I Pee on Myself at least once a week

Yes, I do pee on myself, but on purpose!  It's not some weird sexy time thing or like an old person reaction to not getting to the bathroom on time.

The most recent way I peed on myself was while trying to squat at a Chipoltle bathroom and girls you understand that squatting is a VERY dangerous sport.

So there was already pee on the seat and I was trying to be fast because my friend was in line and I just didn't trust her, or anyone for that matter, to order a burrito of the caliber I need it to be.  I ain't paying $7 bucks for no corn salsa nonsense.  So I'm rushing, I see the pee on the seat and I say hey! I can squat this one out no biggie deals.

I go in for the kill and immediately realize I am peeing not only out of the bowl, but also down my pants and onto my shoes (only a little bit though).  I am also wearing large cuffed pants so there is a small amount of pee actually pooling in the damn cuff.

I stop the stream and take a seat, so now not only have I peed on my own pants but I am also sitting in someone else's pee.  As an OCD lady I was really freaking out.  This was just great, my pee on me, someone else's pee on me...grumble grumble grumble.  I get up dry myself off and dry to blot the pee on my pants.  Luckily I was not in such bad shape that I had to go home or anything and until my friend reads this blog she will not know this even happened.

Now for the majority of times I pee on myself it is mostly some combination of trying to squat or an unsafe stream caused by sitting back too far or something else.  It's usually just a little bit on the back of my pants or something that's easy to clean up, but I get so annoyed when I do this.  I often think to myself when I do this type of thing does this happen to other people?  Its got to!  But it probably doesn't...

I Blame Dukakis

So my bestie from grad school and I were out on the town one night in grand ol' Boston, the city of brotherly bros. I kept telling my newish bestie that I'm awkward and when I hit on men I tend to insult them. Well, maybe insult is too strong. I poke fun at them because everyone wants someone that can give them a hard time right? I think I would like someone that made fun of me right out the gate! ...hmm perhaps this is also a problem of mine.

Anyway, so I see this cutsey boots Harvard Business School looking dude. I know, judge away, but sometimes I like men that wear suits to bars. Being the amazing lady casanova that I am I take some time and think of a perfect line to lay on Mr. HBS that will have him swooning over my hot self in no time!

So I take my swagger over to the bar area and lay down this gem, "You know I think those eyebrows went out of style after Dukakis lost the election." (I was told lots of people don't know who Dukakis is so I will tell you.)

Michael Dukakis: was the democratic nominee in the 1988 election to George Bush. He has very bushy eyebrows and he is known for them. This dude did know who Dukakis is because he happened to be working for Duval Patrick, the governor of Massachusetts, where Dukakis was also governor at one time.

Yes, he had big eyebrows. I believe I followed that line up with something about caterpillar eyebrows, but I can't be sure. I took his silence as a need to further clarify how bushy I thought his eyebrows were, but I still thought he was cute...that was my point.

My bestie would not stop laughing at me and she did finally believe how awkward I become when it comes to hitting on guys. I tried to tell her and she's the one that left me alone in the bar to come up with pick up lines on my own. So really it's her fault.

UPDATE: Caterpillars ended up making out with someone who wasn't me. I know, you're shocked.

It's been a while

Naturally, it's been a while since my last post. I spent my summer teaching in Honduras and traveling in Central America a bit. I will be posting some antics from my trip soon so please stay tuned all three of my faithful readers!

Dating Tip #1: Always poop before your date.

I know it's been a while, but there's been a lot of changes in my life. I have moved to Boston for grad school and it's been a trip. I can blog more about those things at a later date. I have dated here and there since my move, but I went a first date just this last Friday and I learned a very important lesson: Always poop before your date.

I took a one week intensive class this last week and I got out of class about an hour before said date was supposed to begin. I'd known I had to poop for a while before class ended, but I surely thought I would have plenty of time to release the troops before this date. Well class ends at about 4:15 and the date is set to begin around 5. We had some great guest speaks and teachers who I wanted to speak to and wouldn't you know it the next time I looked at the clock it was 5!

