ($2.25) and what transfers cost ($.25) or even how many transfers you get within two hours (2). They are also bad at figuring out how long it will take to get from point A to point B. This leads them to either flip out and have to take a cab OR just be late to wherever they are going (usually to work). They also don't understand that buses don't run all night which leads them to have to take a cab again...

After I stopped riding my bike because it got too cold, I was late to work once. That was dumb. It's amazing that I forgot how much I hated all the jackasses on public transportation. When they're not being slow, rude, annoying or gross, they are being scary or weird. Once in a while someone is being funny, but usually that fits into the 'annoying' category as well. People are nice almost never. You'll probably read a lot on this blog this winter about retards that I see on the bus and train.

On a different note, I bought this hand-soap that totally smells like hairspray. It's grossing me out pretty much constantly and I'm washing my stupid hands more than ever just to get rid of it faster. If you're smart you will take my advice and never ever buy 'Cherry Blossom Softsoap'. Even though it's 99 cents, it's really not worth it. I speak from experience. The 'Black Raspberry Vanilla Softsoap' smells like bunghole too. DON'T DO IT!

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Just a little hamburger up in here...

I was talking to one of my friends about how my boyfriend took some junk in the fridge and made something delicious. Just random stuff that I thought would be gross together, stuff that I told him that if he cooked up, I wouldn't eat...leftover hamburger patties, smashed up, cooked and thrown into seasoned tomato sauce and put over pasta. I thought it would be gross, I told her, but it was really good!

To which she replied, 'So, he made a meat sauce with pasta?'


Yeah, being a vegetarian for a zillion years did a little number on me.

Monday, November 29, 2010

I'm drinking cheap-ass beaujolie nouveau in case you were wondering.

I got rained on today, which seemed pretty shitty, but sort of okay. But then, right after I ate a burger, my stupid anti-depressant made me feel like I was going to barf. All. Over. Which was still okay, cuz I'm used to it, and I'm dedicated to not feeling like complete shit from chronic depression.

So, I'm getting freezing cold rain on me and I feel like I have to barf.

Fine. Fine. Fine.

Then I'm waiting for my bus, and my super smart phone tells me that it's gonna be a while. Okay. So, I light up a cigarette. Then this guy, maybe around my age, maybe a tad younger, tells me that he has the 'deal of the night, an offer you can't refuse' for me. Okay, he had me at 'deal'. So, I'm listening. He tells me that if I give him a cigarette, he'll give me a brand newish Bic lighter. I tell him that it does, indeed, sound like the deal for me. I give him a smiggidy smoke, and tell him that they're ultra lights, he then tells me that I should give him two...I only gave him one, cuz I'm stingy like that. Then he stands too close to me, maybe got spit in my eye (maybe it was the rain?) and tries to flirt, but I think he was too high (like on POT!), I know this because he asked me if I wanted to smoke pot. (I didn't because I don't trust strangers at all, and he may have had the herp...How do I know?). Anyway, I did discover that he was from Tennessee and basically temporarily homeless, and he tried to get me to invite him to my place (I DIDN'T, THANKYOUVERYMUCH). Then I got on my bus, because that was my plan from the beginning.

I'm a fucking bitch because I'm complaining about being hit on. I KNOW!

Then I got home. It smelled like ass up in this apartment. So, of course, I gave Jack some dirty looks. I was all like, "SHIT Jack! Where did you poo? Why did you poo?! PLEASEDON'TLETITBEONTHECARPET!"

But quickly, I realized that it was some stupid garbanzo beans that were rotting in my fridge, that I put on the counter last night, and forgot to throw away. So, I opened the stupid tupperware to throw them away, and pretty much spent the next five minutes trying not to throw-up all over. My face even turned red and Jack ran away. After I finished retching and panicking from how much my body was aching to barf and cry from the smell of rotten beans, I then had Major Diarrhea (and every time I talk about diarrhea I call it 'Major', just so you know). Don't worry. I made it to the toilet.

My boyfriend just walked in the door (as I was writing this), made a face, and asked me if I farted. I told him to read my blog.

And THIS is what I call "A Day in the Life of Emily Illinois".

Sunday, November 28, 2010

a stupid interaction tonight

Me: Ramon! Look! Look at Shirley Temple tap!

Ramon looks up from playing WOW

Ramon: Don't care.

Favorite Thanksgiving dinner quote:

Babz is my sister.

"Babz...loves...fat girls?!..."

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Where the fuck is my muse? Oh, it's somewhere in that bottle of whine...

