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.

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...

A Day in the Life

Remote: You smell like pickles and cigarettes.

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

Customers Are HILARIOUS! Sometimes...

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

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

Customer: WAIT! DRIED POMEGRANATE SEEDS! THAT'S WHAT I NEED! SUPER-FOOD RIGHT? KEEPS AN OLD FUCKER LIKE ME ALIVE!

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.

Things Not To Say In Therapy:

Heath: I guess I do do that sometimes.

Me: Did you just say that you doo-doo?

Eat My Leftovers, Eat My Shit: A Choose Your Own Adventure Meal

Me: I’m so happy to be home! Time for my awesome pizza leftovers!

Heath: Um…I ate them…

Me: No you didn’t! *opens fridge*

Me: WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY LEFTOVERS?!!!

Heath: I just told you, I ate them.

So, now what? This goes on all the time and nothing is ever resolved. I finally, in a fit of rage and anger, came up with a solution…I says to him, I says:

“The next time I put leftovers in the fridge, I am going to put a little piece of my poo in them. Then you will learn.”

This seems to work. Maybe only if you are bat-shit insane enough to actually do it. (Which I am [and Heath seems to know this]).

Try it on your boyfriend/girlfriend/roommate or whoever it is that eats your leftovers. Just a helpful hint at taste bud joy from your friend, Emily Illinois. XOXO!

And Then I Walked Away

This happened at work the other day while I was leaving my register.


Customer: “I was worried that you weren’t old enough to ring up all this wine I’m buying.”

Me: “No, I’m twenty-eight, definitely old enough.”

Customer: “Yeah, I was gonna say, if you were seventeen, you’d look like shit.”


I’m sensitive about my age now. And my face.

In Which I Learn Something About Myself:

Last night Heath (my boyfriend) and I were sitting around eating apple pie. I remembered, after we had finished eating, that I had actually bought awesome chocolate earlier. Second desserts are a favorite of ours (mine, actually because I’m a glutton)… This is the conversation that followed:

Me: “HEATH! I have something for you!”

Heath: *narrows eyes and tilts head* “Is it a fart?”

I guess that’s what I say every time I fart.