I Only Wish My Name Was Whitney And I Had A Drug Problem

The other night I got into my car, put the key in the ignition and it blew up. No, I'm kidding (I know you were concerned, you probably had one hand on the phone getting ready to call me/911/moviefone to see if I'm ok and/or when that new Kevin Bacon movie is coming to a theatre near you. Well rest assured, I am fine/there IS no new Kevin Bacon movie). What really happened was I got in my car, turned it on, started driving and the most horrible thought popped into my head. I actually thought "man it would so suck right now if someone was in the back seat waiting to kill me and heard me singing along to this Whitney Houston song". Now a SANE paranoid schizophrenic might worry about the (non-existent) person trying to kill them. An INsane paranoid schizophrenic, though, worries about the (non-existent) potential murderer hearing her sing. To Whitney. Yeah. Clearly I have issues!


And speaking of issues, did anyone else see School of Rock? When the other teachers ask Jack Black which test he prefers and he starts to quote lines from Whitney Houston's "The Greatest Love of All"? And they're all like "Isn't that a song?" and he says no, nope, not a song and it's just downright hilarious, folks. Well it is if you had a few hundred drinks before watching it.


On another random note, I have discovered I really just like saying "free-base". It makes me wish I had a drug problem. But anyway, I have to go free-base some Frosted Mini Wheats now.

To Whom It May Concern,


I can not come out to play today. I am too busy snorting shampoo (Yeah, most people just wash their hair with it. Not me. I like to snort it. And by snort I mean not just smell, I mean consume nasally. Especially when I'm in a store and probably on camera and there are people around and they're all like 'what the hell is wrong with that girl')/trying to bring down Amazon.com/drinking mass quantities of Vanilla Coke/plotting and scheming to rule the world, or at least half of it/power washing my windows (ok I'm not really power washing my windows. I am closing them though so that the nice window power washing people don't power wash the inside of my house as well, does that count?)/asking my ouija board such life altering questions as "Is my next door neighbor a serial killer?" and "First they had tickle me Elmo, then Chicken Dance Elmo, then Limbo Elmo, now Hokey Pokey Elmo, when is Drunk One Night Stand Elmo coming out?"/dancing around to The White Stripes' "Hardest Button to Button" and Outkast's "Happy Valentine's Day" until my neighbors call the police (any minute now, did I mention I'm naked and on my front lawn?)/praying to GOD that I have the sense to not post this, but knowing even he can't help me now.

Don't call me, I'll call you (when my play clothes are clean and I'm ready to rumble).


Love, Me

This is the end, friend!

I loved Strawberry Shortcake. I did. But this! This is downright frightening. It looks like a cross between Strawberry Shortcake and that Chucky doll from "Child's Play". Apparently it even says "Who's your favorite friend?" which is a little too reminiscent of Chucky's "We're friends 'til the end" for my liking. But. It could also just be that I have a headache and generally when I have a headache everything seems scarily similar to Chucky from "Child's Play". Like one time, I was convinced Clay Aiken was Chucky. Do you care?

I didn't think so.

We now return to your regularly scheduled program, already in progress.

Because Peanut Butter Is That Good

I was walking out to my car the other day and heard people screaming. I reached my car (the direction from which the screaming was coming) and saw my next door neighbors at their car. My neighbors are an elderly man and his handicapped wife, the most harmless people, so I thought it odd that they were yelling. The man was walking away from the car and the woman was sitting in the passenger seat with the door open, obviously unable to get out on her own and into her wheelchair. As I was getting into my car I heard her yell "I want to go in the house" and him yell back "You want to go in the house? Well you should have let me buy that case of peanut butter, shouldn't you have?" as he walked away from her. It may be wrong, and it's a good thing I'm already going to hell for other reasons (like how sometimes I confuse parentheses with quotation marks when I'm really tired or the simple fact that i mock god), but I laughed pretty damn hard as I drove away.

