Dear Sir/madam/automated telephone answering service:
Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Pasco police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead. Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this message on to your colleagues in Pasco by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or ouji board.
As I'm writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them teens) on my road just about 3 houses away. Six of them seem happy enough to play a game which involves kicking a football against an iron gate with the force of a meteorite. This causes an earth shattering CLANG! Which rings throughout my entire home. This game is now in it's third week and as I am unsure how the scoring system works, I have no idea if it will end any time soon.
The remaining five walking abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of trash and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the garbage cans. One of them has found a saw and is going to town on a discarded chair like a beaver on speed. I fear that it's only a matter of time before they turn their limited attention to the gallon of gasoline that is lying on it's side between the two bins. If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches. Unfortunately they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I've just finished decorating my kitchen.
What I suggest is this. After replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably a night when I just want to rest) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again. This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like.
I trust that when I take a claw-hammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you'll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me.
I remain sir, your obedient servant
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ma'am -
I have read your e-mail and understand you frustration at the problems caused by teenagers playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police. As the Community Watch Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you. Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.
Regards-
#387
Community Watch Officer
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear #387
First of all I would like to thank you for the speedy response to my original e-mail. 16 hours and 38 minutes must be a personal record for Pasco Police Department and rest assured that I will forward these details to McGruff (the crime fighting dog) for inclusion in his next book.
Secondly I was delighted to hear that our street has it's own community watch officer. May I be the first to congratulate you on your covert skills. In the 3 or so years I have lived in Pasco, I have never seen you. Do you hide up a tree or have you gone deep undercover and infiltrated the gang itself? Are you the one with the acne and the moustache on his forehead or the one with a chin like a hand washing station? It's surely only a matter of time before you are head-hunted by Lara Croft.
Whilst I realise that there may be far more serious crimes taking place in Pasco such as smoking in a public place or being Muslim, is it too much to ask for a policeman to explain (using words of no more than two syllables at a time) to these *twats* (For lack of a better word) that they might want to play their strange Soccer game elsewhere?
Should you wish to discuss these matters further you should feel free to contact me on my cell. If after 25 minutes I have still failed to answer, keep trying, as I do for you.
My Regards-
Jess
4.4.09
Toad Tap Dance
Toad Tap Dance
While doing some spring cleaning last year, I came across a tiny toad, that for sake of this post, (and the toads family...) I have cleverly changed his name to 'frog-miester'. For those readers that know me particularly well you may or may not have heard me talk about him from time to time.
Over the past year, I have repeatedly saved him from my terribly mean cat Scootahs' clutches and the massive swirly of the pool filter.
I have been feeding him cat food and ants. (I do not even know if toads eat such things, but he seemed like he liked them)
Everyday, at around the same time, frog-meister would come to visit me. There were times he hopped into my house and I would find him eating (well sitting and looking like he was eating) directly out of my cats bowl. (This toad definitley had a death wish, BTW) Over time he grew larger and larger, until he looked like a pretty big sized toad. (Must have been all the cat food) I'm not even sure of what a toads lifespan may be or whether or not this was even the same toad, but for my sanity and the purpose of this post running smoothly we will say it was. I became rather attached to this little wart ridden mongrel, it got to the point if I didnt see him by 10 o'clock, I would promptly check the pool filter to see if he was in there swirling around. (It always seemed like I'd just get there in the nick of time!) One time he actually PISSED on me after I saved him, but I figured this was just his way of saying "thank you" and HEY, we're friends...so I let it slide.
Anyway - the past few weeks my roommates and I have been doing some massive cleaning on the pool, trying to get it ready for summer.. So last night I go outside to check on the status of the filter... (I wanted to make sure it didnt need to be cleaned)(Keep in mind it was horrendously dark and I was using the dim light of my cell phone to find my way around) ..when I feel something sort of like a rock but softer underneath my foot.
My heart sank.
Knowing what might have occured, I scurried back inside trying to block the mental picture out of my brain. I didnt have the balls to go back outside and look at the evidence. I thoroughly hoped I would wake up this morning and see absolutley nothing and then this would all be a horrible trick my tired mind pulled on me.
Not the case.
This morning I wake up and this is what I found...
MAY YOU REST IN PEACE LITTLE BUDDY.
Services will be held this Sunday in my backyard. All neighborhood toads are welcome
While doing some spring cleaning last year, I came across a tiny toad, that for sake of this post, (and the toads family...) I have cleverly changed his name to 'frog-miester'. For those readers that know me particularly well you may or may not have heard me talk about him from time to time.