Now that I've been laying off the vino more or less, I've found that the muse doesn't take me as much. This, in my mind, is a bit of a bad thing. Am I one of those writers who's creativity is influenced by self-destruction and chaos? I'm thinking; probably...

How bad is it to have 2 glasses of wine and go to town on the internet though? I mean, really...I do have a lot of fun...

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The Right Choice

There are a few things that would make me abort a fetus. One of them is finding out that it was Republican.

Friday, October 29, 2010

A Note for the Ladies

Hey girls. Let's all just promise each other to stop saying that a vagina is like a 'self-cleaning oven'. Because it's not. It's like a vagina. It's been in use for hundreds of thousands of years. Doing what it does. Taking care of itself. Oven's haven't even been around for that long.

Maybe ovens are like a vagina? Just putting that out there...

But seriously, vagina's are like vagina's and they do what they do. Whether or not it is 'self cleaning' is really up to the owner, but comparing a vagina to an oven really sets women back (into the kitchen, bitches) in some small way. And annoys the shit out of me.

Let's say that a vagina is like a ninja, or a renegade, or a one-man-band, or a FUCKING VAGINA. A vagina stands alone motherfuckers.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Thanks for nothing, meat.

Now that I've started eating meat again I have noticed at least one change: my nails grow faster and are stronger than ever.

I like the stronger part. But I hate cutting my nails. I used to have to cut them like, once a month (I like to keep 'em short), but now I'm cutting them every week and that's even after I put it off...This is some annoying shit. I guess that means that I'm healthier, but I feel like a dumbass, I keep poking shit and scratching shit accidentally. I'm like an idiot who never had nails before.

Long nails make me want to barf. But cutting them takes out of my drinking/eating/interneting time. I know what I have to do. But I will probably put it off for another day.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Hey, motherfucking squirrels!

About a year after I moved into my apartment I accidentally left my back door open and a squirrel ran into my apartment. My landlord and I spent ten panic-filled minutes chasing it around with brooms until it somehow ran back outside.

Still, I didn't hate the squirrels. I just hated myself. Until this summer.

This summer was different. This summer my backyard was full of insane, half-tame squirrels. City Squirrels. They get too close. They have no Shame.

They live in my upstairs neighbors potted plants, harassing her, making her fear to leave her apartment. When I'm in my yard, they come right up to me. One fucking foot away. I hiss. I stomp. I charge. They still come back. WHAT THE FUCK?! Right?

So, this coming spring I have a plan.

This spring, I am going to buy a fucking squirt gun. Super Soaker style. And every time I'm outside I'm going to spray them. I bet they'll learn fast to stay THE FUCK away. I'll train them how to be feral again, and at the same time, improve my aim. Really, it's a win-win situation and no one gets hurt.

I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner.

People are stupid, probably.

One of my friends thinks that some skank her ex is/was with, will come into her work. I told her not to worry because she has a knife on her at all times (part of her job), and that anyone with half a brain would be smart enough to stay away.

Usually people are not that smart though.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

A promise to my future children (but not yours):

I spend a lot of time thinking about my Future Children. I mean A LOT. I hope they will someday realize this and understand that even though they will technically be 'unplanned pregnancies', they were actually thought about very much, even before they were a twinkle in their fathers eye. I don't know if that kinda makes them sort of planned, but WHATEVER.

So, I have a lot of bad habits.

I mean like, a lot.

And one of them consists of eating TONS of ramen noodles. This is probably one of the least bad, of my bad habits. I justify the salt consumption by never drinking the 'broth'. Seriously. I don't drink used hot juices...GROSS. Or used cereal milk for that matter (but that's a blog for a different day).

I'm dumb enough to binge on ramen noodles. And I'm really into 'instant' gratification (PUN!!!), so, basically, I can't stop. But I'm also smart enough to realize, very clearly, that ramen noodles are fucking bad for you (me), and probably shouldn't even exist for consumption.

So, this is my promise to my future children: I will probably, in secret, eat ramen noodles. Probably a lot. But you will never eat them. Not until you can go buy them for yourself. And I will tell you that they taste like hot worms taking a bath in salt-water, to discourage you from eating them. Hopefully for your entire life. I will also pretend to like raw celery and carrots to get you to eat them. YOU'RE WELCOME FUTURE CHILDREN!

CLICK HERE-will ya?

Sunday, October 17, 2010

I was too late...

