Aliens Among Us

There's a new dancer working during my shift at The Boobie Barn and she's freaking me out. There is something a little bit off about her, something not quite right. Don't laugh, but I'm kind of thinking that she might be an alien in a human body. Okay, okay, I know that statement sounds pretty crazy, but I have my reasons. Plus I know a thing or two about invaders from outer space. Remember that time I was abducted by Scientologists?

First of all, here's a picture of her.





Creepy looking, huh? And get this, she calls herself Paris and that's not just her stripper name, it's her real name too. I could almost dismiss her as just another Marilyn Manson lookalike, but for the fact that I have just finished reading an article in The Weekly World News about a reptilian-type race of aliens who have recently infiltrated Earth. Apparently they want to learn our ways so they can conquer and enslave us. People, we can't let this happen! The article helpfully listed eight surefire ways to spot an alien. It's uncanny how this Paris chick fits all of them. Check it out:


1. Aliens often wear huge sunglasses to hide their freakish eyes. Paris wears sunglasses so big you could confuse her with a dragonfly. It almost looks like the plastic is attacking her head. If she isn't wearing her sunglasses, then she wears these strange blue colored contacts. She's definitely hiding something.



2. Aliens are obsessed with technology. They spend hours chatting on cell phones and sending e-mails. But they're not conversing with people -- they're actually transmitting data they've accumulated back to their home worlds. Yep, this bitch lives on the phone, but she never says much besides, "That's hawt." No one would actually have a conversation that boring for hours and hours, would they? Although I do often wonder what the hell people are jabbering on their phones about when they should be driving.



3. Aliens dress in oddly revealing clothes. Aliens find clothing irritates their flesh, so the less of it they wear, the more comfortable they are. They also like to keep their fake human skin exposed to air, to allow it to breathe. Well, this one is harder to prove since none of us at The Boobie Barn wear much clothing, but at least the rest of us wear panties once in a while. Paris never does.




See what I mean?



4. Constant questioning about customs of co-workers. Space aliens who are trying to learn about earth culture might ask questions that seem stupid, Easton said. "For example, a co-worker may ask why so many Americans picnic on the Fourth of July," noted Steiger. Just the other day she asked me if Wal-Mart sold walls. I mean, come on, who is that stupid? It really made me suspicious.



5. Aliens have strange bodily proportions. The newest breeds of aliens attempt to imitate human appearance -- but they never quite get it right. They are like exaggerated ideas of human perfection. Their stomachs are too flat, their chests too big, their faces wrinkle-free. You should see her amazingly big hands and feet! Almost like they should belong to a man. I bet those aliens got their body parts mixed up when designed her human suit.


6. They smell. Aliens use all manner of deodorants, perfumes, or lotions to disguise their natural scent, which is offensive to humans. Well she doesn't smell bad, mostly like cheap cologne, but I've noticed that after she gives a lap dance the customers are covered in a sticky alien goo. They don't seem to mind too much, though. They are even happy to hand over sperm samples to her, but then again Boobie Barn customers are always trying to give away their semen, so I guess that's not overly questionable.


7. Aliens do not understand Earth's sense of humor. Forget what you saw on Mork and Mindy. Aliens find it difficult to understand laughter -- even a simple knock-knock joke can throw them completely off. They might laugh at inappropriate times -- like during a funeral -- or stare blankly at the funniest jokes. She never, ever laughs at my jokes!......Well, okay, no one else does either. Scratch that one.



8. Aliens practice mind control. This one has got to be true. This chick cannot dance, or sing, or do anything the slightest bit entertaining, yet she makes more money than all of us girls combined and has a ton of fans. Alien mind control is the only thing that can possibly explain her popularity. I mean, can you explain it?





This paper tells the truth! You can learn a lot from it. I can't wait to vote for Hillary and Bigfoot. If anyone can save Earth from these evil, soul-sucking extraterrestrials, it's going to be them!


HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Visible

So, I guess I haven't posted very much lately. I don't really have any good reason for not posting. It's certainly not because I've been too busy with my fabulous and fascinating life. Don't I wish! No, I've actually been behaving myself pretty well lately, doing my yoga, following my raw vegan diet without too much cheating, reading a lot of books, and trying not to spend money.

God, I'm dull!

See why I haven't posted? I'm even boring Tucksworth. That monkey no longer bothers to scream and fling poo like he used to whenever I would turn on my Wilco CDs and assume the Lotus position. Instead he just shrugs and goes back to terrorizing the cat.

But now it's 4:30 A.M. on a Saturday night (technically Sunday morning I suppose) and I feel like posting something, dammit! But what?

I was considering writing about the time I met Fabio, but that's kind of a dull story. He just shook my hand, and couldn't have been nicer. (He is, however, even more amazingly cheesy looking up close than you'd imagine.)



