maybe i'm not so awesome.

dear god,

why do nights of boozing always end up in shame? why does my stomach have endless amounts of mustard-yellow bile? why do i always feel some sense of regret, even when i've done nothing wrong? have i broken my spirit animal's soul? answer me, please - send me a message on facebook. just let me know what i can do to change the morning after.

i really hope that you'll give me some bomb ass advice, god, and i know you're supposed to be all-seeing and everywhere, but i'm sure you probably had better things to do than to keep an eye on me last night. so i thought i would share, in no particular order, some events for the evening so that you can be in the know and able to give me spot-on guidance. here goes:

1 - i accidently spat on schlomos mouth/chin after he chided me for fist bumping some white dude

2 - commander rainbow, who unfortunately i am going to have to break up with over my blog ...

segway: dear commander rainbow, it sure has been real, it sure has been fun. in fact it's been real fun, but we're just no good together. when we are together, trouble walks in our shadows. our minds become fuzzy. we end up making Very Bad Decisions. so, in an attempt to save my soul i suggest we part ways. so long, old friend.

... commander rainbow got molested and danced with drunk lesbians on ecstacy.

3 - i met jesse, the lead singer of eagles of death metal, gave him a hug and proceeded to speak in tongues from the language of deranged fan, ending my bout of diarrhea with the incorrect answer (ahem, small) to his question of "what's your size, baby!" admittedly, i thought he was asking about a t-shirt size, but clearly, that was not the case.

4 - commander rainbow slurping the dregs of some random man's almost finsihed drink, because a) they both liked the cramps and b) he offered it to her

5 - i scaled the wall at the fillmore to try to get out of the venue faster than everyone else, and convinced commander rainbow to pretend she would have to barf so people would let her through quicker. no one moved.

6 - i somehow lost my favorite puffy walking sleeping bag of a jacket. where are you, jacket?

7 - i barfed from about 7:15 to 8:30, and tried to hide it from jacob by turning on various water sources in the bathroom. helpful hint for barfers: that does not really help mask the sound of upchuck.

8 - i barfed out of my car on one of the side streets near amy wills' house. i think some of the local brothers thought that i was linda blair from the exorcist. they moved to the other side of the street.

9 - i barfed in my secret office at 360 22nd street. shhh. so secret.

10 - i feel like commander rainbow had a lot more shameful things that she did but really, looking at this list, it appears i outdid her.

i would also like to blame my drunkenness on work, because i have been working entirely too much, and got too excited when i went out and then inadvertently annhilated myself; rob, jj, and hunter, who hung out with me at the 500 club and saw my downward spiral and did nothing to stop it; getting old, because my total drink count was under 5, yet i somehow felt like i had drank a bottle of Early Times and the bar mats from whiskey thieves; and god. oh wait, that's you. i don't blame you, i need your help, and some answers, but mainly i would like for you to prevent me from devolving into a twat-faced barfing bulemic and prevent me from feeling immense shame.

i love you.

good night.

i'm gonna cornify your ass!

don't like what the interweb has to say? then get motherfucking cornerific on it! schlomo is responsible for this fantastic find. i was overjoyed when i could barf rainbows all over my DART For Publishers interface and poop sunshine on my online banking statement. fuck you, news and life management sites!

if your vagina could write ...

it would probably send a letter or email to the author of this blog, and confess all the terrible, terrible mistakes it has made. your nani would probably be saved from years of ineffective therapy and would find comfort in numbers as both it and you come to the realization that perhaps, just maybe, you really didn't bang the worst dude ever ...

mommy, can you teach me how to freak dance?

there very well might be a day when jacob says, "i've had it with you, you no good whore!" and shows me the door. and when that day comes, what will i do? i could get some bad plastic surgery, act like a coked-out nincompoop and troll the marina for some douchebag to call my own, or i could hit up the temple and learn to grind. for a quick lesson on freak dancing, apparently all you need to do is dance near a person you want to grind with and then dance with your hips together, taking care to bend your knees so that the bottom of your stomach gets the, uh, most friction. my favorite part about this article is the warning for men, which states: The person dancing in the rear should not keep a cell phone or wallet in a front pocket – girls may get the wrong idea. Move your phone to your back pocket. HA!

no one reads my blog but me.

today tony asked me why i haven't shared my blog with the world. and the truth is i'm scared and a pussy. that's pretty much why.

i guess it could be worse ...

so, i found out that 100 feral animals took over a mobile home today in temecula. where are you temecula, st. francis of the assisi would like to come visit. how do things get so bad that you allow 100 feral animals to cohabitate with you? i guess things are already bad if you are in a mobile home. maybe this is what happens to people that drink too much. they lose their friends and live in filth ... whoa! a sad, dim lightbulb went off in my head. maybe this is MY future. i shudder in horror.

i'm a gigantic failure

well, that cleanse lasted less than one day. say what you will, and i'll probably agree - i am a complete and utter failure with no will power. but i beg of you to try to drink senna tea and then 32 ounces of a "salt water flush" - you tell me how long you can last. scary shit will come out of your ass - the exorcist and the shining have nothing on what's hiding in your colon.

maybe 2009 is about acceptance. acceptance of the fact that i like fatty foods, booze drinks and many other things that are bad for you. if that is the case then maybe i'm a huge success for recognizing it.