I am late to everything in life and I do make an effort to not be the first person to show up, but I didn't want to be too late. For those of you that know me my poops are often unpredictable and I just can't sit down and expect everything to go smoothly and quickly. I opted just to go for being on time to the date and not dropping the kids off at the pool. (I'm seeing how many poop euphemisms I can squeeze in here).

We grabbed some hot cocoa and as the coffee shop was busy I suggested we "walk around" even though it was 30 some degrees outside...DUMB. We walked around for a while and it was delightfully awkward. I'm totally the type of person to talk about my poops so I had to keep that in along with the turtle heads dying to poke their heads out! Of course along with needing to poop comes needing to toot, but I didn't want to scare this poor young man so fast.

Well after two hours of nonsensical, awkward first date talking I was so cold I could no longer squeeze my butt together to hold in my toots and I had to poop like you wouldn't believe. On a side note the reason I didn't opt to get a drink inside somewhere was because than I wouldn't have an out and I didn't want to go in a bathroom while he was waiting because as I said...you just never know what kind of time you'll need to invest.

So two hours later I couldn't feel my toes and couldn't hold in my farts. I had to cut out. I made up some excuse about needing to get ready for a birthday party than asked him to "hug it out." Yes, those were my words that's why I put them in quotes. It is probably also why I'm single.

Follow Up: I got home and pooped and it was delightful. I do have a second date. I have no photo I was comfortable with sharing on this post.

Boobing the clergy

I have a secret for all three of my dedicated readers...NYC subways are crowded. Shhhh, come on let's keep this between friends. Even though I knew this little tidbit I am still constantly surprised when I get crammed into a small subway car on a weekday morning. Well this particular weekday morning must have been orchestrated by the Baby Jesus himself, because I have no other explanations for it.

A Thursday or two ago I was headed onto a cramped 1 train in the early morn' about 9:30 or so. I had a work party after work, so I had my lip gloss poppin' and my work-friendly slut gear on. As I enter the train I am sort of shoved on the train. This is not all that abnormal, but today I was pushed right into a dudes arm (as he held onto the subway bar) that happened to fall right below my breasts, so that they were quite literally perched on this poor guys arm. I looked around and tried to back up, but nothing, could not move anywhere. We gave each other an awkward, "yes, I know my boobs are 'on' your arm" look, but he was courteous enough to try move since I could not.

We were all finally able to adjust a little and he was able to hold onto the subway pole behind him, but I noticed as he turned around he has a "Princeton Theological Seminary," backpack on. Perfect! I looked at the sky and said God, it's me Jules, and I finally realize why I was given large breasts.

At least I can say that I finally blessed a priest, as I myself, have been blessed by them throughout my life. See God, I give back to the community too!

P.S. Once again I just googled "boobs priest" and this popped up, so I'm going with it.

St. Patrick, the Patron Saint of Drunk 22 year olds

So being unemployed can be inspiring. I would like to say it has inspired me to play bingo, learn a trade, or do something crafty. Instead it inspired me to celebrate St. Patrick's Day on the actual holiday.

Now this sounds very fun in theory. Goin' out, getting drizzunk, throwing small plastic cups at taxi cabs...

Well I bought a cheap ticket to this pub crawl on Groupon. The pub crawl was Friday night, Saturday, and St Pat's. I skipped Friday, but I had a group of friends going on Saturday. I got a gig last minute for Saturday, so by the time I met up with my friends they were wasted and I was never going to be as drunk as they were.

Due to my cheapness and the need to feel like I spent my money appropriately I decided to try and go to the Wednesday portion of said pub crawl.

I was the only one with a ticket for Wednesday, so I went by myself. I walked in to a super loud club-y bar known as "The Yard." I was really only interested in the $3 drafts (cheap in NYC mind you) only to find out that they were sold in glorified Dixie cups. Since I really only had the goal of being kinda drunk, these baby beers were not going to work. I paid $5 for some coronas, two to be exact, and then remembered that I was alone in a bar drinking.

