Knock Knock.....

HOUSEKEEPING!

So, call me celery I'm a stalker.

That's right, I'm once again terrorizing office employees and this time it's the housekeeping team.

I drink a lot of water. And when I'm not drinking water, I'm drinking coffee or diet dr. pepper, which explains my potty dance behavior and routine trips to the bathroom. 

Well, due to my constant use of toilet paper, housekeeping is constantly in the restroom replacing toilet paper. And I always walk in right when they are making their move.

Because I am the only person that exists on earth, I usually don't watch where I'm going. Sometimes I walk halfway into the stall before I realize someone is in there. Then I will loudly shout, "Oops! or oh, hello!" into the sound reverberating stall, scaring the poor housekeeping ladies senseless. Then I usually laugh like I made some ruhtard joke as they silently nod and smile.

Then, because I feel awkward, I usually do a nod and smile too.

I think they speak English, and actually I think they like me, but I don't really know because I never get more than this meager, "Hello" (smile, head down).

Are they scared of me?

Embarrassed for me because they think I have that overactive bladder syndrome and am probably wearing depends under my skinny jeans?

Angry at me for washing my hands while they are trying to refill the tampon machine?

The truth is, I want, no I need the housekeeping team to like me. I don't care about anyone else, but those ladies are nice. When nice people like you, it's kind of like you are nice, too. 

That's right, I'm now riding the coattails of housekeeping. 

 

So anyway.

 I was on the 9th floor of our building today for a team meeting and went to the bathroom. And who did I find but Housekeeper #1 (HK1). She nodded and smiled, and I got warm fuzzies and I went about my way. 

An hour later, I came back to my desk at the 10th floor and decided I should probably use the restroom before I spent the rest of the day on the phone with my boss.

Oh, hello HK1!

It's been so long, te extrano!

Something about peeing in front of another person just really bonds you.

Like waiting in line for the port-o-potty for a tailgate or friends you meet in the bathroom.

I'm so awkward, making piss friends and all. 

Then I just turned into a creep.

I went to the 11th floor to get a cup of ice.

On my way, I just stopped to grab some TP from le toilet to blow my nose. 

HK1 was in there!

I swear, I just needed to relieve some sinus pressure.

I didn't even have time to investigate my nose blow by unfolding the TP because I just wanted to get out of there.

She'll probably tell HK2 that empties the trash each night that I am just sticking around after hours to watch her clean the place.

Even worse that I always have headphones in and can't hear her coming so she has to touch my shoulder to get my attention or my knee as she whips my little trash bucket from beneath my desk.

It's like going to the nail salon but in the comfort of my own office.

And I used to know spanish but don't anymore, so I will just be struggling to pair together strings of words I recognize with those I don't.

ho hum.

I wonder if we can still be friends.

I mean, I really want her to like me....

Man. I tell you what, it really irks me when people don't understand sarcasm for comedic effect.

Like any red-blooded American 20something, I was spending the time in between writing my own blog and going to lunch, to peruse 2birds1blog, and like any good reader, I like to comment and tell my own funny little quims.

Uh, yes, that was a passive agressive attempt to get you people commenting instead of gchatting me up in this mug and distracting me from feeble attempts to do my work. I already have restrictions on the amount of time I work due to this little diddy I bang out each morning.

 

So Chris is blogging about his terrible bus experience in which he is starfished and yoga-violated and generally made uncomfortable. And I am reminded of a recent experience on my tour de California. It followed as such....

 

Courtney said...

I missed my flight from LA to San francisco earlier this year because the bitch flight attendant did last call boarding 17 minutes before scheduled take off. After arriving to SF 3 hours later than planned I had to ride the train in because my friends were at the bar drinking (i would have done the same-plus i offered). Then an old couple made me give them my seat on the train. She didn't say it out loud, but granny totally eye-called me a bitch. She then burned her laser retinas into my skull until the pain inevitably caused me to just give them the damn felt-covered perch. I can't wait until I'm old and get whatever I want.

December 7, 2009 2:12 PM

Marie said... 

 

Do people not have any decency anymore? I'm talking about some of the people complaining here.

 

1) Are you really so inconsiderate that you can't help a girl put her bag in the overhead? I'm sorry, to prevent "overpacking" 1 bag I'll bring 5 bags next time, a-hole. Really, it's not our damn fault we don't grow enormous muscles. My boyfriend helps women/girls put their bags in the overhead all the time and I always complement him on being a gentleman.