You can't believe it's not butter, can you?


I was just about to give up when I remembered Bottle Blonde's excellent post on blogging 101. If you've never been to her blog, please check it out. She's one funny chick, and gorgeous as well. Anyway, she urges everyone to post pictures of themselves and I agree with her. I don't know about you, but whenever I start reading a person's blog, I find myself wondering what they look like. I've kind of developed a mental picture of each of the bloggers that I read regularly, although I'm sure it's completely wrong.

I've been a bit shy about posting pictures of myself, but what the hell? It's not like I have to worry about being dooced. So without further ado, I present you with some dorky pics.




Take the friggin picture already!



Here I am at a family function, completely sober. I can tell I'm sober because I'm smiling my fake smile and looking oh so enthused. Plus, I remember being uncomfortable because I was wearing an ugly dress and barely any makeup. My mom has a cow about dressing appropriately for these types of things. She seems to think that if I'm dressed like a lady, I'll behave like one. As if! You would think she'd know better by now.




Just add alcohol and weeeee!


What a difference two hours and three glasses of wine make! Whenever I drink, I start getting a Paris Hilton wonk eye. Seriously, one of my eyes (usually the left) will bunch up into a squint like a pirate or something. Argggh, matey! It doesn't take much alcohol to get it started either. Two drinks and the eyelid begins its slide. I can usually feel it happening, but by that point I don't care. So many of my pictures have been ruined by that dopey squint.






My hippie hair, ass, and the hideous lamp that my mom just bought.


I took this pic because I was so happy to finally be able to fit into these jeans again that I had to document it. I've never had a weight problem, but these jeans were definitely getting too tight and I was developing a muffin top, much to my chagrin.

In case you've never heard that term, here's the definition:

Muffin Top- The roll of fat that hangs over the top of too-tight, low rise jeans.


Now thanks to the mostly raw vegan diet and some ADD drugs, not only do the jeans fit again, they are even slightly loose. Yay!

If I had good photoshop skills I would caption that picture like one of the LOLZ Cats. I would make it say I CAN'T HAZ CHEEZBURGER! I'Z VEGAN! If somebody wants to do that for me, it would make me laugh. Those damn cats are hilarious.


And finally, I do have a photo of my rack if you want to see it. I took it when I was trying to get a good shot to send to Ms. Smack's "Guess the Blogger's Breasts" challenge. I think it's a pretty demure picture, but my nipple did pop up so I guess that makes it NSFW. I have thoughtfully hidden it just in case you don't want to see, but why wouldn't you? I know I enjoy looking at boobies. Mine aren't real big or anything, but they are spectacular if I do say so myself. Okay, not really, but by some trick of the light the boob that is visible looks fairly good. I doubt I'll ever get a better pic so I'm just going to go with it.



my rack



Well, that's it. I was trying to take a picture of one of my ears to show you how incredibly simian they are, but I'm not having much luck. Maybe next time.

Monday

So, for all my legions of fans (hi, Mom!) who might be wondering what glamorous, hip, and provocative activities I engaged in this weekend, I will tell you if you promise not to be jealous.

I cleaned out my refrigerator.

See, just when you thought this blog couldn't get any more riveting after that amazing post in which I whined about my back problems, I go and pull this out of my hat. Because I'm always thinking of you guys! Hey, it was either this or some more crappy poetry.





No one would ever mistake me for a good housekeeper or anything, but even I have some standards. When I opened up the fridge door early Saturday morning, looking for butter for my toast, I was greeted by the sight of about thirty bowls covered in Saran Wrap. Each little bowl had about a teaspoonful of something that most people wouldn't think to save, like a spoonful of corn, or a dab of macaroni and cheese. No wonder I can never find a clean bowl or a coffee cup. My mom is insane.

Honestly, I can't imagine what she is envisioning when she carefully wraps these little treasures and stores them away. I mean, what hungry person would open up the refrigerator and think to themselves, "Oh goodie, there's a morsel of peas, a bite of chicken flavored Rice-A-Roni, and three rubbery spears of asparagus. Lunch is served!"

Once I tossed all that stuff in the trash, I figured I might as well keep going. Here are some of the more interesting things I found:

Five jars of pickles (all garlic flavored)

Three jars of mustard (one sweet-hot, two Gulden's)

One jar of key lime jelly. Who has ever heard of lime jelly? I don't remember buying that.

One mini bottle of Hypnotiq. I'm not sure how that ended up in my fridge, but I had never tasted it before so I opened it and slugged some down. Blech, it was like drinking expired fruit juice. Really awful. Why do all the rap stars love it?

One jar of Tennessee Chow Chow. It's kind of like relish. Pretty good stuff.