I was walking Jackson Corndog today after work, when a little dog came running up out of nowhere and scared the crap out of me and Jack. Sometimes a few people around here, for some stupid reason, walk their dogs without leashes, but I didn't see anyone around.

So, I try to get this dog to follow us. But he just barks. And I'm like 'oh shit I don't know what to do'. So, I'm calling him like a freak and he is just yapping and cars are going by and I'm freaking out. So, I run Jack home, grab his leash off of him, fly back out the door and take off down the sidewalk only to see a car stopped in the middle of the road and a guy standing, looking in front of his car, and I hear a dog yelping.

He's like, 'Do you have a dog?'

I'm like, 'That's not my dog...Did you hit him? Is he okay?'

All I'm thinking is: 'SHIT FUCK. I SHOULD HAVE PICKED THE DOG UP OR I have to look at a dead dog and find some neighbor person and tell them their dog is dead SHIT FUCK'.

Then the guy is like, 'I ALMOST HIT HIM! I was going to take him. Do you want to take him?'

So, this guy has this dog on the floor in the back of his car and I'm trying to get the leash on him when this woman walks over and is all like, 'Do you have my dog?' And we're all like 'Yeah.' And the guy tells her that he almost hit the dog, and the lady just looks at her dog and is like, 'Oh Frankie, you so stupid!'

Then we realize the dog crapped in his back seat.

Then I walked away.

Monday, October 11, 2010

The old man routine?

I was about to ring an older gentleman up for some wine today when he stopped me and asked, "Are you old enough to ring this up?"

I replied, "Oh, indeed, I am more, MORE, than old enough."

And he said, "Then I want what you've been drinking."

I assured him that it was red wine every night and a high salt diet, lots of dark chocolate, lots of swearing, and a loud refusal to act proper and dignified.

I don't know if he believed me or not.

Age is hard on a woman...

Friday, October 8, 2010

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Jackson Corndog

My boyfriend has a dog named Jack, which he (my boyfriend), got drunk a week ago and tried to give me. I told him that he was insane. But what he doesn't know is that I already own at least 3 and a half of his (Jack's) paws; mainly because I take him for walks and buy him treats and let him lick my arm and stuff.

This is Jack:

This is how I see Jack:

Jack also likes to cross his paws all fancy style. My boyfriend says that he "Don't raise no 'mo's" but I like Jack even more for it. I don't like it when he (Jack) sneezes on my face. The end.

Monday, October 4, 2010

The nature of the season

As a kid, I used to be up all night with bloody noses. Hours spent in the bathroom bleeding out.

And every few winters or so, I get to relive it.

Winter has come early this year. And, my bathroom garbage-can looks like a crime scene.

I think I'm probably too old for this...

Saturday, October 2, 2010

In retrospect, I should have locked the door...

This morning I was in the bathroom.
My boyfriend comes running in, no knock (yeah, he usually knocks or SOMETHING).
Then he just starts telling me stuff.
And I'm instantly all like, "DUDE! I'M POOING!"
He just looks at me sitting there AND KEEPS TELLING ME SHIZ!
So, I'm all like, 'okay. i guess we just poo in front of each other now? um...?'
Yeah, I'm not all that comfortable with it either.
Eventually I had to interrupt him and was just like, "Okay, can we talk about this in a few minutes? I'm totally sitting here and WAS pooing when you came in and this is weird..."
I'll admit, I was either too sober, or not drunk enough to handle this whole 'let's talk while you poo' morning.
He, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed...

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Yeah, we work

my boyfriend: Emily...I don't know how you'll feel about this...but I think...I want to start wearing spandex...

me: Uh...what...why?

my boyfriend: For biking. It would be easier on my taint!

what I should have said: Tell that to your balls!

what I did say: Ummm...?

Monday, September 27, 2010


A couple months ago my sister told me that her boyfriend LOVED going to Costco. When I found this out I was overjoyed. I was like 'SWEET! Now I can have like a years worth of tampons for the cost of like six months worth of tampons!' (Or that is what I thought because I've never been in a Costco and I have no idea what the prices are like...but I imagine that the prices rule.) So, I was all like, 'Tell him to buy me a YEAR'S WORTH OF TAMPONS!'

She said he wouldn't because he doesn't even buy her tampons at a regular store. Fuck that shit. If your boyfriend won't even buy you tampons, then you might as well just get pregnant. (kidding [or am I?])

I hate running out of bathroom stuff. I hate buying tampons (because I only ever buy a month's supply), I hate running out of toilet paper, I hate running out of toothpaste...blah blah blah. You know, because I assume you feel the same way.

