Tuesday, June 30, 2009


I knew if I kept going to trivia long enough, they would eventually ask a question about The Office. AND TONIGHT...well, tonight was that night! It was a two-parter too, oh glorious fate! They were pretty easy though, I mean, those were designed for casual fans, and I am like a super fanatic, so I was actually hoping for something a little harder so we could catch up on some points, but whatevs. Bloggers can't be choosers. It was awesome because as soon as the dude said the words The Office, everyone just like looked right in my direction...PRESSURE! It was good to be known for something aside from being "you know, that fat white girl" though. Now, I am "you know, that fat white girl that's all gay for The Office." Ahhh, status.

Also, I finally bit the cheapskate bullet and bought a new camera, hooray! TJ sent me her old one, but I think the postal service broke it en route because it wouldn't work even with brand new batteries! NEW BATTERIES, people. I'm notorious for mixing and matching whatever oldass batteries I can find around the house. One from the remote, one from the cat's laser pointer, one from the vibrator, one from Guitar Hero...we all share weak batteries in this house. But these were brand spankin' new, so I knew something was wrong. I thank you, Teej, for sending it. You are a true blue pal. Sorry USPS.com sucks and broke it. :(

But hey, I got a shiny new one. It's a Canon something something. It's not the best one in the world, but I'm pretty broke, so I deal. I saw it when I went to Costco last night and it said it was the last one, a display unit, so it was on sale. And I kept getting this nagging feeling to just buy it, but I dunno, I have a hard time spending a big chunk of money on myself. Modern day Mother Teresa, remember? Anyway, I spent all day today trying to get someone in electronics to pick up the phone because somewhere around 7:40 am, I was like "I'M GONNA GET IT!" But I was worried, with it being the LAST display model and all, that it could be gone.

So I finally get a dude to pick up and he makes me talk to the manager and the manager very begrudgingly decides to put it on hold for me so I am all psyched all day like HELL YEAH I'M GETTING A DEAL! Then I get there and I go to "the cage" (rawr) and give the dude the item number and he goes in there to get it for me. Then I was like "is that the right one? The tag said it was a display model." So he checks and he's like "yeah, matches the model number. We got like 20 back there, so you can have the box." Those fuckers! Can't believe I fell for the oldest sales trick in the book. The ol' THIS IS THE LAST ONE trick. I feel hoodwinked, but still happy to have this shiny box of camera fillings so I just go with the happiness.

I hope I didn't get ripped off, but I'm letting it go! I got a camera, I paid the rent, we're good. Let.it.go.

So yeah, the battery's charging. Yay, camera!

Alright, it's late. I'm gonna go wash the second-hand smoke from my hair and get some snoozers. Have a good Wednesday!

Monday, June 29, 2009


OMG...kill me.

I can't take this heat anymore!

108 today. Which on the surface may not seem so bad. But by the time you factor in my hotass baking-in-the-sun-all-day car with no A/C, plus a trip to hot hot crowded with hot assholes Costco, what you end up with is one super hot pissed off Tricia. My hair's all sweaty and gross and my rolls are all buttered up with sweat and even my Bare Minerals melted off.

Then I get home and guess who is still asleep? Snuggled up in the comforter with two fans blowing on him. "DUDE...GET UP! It's 6:00! FUCK!" You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

I know he works late and I shouldn't be such a bitch. But like, I worked all day, then went shopping, then loaded the heavy ass shit up by myself, and I get home and he's been sleeping for 14 hours. FOURTEEN! Tends to make me irritable.

I dunno, maybe I'm just being whiny, but that's what summers do to me! My body can't deal with these extreme temps and all rationale goes out the window once the thermometer hits 100. Then I'm supposed to cook AND work out? Piss on that.

