Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The Iliad: Ted Edition

NOTE* This story actually occurred about three to four weeks ago.

God love him because I know his genes are responsible for my blonde hair (which is a vision if I do say so myself) and ability to be over-dramatic but my dad is too much for me to handle sometimes. Not only does dear ol' dad (to whom I affectionately call 'Ted' on a regular basis but only behind his back because he'd get piiissssed if I did it to his face) send me 'fun' emails in which he writes the way the cool hip kids (of age 13) would speak (i.e. Wadda ya up to? Well I'ma jus' sittin' here thinkin' about what're we gunnah have fur dinner...etc). But one of the things he does that kills me the most is his recounting of an event (he is severely lacking in skillzzz in this department). You see, Ted tells stories like they're the soap opera version of The Iliad: overly dramatic and entirely too long. Not only that, but he also has to retell them AT LEAST fifteen times and if all fifteen times are to the exact same person then so be-it. Take tonight's story for instance:

Ted: So Jack from across the street came over today.

(pause here for look of shock and awe...and dramatic effect)

Me: Okay.

Ted: APPARently (yes over emphasize the first half of the word) someone broke in so he was asking if we'd seen anything suspicious around their house lately.

Me: Oh. Well that's unfortunate...

Ted: sooo...(pause here for about a minute and a half -seriously) he said it's the THIRD break-in they've had...they stole a big wide-screen TV not even out of the box yet.

Me: I see...

(Pause here for another minute and a half to two minutes)

Ted: So if you leave the house...make sure you put the alarm on and everything.

Me (thinking): Like I've done since we got the alarm system when I was in. ooohhh sayyy 3rd grade? Side note* I'm 23 now with two undergraduate degree...

Me (actually said): ...Will do Pops...

So not only did I have to sit through this, and I shit you not when I say this, 25 minute ordeal, I had to listen to it ALL OVER AGAIN when my mom called from San Francisco to check in from her business meeting. There goes 50 minutes of my life I will never get back. *sigh*

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Fucktard drivers piss me off.

Alright. Here is the first entry I ever wrote for the blog I never had as briefly referenced in my introductory post. It might be a little rough but I feel like I've gone over it a million times trying to make it as good as possible for you folks at home! (Basically go easy on a girl...I'm a [blog] virgin...touched for the very first time?)

Bad drivers really piss me off. Why is it that no one knows how to drive anymore? It used to be only when in-climate weather hit or one was in Ohio and now it's as if all hell broke loose...on the interstate/by-pass/regular street in the suburbs where people are just trying to raise their toddlers. At least three different incidents happened to me on my way home from work at the Fuckit Mall this afternoon all of which pissed me off causing lots of honking, cursing, flipping off, my blood-pressure to raise, etc.

Is it too much to ask that you choose ONE of the two lanes available for vehicles going in your direction to drive in? Yes. I get it you have a huge ass truck. (I feel as though a little penis joke is too easy here yes? Um no.) Quit compensating for how little your fucking dick is. However, Evelyn and I do not take up too much room and would only like to get past you because we just want to get home and at this point you've been unabashedly straddling the line for about ten miles (ok probably more like point five) and we're worried you might be drunk. Just because it's 5 o'clock SOMEWHERE ELSE does not mean you can take advantage of this fact at 10am HERE and then drive somewhere. Choose a fucking lane you ignorant redneck fucktard.

If your in a TURN LANE how about actually TURNING instead of proceeding to go straight through the intersection almost sending not only me but those surrounding me to our most imminent death?...dickhole...Didn't mean to get into the turn lane? That's ok. It happens to me all the time. Do I wait for the light to turn green so I can put the pedal to the metal and cut off those who were smart/coherent enough to get into the correct lane? Absolutely not. Just make the fucking turn and pull a three point switcheroo (somewhere SAFE like someone's driveway OR you could even pull one of those handy things we call a U-turn or circle around the parking lot the possibilities are endless) and pull back out onto the road you meant to stay on at the appropriate time (i.e. at a green light with a protected arrow).

Lastly, lord knows I'm guilty of using a cell phone whilst in the driver's seat but before you go and get all 'but I've been in the car while you drove and used your cell phone simultaneously' on me at least I don't look directly DOWN at my cell phone while I'm using it. DOWN, as in eyes are not on the road, i could admire how clean and white and pristine I've kept my 6 month old K Swisses (sidenote* does anyone wear those anymore?), DOWN. I understand that your (probably guido) boyfriend needs reassurance (yet again) that he is the most jacked/ most gelled/ is more situation-y than Mike "The Situation" guy there is out there, but really, at least hold it above the steering wheel out in front of your fucking face so at least your peripherals will (maybe) catch if you begin to veer into oncoming traffic. Further more, I've navigated my phone enough to be able to manipulate what I want from it without needing to look at all the buttons all the time (like hitting the send button).
Perhaps everyone should be forced to retake drivers ed. If you're a competent driver (like myself...most of the time...I'm not claiming perfection here) than you should have nothing to worry about. However, if you are a ride-the-center-lane-er/proceed-to-drive-straight-in-a-turn-lane-go-er/ drive-and-text-while-looking-down-er/ from Ohio sign up for a class near you. On second thought do the rest of us a favor, stop being a fucktard and go ahead and turn your license in now and take the mass transit system.


Friday, February 5, 2010

That's WINIFRED...not Winfrey as in Oprah...

Ahhhh soooo long time reader first time blogger, Winifred, here...actually that issss a blatant...lie...I used to read the ol' blog but then pesky things like school and bills and drinking got ranked higher on the totem pole. It is my first time blogging though. It all started a few weeks ago when I was on my way home from my job at what I like to refer to as The Fuckit Mall. Really. That place blows the biggest dick I've never even seen. I hate it. On a daily basis it sucks out what little of a soul I was able to grow back overnight. ANYWAY. I was on my way home and Evelyn (my car) and I were putzing along jamming to some great tunes when HOE-rendous driver after HOE-rendous driver continued to offend me with their driving skills (or lack there of as the case may be). So once I finally made it home after multiple flips of the bird, honks, near-death experiences, etc I decided I was fired up enough to make a blog entry about it...for the blog I DON'T HAVE!!! There I said it. I'm pathetic enough to write blog entries for a blog that doesn't exist. Well maybe one day I would have one. One of my very own! One that I could decorate anyway I wanted to! What? Oh...blogging...right. So needless to say I spoke with Rose about coming (heh heh coming...as in cumming? haahahaha yup that's right i giggle at what one might call 'delightfully inappropriate' things? See what I did there?!) AAANNNYYYYWWAAAAYYYYY...Sister Rose told me to write an introductory post so here it is. And you can look forward to more cursing, inappropriate sex jokes, complaining about pointless things I actually do myself, etc.


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