Flogging!!
4:45am Jeff and I arrive at the Calgary Airport, sleepy and excited. Let the line-ups begin!
5:15 After realizing I'd lied while answering multiple "Do you have any fruits or vegetables?" Very serious questionaires, I reluctantly throw away the fruit cup and package of spitz I had stored in my purse. I'm tired and will give you whatever you want as long as we can get through.
5:31 This lineup's long. Where are we? US Customs or something? I don't know. It's GD early. We see the end of the line and Jeff gives me a Jeffy "How do I get this guy's job?" as he side thumb points to Larry, ruler of the great line.
Larry's gig is to look for green lights to blink on and direct people to them. He wears a full uniform.
5:37 We've made it to the front, the green light blinks and Jeff heads to ol' friendly booth number 10. I'm next and Larry directs me to the booth of bitter dreams, number 13. I walk up, relieved to have gotten through and flash the young officer, Derk, a friendly smile.
"Passport and boarding pass" he demands.
I happily pull out my travel document case and Derk snarls his command again.
I'm flustered and have already passed Derk everything I have in the time he had to bark at me the second time.
He picks through the 4 pieces of paper I give him and scolds me like a mongrel dog who just shat on his shoe and is too dumb to know why that was so wrong.
"We have signs that say have your passport and boarding pass ready"
What do you want me to do, DerK? I thought they were. They were in my hand. I didn't read the signs.
"I'm sorry" I respond. Derk interogates me
WHY ARE YOU GOING
"I'm going on vacation!"
WHERE
"New York!"
WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?
"I'm going on vacation!"
WHAT, SPECIFICALLY, ARE YOU DOING THERE?
Derk is being a douchey jerk, so I start listing all of the fun plans I have. He snaps a few more questions and then it's over as quickly as it began. He dismisses me and the light blinks green for his next victim.
5:45
Metal detector! This goes incredibly smoothly. I even wore my rings through it accidently and it didn't beep.
5:55 Jeff and I find our gate and head to get breakie. We settle for Harvey's Breakfast Sandwiches. The grease has stained through a bag and wrapper by the time I sit down with it. My god, it is wonderful. I am so hungry. Nom nom nom.
6:15 Jeff is gone venturing and I'm semi sleeping in my chair. I'm daydreaming about bombs and planes and all the things you're not allowed to say at the airport and I overhear 2 middle-aged, well dressed gentlemen across from me. This is what I hear.
"Are you the sexy terrorist, or is somebody else the sexy terrorist?"
"I'm the sexy terrorist."
I kinda hope that's what they said. Only if they were joking though, which they clearly would be. Neither was sexy.
7:00 We're on the plane!! Jeff and I talk about homosexual travel companions, friends and landing plans. I want to make Manhattans, I don't know what they are. But I know they have alcohol and I will need several after all of this silly flying.
7:10
"You will squish the baby. You will kill the baby." Marlene says in a strict voice, with undertones of disbelief. Marlene is
the head flight attendant and she means business. No buckling babies into your seatbelt, row 12.
She looks a little like a brunette Stiffler's mom. The other main attendant is also a brunette. Jeff names her Darlene.
I'm not even going to give Blondie a name. She's practically invisible. Maybe she's catering to "Business Class"
7:15 The plane takes off and I'm asleep. Planes have that effect on me. Also, being extremely tired.
8:20 I wake! Jeff's sleeping, I spy on his watch to check the time, strictly for flogging purposes. Yay! Marlene and Darlene are serving refreshments. I order a gingerale... the champagne of gingers. Canada Dry. Marlene is making me want to own a Stewardess outfit.
I finish my bevy and patiently sit with the garbage, wanting more of that sleep stuff. The woman in front of me is reading a BUST magazine. Jealous! I want it. I wish I could read hers.
8:35 Darlene takes my garbage, but I fumble slightly and she gets a little grabby. Hrmm. I'd pegged her as the quiet one.
8:45 BUST girl is reading an Amy Poehler article - jealous! I will snooze,..
?:?? I'm awake again. Darlene and I are having it out. Hey - she started it back there with the garbage grab.
I retaliate by asking her for a beverage when the cart isn't right beside me. Darlene strikes back subtley by bringing me a diet pepsi, rather than diet coke. I forgive her, because I need another favour - the time. I try to make eye contact to ask if I can turn on my phone to check it but Darlene knows I'm a pain in the ass and she's not taking the bait. I trap her in the hall on her next pass with a verbal inquisition.
Darlene denies my request. The world is timeless. I stare out the plane and daydream about boarding along the clouds like that
kid bear on tailspin... remember? Well, it was cool regardless.
