I just finished watching the Hills and as much as I think none of these girls are anything to write home about, I can not help but notice that when these bitches cry, they cry black tears and look prettier than I do. ever. Even when I have just freshly applied six layers of whatever mascara LC said I need to wear in order to look just like her, I am still uglier than that bitch when she is having a tsunami coming out of her eye balls.
I am so sick and tired of turning on this stupid show, losing twenty brain cells and then wondering how I can look more like them. The problem is that if I were to make an appearance on the show, LC would not only put me in the extra house for Audrina, she would put me in a god damn kitty litter box as a) I would be like their not so cool older friend b) my breasts combined are about the same size as one of Heidi's and c) I am so freakin pale and not blonde it is frightening.
However the major problem is that when I cry, I am mother f&ckin busted. It is true, I have always imagined that I can woo some boy by shedding some tears and even using some of LC's lines like "gee, I thought we were friends and I am so sick and tired of having friends who don't like me." However, after whatever eligible bachelor leaves, I go to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror and realize I look nothing like LC when I cry. I look more like a swamp creature than anything. There is no makeup that can resolve that problem.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Are We at the Zoo?
After a long talk with M&M this weekend wherein they told me that the real reason that I am single is that I have not been exposed to legitimate prospects, I yelled at them and demanded that they get out of my basement. After the mild temper tantrum I threw, I reflected on my history and decided that it is true, I have mingled only with sub-humans since I was roughly twenty four. Before I was twenty four, I mingled with mostly sub-humans interspersed with some homo sapiens.
As it turns out, I have probably have "dated" (I use this term very loosely as I am not sure what other people consider dating) a quarter of Manhattan degenerates with the hopes that they do not know any better but to date me. It is true that I am in no position to negotiate these prospects given that it is has been roughly a year since I have held down a job. Okay, that is a lie. It has been roughly twenty seven years since I have held down a legitimate job. Perhaps if you do not have a legitimate job, you also do not have legitimate "boyfriends?" I thought about why I have allowed my standards to drop so low and decided it might be a defense mechanism. If I were to come across a legitimate homo sapien, I might find that he has other prospects that are superior to me. However, this theory does not hold up given that not even these homeless people want to date me and pass me up for lesser prospects.
So what gives? I posed the question to E who also has had similar luck on the "dating front" and she simply asked "what makes you think that you deserve to date anything aside from sub-humans?" It is true. She is right and in my free time I am going to the zoo to pick out my next boyfriend.
As it turns out, I have probably have "dated" (I use this term very loosely as I am not sure what other people consider dating) a quarter of Manhattan degenerates with the hopes that they do not know any better but to date me. It is true that I am in no position to negotiate these prospects given that it is has been roughly a year since I have held down a job. Okay, that is a lie. It has been roughly twenty seven years since I have held down a legitimate job. Perhaps if you do not have a legitimate job, you also do not have legitimate "boyfriends?" I thought about why I have allowed my standards to drop so low and decided it might be a defense mechanism. If I were to come across a legitimate homo sapien, I might find that he has other prospects that are superior to me. However, this theory does not hold up given that not even these homeless people want to date me and pass me up for lesser prospects.
So what gives? I posed the question to E who also has had similar luck on the "dating front" and she simply asked "what makes you think that you deserve to date anything aside from sub-humans?" It is true. She is right and in my free time I am going to the zoo to pick out my next boyfriend.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
When It Rains, It also Shits
Well, well, well this has been the worst week of my life. After a week of unemployment, I have come to understand that I am way more productive member of society when I have nothing to do during the day. This week has been exceptionally hectic, what with forcing myself to go to the gym because there is no excuse not to, doing my own laundry because there is no excuse not to, and showering on a constant basis, I am bloody exhausted.
The major upset has been the past twenty four hours when I learned that my computer is infected with the HIV virus. Look kids, if you ever get a call from M squared and he tells you to download Norton at the time of purchase as in 2007, just do it. Don't fuck around and wait until your computer no longer turns on and when it does projects rainbows on the screen, download when M squared tells you to. Because if you don't, you might end up like me: unemployed 600 dollars poorer. That's right, I just dropped 600 dollars to repair this piece of shit.