Over the past year, I have repeatedly saved him from my terribly mean cat Scootahs' clutches and the massive swirly of the pool filter.
I have been feeding him cat food and ants. (I do not even know if toads eat such things, but he seemed like he liked them)
Everyday, at around the same time, frog-meister would come to visit me. There were times he hopped into my house and I would find him eating (well sitting and looking like he was eating) directly out of my cats bowl. (This toad definitley had a death wish, BTW) Over time he grew larger and larger, until he looked like a pretty big sized toad. (Must have been all the cat food) I'm not even sure of what a toads lifespan may be or whether or not this was even the same toad, but for my sanity and the purpose of this post running smoothly we will say it was. I became rather attached to this little wart ridden mongrel, it got to the point if I didnt see him by 10 o'clock, I would promptly check the pool filter to see if he was in there swirling around. (It always seemed like I'd just get there in the nick of time!) One time he actually PISSED on me after I saved him, but I figured this was just his way of saying "thank you" and HEY, we're friends...so I let it slide.
Anyway - the past few weeks my roommates and I have been doing some massive cleaning on the pool, trying to get it ready for summer.. So last night I go outside to check on the status of the filter... (I wanted to make sure it didnt need to be cleaned)(Keep in mind it was horrendously dark and I was using the dim light of my cell phone to find my way around) ..when I feel something sort of like a rock but softer underneath my foot.
My heart sank.
Knowing what might have occured, I scurried back inside trying to block the mental picture out of my brain. I didnt have the balls to go back outside and look at the evidence. I thoroughly hoped I would wake up this morning and see absolutley nothing and then this would all be a horrible trick my tired mind pulled on me.
Not the case.
This morning I wake up and this is what I found...
MAY YOU REST IN PEACE LITTLE BUDDY.
Services will be held this Sunday in my backyard. All neighborhood toads are welcome
Ryde Or Die
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
"Ryde Or Die"
I have been getting hate mail and all kinds of bullshit since switching offices, and I'm fucking OVER IT. I have been nothing but nice to each and every person I have met, and get nothing but shit for it. I opened my heart and been REAL with people, only to have it used against me. I have stuck by people for the the long haul just to get shafted in an instant. You think you know someone, but really, you know nothing at all. God DAMNN I'm pissed. You know I used to be chill and non-confrontational, now I feel like I'm constantly fighting against the grain. Every single fucking day some new bullshit pops up and at this point its just to the point where I just don't even care enough to fucking find out the source. Fuck it. I'm a 'ryde or die bitch' for lack of a better phrase and I expect my friends to be the same. Too bad I cant expect that from anyone anymore. I will stick up for my friends and it doesn't change because one of my other 'friends' hates them, or we get in a Lil fight. It doesn't change cause we spend time apart, or I don't like who they choose as their mate. It doesn't change if we're states away from each other, it DEF doesn't change if they get in trouble..I'm there to help. It doesn't change if they are friends with other people, or per situation. It doesnt change to 'suit me', or to make my life fucking easier, and if I hear something about them each and every person reading this (who knows me) knows DAMN RIGHT I will go to them and ask their side of the story before I develop an opinion of my own. I give everyone a chance. I give them multiple chances actually. If I have a problem with someone, they will KNOW who they are. I won't just walk by with dirty eyes and ignore them completely, then whisper when they walk away. I don't need to go to 50 fucking people and then by the time it gets to that person its blown up out of proportion. I don't have time for that. I don't have time for fucking games. Bottom line, I see where I stand with some, and see where I fell with others.
A 'friend' is someone who another person knows, likes, and trusts. Someone who is allied in a struggle, or cause; a comrade. A person known well to another and regarded with affection and loyalty, an ally in a fight, a patron or supporter, a confidant, a maintainer, sustainer, or upholder, a person who will vouch for you. A friend. LOOK IT THE FUCK UP. Cause seems like a few of us have forgotten what it means to be ryde or die.. PEACE.
BTW- if this offends you.. it's probably because it rings true. You probably think this blog is about YOU. It's not. And in that case... I didn't need you in my life anyway. Kick Rocks.