So, I did what anyone alone at a bar drinking would do...I went into the bathroom and chugged my beers so I could leave immediately and not have to talk to anyone dressed like a Marine (well, to be fair they were probably real Marines, but I didn't want to talk to them nonetheless). After leaving the bathroom with an underwhelming buzz I made my way through the crowd of wasted 20 year olds making out with each other and dry humping on the dance floor. It was only 8pm. I don't think I've ever felt more old in my whole life. All I could think about was the fact that I had just been accepted to a great grad school and I was watching people in Celtics jerseys do it on the dance floor. I knew that I would not make it out of this bar with any dignity, so I decided to wait for my friends outside.

After craftily dodging the drunk creepy men at The Yard I met up with some friends and proceeded to have a pretty good time. Thank God I can sleep until 1pm the next day! Being unemployed can sometimes be a hard job.

Does One Have to be Crazy to Be Creative?

So I was doing some research for fun on good ol' JD Salinger. I am cliche and he is a very favorite of mine. I can't tell you what Franny and Zooey does for me and reading Teddy gives me an indescribable feeling like no other piece of literature can. That being said after doing some reading on Mr. Salinger I have realized that he was kind of bat shit crazy.

To those of you that know even the slightest bit about him this is of no surprise as he is a known recluse who hasn't been seen in many many years. However the extent of his reclusiveness and case of the Madonnas (as he switches religions as she switches personas) was unknown to me up until now. He forced his second wife to stay in their home and really cut her off from her family. His daughter wrote a memoir about him that wasn't too pleasant and I believe he even sued to have it stopped being published. At any rate why is it that the most creative minds are the CRAZIEST?

I am a little crazy and I'm okay with admitting it. I am OCD and fairly ADD (apparently they only diagnose ADHD anymore, but I don't think I'm all that hyperactive so I will stick with old school, because no one really reads this anyway). I have anxiety, however, I function well in society and am pretty good at hiding my crazies or making them endearing enough for people to love! (I like to tell myself anyway). So that being said I like to think I'm also mildly creative, but that might be up for debate. Some of the most creative people I know are the most unstable. I'm not sure why these things are so closely related. As so many of us long for the ability to write lyrics like Elliott Smith or write verse like Poe or write amazingly beautiful stream of consciousness like Salinger would you take it if it came with such crazy consequences?

I'm not sure that I would as I have enough crazy on my own and as much as I revere those particular men they probably do not revere themselves. I'm okay with being completely mediocre if it comes with some sanity and ability to cope with day to day life. Perhaps some of you would disagree, but I wish great talent could come without all of the baggage. Misery certainly does breed creativity though.

Finding yourself in a city such as New York can be challenging. As I arrived here on the boat through Ellis Island...okay that didn't happen, but I feel the story would have more depth if it had. Whatever, fine, truth. I came here on a 747 from Kansas, yes Kansas. I'm not from the country, far from it. I'm from a land of the homogeneous home with matching humans to coordinate. Is was a great bubble to grow up in and I met some wonderful people, experienced some shit, and made it through with a great family and friend base with which to plan my escape route.

When I moved to New York I was pretty damn excited. I had what I thought was an awesome job. I was fulfilling a dream my best friend from middle school and some high school and I had devised and as she died I had to do this on my own. I was supported, yet I knew that most people thought it was dumb to move to an expensive city with no real permanent job. Of course these same people were not incorrect, however, that is not how I flow and as the people around me know...I do what I want (said in a Cartman voice for good measure). I did it though, I came here, made something of a career and then decided to switch careers. Blah blah everyone knows all of this. The point is with all of this trepidatious (this isn't a word, but I like it) decision making I have come out all right...pretty poor, but great actually.