10:00 Jeff's awake! He tells me the time. He AGREES with Darlene about the phone. Pshh.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Pre Flight Insomnia Post
Lawd I'm tired. I've been up for many days it seems... but it's actually just a combination of many short nap sleeps and the lack of quality zzz time in the weeks leading up to tonight. I have reached the "silly sleepy excited not going to sleep" place. It is mellow and funny and sometimes likes to run and jump. And sleepy. Haha. I've been at this phase for awhile. Basically it rotates between excitement and extreme fatigue. Really cool. Kinda annoying. I really don't mind... it's just the inevitable crash that HAS to happen that makes me sad. Worse comes to worse, Friday morning is sleepinable. Yes, sleepinable's a word. Shut up. Sorry, apparently I'm irritable. Aghhh. Haha - And I CAN'T whine about it because Hubbard's had way less sleep and way more work than me and STILL HASN'T PACKED!! HAHAHA! Oh, man. Anyway... funny stuff. Good lord I'm retarded right now. And a little vulgar. In my word usage. Should stop blogging. P.S. I'm quite jacked to do my first FLOG too. I really enjoy the idea of blogging through the sky. It almost sparkles. Okay! Shower time! That will totally trick me into thinking it's time to wake up. At least I'll smell better. Yack!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Ask the Magic 8 Ball!
The 8 Ball is comin out.
Hey 8 Ball.
Q1: You ready to do this?
A1: It is certain.
Q2: Secret question I ask in my head?
A2: Cannot predict now
Comment: Yeah. That's life for ya. Hmmm.
Q3: Will Grant be able to magically fix my engine?
A3: It is decidedly so!
Comment: Wouldn't that be awesome??!? Oh Magic 8 Ball... don't get my hopes up so high.
UPDATE: I CALLED MY MECHANIC!!! They're replacing like 4 things in my engine and are working hard!! This is good! They are going to fix my engine!!! Ahhh!! If all goes well I should be getting a call at the end of the day. Wow. WOW. I love you Delburne Service Centre.
Hey 8 Ball.
Q1: You ready to do this?
A1: It is certain.
Q2: Secret question I ask in my head?
A2: Cannot predict now
Comment: Yeah. That's life for ya. Hmmm.
Q3: Will Grant be able to magically fix my engine?
A3: It is decidedly so!
Comment: Wouldn't that be awesome??!? Oh Magic 8 Ball... don't get my hopes up so high.
UPDATE: I CALLED MY MECHANIC!!! They're replacing like 4 things in my engine and are working hard!! This is good! They are going to fix my engine!!! Ahhh!! If all goes well I should be getting a call at the end of the day. Wow. WOW. I love you Delburne Service Centre.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Welcome to the Beer Olympics, The Year 2009.
Righ’ love, shall I tell you abou’ the Beer Olympics, then? I talked in an accent all night. I’m typing in one now. You probably can’t notice so I’ll stop.
I’ve been privileged to attend many glorious gong shows in my young life. The Beer Olympics was no exception. I feel like I drank a lot of beer, so the following is an approximation of what happened.
Saturday Night.
10ish pm
After powernapping, my date Asha and I journey the few blocks to her highschool chum, Blaine’s house. I’m greeted by Mike, a loud boisterous roommate, but am quickly distracted by mass spandex. The first (and only) spandex clad girl I notice is Heather. She’s the type of girl I instantly fall for, dawning a pink 80’s style bodysuit, sparkly spandex tights and a drawn on moustache. Her friend Jen is dressed normally, but if you’re friends with Heather, you’re obviously a good time. Oh? We need 4 to a team? Jen and Heather are recruited to join England (me and Asha). Done.
10:05
A swarm of yellow and black spandex clad Jamaican wrestlers pour out of the house, looking to compete. The case of beer in my hand is practically pulling me into the kitchen so we can start the party. I oblige, pull out beer and proceed downstairs to a basement converted to a full out pub for beer curling.
10:27
I shouldn’t blame the Jamaicans for not being able to curl. They just don’t have proper facilities at home. Team England took them in an embarrassing 50-0 loss. Unfortunately, winning at drinking games is a poor way to get drunk. The Spanish and the Mexicans are now waiting for a go. They all look magnificent. Asha and I leave the second half of our team to take on challengers and head outside to check out more of the action. I pass flamboyant Brazilians and green fatigued Cubans on my way to the campfire.
10:59
The 2 Steves at the campfire challenge us to Beer Pong. I cheat and pour extra beer into our cups. Asha and I forfeit the first game so we can drink the Steves' beer as well. Feeling good. Feeling obnoxious and English. Swearing too much. Rematch? Yes.
11:42
Asha’s younger brother Dex shows up with his posse (Team Ireland) as we finish our second game. Yes, we won. Yes, there is much rejoicing.
11:48 - ???
*Asha comes and goes, leaving me to babysit brother, friends and fire. I force booze, drugs and cigarettes upon them with flourish. Dex is being responsible, but is nursing a beer, so I let him slide. His friends John and Spencer seemed to be open to my bad influence – so I get them messed up. Asha brings us potato chips, there is much rejoicing.
