Manichevitz and the Sun

Did you just grab my butt?
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I'm not actually in Miami, but I'm pretty darn close. I missed not being able to write in my blog at work today.

I hated being on 2 airplanes today. Such a shlep. And those little planes scare me. I felt like any second I was going down with the Big Bopper and Richie Valens. But I instantly met a "single-serving friend" who was reading a dummy's guide to the bible, which I just thought was so interesting to bring on the plane and maybe even a little comforting. She practically told me her life story about her and her son and her friend that she was seeing, and I added my random thoughts here and there. And that was that. But all that airplane, searching, taking off shoes, stowing crap was worth it in the end because I got to see a really pretty sunset in Florida and it's probably the nicest night. Ahhh.

Tomorrow I'll be swimming in a heated pool in 75 degree weather. Double ahhh.

I probably won't blog again until Monday because I'll be doing the horrah and getting blitzed. Word.

It's stooltastic!

That's not the type of stool I'm talking about.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I'm old fashioned. I like to say shit, or crap, or corn nuggets. But, ever since I've befriended Nicole and all her weirdness, she's introduced me to probably the grossest word ever for taking a dump.

Stool.

She loves the word. And whenever she has to take one, which is way too often, she loves to instant message me about her 15 minute session with the porcelian bowl and the little covers that will forever mock me. Like I want to know when she's gonna stink up the bathroom that has no magazines unless I put them in there. Well, she loves the word so much in fact that she wanted to write a blog about it. And since she's too lazy to make her own damn blog, she asked if she can borrow my blog for her essay on Stool. So, now for your reading pleasures, I present you with Nicole's blog on stool. Feel free to print this out at work and read it while you take a huge fuck off crap.
I know I will.


Be Thee Not Afraid of the Stool - Just Let It Out!

Ok, here's my first attempt at a blog. Really it's just a piggyback off of Barrie's blog. I'm not bold enough to be a regular blogger, and I don't expect people to actually take interest in, let alone react to, my day to day absurd thoughts. But I just wanted to write about this certain subject that everyone does but no one talks about, except me and Barrie and a handful of others.

So, the stool. Why do we quiver, snicker, look the other way, or say
eeeeewww gross (that's Barrie). Fact is, we all stool. Now what I have
a problem with is the fact that I can't even let it out when someone
else is in the same bathroom as me. It's like I feel like they've
looked under the stall at my feet to determine who I am. And I always
force it to wait to come out until someone has left the bathroom,
turned the sink on, or flushed the toilet. Now I could just go to
another floor, like a certain someone I know, just to spare the chance of embarrassment or whatever it is. But I refuse! I tried it a couple times and it's just absurd! I have to walk all the way downstairs, remember that the girl's room is on the opposite side, and then it doesn't even have that nice artificial, inviting smell of Meijer brand cinnamon spray. I admire those women, one in particular (I won't
mention at the chance of being dooced), who can just command a bathroom, take a crap, expel gas ranging all octaves and come out and ask you about work or comment on the weather. One day maybe I'll be more like her, until then I can't say. I'm working on it.

People that might hate me.

I have nothing to say underneath this picture.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

Ever since my little hate comment, I've decided to make a list of people that might hate me. Really, I'm hoping they don't hate me anymore because whatever I've done to them I'm sure they forgotten about it and most likely they've forgotten about me. Which makes me happy, because I've discovered that it takes way too much time to hate someone. It's a lot easier to let go. Now that's I've become one with the world whilst doing my downward facing dog whilst farting, here's my list (without names, because if it got back to these people I wouldn't want them to hate me again.)

People who might hate me:

1)That chick in college that I had beef with over a guy, but really the beef was over our friendship and all her lies, thus in a drunken blur I threw a beer in her face and just made a mess of a situation. Still it's a good story to tell my kids one day. "Hey, your mommy was in a girl fight, and I got kicked out of a bar. Omm."

2)Nik's friend, who I wrote a nasty little incrimidating letter to. He stupidly threw out every single contact I had made in advertising after Nik and I broke up, and needless to say I was pissed. But I told him I'd do crazy girl blackmail type things, and of course I never did, but I'm sure he was pissed and probably hated me for at least a few minutes.

3)Anyone who doesn't use their blinkers or who stops for no apparent reason. I curse at you all the time, especially if you're an old little wench. I can't help it. You can't drive and I'm too impatient to deal with your shit. One time I cursed a guy out and he noticed and followed me. He hated me for sure.