"Ryde Or Die"
I have been getting hate mail and all kinds of bullshit since switching offices, and I'm fucking OVER IT. I have been nothing but nice to each and every person I have met, and get nothing but shit for it. I opened my heart and been REAL with people, only to have it used against me. I have stuck by people for the the long haul just to get shafted in an instant. You think you know someone, but really, you know nothing at all. God DAMNN I'm pissed. You know I used to be chill and non-confrontational, now I feel like I'm constantly fighting against the grain. Every single fucking day some new bullshit pops up and at this point its just to the point where I just don't even care enough to fucking find out the source. Fuck it. I'm a 'ryde or die bitch' for lack of a better phrase and I expect my friends to be the same. Too bad I cant expect that from anyone anymore. I will stick up for my friends and it doesn't change because one of my other 'friends' hates them, or we get in a Lil fight. It doesn't change cause we spend time apart, or I don't like who they choose as their mate. It doesn't change if we're states away from each other, it DEF doesn't change if they get in trouble..I'm there to help. It doesn't change if they are friends with other people, or per situation. It doesnt change to 'suit me', or to make my life fucking easier, and if I hear something about them each and every person reading this (who knows me) knows DAMN RIGHT I will go to them and ask their side of the story before I develop an opinion of my own. I give everyone a chance. I give them multiple chances actually. If I have a problem with someone, they will KNOW who they are. I won't just walk by with dirty eyes and ignore them completely, then whisper when they walk away. I don't need to go to 50 fucking people and then by the time it gets to that person its blown up out of proportion. I don't have time for that. I don't have time for fucking games. Bottom line, I see where I stand with some, and see where I fell with others.
A 'friend' is someone who another person knows, likes, and trusts. Someone who is allied in a struggle, or cause; a comrade. A person known well to another and regarded with affection and loyalty, an ally in a fight, a patron or supporter, a confidant, a maintainer, sustainer, or upholder, a person who will vouch for you. A friend. LOOK IT THE FUCK UP. Cause seems like a few of us have forgotten what it means to be ryde or die.. PEACE.
BTW- if this offends you.. it's probably because it rings true. You probably think this blog is about YOU. It's not. And in that case... I didn't need you in my life anyway. Kick Rocks.
Me, Myself, and WTF?
Friday, April 03, 2009
Me, Myself, and WTF?
Last night was the finale of "Make Me a Supermodel". Yes, I've spent the last 13 weeks watching this show, which was less like a show and more like a bad accident where I just couldn't turn my head away no matter how grotesque it became.
Like your typical reality program, week by week, one of these stunning, vacuous people was told, "I'm sorry, but America has voted and they do not believe you have what it takes to be a supermodel" and week by week, I spent an hour of my life becoming more and more emotionally invested in Ben's poor run on the catwalk or the fact that "Sarah the skeleton" wasn't living up to her daily commitment to stop eating and exercise more.
Right after they announced the winner, the credits immediately began to roll. It was as though 12 of my best friends, who in real life, would have never given me the time of day, left without even so much as a goodbye. It was so quick and out of nowhere I felt this empty feeling inside me that I had no idea how to fill.
Frozen yogurt? Some fresh pineapple? No, it was too late at night to indulge in anything food related. Sex? Sure, but that would have meant hiring someone and I'm really trying to stick to a budget. What then? What could I have done to make me feel whole again? Would Thursday night every be the same? What was I to do? Turn off the TV? Get a real life? I guess but is there life outside of Ben, Sarah, Perry or Shannon? And what if my Tuesday friends on "The Biggest Loser" found out? Would they be hurt to the point of binge eating? And how about Wednesdays and those hard working folks on Top Chef? Who are they really cooking for? Tom Colicchio or me?
As I sat, leaning against my coffee table in the dark, the only light, the glow from my television, I knew that giving up my TV and getting a life was not going to solve anything. And then, suddenly, clear as the colors on the screen, I had my answer. "I Wanna Be A Dancer" hosted by Elizabeth Berkeley, every Thursday night at ten on the Bravo Channel. Nicole, Nick, Tovah (Collins not Feldshuh), James and best of all, Jessica, a gal just like me only blonder, longer legged, happier and more flexible. Twelve new friends, coming into my home every Thursday, dancing their hearts out, while I sit, watching, my heart racing, wondering, "who will go home this week? Who will be the one at the end of the night, sitting in alone in front of the camera, vowing to the world, "this isn't the last you're going to hear from me" even though both they and I and the entire rest of the world, know, that in fact, it will be.