*I meet a young fellow named Adam. Adam seems off put by the massive amount of spandex wearing men around him, I am off put by his attitude and write him off as a square. A short while later Adam is knocking apart the firepit and pouring Frisbees full of gasoline on it. Okay, maybe he’s not a square, but I’m still not impressed. He is making me sober up and act like a mom as I rebuild the fire pit. Asha shoots me a look and I decide to stop acting responsible and move elsewhere.
*I wonder away from the newly rebuilt and raging fire and speak briefly with members of team Spain. I say briefly, because they don’t actually speak English. “No habla espanol,” I say, followed by, “Me yamma Anne.” I then run into the house and am greeted by fresh pineapple chunks being sliced and served. I love them so much. I am one with the pineapple chunks. The flavours are making love to my taste buds.
1:?? – 4:?? The evening is topped off with a Team England reunion, more beer curling, beer darts, some sort of card game? Did that actually happen? Beerboarding (which is similar to shotski) and wishing we could adventure to Heritage Park but being trapped inside as it was pouring rain. I end up crashing on a recliner, drunk texting myself to sleep. Moved to upstairs in the morning to have one of the longest and greatest pees of my life and move to a proper couch.
Other random memories
*Gayfest with Jamaicans and Cubans professing their love for roommate Mike for long periods of time.
*Asha wrestling
*No one knowing what a Bonspiel was. (And calling themselves fans of curling!!)
*Getting a sharpee tattoo which said “Do You Know Y?” (very profound)
*People being shocked when I talked in a non-English accent
*Drinking beer from a chip bowl
*Using flattery to get free PC Dry beer after ours ran out. "Ooh - is that PC beer? Is it good?"
*Texting myself "There are 2 types of men in this world, those who'll wear spandex jumpsuits..."
* Not losing a single event, other than our original Beer Pong forfeit.
I’ve been privileged to attend many glorious gong shows in my young life. The Beer Olympics was no exception. I feel like I drank a lot of beer, so the following is an approximation of what happened.
Saturday Night.
10ish pm
After powernapping, my date Asha and I journey the few blocks to her highschool chum, Blaine’s house. I’m greeted by Mike, a loud boisterous roommate, but am quickly distracted by mass spandex. The first (and only) spandex clad girl I notice is Heather. She’s the type of girl I instantly fall for, dawning a pink 80’s style bodysuit, sparkly spandex tights and a drawn on moustache. Her friend Jen is dressed normally, but if you’re friends with Heather, you’re obviously a good time. Oh? We need 4 to a team? Jen and Heather are recruited to join England (me and Asha). Done.
10:05
A swarm of yellow and black spandex clad Jamaican wrestlers pour out of the house, looking to compete. The case of beer in my hand is practically pulling me into the kitchen so we can start the party. I oblige, pull out beer and proceed downstairs to a basement converted to a full out pub for beer curling.
10:27
I shouldn’t blame the Jamaicans for not being able to curl. They just don’t have proper facilities at home. Team England took them in an embarrassing 50-0 loss. Unfortunately, winning at drinking games is a poor way to get drunk. The Spanish and the Mexicans are now waiting for a go. They all look magnificent. Asha and I leave the second half of our team to take on challengers and head outside to check out more of the action. I pass flamboyant Brazilians and green fatigued Cubans on my way to the campfire.
10:59
The 2 Steves at the campfire challenge us to Beer Pong. I cheat and pour extra beer into our cups. Asha and I forfeit the first game so we can drink the Steves' beer as well. Feeling good. Feeling obnoxious and English. Swearing too much. Rematch? Yes.
11:42
Asha’s younger brother Dex shows up with his posse (Team Ireland) as we finish our second game. Yes, we won. Yes, there is much rejoicing.
11:48 - ???
*Asha comes and goes, leaving me to babysit brother, friends and fire. I force booze, drugs and cigarettes upon them with flourish. Dex is being responsible, but is nursing a beer, so I let him slide. His friends John and Spencer seemed to be open to my bad influence – so I get them messed up. Asha brings us potato chips, there is much rejoicing.
*I meet a young fellow named Adam. Adam seems off put by the massive amount of spandex wearing men around him, I am off put by his attitude and write him off as a square. A short while later Adam is knocking apart the firepit and pouring Frisbees full of gasoline on it. Okay, maybe he’s not a square, but I’m still not impressed. He is making me sober up and act like a mom as I rebuild the fire pit. Asha shoots me a look and I decide to stop acting responsible and move elsewhere.
*I wonder away from the newly rebuilt and raging fire and speak briefly with members of team Spain. I say briefly, because they don’t actually speak English. “No habla espanol,” I say, followed by, “Me yamma Anne.” I then run into the house and am greeted by fresh pineapple chunks being sliced and served. I love them so much. I am one with the pineapple chunks. The flavours are making love to my taste buds.
1:?? – 4:?? The evening is topped off with a Team England reunion, more beer curling, beer darts, some sort of card game? Did that actually happen? Beerboarding (which is similar to shotski) and wishing we could adventure to Heritage Park but being trapped inside as it was pouring rain. I end up crashing on a recliner, drunk texting myself to sleep. Moved to upstairs in the morning to have one of the longest and greatest pees of my life and move to a proper couch.