Only number 1 and maybe 2 might really have hated me. Number 3, um, not as much, for obvious reasons. But I got sidetracked with lunch, and people coming to my cube, and plus having more than 3 people really hating you probably isn't a good thing.

Peace.

Yipee! My very first hate mail.

Okay, it's not really mail, but I sort of consider my little comments mail, so there. But it was hateful, and I loved it! Keep um coming, Mr. Anonymous. I'm glad you took the time to read my crappy blog to actually go to the comment page, waste your time writing it, and then going on with your pathetic life writing sad comments on other people's blogs. You rock da hizzouse. For anyone who doesn't read my comments because they're usually from Maya (hi!) or Nicole (yo!), here's what Mr. Anonymous had to say to me:

Crap blog. I hope you catch fire.

Wow! Not only do I have a crap blog (which is true. it's crap, pure crap. i should never write again. boo hoo. can you see me crying at my cube? you're fab!), but this person who doesn't even know me (or does he/she??) would actually like me to catch on fire. Is that really necessary? He could've just left it at crap blog, but he "hoped" I caught on fire. Man, I "hope" I'm not around any matches or gas stoves anytime soon because if I do catch on fire I know I can thank Mr. Anonymous for all his warm wishes. Warm wishes- get it?

Let me just spit on a napkin and get that shit off of you.

Um, there's something on your face. Not there.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

My art director always sends me interesting stories about wierdos, and people getting fired for smoking cigarettes in the privacy of their home (which is ludicrous, by the by). But this one is, hands down, the most messed up thing since the crack sandwich (see link in the corner, no, down there- crack rules!).

This moron, if he even deserves that as a name, is selling "space" on his face for advertising. Now, I thought those losers who drove with pepsi logos tattooed all over their Ions were just making a quick buck while enduring the smirks every passer by would give them because they didn't want to strip like any other normal college adult. But this guy has taken advertising just a little too far. I mean, what if he doesn't go out for a month? I wouldn't if I had SNORESTOP imprinted all over my oily skin. All I know is if this guy is married/dating, then I'm totally doing something terribly terribly wrong.

Andrew Fischer (A.K.A. crazy bastard), 20, of Omaha, who put his forehead for sale on eBay as advertising space, received $37,375 on Friday to advertise the snoring remedy, SnoreStop.

I just hope Mini Cooper doesn't hire little people (is that what I'm supposed to call them today) to advertise the smallness of their fun little deathtraps.

Snow, more like noooooO!

Mommy, lookie lookie.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

If you're wondering who that petrified 26 year old girl is, well, it's me. Little 3 year olds were going down the hill doing headstands and shit while I look like a grandma holding on for dear life. This was the second time I've tried sledding and actually it was a lot of fun, except for climbing up that damn hill 4 times. Good thing I quit smoking cigarettes, because this is not a sport for people with smoking induced asthma. (FYI- I was gonna use the word emphasema instead of smoking induced asthma, but I can't spell and either can my art director, so asthma it is. Now back to your blog....).

So, after a good hour of sledding, Mark and I headed back to our warm home, whilst listening to NPR, some chick says Johnny Carson beafed it from emphasema (I really should learn how to spell). I immediately called my mom, cause I knew she'd freak. She always goes balistic whenever I tell her some famous person dies. Like she knows that guy. So, I told her, and indeed, you'd think I told her my grandma died again. I think she dropped the phone and a little whimper creeped out, but that's my mom for you. Hopefully, that funny bastard is laughing it up and maybe even interviewing dead people.

That's all for today. I smell a lot of work coming my way.

P.S. What I really couldn't believe about Johnny's passing, was that Ed McMan is still kicking. I mean that dude is still passing out checks to people in trailers like everyday.

Dude, you're getting a little pregnant.

Awe, he's glowing.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

What the fuck, right?! Maya sent this to me and I totally freaked out. How is this possible? Why would this dude do this? Can he see his toes? Does he have to pee every 10 minutes? And why did I buy into this bogus site for so long? Check it out for yourself and you'll be totally confused, dumbfounded and duped all at the same time.

http://www.malepregnancy.com/

I NEED TO MOVE.

I knew I lived closed by, but this is ridicilous.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I'll give you something that isn't so greattt, you optimistic bastard.

Can't it just be good sometimes?
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I've decided to not be so hard on myself. I'm pretty optimistic when it comes to giving advice or hearing someone else's situation, but for me, I always feel doomed. So, I'm stopping that. I'm making a list of only good things. And maybe these things aren't all that great to you, but they are to me so ____ (haven't picked a new word yet).