You know, during the tough times, I've often heard people say that life is a series of one Reality TV show ending and another beginning to air and that our only job is to trust that and go on with our lives, even if, like me, you don't have one.
Me, Myself, and WTF?
Last night was the finale of "Make Me a Supermodel". Yes, I've spent the last 13 weeks watching this show, which was less like a show and more like a bad accident where I just couldn't turn my head away no matter how grotesque it became.
Like your typical reality program, week by week, one of these stunning, vacuous people was told, "I'm sorry, but America has voted and they do not believe you have what it takes to be a supermodel" and week by week, I spent an hour of my life becoming more and more emotionally invested in Ben's poor run on the catwalk or the fact that "Sarah the skeleton" wasn't living up to her daily commitment to stop eating and exercise more.
Right after they announced the winner, the credits immediately began to roll. It was as though 12 of my best friends, who in real life, would have never given me the time of day, left without even so much as a goodbye. It was so quick and out of nowhere I felt this empty feeling inside me that I had no idea how to fill.
Frozen yogurt? Some fresh pineapple? No, it was too late at night to indulge in anything food related. Sex? Sure, but that would have meant hiring someone and I'm really trying to stick to a budget. What then? What could I have done to make me feel whole again? Would Thursday night every be the same? What was I to do? Turn off the TV? Get a real life? I guess but is there life outside of Ben, Sarah, Perry or Shannon? And what if my Tuesday friends on "The Biggest Loser" found out? Would they be hurt to the point of binge eating? And how about Wednesdays and those hard working folks on Top Chef? Who are they really cooking for? Tom Colicchio or me?
As I sat, leaning against my coffee table in the dark, the only light, the glow from my television, I knew that giving up my TV and getting a life was not going to solve anything. And then, suddenly, clear as the colors on the screen, I had my answer. "I Wanna Be A Dancer" hosted by Elizabeth Berkeley, every Thursday night at ten on the Bravo Channel. Nicole, Nick, Tovah (Collins not Feldshuh), James and best of all, Jessica, a gal just like me only blonder, longer legged, happier and more flexible. Twelve new friends, coming into my home every Thursday, dancing their hearts out, while I sit, watching, my heart racing, wondering, "who will go home this week? Who will be the one at the end of the night, sitting in alone in front of the camera, vowing to the world, "this isn't the last you're going to hear from me" even though both they and I and the entire rest of the world, know, that in fact, it will be.
You know, during the tough times, I've often heard people say that life is a series of one Reality TV show ending and another beginning to air and that our only job is to trust that and go on with our lives, even if, like me, you don't have one.
Letter to the 7-11 Manager who added me to the "Banned for LIFE" List
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Letter To The 7-11 Manager Who Added Me To The "Banned for Life" List
Dear 7-11 Manager,
You should really post a sign reading, "Do not drink directly from the nozzle" on your Slurpee machine if that is your store policy.
Thanks,
Jess
Letter To The 7-11 Manager Who Added Me To The "Banned for Life" List
Dear 7-11 Manager,
You should really post a sign reading, "Do not drink directly from the nozzle" on your Slurpee machine if that is your store policy.
Thanks,
Jess
Assault With a Deadly Sausage
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Assault With a Deadly Sausage
Those are 5 words I love to hear in the evening. This shit right here sounds like the flimsy plot of a gay porn movie. It's not, but you can still make it extra sexy by taking off your pants, snuggling up to an 8-inch pork sausage and imagining the "bow chicka bow bow" song playing in the background.
21-year-old Antonio Vasquez was arrested in Fresno on Saturday morning for allegedly breaking into a home, stealing $900 and then beating one dude with a giant sausage and rubbing spices in the face of another. I told you this was going to be sexy.
It all started when Santiago Cabrera was sleeping on the porch of his home in Fresno, CA on Saturday morning. Santiago suddenly woke up to Antonio hitting him in the face with an 8-inch sausage. If only I had such problems.
While Santiago struggled to get up, Antonio kept hitting him in the face and head with his giant sausage. After Antonio was finished beating Santiago with his massive juicy sausage,(I love writing that), he ran inside the house and found Cesar Macias sleeping on a futon in the family room.
Instead of attacking Cesar with the meat, Antonio threw Pappy's seasoning in his face! A load of hot spices to the face! This just gets better and better...
Pappy's is made from "high quality all purpose spice blends, sauces and marinades."
...I bet it is.