Other random memories
*Gayfest with Jamaicans and Cubans professing their love for roommate Mike for long periods of time.
*Asha wrestling
*No one knowing what a Bonspiel was. (And calling themselves fans of curling!!)
*Getting a sharpee tattoo which said “Do You Know Y?” (very profound)
*People being shocked when I talked in a non-English accent
*Drinking beer from a chip bowl
*Using flattery to get free PC Dry beer after ours ran out. "Ooh - is that PC beer? Is it good?"
*Texting myself "There are 2 types of men in this world, those who'll wear spandex jumpsuits..."
* Not losing a single event, other than our original Beer Pong forfeit.
Friday, July 24, 2009
RRRARARARAR Therapy! Let's talk it out with Baxter!
WHERE IS MELLOW ANNE??? MELLOW ANNE! I NEED YOU! HELP ME! I'M STRESS BALLS!
Advice from my father:
Anne, if you're worried about something there are only 2 options. Either you can do something about it. Or you can't.
If you can do something about it, do it.
If you can't, you have to let it go. If you can take a lesson from it, do that.
There is no point in worrying.
I guess you're right, Dad advice in my head. But right now I have to wait to see if my car engine is going to be repairable, or, the more likely situation, it isn't. Then I guess I have to get a car. Will definately have to get a PT job when I get to Calgary and apply for student loans asap. Before I leave on vacation fo sho. Okay. So I just need to get my life together a little bit and I can stop these awful feelings. And be mellow again. I'm so much better that way. Don't you think?
Advice from my father:
Anne, if you're worried about something there are only 2 options. Either you can do something about it. Or you can't.
If you can do something about it, do it.
If you can't, you have to let it go. If you can take a lesson from it, do that.
There is no point in worrying.
I guess you're right, Dad advice in my head. But right now I have to wait to see if my car engine is going to be repairable, or, the more likely situation, it isn't. Then I guess I have to get a car. Will definately have to get a PT job when I get to Calgary and apply for student loans asap. Before I leave on vacation fo sho. Okay. So I just need to get my life together a little bit and I can stop these awful feelings. And be mellow again. I'm so much better that way. Don't you think?
Freutag Ya, Mine Auto, Nicht.
Gutenmorg,
Ya, is Freutag! Ich can't really sprechin zee deutsch, so I'll stop now.
What's up my peeps? I just found out my motor on my car is dead. Dead. My car. MY CAR. Fack!!! What am I going to do?
Mom: "Oh, you can just rent a car!"
Me: "I'm not going to rent a car, mom"
NOT HELPFUL. This is what I want to hear,
Mom: "Don't worry Anne, we'll buy you a new car. No worries!"
Me: "THANK YOU! Was that so hard??"
Mom: "Not at all. I don't know why I didn't buy you a new car earlier!"
Me: "No shit, mom. Gawd!"
WHY CAN'T I HAVE MAGICAL POWERS!!?!?!
Ya, is Freutag! Ich can't really sprechin zee deutsch, so I'll stop now.
What's up my peeps? I just found out my motor on my car is dead. Dead. My car. MY CAR. Fack!!! What am I going to do?
Mom: "Oh, you can just rent a car!"
Me: "I'm not going to rent a car, mom"
NOT HELPFUL. This is what I want to hear,
Mom: "Don't worry Anne, we'll buy you a new car. No worries!"
Me: "THANK YOU! Was that so hard??"
Mom: "Not at all. I don't know why I didn't buy you a new car earlier!"
Me: "No shit, mom. Gawd!"
WHY CAN'T I HAVE MAGICAL POWERS!!?!?!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Paper Bag Bunny Story
Gertrude’s eyes shifted back and forth as she collected garbage under her paper lunch bag bunny body. The others would be here soon… she didn’t want them to know of her dirty habit… or any of her dirty habits for that matter. She settled on top of a couple of ketchup packs and a pop can as Lola, Wilfred and Maybelline hopped onto Anne’s desk where Gertrude lived.
Lola’s piercings screamed “badass punk.” Gertrude didn’t get it. She only had her belly button pierced, she thought it showed off her naked bunny body quite well. Wilfred was decked in a full green tuxedo, body filled out by the large bottle of water he held underneath… his fangs shone sexily in the light. Maybelline’s sweet polka-dot skirt and disposition made her make-up come off as “classy” rather than whoreish. “She thinks she’s sooo much better than me,” Gertrude thought sourly. “But I need these bunnies. Every last one of them.”
“Thanks for coming,” Gertrude started, as she splayed her rabbit body across the desk, garbage tumbling out from underneath. She blushed and continued through grease stained lips,
“We have a common enemy here my paper bag bunny friends. Sue Blair comes and collects garbage here every day. We must stop her.”
Lola rolled her eyes, “Who the fuck cares about fuckin’ garbage?” she spat in a fake English accent.
