People Watching Episode 2: Voters

Hi folks. Today in America, we vote! Here is a chilling fact that I cannot wrap my head around:

Both Obama and Romney each raised well over 800 million dollars for their campaign. The sad part is, one of these dudes is gonna loose, and that’s over 800 million dollars that was wasted. What can we even do with that much money?

We can buy every American an ice cream cone!

We can pay off 20,000 student loan debts of $40,000 or less (We could probably create the same amount of jobs…)

We could pay over 1 million people’s rent this month.

We could hire 8 million people to kick Michelle Bachman in the face for 100 dollars a pop. Or! Everyone in America could do it for about 2 dollars a pop.

We could feed some starving kids.

We could pay off a puny portion of the national debt.

Save jillions of feral kitties and doggies and build huge fun house complexes for them.

Which loser am I going to vote for? Jill Stein of course! I just can’t bring myself to vote for someone I don’t agree with. Its not like my vote counts anyway no matter who I vote for.

What else could we do with 800 million dollars?

http://elections.nytimes.com/2012/campaign-finance

Creepers Episode 4: The Needy Jerk Epidemic Part 1

Before I start, let me make it clear that I now have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is a man I that I pined over for too long while he ‘grew up’. He is still in the process, but everyday with him is a thousand times better than a million money-makin’ creep stories.

Nextly, lest us discuss the NEEDY JERK EPIDEMIC. Single ladies, (Even the not so single ladies) know what I’m talking about. (Yes, maybe even those heavy hitting Christian ladies whose parents pick out husbands for them might even know what I’m talking about…) There seem to be an abundance of men who are not only jerks, but then turn out to be really fucking needy as well.

Let me share a few examples from dating experience past:

Needy Jerk #1. College. 2009.: Let’s call him PRECIOUS. Yes. Precious. Precious bleached his teeth so frequently that they glowed in the dark and for some reason thought it was totally acceptable to don Abercrombie & Fitch from head to toe at the ripe age of 23. Precious was all douche-flirty at a party I was at. He told me I should be a model and then told my friend she should dye her hair back to its natural color. Not sure how this young lad obtained my number, but a few nights later I get a phone call from him asking if I could pick him up from the bar. My friend with dyed hair had ditched me earlier to hang out with some other needy jerk, so I was game for some chauffeuring.

I waited for him and saw him emerge from the bar literally beating drunk girls off of him. One stubborn one held on until he got to my car and he opened my door a crack and slid in and she just kind of eventually slid off. He skipped through the CD that was in my car and screamed like a small child: “OMG SNOOP DOGG!!” He gave me really botched directions to his house and when we finally got there he got all weird and handsy-hands and when he realized I was not into it he started BAWLING. I asked what was the matter and from his snot bubbled mumblings it was a cross between all of his past girlfriends cheating on him and his dad’s disappointment over his quest for a real-estate license. He still tried to get all handsy-hands despite his epic pity party, so I swaddled him in his cologne scented blanket/towel pile like a wee baby until he fell asleep and BOLTED.

The next morning, I was standing in on some retarded middle of nowhere college art critique when my phone would not stop going off. Low and behold it was Precious Captain Bleach Teeth. I got around to calling him back and he was exploding at me because apparently, somebody side swiped his roommates car, and the only logical suspect was little miss sober sensible pants me. He demanded to see my car… I said yeah go look it’s in the top corner of the parking ramp by that big black graffiti penis… He was like nooooo come over! I was like no way cry baby and hung up. The dude kept calling. He called for like 3 weeks ‘just to talk’. It was the freakiest shit ever. He’d be like “heeeey what are you up to? I’m going to the bar wanna hang out after?” Finally I just lied to him and told him I was actually a man with no penis. He believed me and I have not had to deal with him (Or return to that god forsaken middle of nowhere college) since.

More to come.

‘How Not To Get Fat At A Labor Day Barbecue’: What?!?!?!

I was checking my e-mail when this lovely article came a blazin’ through my feed. I decided to break it down for the faint of heart, or for those who don’t feel like reading 30 paragraphs of Mayonnaise is the Devil.

Before we get started, I will tell you the real secret to ‘not getting fat’ at a labor day barbecue. Or at all. Drink water all the fucking time. Dehydration happens way more often than we think. We often mistake dehydration for hunger. So. If you are hungry, drink 16 oz of water first. And if you are at the fatty pants labor day barbecue, keep chugging water the entire time. You’l be too full to indulge in seconds. Hopefully.

So! The article rambles on an on about how many calories are in each item. Well, of course they have calories, it’s real food your article is talking about here, lady. Not the tasteless fat free shit.

1. Mayo Based Salad: To each their own. I’m smart enough to be able to tell when a ‘salad’ is ‘swimming in mayonnaise’. That means it has a mayo based sauce, like potato salad or chicken salad. Luckily, You can either pass, eat a little or a lot, or choose a different salad. Obstacle avoided. Its not like you plan on pigging out on potato salad for the next two weeks.

2. Hot Dogs: Everyone who pays attention to anything knows that hot dogs are loaded with everything unpleasant but they taste so goddamn good. Eat one? Fine. Just don’t eat more than one. No news here, moving on!