So, today I went to the dollar store to buy some tampons, the cheapest kind, because I feel like they should be free, because dudes don't have to spend shit on shit for their hygiene if they don't feel like it...And I bought a lot of cheap-ass tampons, and if the string breaks off, I'll flip my shit because that's never happened before, but I could totally handle it, but it would be lame, and I would write a very graphic letter to Femtex explaining what happened...BUT I DIGRESS!

The point is; that when I was reading the stupid insert about TSS on these cheap-ass tampons,(because, for some reason, I always do, and I also want to see how the diagram portrays a vagina/uterus) I discovered that they measure the absorption rate of the tampons with something called a "SYNGYNA test". WTF?!

Friday, September 24, 2010

Oh, food...

So, at my birthday party all I was trying to do was eat a delicious Chicken Chili Verde Burrito from Trader Joe's...It sounds so simple right? I hunker down, cut a piece (yes, I CUT burritos [Taco Bell taught me that food spills out of burritos {and I don't fuck with food stained shirts anymore}]). I put that first delicious bite in my mouth, and FUCK ME, I bit down on my lip piercing with my canine tooth hard enough to take out a huge chunk of tooth.

I mean, it's not that HUGE. I really have to point it out to people when I show them. And I show EVERYONE. Even strangers. I'm all like, look what I did to myself on my BIRTHDAY! Yeah, that's gonna cost a couple hundred dollars to fix.

And the worst part? I had to spit out that first burrito bite, because it was all full of tooth. Anyway, my lip piercing is dead to me. Forever. I'm done with that shit. You ruin even a bite of my burrito, and there's a Hell you have to Pay.

Enjoy this quote-out-of-context:

"But if I call my mom we can order pizza AND get abortion pills."

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Shrink Wrap: A thought and a dream

Every time I cut the shrink wrap off a pallet at work I think about how similar it must be to a doctor cutting open a person to do surgery. Then I think: this is the closest I will ever become to being a surgeon.


I saw three rats today. One was dead, but it still counts.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

erg. i hate flying.

So, now I am starting to freakout about this trip. Mainly because I don't want to die in a plane crash. I mean, it would be cool if the plane crashed and some type of "Lost" adventure ensued, minus all the death and shiz...and scary stuff...But since I'm not flying over an ocean, I don't even have that to look forward to.

The fact that I don't FULLY expect to die on this plane trip kinda makes me think that I totally WILL die on this plane trip. And the fact that I'm flying on such an infamous plane-death-day, makes me think I'll live, only to die on the return trip (which is a much less infamous death day...)

Since all of my worst fears come true, I would like you to know that if I DO die on this trip, I saw it coming for the most part. If I don't, well, I've been wrong before.

C'mon kids. Git it.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I can't get this out of my head. You're welcome.

Watch this first:

Watch this second:

A typical conversation

Drawer: slam

Other Drawer: SLAM

Cabinet: SLAM SLAM

Other Cabinet: slam BANG

Me taking a shower: Hey! HEY! Are you mad or something?

Boyfriend: WAT? Why are you asking me that?!

Me taking a shower: Because you're slamming drawers and shit!

Boyfriend: I'm. Not. Mad. I. Just. Don't. Know. My. Own. Strength. Emily.

True story. Based on facts.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Braggart, I know.

I've gotten sappy.

Maybe it's because my boyfriend brings me cheese fries.

Maybe it's because Corndog Fluffernutter is so damn cute when he crosses his paws.

Maybe it's because I put down 4 bottles of wine with my three favorite people in the world.

None of this means that I'm still not looking for a fight.

Because I would still break a bottle and cut you faster than you could blink.

This I believe.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

...and then I did a bunch of shit I said I would never do...

I started biking to work. Pretty much religiously, as long as it's not raining. It is 4.1 miles to and from work, which means that I'm biking 8.2 miles, five days a week. I was always afraid of getting hit or of something retarded happening to me, but, so far, so good...And it feels so good to be moving and doing something relatively healthy. Plus, I pass a Potbelly's Restaurant on my way home, so...SANDWICH ME!

I guess it helps that my boyfriend is a bicycle enthusiast, and he was willing to ride around with me and learn me things about the open road. As of right now, one of my favorite things to do is ride bikes all around with him. If that sounds lame, then sorry. I'm just having so much fun lately that I can hardly believe it. Seriously. SERIOUSLY.