“Who cares about garbage?!” Gertrude spat back, quickly gathering a new pile under her. “Who cares about garbage?! You do know some humans would consider US garbage, don’t you? How long do you think a paper bag bunny’s life span is?!? One week? Two!? A year? WE will become garbage soon! We must stand up for ourselves and every other piece of so called “trash” in this place!!”
“She has a point” Wilfred chimed in.
“No one would consider us garbage.” Maybelline said sweetly, twisting nervously in her skirt.
“You better believe they would,” Gertrude was adamant.
“What’s the plan?” Wilfred asked
“We must get to Sue Blair’s office and jump her in the morning.”
Eventually all the bunnies agreed.
**************************************************
The next morning, Sue Blair strolled through the doors of accounting. The last thing she saw was bits of garbage being thrown at her from every direction. Then, blackness.
She awoke in the janitors closet, bound with an extension cord.
“We’ve been watching you, Sue,” Wilfred started, his crudely drawn fangs never looking more intimidating.
Sue moaned through her gag. Eyes wide with fear and confusion.
“We know all abou' your fuckin’ garbage collectin'” Lola hopped up to join in,
“We aren’t going to be tossed away without a fight.” Maybelline added.
“YEAH!” Gertrude yelled, a little too loudly.
“Shut your ‘ore mouth!” Lola snapped,
“I’m not a WHORE!” Gertrude retorted, fumbling with her belly button ring and blinking back tears as mascara began to bleed out her overdone eyes. She turned her now wild expression at Sue.
“You have to stop collecting garbage.” Gertrude stated calmly.
The bunnies left the closet and quietly found their way back to the creative and promotions departments without being detected. Sue was later found by Anthony, the Engineer and said nothing of the incident. Sue stopped collecting garbage until bags were overflowing and she was fired. On her last day of work, she found the bunnies and ripped each one to shreds. The bunny shreds floated down her throat and choked her to death. Sue’s ghost and the bunny ghosts eventually forgave each other.
Let’s all forgive someone today before it’s too late…
*** Make Your Own Paper Bag Bunny! ***
Get a paper lunch bag
Turn it upside down
Draw a face on the flap, with the bottom part of the mouth just underneath the flap.
Decorate (Don't forget a fluffy tail on the back!)
Cut out 2 ears and tape them on.
Enjoy.
Lola’s piercings screamed “badass punk.” Gertrude didn’t get it. She only had her belly button pierced, she thought it showed off her naked bunny body quite well. Wilfred was decked in a full green tuxedo, body filled out by the large bottle of water he held underneath… his fangs shone sexily in the light. Maybelline’s sweet polka-dot skirt and disposition made her make-up come off as “classy” rather than whoreish. “She thinks she’s sooo much better than me,” Gertrude thought sourly. “But I need these bunnies. Every last one of them.”
“Thanks for coming,” Gertrude started, as she splayed her rabbit body across the desk, garbage tumbling out from underneath. She blushed and continued through grease stained lips,
“We have a common enemy here my paper bag bunny friends. Sue Blair comes and collects garbage here every day. We must stop her.”
Lola rolled her eyes, “Who the fuck cares about fuckin’ garbage?” she spat in a fake English accent.
“Who cares about garbage?!” Gertrude spat back, quickly gathering a new pile under her. “Who cares about garbage?! You do know some humans would consider US garbage, don’t you? How long do you think a paper bag bunny’s life span is?!? One week? Two!? A year? WE will become garbage soon! We must stand up for ourselves and every other piece of so called “trash” in this place!!”
“She has a point” Wilfred chimed in.
“No one would consider us garbage.” Maybelline said sweetly, twisting nervously in her skirt.
“You better believe they would,” Gertrude was adamant.
“What’s the plan?” Wilfred asked
“We must get to Sue Blair’s office and jump her in the morning.”
Eventually all the bunnies agreed.
**************************************************
The next morning, Sue Blair strolled through the doors of accounting. The last thing she saw was bits of garbage being thrown at her from every direction. Then, blackness.
She awoke in the janitors closet, bound with an extension cord.
“We’ve been watching you, Sue,” Wilfred started, his crudely drawn fangs never looking more intimidating.
Sue moaned through her gag. Eyes wide with fear and confusion.
“We know all abou' your fuckin’ garbage collectin'” Lola hopped up to join in,
“We aren’t going to be tossed away without a fight.” Maybelline added.
“YEAH!” Gertrude yelled, a little too loudly.
“Shut your ‘ore mouth!” Lola snapped,
“I’m not a WHORE!” Gertrude retorted, fumbling with her belly button ring and blinking back tears as mascara began to bleed out her overdone eyes. She turned her now wild expression at Sue.
“You have to stop collecting garbage.” Gertrude stated calmly.
The bunnies left the closet and quietly found their way back to the creative and promotions departments without being detected. Sue was later found by Anthony, the Engineer and said nothing of the incident. Sue stopped collecting garbage until bags were overflowing and she was fired. On her last day of work, she found the bunnies and ripped each one to shreds. The bunny shreds floated down her throat and choked her to death. Sue’s ghost and the bunny ghosts eventually forgave each other.