 

2) It is social law that you should give your seat up to an elderly, pregnant, or disabled person. Because Americans are so damn inconsiderate, some places have had to make it ACTUAL law (thats really sad). So I'm sorry if your lazy ass can't sit down for short bus/metro ride, but for the elderly/pregnant/disabled person, that short ride can be like hell. So again, be a gentleman/lady, get your ass up, and let them sit! Now, that doesn't give the lady the right to shoot daggers at you, but still.

 

Anyway, end of rant - the bottom line is that Americans are extremely inconsiderate (the people you have complained about and even some of the complainers!) and its awful. Being in Europe has really given me perspective that decency DOES exist, and on mass levels! People help other people and are considerate! It's a scary world... 

December 7, 2009 7:43 PM

 

Well, Marie, let's address your little quips here.

 

A. Do I have any decency? Clearly you don't know me or read my blog, because I will be the first to admit I am not the proud owner of decency. In case you missed yesterday's post, I'm a puking, unshowered mess of a human being. And I like my filth, so step off.

 

B.  I bet you do have enormous muscles. AND I bet you used them to bull-dyke whip your boyfriend into a purple pansy.  Regarding your "5 bag" threat, You only get two carry ons and most airlines are charging $20 for the first checked bag and $30 for consecutive bags. Joke's on you, sucka. A-HOLE!

C. Who are you, the social police? Are you going to handcuff me and cart me off? No, I would suppose not, mainly because "social law" is an oxymoron in itself. And besides, it wasn't a short ride for me. It was 45 minutes. They got on at the end. If the beeyotch could have waited 2 minutes for me and my 56 pound suitcase (which I lug myself, so tell your boyfriend he can rest easy) to get off the train, she wouldn't have had to shove her husband into the tiny space near the pole while she stretched her limbs like a fat cat after a fancy feast binge.

Before you have a hernia, please note that I once again am being sarcastic. Actually, sarcasm probably isn't the right word. I think "snarky hyperbole" would be more appropriate.

 

D. Oh womp womp womp. You know what Maria Maria? Go back to your Spanish Harlem. If Europe is so great, you just mosey on back across the pond.

Europe is beautiful, don't get me wrong, I would love to go on a little backpacking trip, but once the fun is over, I want my cheeseburger, gun-loving ass planted here in America. More specifically, Texas.

So you and your hairy European pits can take a hike.

When you get there, say hi to Roman Polanski for me.

Oh, and apparently the Greek are cannibals. 

But hey, whatever floats your boat, Marie.

Now I'm off to (gasp!) buy a toaster for our adopted family at work.

Of course, if there aren't any motorized scooters available, I will just sneak up on an unsuspecting victim.

I'm weak, but I'll have the element of surprise on my side.

Why should I work my poor little legs to death if I can get free healthcare my own scooter?

And just to clarify, I have a grandma so I can't be age-ist! Sometimes I bring her out with my token black, hispanic, and asian friends just to prove how cultured and diverse I am.

I'm still on the hunt for a good gay to add to the group.

The more the merrier.

Like eggnog.

But really, I can't wait to get old. So I can get whatever I want.

WITHOUT OFFENDING ANYONE OR HAVING TO TRY MORE THAN ONCE.

**Please note no elderly, disabled, or soon-to-be mamas were hurt in the making of this blog.

The baby on the bus goes waa waa waa

<Sigh>

It's Monday. Again.

I think my desk is quite possibly the last place on the entire earth that I want to be right now.

In fact, I almost called in sick this morning.

Which is saying a lot because I haven't used even 1 of my 10 sick days this year.

Do I feel like shit? check.

Could I have used a couple more hours of sleep? def.

Would anyone die if I missed one day? noop.

But then I felt guilty. This shitty feeling is a self-inflicted residual hangover, and I don't speak of my hangovers lightly. I don't whine and complain and pretend that the world is ending unless I really think it is. And yesterday, it was.

I should have seen the two red flags. After the horns barely squeaked out a win over Nebraska, we had to celebrate. Celebrate big. Thus started the shot-a-thon formerly known as Saturday night. Don't get me wrong, I love a shit-crazy party, but I had already resorted to chugging Boones Farm by 5pm. I really had no business doing multiple rounds of tequila and jager shots, not to mention my nemesis, Rumple, who ended my night with a bang. And by bang, I mean an utter black abyss in which all memories after 1:15am now reside.