We Couldn't All Be Cowboys So Some Of Us Are Clowns And Some Of Us Are Dancers On The Midway (And Some Of Us Are Paranoid Schizophrenics)


I fell while walking out of the grocery store today. One could say I was wearing shoes that were too high. One could say that I am lacking in the graceful department. One would be right, only not.

It's more likely that this was the work of the MOLE. Does anyone else suspect that their life is actually an episode of "The Mole" gone awry? If they did a "The Mole: On Crack" I would be the mole. But I'm not the mole here. So which one of you is? And why are you conspiring against me?

The winner of the game, a.k.a. my life, is the last one standing besides the mole. He/she gets the cash and is supposed to be all happy with that. Ummm. Dear Mole, I do not want the money. Well I do, but more importantly I want your head on a stick. Thanks for playing. Love, Me.

Don't Cry Over Used Milk


So I was watching "Charmed" early the other evening. Yeah, I just admitted that. One of my dear, dear friends is always telling me I need to "accept" my dorkiness. So this is me accepting it. Sometimes, when I'm tired after work and want to take a nap on the sofa I put "Charmed" on (she says while blushing uncontrollably). Anyway. In this particular episode the girls/witches/whatever were talking about the alignment of the planets and the moon and how this hadn't happened in a hundred years or something (hey, I was half asleep, ok?). I heard this and immediately thought to myself, wow that explains why everyone in my life is acting so strange!
Do you see anything wrong with this? I'm like a walking, talking "Circle everything that is wrong with this picture" book. For starters, it's a fictional tv show, and fictional = not real. Sadly when I was thinking about what was wrong with my thought process that is not the first thing that came to mind. What did come to mind was that it was an old show, a repeat, so the alignment of the planets and moon were most likely not all messed up at the time I was watching it. I am a sad, sad girl.
Adding to my sadness? Why does Hood's Simply Smart milk taste like it's already been sitting in a bowl of cereal and then poured back into the carton? What's so simply smart about that? That they got me to buy "used" milk? Simply WRONG if you ask me. Remind me to write them a letter.

A Dear John Letter, Only Not


Dear California,


I used to want to live there. I used to want to bask in your sunlight and drink the sweet, sweet nectar of your oranges. Oh wait, that might have been Florida. Anyway. I used to want to walk along your sandy beaches and dream not of California Girls, but of California BOYS. I used to want to rollerblade along Venice Beach, even though I didn't (and still don't) know how to rollerblade and would probably end up breaking atleast one bone, thus requiring a trip to the local hospital. I used to want to go to Disneyland, Universal Studios Hollywood, and Sea World, even though my mother said Disneyland was the devil's playground. I wanted to live in Palo Alto (ok, this may be due in part to that is where "Felicity" hailed from, and what do you mean she was a fictional character on a tv show??). In high school I applied to several California universities even though I knew I would never actually attend them. I simply wanted to hold an envelope in my hand with one of your lovely zip codes on it, to see that "CA" return address and know that should I want you to, you would welcome me with open arms. I covetted your 'Golden State'. (Why do I feel like breaking out into song right about now, particularly Madonna's "This Used to Be My Playground"?)


Alas, my feelings have changed. I no longer covet you. Now you give me no choice but to mock you. Oh California, why did you have to go and change? I was really hoping that things could work out between us. You had such potential. I would say "it's not you, it's me", but there's one problem with that. It's you.


Don't worry, I still want to drink the sweet, sweet nectar of your oranges. Maybe we can be friends with benefits?