I'm not sure when the rest of the population "found" themselves, but oh how I hate saying it that way. I don't think there is some magic age for these things to happen. I can say with confidence that it's an ongoing process, but being happy with yourself is a constant challenge. There are always things I am working on, but you know, I am really happy with my life and myself. I'm sure this will change and things will be tossed my way that could shatter this reality for me. I can only say that I wish this for everyone that I love. I write this because I feel like I write about the city a lot and I wanted to say that this city really helped me find me, because nothing can make you question your own sanity like the smell of human fecal matter and a cab coming centimeters from taking out your knee caps.

New York City can be a conniving bitch, but she comes around and once you find the magic of this great city she can really become your BFF. With such great history and so many secrets to tell I think I know what an Empire State of Mind is (and yes, I quoted a Jay-Z song and no, I'm not ashamed of it).

PS I must apologize for my unusually optimistic posting. I'll go back to hobo stories shortly.

Narcissus and Jules, The Gods of Vanity

So once again it has been a while, but I'm trying to be better about writing down my ideas so I can remember them and tell you all about my funnies!

So I have been told more than once that sometimes I can be a bit narcissistic (I can safely say all of those times have been from my sister), however, I think everyone occasionally catches their own reflection in the mirror and stares for a bit. Typically this behavior is not really seen by anyone or if it is people know what you're doing and just roll their eyes (or admire you as well). But sometimes when you don't realize the reflective surface you are gazing into is actually not a mirror, but a window it can cause a very awkward situation.

Okay, okay, sometimes I look at myself in mirrors and there is that ocassional time when the mirror happens to be a window and there is someone on the other side visibly creeped out by your extraordinarily long gaze at them, when it is really an extraordinarily long gaze at oneself. So this particular time the person on the other side of the mirror (window) was a young woman probably about my age, so I'm not sure if she thought I was hitting on her or not. So when I noticed her staring at me because I was staring at me as well I gave her an awkward wave and turned back towards the front of the table I was sitting at. (I felt the awkward wave told her I was really staring at my own reflection when actually it probably solidified her thought that I was checking her out). I then tried to pretend nothing happened.

The moral of the story here kids is if you are going to be vain please make sure no one is on the other side of the mirror/window. Feel free to do it on the subway or in the bathroom or perhaps in the counters at your local department store, but be careful because you never know what is on the other side.

( I googled mirror window and this creepy photo is what popped up so I went with it!)

Are we crazy or are we dancing?

As you walk the streets of New York City you will see and hear a variety of sights and sounds. More often than not you will see people singing, dancing, talking to themselves, and an assortment of other things that seen anywhere else would make a "normal" person think they were watching crazies. I have found in my four years of living here that just because someone belts out Whitney Houston in a Target or dances along to their Ipod while walking down the street does not make them "crazy." It just means they are about to audition for Alvin Ailey's biggest show...in their head.

I know that there a good amount of legitimate dancers, actors, singers living in NYC. I don't think they often practice while walking down the street, but in the end you really just never know. I saw this guy dancing all by himself while walking down my street, my first reaction was...he is batshit crazy, but then I looked at him and he looked like a normal young man. This does not mean that he's not crazy, but upon further inspection I decided that he was probably just rehearsing something or coming up with new dance moves for a special performance of some sort. Why people find the need to do this in public is beyond me, but I am not one to judge (okay I am and I did).

I think dancing is one thing, but when people belt it out when they are walking down the street is something I will never understand. Do they know people can hear them? Do they know they're not in a subway with guitar and no one will give them a quarter? Are they aware that they are a really bad singer? So many questions and so many seemingly crazy people to ask. I saw this perfectly normal young woman walking down the street busting out Leona Lewis...She did not look crazy, but that is crazy lady behavior if you ask me.

When you live in New York you constantly ask yourself if you are going crazy. The stress, the people, the nutjobs surrounding you, it can really make you question your own sanity. However the second I see a man in Target singing Whitney Houston at the top of his lungs as he wanders through the aisles allows me to remember that I have not yet reached that point.