Wait, you were drinking Boones Farm? Fuzzy Navel I do believe. I then did pulls of vodka straight out of the jug with one of our guy friends' mom. That's probably why I thought it was a good idea to try to sneak beer into Jerry World. Unfortunately, the beer started to slip as I was walking in and I was forced to do a grotesque imitation of a pelvic thrust in order to keep my Keystone Light from tumbling onto the sidewalk. At that point, I was asked to remove my coat and it was confiscated. Damn.

But boy oh boy is Jerry World fun. We bought those nifty little party passes (mainly so I could afford toilet paper this week instead of stealing it from the office bathroom) and party we did. By the 4th quarter we were enjoying tequila in the concourse level bar. Of course, then my life flashed before my eyes as the Cornhuskers rushed the field and started celebrating. I was standing in front of a tv, dumbfounded for about 5 seconds, and then the longest string of profanities I have ever let escape from my lips flooded into that bar. I'm a small person, but at this point, I would have feared for my life had I been a Nebraska fan within 15 feet of me. Luckily for those poor saps, we got our 1 second back, kicked a field goal, and declared ourselves Pasadena bound. Hunter Lawrence, I hope you got some serious action Saturday night.

If not, give me a ring. I'll show you how real women treat their men--with vanilla frosting and sprinkles (holla at muh gurl whitney, nice find)! 

I was sunshine and roses after that. Typical.

On to the bar!

It should have been a red flag when I was so thirsty at the bar that I could feel my throat closing up. But who needs water when you have ice cold beer? Not me, that's for sure!

Red Flag no. 2: Waking up feeling somewhat okay....and then thinking you will remain in that blissful state. Little did my still-drunk body know, it was about to bombarded with the hangover from hell.

Imagine eating bad Chinese food. Now, imagine that on the way home, you got hit by a gigantic truck. Enhance exponentially. I wanted death to come knocking on my door.

He did around 5:30. I have a fear of vomit that actually exceeds my hate for over-use of condiments. Unfortunately for me, crouching on the couch with my knees pulled to my chest was  no longer preventing the bile from rising up in the back of my throat like lava flowing straight out of Hell's volcano.

Analogies are fun!

I'm 24. My relationship with my toilet is way too close for comfort. And until this morning, I hadn't showered for 48 hours. 

That, Aunt Ida, is why I don't have a boyfriend to bring to Christmas dinner.

But besides almost dying, I didn't mind my Sunday night.

I actually spent most of it YouTubing videos of Tear-bow crying his poor little eyes out.

Tearbow for Criesman!

Particularly enjoy this version featuring Johnny Cash's "Cry, cry, cry."

And then of course I tuned in to watch the Bullshit Computer System determine who would be playing in this year's bowl games. 

Of course the Fiesta Bowl upset was all anyone could talk about on various social media throughout the rest of the night. And I was right there with everyone else. I like TCU. My dad is an alum, their mascot is the horned frog, and they wear purple. What's not to like? And I love me a good underdog.

Or underfrog in this case. rrriibbitt.

UNTIL....

I log into my precious facebook account and see all these TCU peeps knockin Texas and saying my boys don't derserve the ship.

Excuse me?

Well hey diddle diddle, the frog done think it got kissed and turned into a prince.

Looky here TCU, and read my lips very carefully.

SUCK IT.

You can just get on your high horse and ride all the way to Arizona for your measly Tortilla Chip bowl.

I'll help you out with this since your team hasn't gone undefeated in 71 years and your BCS experience may be a little rusty.

We are no. 2 and you are no. 3. Although we almost lost, we didn't, so we get to stay at no. 2.

Regardless of how you think you should be ranked, this is the way it is, so sac up and move on.

And lest we not forget, SEC actually stands for Sucking Everyone's Cock, which is the only explanation for the man-tastic SEC love fest that manifested itself in the system at the beginning of time and just won't go away. SEC = herpes.

So, in short, you can take your bitter stick and pummel Cincinatti with it. Because we all knew Florida would get the Sugar bowl, and you were robbed by a bearcat.

So even though I want to take those two crippled fingers and break them in 2 places......

I still hope you win, because you are better than Boise State.

Good luck TCU. 

Hook em horns.

Tebow is a big fat crybaby.

Someone call the waambulance.

Lawdy, Lawdy, It's Christmas Shawty!