3. Dip. Fuck you lady, I like my dip. I’ll eat 7 layer dip until I turn into a pinto bean. Loaded with calories? Yeah. The mayonnaise based dips. But don’t you go hating on beans cheese lettuce tomato chives olives and sour cream. Cause the only ingredient that will do nothing for you is the sour cream. The rest of those ingredients your body can use and poop out later.

4. Chips. Another no-brainer. As long as you come away from this barbecue not finishing an entire bag of chips, I will consider you unscathed.

5. Loaded hamburgers. Apparently a burger can run you up to about 700 calories. Well, I’m sure the number can be cut in half if you have a nice little 3-4oz  burger patty as opposed to the man’s man half pounder. Room for more calories!

6. Frozen Margarita and Daiquiri mixes. This lady says you should put a lot of liquor in each one so then you’ll magically limit your self to 1 or 2. This woman has obviously never drank before. She should have just said take a bunch of shots of low calorie Bacardi with a little sprinkle of mix added to it. You’re sloshed and it didn’t take 250+ calories to do it. Woot!

7. Baked beans. Okay, other than total fat-asses and baked bean enthusiasts, who honestly even eats AN ENTIRE 400 CALORIE SERVING CUP of baked beans? When there’s all this other stuff around are you seriously going to go beyond a spoonful of beans? That’s not even a cup. This lady is bean-biased.

8. Ice cream. Yeah I’m going to eat ice cream. I don’t care if its almost 600 calories for a monster serving that I won’t finish. Its the end of summer and its depressing.

9. Fried chicken. Apparently one piece of fried chicken is 300-350 calories. And apparently in this lady’s crazy world fried chicken must be the only food at this picnic because once again, unless you’re already fat, why would you load up on more than two pieces? And are you really gonna sit there and gnaw chicken to the bone when you have beans and dip to eat?!

10. Fruit pie. As mentioned before, unless I have a shopping bag for a stomach, I don’t think I will be indulging in fruit pie after my ice cream. Save it for the host’s leftovers. Their reward for having all these hungry creeps at their house.

Another perspective: It’s not like your going to down this 1500 calorie fest in one sitting. You’re at a barbecue. You’ll be there for hours. (1500 calories in 4 hours? that’s like 375 calories per hour. Do you plan on eating every hour on the hour for the rest of the day? I hope not. You’re safe.) Hopefully there’s more going on than everyone sitting around and eating. Hopefully that weird golfball attached to a rope game is set up. If you’re really that worried, you can always stick your finger down your throat and barf it back up.

Happy Labor Day! Stay Hydrated!

Creepers: Episode 2.2: The Beautiful Creep Makes a Move

I’m sure those of you who have read my other posts came across Creepers: Episode 2, the story of the gorgeous man who turned out to be more looney than a toon. Of course, I didn’t learn my lesson, so I went to hang out with him again.

Let’s begin our story with the fact that he texted me before 9am on a winter vacation day. Why any 20 year old guy would be up booty calling at 9am is beyond me. Hey freak don’t you know the sun out? Go back into your man cave until winter grants us a 4pm sunset.

Of course, upon arrival, our friend the gorgeous creep opened the door to let me in and before it even closed he had bolted to his bedroom. He was still in his short shorts pajama ensemble, and I’d imagine since it was now 10am and no one puts pajamas back on after a shower, his balls were still itchy.

We did some morning baking, and once we were all baked out we just sat there awkwardly, staring at the television, which was off. (I don’t mind awkward. In fact, I live for uncomfortable situations.) He toyed with his nuts while I poked around his DVD collection. The sun was out so I suggested we go for a walk and bake elsewhere. Judging by his famous ‘I may just shit my pants right now’ expression, that was going to be a big fat NO.

I sighed and poked around in my purse, hoping one of my ladies had texted me to hang out so I wouldn’t have to tell him the hurtful truth: ‘I’m bored and you haven’t made a move so I want to leave.’ When, suddenly, he spoke!

Him: “Sooooooooo… would you like to…….. give………. me a blow job?”

I honestly thought I was hearing things. No one actually comes out and says this to a woman, do they? I say nothing and look over at him and the ‘I just shit my pants’ expression crawls across his gorgeous face when suddenly, he blurts:

“I’M SORRY I CAN’T GO DOWN ON WOMEN!!”

What on earth is this man babbling about?! Convinced this was too goofy to be real, I closed my eyes and pondered if I should bolt out the door or jump out the window. Which exit would wake me up from this nightmare quicker? When I opened them, he was two inches away from my face with his eyes slit, mouth parted, and his tongue peeking out. I yelped like a lap dog and uncoiled from the position I was sitting in rather quickly, which launched him far far away to the other side of his shoe box room. I couldn’t help but wonder what his illusive brother thought of all this while he hid behind closed doors in the room next to us. (Never saw his brother. Heard him snoring once…at 6 pm… That was it.)

I informed him that it was time for me to go. (My excuse was that I wanted a sandwich, and he obviously did not have enough ingredients for me) He got all pissy-pants and said ‘See you next time!’

Unfortunately, this was the last time I would visit him. He had a few fights with himself in my texting inbox a few times after this however…

Find the first part of this story here!