Alright, I'm over it. WAIT, I'm not. So like in the parking lot at Costco, this dude was going around getting the carts and shit. So this lady was trying to load up a box of detergent into her SUV and he comes running over all like "lemme help you with that!" So I put everything in the car already, but I always have a really hard time with the kitty litter. It's 40 pounds and I am a weakling! Like, just cause I'm fat doesn't mean I'm strong. I can be fat and dainty...I am dainty as shit! Anyway, he starts walking my way and I'm sure that he can see my obvious struggle but he just strolls right on by. UGH!

And we made eye contact! So it's not like he didn't see me. Just pisses me off. I'm gonna start a new campaign called "Help a Fattie In Need...We Won't Eat You!" Stupid kitty litter. Stupid cat. Stupid Las Vegas. STUPID COSTCO.

STUPID stupid stupid stupid!

This is shitty, tomorrow will be better.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

All dying must cease at once.

It's a good time to not be a celebrity as they seem to be dropping like flies lately. I've been scared to leave my house! But then I remembered I'm not a celebrity so I went out to buy some popsicles.
That thumb is pointing up to heaven. HE KNEW!

If I had to take a guess as to who killed him, I would guess Vince. I was watching some thing on Entertainment Tonight (I think...though maybe it was a dream) where they were having an informercial-spokesperson face-off and Billy really creamed the guy. He mopped the floor with him like he was a...(wait for it)...ShamWOW. This is no doubt a crime of passion. If you wanna be number one, you do what it takes. Either way, it's a sad day for infomercial lovers like me. Sleep well, sweet prince.

"You're gonna love my nuts!"

VH1 Classic's been showing Michael Jackson videos nonstop for the past 48 hours and I've spent a lof of time remembering how great they were and how the world used to stop for an MJ video premiere. I've also been thinking how much new music sucks. I seriously can't imagine most of the shit we listen to today to ever be considered "classic." Songs about titties and tennis shoes and shit. Surely nothing to raise your Bic in the air for. I'll just shut up now before I have to start shaking my cane in the air in disgust.

Tomorrow begins phase one of restructuring my life. Several things need to be restructured.

1. Diet

2. Exercise

3. Cleaning-the-house routine/finish unpacking

4. Limiting my internet time to one hour per nite

5. Go to sleep at a godly hour

6. Stop wasting so much money on bullshit.

I figure I am giving myself a year to get all this shit in order. A year is a long time. But it can also be wasted and fly by like nothing. Every year of my life has passed by so far with little to no change from the year before and every year I get a little more bitter and tiny bit more hopeless. Since it seems that I'm only getting older and fatter, may as well start working on it now. Plus, I'm tired of my leg hurting and never having any money. And I'm sick of these fucking boxes everywhere. I need to de-junkify my life.

So I'm going grocery shopping after work tomorrow and only buying the ESSENTIALS. I hope this works. Wait, this will work. I can make it work. I am adapting the can-do attitude of Billy Mays. This will work, or my money back.

Friday, June 26, 2009

You know you had one sparkley glove.

I'm gonna do the cliche thing here and weigh in on this Michael Jackson business. I'm sad. Like, to a surprising degree. I'm not one to usually get all emotional about a celebrity. The only celebrity I can remember openly weeping for was Chris Farley (still pisses me off!) It's weird when someone famous dies because it's not like you know them, but they're still a part of your life to some degree. I was pretty fanatical about MJ during my elementary school days, and I never lost respect for his talent or his music.

I guess in some ways I feel sad because I always thought his life was a little sad. Maybe it's weird but I kinda viewed him in the same way that you think of a young child with a terminal illness. Like, it's just sad that they never had a chance to live a normal life. He went all crazy every now and then but his life was always such a fucking circus, like, what normal person could come from that? All I know is that he had some kick-ass tunes and he was a fucking legend.

And as far as legends go, there aren't that many left, so it's worse to see one go at a pretty young age. I will be sad when Prince dies. Little purple coffin. That will ruin my day. I will be close to inconsolable when Aretha Franklin dies. She is a bad-ass bitch and my big fat hero. Seriously, love. I know there are others still worthy of admiration, but these are the ones for me.