When I called M to tell her about this crisis, she did not seem remotely bothered. In fact, she was happy that something in my life was fixable as everything else seems so destitute and hopeless. When I told her this was clearly not the time to tell me how pathetic my life is, she told me that she did not find me pathetic because I do not have a job as after all she has never had one and is impressed that I have had one at all.
The major upset has been the past twenty four hours when I learned that my computer is infected with the HIV virus. Look kids, if you ever get a call from M squared and he tells you to download Norton at the time of purchase as in 2007, just do it. Don't fuck around and wait until your computer no longer turns on and when it does projects rainbows on the screen, download when M squared tells you to. Because if you don't, you might end up like me: unemployed 600 dollars poorer. That's right, I just dropped 600 dollars to repair this piece of shit.
When I called M to tell her about this crisis, she did not seem remotely bothered. In fact, she was happy that something in my life was fixable as everything else seems so destitute and hopeless. When I told her this was clearly not the time to tell me how pathetic my life is, she told me that she did not find me pathetic because I do not have a job as after all she has never had one and is impressed that I have had one at all.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
707.47
Well I should be ashamed of myself. No really, I should. I have sacrificed my job (my blog) for my job(which no longer exists). After three months of complete agony and being yelled at constantly for making administrative computation errors I "have been laid off." My apologies to my readeriship, but I am back. Less than successful as ever as now I am not even a temp.
I know my readership was counting on me. After a year of looking for a job and finally finding one, it seems rather absurd that their champion should lose the opprotunity. Well, let me be frank. I never claimed to be good at what I intended to do, lawyer. The only reason I am here in the first place is because M&M forced me to go to law school to meet a husband. Now, I am not creative enough to rediscover a new career. Truth be told, this was 100% not my fault. I was disliked entirely. I am well aware of my charms and my virtues, however, I never claimed to be able to get along with a group of women. Look, I am not one of those girls who imagines that they inspire jealousy in other women and thus have only male friends. I am however one of those girls who has a dirty mouth, is quite crass and is able to mingle better with the less proper sex. While I seemingly will remain single for life, I most certainly will always have a group of male friends scattered with a few females who share my taste for being absolutely disgusting.
Regardless, after much debate, I realize that there was not much at stake here. I was a debt collector who made 707.47 per week. It is true, that this rare breed of shithole also represented a strip club across the street which I would have been happy to represent. However, something about me read debt collector. Perhaps it was the garbagely stench that I exuded. Regardless, I have come up with a plan inspired by dipshit. I am going to apply for a job at the strip club where the firm's holiday party takes place. Come Christmas time, I am going to straddle one of the partners and offer a lap dance. When they ask how much, I will reply "707.47."
I know my readership was counting on me. After a year of looking for a job and finally finding one, it seems rather absurd that their champion should lose the opprotunity. Well, let me be frank. I never claimed to be good at what I intended to do, lawyer. The only reason I am here in the first place is because M&M forced me to go to law school to meet a husband. Now, I am not creative enough to rediscover a new career. Truth be told, this was 100% not my fault. I was disliked entirely. I am well aware of my charms and my virtues, however, I never claimed to be able to get along with a group of women. Look, I am not one of those girls who imagines that they inspire jealousy in other women and thus have only male friends. I am however one of those girls who has a dirty mouth, is quite crass and is able to mingle better with the less proper sex. While I seemingly will remain single for life, I most certainly will always have a group of male friends scattered with a few females who share my taste for being absolutely disgusting.
Regardless, after much debate, I realize that there was not much at stake here. I was a debt collector who made 707.47 per week. It is true, that this rare breed of shithole also represented a strip club across the street which I would have been happy to represent. However, something about me read debt collector. Perhaps it was the garbagely stench that I exuded. Regardless, I have come up with a plan inspired by dipshit. I am going to apply for a job at the strip club where the firm's holiday party takes place. Come Christmas time, I am going to straddle one of the partners and offer a lap dance. When they ask how much, I will reply "707.47."
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I am Okay With Nine Digits
Last week, M&M told me that if I am not married within two years, they are done with me. At first, I thought to myself, good riddance. I am so sick and tired of the weekend phone calls wherein I am told I am pathetic and disgusting because I am single. However, after much consideration, I did decide there was a problem with having no M&M contact. Mainly, who the F is going to support me when I am still making 1.00 a day like a lawyer in Somalia with a distended stomach?
