hot sausage with mustard

Recently, on the blog:

- news bloopers are the best!!

- the antm girls get their makeovers

- i learn some lessons before i get older

- my sweet dawes made me a birthday video and i responded to it as she requested. it's best to watch them together i think...

- more stuff happens on top model

FRC: ANTM - two bitch special

first things first - i just found out that the pick up artist is coming back october 12. meeeexcellent.

Previously: Brittany was pretty, but not "ugly pretty" or "stinky pretty" or "fat pretty", so it wasn't good enough.

Hannah manages to offend two of her cracker allies. The girls go to a bowling alley to meet miss j. for some bowling alley high heel runway alley walking. extra slippery! we see in the background that antm couldn't rent out the whole bowling alley, and that there are still people actually bowling in the background. some do good, some don't, unfortunately no one falls. back at home, all the girls that hannah has offended graciously help her with her walk. (though considering what happens later, maybe it was actually "helping")

Runway challenge - they do a show in a bank for a guy named jeremy scott who looks suspiciously like jeffrey sebelia and has the same initials. mckey is actually wearing a curtain rod. the twist for this show is that they'll be blindfolded. SOMEONE HAS TO FALL, RIGHT?! the second twist is that the worst walker is getting the boot right after the show...no photo shoot, no panel. a twofer?! alright!!

Argh! No one is falling!! I highly doubt they are truly blindfolded. these girls are too dumb to not fall if they are completely blindfolded. Joslyn wins the challenge, and after a giant pause before naming the eliminated girl (which made me think they were gonna back out from eliminating a second girl), hannah was put out of her misery like a wolf being chased by a helicopter. her ass was sent back to the alaskan wilderness, where they have no trannies or gay people, and keep baked potatoes in their pockets for warmth. she gets one last "i'm from alaska!" in and good fucking riddance. joslyn shares her prize with sheena and isis. it's a photo shoot for a child designer.

Photo shoot - at the house pool. nigel will be shooting the girls in the water from the eyes up. he asks them if they're ready to get wet. i join them in saying "wooo!" most girls do well, elina has a hard time.

Panel: tyra does this weird elementary school version of a recap of hannah's demise, as though she's learning that it was hannah that was sent home as she's reading it off the teleprompter. or this is actually tyrabot. bleep blorp.

tyra again brings it all back to her explaining where the idea for the shoot came from, and shows off some romantic personal vacation photos. the guest judge, jeffrey sebelia (or jeremy scott...one of them), scolds samantha and tyra jumps right in saying "this is a BUSINESS fffyorst!" Also, dudes, i think tyra hates paulina, which just makes me love paulina more.

the first name called is clark. she is followed by annaleigh, l.b., sheena, mckey, marjorie, joslyn, and elina. the two remaining are samantha and isis. oh no, i think isis' time is up. isis has faded, and samantha was really hated by J.S. II. samantha is safe, and isis has served her purpose.

next time: stuff happens! someone gets kicked off!

i do as i'm told

y'all remember that video wifeypoo made for my getting older day, right? well, long ago when she made it, but before it was time for me to see it, she made me promise that i would record myself watching it. and you know what? word is bond:

best wife evar!!

here is my birthday gift from my wifeypoo, and i mean, it's pretty amazing:



right?

oh, and also best brother evar tooz

Important Lessons

Every year, I like to round up the lessons i've learned in the days before my birthday (which is today for those of you who don't know...but i'm pretty sure all five of you do). when i say "every year", i mean i started last year. if my memory is correct, i didn't actually post last year's lessons, but rather included them in the email i sent around as a party invite. basically, the big lessons were don't leave your wallet in a cab and if a spatula is falling to the ground, let it drop (rather than catch it between your arm and the hot pan). this year, i learned a few more lessons, and i thought i'd share my wisdom here.

in addition to the goya can lesson, i learned:

- how to surf! i even stood up on the board. haroo!!!

- i have lost an entire cup size. i don't want to talk about it.

- boxing has somehow made me better at bowling. i got four strikes in one game! (that's good for me, for any of you expert bowlers out there). i think it's maybe because they both start with bo- and end with -ing.