Let’s all forgive someone today before it’s too late…
*** Make Your Own Paper Bag Bunny! ***
Get a paper lunch bag
Turn it upside down
Draw a face on the flap, with the bottom part of the mouth just underneath the flap.
Decorate (Don't forget a fluffy tail on the back!)
Cut out 2 ears and tape them on.
Enjoy.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Book Club!
Hai,
I'd like to quickly transcribe an excerpt from a book I just finished called "My Horizontal Life, A Collection of One Night Stands" By Chelsea Handler. This little portion really hit home with me. If you've ever drank with me, you'll know why. A thank you to the great Chelsea Rauch for the lend.
"It was Valentines Day and I had spent the day in bed with my life partner, Ketel One. The two of us watched a romantic movie marathon on TBS Superstation that made me wonder how people who write romantic comedies can sleep at night.
At some point during almost every romantic comedy, the female lead suddenly trips and falls, stumbling helplessly over something ridiculous like a leaf, and then some Matthew McConaughey type either whips around the corner just in the nick of time to save her or is clumsily pulled down along with her. That event predictably leads to the magical moment of their first kiss. Please. I fall all the time. You know who comes and gets me? The bouncer."
I'd like to quickly transcribe an excerpt from a book I just finished called "My Horizontal Life, A Collection of One Night Stands" By Chelsea Handler. This little portion really hit home with me. If you've ever drank with me, you'll know why. A thank you to the great Chelsea Rauch for the lend.
"It was Valentines Day and I had spent the day in bed with my life partner, Ketel One. The two of us watched a romantic movie marathon on TBS Superstation that made me wonder how people who write romantic comedies can sleep at night.
At some point during almost every romantic comedy, the female lead suddenly trips and falls, stumbling helplessly over something ridiculous like a leaf, and then some Matthew McConaughey type either whips around the corner just in the nick of time to save her or is clumsily pulled down along with her. That event predictably leads to the magical moment of their first kiss. Please. I fall all the time. You know who comes and gets me? The bouncer."
Friday, July 17, 2009
It's bout bloggin' time!!!
I'm so sorry my beautiful and classy readers. Apologies to my ugly, offensive readers as well. I've really dropped the ball this past while. Forgive me?
No? Well fine. I guess I'll have to earn back your love, one post at a time. Hey, that rhymed. So did that. That didn't. Moving on...
Let's get back in motion with a little 8ball Wisdom
Dear Magic 8 Ball
Q1: How awesome am I?
A1: Cannot Predict Now.
Comment: I know... you're probably thinking "You're awesomeness increases every day, Anne... it's so hard to tell how awesome you are each minute because your coolness is exponential." You are such a fucking suck up, 8 Ball.
Q2: Will I go deaf if I continue to abuse Q-tips?
A2: Better not tell you now.
Comment: What??
Q3: Will I ever win the 649 jackpot?
A3: Very doubtful.
Comment: :( I won my first 649 prize yesterday - a big $5 dolla! I thought I was on my way...
Okee dokie... In other news I made several paperbag bunny puppets today. Mine's named Gertrude. She gives off whoreish vibes and likes to hide garbage. I may feature her and her other bunny friends in a story soon. If you'd like? Do you guys like the stories? I'll ask the 8 Ball.
BONUS
Q4: Do my readers enjoy my stories?
A4: Yes! Definately!
Comment: Good! That's good.
No? Well fine. I guess I'll have to earn back your love, one post at a time. Hey, that rhymed. So did that. That didn't. Moving on...
Let's get back in motion with a little 8ball Wisdom
Dear Magic 8 Ball
Q1: How awesome am I?
A1: Cannot Predict Now.
Comment: I know... you're probably thinking "You're awesomeness increases every day, Anne... it's so hard to tell how awesome you are each minute because your coolness is exponential." You are such a fucking suck up, 8 Ball.
Q2: Will I go deaf if I continue to abuse Q-tips?
A2: Better not tell you now.
Comment: What??
Q3: Will I ever win the 649 jackpot?
A3: Very doubtful.
Comment: :( I won my first 649 prize yesterday - a big $5 dolla! I thought I was on my way...
Okee dokie... In other news I made several paperbag bunny puppets today. Mine's named Gertrude. She gives off whoreish vibes and likes to hide garbage. I may feature her and her other bunny friends in a story soon. If you'd like? Do you guys like the stories? I'll ask the 8 Ball.
BONUS
Q4: Do my readers enjoy my stories?
A4: Yes! Definately!
Comment: Good! That's good.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
What? I don't know.
“God, you’re a douche,” he whispered as he teased the knife along my throat.
“And that hair!” The woman spat. “I want to burn it off along with that freckle lipped face of yours!”
I self-consciously reached towards my mouth and the knife pulled harder.