Fatgedies

I was eating some delicious corn tortilla chips the other day when I bit into one the wrong way and got a sharp corner to the gum. It was actually really painful and I had no idea a single chip could inflict such pain upon my poor unsuspecting gums. It led me to remember other fatgedies I've had.

I will first explain fatgedy to you all. It is a tragedy (like cutting your gum on a chip) done while eating fatty snacks. I have one particular fatgedy that I will share with you now...

I remember this one time when I really wanted to eat some tasty pizza. I brought it out of the oven and I was so excited to bite into the juicy, greasalicious cheese that I didn't even wait to see if the temperature was right. I bite in and immediately realized that my mouth was burning. I took the slice out of my mouth, but a small dollop of cheese dripped on my lip and burned it...no joke. Within minutes a small sad blister formed on my lip and I had to admit to those brave enough to ask that I actually burned my mouth shoving pizza in it. It was sad, but funny all at the same time.

I'm sure the chip incident is not the first or the last fatgedy I will endure. It is a risk you take when eating such delicious things. I actually have a photo of this blister that I will try and track down for all of my dedicated readers. Please share your fatty stories with me. :)

Podcasts...

So, I know podcasts have been out for a long time, but I'm finally catching on to how awesome they are.  I always feel semi inadequate compared to all of my cultured New York City coworkers.  They read the New Yorker, they see indie movies, they listen to smart people podcasts, etc...  I decided that I could do at least one of these things in an effort to seem as cool as they are.

I have come across three of the best podcasts ever (I say this having only listened to about 20 different podcasts, but still trust me).  There is this website called How Stuff Works, they also happen to have two podcasts called "Stuff you missed in History Class" and "Stuff you Should Know."  I'm not sure if those are the exact names, but I'm too lazy to look it up so you will have to deal with it.  The history class podcast is an unbelievable source of useless but fun information.  Today I learned that Marco Polo actually brought pasta back to Italy from China!  The Italians actually didn't come up with pasta the Chinese did!!  Crazy town.  I also learned where the phrase "peeping Tom" came from and many other fun facts.  I have to warn you that the hosts have really annoying voices, but when you think of how many games of trivial pursuit you will win you suffer through for the good of the nation.

The other stuff you should know podcast is awesome as well.  It has taught me all about bootlegging and that bootlegging actually ended up creating Nascar!  I know, so interesting!  So check it out.  The third best podcast would have to be This American Life.  Ira Glass has a nice and calming voice and the stories are very interesting.  These are all free so you have no excuse not to check them out.

These are my nerd tips of the day.  I have to think "Carolyn" (I put your name in quotes as if it was just allegedly your name) for her support and request of new blog.  There is more to come I am feeling awfully creative lately.

Inauguration Sensation!

So I have been asked a few times to blog about my inauguration experience, so here it goes...

I headed down to DC on Friday night.  I stayed with a couple fabulous friends of mine (Kate and Kyle) that live in Silver Spring, Maryland.  They showed me an amazing time in Baltimore and in DC, as well as shuffling me around to find a stupid microphone for my video camera (thanks to Stephanie too!).  We pretty much just relaxed on Saturday and then Sunday headed up to the National Mall for the big concert.  I came later than my friends, so meeting up with them became a problem.  I ended up lost and asking this guy in a bright jacket to help me with directions.  

It being DC it should've been no surprise that this man ended up being some Army big wig who has worked in the White House for years and is friends with the Bush's (I didn't hold that against him).  

Well Sunday I get a call from God...I mean Travis, my volunteer team leader, who asks me if I still want to be an official inauguration volunteer.  I said hells yes I do!!

I was so jazzed!  I signed up online to volunteer weeks before and was sadly rejected by one of those blue "hope" emails.  I was bummed at first, but decided to go down and enjoy the inauguration anyway.  I'm sure glad I did, because I obviously did end up volunteering and it was a cold and amazing experience.

My friend Kyle also volunteered that morning so at about 3:30am after three or so hours of sleep we woke up to brave the cold and the crowds.  Kyle may have forgotten to realize that the buses weren't running, so after 20 minutes in 28 degree weather we called a cab.  I arrived at the National Mall, my volunteer post, at 5:30am and tried desperately to stay warm.  

