I get tons of messages on this blog (ok, well, it was like 3 messages. but you know. whatever… shut up.) from people telling me I’m funny and they enjoy my wit and wisdom. They beg for more blogs. More and more and more blogs! I haven’t been able to find a subject to write on recently. I’ve been very distracted by stuff like tv, men, the internet, Words with Friends, burritos and so on and so forth. I actually meant to write this blog like weeks ago but I got totally sidetracked by some shiny stuff.
(Must write blog toni…ooooOOOOOoooo, sparkly!)
Long story longer, I’m just going to write some random thoughts and hope they’re funny.
I hate paying my bills. I don’t know why companies get their panties all in a bunch if I don’t pay them on time. Seriously, Verizon? Out of all of the millions of customers you have, my measly $150 is going to make or break you if you don’t get it by the 17th? That’s a damn lie! And if it’s not a damn lie, you really need to learn to budget yourself better. Anyway, I always pay you eventually, so why are you acting like just because I’m a little behind, I’m never, ever going to pay my bill again. Look Drama Queen, you need to chillax. This needy thing is very unattractive.
(Here you go, Mien Fuhrer. Better late than pregnant.)
Now onto the news. The news is boring. Really, really boring. I almost never watch it. I figure if it’s super important, I’ll see it on TMZ or my mom will tell me about it. Is it too much to ask that I get to learn about what’s going on in the world through, say, hot shirtless guys or interpretive dance? I would care a hell of a lot more about the national deficit if that chick on the Today show rapped it to me. (Her name is Suzy something…what kind of financial guru is named “Suzy”?) Boss rhymes and a sick beat would definitely keep my attention. I know grown ups are supposed to be able to sit still for a half hour and listen, comprehend and care about this stuff but I just can’t. Thank God I have a DVR full of Simpsons and King of the Hill to keep me entertained in the morning.
(Mmmmm, Serbian refugees…now I get it.)
I also don’t get why I have to “behave” at work. It’s bad enough I have to go to this place for 8-9 hours a day. Yes, I know. We all have to work. If I don’t work, I don’t have money. If I don’t have money, I can’t buy vodka. And if I don’t have vodka, I’ll never get my hands steady enough to write that fucking check to Verizon! Anyhoo, when I’m at work, I’m expected to do things like be nice, be polite, don’t look at porn on the internet, don’t curse like a sailor, don’t hit stupid people, don’t steal office supplies and so forth. This can make for very long and boring days. I can understand “be nice and polite” and maybe even “look at porn on your own time” policies but really, no cussing? How can I properly convey my rage towards the stupid people I’m not supposed to hit without using colorful language? They won’t know they’re stupid unless I yell it at them and include descriptive adjectives like the f-word. And are you really going to use all those office supplies? Surely a few boxes of paperclips and a couple of laptops wouldn’t be missed.
(Burn “Kenny Rogers Greatest Hits” for Mom’s birthday…check.)
When I hear some sad woman say, “Chocolate is better than sex.” my immediate response is, “Then you must be doing sex wrong.” Or when I see these commercials for the sex lotions to help the lady achieve whatever fireworks and rocket ships and submarine antics she requires. What the hell is up with that?! Seriously, ladies. If you need this stuff, you obviously have a lazy man. DO NOT encourage his laziness or lack of skill by using these things. Take that money and buy him a book or a class or something to teach him how to do it right. Maybe I’m weird because I think that way but in my mind, I feel like we don’t require a lot of you guys other than carrying heavy stuff, killing bugs and telling us these jeans don’t make our butts look big. Man up and learn how to do the bed stuff properly. That is all.
(Sexy times? Really. Ummm, okayyy.)
I have yet to understand why I have to be this adult person. My brain is pretty much stuck somewhere between the ages of 15 and 19. I still laugh at stuff that most grown up people don’t think is funny. Whenever I have to call L.A. Superior Court for work, I can barely ask for Department 69 without giggling. I’m actually kind smiling now just typing it. Hee-hee, Department 69. I also think that any and all videos/pictures of guys getting hit, kicked, punched, slapped, head butted or in any way injured in their testicles is freaking hilarious! I stick my tongue out at people. I can’t chew gum in front of my mom because apparently, I don’t know how to “chew it like a lady.” (That means don’t pop, snap, crack, blow bubbles or make any other sort of noise with said piece of gum.) I carry a Smurfette lunch box. I have colored paper clips at my desk along with colored pens and pictures of puppies and kittens in my cubicle. I hate vegetables and cannot even pretend that jicama is “just the same as potato chips”. It is so NOT. I also have an appalling love of pop music. I’ll say it-I love Britney Spears! I know all her songs by heart as well as the choreography of “Oops, I Did it Again”. Yes. I do. Good music to me requires the ability to be sung loudly in the car but the lyrics don’t really need to have any deeper meaning than “ooo baby”, “I want you/You want me” or “I love you and/or dancing”. I still call my sister names. I’ll also moon and/or flash her on Skype because that is also still so damn funny to me. Haha-boobs.
(Pictured: Stupid Melanie Garbage Face)
I love being a girl. It must really suck to be a guy. No make up. No purses. NO SHOES! I would literally kill for any of these things. I love everything that is brightly colored, fluffy, sparkly, soft, lacey and cute. I hate bugs. I despise them. I hate smelly things. I hate sports. But I love men. I yearn for the man who will tell me I’m pretty. That I’m soft. That I smell good. Feminism can kiss my ass. I want a guy to hold the door for me. To buy me presents. To sing me a song. To hold my hand. To remember a stupid thing like how much I like peanut butter and chocolate anything. I am a complete sucker for puppies, kittens, bunnies, rainbows, unicorns, dolphins and flowers. Note to the men out there: you’ll get a lot further with flattery and flowers than anything, ever. And that includes the aforementioned sex ointment.
(ahhh. ah. oh. ah…so pretty…must. hug. flowers…)
Soooo long story short. I’m a girl. And I freakin’ love it!
Well, that’s all I have to say to my tens of fans for now. I so wish I could write about my day job. Now that would be fun! But since I am so attached to my paycheck, I’ll leave it alone for awhile. I also think it would be fun to do some sort of Christa TV Show Round Up. Except there’s not a lot of good tv on now. Then again, any kind of round up is super fun. I better go. It’s sooo hot here in L.A. so I really feel the need for some cool mint Oreos…with sparkles on top! Til next time…