And my phobic ass is going to actually get on a plane in about a month. Yes, I am going to go to California to meet my boyfriends family. I'm not even having panic attacks about it, I'm STRAIGHT UP excited. (I'll still get some sedatives though. I'm not Superman up in here).

It's crazy. All I want to do is eat chicken, ride bikes with my boyfriend and make jokes. Life is good.

I don't even remember how to cry.

Friday, August 13, 2010

What I think I look like when I get the hiccups:

Another 7-Eleven Adventure. Not.

Tonight I decided to indulge most of my worst vices...I went to 7-Eleven to buy cigarettes (ultra-lights [I AM trying to quit smoking you know...]), wine (4.99 bitches!), and lottery tickets (that's what poor people do!). And as obsessed as I was with getting there before they stopped selling tickets for tonights drawing, I realized after I left that I didn't remember if I had grabbed my keys to get back in my apartment...PANIC ATTACK!(My landlord's on vacation for three weeks and my boyfriend won't be home for like four and a half hours).

But after a frantic search, my auto-pilot apparently works and my keys were in my bag. Thank you Universe! I got locked out two weeks ago and luckily someone was around to let me in, but this could have been lame. I probably would have been found in my alley covered in my own pee, sweating to death while locals shot bottle rockets at my head and asked me for cigarettes and change. F that.

If I DO win the lotto, never expect to know. That's a promise I made to myself after I got like 5% common sense. I advise you to make the same promise to yourself. That's called 'advice', and if you know what's good for you, you would listen to me on this one.

Illinois OUT!

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Bit O' Perspective

One might be angry if one's boyfriend is playing a video game when one goes to sleep. Then when one wakes up for work at six a.m., said boyfriend is still playing said video game...

But as much as I like to get and give hugs and cuddles all night...I much prefer not being stabbed to death by a stranger who breaks in when the lights go off...

And that's called: having perspective.

What the FUCK was I supposed to do? ERG.

Oh. The bus...

I was waiting for the bus on my way home from work today. Totally in space. Reading something. Being hot in the sun.

Then this kid comes up to me and just starts talking. He tells me that he was going to meet his friend, but his friend wasn't there. And he asks me when the bus is coming. And he's just standing there.

It's the middle of the day and everything. But, I'm still like, shit, kid, why are you talking to strangers? (I didn't say that, but I thought it...)

So, at first I'm just kinda like, okay, I'll just keep an eye on him. I don't want any perv or weirdo to come up, you know?

Then he's asking me questions about my phone. And my bus card. And the internet. And telling me where he lives and who's he's visiting. And, I mean, I was talking to him, if for no other reason than for it to seem like we know each other. I didn't want him to start talking to a drunk or a weirdo...he was so friendly. Seriously, a real conversationalist. So, he tells me where he's going. And I'm keeping an eye out for his stop, and he doesn't know the street really, just what park it's by...And I'm thinking, should I tell him not to talk to strangers? Should I give him some life advice? What the fuck should I do? I mean, I'm fucking WORRIED about this kid...He must have been like nine or ten or the big city...alone, talking to weirdos.

I mean, this kid leans over in the bus and asks this girl wearing a Cubs hat who won the game...And then he asks her who was playing...Then tells her that he likes the Sox and not the Cubs...

So, we get to where I'm pretty sure is his stop and I tell him, 'This is your stop right?' And up he jumps, in mid-sentence. He says something to the bus driver. Gets off the bus. And proceeds to try to cross in front of the bus on a green light. I mean, I wanted to walk this kid home and have a word with his parents...

I don't know, you guys. I just don't know...

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Friday night: a night to remember

So, my little brother had a facebook status update. Then some kid born in 1994 started in with the rape jokes, which offended me. I am the only one allowed to make rape jokes, mainly because I hate rape so much! I'm sarcastic about it, which shows the general reader how very much against rape I happen to be.

As you can see, as I start to lose my cool, my awesome boyfriend comes in to save the day.

I'm still not sure if we're going to heaven or hell for this one, but since I don't believe in either, I guess I shouldn't worry too much.

Click on the images to make them BIGGER. Internet wars are lame. But lameness never stopped me from anything before.

(also, I apologize for the sloppy pics. I'm not good at MS paint. [or anything else for that matter])

Monday, July 19, 2010

A recipe for disaster: a lesson for the boys


The other day I left work early because I thought I was going to barf. Then I got home and had major diarrhea (whatevs, I can admit it). Then I took a shower and then took a nap.