Anyhow, so I came up with a plan. I am going to marry my friend M, Jr. Ladies, he is not exactly a keeper. Sure, we make great companions, but for the love of Christ he is sluttier than I am, is entirely incapable of remaining faithful and quite frankly, I am not going to ask him to remain faithful. I condone him cheating on me because I hope to God that he will still set me up with all of his friends and really I can't be left with just him. A bloody nightmare, I tell you. M, Jr. is entirely okay with this plan provided M&M buy us an apartment, a wedding ring and he is free to sit around and live his life as he has grown accustomed to, as a lazy sack of shit. Of course when I called M&M with the good news and the parameters of this deal, they had no problems in essentially buying M, Jr. as their daughter's husband.
Okay, so just when I started adjusting to the fact that this i my fate, I started feeling this tingling sensation in my left ring finger. This sensation has progressed to a sorta numbness and I started thinking about that commercial on MTV "I lost all my fingers because I smoked too many cigarettes." However, then I started really thinking about it and decided my fiance smokes way more cigarettes, even smokes when he is unconscious, and has all of his fingers. Ultimately, I believe these are the higher powers telling me that this finger is absolutely useless. I can no longer feel it because I do not need it.
Anyhow, so I came up with a plan. I am going to marry my friend M, Jr. Ladies, he is not exactly a keeper. Sure, we make great companions, but for the love of Christ he is sluttier than I am, is entirely incapable of remaining faithful and quite frankly, I am not going to ask him to remain faithful. I condone him cheating on me because I hope to God that he will still set me up with all of his friends and really I can't be left with just him. A bloody nightmare, I tell you. M, Jr. is entirely okay with this plan provided M&M buy us an apartment, a wedding ring and he is free to sit around and live his life as he has grown accustomed to, as a lazy sack of shit. Of course when I called M&M with the good news and the parameters of this deal, they had no problems in essentially buying M, Jr. as their daughter's husband.
Okay, so just when I started adjusting to the fact that this i my fate, I started feeling this tingling sensation in my left ring finger. This sensation has progressed to a sorta numbness and I started thinking about that commercial on MTV "I lost all my fingers because I smoked too many cigarettes." However, then I started really thinking about it and decided my fiance smokes way more cigarettes, even smokes when he is unconscious, and has all of his fingers. Ultimately, I believe these are the higher powers telling me that this finger is absolutely useless. I can no longer feel it because I do not need it.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I Thought You Would Be Happy For Me
It has recently come to my attention that I suffer from extreme A.D.D. I know people throw this diagnosis around casually, but they really have no idea what they are talking about. Folks, you do not know you have A.D.D. until you have a formal confirmation like I do. Lately, I have been given these assignments at my "firm" where I am asked to do "calculations." As a side note, I am sort of a debt collector. At first this seemed rather glamorous working on "big bank" accounts, but now I realize that collecting debt from financial advisors is in not any different than being the repo man. In fact, it is worse.
Regardless, after making a series of demands to these poor individuals to cough up some change, the junior partner came into my office and asked me to recite the order of the months. When I excelled at this task, he asked then why did I think in a letter I was about to circulate June came after August? Then he asked me to repeat what he had just asked me to make sure I was paying attention. Well, I had no logical explanation until he said the following: "You have severe A.D.D. and I need you to focus. This task is not hard, filling in numbers amongst a form letter. You should be embarrassed." Well, yes I was kind of embarrassed. Not embarrassed as I should be, as now I am disclosing this information to the Internet, but at the time, I most certainly was and had to quickly call d/shit to meet me for drinks at four o’clock in the afternoon.
When I spoke about this with my therapist she did not bat an eyelash. I was most certainly expecting her to disagree with him, but she merely said "Well, are you surprised?" When I explained that I have suspected this much, but failed to disclose that I have been taking "study enhancing drugs" without a formal prescription just to hail a cab, she asked me "Have you ever considered time released Aderoll or Ritalin?"
JUST BRILLIANT. Of course I have been considering the merits of these drugs for the longest time, but have had to go about the strangest methods of obtaining them, i.e. calling Dr. Y (M&M's psychiatrist and drug dealer) to give me some goodies right around exam time. To think that next week I am about to walk into a psychiatrist's office and check off a list and obtain said meds on a regular basis which will last up to eight hours to help me be a better debt collector is just what the doctor ordered, literally.