Fondly,
-Your Ex

Sarah Lee Guys Should Not Stalk Star Wars Geeks At The Grocery Store


This has nothing to do with Sarah Lee guys or Star Wars geeks or the grocery store. But my dear friend SnowWhite* was accosted at the grocery store by a Sarah Lee guy, so. Yeah.
Anyway.
This Just In: Dunkin Donuts now has lattes and cappucino. I'll take "Things that Disturb Me" for $400, Alex. (Why the hell isn't that show on anymore? Where in the world is Alex Trebec? Hi Alex, if you're reading this)
If I want a latte or a cappucino, I'll go to Starbucks. If I want a...donut I'll go to Dunkin Donuts. Errr, wait. I mean, if I want a plain old boring cup of coffee, I'll go to Dunkin Donuts. sorry, I got confused. I'm over it now. However, I am not over this, dare I say, overstepping of boundaries. Know your limits, Dunkin Donuts. What do you think this is, America, where you can do anything and be anything you want? Ding. ok, ok. Dong.
Stop trying to take over the world. There are already people taking care of that (Hi Disney Corp., Hi Jennifer Love Hewitt, Hi Kelly Ripa).

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent

I Don't Sleep, I Dream



So the Space Program offered me the opportunity to be an astronaut. They said I would be gone for 11 years though. I was like, wow, 11 years, everything will have changed. And they said well it's either this or a stint as Mayor of New York. So I said ok, space sounds like fun.
And then I woke up. Someone was pounding on my door. And it wasn't the damn Space Program. Although it could have been if by Space Program I meant Crazy Serial Killer Neighbor Guy.
I have got to stop watching horror movies before bed.

Apparently it's National Drive Like You're Hopped Up On Crank Day (yes, I said crank. If you're gonna be hopped up on something you gotta do it do right). Here I am cruising along in my sensible Toyota rocking out to The Bee Gees "How Deep Is Your Love" (hey, it was on the radio, ok? It's not like I was playing the CD. Or that I own it or anything like that. yeah. cause I don't. so.), thinking about one day stopping at that old folk's home I pass every day and picking up the random old person outside and saying "get in, gramps, it's me, don't you remember your own granddaughter?" and then crying hysterically until he gets in the car.
Not that I am in any way endorsing making old people question whether they have alzheimers or not. Because that would be mean. Anyway. It was just a thought.
So there I am. And there they are. The Crank Drivers.
Where are they going? And in such a rush? More importantly why was I not invited? Maybe I was, but didn't notice because I was too busy fantasizing about freaking out old people or wondering just how deep your love is.
But I'm getting away from myself here. Wow, too late, I totally got away from myself already and forgot my point.
Because surely I had one. While I'm off the point here though, that movie "Xanadu" with Olivia Newton John? What. The. Hell. Is that about?
If someone finds my point, I'll give them some yellow m&m's.
I need a vacation.

I love cats. This is why I have two of them. But I have limits. I like good cats. I do NOT like Satan's Spawn Cat that lives in the wilderness in back of my house. I'm not sure if it was the time he brought a half dead, half crying bird to my doorstep, or the time he climbed up my screen and tore it to hell with his demonic claws, but somewhere along the line I just decided this cat is not good.
As if this isn't bad enough he likes to taunt my good, innocent cats with his evilness. If I forget for a minute that the Devil himself (in cat form) lurks outside my house and leave my sliding door open he will come right up to the screen and say things to my cats like "yo mamma is so stupid she thought 'Meow Mix' was a CD for Cats" and "yo mamma is so ugly her pillow cries at night". You think I'm kidding, but I heard him. Ok, it was 3 o'clock in the morning, but really he said that. I was up talking to this boy about why this other boy might be acting weird and the meaning of life and such and I heard this whispering coming from my living room. So I go to investigate.
Now this cat couldn't be any more Satanish if he was red and had horns instead of ears. Well there he is saying this stuff to my cats. My cats are so dumb though, they think he wants to befriend them. Yo mamma to the rescue.
I go over and shout "oh yeah, well yo mamma is so stupid she...she..." and then I gave up and tried squirting him with the water gun I use when my cats misbehave. Silly me though. Water doesn't deter SATAN. I should have filled that thing with ACID. Unfortunately, I don't keep acid on hand. So I settled for a pitcher of Iced Tea. And he started screaming "I'm mellllltttiiiiiingggg" and poof he was gone. Yeah, I made that part up. What really happened was a house fell on him. Or something. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go brush up on my "Yo Mamma" jokes.