One half empty bottle of Newman's Own ranch dressing, expiration date 11/05.

A mixture of one dried up egg, almond oil, and something I assume might have been milk. It puzzled me until I remembered it was a facial mask recipe that I made up last month and forgot to apply. It was stuck to the bowl like cement. I'm sure it would have tightened my pores.


So to summarize, yes, my weekend was fantastic! And yes, I am a slob who enjoys garlicky pickled products. How was your weekend?

Baby Got Back Troubles

Have you ever thrown your back out? It seems like everyone has at one time or another. I just read that 85% of Americans will experience back pain before the age of 50. How depressing is that? I used to roll my eyes every time my dad started griping about his aches and pains, but now I understand what he was bitching about. I managed to hurt my back pretty good this weekend and it really sucks.

I was messing around on the pole, trying to work up a routine where I do a running back flip, slowly spin around in a circle, then finish by sliding to the floor in the splits (all the while holding a flaming baton in my mouth. Pretty cool, huh?) I'm not sure what happened exactly, but suddenly I felt a kind of ripping sensation in my lower back. And then when I tried to stand up, I couldn't. I've been hobbling around like Quasimodo ever since.




It's not as easy as it looks, people."



Whenever I stand up or sit down, I feel these weird, awful spams in my lower back. I've been laying on a heating pad and trying to do a bit of gentle yoga and it's helped a bit. I went to a chiropractor which also helped a little, but hasn't cured me. I was so desperate for relief that I let Cousin Balki smear my back with some secret Myposian remedy that smells like a mixture of garlic, goat cheese, and mud. It stinks, and he was getting too happy about rubbing it on so I put a stop to that, but if it had worked I'd let him rub away.

If I were a praying sort of person, I'd probably pray about this; but I'm more of a cussing type, so my language has been even more foul than usual. Everything is pissing me off. Like this morning when I gimped into the grocery store and all these people were smiling in my face and saying, "good morning, how are you?" I swear after the seventh time I felt like growling, "Fine, I just can't wait to disembowel you and spread your entrails all over the store. How are you doing?" I wish I had fangs to bare, or claws that I could unleash to warn others away from me. How are southerners so shiny and happy at eight o'clock in the freaking morning?

If anyone knows of any good voodoo spells to cure lower back pain I'd certainly be happy to hear about them.

Five Stupid Poems

Skin
I've tried and tried to pamper my skin
with pricy lotions and sunblocks and organic oils
you'd think it would be soft and creamy as a magnolia
but no, it looks like crap!
Fuck you, Skin!



It's True
You mean you can't believe
everything you read
on the internet????



Jobs
I need
a job.



Thanks Dad
I was all dressed up
smiling, radiant, ready to dazzle
my father took my hand tenderly
"You look beautiful, honey," he said.
"You look like Ann Coulter."



Writers Block
I really hate writers block
it stinks worse than a sweaty gym sock
I can't think of thing and it's eleven o'clock
my mood is blacker than volcanic rock
as I sit at my desk and try to take stock
I feel like punching someone in the penis.

Three Threes

Three Things I Wish I Had

1. A big pot of leprechuan gold

2. The power to make my eyes bug out of my head at will.

3. A brain. Sometimes I suspect that I only have a brain stem.




Three Possible Causes of the Stains on my Carpet


1. Dog pee

2. Wine

3. Blood, maybe? WTF?




Three Reasons I Can't Go Back to Bed, Even Though I'd Like To


1. My moron neighbor is outside playing with his chainsaw again.

2. I've had three cups of coffee.

3. Sleep is for sissies. The wicked don't need to rest.

Journal Entry

Dear Diary,

Life sucks as usual. I hate my job, but every other job that I've applied for seems worse. One of those damn protesters poured diet Mountain Dew on my new distressed metallic-Italian leather heels and now they are a sticky mess. And last night my cousin Balki showed up on my doorstep, looking for a place to live. I guess my other cousin Larry kicked him out of his Chicago apartment. It's not like I can say no, the guy barely speaks English. My dad's people all come from a tiny Greek island called Mypos where everyone herds sheep and marries their relatives. Thank God dad got away! My mom wants me to get Balki a job at The Boobie Barn. Great, like I don't have enough things to do.




Cousin Balki is already getting on my nerves. He's full of stories about the old country, and the time he was abducted by gypsies are something. I try to tune him out.


Anyway diary, like I said, I've been feeling a little blue and in need of some distraction. My friend Lindsay and I decided to head over to the fairgrounds on Saturday night to see what was going on. I was just devouring a deep fried pickle on a stick (yeah I know that's not on my raw diet. Shut up!) when I spotted him up on stage, strumming on a guitar. My new true love. The lead singer for Jordan Catalano and the Emo Boys.




