Archive for April, 2005
Here is a list of modifications that I’m planning to make to my stock 2005 Acura TSX in order to improve my ability to navigate the treacherous highways of Southern California:
120mm smoothbore cannon, front left fender
50 caliber machine gun, front right fender
MLRS rocket launcher, roof of vehicle
Firefinder radar, trunk compartment
Integrated fire control system
Rear-facing missiles
I’m not surprised road rage is on the rise again in Los Angeles. We seem to go through cycles where drivers grow increasingly rude and aggressive until violence begins, then there’s a period of paranoid courtesy until fears fade into memory… Lather, rinse, repeat.
My brother is learning how to drive, so as we’re carpooling together to work and paying close attention to driving behavior. So many drivers are self-absorbed and have no idea when they screw over motorists around them. But they’re not as bad as deliberate jerks.
One of the most obscure conclusions we’ve made is: People who drive big black trucks and SUVs are flaming assholes. Don’t know if this is a local phenomenon or what. If you own one, I’m tempted to say maybe it’s everyone but you so that I don’t hurt your feelings… But guess what? It’s you, too.
I kid you not, eight times out of ten when we’re trying to change lanes and someone swoops up to prevent it, or when we’re trying to exit the carpool lane and nobody will let us out, or when we’re trying to take an offramp and someone cuts in front of us… It’s a black truck or SUV.
Maybe it has something to do with the psychological composition of people attracted to that kind of vehicle. After all, who knows better than a Marketing Girl that a person’s decision about which make, model, and color they buy are largely based on their sense of self.
Can anyone else back up our theory?
April 29th, 2005
Keith called me out for what might be the blog equivalent of a chain letter. He got it from Lisa, who got it from Sooz, whose directions state:
What follows is a list of different occupations. Select at least five of them. Add more to the list if you like, and then pass it on.
Of the five you selected, you are to finish each phrase with what you would do as a member of that profession. Then pass it on to three other bloggers.
When these show up in my e-mail I never send them on, but who knows if the cosmic consequences of breaking a blog chain might be real. Well, I’m not taking any chances, and since it looks like fun, here goes…
1. If I could be a pirate I’d sail the seven sees in search of bootie. Speaking of bootie, maybe I’d also get the opportunity to sidle up to Johnny Depp and ask for a few pointers. Yowza!
2. If I could be a scientist I’d have to find a way to make teleportation possible. Star Trek can’t have a monopoly on the coolest form of travel ever… It’s time to share it with the masses.
3. If I could be a mob boss I’d find a few ass-kicking gorgeous women, hire them to be my very own Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, and then proceed with my master plan to take over the world.
4. If I could be an artist I’d like to do make-up for the big stars in Hollywood. Not only would I get to know all their dirty little secrets, but I’d get to write off all my trips to Sephora. Muahaha!
5. If I could be a professional race car driver I’d drive the pink OB tampon car. Announcers could go to town with that one: “They’re three wide at turn two and the OB car squeezes in! She’s drafting so tightly, they could be attached by a string! Looks like the OB car is experiencing some engine trouble, she’s spraying fluid all over the track! Gutsy move by the OB car, if she spins out it could be bloody.”
Occupations to choose from:
If I could be a scientist…
If I could be a farmer…
If I could be a musician…
If I could be a doctor…
If I could be a painter…
If I could be a gardener…
If I could be a missionary…
If I could be a chef…
If I could be an architect…
If I could be a linguist…
If I could be a psychologist…
If I could be a librarian…
If I could be an athlete…
If I could be a lawyer…
If I could be an innkeeper…
If I could be a professor…
If I could be a writer…
If I could be a backup dancer…
If I could be a llama-rider…
If I could be a bonnie pirate…
If I could be a midget stripper…
If I could be a proctologist…
If I could be a TV-Chat Show host…
If I could be an actor…
If I could be a judge…
If I could be a Jedi…
If I could be a mob boss…
If I could be a personal trainer…
If I could be a professional race car driver…
If I could be a stand-up comedian…
If I could be an artist…
Tag! You’re it: Corinne, HeroineGirl, and Chaos-Girl
April 28th, 2005
Which Classic Pin-Up Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
I can’t resist any quiz with the words “Pin-Up” in the title. Take the quiz and let me know which bombshell you most resemble: Betty Grable, Marilyn Monroe, Lili St.Cyr, Brigitte Bardot, or Bettie Page.
By the way… Is it just me or is this week dragging serious ass? I hate the last week of the month, but not nearly as much as I hate the last week of the quarter. Is it Friday yet?!
April 27th, 2005
This Week: 10 Stupid Things You Did as a Kid
The only challenge here is going to be coming up with only ten stupid things I did as a kid. Believe me, there’s no shortage of material and therefore no need to repeat any of the stories I’ve already written. Don’t laugh too hard, it’ll hurt my feelings…
1. Nearly blinded myself. It was an enticing little bush with what I thought were pretty little red berries, which I proceeded to pick. Turns out they were scorching hot chilis… Found out when I rubbed my eye.
2. Dislocated a jaw. How was I supposed to know that when you unwind from a crouching position and deliver a Mortal Kombat style uppercut it’s at least ten times more effective than a straight punch. That stepbrother of mine totally deserved it.
