Jerky Mc Jerkisen

I made the mistake of telling some people at my work about my fear of Aliens and I came into work to see this.

Unfortunately I cannot respond to this vagrant abuse because it is being done by my boss's eleven year old daughter. So calling her an asshole probably wouldn't fly. The worst part is I never specified what kind of aliens I am afriad of. Perhaps it is illegal immigrants?

Totally makes sense!

Luckily not everyone I work with is an asshole. I have a great friend, B, who picked a fight with some people at my work to get me a slice of my birthday cake that they didn't want her to cut out just because it was in the middle. She tried to make them see reason. (It was after all my bday cake too.) 

Unfortunately they were all,

"Wah, it would look weird."

And she was all 'Shut up and give me the cake!"

I give you, the cake.

 

Visually Dynamic...I need to stop using that phrase.

and my piece.

Yeah Bitches!

"What do we want? Patience! When do we want it? Now!**

Do you remember when you were a child and you had to wait sooooo soooo long for things like Christmas or birthdays or the anniversary of your first bird dying.

(We had a lot of dead parakeets in my home...but that is another post for another time...Also did you know that Budgies and parakeets are the same thing, just English slang according to my Harry Potter Website. I was always imagining a squirrel when some one said Budgies.)

Buffy the Budgie (David Boreanaz not included)

When I was younger I was obsessed with Jewel. The singer. The one with the funky teeth and yodeling voice. The one who wrote a poem about mustard in the refrigerator. (Yes I still remember- it's the important things that stick out to me.)


On her album Spirit she had a song at the very end that she sang with her mother. It was a lullaby that they would sing when Jewel was a child. To listen to this track you had to listen through three whole minutes of white noise before the song started.



Don’t say I was patient at some point. But now, alas I am not. I am a very spontaneous person and have been known to go out and chop off all my hair.

Well Sinead O'Rebellion. Shock me shock me shock me with that deviant behavior.

We have grown too used to getting everything right now. And this whole Twilight obsession hasn't helped me at all. Before New Moon came out I was inundated with pictures and videos and sound clips. (They're not Bears) It was a twi-overdose. It was to the point when I was carped out dreaming of boys with keg bellies and grandpa tweed...

Now there has been news that they will be reshooting some pivotal scenes for Eclipse. I hope to holy Hell that they don't push back the release date because if they do, I swear I will go absolutely ballistic. There is no punishment that will compare to the wrath I shall inflict on...Oh right like I could do anything...Shit.

Whatever. I'll be sending out serious passive aggressive vibes as I wear my Team Edward Shirt, with my twi-bracelet and my twi-scarf and my twi-necklace as I drive in my car with a Be Safe sticker on the back.

So watch it Summit. Cause this Bitch means business!

I typed in crazy and this was the first thing to pop up. I love it.

**Credit to Al Franken

I wish I had more gay friends

It seems to me that there is a world out there of gay men that I haven't quite infiltrated. The idea of being a fag hag has a glamorous vibe to it. I don’t know why, I think I just want it because I’m on the outside looking in. Let’s face it, try as I might I will never be a gay man. But I love anything that has to do with gay men. And I love, Love, love Margaret Cho….She is responsible for the line I use more often than any other to reference about a break up.




“I love you…but I’m not in Love with you….and you pee blood so later!”

I hope the aliens never come to get me.

Last night I was sitting in my disco tub with the Mr., drinking wine and looking up at the stars. Very romantic, I know. Now, a few days ago Mr. swears that he saw an UFO. Of course me being a fuck-tard, had to start asking him about Aliens. As in Extraterrestrials...as in martians…as in little green men as in…okay, I have no more names for them. I am undecided as to my thoughts on whether or not there are in fact aliens. On one hand it seems like the universe is very expansive and there would be some sort of higher being out there. On the other hand, I’m human, selfish, narcissistic and a bit of a douche bundle. Ergo; I am the highest being any where. Plus I’m American which means that there is no one more fantastic than me…Just ask me.

Although my theories on Aliens are not entirely formed. I have a huge fear of them. If in fact they are real, I have no doubt that they would kidnap me and torture me with things like the Macarena and anal beads bought at your local Castles…(Hey, they’d be investigating our lives, could you blame them?...Not that either one is my life…Fuck…)

Jousting set not included

The Mr. tried to explain why I should be afraid of the visitors from space because the chances of them being sadistic are low. Because friendly aliens are every where.



So, I am terrified by aliens. Ghosts not so much. The basic theories behind ghosts are that they at some point were human, like me. So on some level I’m sure I could related to them, although of course there would be that one asshole ghost who is like that guy at your Halloween party who dresses up as a cowboy, grabs his balls frequently and tries to explain the perks of fucking “a dandy donkey.”

She is really funny too!

But for the most part the ghosts would be fairly nice. With the obvious exception of the psychopathic ghosts. About 0.1 % of the Earths population is psychopaths. We're talking worse than your run of the mill Sebastian Valmount; no were talking Jame Gumb, starving women to wear their skins.

I reason that if the earthly realm has that many, that the ghost world would too. So I will take my chances, that I may some day run into a sociopathic ghost hell bent on killing me. Because that seems better than ET.

Get the fuck away from me!

Some witty title about country music

Is it just me or does the cute member of Rascall Flatts have mad gay face? I don't think he could be gay, because I'm pretty sure he married a super model or a stripper or something like that*. I don't remember…

Jo Don Rooney, I wish I could say I made that name up.

There was a point that I loved country music. My friends and I used to cruise around listening to Kenny Chesney at top volume. I dreamed of Tim McGraw and had a major girl crush on Faith Hill. I even went to see Rascall Flatts at the Tacoma Dome in 2005. Their song "I'm moving on" was a huge motivator in deciding to move down to Arizona with my husband. I enjoy partaking in the simpler things. Every summer we go out on the lake, drink Coors Light and burn to a crispy fuchsia.