I met my team and they were a pretty cool and eclectic group of folks.  Young, old, different races, different backgrounds, it was fabulous.  Everyone was so friendly and welcoming and happy to be there despite the temperature.  We were stationed near a little pond of some sort and asked to direct people to the jumbotrons.  It was freezing and we periodically had to go warm up in the basement of the Lincoln Memorial, but just to be a part of it all was an experience I will never forget.

I watched the inauguration from one of the many jumbotrons stationed around the reflecting pool and just smiled at the history I was witnessing.  Say what you will about Obama's inexperience (Dad) or whatever else you have to say, but he has (whether deserved or not) inspired a huge amount of people.  To see him walk down the stairs and take the oath did bring tears to my eyes, because I actually looked at a politician and trusted him with my country.  

I have been criticized in the past for not being very patriotic, but over the last few years I have not really seen a reason to be proud of many of the things my country has done.  I am however deeply grateful for the freedoms I have and I am appreciative for those that have fought for those freedoms, however I do not think a lot of what we do now in the world is protecting those freedoms.  Anyway, I digress...

I am so grateful for all of the experiences I have had in my life.  Seeing President Obama be inaugurated will definitely go down in my personal history book and until he does something real bad I will continue to be proud of him.  I hope we, as citizens, are able to contribute and make his presidency one of the best our countries has seen.  So do your part.  

If I could play music in here I would play the Queen's song because even though it has nothing to do with America I always get the tune stuck in my head when I'm thinking about the president.  You know the one...dun dun dundun dun dun 

dundun dundun...sassy queen.

Well shit...

Alright so you know how I was talking about my resolutions and how the year was good thus far because I had been able to go 8 days without seeing any hobo's privates. Well...it's over now.

Last night I went out to my boss' birthday party. I didn't want to go because I was having some Crohnsy issues (I will not elaborate for you) and it was cold as really cold stuff, but I went anyway. Because I was totally sober and quite poor I decided to take the subway rather than a cab. I waited FOREVER for the stupid F train and then transferred to the C train. As I got on the C train I had no clue what I was about to encounter.

As I sat down to play some Guitar Hero on Tour I was ready for the long trek home. I knew I had to beat Kiss "Rock and Roll at Nite," so I had plenty of practicing to do. As I walked on the train I smelled something pretty disgusting, but seeing as it's a New York City subway it was nothing out of the ordinary. I put my scarf over my face and went back to my wicked guitar playing. Right as the doors shut an older man threw his bag on the train and then jumped on himself. He was wearing a long coat and dark jeans, but still had a homeless aura to him. I could see he was struggling with his junk, but just assumed he was just doing something to himself (live in NYC for a little bit and you will see that this is not rarity).

After about a minute of this man shifting around he pulled up his coat and I realized that he was urinating on himself. He apparently could not stop and finally just gave up and yanked his pants down, squated, and just started shitpeeing all over the floor. Shitpeeing is some blend of shitting and peeing that I could not distinguish and didn't care to investigate. I was only about 7 feet away from him and could not believe what I was seeing. I was appalled, saddened, and bewildered. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. (Oh yeah I was also so disturbed by all of this that I got off the subway on the wrong stop and ended up having to take a cab the rest of the way home).

Typically I try and find humor in stuff like this, but something about this incident (in comparison with all of the other times I have witnessed homeless men doing gross things in public) really disturbed me. Maybe it was the idea that he couldn't control himself or that he felt it was okay to pull his pants down on a train. Either way I'm still trying to find humor in it. Until then I'll let you all laugh at my expense. Maybe 2010 will be my no homeless flashing year.