Before busting out of the house, Antonio took off his shorts, with his drivers license, credit cards and cell phone in its pockets. He ran into an orange orchard with only a t-shirt and boxers on. He looks like the type who will beat you with his big sausage and then run off into the morning. Typical
Antonio was quickly caught by the cops in a field. They recovered the money, but the pork sausage was nowhere to be seen. When the cops asked Antonio where it was, he answered, "a dog ate it."
Antonio is currently being held on $100,000 bail.
Assault With a Deadly Sausage
Those are 5 words I love to hear in the evening. This shit right here sounds like the flimsy plot of a gay porn movie. It's not, but you can still make it extra sexy by taking off your pants, snuggling up to an 8-inch pork sausage and imagining the "bow chicka bow bow" song playing in the background.
21-year-old Antonio Vasquez was arrested in Fresno on Saturday morning for allegedly breaking into a home, stealing $900 and then beating one dude with a giant sausage and rubbing spices in the face of another. I told you this was going to be sexy.
It all started when Santiago Cabrera was sleeping on the porch of his home in Fresno, CA on Saturday morning. Santiago suddenly woke up to Antonio hitting him in the face with an 8-inch sausage. If only I had such problems.
While Santiago struggled to get up, Antonio kept hitting him in the face and head with his giant sausage. After Antonio was finished beating Santiago with his massive juicy sausage,(I love writing that), he ran inside the house and found Cesar Macias sleeping on a futon in the family room.
Instead of attacking Cesar with the meat, Antonio threw Pappy's seasoning in his face! A load of hot spices to the face! This just gets better and better...
Pappy's is made from "high quality all purpose spice blends, sauces and marinades."
...I bet it is.
Before busting out of the house, Antonio took off his shorts, with his drivers license, credit cards and cell phone in its pockets. He ran into an orange orchard with only a t-shirt and boxers on. He looks like the type who will beat you with his big sausage and then run off into the morning. Typical
Antonio was quickly caught by the cops in a field. They recovered the money, but the pork sausage was nowhere to be seen. When the cops asked Antonio where it was, he answered, "a dog ate it."
Antonio is currently being held on $100,000 bail.
Fake ass Friends
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Fake Ass Friends
I been thinking alot as of late. Thinking about decisions Ive made and where they've taken me. Thinking about people I know I now and the ones I left behind. Thinking about how much Ive changed and how Ive forgotten [lost] myself in the midst of everything. Its amazing how one event can trigger such strong emotion and regret, such happiness and sadness, all at the same time. Its crazy how the mind can 'trick' you and strategically 'forget' the things that make you tick. Next thing you know youre just another mindless automaton wandering aimlessly through the days. Confused about who you are and why youre here.. trying to fix the past.. so you can regain what once was.
When I was younger, all I did was dream of a way OUT. Now that Im older, all I can hope for is a way back IN. I thought that moving to Florida and starting fresh in a place where nobody knew me from Adam would change me. I thought it would give me a new beginning. I thought that I could run from everything and forget it ever happened. I thought the mistakes that I made would disappear, I thought I could create something new that was purer, more free, from my tainted life back home.
Now I realize Ive spent the last three years trying to replace what I left behind.
It will never be the same. I came here with my pipe dreams of sunny days and truer people. I came here thinking I could change it all. All I got was hard grass, dead palm trees, white trash crackheads, and fake ass friends. When I was driving here, I thought that Florida was like a constant episode of The Brady Bunch. Actually, I dont know what the fuck I thought, to be honest. I just wanted to get away. Now I just want to get what I had BACK. I miss my friends, I miss the way they knew me. The way I could truly be myself without worrying about perception of others translating into a constant reality. I miss my BOYS, I miss my girls, I miss my CAR. Lol. I miss the trust I had with people, I miss the crazy things we did. I miss my fam. It disturbs me how distant we've become. Superficial conversations and cold gifts on holidays just make my observations that much more of a reality. I wonder if Ive made a huge, huge, HUGE mistake. So huge its not fixable. I miss not being scared to walk down my streets, I miss REAL smiles. I hate these smokescreen glances I throw to make an appearance. I miss TRUE friends. Im so sick of these flighty two faced pieces of shit Florida seems to have a neverending supply of. I miss the MONEY. Sucks when you grow up with everything youve ever wanted and you get it all taken away because you want a change. What a reality check I had when I came out here and found out I actually had to PAY for something on my own. I appreciated nothing. I miss the MUSIC. I miss the CLUBS. Miami is the only place that comes close in this dump. I miss feeling warm and comfortable everywhere I went, instead of cold and unknown. Ugghh. Starting over isnt all its cracked up to be. All I did was move out here with a chance to make it all different and I just keep trying to recreate the same. What a damn shame.