Christmas just brings along so many treats. I mean, really. It's like Santa just dropped a whole gift bag full of blog topics on my door step.....

First, let's confront the mass holiday text. I know some people are opposed, but I quite enjoy them. My favorites so far have come from 2 of my very own sorority sisters, who were well worth the money I paid for them.

1. "I tried to mail you something cute for Christmas, but when the mailman saw me, he told me to get the stamp off my ass and get the hell out of the mailbox."

I didn't know tramp stamps worked with the USPS.

And my favorite:

2. If a real fat man snatches you up and throws you in a bag, don't be afraid. It's just Santa collecting all his hoes for Christmas. I'm texting you from his bag now..."

Do we get extra presents?

But this one really takes the cake: 
3. It was the night before christmas an all through the house,

Everyone felt shitty, even the mouse.

Dad at the whore house

Mom smokin grass

And I settled down for a nice piece of ass.

Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang up from my piece to see what was the matter.

He came down the chimney like a bat out of hell.

I knew right away that fat fucker fell.

He filled all the stockings with pretzels and beer,

And a big rubber dick for my brother the queer!

He rose up the chimney with one hell of a fart.

Tthat son of a bitch blew my chimney apart!

He swore and cursed as he flew out of sight.

Piss on you all and have one hell of a night!

MONEY IS SHORT AND TIMES ARE HARD

YOU JUST GOT TEXTED YOUR FUCKING CHRISTMAS CARD!

I have to hand it to my co-workers this week. The above text was from my Asian friend Melissa. You might be thinking, "we know she is Asian, you can stop saying that."  

But I really can't. I just love that she's Asian so much. I even answer the phone with a fond, "herrro" whenever I have the pleasure of receiving a ringy dingy from her.

You can all thank @jsilveus for inspiring the following blurb......get your popcorn. It's a good show.

Twas 3 weeks before Christmas and the time had come

To prepare our livers for the eggnog and rum

Bust out that tacky sweater and giant red bow

Get drunk and makeout under the mistletoe

(socially acceptable)

But I doubt your outfit will even compare

To this hot mama and her Christmas tree hair...

But wait there's more. That wasn't enough.

Turn around pretty lady and strut yo stuff.

You thought your clever Santa hat was good for your head

But think again, cracka, she sportin gingerbread.

So do your hair up right and prepare to get down

Cause Santa Claus is comin to town.

With all of this holiday spirit i decided to go take a look at The North Pole.
After perusing the site, I decided that I wanted to chat with Bonnie and Bif, Santa's elves. Clearly, I chose Bif. Because his name is Bif, and it sounds like boof. This should be fun right? This is how it went down.....
C: Hello! What am I getting for Christmas? I have been a very good girl this year (lie).
B: I can't tell secrets
C: Why is your name Bif?
B: I'm Bif! The mailroom elf.
C: Why?
B: Only you know why. Although that seems strange.
C: What?
B: Have you been a good girl this year?
C: I already told you that.
B: Does it please you that you already told I that?
C: you have poor grammar.
B: I am soooo happy right now.
C: Suck it.
B: Suck it, I agree. But why?
C: Your mom.
B: My mom and dad live at the north pole too!
C: Does your Dad pleasure your Mom with candy canes?
B: I seem to remember, what are your feelings on that?
C: Minty fresh.
B: I had candy for breakfast, what did you have?
C: Do you like little boys?
B: I would rather talk about you.
C: Oh, so you like little girls?
B: Do you think Spice Girls are on the way out?

Well Bif, it depends on which Spice you are referring to. I would say Baby Spice and Sporty Spice are not "on their way out" but rather have been for about 10 years. Victoria Beckham is obviously very in, since her husband has become the face of Spanish condoms. Mel B has passed on the name "Scary Spice" to her baby, fathered by P Diddy, who has some very unfortunate looking children, so decide for yourself on that one. 

Diddy--maybe you should have a spin off: Making the Baby.

Your babies have been eliminated.

Ginger Spice got knocked up out of wedlock and had a daughter, Bluebell Madonna, but will not disclose the father, stating: "It is tacky to kiss and tell, but I would never deprive a child of the right to know its father."  You know what else is tacky? Naming your child after ice cream. At least be more specific. I would go with Cake batter, cookies, cookies, cookies, or the ever popular peaches and homeade vanilla. Ginger Spice has recently abandoned all other tasks to become the UK advocate for Hug a Ginger Day.