This picture was taken after two bottles of gas station champagne and a smushed ham sandwich.

But around the time of the Dixie Chicks Top of the World controversy, I stopped liking it. I blame Toby Keith. He totally turned country music off to me. Now when I listen to country all I can think of is that man making comments about the Dixie Chicks (Who transcend country music) accusing them of being unpatriotic and even traitors for speaking their minds? I had thought that music could bring people together but apparently in some circles, country music is a good ol' boys game. It makes me sad.


[*just found out his wife was a playmate…and they named their son Jagger]

Samoas are yummy

So, it's my birthday. I've found that once you reach a certain age; i.e. anything above 21, birthdays aren't too exciting. You still have to work; you don't get to buy an excessive amount of scratch tickets and cans of Copenhagen for your father. You don't get to wear a velvet dress anymore. (Side note—I totally had one too. And I was a hottie in it, but I digress.) You don't get a piñata or tickets to visit your neglectful mother in Florida. You don't get attacked by a hot guy with a bad toupee. You can't try to seduce your cold skinned boyfriend who is protecting his "virtue" whatever the fuck that is…You don't get dream catchers from muscled boys who speak basic Spanish. Oh wait. That wouldn't happen to me at all...

Do I need to knock a bitch out to wear velvet again?

Instead, I have to work, which is fine I suppose. I have gotten some pretty sweeet presents including a wilted daffodil and dollar store lotion. Ah, the perks of teaching two year olds...At least I get to gorge myself on Girl Scout cookies.

See even Rob likes them. He wants me to have a happy birthday...

So to be as narcissistic as I am. Happy Birthday to Me!

Northwest Profile-angry at Twilight

As a girl who has resided in the Pacific Northwest for 24 of my 25 years. I am a Western Washingtonian through and through. I can pronounce Sequim and Puyallup. I have never used an umbrella and can identify at least five different names for rain. Full list here Now, up here we have these hilarious commercials from Pemco. Northwest Profiles. They feature things inside jokes such as "Sandals with socks guy" (My Dad) and "Ski's in Rain Guy" all people I know quite well. Now because as a people we are quite pretentious. I give you my list of why Twilight pisses me off. I admit I am rambling and a huge whiner. But this is my blog and I'm going to do what I damn well please.


1. There is no bridge like the one in the opening credits near Forks. The bridge featured is the Bridge of the Gods over the Columbia River, between Washington and Oregon. The story behind this bridge is fasinating.

2. In the movie, Charlie makes a comment about Kitsap County sheriff. Now, as a local of the fine county I was glad for the publicity, having the last mention be in Walking Tall. (Which is not a favorable movie.) Now geographically there is a large county between Clallam and Kitsap. Jefferson County. I am very fond of this place, as it housed many a party where we all drank beer from a keg attached to a four wheeler. Ah, the good old days.

3. Forks is hyped to look very exciting. It is in fact a very nice small town which until Twilight came out was touted as the "Logging capital of the World." In the NW, loggers are our version of Cowboys. He don't have hicks, we have loggers. So in fact it more like this-



 And lastly. And I stress this is the most important point. YOU CANNOT DRIVE TO CANADA! No, you have to take a ferry from Port Angeles to Victoria. If you wanted to drive or run to Canada you would have to cross over three counties until you are in Seattle. Don't believe me? Take a look at a map.

As I peruse the internet

I should be working on my story now. I have the time, my hair is literally in curlers (I feel very Bloggess esque.) and I am wearing an oversized bathrobe. On a Friday night. The Mr. is taking a nap, because that's what we do, we nap.

But I digress. I should be working on my story but instead I was looking at funny pictures on the internet and  was stalking people on twitter...when this little gem came up....
Promtacular

Now, I am no fashionista, but that prom dress is rocking it. Much more so than that sad excuse for the TJ Maxx 39.95 special they got for the movie.

I'll take good care of her...because I'm certainly not doing her in that dress...

I kid I kid, sort of. I guess I can't talk; I too am guilty of a fashion faux pas or two. My prom dress made me look like Barbara Eden. Or Christina Aguilera. Whichever.



(A friend actually wrote that I was 'a genie in a bottle at prom')



No what bothers me is that so far in this series they haven't lived up to my costuming dreams. Where is crazy Alice shoving Bella into wild couture?

that’s more like it.

And don't even get me started on the Alice in Wonderland get ups from the vision...Ugh.

Grammar Phonic electronic disco baby

Exactly what I would do. I'm a snatch like that.

At work I am well know as being that twat who goes around correcting grammatical mistakes. Like a ninja, I sneak around and change there to they're. I correct alot to a lot. It is a well known fact, I try to hold my tongue but I can't handle it when mistakes like these are being made. Plus we're teachers. We are in charge of the future of America and some of us don't know the difference between your and you're. That being said I can't for the life of me, spell weird right. (or is it wierd...I should only say odd from now on.) or spell separate. FYI when I went to spellcheck this Word wanted Separate to be Penetrate. Awesome.

I have a story published on Twilighted. It's called Runaway (Pimp out). I have had some issues as of late regarding getting it published because apparently i suck at punctuation. While most constructive criticism I take well, this was hard to deal with. Me? I have never made a punctuation mistake. (I realize how many there are in this post alone.) I'm the girl who actually got a "get out of jail free" card in English because I corrected something SHE wrote. True story. So I have trouble digesting the idea that my story needs work because of punctuation. Luckily my beta is fabulous and basically has been whispering sweet nothings to me for the past few days so that I don't throw my lap top off a bridge.