Seriously..What a motherfucking shame.
Sorry, just venting.
Rock$teady.
Fake Ass Friends
I been thinking alot as of late. Thinking about decisions Ive made and where they've taken me. Thinking about people I know I now and the ones I left behind. Thinking about how much Ive changed and how Ive forgotten [lost] myself in the midst of everything. Its amazing how one event can trigger such strong emotion and regret, such happiness and sadness, all at the same time. Its crazy how the mind can 'trick' you and strategically 'forget' the things that make you tick. Next thing you know youre just another mindless automaton wandering aimlessly through the days. Confused about who you are and why youre here.. trying to fix the past.. so you can regain what once was.
When I was younger, all I did was dream of a way OUT. Now that Im older, all I can hope for is a way back IN. I thought that moving to Florida and starting fresh in a place where nobody knew me from Adam would change me. I thought it would give me a new beginning. I thought that I could run from everything and forget it ever happened. I thought the mistakes that I made would disappear, I thought I could create something new that was purer, more free, from my tainted life back home.
Now I realize Ive spent the last three years trying to replace what I left behind.
It will never be the same. I came here with my pipe dreams of sunny days and truer people. I came here thinking I could change it all. All I got was hard grass, dead palm trees, white trash crackheads, and fake ass friends. When I was driving here, I thought that Florida was like a constant episode of The Brady Bunch. Actually, I dont know what the fuck I thought, to be honest. I just wanted to get away. Now I just want to get what I had BACK. I miss my friends, I miss the way they knew me. The way I could truly be myself without worrying about perception of others translating into a constant reality. I miss my BOYS, I miss my girls, I miss my CAR. Lol. I miss the trust I had with people, I miss the crazy things we did. I miss my fam. It disturbs me how distant we've become. Superficial conversations and cold gifts on holidays just make my observations that much more of a reality. I wonder if Ive made a huge, huge, HUGE mistake. So huge its not fixable. I miss not being scared to walk down my streets, I miss REAL smiles. I hate these smokescreen glances I throw to make an appearance. I miss TRUE friends. Im so sick of these flighty two faced pieces of shit Florida seems to have a neverending supply of. I miss the MONEY. Sucks when you grow up with everything youve ever wanted and you get it all taken away because you want a change. What a reality check I had when I came out here and found out I actually had to PAY for something on my own. I appreciated nothing. I miss the MUSIC. I miss the CLUBS. Miami is the only place that comes close in this dump. I miss feeling warm and comfortable everywhere I went, instead of cold and unknown. Ugghh. Starting over isnt all its cracked up to be. All I did was move out here with a chance to make it all different and I just keep trying to recreate the same. What a damn shame.
Seriously..What a motherfucking shame.
Sorry, just venting.
Rock$teady.
Working out CAN be bad for you
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Working Out CAN Be Bad For You
WORK OUT PLANNED
Swim
Lift weights
Go home
WORK OUT NOT PLANNED
Enter Locker Room
Tell stranger I like her sweat jacket
End up with strangers business card and an offer to be part of a shopping ponzi scheme
Change into swim suit
Close locker
Climb 37 stairs to get to pool
Put on Goggles
Goggles Break
Climb down 37 stairs to locker room
Open Locker
Put on sweatpants over bathing suit, grab wallet
Close locker
Go into sport shop inside gym
Buy overpriced goggles
Go back inside locker room
Put sweatpants and wallet back into locker
Close locker
Locker door won't close all the way
Try again
Still nothing
Try again
Nope
Move all my s**t to another locker
Close new locker
Climb 37 steps to get to the pool
Begin to put on bathing cap
Bathing cap rips
Walk down 37 steps to locker room
Open locker
Put on sweats over bathing suit, grab wallet
Close locker
Go to sports store (still located inside gym)
Buy overpriced bathing cap
Go back into locker room
Put sweats and wallet back into locker
Lock locker
Climb 37 steps to pool
Get to edge of pool
Notice attractive man in lane next to me sitting on edge of pool
Smile
Get no smile in return
Look down, realize haven't shaved in a LONG time
Contemplate drowning myself
Realize nothing would make my ex MIL happier
Swim laps
Change out of swim suit
Put on workout clothes
Fail to notice sexy indentations around eyes from new goggles
Go to weight room
Get on weight machine
Look down, notice skin on shins literally flaking off
Recall how drying chlorine can be
Slyly put a little saliva on hand and then rub it on leg to get shine back
Doesn’t work
Now pretend not to care
Go to another weight machine
Catch eye with man I think old enough to be my father then realize I ‘m old enough to be his girlfriend.