New Year, New You

Well hello 2009! I can't believe it's already 2009. I think the last three to four years of my life have flown by at a scary pace. I will start by saying New Years wasn't that fun as usual. Each and every year I prep myself to have an amazing New Years Eve. I pay too much to hang out at a bar with friends or with people I don't know and then I am let down in the end. Not because my friends aren't fun...they are, but honestly we hang out at a bar typically so why pay more money to do the same thing and have a random countdown at some point in the evening. Whatevs, next year I'm just going to hang out with the hobos for free and I'll bring some snacks so they'll like me more.

Beyond New Years Eve the year has been good these other 7 days. I'm trying to get into grad school and although I sucked up the entrance exam (I'm counting that as being a part of 2008 even though it was actually the 2nd of January) I've had a great year. My job is going well, my apartment is cleaner than it used to be and no hobos have flashed me yet. I would say it has been quite successful thus far.

As everyone typically does, I too, have decided on some New Year's resolutions. Here goes...

1. Work out more (I have become a blob in the last year)

2. Get into grad school

3. Stop getting flashed by hobos

4. Be be nicer to hobos

5. Work harder (I am lazy by nature)

6. Somehow talk to Tina Fey (or wait outside her apartment and yell (or throw) (soft) things at her)

7. Keep up with my amazing blog better

8. Continue to use bad and badder grammar so my dad's head explodes when I speak to him (haha that one's for you Dad :) )

9. Write my first novela -- about a love child named Divine

10. Become a drug addict, then go to rehab, then talk about how I had a drug habit, but I went to rehab all in an effort to get famous and sell more books

11. Write down more resolutions throughout the year that I will never actually complete.

12. Watch more Oprah, she inspires me to love myself and Dr. Oz makes me think I'm going to die tomorrow.

Well I think that's it for today. Come back again soon, because I promise to keep this updated.

Happy New Year!!!! Send me your resolutions that you'll never complete too!
Jules

Historical Hobos...

Well you had to know it would be just a matter of time before hobos once again became a part of my blog.  And lucky for you (my readers and fans) it is exactly that time!!  Woohoo!

So, in my very interesting neighborhood there is a half-way house/homeless home of some sort.  Often times the residents of said "home" hang out outside and say weird things to the people as they walk past.  Most of the time they ask for things, but today it was a very special historic fact that I was tossed.

As I stroll past my local McDonalds deciding whether or not I should go in my hobo friend slurs at me that today is the anniversary of JFK's assassination.  At first I didn't know what she said and I just thought to myself, "that lady is crazy in the brain," (think of me saying it in a sassy voice).  However, after processing what she actually said I realized that in fact she was sharing with me a delightful historical factoid!

I keep track of historical dates and what not and this one just completely slipped my mind.  I need to appreciate my local hobos more often because sometimes I just don't know what I would do without them.  God Bless us everyone. 

On a side note I have a little conspiracy theory that I stole from Strangers With Candy (the best show ever made).  Stephen Colbert says that Fidel Castro dressed up as Marilyn Monroe and gave Kennedy a case of syphilis so bad it blew the back of his head off.  Chew on that one.

The Pick Up Artist

Well I'm not sure if any of you enjoy crappy VH1 shows as much as I do, but I want to take this time to reflect upon the show, "The Pick Up Artist."  For those of you that don't know this show is about some creepy dude who has apparently figured out how to trick women into sleeping with him with no strings attached.  He wrote a book and now he has a show where he takes 9 socially retarded young men and teaches them how to have random sex with women who are dumb enough to fall for their tricks.  There are so many things wrong with this show I don't know where to start, but I suppose the fact that the man teaching these guys looks like a douche with his painted nails and goggles (no, he's not a swimmer) is a start.

I will start by saying I'm not sure who falls for "Mystery," the teachers fake name on the show.  He wears fuzzy hats, chain link shirts, and goggles that serve no purpose.  Maybe this is cute to some women, but I'm over it.  If he approached me in a bar I can safely say that no matter what he said I would still think he was a douche, but that's just me.  On top of that his whole schtick is teaching these sweet young dudes how to not be yourself and by doing that women will sleep with you.