Personally, I'm okay with the fact that I spent my morning talking to an automated elf. He promised he would deliver my letter to Santa. Little did he know I already gave Santa a letter when he scooped me up with the rest of his hoes.


I'm asking for a National Championship. And a sugar daddy to provide me with a ticket. Santa said to screw the sugar daddy. He's outbidding Pasadena and moving the BCS to the North Pole. Conveniently, it will be renamed the "Jelly Bowl."

Hook em horns! 

Do the Hustle!

So there I was.

Walking down the office corridor to the restroom.

When suddenly, a co-worker rounds the corner and is unexpectedly 1 foot in front of me with inertia powering him forward.

Do I go right?

Left?

Duck under his legs?

Inevitably, we start a round of "the office shuffle."

This is probably the 4th or 5th time I have done this in the past 3 days. And that doesn't even include the awkward situations where you are opening a door to go in when someone else is going out and you have the equally awkward "excuse me." Now, this can be said in a few different ways. If I'm really caught off guard it's like an exclamated question: "oh! excuse me?!"

Is this my fault or yours? Do I need to say excuse me? Why am I blushing?

Then there is the singy voice "Excuuuuuse me."

Usually I find that the other person repeats this in the same voice, "No. Excuuuse Meeeeee." I like that one.

Then there are the downward head walkers. Marching on a mission very quickly to some unknown destination. They usually round the corner and almost ram you in the chest. In this case, I find myself almost yelling "Excuse me!" In a stern voice but ina  tone that says 'this is my fault.'

Even though your head almost rammed my boob. I mean, that's precious cargo. But whatever, I guess you have important places to be.

Excuse me's are fine and dandy, but when you have a little more time to dawdle, the office shuffle is where it's at. Sometimes I think I make people really uncomfortable. I am one of those annoying people who chats up the person behind me in the grocery line, butts into random conversations to answer questions about directions, where to eat, movie synopses etc., and makes corny jokes to strangers. So of course, when I have the opportunity to do the office shuffle, I want to take full advantage.

Sometimes you can see it coming. This is the really fun one because you can plot your footwork but still make it look like an accident. Sometimes, once I have my prey trapped in an uncomfortable left, right left, I like to throw in a couple of "up, up, oh, haha, man sorry bout that"s then I walk away snickering.

It's even better when the other person has no choice but to create a buffer in between the two of you to avoid chest bumping, so they reach out and touch your arm or shoulder to guide you a particular direction as they go the other. You can feel the nervous tension, like they are thinking, "Shit. Is it awkward that I'm touching her arm? Is this sexual harassment? Wait, that is an arm and not her breast, right? I'm so uncomfortable. Is it over yet? Oh thank God, she's walking and I made it to the coffee make. Whew. Close call."

Then the person turns around from the coffee maker and BAM! I'm on my way back from the printer. Should I go for round two or let the poor sap go? Obviously the latter. Hook, line, and sinker. Joe Employee returns to his desk, red-faced, wondering if I feel as violated as him.

No, Joe, I don't. Because I enjoy the most awkward occasions with the shamelessness of a small child. So I'm going to go celebrate my shuffle victory at my desk with a pack of dunkaroos. The kind with the vanilla frosting and sprinkles, of course. Everything is better with frosting and multi-colored sprinkles: strawberry pop-tarts, funfetti cupcakes, circus animal cookies. Am I right or am I right?

Maybe if I covered myself in vanilla frosting and sprinkles, people would have more incentive to play the office two step with me.

This is so lame. I'm fully aware. But it's just a lot of fun.

The fun folk do occasionally play along. At this point, I really wish that some sort of music would come on and we could have our very own version of Glee in the office. There are really a lot of options.

We could do country: I'm thinking maybe "Cotton Eye Joe" with some left, right action then doing the dosey-doe a few times before breaking off and walking our separate ways.

Or maybe some "Ice Cream Paint Job" and bust a little C walk out in front of the coffee maker.

Of course my first choice would be Whitney's "I wanna Dance with Somebody" and would be a full blown musical with co-workers popping over their cubicles and creating a mass pop-tacular dance party in which my office shuffle partner and I are lifted up on a platform while a halo of light shines down on us.

I know this is asking too much. My office doesn't even have a floor-wide broadcast option for the music, and I doubt anyone is as enthusiastic as I am about awkwardly bumping into other people, but this sounds like fun right? 

no?