“Easy there, princess,” he breathed and the woman laughed. They pulled me into a small, neatly kept apartment.
“Sit” she commanded and I moved towards the couch.
“On the floor, you dog!” and like a good one, I obeyed.
“We don’t tolerate intolerance here.” The woman continued, as her stilettos strolled casually across the room. The man eyed her with satisfaction as she pulled an open laptop from the coffee table. The baby giraffe screen saver blinked out and I saw the familiar green and white layout of my blog come onscreen. “Do you recognize this?”
“Yes, I…” The laptop flew towards me at blazing speed. I knew on impact I would die and prepared the best I could in my split second left, but a flashing blade shattered it mid air. I gasped.
“We can’t let her off that easily,” the man smiled as he sheathed his sword. “Oh…” he baby talked as he looked down at my urine soaked pants, “couldn’t you have saved that for the shower?”
The woman bounded across the room and slapped his face, hard. “Ruin my fun!” she growled. “Fine! What do you want to do with her?”
The man stared meaningfully into her eyes and I fumbled my hand across the carpet to find a shard of laptop.
“You know…” his voice was hot steel.
“Mmmm,” hers, melting butter,
The man nodded and unsheathed his sword again. “Up.” He commanded as the metal point waved delicately in front of my nose. I did as I was told and he led me to a bedroom. “In you gooo!” his heavy boot found my ass and I tumbled inside as the door slammed shut behind me. I wretched on the floor and tears began to dilute my pool of vomit. I wiped my face with my sleeve, then stood and pulled off my soiled clothes. As my pants thudded to the ground my heart did a double take – my cell phone was still in the pocket! My shaky hands found it just as the bedroom door flew open.
“Eww! Gross!” The man yelled as I grabbed a sheet to cover myself. The woman pushed him out of the doorway.
“What are you going to do with me?” my voice trembled.
“We’re going to make you do what you should’ve done a long time ago” she smiled, “A fate worse than death.”
My eyes shifted back and forth as they stared at me with horrifying intent.
“We’re going to make you stop writing silly stories and pack your house.”
“Yes,” the man had recovered and found his ruthless tone. “Now.”
I knew I had no choice… so I stopped typing.
“And that hair!” The woman spat. “I want to burn it off along with that freckle lipped face of yours!”
I self-consciously reached towards my mouth and the knife pulled harder.
“Easy there, princess,” he breathed and the woman laughed. They pulled me into a small, neatly kept apartment.
“Sit” she commanded and I moved towards the couch.
“On the floor, you dog!” and like a good one, I obeyed.
“We don’t tolerate intolerance here.” The woman continued, as her stilettos strolled casually across the room. The man eyed her with satisfaction as she pulled an open laptop from the coffee table. The baby giraffe screen saver blinked out and I saw the familiar green and white layout of my blog come onscreen. “Do you recognize this?”
“Yes, I…” The laptop flew towards me at blazing speed. I knew on impact I would die and prepared the best I could in my split second left, but a flashing blade shattered it mid air. I gasped.
“We can’t let her off that easily,” the man smiled as he sheathed his sword. “Oh…” he baby talked as he looked down at my urine soaked pants, “couldn’t you have saved that for the shower?”
The woman bounded across the room and slapped his face, hard. “Ruin my fun!” she growled. “Fine! What do you want to do with her?”
The man stared meaningfully into her eyes and I fumbled my hand across the carpet to find a shard of laptop.
“You know…” his voice was hot steel.
“Mmmm,” hers, melting butter,
The man nodded and unsheathed his sword again. “Up.” He commanded as the metal point waved delicately in front of my nose. I did as I was told and he led me to a bedroom. “In you gooo!” his heavy boot found my ass and I tumbled inside as the door slammed shut behind me. I wretched on the floor and tears began to dilute my pool of vomit. I wiped my face with my sleeve, then stood and pulled off my soiled clothes. As my pants thudded to the ground my heart did a double take – my cell phone was still in the pocket! My shaky hands found it just as the bedroom door flew open.
“Eww! Gross!” The man yelled as I grabbed a sheet to cover myself. The woman pushed him out of the doorway.
“What are you going to do with me?” my voice trembled.
“We’re going to make you do what you should’ve done a long time ago” she smiled, “A fate worse than death.”
My eyes shifted back and forth as they stared at me with horrifying intent.
“We’re going to make you stop writing silly stories and pack your house.”
“Yes,” the man had recovered and found his ruthless tone. “Now.”
I knew I had no choice… so I stopped typing.
Monday, July 6, 2009
My problems with taking life seriously
This blog exists for entertainment purposes only. Anything written in this blog is not necessarily the opinion of Anne Baxter, or her affiliates.
