... tell Mom "HI" from jail, Dad... !

“Ma’am, are you okay, ma’am?” The Officer asked, shining his flashlight in my face.

“Huh?” I said, as the fog lifted from my brain and I began to register where I was, “This is not my beautiful house, this is not my beautiful—“

“--Ma’am, you were behind the wheel of that large automobile,” he interrupted, nodding his head in the direction of a rented U-Haul truck, “when you rear-ended this Toyota Camry here. Can you tell me what happened?”

My mind raced as I tried to piece together the details. Then I remembered my hair stylist, Mary F, called me up and asked me if I would help her move. Now this bitch ain't one for day labor, that’s what the parking lot of Home Depot is for, but she said that she only needed somebody to drive a U-Haul truck for her, and that she would give me a free cut and color [not it’s not that the carpet doesn't match the drapes, but I thought I could mix it up a bit with some highlights or something, and lord knows I have a hard time saying no to free shit, so of course I said I would].

I showed up at her place and the U-Haul was all loaded up, she had even crammed some funky smelling plants in the front passenger seat. When I had asked her why she didn't just stick those in her car with the rest of her herb garden, she told me that she had to split up the garden, just in case. It struck me as odd, but whatevs, free cut and color. Besides, she has always been a little wacky anyway.

I had been driving down the 405, the smell of the plants filling the cabin of the truck, when traffic had slowed to a stop. But there was something in my head that told me not to stop, just to keep going—

“Oh my god, its just like ‘The Happening,’” I cried out to the cop as the pieces clicked into place. The cop looked puzzled. “You know, the movie, the one with Marky Mark!” I said. The cop still didn't register. “The one with the plants that make people kill themselves!”

“Sounds like a dumb movie.”

“It was, but that’s what happened! It was the plants, they were trying to get me to kill myself, they’re turning on us!” I exclaimed pointing to the plants in the cab while pulling my t-shirt up over my mouth and nose to filter out the brain controlling plant pheromones. The cop walked over to get a better look at the plants then came back and pushed me onto the trunk of the Camry. At first I thought he was being a bit forward, but he was pretty hot, so I was game, until he started to read me my Amanda Rights [or whatever they are].

“What are you arresting me for?!” I protested as calmly as I could with my face pressed against the trunk of a car in totally a not-as-fun-as-the-fantasy-is kinda way.

“Ma’am, you are under arrest for transporting a highly potent strain of marijuana plant. This plant is so potent that even being next to the plant will get you higher than balls.”

“But this isn’t my stuff, I swear,” and just as I was saying it, I wondered what percentage of the people on the show Cops were only guilty of being tricked into helping a friend move. The cop was loading me into his car when I saw Mary F nervously drive by with her car filled with contraband plants.

I had better get more than a cut and color out of this shit…

Abraham Lincoln once said...

A new fitness experience...

Bitches always be askin, "Frau, how come you always looking so fine and fierce?" I know I make it look effortless, but it takes a lot of work to look this fly. I thought it was going to be hard once I had to close my gym membership [fucking Drew Barrymore] and I tried all of the fad workouts [screw P90X... and Insanity is just crazy!]. 

Then I met a very special lady named Joanna Rohrback. It was like meeting my special spirit animal high up in some exotic mountains somewhere in the Ancient Orient... I was skeptical at first, I mean who wouldn't be, she insisted we meet at Lincoln Park near the Japanese garden [hence my previous Ancient Orient analogy, I know, it was a bit of a stretch but at least you can see where I was able to draw a line]. Once we started, it was like the clouds parted [which they did, because the marine layer started to burn off] and I was exposed to a whole new approach that unified both mind and body in the ultimate fitness experience. I felt like was was on "E," but without all of those annoying PLUR kids. I literally [figuratively] transcended. Who needs an over priced gym membership, when you can Prancercise! 

And then, as if the gift of Prancercise was not enough, Joanna Rohrback showed me how to twerk like I've never seen a bitch twerk before! Thank you, Joanna, thank you for this gift!

One of those days...

... has this ever happened to you, where you are out and about and you see some woman out of the corner of your eye, and thats not really your deal, but she is looking kinda fine, rocking some hot side boob and all... and you think to yourself, these scissors don't cut that way, but damn, if I were to ever scissor up a bitch, it would be that fine piece of over there... so you turn to fully check her out, because why not, and then you realize that the fine piece you've spied is actually your reflection in a shop window... and then you giggle and wink at your reflection... ug, that's the kinda day I've had... !

Reduce, Recycle, Reuse...

Everyone knows that I’m very environmentally conscious… I mean, it was Earth Day last month and all! On which I spent the whole day gathering cans to recycle. Granted it was pretty easy [I found tons of shopping carts near Downtown just filled with them!], but still what were you doing on the 10th of last month? That’s right, not loving mother Earth like this bitch loves a mother. I’m not saying that I’m better than you, but that’s all I’m saying.