I think another thing that's weird about Michael Jackson dying is that it was from cardiac arrest. He was always so child-like. I dunno, some part of me fully expected him to die like in a tragic ferris wheel accident or like from falling off a trampoline or something. Heart attacks are for old people, not legendary childlike sprights. Jeff said he's sure it's drug-related. He also said it was weird that David Carradine died from auto-erotic asphyxiation and MJ died from a heart attack and that the universe got it backwards. I told him to go away and let me watch Billie Jean in peace.

I guess the only thing that matters now is that those songs will live forever. No matter what he did or didn't do in life, you can't deny his music is fun and awesome. Plus, in the immortal words of Dave Chappelle, "He made Thriller, man...THRILLER!" And as his final act, he did something no one has done for as long as I can remember. He made MTV play actual music videos during prime time on a Thursday night. R.I.P dude.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

If you like smoothies and you like free...

Jamba Juice has Buy-One-Get-One smoothies until July 12th. I know they have some pretty good low-fat ones, and it's summer, so...I'm down. Just thought I'd pass along the savings.

Click here to print out the coupon.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Haters keep hatin'...

It's hard to have a good day when your boss calls you in her office to talk about your FIVES. Yeah, like, the way I write my #5s...she don't like it. So now I gotta try to write them different. Even though I'm writing them on a report that I have to TYPE anyway. Grrr. This kinda shit makes me wish for the thrill and excitement of a TPS report.

I mean, there's only ten numbers, and I write numbers all day long, so even having to re-learn 1/10 of them is a giant pain in the ass. And furthermore, I ask you, who gives a fuck?

The day started oddly enough with tacos. Frances brought them in for everyone. She walks by and puts 2 tacos and 2 little sauce packets on my desk and smiles and says "I brought breakfast!" So sweet. So secretly evil disguised as trying-to-be-nice sweet. First off, I can't eat tacos for breakfast, I will die. I will be dead. She's in her 50s so why is SHE even eating tacos for breakfast? I don't get these people.

I didn't wanna seem rude so I took them to the lunchroom with me on my break and found some courier dudes who gladly ate them. Whew.

Also, I guess I'm not going on my FREECATION. Bleh. I assumed everyone knew I don't have my car on the weekends so when they told me to call and get the room, I also assumed someone would be giving me a ride. Turns out no one has room in their car for me because everyone and their distant third cousin got in on this free offer. Plus, everyone's going with like their husbands and shit and I hate being the third wheel...or like...87th wheel. Whatever. I only spent the first 25 years of my life being that annoying tagalong, so no thanks. It really only bothers me because my inner cheapskate is pissed at me. She'll get over it too.

When I got home and came online and saw this:

What the eff? This is wrong for several reasons. First of all, WHO WAS USING MY COMPUTER?? Despite what you may think about me, I would not GOOGLE hardcore pornography. That's far too general of a term, plus I got bookmarks for that kinda shit, you know? Jeff has his own computer and the only other person who was at my house today is his mom so I am fucking perplexed. On one hand, maybe I did it and don't remember, which would be bad. But on the other hand, maybe his mom comes to our house to masturbate, which would be worse. LOSE/Lose.

This has been a weird day.

Anyway, here's my daily high five, as promised:
1. I had an awesome nap after work!
2. TJ said I could have her old camera, SWEET!
3. My new shirts came from Zaftique*...ah, clearance <3
4. Jeff found my iPod cord today...finally new tunes!
5. Jack Sh*t wrote me a poem without even having to lose a half pound like the rest of you suckers! Wanna read it? Of course you do, that goes without saying:
There once was a blogger named Tricia,
Who thought all fried-up food was delicia.
Then she decided to own up,
And act like a grown-up
At least that’s what I’m gonna wish-ia.

It's clearly a love sonnet. Bagged another one, what can I say? I'll try to let him down easy, guys. Have fun losing that half pound, dudez!

That's it for now. Hey tomorrow, be better! Tired of these days bossin' me around.