Guess that's why it's fun for me and not the other person.

I shouldn't admit that I do these things. In the event that co-workers get word of this post, they will probably begin to carry scissors or hot coffee with them at all times.

The tango really isn't as fun if I could get stabbed or badly burned.

Not saying I wouldn't still do it, but I'm not particularly fond of physical pain.

It's why I don't do sit ups.

I'm going to find my friend, Melissa.

She's Asian.

I bet she is really good at the shuffle.

Most Asians are.

And she's a good sport.

She'll play with me.

What's this white stuff?

I slept straight through my alarm this morning. I awoke to the sound of beating rain on my window, in my dark little cocoon. I was in "the egg" this morning, wrapped up like a pig in a blanket, fully embodying the epitome of a blanket thief. It was glorious.

I realized it was 7:55, a good 25 minutes after my alarm was supposed to go off, but hey it's raining. And apparently 8:30 at my office means 9:00 anyway. So of course I do my usual morning routine of checking my twitter, facebook, and gmail accounts in bed before even brushing my teeth or taking out my retainer.

Yes, I do wear my retainer 3 times a week. It's from 8th grade and I'm pretty sure it probably has hundreds of disease causing bacteria crawling all over it, but I like my pearly whites and gotta keep em lookin fly. At least I never dropped my retainer in the middle school garbage can and actually dug it out so "my mom wouldn't be mad."

So of course, I log into twitter and immediately see 25 posts in the following variations:

OMG! IT'S SNOOOOWING!!!!

SNOW IN DALLAS...YAHOO!!

IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS!!

BRRR...PUTTING ON MY UGGS TODAY!!! :o)

BOO! TRAFFIC IS SOOOO BAD TODAY! BUT AT LEAST IT'S SNOWING!!

All linked to photos that looked more like rain than snow, but it was indeed snowing! or at least falling into the "wintry mix" category. I wonder if school was cancelled this morning? apparently we don't cancel work for snow. That's okay though, we have a work happy hour tonight so I have something to look forward to.

Even though my team member forgot to include me on the email and I found out this morning. Um, hello? I can understand if you leave me off of a meeting email or one of the stupid chains that goes around, but if there is booze involved, I better be the first f-ing name on the list, buster. Jesus, what does it take to get blitzed in the blizzard around here?  

Although I really want to just go home and make peppermint hot chocolate toddies.

Some people find it inappropriate to take shots of rumplemintz, but it's okay if I put it in my cocoa. Whatever, I'll take what I can get. But maybe I shouldn't drink rumplemintz alone...seems a bit aggressive (re: alcoholic and perhaps dangerous when decorating the tree with breakable ornaments).....

The snow has now stopped, but I'm hoping it will come back. My co-worker Katie just announced she had never seen snow before this morning. Don't worry, she's from Florida. Well, Katie, in case you hadn't noticed, snow is a really big freaking deal here in Texas.

Traffic stops, school is canceled, everyone feels the need to facebook, twitter, and blog about it (I'm SO unoriginal), and we generally make a big fuss about how WINTER HAS FINALLY COME!

However, please do not confuse this with any effort to change our wardrobe style. Due to the fact that I quite enjoy polluting the air with my nasty SUV, I blatantly ignore the public transportation options surrounding my apartment and choose to drive parking garage to parking garage. I don't even have to wear a coat! a simple sweater will suffice! On my way, I saw a few people waiting for the bus, rubbing their arms in an effort to keep warm. No jacket. We don't wear jackets here in Texas! And we don't buy appropriate shoes either! Who cares if it's snowing/sleeting/34 degrees. This arctic weather will pass soon enough. I'm keeping my flip flops on, by God! I swear, people would rather just throw on a pair of socks with their flip flops and hobble around instead of investing in a pair of closed-toed shoes.

I used to think it was cool to wear toe socks with flip flops. I shudder at the memory.

No seriously, bile is rising up in my throat as we speak. I loathe these socks. 

In fact, I would rather have my toes turn black from frostbite and be amputated than ever wear toe socks again. 

To get my mind off toe socks, I think we should build a snowman.....

Hmm well, that wasn't very promising.

Not like you care.

You're too busy wondering, "hey, where did that yellow snow come from? And where did it go?"

I shoveled it away.

So don't worry about it.

And don't be sad for Frosty, either.

Underneath that faux-snow exterior was a real, live snow-boy.