Things I'm pretty darn good at:

a) Singing in the car. I actually can only do this really well if I'm by myself. It's weird, but I just don't care if people are laughing at me in the car next to mine because I figure I'll never see that asshole who doesn't know how to use his blinker ever again. And if this makes me more peaceful while I have to drive next to you, then I think we're all a little safer because of it. So there!

b) Crying. Now I know you're probably thinking, "Is that something to be happy about?" And to that I say to hell with you. I like crying. I can do it like all the time. I'm not depressed (at least I don't think I am), but sometimes I just like thinking of sad things and this makes me cry. Or I'll think of happy things and boom! Tears start rolling like magic. I hide it pretty well too. When I cry in my 4x4 cube no one notices and for some reason I take pride in hiding that. I pull the old cough when I fart trick and people just think my nose is all stuffy thanks to the frickin' cold weather.

c) Watching TV. Talking about being a master of something. This is my forte my friend. I love it. And I'm really good at using the remote too. I can maneveur the page up and down keys like its no ones business. Plus, since my job is making commercials (or at least hopefully making commercials) then I feel like I'm actually doing my part within my job and am in some small way making my life as a copywriter a little better. For me at least.

d)Making lists. I make lists for lists. I'd list everything if I could. I never used to be this organized. It just started happening one day. Maybe it's my anal retentiveness sneaking out. I try to push it in, but once in a very navy colored moon it sneaks in and takes over. Anyway, and to add to the goodness of things, I'm pretty darn good at doing everything my list tells me I must do.

e)Being creative. I'm no artist. I don't even really consider myself a writer. But I love being creative. I love tie-dying t-shirts. I love doing random projects that I find in my Readymade magazine that I steal from Mark all the time. It makes me happy that even when I can't do something well, it really doesn't matter because I'm being creative. Sometimes I'll even wake up in the middle of the night to draw (which I don't do well either). It's like some kind of surge that totally takes over me and I love that about myself.

f) Working out. This is another new thing for me. It started like 2 years ago, and I was doing it more for making friends/I should probably make my boniness more tough kind of thing. Now I'm totally addicted and just can't get enough of it. If I don't work out 5 days a week I feel completely lazy and tired. It's part of my routine and it's all mine. I get to read my mag/book and listen to the news and I don't have to talk about work or talk about advertising (which is work) or about Nik or about my crazy family. I can just sit on my bike and be happy. And I love it.

That concludes the things I'm good at. There should probably be more, but it's 5:15 and there's still work that needs to be done. So, peace.

DAMN IT TO HELL!

I posted the same shit in your pants funny blog 3 times, and it won't work. What gives blogger? Why do you hate me so? WHHhHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

Suck it is now retired, forshizzal.

Never trust an art director!
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

Maybe if I did meet Snopp I'd take off my top, but most likely I'd just smoke a fatty with him and constantly ask him to repeat himself. Thanks Debbie for the birthday wishes and the handy photoshop skills that will one day land you a job.

Now, to what I want to discuss. I've decided to retire Suck it and Shove it. I know some of you might be sad, but with a new year and the fact that I'm older and maybe even a little wiser(how are you supposed to feel when you're 26? hopefully if feels a lot like 25)I decided there needs to be a change in my vocab. And since Peace out will stay with me forever, shove it and suck it will have to die.

First, I'd like to apologize to both phrases. You've been there for me when no one else has. You've made me laugh. You've made me cry. You've even taken long walks on the beach with me, and cuddled afterwards. But you totally suck now so you must die a quick painless death. With that said, I need some options for other words to use. Here's a quick list. If you have any more you'd like me to repeat over and over again, feel free to contribute your thoughts on that comment thingy below. May the best phrase win.

Phrases to replace suck it and shove it:

a) What the frick?
b) What the fuck do you know anyway?
c) That's ridonkulous.
d) You fool. You stupid, stupid fool.
e) How's that for kicking your ass.
f) all of the above..
g) none of the above..
h) shovck it (my personal fav)

Okay, now vote you stupid, stupid fool.