He had the voice of an angel. Or at least, a better than average boy-bander. He looked right at me as he sang these words:


Oh Mary was the type of girl
so nice that she was rude
she liked to wear one red shoe
and maybe do a shot or two
it always got her in the mood
to eat junk food and get tattooed
it may be lewd but I viewed her nude
and later on we totally screwed
it was transcendent ---until she spewed
oh yeah, yeah, yeah,
oh no, no, no


So poetic! I deeply felt that we must be soulmates. I was so mesmerized that I accidentally jabbed Lindsay in the eye with the pickle stick. She barely noticed. Her face was all slack with lust. Drool was beginning to leak from the corners of her mouth. I knew I would have to fight her for this guy.

I figured I had a good chance. I mean, sure, she has blonde hair and big round boobs, but I have intelligence and wit and a slightly better than average ass.

Well, you can guess what happened. He went home with Lindsay. Men always go for the big boob types! I comforted myself by imagining how many STDs they had between the two of them. It was like trying to guess how many jelly beans are in a jar. I'm not very good with math.


But wait till I tell you this, diary. I had the last laugh. When I went to Starbucks last night for my Venti Decaf Pumpkin Latte, I saw him in line. He didn't look all that hawt.




He was wearing Crocs. That's right, Crocs. Shiny silver ones. It was like -- so lame. And he was totally wearing last seasons eye liner. I smiled real big at Lindsay. She scowled at me and gave the finger.



Looks like Linds has been hitting the hair dye again. I wonder what happened to the #26 Bimbo Blonde?


Lindsay doesn't have much of a sense of humor. I much prefer hanging out with Paula. While we were at Starbucks, Mr. Dreamy walked in.




"Hullo girls."


Even though I still think he has a goony voice, I'm starting to crush on Mr. Dreamy myself. He's just so shiny. Plus he smells really good. Like....designer spring water and white truffle shampoo. Paula remarked that he was so beautiful he made her want to cry. And then she did.




That crazy Paula! She's a lovable little nut, she is. She wasn't even that drunk!


Well I gotta go, diary. I need to speak to Captain Peanut about a job for my cousin. Paula said she would pay Balki to rub her feet and warm her cold, cold bed, but I'm sure she was kidding. I don't think even she is that desperate. He's really irritating. Even Tucksworth can't stand him. He keeps smacking Balki upside the head with a stainless steel ice bucket. I really need to get that monkey another bag of weed. He's so irritable lately.

Lunch with Lindsay

I had lunch with my friend Lindsay at an outside cafe the other day. She used to work at Classy Earl's House of Class and Tits with me but now she works at Hooters. I thought I'd get the inside scoop before I make up my mind whether to take the job or not. Lindsay is a riot, and she's always full of helpful advice. We had a blast.





"Yeah, it's true, if your ass gets any bigger than this they start docking your pay. You'd better keep on taking the Adderall, Pru. Oh that reminds me, can I buy some off of you?"







"Okay, I wrote down the name of the hair coloring brand we're all required to use. That's Miss Clariol #26, in Bimbo Blonde."








"If you thought Big Earl was bad, wait till you meet the preeverted assistant manager at Hooters. It's sooo gross how he's always checking to make sure we don't have any visible panty lines. That's another thing they will dock your pay for, by the way."







"Oh my God, Pru! Check out that hot hunk of man meat walking over this way. I see him hanging around here all the time and I want him! Does my hair look okay?"








"Hello sexy ladies!"







"Yeah, yeah, quit your snickering, Pru. I know he has a voice like Minnie Mouse and he's a total metrosexual but I don't care! He's super foxy. Oh and tell your drunk friend Paula to back off. I saw her giving him the hairy eyeball at Starbucks the other day, and pretending she couldn't remember how to stir her coffee so he'd help her. This guy will be mine, you bet your sweet ass!"

"Hey, anybody got a light?"

September is the strangest month

Things are heating up over at The Boobie Barn. The crazy protesters are becoming louder and more numerous. They are really pissed. They want to shut down all the gentlemen's clubs here in town.





I find it ironic that I am now worrying about being stoned as I walk in the door to work, considering I usually have to get stoned in order to go to work in the first place. Isn't life strange?




Captain Peanut only made things worse when he gave a press conference declaring himself the King of Nashville. He said he won't be run out of business by a bunch of churchies.





Captain Peanut in his kingly attire. What a moron he is!




One of the strippers from the nudie bar across the street started flashing the protesters.




This chick's nickname is Crazy Courtney. She's a tough broad. While she was baring her breasts, someone in the crowd chucked her upside the head with a carton of chocolate milk, but it didn't phase her.