- whence learning how to surf, try not to rip a chunk of your toenail off and puncture your heel on some coral reef. it actually is quite painful and makes walking difficult.
-- if you are going to puncture your heel on sharp reef, try to aim for a lovely U-shaped wound -- when you bleed into a bandaid, it makes a heart.

- bruised knees really make a lot of things in life difficult

- when a production of Oliver is bad, it's baaaaaaaad

SRC: ANTM - makeovers!!243#@

previously - nikeysha was sent to eat a sandwich, hannah (hilary? heather? the alaska one...) was accused of being racist and didn't do much to dispel that...

the girls freak out because tyra is waiting for them in their apartment wearing a tiara. there's pizza, there's a lecture, there are princess gift bags. this is all an elaborate intro to the girls' makeovers. miss j. comes out dressed as the witch from snow white. what the fuck is going on. tyra drools apple all over the place, does her required death scene of the cycle, and mr jay comes back with his beta jay wig and prince outfit and then kisses tyra. i repeat, what the fuck. this is all an elaborate scheme to get out of telling the girls what their makeovers are.

omygod i can't deal with tyra anymore guys. i really can't. she pops out of a mirror to tell us what the girls are getting. i seriously can't deal with her anymore. marjorie goes dark, joslyn gets long wavy hair, samantha gets her hair chopped off (requisite crier), hannah gets bangs and a bob, clark gets dark brown locks, lauren cheese gets blonder hair, sheena gets hoochie highlights, analeigh gets blond layers (and looks like mariah carey now), elina gets a short red wavy weave (cries!!), mckey gets short black hair and looks hawt, isis gets a long weave, brittany gets a wavy weave. (there must've been a sale on wavy weaves.)

with their fancy new looks, the girls get trucked to wal mart. fancy. blah blah covergirl walmart shade challenge nigel's wife blah. some girls are good, some girls suck, marjorie calls it walgreens...hannah wins (blech) and gets excited that she can google herself. that probably would've been true if she hadn't won, considering that she's on top model right now.

photo shoot: swimsuits. and because it's all about tyra, the guy that shot tyra's (groundbreaking) sports illustrated swimsuit cover is the photog. i think this guy might just be nigel with a wig on. some girls are good, some are not. i think there are a few girls that need to be nervous here, but mostly i'm nervous that isis is mistaking necklaces for hoop earrings.

hey guys, crazy stripper lisa is getting work! alright!

elina is called first this week, followed by samantha, mckey, sheena, joslyn, marjorie, clark, isis, and hannah. this leaves, analeigh and brittany. one is something, the other is sometihng else. analeigh gets another chance and brittany is sent packing. it's kind of too bad because she seemed like a cool person. with brittany and sharaun both gone, does that mean mckey can now go by brittany? i mean, if there were a brittany survivor, she would clearly be the winner, right?

son of a black man from kenya and a white man from kansas

yoinked this one from the failblog

a friend of mine, which one i can't recall (warning!! your memory starts slipping really badly at 27) told me about this reporter blooper at the DNC and lo and behold they had it posted today on failblog.



it makes it even funnier that the reporter has no idea that he even screwed up.

the real victim here is barack obama's mother, what a tragic way to find out you are actually a man.

pretty convincing trannies

Recently, I've been quite long-winded on the blog. what about? wellllll...

-- the fall premieres of new and returning tv shows

-- not letting life beat you down for the better blog

-- almost realizing my fear of dying in my apartment unbeknownst to anyone

-- the first case for ojos privados

-- my adventurous day returning shit

-- concern about lobsters

-- aunt flo and heather

-- bold birds

-- and finally, this week's episode of top model

SRC: ANTM - an experiment

so, i know i said i'd barely be posting and this is my second post today. and i know i said i probs wouldn't be recapping top model until two weeks from now, but i had an idea. my motha has her work laptop here and we've got it hooked up to some wireless internet. since i've never truly had the opportunity to liveblog top model because of my devotion to desktop computers, i thought i'd try it out. so let's do this....it's not really "live" because a) i'm about 6 hours behind everyone and b) i dvr'd this three hours ago. but i'm still typing as i go, whereas usually i've seen the episode once before i rewatch to write about it. this should be fun right??