I know dating is a game, I get that, but I think that the "art" of picking up women is ridiculous.  Obviously there's some validity to it or these dudes wouldn't have a show, but really who are the women this crap works on?  

So, the moral of the story is watching crappy TV will make you think about life and then you will be a better person...or something.  

Lady poops a little

Well I must digress from my typical facebook political rants because my sister will divorce me from being her sister if I blog about such things. So what's best after politics...poop I say!

I know this is gross, but since only four people read this none of them being my mom I think it's a fair topic. Dr. Oz (from Oprah's show) says that your poop is the greatest way to really look at your health. If your poop is off odds are you are off too! Well that brings me to my next point my poop is off, therefore, I am off.

I have digestive "issues" to say the least. I don't get to poop too often, so when I do it's quite an event. Have you ever waited all day for something so special and then when it comes you get that giddy joyous feeling that only cake can bring a fat kid? Well that's what pooping, or poopong when I'm texting, is like for me. I know pooping is so gross and overrated to you, but honestly when you don't get to do it when you want it becomes an important event. One that you value and enjoy contemplating. So appreciate your poops because they are like a box of chocolates and you never know what you're gonna get.

(Let me also add that this was the LEAST offensive picture that shows up when you google image poop. If you think I'm sick for blogging about it, you should check out the people that put their own poop online).

Whatevs...

Ugh...I'm so over this election crap. I am tired of people misconstruing anger for passion and frustration for being over emotional. Isn't this exactly how groups of people who were fed up with an existing situations have been treated continuously over time? I'm not comparing my frustration with the Civil Rights Era, but typically people are able to cry "crazy or emotional" when they want to invalidate and ignore peoples feelings. They did it then and they do it now.

It seems to me if more people paid attention to what was going on in the world they would be passionate and emotional too. It's not that it runs our lives or takes the thoughts of our every waking moment, but we think about it yes...as well we should. If we don't care, who will? I too, am intimidated by overly passionate political folk, but I'm not really sure I consider myself to be one of those people. I will vote and I will spread the word, but I choose to spend my time helping people makes their lives better in small ways. I'm not the go out on the street and yell type despite what some people may think.

People need to wake up and pay more attention then things like housing crisis' and poorly planned occupations wouldn't "sneak up on us."

I promise to be funnier after this blog, but I had to get some things off my chest.

Ugh...Palin

So I thought I would try to keep this blog apolitical, but since really only about three people read it I don't think it's that big of a deal. Basically I need to whine about this Palin woman. Anyone that knows me or reads my Facebook status knows I can't stand her. She is the epitome of a woman who has used and abused feminism and its ideals only to CRAP on the progress women have fought long and hard to make.

Gloria Steinem and Suheir Hammad wrote an article about feminism that described feminists as, "women who actively promote the advancement of the interests of other women, not just the narcissistic advancement of themselves." It could not have been stated any better. Palin is the definition of a woman who promotes the "narcissistic advancement of herself." The woman is unbelievable. She claims family values and God and Jesus and the like when her 17 year old is knocked up! Judgemental...oh hell yes and I am okay with that. It's not good for 17 year olds to be having babies...sorry, it's just not.

I am not sure why women seem to see her as a role model. She seems to be just playing in the boys club, but telling the public she's a "maverick." Please. She's transparent and blatantly self interested to me. In addition to these things she does not seem intelligent enough to handle the job that she could potentially be elected for. I mean really, don't we deserve a vice president that knows where Iraq is! Perhaps that is a gross overstatement...maybe she did know where Iraq was before her two month cram session, but I would bet money that she did not.

Okay rant over. Perhaps besides her clear lack of knowledge there's no substantial reason not to put her in office, but at any rate she is a disappointment to women and I don't care that she is a governor or has been mayor of a small town. I suppose on some level progress is progress, but I think it's morally questionable when you try to rip down the rights of the very people that got you to your position in the first place.

I refuse to put a photo of this twit up, so instead I will put up a photo of a guilty puppy...the way she should feel about the idea of being elected vice president.