*I know most people who read this blog aren't as fat as me, but IF you are of a comparable size, I would suggest checking this store out. Sign up for their emails and they'll let you know when they have a clearance sale and if you act FAST, you can get good work-type shirts for like 3-4 bucks. Plus, they're cut with a true fattie in mind because they like to accentuate the tits, even for smallbies like mine, so it's a good thing. Normally they're way overpriced though, well for me because I am cheap. K bye!

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Straight Up Gangsta.

I may have neglected to mention that on the night I had my "heart episode", we went out for like an all-you-can-eat fried catfish dinner. With fries. And hush puppies. And a salad bar that I didn't even walk up to. So it really was no shock to me to be feeling super shitty after a meal like that. But I still wonder...like, why did I do it? Aside from the obvious answer of pure deliciousness, why would I think it's worth the pain? I'm not even talking emotional pain here, I'm talking like "ow my heart ow my stomach" pain, you know?

Then earlier I was talking to my brother today about how I lost my camera/begging for a new one and he's all "hey, remember when we used to steal?" Ugh, I remember! I'm not talking about like a piece of candy here, I mean...we used to freaking steal. A lot. We had quite a little racket going between him, my sister-in-law, me and my niece.

My brother and my neice would go into Target and steal a few boxes of those overpriced Isotoner gloves (the OJ gloves!) Then they'd come out to the car, and we'd drive to another Target. Then me and my sister-in-law would take the gloves in for an exchange. So we'd use the store credit to buy all the big shit my brother couldn't stuff down his pants...like...a freaking Christmas tree! And ornaments. And all the other various Christmas stuff we didn't have. My mom was in the hospital and we just wanted to make it nice for her so I didn't think what we were doing was all that evil.

BUT...thinking back on it, I'm like JESUS CHRIST I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH WE USED TO STEAL. I mean, we grew up poor. Well, we're still poor, but I couldn't imagine stealing ANYTHING these days. Plus I'm overly paranoid about it. Like if I open a soda in a store, I make a big deal about taping the reciept to the bottle so there's no one like "HEY! I recognize that girl! She's that fat little theif from the Great Glove Caper of 1989! GET HER, GUYS!"

Oh lordy. Still get kinda queasy to my stomach thinking about doing that sneaky shit.

But you know, I GREW UP. I learned that stealing is wrong and that it's just not worth going to jail or losing my job or whatever else just for like...a new camera (swoon.) I would never even dream of it these days.

Here comes the point of this post...I need to grow the fuck up about food! I had my fried fun! It's time to grow up and realize that eating a plate full of fat and grease isn't worth the consequences. Yes, I want to eat junk, but I'm old enough now to know that it's not fucking worth it.

I wonder why I was so effectively able to learn to say no to stealing, because, believe me, I HATE PAYING FOR THINGS, but I just do it. Because I HAVE to. So now I need that same switch in my head to go off and tell me that I HAVE to eat better. Hurry up, you stupid switch!

That being said, I did eat pretty well today. The only tiny baby slipup was one pineapple LifeSaver because I was falling asleep at work. But that ain't no thang.

Here's today's HIGH FIVE!
1. Goin' to trivia!
2. Jeff found the spare set of keys...YES!
3. Good eats.
4. Frozen yogurt!
5. Talking to my brother always fills me with LOLz.

See ya tomorrow!

P.S. Don't judge my stealing ways! I was young and impressionable and I just wanted to have a nice Christmas for my poor sick mommy and and and...I really wanted that Jem Doll.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Sheep go to heaven, goats go to hell...

This blog has been a real downer lately! To rectify this, I'm gonna list 5 good things about every day, no matter how trivial.

#1: Watermelon...and lots of it!
#2: The day went by pretty fast.
#3: My boss didn't fuck with me about missing work Friday.
#4: Big ol' tub-o-raspberries only $2.53 at Sam's.
#5: I got in the car and there was still gas left in it unlike every Monday morning of my life thus far.