The Brita Debacle

Ew, you're gross.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

So, I've gotten a few remarks about a side comment I made on a previous blog. I apparently am the grossest human in the entire world for putting my used water back into the Brita. And here's what I have to say about that. Shove it. (I need to find a new word, I know. I'll think about it, oh no, wait, I won't.) I'm not spitting or farting in the Brita. I'm just not letting it go to waste. I just think everyone, including myself, probably waste a lot of shit. I, for instance, waste a lot of dental floss. I go way overboard on that shit, but it's just so damn minty and my teeth feel so clean. So, by pouring whatever water I didn't drink back into the brita is just my little contribution to the world. If it bothers you, well then don't drink my damned water. Even though it's probably purer than that tapped shit you and the rats share. Mwhaha.

P.S. Does everyone else hate saying the words "my ex-boyfriend" as much as I do. It's not the feeling that goes along with it, as much as the actual words. I rather just say Nik, or asshole, or that dude that dumped my ass and wasted 3 years of my life (am I bitter yet?), but when my newfound Michigander friends don't know who Nik is I have to constantly say, my ex or my ex-boyfriend and I just find that to be as cheesy as when girls constantly say, "Me and my boyfriend did this and Me and my boyfriend did that." Ugh. I want to slap those kind of girls. That's enough for now. I have to go get drunk because it was my birthday yesterday.

Mommy, I'm sick.

At least I'm don't feel like this poor bastard.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I hate feeling sick. I swear I think I'm sick because God doesn't want me to turn 26 tomorrow. I can see it now. I'll be watching Lost tonight, and bam! I'm dead. Just a few short hours before I'd be leaning towards 30 (ugh- 30).

And not only am I sick, but I think I'm going crazy too. I took my nighttime Tynelnol like a good girl, and fell fast asleep until around 3 am when I woke up. I thought, "Well it must just be my nose, or the wind, or I farted in my sleep again. I'll be back asleep in no time at all." So, I just lied there with my eyes closed, not sleeping for 3 more hours. At 6, I said fuck it and decided to go to work because I was so pissed at myself for not being able to sleep.

Going to work was the worst decision I made and I don't advise ever doing this, because now it's 4:15 and I'm so tired I don't even know what I'm writing right now (not that I usually do) and I'll probably be here for another 3-4 hours. Ugh.

The one good thing that came out of my random awakening, was that I woke up thinking about my good television friend, Mr. Wizard. That old bastard kicked so much ass that even though I despised science and the thought of protons made me want to hurl, I still watched his little apprentices make tornados in 7-up bottles with absolute amazement. And the geniuses who thought up his name get kudos in my book. Not only is he a wizard, but he gets the Mr. title so no one fucks with his shit. I mean Mr. T has nothing on this badass mofo (what does the T stand for anyway- probably Mr. Tootles or something silly like that). You rock, Mr. Wizard.

She must be smokin' the crack?

I tried to photoshop my face here, but I'm not an art director so this is what you get. Suck it.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

When I found out that Brad and Jen (yes, I refer to them by their first names, because I feel like I could be friends with them so shove it) were joining the 52% of "oops, i married the wrong person and wasted all that money on a huge fuck off wedding that cost more than ebay auction of a grilled cheese sandwich with the mother mary on it", I was foolishly shocked. I really thought this one would work. They seemed like they actually had their shit together. And The Today Show even had pictures of the coupledoom holding hands and kissing a day before the news leaked out. What went wrong? Here are my theories:

A) She realized that he's way to hot for her and couldn't handle it.

B) He had this empty feeling and these weird dreams about a girl that lives in Michigan who has short hair and glasses. So, he's trying to hunt her done and Jen was just getting in the way.

C) He's secretly gay (gasp!).

Any other theories, please share with me and possibly the world. You don't just divorce Brad Pitt. You just don't.

I want a kick ass crib.

The roof the roof the roof is on fire.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

So, I decided to burn down my house thanks to the people at extreme home makeover. I watched the show this Sunday as this sweet little family who had nothing after their house was burnt to bits, to having the most kick ass house I've ever seen. I mean for real, Ty must have spent at least 3 mil on this house. And then all the extra shit they get, like a sailboat and scholarships and clothes and a bed and breakfast wing. Ty, I have dreams that aren't fulfilled. I live in a modest home and I think about the Tsuanmi victims. I'm a decent person. So what does it take to get that kick ass house? I guess I'll just burn my rental down and hope Ty will come with that annoying blowhorn and a 700 man crew to crib my shit up. P.S. No posters of Scarface please.

And other shit like this.