Now, follow me on this one, my boyfriend's sister was visiting and he wanted to borrow a bike for her to use. One of his friends came through. She happened to be a former stripper. She was going to drop the bike off at our apartment. I had never met her...

Sooooooooooooooo. I woke up from my nap. To girls giggling in my living room. Then I was all like, oh yeah, that girl is dropping off that bike. Then I was like, oh yeah, she is probably super hot because of her old job and stuff. Meanwhile, I looked like total crap because I went to sleep with wet hair and diarrhea and was wearing stupid sleeping clothes consisting of shorts un-hemmed on one side, and some lame shirt. So, I'm laying there for five minutes trying to figure out a way to come out of the bedroom and not seem like an ass. And all I can think is: I'm not going to even be looking close to my 'personal best' in front of a hot ex-stripper, and I had DIARRHEA today, I suck.

Yeah, so I was just like, 'fuck it', came out of the room, was all like 'hi', and they were like, 'Sorry you're sick' and I was all like 'you have NO IDEA'. Just kidding, I was like, 'thanks, I feel better.' And they WERE SUPER HOT. And POTENTIALLY BI-SEXUAL. That seems like a super-threat for some reason...Then they left. So, I think I failed in trying to not seem like a snizz. But I wasn't mad or being a B. I was just feeling weird and mud-butty. In fact, I would like to pick her brain someday.

But anyway boys, it is probably not a good idea to have your super-hot ex-stripper friend and her (potential girl-) friend, who is also super hot, giggling at everything you say, as your sick girlfriend sleeps in the other room...Especially if she is insecure (which I am). But, I found the whole situation more hilarious than anything else. Still though, really, probably not a good idea. Unless your girlfriend loves to write stupid shit on a blog no one reads, then it is probably a good idea. Kind of.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Tooth fail

So, today I got the permanent cap on my stupid root canal. I had a temporary on for two months and it was kind of hurting and freaking me out. I like to say things like, "tell me the TOOTH" and, "you can't handle the TOOTH" when I'm having work done on my teeth. Mainly, because I have teeth on the brain (not literally of course...[I hope]). I was thinking really hard about how I could make one of those sentences into an entire blog when my mind started wandering and thinking about how retarded my stupid teeth can be and what a pain in the ass they sometimes are; like when they crack in half when I'm simply trying to eat a bagel sandwich, or hurt when I get too much sugar in them and stuff.

Then I had an epiphany.

A fucked up tooth is kinda like a bad teenager. Like if I was a bad parent (which I won't be), and my kid was all into shit, rotten shit, so to speak. Then my neglect of said teenager/child caused me to have to spend a ton of money to get them on the right track again even though he would never be the same nice, naturally pleasing person, he would have a tough exterior which looks like everyone else, but underneath he's gonna be all fucked up.

So, yeah, I learned a lot today. Like about parenting, from having a fucked up tooth. Also I'm kinda drunk. Don't hate.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

In which the murderee becomes the murderer

This little fucker got onto my ceiling today somehow.

(Can you see that my eyes are all fucked up? Because I barely can...)

I tried to ignore it, thinking it was a moth or some shit, but then I realized it was way too long and skinny to be a moth. Then I thought it was a bee. But it wasn't. Then I thought it was a hornet. But it wasn't. In fact I have no idea what kind of creature it was. It could fly. It was watching me. I needed to take a shower but he was blocking my way to the bathroom. I threw a shoe at him. Then I threw another shoe. Then a newspaper. He didn't even flinch. He was some kind of trained combat soldier terrorist insect. Fuck that shit. So I tried to wake up my boyfriend. But he told me to "...just come in here and sleep..." NO WAY! The second I turn my back on that little infiltrating asshole is the minute he flies into my glorious hair, or hides in my purse or on the bottom of the doorknob, or in my shoe or some shit. I'M NOT STUPID!

So, then I'm like FINE I'm a fucking feminist. I can fucking handle this. I don't need a GD man to go around killing giant freak bugs for me. I'll do it my god-damned self! So IRONICALLY I pulled out the vacuum.

Now, I'm smart enough to know that with both my hands on the vacuum I was leaving myself open to attack. But honestly I really felt like it was my only hope. All of my other implements were on the other side of the room, BEHIND the giant broom, my joke flyswatter, my spray bleach, my shoes...Oh the longing...So, up goes the vacuum hose and--


That little fucker didn't even move. He seriously thought he was stronger than a vacuum. I let the thing run for like 5 minutes before I turned it off. I don't need to deal with any giant bugs wedged in the hose, crawling out and nesting in my ear or some shit. Anyway, I tried to get a gander at him through the clear dust-holder on the vacuum, but he's hiding. That little shit.