previously: tyra used $2 graphics to convey her futuristic theme. "the photoshoot took a fierce stand on getting out to vote (Banks, 2008)". Nikeysha has an attitude and is kind of clueless, but in the end, sharaun was insufferable and absolutely fake and gets sent home.

woah, what is this new ridic opening??? she just made a new one last cycle! get over yourself!! at least the girls look better than they usually do in the openings.

marjorie's picture was called first last week, and kicks off the new tradition of getting her photo displayed in the house for a week. tyra mail -- something about twisting yourself. oh god. oh god. please don't let this mean benny ninja. i can't take benny nin---NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

ugh, sheena. for some reason everyone loves this girl but i cannot stand her. the girls are going to pose in fabric tubes (?). benny and some australian contortionist show some examples before the girls take a stab at it.

more tyra mail. lauren monterey jack says that she thinks their challenge might have something to do with posing. gee, what makes her think that. clark is dared to kiss elina, who you may remember has a huge crush on clark. elina jizzes all over the jacuzzi. hannah (who?) is all close minded and thinks isis is icky. god, get over it, she's a person. hannah says something a little offensive about how she's a stereotypical white girl and therefore doesn't like "walking into a room going wooo" with her hands in the air. (or something) brittany lays down the law to dumb close minded hannah and it makes me loooove her.

analeigh, who seems like the nicest girl in the world, helps distract isis while isis gives herself her injection. how sweet. the challenge for the girls is to use some pink-haired designer's accessories and pose "fiercely". the winner gets a bag...? the girls have varying degrees of success. Elina wins the challenge. She makes out with her crush and she wins a challenge? This is her day!

The self-described ethnic girls get all worked up about hannah's comments. they call everyone together and point blank ask hannah if she's a racist. hannah is all "thanks for your critique, but i'm going to bed" and sweet sweet analeigh comforts her. all hannah is thinking is that these girls are trying to hurt her, instead of thinking about why they would've have gotten the idea of her being racist from her comment. hannah then compares it to "gang rape" and "gang violence", which isn't really going to help her case.

this week's photo shoot will take place on a hot air balloon, and the girls will be posing off of a ladder hanging over its side. lauren cheddar is up first. the hot air balloon shits the bed, so they have to put the ladder on a crane and it's like a thousand times easier this way. lauren swiss does well, and is followed by elina, who also nails it (it's her day!). analeigh has some problems, sheena takes it to burlesque, isis struggles a bit, nikeysha is kinda meh, brittany looks beautiful, but has a little trubby. joslyn is fierce. clark comes and goes, hannah is forgettable and please stop talking about how you are from a small town in alaska, samantha doesn't work her garment well, mckey is totally awks (hard to shadowbox on a ladder)...marjorie seems to do well.

panel: nikeysha gets called out for being too thin. i was thinking how she needs to eat a sandwich. sheena keeps getting called a ho. brittany reminds me of someone but i just can't place it. sheena gets asked if her boobs are fake and she says no. she then comes back down and tells them that she was lying and that she got her boobs done when she was younger. bold.

there's this weird promo for cycle 1's shannon, who has been signed to elite. oh great. go ahead and congratulate yourself for shannon's success, top model...i'm sure her being on your show 5 years ago is what got her recently signed to elite model management.

Lauren limberger is called first and gets her photo displayed for the next week. she's followed by elina, joslyn, marjorie, mckey, samantha, sheena, hannah, clark, brittany, and analeigh. it's down to isis and nikeysha, and come on. there is no way they are getting rid of isis this early. nikeysha's film is mediocre, and she has weird behavior. isis came into panel looking beat up. isis of course gets her photo. nikeysha is so sad. aww. EAT A BURGER.

next week: makeovers!!!