Watch as man notices my legs
Tell man my name is Jessica but he can call me crocodile
Man laughs A LITTLE
I laugh, too hard
Return to Locker room
Make note to self to shave and put on lotion everyday for the rest of my life
Shower
Go home
Write this blog post.
Nap.
Working Out CAN Be Bad For You
WORK OUT PLANNED
Swim
Lift weights
Go home
WORK OUT NOT PLANNED
Enter Locker Room
Tell stranger I like her sweat jacket
End up with strangers business card and an offer to be part of a shopping ponzi scheme
Change into swim suit
Close locker
Climb 37 stairs to get to pool
Put on Goggles
Goggles Break
Climb down 37 stairs to locker room
Open Locker
Put on sweatpants over bathing suit, grab wallet
Close locker
Go into sport shop inside gym
Buy overpriced goggles
Go back inside locker room
Put sweatpants and wallet back into locker
Close locker
Locker door won't close all the way
Try again
Still nothing
Try again
Nope
Move all my s**t to another locker
Close new locker
Climb 37 steps to get to the pool
Begin to put on bathing cap
Bathing cap rips
Walk down 37 steps to locker room
Open locker
Put on sweats over bathing suit, grab wallet
Close locker
Go to sports store (still located inside gym)
Buy overpriced bathing cap
Go back into locker room
Put sweats and wallet back into locker
Lock locker
Climb 37 steps to pool
Get to edge of pool
Notice attractive man in lane next to me sitting on edge of pool
Smile
Get no smile in return
Look down, realize haven't shaved in a LONG time
Contemplate drowning myself
Realize nothing would make my ex MIL happier
Swim laps
Change out of swim suit
Put on workout clothes
Fail to notice sexy indentations around eyes from new goggles
Go to weight room
Get on weight machine
Look down, notice skin on shins literally flaking off
Recall how drying chlorine can be
Slyly put a little saliva on hand and then rub it on leg to get shine back
Doesn’t work
Now pretend not to care
Go to another weight machine
Catch eye with man I think old enough to be my father then realize I ‘m old enough to be his girlfriend.
Watch as man notices my legs
Tell man my name is Jessica but he can call me crocodile
Man laughs A LITTLE
I laugh, too hard
Return to Locker room
Make note to self to shave and put on lotion everyday for the rest of my life
Shower
Go home
Write this blog post.
Nap.
3.4.09
To the Guy who booked my Vacation to Mexico
Dear sir,
While on vacation here in Mexico, My partner and I noticed we dont fit in like we should. There are too many Spanish people. The receptionist speaks Spanish. The food is Spanish. The store owners are Spanish. The hotel we're staying at is sporting 'Spanish tiles'. The Police officers are not labeled as so. Rather, "Federales". This could get confusing to someone like me. We hear Spanish music. We hate Spanish music. There's just too many foreigners. Topless sunbathing on the beach should be banned as well. The vacation was ruined as my boyfriend spent all day looking at other women. We are requesting a full refund for any and all monies we paid toward your services.
Also, my boyfriend and I booked a twin-bedded room but we were placed in a double-bedded room. We now hold you responsible for the fact that I find myself pregnant. This would not have happened if you had put us in the room that we booked.
Thanks-
Jess
While on vacation here in Mexico, My partner and I noticed we dont fit in like we should. There are too many Spanish people. The receptionist speaks Spanish. The food is Spanish. The store owners are Spanish. The hotel we're staying at is sporting 'Spanish tiles'. The Police officers are not labeled as so. Rather, "Federales". This could get confusing to someone like me. We hear Spanish music. We hate Spanish music. There's just too many foreigners. Topless sunbathing on the beach should be banned as well. The vacation was ruined as my boyfriend spent all day looking at other women. We are requesting a full refund for any and all monies we paid toward your services.
Also, my boyfriend and I booked a twin-bedded room but we were placed in a double-bedded room. We now hold you responsible for the fact that I find myself pregnant. This would not have happened if you had put us in the room that we booked.
Thanks-
Jess
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