Moral of this story: Time to get new glasses. And I'm FUCKING brave. And I still scream like a 50 year old man...

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Humor, wha?

So, the thing about humor is...Well, the happier you are, the less funny you are...I think. That seems to be the problem anyway. Like, all comedians are miserable, right? About their lives or something...But they are fucking hilarious. The more stressed out they are the more funny they are, because humor comes from the brink of shit.

And that's my problem. I'm too happy. Things are going too well. I'm trying to find something to be stressed about, but there is nothing. Like the stuff I could pick to flip my shit is so lame I could barf; "Oh, man, the coffee at 7-Eleven SUCKS!", or "My deodorant is MOSTLY working!", "I only have SOME delicious food!", "I'm getting SO MANY hours at work, my paycheck will be BIG!", "My boyfriend says things (after reading this over my shoulder) like, 'Sorry I fucked the funny out of you, SORRY!' " And it's true. I'm gonna be so not mad.

Hilarity. Oh well.

Monday, June 21, 2010

When I brush and floss

Every time that that I floss my teeth...Okay, let me start over. Sometimes, when I floss my teeth my gums bleed a little. Then I spit out that bloody spit and I think to myself, "This is the closest I will ever get to knowing what a prize-fighting boxer feels like."

Sunday, June 20, 2010


A little advice about paying

A few weeks ago I was at a gas station in my hometown buying Certs because I love them and I can't find them in Chicago. I walked up to pay as some dude was walking out the door. The cashier was staring at this guy then looks at me and says, "Fucking ASSHOLES who throw their money on the counter! I FUCKING HATE these assholes who can't just hand their money, they just FUCKING THROW IT DOWN!" She then proceeded to give the biggest eye-roll that I've ever seen, growl, drop a couple more f-bombs, then says; "Hi Honey, how you doin' today?"

So OF COURSE I said, "I'm doing fine. And I fucking hate when people throw their money down too. When I hand them their change I set it in front of them. They OBVIOUSLY don't want to touch my hands for some reason."

I keep my hands pretty clean and that cashier had clean hands too. So, I don't think it's us. People who just throw their money down for me to pick up are rude. And I am against people being rude.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Oh what? I have a bike?!

My boyfriend just bought me a bike. And if you knew me, you would know that I have avoided biking in Chicago because I don't want to get hit by a car and die. So, this is a big deal. Also, the bike he got for me is ridiculous, not because it's a bad bike or anything, but because it's so girlie.

So, it's this hot little number. Pink and grey. 10 speed. Huffy. I like it.

I think it's hilarious that a foul-mouthed asshole like myself is riding around on a little sweetheart bike. Every girl should have one feminine thing at least.

So, guess where I took my first bike ride to? Dunkin Donuts--for coffee and a BACON breakfast sandwich! When I said this was going to be a good summer, I didn't know it was going to be this good!

Cars better look out, cuz I'm not fucking around out there. You can tell them I said that.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

BACON! aka: The Gateway Meat

After being a full-on vegetarian for eight years and a partial vegetarian for five years before that, I have found my way back to meat. What caused me to change my eating habits? BACON! (And a seriously profound craving for meat over the course of the past couple of years).

I still feel bad about it (I never said that I wasn't eating meat because it didn't taste good), but it's pretty cool to rediscover all the new things I can eat. And I can be choosey...I used to, in my day, eat any type of meat if it was around. But, now I know that I don't like sausage that much, so guess what? I'M NOT EATING IT. Yeah, that's right. But I will eat bacon. On everything. At any chance I get. BACON, BACON, BACON!!!

I was never pushy about others becoming vegetarians, and I still think people should eat less meat (or no meat) generally speaking...But vegans? Ugh, give me a break. Never liked those motherfuckers too much...Never met a vegan that wasn't religiously trying to convert everyone and demanding everyone else to cater to their self-imposed dietary restrictions...Sorry vegans, but it's true. Well, I'm sure they're not ALL zealots, but...they kinda are...


Tuesday, June 8, 2010

A normal time at the local 7-Eleven

I just walked to my 7-Eleven to buy some smokes and what did I do, you ask? Well, I managed to knock over a stack of pamphlets onto the floor and dump the take-a-penny tray--all while pressing the wrong buttons on the credit card machine. After I got outside and lit up a smoke, I dropped it into my unopened umbrella. The cigarette then fell onto the wet sidewalk. Don't worry, I still smoked it. I'm hardcore like that.