The owner of the drag queen club, Janice's Cabaret, came out in support of The Boobie Barn. I was surprised to see Janice actually IS a woman. I thought she was a tranny for sure. Although, maybe she's just had some really good surgery.




Janice swears she is a close personal friend of Tyra Banks, and that Tyra might do a show on us. That would be exciting. I've always wanted to be on TV.




I still want a new job, but I really don't want to work at Hooter's. I'm thinking of starting a business giving pole dancing aerobics lessons at home. Either that or I could take the job that my cousin, Larry the undertaker, offered me selling burial plots. Which of these sounds better to you?

Signs

I've never been a big believer in omens or any sort of prophecy, but lately it seems like there are signs every where telling me it's time for a new job.

First of all, The Boobie Barn has attracted the wrath of some bible thumping loonies. They are apparently mad as heck about the jello wrestling. They think it is corrupting the city with sinfulness and they want to get the club shut down. Hey, I hated the jello wrestling too. I wouldn't mind their protests so much if they didn't call me a Whore of Babylon everytime I walk in the door. That gets old quick. Plus the way they chant, "Stone the strumpets!" constantly, well, it's downright creepy.



Our lovable protesters. Don't they have an abortion clinic to bomb or something?




Thankfully we do have one guy who protests against the protesters for us. His name is Joe Bob and he's one of our best customers.



Joe Bob even brought his kids out to help him this weekend. Isn't that sweet?



Captain Peanut is livid of course. I haven't seen him this angry since his diamond tooth fell into the jello pit. He made us girls fish around in there for three hours until we found it. Ugh, I will never eat jello again as long as I live.



Captain Peanut, eloquent as usual.



As if all this stuff going on wasn't enough of a sign that I need to get another job, I opened the paper the other day to read my horoscope and it said this:

Gemini May 21 - June 21

Damn, you really need to get another job!


So I guess I will start perusing the employment ads. I really hate job hunting though. I'm not suited for much. For instance, I can't work in an office. I've had plenty of decent office jobs, but I usually spend more time plotting hideous yet ironic deaths for my co-workers, than I do working.

I can't work at Earl's. You know why.

I'm not going to work at the fully nude places.

I guess that leaves me with only one option.




Oh boy, pantyhose with extra-small shorts. I just can't wait (to kill myself).

The Perils of Prunella

Casino owner Ram Sexington quirked an eyebrow as he stared at the lovely girl in front of him.

"So it was you who stole the hundred thousand dollars in nickles from my video poker machine? Well, well, can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the police?"

Prunella straigtened her spine and raised her sea blue eyes to meet his. "I'm sorry, sir. It was wrong of me. But the orphans desperately needed food, blankets, and a Kabballah center. You have millions, surely you can spare a few nickles to help these children!"

"A regular female Robin Hood, are you?" Ram's green eyes were sardonic as they moved up and down her slim figure in the soft pale silk of her dress. "That's a lovely idea, but you would have been better off had you come to me privately and asked for the money. Perhaps we could have worked out some...arrangement. But when you steal from me, well, I really cannot overlook it. I am a businessman not a saint."

"No, more of a sinner I should think."

Despite the flippancy of her answer, Prunella was apprehensive. Something about Ram set up a vibration of nerves inside of her. He was so big, so dark and muscular, and she could feel the undercurrent of real intention in his gaze. He wouldn't think twice about taking a woman if he fancied her, and never before had she come up against this kind of primitive libido.

"You're right about that, Miss Jones," Ram spoke with a soft menace. "I am a sinner with no fear of the fires of hell. I shall quite enjoy them. Now let us discuss how you are going to repay me that money."

"I can work for you," Pru said eagerly. "I'm a fast typist and -- "

Ram smiled and took a step towards her. "I already have a secretary. No...the job I have in mind for you involves spending a lot of time on your back... in my bed."

"How dare you!" she gasped, outraged. "Go ahead and call the police. I'd rather take my chances in prison then sully myself with a beast like you!"

She turned on her heel to leave when suddenly, with one quick and nimble movement he grasped her slender arm in an iron grip and pulled her tightly against him. She could feel the heat of his bulging manhood pressing hard into her backside. "You're not going anywhere, little thief. You are mine!"

"Don't do this to me," she cried, struggling to break free. "we'll both be degraded ---"

"Pleasurably so," he rejoined, his lips brushing the sensitive nape of her neck. An alarming sensation shot through her when he reached out a hand and found the jewelled pin that secured her hair in it's prim bun. With one swift motion he pulled the pin and the tumbling strands of shining gold fell softly to her shoulders. Ram wrapped his fingers in hair and turned her round to face him.

"I'm taking you, so you had better stop fighting me," he growled. "You had better give in to the idea, for your silky white skin looks as if it might bruise easily."