Alright, now that that happy-go-lucky shit is outta the way, I get free reign to bitch about something. I LOST MY CAMERA! OH ETERNAL SADNESS! Where could it be? This blog is nothing without my candid shots of boring things so I really need to either find it or get a new one. You got an old one? Send it to me! If you see a good deal on a decent one, let me know. I mean, like, a REAL good deal...cause brokeness is upon me. I was all jazzed to take pics of my drunk coworkers this weekend on my FREECATION, but alas, there shall be none. We suffer together.
Tony the all-nite Pony tagged me to do this survey, but I decided to make it into a picture survey because I am a nerdy overacheiver. Here we goooo...
1. What is your current obsession?

2. What are you wearing today?
3. What’s for dinner?

4. What’s the last thing you bought?

5. What are you listening to right now?
6. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?

7. Which language do you want to learn?

8. What do you love most about where you currently live?
9. What is your favourite colour?
10. What is your favorite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe?

11. Describe your personal style?
12. If you had $300 now, what would you spend it on?

13. What are you going to do after this?
14. What are your favourite films?

15. Your favourite smell? 16. What makes you follow a blog?
17. Do you like to comment on blogs or just lurk?

18. What’s one thing you dream of doing?

19. What is your biggest regret?
20. If you had one day left to live, what kind of buffet would you go to?

21. If you could spent a romantic night with any celebrity without any repercussions, who would you spend that wonderful night with?

That was fairly exhausting. I'm outta here!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Cat in the Cradle.

It's safe to say I have a love/hate relationship with my dad. I did send him a card with a check and some deodorant he can't seem to find lately in town (weird, I know.) I called and did the whole Happy Father's Day routine with him. He knows I love him...as long as I'm far far away. In person my dad is a real miserable guy to be around. Some of the darkest times in my life were spent in a locked room with him telling me what a terrible fat useless person I was through a crack in the door while I cried like a maniac.

I have every right to hate him given the circumstances, but I guess for the most part, I don't. I do hate the way he treated my mom like shit her whole life and now gets to play the whole poor sad widower part like he lost the great love of his life. The truth is that my mom pulled a fast one by dying first and leaving him to fend for himself for the first time in his life. It's not something easy to learn in your 70s. So I fluctuate between these feelings of "I'm sorry you have to go through this" and "KARMA IS A BITCH!" I dunno. It's hard to keep the peace sometimes when I listen to him go off on his "woe is me" tangents. He lived his whole life treating us like shit, and now he questions even the slightest hint of animosity against him. There's major denial, that's all I'll say.

I still do my best to call him every other day even though he mostly talks about the same five subjects:
-how much my sisters disrespect him
-how he's tired of my sister-in-law decorating the house
-how much money he still owes on that truck he can't afford
-how much he misses me being around to "aggravate" (read: torture)
-how he's sick of these mexicans taking over every goddamn thing...sigh.

Anytime I start to feel sorry for my dad, I remember the time my mom was crying in the bathroom and I walked in to see what was wrong. I was seven years old and she said to me "I wish I could just die to get away from HIM." That one sentence pretty much fucked with me my entire life. It's like a Get Out of Guilt Free Card.

Oh well, Happy Father's Day and whatnot. If you're a dad, be nice to your kids. One day you'll be an old jerk and you'll need someone to buy you out-of-stock deodorant and not everyone's as nice as me. SO yeah.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Shitty way to spend a weekend.

I just came back from an Urgent Care Clinic.

I've been having this weird anxious feeling in my chest for like the last 12 hours and it won't go away.

I started to panic so I thought it would be best to have it checked out. They did an EKG but it came back normal. My blood pressure and blood sugar were okay too, not great, but not terrible either.

The doctor kept asking me if I was depressed or having suicidal thoughts. Maybe he was just screening before he prescribed some anti-anxiety pill for me, but it's still weird to have someone ask you that kinda stuff so persistantly. My answers were just like "not a lot." I assume most people get down from time to time. Being a constant social outcast definitely adds a little more to the mix, but I think for the mostpart I don't dwell too much on the negative.