And the magic of Campbell's Soup warmed him to life.

Like Pinocchio, except this little boy didn't get caught in a whale, and he didn't belong to Geppetto, and his little carrot nose didn't grow when he lied and pretended to be a snowman.

In fact, this is not like Pinocchio at all!

<sigh>

Welp, I'm off to take my Christmas Picture for our team.

I got my red jingle earrings in.

CHRISTMAS IS HERE!!!

  

Can you get AIDS from a kegstand?

Happy World AIDS Day!

Inappropriate?

Of course.

To be honest, this day not only puzzles me but makes me a little uncomfortable. Why are we celebrating AIDS? I know it's a day to celebrate "how far we've come" but the solution to the problem just requires taking a massive amount of drugs, cleverly disguised as "cocktails." No, thanks. I'll keep my dirty martinis and red wine. The HIV can take a hike.

But I'm trying to be a good person, so I did my part.

In an effort not to spend $5 on coffee, I did a little drawing on the Starbucks website for their "LOVE" Campaign.

I'm so talented.

At least they are giving $.05 per drawing for free, as opposed to the $.05 per hand-made beverage they are donating. Really, Starbucks? You charge $4 for a venti black coffee and all you can give is $.05?

What a bunch of cheap-skAIDS. 

If I had a nickel for everytime Starbucks ripped someone off......

Oh wait, the world AIDS federation does.

So there's your PSA plug.

And now for some holiday fun via Daily Candy.

Okay, so these aren't really that special, but for some reason I just really love plastic bags!

It's like you never took the goldfish out of his little portable house from the pet shop.

tee-hee how clever

And I do believe those are skittles (original flavor judging by colors) and you know I love me some skittles.

Almost as much as grilled cheese.

Speaking of grilled cheese, is it time for dinner yet?

I don't know, let me check my badass neon watch!

these match my plastic neon sunglasses perfectly.

The only thing that would make them better is if they were those cool slap bracelets from the early 90s. Neon would have gone great with my perm.

Well I mean, it did, but a neon slap bracelet watch would have been better than regular old neon.

 Upgrade.

And now an insult to dogs!

Introducing the choco-dawg!

You can now re-enact that study abroad program to China with your very own edible puppies! Since it wouldn't be enough to just munch on an edible Fido, these are made out of chocolate!

Hey, doesn't chocolate have the ability to kill dogs? Sure does! And these bad boys are toast! By toast I mean creamy chocolatey goodness.

Somebody fetch me one of these stat. Woof.

Is little Johnny not in the mood to eat Rover?

That's okay! He can design his very own monster costume!

 

 Actually I hope these come in big kid sizes. 

I would love to be a monster.

I think I would pick something like big foot where people weren't sure if I was real or not. Or maybe I would just be a cool monster like Monsters Inc. Or there is the Shrek option, because I could get a donkey sidekick and have gingerbread man friends.

Please note I said ginger-BREAD.

I have plenty of ginger friends.

In other news, I am going to get drunk and wear out these nifty hand tattoos for weekends to come. I really like the shark, but I'm not sure what sound sharks make, so I'm thinking I could run around doing the Jaws song. 

"Naaaa na, Na na na na na na na na na naaaaaa"

Not to be confused with Batman--different na's.

I do realize these are probably made to entertain small children, but sometimes I consider myself one. I mean, c'mon, that would be really fun to "moo" all night. I bet I could convince people to buy me shots by saying "the giraffe needs one" and then "the dragon wants one too. he is very jealous."

Of course, people would probably just be trying to pawn me off and get away from me since this is beyond weird, but I'm okay with that. A win is a win.

And finally, we make it rain with the swear bank!

I could get a shit-load of cash with this little baby. hells, yeah.

Pop in a quarter for every curse word I use and I could have a keg in no time.

We can get a keg of that new BrewDogs' 32% alcohol Tactical Nuclear Penguin.

Can't wait to do keg stands with that.

I knew I liked those Scots. They are almost as fun as my Irish ancestors.

Better than those snotty British.

Actually I quite like the Brits. I find them lovely. 

But apparently, "Beer has a terrible reputation in Britain. It’s ignorant to assume that a beer can’t be enjoyed responsibly like a nice dram or a glass of fine wine."

What is a dram? What is a "glass" of wine?

I prefer jugs and bags.

 Someone hold my feet, I'm ready for my keg stand.