3. Glued Snoopy to the wall. I was just so darn sick of those boring bologna and cheese sandwiches, so my gigantic stuffed Snoopy agreed to hide them behind his back. A week later mom was very upset.
4. Created a new sister. One hot Summer afternoon we were so bored that my brother agreed to let me dress him up… as a girl. I was so confident in my skills as a makeover artist that I tried to convince the kids on our block he was my long lost sister.
5. Appreciated Art. Art is Fine. That’s what I painted on the back of our playhouse. No, I wasn’t referring to Fine Arts, but my latest crush.
6. Opened a restaurant. Another fun play on words, I opened Le Bon Cafe in our back yard. Sure “bon” means good, but “Le Bon” means Duran Duran. The neighboorhood fat kid gave it five stars.
7. Freaked over fish. Auntie took me on a cruise and on the night it was our turn at the Captain’s table they served a salad with sliced anchovy garnish… I couldn’t stop screaming under the table.
8. Held it for three days. Dad took us camping on a long weekend and my stepbrother told me there were snakes in the pit toilets. I held it until I turned green and Dad had to take me down the mountain.
9. Got the sniffles. For some reason I used to get things stuck in my nostrils a lot as a kid, mostly stray beads. I’m sure the ER techs are surprised I didn’t end up a coke addict… it’s Diet Coke.
10. Experienced a TKO. In an effort to provide entertainment one night, my three-year-old younger brother and I staged a mock fight. Although I was twice his age, he hit me just right in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me, and I was down for the count.
So tell me… What did you do?
April 26th, 2005
You’re underpaid and overworked. Get back at “The Man” by taking some time out to mess around and play Guess the Google – A game where you beat the clock to come up with the correct search term based on a grid of twenty images.
I’m sure a monkey could beat my score…
April 25th, 2005
It must have been the Mongolian food we had Friday night, because although I’ve thumbed through a Victoria’s Secret catalog about a million times before, this time I noticed something… Different?
So I’m sitting there looking at this one picture thinking, “That’s cute with the blue lace on the pink satin” but then I noticed the most disgusting belly button ever. Hoping it was just this one model, I started flipping through the pages looking at the other photos…
When you consider how much digital editing they’re doing on these models already, can somebody tell me why they don’t paste up something slightly less freaky down there? I don’t think I’ll ever flip through a Victoria’s Secret catalog quite the same way again.
April 24th, 2005
I don’t think I’ve touched a paintbrush in the last ten years, apart from touch-ups around the house, but today I tried my hand at some virtual painting over at Art.com, thanks to a link from my buddy Silent.
What’s more, you can watch a flash movie to review your technique, or send a link along to friends. I contemplated making my parents really depressed (both have art degrees) by sending them my work.
There’s also a gallery where you can view works by other budding Picassos and psychoanalyze them according to their subjects and methods… Enjoy and Happy Friday!
April 22nd, 2005
After a few years of marriage I have yet to commit to the “comingling of funds” concept. We each still have the same checking accounts we were using before we tied the knot. Even the concept of adding eachother as joints never really came up.
But then there’s days like today, where nearly three thousand dollars in bills came due, and it would have been nice to have room to breathe.
The main reason we never combined assets was because my husband has another family, from years before we met. I suppose that changes the rules a bit. People have such horror stories about crazy exes, that I see the wisdom in keeping funds separate. For example…
Just for the sake of financial safety you have to keep one “safety net” account secret, because at any given time the mother of the children could freak out and lie to the District Attorney, claiming child support was in arrears. The DA would sieze all our liquid assets, pay the lady, and ask questions later.
Sound like a raw deal? It gets even better: They’ll arrest you, too.
Then magically, with no money left in the bank, you’re supposed to make bail, hire a lawyer, and put your case together to prove that you had paid in accordance with the legal agreement. Then, if you get that far, and the courts agree, you may get an apology… Nothing more.
Meanwhile, that angry lying ex has been partying it up in Vegas with her new cokehead boyfriend, spending everything you’ve got left after already paying child support. Nobody’s gonna help you get that money back either. And did I mention that you still have to pay as usual?
You can’t collect the money she owes you by deducting it, even in monthly installments, from subsequent child support payments… “The children would suffer.” But nobody cares about their suffering as she blows that child support on herself while the kids starve.
Let me tell you, after hearing stories like this from other men and women, I dropped the idea of blending our assets like a “normal” married couple. Life is scary enough as it is, you don’t need fiscal disaster looming over your head at all times.
Somehow this turned into another one of my rants, so while I’m at it: The child support and welfare systems in the state of California are a screaming joke! We’re supposed to be so liberal and progressive, yet we have some of the most antiquated family law on the books.
What was all that equal rights stuff all about with regard to women? From the looks of how they handle things in family court, you’d think it meant “I have a uterus and therefore I deserve it ALL and you can kiss my fat lazy ass” – because I’m not seeing any equality happening.
Nowhere does the law take into account all the biznitches out there having babies for a damn paycheck. Need a raise? Get knocked up again, and make sure your “baby-daddy” makes a fat grip. Tell him you’re on the pill… That one always works!
I swear to you, if I had been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I’d have gone to law school and I’d be fighting for true equality right now.
April 21st, 2005
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