time goes by slow ...

when you don't eat. it's a new year, and like several other ambitious people (also known as suckers) i'm trying to cleanse my mind and body. it's probably a good thing seeing as how i destroyed it in december. things that might come out of my ass tomorrow morning include an entire turkey, random pills from breakfast of champions and perhaps a marble. maybe i'll do a triptych entitled "three days of colonic sludge." it'll be a one-two punch for my new years resolutions - get healthy and embrace the arts.

a subtle end to oversharing.

so, i really battled with this blog entry. did i want to write it, because although it might be funny, it might incriminate colleagues and friends and i don't want to be in the business of publickly shaming people, unless they really, really deserve it. the orignal post was going to be about inappropriate topics discussed in the work place - bladder infections, gas, accidently waking up naked next to your brother. i basically had an ethical dilemma on my hands - do i make people laugh if it means others will cry?!?! ho man, i took WEEKS thinking about whether this was cool to write and i decided it wasn't, really.

but today, on my way back from whole foods, heather and amy came up with this fantastic idea - which is to create a diorama (shadowbox!) about oversharing at work. it could be a tool to teach others what topics aren't really cool to talk about over sandwiches and side salads. capturing uncomfortable moments by using a 3D snapshot of awesomeness and then anonymously delivering them to the culprit might be the most pure act of kindness i could endow. plus it'd be fun to do when i'm stoned - making the diorama, that is.

for example, to represent the time i was told that a colleage had a particularly "heavy flow," i'd use an o.b. tampon and paint a little face on it - maybe dress it up real nice in a paper doll dress - to represent my friend ... and then i'd make the shadow box look like our office kitchen - or maybe just like the Office, because that would be funny. i'd soak half of the o.b. in ketchup and paint a little puddle under it in nail polish. i'd have a bunch of little tampon people hiding in the corner, and i'd make little word bubbles come out of their mouths saying stuff like "ew" or "uncool" or "guess i don't want to eat my soup anymore." then i'd put a bow on the diorama and leave it on said colleages desk, or maybe put it up for auction on ebay and send my coworker the link. it'd be mysterious, but to the point. effective, yet considerate. a management holy grail, if you will - a power tool when i am otherwise powerless. yeah. dioramas. gonna get right on that!

my horn can pierce the sky

i found what i want for christmas - it's princess unicorn!


"Princess Unicorn, the most beautiful in all the land.
Grab her wand and let your imagination soar.
Unlock the magic of Princess Unicorn"

but even more awesome than the fact you can pick a caucasion OR african american Princess Unicorn are these people. maybe one day I can friend all of them on the Facebook. actually, that's my xmas wish - to meet more people with horns implanted on their foreheads - at least it is today.

musings on a zit named frank ...

in 2002 or thereabouts, my chin started to hurt. it was a dull, deep pain that ended up growing into an incredibly large and painful zit. it wasn't an ordinary pimple - there wasn't any whitehead oozing with pus or a blackhead hinting at burrowed dirtiness. there was just this really big, really painful thing squatting on my fucking chin. and, there was no way to hide this growth. no amount of cover up could make this mountain disappear.

did i mention i was about 26 when this happened? it was not like i was approaching puberty, with waves of new hormones crashing through my body. it was like a cruel joke that someone was playing on me. i basically had a second head growing out of my chin. for all i knew it was a dermoid cyst, full of teeth and hair, or a parasitic twin that would be born from below my mouth.

oh, and i was also single at this time, so it was totally 100% awesome trying to meet guys while looking like a confused cousin of rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. while i don't really have a rack to stare at anyway, each prospective male piece of ass would have his eyes wander downward ... right to the large zit on my face.

after a week, the zit was still there, so i decided to embrace it and welcome it into my life. i couldn't really evict it from the real estate that was my face - that would involve really unhygenic self-surgery that could result in scarring. i don't know why i didn't go to a dermatologist and get the thing blasted with cortazone - anyway, all that is besides the point - i ended up naming my zit. i named him frank.

frank hung around for a while back in the early 2000s, and often comes back to visit. sometimes he'll send his cousin, francine, whose smaller and less cystic - either way, they are both usually unwelcome. actually, i can't think of any ideal time for him to post up on my chin ... he's quite a pest, that frank.

so, the latest on sir frank is that he's elected to spend the holidays with me - unannounced, as per usual. it's kind of uncomfortable, rude, and inconvenient. it limits my ability to wear slutastic red lipstick or to draw attention to my otherwise stately chin area. i'm sort of questioning if i should extend the holiday spirit to include blemishes and allow him to stay, or if i should put an end to his casual encounters with my face forever via a bottle of antibiotics. i wonder if i'd have phantom pains once frank is gone ...

5 hobbies I'm taking up ...

... now that I'm 100% sober.

1. religious needlepoint - first project to focus on animals boarding noah's ark. i plan to have two unicorns trailing the line up smoking a joint. do they make the ark? only those who believe know the real answer.

2. indoor pistol shooting.

3. elephant training or beekeeping - whichever one better conveys the fact that i am a badass motherfucker not afraid of danger.

4 - live action role playing, weather permitting. i will find like-minded gamers and meet on hippie hill. we'll break free of the chains that our computers have placed on us.

5. train spotting. i'll be somewhere along the n line.