stoopid birds

my mother lives on the fifteenth floor of an apartment building with a lanai (hawaiian for balcony). we used to have two cats (we have just one now :\) that hated each other and who also had different ailments requiring different food for each. because of this, my mom put one of the cats' food bowls on the lanai, and the other in the kitchen. while this was semi-effective in keeping the cats apart, it would often attract mooching birds looking for a free meal and a drink of water. before both of our cats were ill, they were great at chasing the birds away. a couple of times, my mom even came home to a living room full of feathers. once, our cats were kind enough to kill the bird and leave the carcass in the middle of the room like a trophy. however, as the cats got older and sicker, the birds would feel more comfortable taking advantage. they would work in teams -- one bird would distract the cats while another would swoop in, land on the edge of the food bowl, and start his meal. sneaky bastards. after our second cat died earlier in the year, his bowl was removed from the balcony. the birds did not get the message and they still come around looking for a snack. since there is no bowl for them to eat out of, they just march right on into the apartment looking for food. my mother has perfected her war cry to scare them off, but because there is no threat to them from our remaining feline, they still feel free to waltz right in when no one's home. today, they took it too far.

we got home from our day full of adventures, and i noticed a mark on the rug. i assumed it was a little vomit pile from our sick little mandy, but when i got closer i saw that it was actually the shit of a bird. a stupid fucking bird moseyed on in to our humble abode, saw that there was no food for him, and shat right in the middle of the floor. SO RUDE.

gon fishin'

a few orders of business here...first of all, i arrived on my home island a few hours ago. what does this mean for you, do you ask? well, it means that i will get to flaunt a tan when and if i see you in a couple weeks. it also means that, even though i will be starting up with the top model recaps, i'm probably going to have to sit out the first three eps. do you care?

secondly, my mumsy presented me with two sheets of paper that she found whilst cleaning her office. apparently, i was jonesin to type on a typewriter, so i created these two masterpieces. while i don't remember composing these particular pieces, i do remember that it was probably around age 18 or 19, and i can confirm that i have a hard time resisting the allure of a typewriter. so, as a peace offering for my likely absence over the next ten days, i leave you with both pieces in their entirety. i will try to reproduce them exactly as they appeared when written, but some typos only typewriters can produce.

Why I Hate Aunt Flo
A novel by Sara Martinez

"Aunt Flo as she is called by the kids, is a very uncomfortable part of the month for most female members of the human population. She brings with her pain, discomfort, mood swings, and always leaves a mess. Aunt Flo always outstays her welcome, usually staying long past any amount of time that she was invited for...which she usually isn't. The few times that women are happy or excited to see Aunt Flo are the times when they had unprotected sexual activities and are fearing that they might be pregnant. Then-and only then- is Aunt Flo welcomed into the house of femininity with open arms.

NOt only does Aunt Flo cause cause pain and discomfort, but she can often cause a big mess. If a woman is expecting her Aunt Flo lightly, she may be surprised when she findsthathAunt Flo has gawned a little weight. Fortunatlly, different companies make different size mattress pads to suit the weight of Aunt Flo, however heavy or light she may be.

The n One of the things that I hate most about Aunt Flo is that she always prevents me from doing anything fun. Whenever she comes for a visit, I always h ave to tend to her, andonly her, needs. I cantt swim or ride horses or do much physical exercise, especially if she is particularly heavy during that pariicuaar visit.p It is unfortunate that this poor Aunt is so reviled amongst the female population, but, h like many relatives, she has to be put up with for the amount of time she is visiting. At least she only visits once a month and not just once a week.

THEEND

*This novel was inspired by thefilm Wonder Boys. I really wanted to type on a typewriter and the pain of Aunt Flo is preventing me from going swimming tonih tonight. I alway also like the sound that a typewriter makes when you are typing on it. I hope you enjoyed this novel. Be aware of any upcoming chapters. The next wone is tentatively titles WHY I HATE HEATHEER AND HER SILLY SILLY WAYS, and the one after that will most likely be entitled THE CUTEST THING WAS WHEN JOEY REALIZED THAT A BABY KANGAROO IS CALLED A JOEY.


WHY I HATE HEATHER a second novel by Sara Martinez

Today, Heather was as big a brat as ever. After reading a book, she refused to do anymore work. So I took away her recess privileges...and that's when the teacher had to step in. The teacher still had trouble and called the parents, and I was angry angry angry. Oh Heather, you little tormenter, you. Why must i live with you four hours a day for 6yweeks of my life.