So what do you think should happen next? How can Pru get away from this horndog? Help me finish this scene.


** I stole this idea from MJ as usual.

These are the People in my Neighborhood

Even though I've lived in Tennessee for a while now, I don't know a whole lot of people. And I don't know too many of my neighbors. So when the neighborhood association closed down my street for a block party this past weekend, I decided this would be a great time to really get to know the families around me. Actually, I'm lying. I didn't want to go to at all. I hate the neighbors that I do know, but my mom forced me.

My mom is a very social person. I swear, in the short time she's been staying here she has already picked up a southern accent and taken to calling everybody hon.

"C'mon, hon," she said. "It will do you good to make some nice new friends." She is not wild about my part time exotic dancing and thinks the only thing standing between me and a respectable office job is lack of "contacts." As if! But sometimes I feel sorry that she got stuck with such a weird daughter, so I helped her make a baked bean casserole and allowed her to drag me to the stupid party.



The first person I met was a gay guy named Al. I was totally thrilled as I love gay men. I know a few here, but they are all very mellow types. You know, the kind of guys who have settled down with their lawyer husbands and adopted children. I miss the campy gay guys that like to throw back Mojitos and engage in bitchy gossip sessions with me, so it was cool to meet Al. We had just started discussing the merits of MAC false eyelashes when a skinny woman with a giant head, and big bug eyes sat down next to us and glared at me.



Al and his "wife" Star. How could my gaydar have failed me so badly?



"Hello," she said, extending her hand in a regal manner. "My name is Star. I'm Alvin's wife." Then she planted a big, wet kiss on his mouth, which he returned. There were tongues flopping all over the place. It was pretty gross. I had to look away until it was over.

"Nice... to meet you," I stammered, confused. How could Al be married to a woman? I'd assumed he was gayer than Gay Pride float filled with rainbow colored poodles. But I guess I was wrong. I felt a little bit let down. Luckily my mom started talking to them about Martha Stewert sheet sets, or something equally as boring, so I moved on.



I met one kinda hot guy who had a whole bunch of kids. The kids were pretty cute but very demanding. At one point it looked like he was trying to carry all four of them at once. I never did see his wife. I wonder what she's like?




The DILF who lives down the block. Yum.



I met the new couple who just bought the house across the street from me. They are pretty nice but a little....trippy. The wife was very, very quiet. She smiled a lot but didn't talk at all, except to say that everything was amazing. Her husband was super intense. He's the kind of guy who stares intently into your eyes while he talks and stands just a little too close. It made me sort of uncomfortable. I kept backing away. As soon as he found out I was a writer he started going on and on about some novel he is working on. Something about a spaceman named Xenu. I guess it is science fiction, I really wasn't listening. I was watching the DILFy guy run after his kids. What a nice butt he has.Schwing!





The new couple, Tom and Kate. Can you believe how dressed up they for a neighborhood bar-b-que? I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans.


I was really kind of bored all day until I started talking to Paula. I can't believe I've never met her before. Boy, does she know how to party! We totally bonded over Strawberry Margaritas. She was pretty cool and didn't even mind when Tucksworth accidently knocked over her drink and it spilled all over her lap. Actually I'm not sure she noticed, she was pretty hammered. But fun!





My new BFF Paula.


At one point she turned to me and said -- well truthfully she slurred, "You know, Pru, I am sooo tired of people not treating me like the gift that I am."

I couldn't believe my ears. That's the way I feel every single day of my life!! I'm sure we are going to be great friends.

Bookmark Love

God, I love the world wide web. When I'm not busy spinning on a stripper's pole, or flashing my boobs in a blog post, I like to surf the internet. I have so many sites bookmarked that it's getting to be a chore to find anything. I tried to delete a few things this morning, but it's hard to let go. Here are some of my favorites that you might not have heard of:



1) stitchymcyarnpants - I've been meaning to tell my knitting friends (LA and Diane) about this one for ages. This site is dedicated to displaying all of the amazingly craptaastic things people have made with yarn through the ages. Man, do I wish I knew how to crochet so I could make one of those frog purses. It's gor-gee-ous. Plus the commentary is hilarious.



2) rate my turban - what can I say about this? Some days you just feel like rating a turban. I really like the guy with the pink turban best. He has a sassy attitude.



3) taphophilia.(dot)com - this is described as a repository of morbid curiosities, thanatology, cemetary, funeral industry, and death related news. I think it's really interesting as I am a weirdo like that. Check it out if you dare!



4) snopes.com - this site is a great reference source for urban legends, and folklore. I like the section on Coca-cola a lot.



5) world beard and moustache championships - Hawt!