Luke, I'm not really your father.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

Yesterday I was thinking (shocker, I know) about my bookmarks/favorties on the Internet. And then I thought about the movie High Fidelity, when John Cusack talks about how he's shallow because he believes that who you are is what you actually like. Movies and books actually define who you are. I think he's on to something. But he left out bookmarks/favs. Anytime I see something I like I bookmark it, because I spend at least half of my day in front of this damn computer that I might as well take mini breaks every 15 minutes to enjoy The Onion and other shit like that. So, here's a list of websites you should take the time to look at so you don't kill yourself at work from being wickedly bored. Ooh, and thanks to Maya I'm now on her website. I'm secretly excited because that means that maybe more people will actually read my rambling shit.

www.rathergood.com (If you enjoyed those sick Quizo ads as much as I did you'll love this.)

maddox.xmission.com (I'm jealous because Carl owns a Maddox t-shirt and I don't.)

theonion.com (Unfortunately I haven't found a free issue in Michigan. Michigan sucks.)

imdb.com (After watching The Life Aquatic I couldn't believe that Bud Cort was that old dude, so I checked imdb and indeed it was. Geez. How old is Harold and Maude?)

www.speedysanta.com (Beat 8 seconds biotches)

mayarn.typepad.com (For knitters and props to Maya for including me on her site)

www.adholes.com (For adgeeks)

http://www.liquidgeneration.com/home.asp (for mindless fun)

http://www.clientcopia.com/quotes.php?cid=452 (for people who hate clients)

www.adweak.com/ (more adgeeks shit)

http://gawker.com/ (if you're bored with the onion)

http://www.boston.com/news/odd/?p1=Oddsamp;EndsBanner (thanks fellow blogger)

If you have any others to suggest, please let me know. I'm always looking for new, fun crap to read.

Now, for changing the subject....

I always pour my leftover water that I didn't drink back into my brita jug. Is that weird/gross, or am I just being overly conscious for the enviroment.

Thanks Carl.

Missing Groove. Will Reward if Found and brought back to Stella.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I've been too busy that I haven't read my email in awhile. So, thanks to my friend Carl and all his randomness, I introduce to you (or maybe just me? considering anyone else is still bothering with this blog) the Stella Awards. And don't worry, these awards have nothing to do with Whoopi Goldberg or grooves or How people get those grooves back.

ANNUAL STELLA AWARDS~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Stella's are named after 81 year old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee on herself and Successfully sued McDonald's. That case inspired the 'Stella Awards' for the most frivolous successful lawsuits in the United States.

THIS YEAR'S AWARDS GO TO:

5th Place (Tied)
Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $780,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably
surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving toddler was Ms. Robertson's son.

5th Place (Tied)
19 year old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman apparently did not notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal the hubcaps.

5th Place (Tied)
Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania was leaving a house he had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage door to go up since the automatic door opener was malfunctioning. He could
not re-enter the house because the door connecting the house and garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation and Mr. Dickson found himself locked in the garage for 8 days. He subsisted on a case of
Pepsi he found and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner's insurance claiming the situation caused him undue mental anguish. The Jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.

4th Place
Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas was awarded $14,500 and medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next door neighbor's Beagle dog. The Beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been a little provoked at the time as Mr. Williams, who had climbed over the fence into the yard, was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.

3rd Place
A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier, during an argument.

2nd Place
Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware sued the owner of a Night Club in a neighboring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and knocked out two of her front teeth. This occurred whilst Ms. Walton was trying to sneak in the window of the Ladies Room to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses

1st Place!!!!!
This year's runaway winner was Mr. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Mr. Grazinski purchased a brand new Winnebago Motor home. On his trip home from an OU football game, having driven onto the freeway, he set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the driver's seat to go into the back and make himself a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly the RV left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mr. Grazinski sued Winnebago for not advising him in the owner's manual that he could not actually do this. The jury awarded him $1,750,000 plus a new Winnebago Motor home. The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit just in case there were any other complete morons buying their recreational vehicles.

Reality TV. More like ity TV.

It ain't real unless it's on TV.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

So, I admit it. I'm a huge fan of reality TV. I watch Survivor, Real World, Real World/Road Rules Challenge, Project Runway, the list goes on and on. So, when I watched The Today Show yesterday morning I was appauled to find out about this new reality show called Who's Your Daddy? I thought they were kidding when they were explaining the premise. Some poor adopted chick has to correctly pick the one dude out of 8 smucks that might be her biological daddy. And if she guesses right, not only will her biological family be complete, but she also wins 100 grand. WTF?! Are the alphabet channels that desperate for ratings that even adopted kids get to be famous. I mean I'm sure these adopted kids are already fucked up as it is from dealing with the fact that their parents didn't want their ugly ass, but let's toture them some more by making the search into a fear factor competition.