Chapter 2 to come soon.

lobster question

so, you guys know how i feel about lobsters, right? I was watching swingtown the other night and somebody said that lobsters grow a pound a year, and that lobsters can live to be 40 years old. now, i didn't really verify this, so i don't know if it's true -- i don't know anything about sea creatures -- however, if it is, does that mean there are some 40 year old 40 lb lobsters hanging around somewhere? i swear to god, if i ever came face to face with one of those--- i can't even think about this. oh man, i hope giant snakes never enter that nightmare. oh shit.

my wardrobe adventures

i was working yesterday doing some wardrobe returns for a shoot i was on last week. it's basically easy stuff, you just take bags of clothes back to stores and hope no one gives you shit about it. i had seven stores to hit yesterday, and had a few interesting things happen along the way.

first off, i headed to the offices to pick up my cargo for the day. whilst i was waiting for dear friend bill to retrieve me from the lobby, who did i see come to greet a food delivery guy? None other than fave best week ever blogger MimiCoco (accompanied by third fave bwe blogger alex blagg).

next i took it to the streets to find meself a cab. i was picked up by my first lady cabbie -- the unicorns of cab drivers. i would be way ahead if life were a scavenger hunt.

my fourth store was one i knew would be a little difficult, mainly because the purchase was made in cash, and i had two bags of stuff (as opposed to the 5 - 10 items i'd had from some of the other stores). i walked in and took note of my options -- registers one and two were close to the exit and both had younger girls manning them. registers three and four were opposite the door and were being operated by two gentleman. i knew that in this case, whether the boys were gay or straight, i had a better chance with them. so i headed to the boys, randomly chose one of the two (side note: both gay), and started off with my planned "i apologize ahead of time for this, it will be annoying." in response i got a couple of detached 'it's no problem' and 'don't worry' responses from him. however, as he noticed the mountain of clothes and jewelry i was returning, he got a little more attitudey.

i had my nice face on this whole time since he seemed to be tolerating me, but when his displeasure started manifesting in bitchily telling people behind me that they'd be better off in another line because 'this is gonna take forever', audible 'whispering' to his coworkers that this was paid for in cash, and shaking his head after circling each item on the receipt, my nice face started transforming into bitch face. after all, i wasn't the one that bought all this stuff and was returning it. this is merely my job, and i shouldn't feel bad about doing my job, especially when i apologized off the bat and this guy is slow burning into bitchville, usa. so i stop feeling bad about it, and in a last ditch effort to win him over, i start looking just as annoyed as he is in hopes to portray to him that this isn't fun for me either.

finally, as he is nearing the bottom of the stack, he bitchfaces to me "was there something WRONG with ALL of this?". i have my backstory all planned out and respond, 'i don't know, my boss is a personal shopper and she's just having me do these for her.' ding ding ding! right answer. he immediately lightens up and sides with me. "Well, SHE should really be doing this herself, not putting it on you." "i know i know", i say, "but i'm just an assistant". he continues in disbelief that people get paid to shop for other people, and have assistants on top of that! he tells me he knows how it is, because he used to be an assistant to a stylist, so he's been there before. we commiserate over there not really being any good way to do it, just to be as nice as possible and try to tell the cashier the situation so they don't hate you. we talk a little more as we're waiting for his manager to get the cash out for me. the manager comes by and starts counting out the bucks with like, one hundred dollar bill and the rest in small bills (it was more than a few hundred i needed back). so he's acting all annoyed about this, and my new best friend the cashier comes to my rescue by saying "it's not her fault, she has a crazy boss." i love when i can successfully win someone over.

lastly, as i'm exhaustedly heading back to the office on the train, i see a man across the way get up from his seat, kneel in front of the seats across from him (and to my left), pick up a metrocard from the ground, and offer it to the lady sitting there. i guess the first lady he offered it to said it wasn't hers, and he offered it to the next lady. from where i was sitting though, it looked like maybe the lady hadn't seen him do it because he kind of went out of his way to point it out again and ask if she'd dropped it. for some reason, this made me assume that the lady was blind, and when i looked in the window reflection, i saw what appeared to be a golden retriever wearing sunglasses. my mind said "oh, she must be blind, because she has a seeing eye dog". but then the guy moved back to his seat and i was able to actually see that what i thought was a dog with sunglasses was actually a lady with big blond hair with her sunglasses perched atop her head. i giggle to myself and continue on my train ride. it was not until TEN MINUTES LATER that i realized how ridiculous it was for me to not only assume that a seeing eye dog would be wearing sunglasses, but to also not find a dog wearing sunglasses on the subway odd.