It bothers me that I'm 31 and I've had 5 EKGs in my lifetime. All within the past two years. It bothers me that I have every warning sign and I take a shot and 6 pills a day and I'm totally aware of what I'm doing to myself yet I still do it. It bothers me that I'm not in control of my bad habits by this point knowing full well what the consequences are.

I wonder how many other people my age are up at 3am researching the symptons of a heart attack and wondering if it's worth the dramatic scene of calling 911 or if it's just really bad heartburn. I would bet not many. It's so frustrating. I judge myself the same way I would judge a crack addict knowingly killing themselves with no regards to their friends and family. That's essentially what I'm doing.

The doctor asks what causes my depression and the only thing I can think to say is disappointment. I'm disappointed that I let this become my life. At such a young age too. I don't have kids or a husband or a mortgage or a degree, but I do have diabetes and heart problems. That sucks.

He prescribed me Xanax and told me not to take them often and to try to get a good night's sleep. So I guess I'll go try to do that.

I know it's not too late for me to get myself out of this mess.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Come for the heat, stay for the smoke.

One of the coolest things about living in Nevada is that every now and then you come across a real heckofaDEAL because the casinos are getting desperate. Obviously this economic climate is full of suffering so casinos are really grasping at straws to get people to come gamble. So we came across this deal at work today:

All you need is a Nevada ID and like, holy shit, I have one of those, so I was all over this. You guys already know my history with loving FREE stuff. The problem is that I'm not really a gambler so I come out like a bandit from this deal but the hotel gets nothing in return except for my big body taking up one of their rooms for 2 nights. I'm really only doing it because I wanna go outlet shopping.
I'm not good at gambling and I'm too much of a tightass to be wasting my money on the world's most boring sport. I'm that asshole that goes to a casino with like $20 in my pocket and 4 seconds later it's gone and I'm like "I'M BORED LETS GO TO THE BUFFET." The only time I gamble is when someone else gives me some free money. I have no problem wasting other people's moneys. Most of the time I just walk around the casino and pocket the money and come back 30 minutes later and say I lost it. This always works.
What was I getting at here? Oh yeah. So like, about six of us from work all called in for this free deal so we're supposed to make it like a group thing. The "PARTY" mentality is always something that makes me way overeat. And to be honest, I've been eating like crap ever since my vacation and that was like 2 weeks ago. I really have to like, not let this little getaway get used as an excuse to put off dieting for yet another week.
That's like 3 coupons for buffets. And I don't even like buffets! I gotta learn to say no to free sometimes.
I'll try to at least say no to 2 out of those 3 buffet offerings. And any Meatloaf fan knows that that ain't bad.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I'm inter-EST-ing, the best thing since wrestling

Hey, it's Dina. Yeah, that's right. Through the magic of guest blogging, I get to post shit, right on Tricia's blog! Seeing as how I can't even think of shit to post on my OWN blog, this probably isn't the best idea. But hey, the possibilities could be endless. At the moment I can't think of Jack Shit (GET IT??? I sayeedddd Jack Shit!) to do with my new found power, but give it time to simmer a bit, and I'll come up with something.

One point I would like to address, is her screenshots of our chats. They're kind of B.S. really, when you get right down to it. She seems to go out of her way to pick ones that portray me in a less than flattering light (which I can do just fine on my own, thank you very much). If I was an asshole I could skim through them, and post the ones where she is all "BRB, gotta poop", but I'm nicer than that.

We're getting a new server at work. This means the internet is all fine and dandy, but the database won't work. It's like fate that I have to blog. They brought me in the room to test out our database, and the uber nerds that installed the server were in there. I said, "Is today the 17th?" so I could run a sample report, and the head nerd was like "Yep, all day long!", then proceeded to laugh at his own joke for the next twenty minutes. Dude was whack.

Peace out my pretties.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Put your money where your mouth is.