My new favorite singer!

This is Katie Lee on the album, "Songs of Couch and Consultation", and it's the best thing I've heard in a while. ENJOY! (And try to ignore the lame graphics...)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

If Only Everyone Could Be SOOOO Lucky

A very dear friend of mine recently asked, "Are you happy?" I replied, "Why, yes, yes indeed I actually am." To which she responded, "Good, because I only want two things for my friends; for them to be happy and for all their exes to DIE."

Although, if everyone's exes left the country, that's pretty much like being dead. I'd settle for that one too.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

This is the WORST!

Ever since my boyfriend showed me this stupid thing, I can't get it out of my head. When I turn on a light switch I'm half expecting this freak to jump on my g.d. hand. EW.

Great. Now I'm not going to even want to look at my own blog.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

These Are a Few of My Many Smells

Remote: You smell like beer and cigarettes, you smell like a bar.

I *know* he thinks it's hot...

Saturday, May 29, 2010

My Favorite Piece of Shit Joke

I don't know why it always makes me laugh. Probably because there are so many levels to it with which I disagree. And it was told to me in sincerity...

Why did god give women yeast infections?

So they could know what it's like to live with an irritated cunt too.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Mop Bucket List! (dedicated to Mary C. [with love!])

1. Throw all the kids carts in the baler (CRUSHER!!!)

2. Use wine to mop up spills!

3. Eat all the samples and drink ALL the juice!

4. Reverse face all sections (labels in bitches!)

5. Ask customers if THEY can help ME!

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

A Day in the Life

Remote: You smell like pickles and cigarettes.

Me: I know you meant that I smell like a woman.

Monday, May 24, 2010

maybe i should go walk in the goddamn street

The FUCK Chicago?! Every time I walk down my street, some douche-lord is riding their bike on the goddamn sidewalk. It was mildly irritating the first few times, but now, it just pisses me the FUCK OFF. I can't even count how many times some asshat has almost ran me down from behind. Fine, if you're under 17 and ride on the sidewalk, but grown fucking men can navigate on the fucking street. I'd be safer on the road, walking next to traffic and goddamn parked cars. I'm walking and therefore the goddamn most important person. I don't care if that makes me PEDESTRIAN. I want to carry a stick and samurai-sword that shit in these goddamn motherfuckers goddamn spokes. Bitch.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Customers Are HILARIOUS! Sometimes...

Customer: Where are those...umm...dried cranberries?

Me: they are...*points at shelf*


Friday, May 7, 2010

Oh My! Tea Tree Tingle Shampoo...

I don't usually write reviews or anything. But Trader Joe's Tea Tree Tingle Shampoo is pretty awesome. It feels like I dipped my head in a liquid Altoid. It's going to be a good summer.

One of My Favorites

My friend Pit Pat was closing the loading door at work one day when, as it was sliding down, it knocked some boxes over. And after he closed it a girl walked into the back room.

Girl: What was that noise?!

Pit Pat: Do you believe in ghosts?

Girl: Yes...

Pit Pat: It was a ghost.

Monday, May 3, 2010

They Call it "Lost" Cuz That's What Happens to Your Days Off

Yeah. I started watching "Lost". I stopped being a snob and jumped right in. My days off consist of watching this blasted T.V. show. I need to find out what happens. Also, whoever writes this shit is probably the biggest douche-canoe because you just know that anyone that good at avoiding answering questions either worked for George W. Bush's administration, or should have.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

In Which I Remember That I am a HERO!!!

I was sitting around today thinking about how I wish I could be a hero. Then I remembered that I AM! Or was, depending on how you look at it.

Once one of my friends wandered off drunk around some train tracks...and about ten minutes later I heard a train coming, and remembered that he had disappeared. I searched for him and found him passed out drunk on the tracks. I couldn't wake him up. So you know what I did? I fucking picked that motherfucker up and carried him to safety. Guess what? No one remembers. But I do because I was mostly sober, and definitely more sober than anyone else there. So, YOU'RE WELCOME RANDY. And thank YOU for making me a life-long hero.

Also I once saved a nest of baby birds from being fed milk by an old crazy polish roof fixer. And not once, but fucking TWICE, I stopped traffic and carried turtles to safety. YOU'RE WELCOME BIRDS AND TURTLES.

But, saving people is cooler than saving animals. Unless the animal saved a person once, cuz then you kinda owe them.