Of course I had to tell my gay husband the good news and he could not have been more ecstatic and thanked me for taking one for the team. When I told E the jolly news, she asked "if I was okay?" Got to love E, she is so good to me. For the record, E, I am fine and better than I have ever been in my entire life.
Regardless, after making a series of demands to these poor individuals to cough up some change, the junior partner came into my office and asked me to recite the order of the months. When I excelled at this task, he asked then why did I think in a letter I was about to circulate June came after August? Then he asked me to repeat what he had just asked me to make sure I was paying attention. Well, I had no logical explanation until he said the following: "You have severe A.D.D. and I need you to focus. This task is not hard, filling in numbers amongst a form letter. You should be embarrassed." Well, yes I was kind of embarrassed. Not embarrassed as I should be, as now I am disclosing this information to the Internet, but at the time, I most certainly was and had to quickly call d/shit to meet me for drinks at four o’clock in the afternoon.
When I spoke about this with my therapist she did not bat an eyelash. I was most certainly expecting her to disagree with him, but she merely said "Well, are you surprised?" When I explained that I have suspected this much, but failed to disclose that I have been taking "study enhancing drugs" without a formal prescription just to hail a cab, she asked me "Have you ever considered time released Aderoll or Ritalin?"
JUST BRILLIANT. Of course I have been considering the merits of these drugs for the longest time, but have had to go about the strangest methods of obtaining them, i.e. calling Dr. Y (M&M's psychiatrist and drug dealer) to give me some goodies right around exam time. To think that next week I am about to walk into a psychiatrist's office and check off a list and obtain said meds on a regular basis which will last up to eight hours to help me be a better debt collector is just what the doctor ordered, literally.
Of course I had to tell my gay husband the good news and he could not have been more ecstatic and thanked me for taking one for the team. When I told E the jolly news, she asked "if I was okay?" Got to love E, she is so good to me. For the record, E, I am fine and better than I have ever been in my entire life.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
WELL IF SKADDEN IS EMBARASSED
It has recently come to my attention that a series of douche bags at Skadden have started ranking their fellow associates' hotness. While I do not exactly condone the behavior, I am a bit of the school of thought that this girl who was nominated the hottest associate IS NOT SO EMBARRASSED. Look, ladies let's all be honest with each other. I was not embarrassed, nor were any of my friends even if they claimed to feel degraded, to be highlighted in my freshman year's facebook. While I certainly did not deserve the attention and was later told by my lame ass boyfriend that he did it himself because "I looked angry hot," I certainly welcomed this nomination. Quite frankly, if I were not highlighted in the freshman class M&M would have pulled me off campus within the first month.
With that in mind, I am a bit disgusted by the balls on this blondie. Not only does this whore work at Skadden and make more money than I ever will see in my life, but apparently she is also hot. I sure hope she is just really photogenic and this is not some way of God telling me that good things come in 181 LSAT packages. Am I supposed to think: "Oh, poor girl. She makes 4524535235352352 a year for doing document review, is smart and is also considered really hot by her fellow very eligible bachelors?" No, I do not think so.
For the record, none of my fellow garbigities are circulating such a nomination in my favor. Furthermore, what in God's name does Skadden have to be embarrassed about? A bloody blog? Really, I am sitting at my current dumpster as we speak drafting a blog about what it is like to be only a quarter of an attorney with a salary that is comparable to an exterminator's. If Skadden's hiring partner finds the firm's culture an embarrassment, he should spend a day in my flip flops. Yes, that is right, I can wear flip flops to work.
With that in mind, I am a bit disgusted by the balls on this blondie. Not only does this whore work at Skadden and make more money than I ever will see in my life, but apparently she is also hot. I sure hope she is just really photogenic and this is not some way of God telling me that good things come in 181 LSAT packages. Am I supposed to think: "Oh, poor girl. She makes 4524535235352352 a year for doing document review, is smart and is also considered really hot by her fellow very eligible bachelors?" No, I do not think so.
For the record, none of my fellow garbigities are circulating such a nomination in my favor. Furthermore, what in God's name does Skadden have to be embarrassed about? A bloody blog? Really, I am sitting at my current dumpster as we speak drafting a blog about what it is like to be only a quarter of an attorney with a salary that is comparable to an exterminator's. If Skadden's hiring partner finds the firm's culture an embarrassment, he should spend a day in my flip flops. Yes, that is right, I can wear flip flops to work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