So, I had to watch it to make sure this show was for real. And in fact, it wasn't. I mean, maybe the show was for the real. I'm assuming the people were real people and not aliens, but I was confused. The whole show seemed too staged. The adopted chick seemed like she was acting. She even walked very dramatically, like she was following some script. And then after I watched that crap-o show, I tuned into Love is in the Heir which is on E! (how exciting is that letter anyway?). And I was confused with their concept as well as a reality show goes. A princess has to find love and a job in 6 weeks or its her ass back in some foreign country with mummy and daddy. What kind of parents give a time limit on love? And everything the princess does is way too staged, right down to her gayish assistant. I mean I know that nothing in reality tv is real, blah blah blah. But can't they at least sort of fake it a little just for my amusement at least. What's worse than reality tv that isn't all that real in the first place, is reality tv with paid actors making it seem like it's real when it's really just plain brown gooey crap.

Who wants to not date me?

Ugh. Dating...
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

I hate dating. It seems too frustrating for me. I don't like the interviewy process that's involved. I haven't dated in so long that I know I'd fuck it up majorly. And even if I wanted to date, there's not a single guy out there. Every guy at work is married or the complete opposite of my type, so that's out. The few friends I have don't have dateable friends, so I'm screwed (no pun) in that department. So, how the hell am I supposed to meet someone in Michigan of all places. Maybe I'll take up hunting (poor bambi) or maybe I'll pray to get stranded on island with the Party of Five/Lost hottie.

I mean I know I'm decent in the looks department. I'm sort of shy, but not too shy where I can't have a conversation. I'm smart. I like music and movies and can pretend to talk about politics. I can be lazy or active depending on the day. I even like video games! My main downfall is sports. Hate them. Don't like talking about them. Don't like watching them. Don't give a shit about them. But besides that, I'm a catch. And yet what do I get? Nothing. I'll be an old maid forever. And my looks will go, my smarts will go, and my hatred for sports will stay exactly the same.

So, what do I want exactly?

I just want to fall into a relationship. I want a guy to knock on my door and say, "I'm here to be your boyfriend. I'll give you control of the remote. I'll go on hikes and grocery shopping with you. I'll see movies with you and go to concerts with you. We can hold hands, or not hold hands, whatever you feel like doing at that moment in time. We can have sex whenever you want and we don't have to do anything too wierd. We can go on fun trips together. And when we fight we can makeup right away. I'll like your friends and they'll like me. We can go out drinking and even sometimes dancing, whatever your cute little heart desires. I'll be on time and even bring you daisies on a random Tuesday (that's a stretch- i know). We can play video games together and paint together and make fun of each other together. You can cry all you want and I'll never judge you. I'll hold the door for you and I'll eat healthy for you. I'll be there for you and even if you have that glazed look in your eyes while I'm talking about something macho I'll understand that you're just zoning out, and that's okay with me because I'm your new boyfriend, and I'll do anything for you."

Now, is that too hard to ask damnit!

Drink and Drive. The cops said it's cool.

But I wasn't drunking, Oficer.
Originally uploaded by barliss2.

So, I just got back from Florida and I could tell right away I'd be depressed for the next 4 months, when even the plane didn't want to land in Detroit because it was too cloudy. But I'm here, working after a glorious break and what happens on our first day... a bomb threat. Which basically means we all got a 2 hour lunch, or in my case a 2 hour arcade fest! Thanks bomb threat guy for breaking up the day for me. You rock.

Okay, so yesterday I was watching Dynasty: The Making of a Guilty Pleasure (don't laugh) when I saw the same commercial 4 times that really surprised the shit out of me. Here was the scenario.

Open on cop #1, "We're on the lookout."
Cut to cop #2, "For drunk drivers."
Cut to cop #3, "So, for the next 2 weeks if you're driving drunk we'll catch you."

and then they go on about how drinking and driving is dangerous, blah blah.

Yay! So, 2 weeks from now we can drink and drive and not worry about cops busting my drunk ass. You'd think the commercial was meant for Christmas/New Years, but I didn't see it prior to these events and the commercial aired 3 more times in a 2 hour span. I guess Martin Luther King Day is code for let's get fucked up and drive recklessly. But the popo will nail your ass. So, just wait a few more days and then drink it up and do as many doughnuts as your drunken little heart pleases. Cops orders.