I read my past entries and often feel like a douche. Like, who the fuck am I to be sitting on any sort of high horse? Or short horse even? Let's be honest, I'm not even fit to crouch next to a baby miniature pony. I know this. I do. So whiz in the shower if it please you, wear sunblock proudly, call me on my shit, cause on here I just prattle. In real life, I can also be a bit of a prattler and a bit of a screw-up. But, I'm trying to be bold, because it's more exciting than playing it safe and I encourage all of you to take advantage of this experience we call life. It's just days like today, when I'm STILL trying to work off a weekend hangover, I feel the need to step back to the appropriate side of the line and take a little time out. Gotta little bitter sweet happening.
We stopped talking about the blog, didn't we?
K.
I hate you all. Next entry... story time again. Let's get off this track. Blech.
I read my past entries and often feel like a douche. Like, who the fuck am I to be sitting on any sort of high horse? Or short horse even? Let's be honest, I'm not even fit to crouch next to a baby miniature pony. I know this. I do. So whiz in the shower if it please you, wear sunblock proudly, call me on my shit, cause on here I just prattle. In real life, I can also be a bit of a prattler and a bit of a screw-up. But, I'm trying to be bold, because it's more exciting than playing it safe and I encourage all of you to take advantage of this experience we call life. It's just days like today, when I'm STILL trying to work off a weekend hangover, I feel the need to step back to the appropriate side of the line and take a little time out. Gotta little bitter sweet happening.
We stopped talking about the blog, didn't we?
K.
I hate you all. Next entry... story time again. Let's get off this track. Blech.
Baahaha- Stampede
Hahaha! I deleted my newest post this morning because... well, just because, okay? You didn't miss much, I assure you. Anyway - the good news is, when I deleted it I found an attempt to write about Stampede for my blog. I must have saved it to drafts because I was too hungover to function. Here it is, a little time capsule from a few weeks ago.
That's as far as I got. But my heart was in the right place...
Mmm... hello.
Monday morning... still recovering from a weekend of true and intense debaucherous stampede fun. Stomach churning, brain moving... slow, random bruises and memories. Stampede is Vegas moved to Calgary and I spanked that bitch like she was your mother. Yes. That made sense. Listen! Ughh. Uggghhhh. Having a really hard time having thoughts and putting them into words. I came here to assure you and inspire you...
That's as far as I got. But my heart was in the right place...
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Pass me that banana, its speckles calm my nerves
I like me a speckly banana. They always seem to have the perfect ripeness at convenience stores... but I rarely buy them there. A DOLLAR for a BANANA? What am I, in Hollywood??!? My brother used to rave about bananas. It was the only fruit he'd really eat. He said they were the toughest fruit. It inspired my first decent commercial. (Samarai style, warrior fruit)
Green bananas make me gag.
If you're into screwing over grocery stores, go to the self checkout and ring all your produce in as bananas. I haven't tried this trick yet... but I feel like I might break down when I'm a student and have no money and crave real food. Please don't judge me.
Baaaaa nanas
nananananananananaaaaaaaas
Put them on your cereal
Mix them in a shake
Peel and mush em in your mouth
The speckly ones taste great!
I like me a banana
Bananas like me too
Rub them up against my skin
Stick them in my shoes
Green bananas make me gag.
If you're into screwing over grocery stores, go to the self checkout and ring all your produce in as bananas. I haven't tried this trick yet... but I feel like I might break down when I'm a student and have no money and crave real food. Please don't judge me.
Baaaaa nanas
nananananananananaaaaaaaas
Put them on your cereal
Mix them in a shake
Peel and mush em in your mouth
The speckly ones taste great!
I like me a banana
Bananas like me too
Rub them up against my skin
Stick them in my shoes
Ask the Magic 8 Ball!
Dear Magic 8 Ball,
Q 1: Are you tickleish?
A 1: Outlook not so good.
Comment: Me neither *shifty eyes*
Q 2: Will I die in a firey car wreck on my way home tonight?
A 2: Reply hazy. Try Again.
A 2b: Concentrate and ask again.
A 2c: As I see it, yes.
Comment: No I won't.
Q 3: What's your favorite band?
A 3: Most Likely
Comment: Most Likely? Do you mean Organic? I'm confused. http://www.myspace.com/mostlikely
Bonus
Q 4: Will Billy Mays go to heaven?
A 4: Most Likely
Q 5: Will I be able to walk like a normal person by tomorrow?
A 5: Reply hazy. Try Again.
A 5b: Outlook not so good.
Comment: Figures.
Q 1: Are you tickleish?
A 1: Outlook not so good.
Comment: Me neither *shifty eyes*
Q 2: Will I die in a firey car wreck on my way home tonight?
A 2: Reply hazy. Try Again.
A 2b: Concentrate and ask again.
A 2c: As I see it, yes.
Comment: No I won't.
Q 3: What's your favorite band?
A 3: Most Likely
Comment: Most Likely? Do you mean Organic? I'm confused. http://www.myspace.com/mostlikely
Bonus
Q 4: Will Billy Mays go to heaven?
A 4: Most Likely
Q 5: Will I be able to walk like a normal person by tomorrow?
A 5: Reply hazy. Try Again.
A 5b: Outlook not so good.
Comment: Figures.
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