So when I was at the recycle center I was also dropping off my old Gateway Computer to recycle. What can I say, I’m a sucker for cow print packaging… it makes me giggle… cows the shape of boxes… that shit is hilarious! Anywho, the guy was all, “we don’t recycle electronics, you have to take it to a special electronics recycling center,” and he directed me to some place in Wilmington called “Totally Legit eRecycling.” Which sounded legit to me, and off I went.

“So you guys wipe the hard drives and stuff, you know, before you ship this stuff out to be dismantled by children in India, right?” I ask the guy as I plop my computer on the counter.

“Yes, of course, of course,” the gentleman said, sliding the computer toward his side of the counter with a smile.

“Do you ever wonder how their deft little hands know just where to find all of that tiny copper wiring,” I mused to the man. He stared at me blankly. “You know, for the recycling.”

“Yes, of course, of course,” he said.

“Now, you are sure that you guys wipe the hard drives, right?”

“Yes, of course, of course,” he reassured me. Which didn't really reassure me, but the place seemed legit, after all, it was in their name. And if you can’t have faith that businesses are going to look out for you, then what do we have?

So fast forward, the sun in shining and I’m feeling pretty damned good about myself, then I remember all that recycling I did, and I feel even better! Until I get a text from my BFF, Pygar, directing me to some website called “Naked White Bitch Bathroom Selfies.net” and that there is totally a picture of me there. Which I think is impossible, because I only ever took one bathroom selfie [which I was going to sext to Channing Tatum but he keeps changing his number... it’s a little game we play, him and I], and that pic was on my old computer that I had recycled. So there is no way that it could be me, because the guy at the eRecycling place assured me that they'd wipe the drive. Of course, I go to the site to verify this forgery, but then blam, there it is!

Oh well... at least I wasn't making a "duck face"... then I'd really be embarrassed.

P.S. Look at me, Channing. It's all for you!

Do you ever wonder... ? Sylvia Plath Edition

I wonder what would have happened if Sylvia Plath had her own baking show. Maybe she could have been fulfilled by her love of baking and the quest to make the perfect German's Chocolate Cupcake... incidentally, did you know that its not German Chocolate Cake... but rather German's Chocolate Cake, and that its not German at all! I know, right!? 

The More You Know!

Scouts Honor

So I was walking out of the Rite-Aid after picking up a prescription [long story, lets just say, "Six Degrees of Taylor Swift" is not a fun game to play] listening to the new My Bloody Valentine album on my headphones. As I exited the store I was greeted by a pair of little boys standing by a folding table selling tins of popcorn. One of them was talking to me but I couldn't hear him over the reverbic swell of Kevin Shield's white noise.

"---buy some popcorn to support our organization?" I heard the boy finish after I popped my earbuds out.

"Like I would support your shitty homophobic organization." I scoffed.

"But--"

"--but nothing!" I interrupted. "For an organization that is supposed to be 'protect and serve,' or some shit, its certainly filled with a bunch of elitist bullshit. If sexuality has no place in your crappy Scouts, then why does your organization support an out right ban?"

"But--"

"I'm not finished!" I interrupted again. "Those poor little queer kids want to learn to make a fire out of twigs and tie fucked up knots just as much as you little straight kids. In fact, knot tying more of a practical skill for them, since they'll be able to use those skills when they start going to those nasty BDSM clubs. So fuck your shitty elitist club!" I added, just before flipping their table over, scattering tins of popcorn on the ground.

"Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing?!" a woman was yelling as she ran up to us.

"Oh, so you must be one of these kids' mother, huh? Well let me tell you something, the Boys Scouts of America is a intolerant organization, and you should be ashamed to have your kids in--"

"Kids? This is my husband!" the woman said.

"Huh?" record scratch. I guess I should have noticed the one of the kids had a thick ass mustache and the a full grey beard.

"Yeah, lady, we're raising money for 'Lilliput.' Its organization that helps little people from being overlooked," the mustached guy said.

"What, do they buy you lifts or something? I'm sorry guys, I'm just really upset by this new My Bloody Valentine album."

"I know, right!?" the woman said.

"I mean, come on, twenty one years later and you give us 'Isn't Anything' part two?"

"But not as interesting!" the woman added.

"Oh snap!" I said, with a snap. I then apologized again for the confusion and bought all of their popcorn tins to make it up to them. The woman was helping me load them into my car, and as we closed the trunk I turned to her, "I'm sorry, its driving me crazy, so I just have to ask, how do they survive with such tiny little organs?!"

"I know, its totally weird. I just try not to think about it."