When the good people of POM contacted me to try their fancy devil juice, I said okay because I can't say no to anything free (try me!) Normally, juice is not something I would spend money on because I'm one of those assholes who's always like "JUST DRINK WATER - IT'S GOOD FOR YOU!" Jeff goes through like a gallon of cranberry juice a nite, so I don't really need to be adding to the beverage bill in this house if we still wanna have luxuries like gas and power.

That being said, even hardcore water addicts like me need a little switcheroo SOMETIMES. So I tried to make some fancy POM cocktails and I had visions of showing up here to blog with calorie counts and nutritional info, but alas, the vodka just forced out a post about my failing relationship and I woke up the next day with a horsehead in my bed. OKAY POM PEOPLE, I'm on it. Chillax.
FIRST...there was the Rosey POMer. So named because of the rosy color and also because it made me want to masturbate. Mix Vodka, Perrier, POM, and some barely legal porn. Stick a lemon wedge in there if you have it because we don't wanna look like some white trash juke joint in here. Nothing is too fancy for my free juice. This is prolly like...14 calories or something. Have ten and then pour your heart out on blogger. This should yield you a lot of comments as people love reading about misery.

Next up, we got the POM Collins. Not to be confused with a Tom Collins, because those are gross. You may be looking at this picture and saying "Whoa, two kinds of juices, what am I, made of money?" Silly. I live in Las Vegas. All I have to do is sit at a slot machine and wait for an old lady to walk by in a feathery outfit and ask me what I want. "ONE PINEAPPLE JUICE PLEASE!" You even get it in a fancy single-serve can shown here. Though for the record, that can was actually two servings. Mix in a shot of Vodka and the ever important POM juice, and you've got a party in your mouth (and everyone's cumming! GET IT??) 7 calories. Drink seven...1 point.
Sunday morning, I was obviously feeling shitty. Also, I only have one fancy glass, and I forgot to wash it so I just decided to mix up some POM tea. Make some tea, pour in some POM, and then drink it. This glass was also free because I stole it from Sam's Town the night of my office Christmas party.
So each bottle of POM is only 150 cals, and I made 5 drinks per bottle. So...that's like...math. I would probably buy some if I wanted to spend another weekend drinking myself into a deep depression, but thanks to THE AWESOME POM CORPORATION, I still have 6 unopened bottles to go. This whole adventure only cost 79cents for the perrier and 13 cents for the lemon.

So...yeah...POM...get some. I got like 20 comments that night and you guys know you want some of that action. GET SOME!

Also, I would like to end on this note because it's been cracking me up for like an hour:


Friday, June 12, 2009

Let your freak flag fly!

Have you guys seen the new Simpsons stamps? SO AWESOME. God, how I love them.
I finally got around to picking up a book of them when I went to the post office last week and I've been dying to USE THEM. I still have Fight Fat Phobia stickers up for grabs, people! You know you need this in your life! Email me if you want one. (fight.fat.phobia@gmail.com)

Of course, probably no one will want me mailing stuff to them now that Dina outted me as a butt plug sender, but what she didn't tell you guys is that she begged me to send that thing. I am a pleaser. A woman of the people. I only wanna put a smile in the heart of every freak I know. Like a modern-day Mother Teresa, only not really like that at all. You know? I know you guys understand.

HEY...somewhere along the way I crept above 100 followers. That is awesome! It boggles the mind, seriously. A few months ago I said to myself that I would do a giveaway when I reached 100 followers so it looks like that will be happening soon. I don't really know what to give away though. I'm looking for a theme. I was thinking like a Pamper Yourself Package or something...I dunno. Gimme some time to make this awesome, then we'll go from there.

You guys have any tips? Like, if you were gonna win something, what would you want? Don't say money. Or a car. Think frugal!