6) wild recipes - full of recipes for the worst sounding food you can imagine. If you've always wanted to learn how to make headcheese, then you must check it out. Hint: there is hog head and tongue in it.


7) a soviet poster a day - basically some guy posts a soviet poster everyday and tells you what it means. Well...I find it interesting anyway.



So tell me, what strange sites do you have bookmarked and why do you like them?

Johnny and Me: A Shakespearean Tragedy of Unrequited Love

What is this.....what is this I spy?
A maiden fair and fresh as the dawn.
With Cupid's arrow have I thus been speared to a lovesick madness;
by this encounter of assailing eyes and pearl-like breasts.
Come to me, oh wicked, wicked wench.





Do you speak of me, my Lord? Pray go on.





Ah, your beauty is saint seducing gold.
Tut, I have lost myself. I am lost utterly.
My love is like a smoke raised with the fumes of sighs.
This fire, scorching with with the heat of a thousand suns,
shall not flicker, but burn only brighter
if you shed thy garments immediately.






Aye, my Lord! I am happy to do thy bidding! Off go these cursed garments!






Oh.....um....sorry, my lady. I do apologize, but you see I was speaking not to you but...






...to this vision of loveliness over here. That's right...you, my maiden. Come to me.






Be right there, Lord Sexypants. Smooches!







NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Tis too cruel! I cannot live! Where be mine dagger?

Good Morning World

So, it's just another Manic Monday. How I wish it was Sunday. Cause that's my fun day. My I-don't-have-to-run day. But it's not, it's Mondaaaay-ugh-ick-cough-yuck. Oh well, might as well have some fun. Wanna take a time wasting test? Click here for the "What Am I Like?" Personality Test.

I'm an idealist. How about yourself?

I Need an Intervention

I apologize for the lack of blogging this week. Believe me, it's not because I didn't want to or was too busy. No, it's because I just realized something terrible. I am utterly and completely addicted to Adderall.

If you've never heard of Adderall, it's a medication commonly prescribed for ADD. It works great, but it is super addictive. I never knew how much until I recently tried to quit cold turkey. I've been sitting here at my desk all week, just sort of rocking back and forth and occasionally wiping the drool off my chin. It was exceptionally brutal as I had also sworn off caffeine. I guess I shouldn't have tried to quit all my vices at once. I just got carried away, what with my recent conversion to raw veganism and yoga and all.

Maybe I'll go to a NA meeting this weekend. I bet I'd meet some celebrities. And it would be good to let the real me hang out. I can just imagine how it would go:

ME - "Hello, my name is Pru and I'm an Adderall addict. I'm also addicted to smoking oregano-like substances, occasionally snorting Wellbutrin, shoplifting, telling fibs, snooping in people's medicine cabinets, washing my hands, gossiping, and creating mayhem. Oh and I'm a total hypochondriac and sometime agoraphobe."

NA CROWD - "Hi Pru."


Ugh, that sounds boring. I hate meetings. Never mind, I just won't quit. Now that I think about it, I've probably already killed off 80% of my brain cells. I need the Adderall to kick the remaining cells in the ass and get them to work.


I'm still feeling slow, so I think I will just do this meme that Mister Underhill tagged me with last week.


Elaborate on the Following:


Accent - I don't have an accent, y'all.

I Don't Drink - because when I do, I start peeling off my clothes and wearing a lampshade on my head. Actually that is a total lie. I do drink plenty.

Chore I Hate - earning money. Man, I hate that! Maybe that's why I'm so unsuccessful at doing it.

Pets - one stoned monkey named Tucksworth, a lovable but intelligence challenged beagle named Shirley, various other animals that don't seem to live as long.

Essential Electronic - a Wii. I must have it! Will someone please buy one for me?

Perfume/Cologne - when I adhere to raw veganism, my sweat smells really fresh and good, like a nice crisp apple still wet with morning dew. I should bottle and sell it, as it is better than any of that $50 stank water that JLO puts out. Also perfume makes me sneeze.

Gold or Silver? - being a hippie, I prefer groovy natural gemstones like Moss Agate and Tigers Eye. They help balance my chalkras, and those damn things need balancing.

Insomnia- yes.

Most Admired Trait- I like people who are smart and verbally quick. There are a few bloggers out there whom I worship like rock stars for their twisted imaginations and ability to make the perfect comment.

Kids- one half alien baby, now being raised by Scientologists. His name is Ozzie Danzig. (sniff) Please don't ask me about it.

Religion- no thanks.

Siblings- yes, I am the youngest of 13 children. My mom didn't even know she was pregnant when I entered the world. She thought/hoped her uterus had fallen out, but it was me instead.

Here are the names of my siblings in no particular order:

Pierre
Paquitta
PollyAnna
Pax
Posh
Phuong
Pennsylvania
Pablo
Pebbles
Pickles
Poofy
Sean-Preston

Time I Wake Up - when Tucksworth slaps me across the face and screeches. God, that monkey is such a little bitch.

Unusual Talent/Skill - I'm exceptionally good at lying. It may be my one true talent.

Vegetable I Refuse to Eat - being vegan means I pretty much need to eat them all or risk starving to death. Besides, I like veggies.

Worst Habit - being superficial. Also, the inability to spell/use grammar.

X-Rays - tons. I've been abducted by Xenu several times after all. But I much prefer the x-rays to the anal probe.

My Favorite Meal - whatever is on your plate. It always looks better than whatever I ordered. Can I have a bite?



If you have ever been addicted to any substance you are hereby tagged with this meme. And if you've never been addicted to anything, you're tagged too (cause I hate you).

Things Running Through My Mind at 6:56 A.M.

I would totally watch a monkey knife fight. Is that wrong?






If Hitler had played the banjo do you think history would have been different? I do.






I'd really like to learn how to clog dance.






How come you never see pinheads anymore? Are they extinct or has modern medicine been able to mask the condition with plastic surgery? Also, "Where Have All the Pinheads Gone?" would be a great name for a band, don't you think?

Is the sentence above grammatically correct? I doubt it.





I need to remember to buy some rubber gloves. So that I.......won't ruin my manicure while doing dishes...... yeah that's it.






Mustard!




What are you thinking about this morning?

Tagged

I've been tagged by everyone's favorite lollipop lover, Anandamide with the question "If you were left alone on a deserted island, which celebrity would you choose to spend time with?"

As you can see this is serious question which requires some thought and effort, which I am feeling much too lazy to do. Since my immediate answer, Johnny Depp, is a bit dull and unimaginative, I thought I'd ask a few email buddies for their suggestions and weigh the pros and cons of each. Here are their choices:



1) Stephen Colbert- comedian, star of The Colbert Report.



PROS: He is hilarious and cute as a button. I would so love to give him a lap dance and pull his glasses off. I bet he'd blush like crazy.

CONS: The George Bush jokes might get a little old after a while. Plus he looks kind of wimpy. Between the two of us we might have a hard time surviving a deserted island.




2) Pete Doherty - singer, druggie, ex of Kate Moss



PROS: He would be sure to have plenty of drugs with him, which could help pass the time while we waited for rescue. If we ran out of drugs I could probably get high for the next few years just from licking his skin.

CONS: Too numerous to list.





3) Sigmund Freud - the "father of psychoanalysis." Yes, he is dead but the meme didn't rule out historical celebs. This is what you get when you ask a college professor for her suggestion.



PROS: Stuck on an island, we would have plenty of time to work on my issues.

CONS: I don't want to work on my issues. I'd rather pop a pill like everyone else.





4) Bear Grylls - British mountaineer and host of the show Man vs. Wild



PROS: Oh yeah, now this was a great suggestion! Bear would build me a condo out palm fronds and volcanic rock and figure out how to make wine from coconuts. Plus.....YEOW, he's smokin hot. I'd never want to be rescued.

CONS: Is there a con here? I did see him drink his own urine once on an episode of his TV show, but that's not a real big deal.





5> Jay Leno - host of The Tonight Show, comic. This suggestion came from my mother BTW.



PROS: According to my mom, Leno is, "cute, sweet, so funny, and I bet he has a large package." (I told you the woman is sex obsessed).

CONS: Not really my cup of tea, though he does seem like a really nice person. I saw him once at a coffee shop in Burbank and he spent half an hour signing autographs and chatting with people, which was pretty cool of him.





6) Wilson - beach ball, star of the movie Cast Away


PROS: Good conversationalist

CONS: unfortunately too round. I'd need something a little more phallic shaped.





So after weighing the pros and cons of each of these celebrities I think I will pick......Johnny Depp! No, actually I'd like to be shipwrecked with all of them so that way they could worship me as their queen and I'd never get bored or sexually frustrated. Thanks to everyone who was nice enough to return my email.

Now comes the fun part. Who shall I tag with this assignment? Normally I never tag people since I'm all cool and laid back like that. I just say "Do it if you want to." But today I am feeling especially evil and bitchy since I've been trying to ween myself off of caffeine (or at least the massive quantities of caffeine that I usually injest). So....who shall it be? Let me think....okay here we go, I am going to tag LA, Diane, Mister Underhill, Memphis Steve, Scottsdale Girl, and Helen. And what's more, I am hereby tagging anyone who regularly visits this blog but never comments. You lurkers know who you are. Say something or suffer the wrath of (cue the sound effects) "The Great and Terrible Desert Island Meme". Muyhahahahahaha.