Since I have made it my purpose in life to be more like Jack Sh*t, I wanted to mention that I ALSO was contacted by a nice lady at POM who sent me a case of FREE pomegranate juice. I love free, and I love juice, so this was a match made in heaven. I'm planning on mixing up some fancy POM cocktails this weekend and getting crunk alone in my apartment like a REAL WINNER! We have accumulated a variety of booze in the apartment from people who come to visit me and think they need to buy gallons of alcohol because they're in VEGAS BABY, then they take like 4 shots and leave the bottle at my house. So...I'll post some slurred reviews at some point this weekend if time allows. No one reads these blogs on the weekends anyway so it won't be so bad if I make a drunken admission to some sin long forgotten or something. FREEDOM!

Oh yeah, speaking of Vegas, I forced Jeff to take me to see The Hangover last night after work. SO GREAT! We laughed, we cried, and I think maybe, JUST MAYBE, we both learned a little something about life. I saw Zack Galifinakis' penis. Honk honk! That guy is so underrated, and so is his wang. When we left, we were walking through the casino to get to the parking lot, and Jeff's all "man, I wish I had a nice cock like Galifinakis." Dude. Definitely in the Top 5 of the gayest things that have ever come out of his mouth. The other top four being actual dicks. I was like "Look, you can't SAY stuff like that! You're supposed to by my heterosexual boyfriend, REMEMBER?" and he's all "I just said it was nice, I didn't say I wanted it in me." Totally reassuring, forreal.

What's with all the penis envy lately anyway? Geez. Embrace your schlong, dudes. My sister-in-law's stepdad recently found out he has cancer like IN his dick. We're not talking like Lance Armstrong cut-off-a-ball-become-a-hero-cancer, but like actual cancer of the dick. So they had to cut out a chunk of it. So...I dunno, be glad you have a whole one, I guess. And if you don't...that sucks, dude. You feel free to bitch because you deserve it, fella.
This is a weird ass random entry, so I'll just stop here. Have a good weekend!

Friday, June 5, 2009

I do love a big package.

For those of you that ain't in the KNOW, there's a little something goins on called BLOG EXCHANGE. Jessi organized it and a few of us bloggers (the cool ones, obv.) got together and mailed shit to each other just for FUN. You remember fun, right? It's that thing you used to have before you had a mortgage and child support payments.

Well, I got my box today! Hoorah! I still haven't mailed mines out because I thought I would maybe find some cool stuff in San Fran to send along, but that was mostly a bust. Oh well, patience is a virtue and virtues are good for the soul. And since I got Dina...well, enough said.

Anywho, my package was AWESOME! I got so much stuff! Cool cool stuff that made me giggle with elation, YES, elation. At first I was a little concerned that she would try to mail me a box full of Jehova's Witness propaganda but luckily, I think she forgot. I took some pictures...you guys wanna see? COOL LOOK BELOW PLEASE THANKS...

First of all, I saw the box and was worried because when it comes to FARTS,
there is no room at the Inn, you know?
In case you are wondering how many farts can fit in a box that size, the answer is clearly six.

There was literally a shit-ton of cards in the box that tricked me into thinking it was farts. I love cards, so I was down. They are funny and awesome and a couple of lame sappy ones in case someone's dog dies, which, as it turns out, you're supposed to send cards for now.

This little fella that Dina said looked like my brother, and for the record, I would have to agree.

BOOK SAFE! + Booklights + Air fresheners + Awesome bottle + Giant paper clips!

Dolls! Lots of awesome dolls for me to put on my desk at work and have them tell me to take home. When will they learn that my desk IS my home? Dumbs.

Dina says that thing looks like me, but clearly her bangs are better. Plus, my half of the BFF KEYCHAIN! Finally, redemption for a lonely tweenhood!

A year's supply of lotion for my ashy elbows and HOORAY BURTS BEES!

Magnetic balls (heh), Books (lame...stop trying to force me to read.),
a cool purse thingy, and more lotion.
I gotta say thanks to Dina for all this great stuff and your stuff will be there soon enough so LAY OFF, MAN!
I can't wait to see what everyone else gets!
San Fran pics coming later...Stay Tuuuuuned.