sometimes i worry about my brain.

the adventures of alma cambodia

i am about to tell a tale based on true events, with "real people" involved. so i will preface this tale by saying Alma Cambodia's name has been changed. also, the friend of mine who appears in this story will be referred to as "look at the fountain", or "fountain" for short.

so a couple of days ago, i get a friend request from one Alma Cambodia on one of those social networking sites all the kids have these days. I briefly glance at her page and see that she claims to be a Moanalua class of 2000 alum, like myself and Fountain. i also notice that Fountain has already accepted her friend request, so instead of investigating further, i accept that as proof enough that i probably know this girl and approve her request. just for good measure, i send Fountain an im. This begins the IM portion of our evening:

ME: i have a question for you to answer whenever you are around, if that is not now: who the eff is alma cambodia?
FOUNTAIN: i asked [mutual friend] the same question
i have no idea but apparently she knows us and people we know
do you happen to have your yearbook?
ME: no they are all at home.
oh wait
you know i might have senior year, lemme see
god look at all these signatures i'm soooo popular
who are all these people?
somebody named trina signed my yearbook and also said "i know you'll be a great mom someday'. what a thing to say. and who's trina?
ok sorry, what was i doing
she's not in here
i think she's lying when she says she was class of 00
FOUNTAIN: this girl isn't in the yearbook?
maybe she was named something else
ME: i accepted her request and looked at her pictures and she does not look familiar at all to me. i mean, most of these guys that i've forgotten about i'll at least remember their faces
FOUNTAIN: same here, i accepted her request but she doesn't look familiar.
i think you should send her a message asking her who she is
ME: i accept your friendship, but praytell, who the fuck are you
FOUNTAIN: i know seriously
maybe she was one of those group of tranny guys...you know the one that had their own personal pages. see if she's in any of those pictures in the personal pages...
ME: fo sho
hmm it doesn't look like it
though i must say, we had some pretty convincing trannies
aside from one who had a bad wig
FOUNTAIN: yeah we did
ME: man who is this bitch! i need to get to the bottom of this!
FOUNTAIN: i know it's really bothering me
ME: i feel like she's going to keep adding people we know and everyone will be like 'i don't know who this is, but we have the same friends, so i must know her!'
FOUNTAIN: i don't recognize anyone in her pictures, and no one has written on her wall. there has got to be a reason she keeps requesting all us moanalua folk
oh look she's online. send her an IM
ME: i'm not doing it
FOUNTAIN: well neither am i
ME: of course she's online, have you noticed she changes her status every 8 minutes
FOUNTAIN: she's requesting all our friends
ME: maybe she isn't a person but is actually a computer virus, that's taken on a life of her own and is just looking for friends because the internet gets lonely
FOUNTAIN: and apparently chosen moanalua alum to stalk
ME: she must've read our awesome wikipedia page
we should open up a private eye office
FOUNTAIN: but we would need to come up with a clever name
ME: oh i think we could definitely come up with a clever name
private ojos
FOUNTAIN: there's something fishy about this alma character
and i would have remembered a name like alma
ME: there is something way fishy about this alma character
the only things named alma are cows
we need to get to the bottom of this
FOUNTAIN: alright...maybe i need to look deeper into this profile
i wonder if this girl has a myspace...i'm gonna check
ME: good idea, i'm going to google her
FOUNTAIN: see...ojos privados...or whatever
ME: and in our tv show (we'll have one), before each case, we'll put our hands in the middle and go "BIEN!!"
FOUNTAIN: i'm glad i'm not the only weirdo this is bugging
ME: it's really bugging me! usually i'll at least recognize something and be like 'alright i may or may not have talked to you, but at least i recognize you'
i just googled "alma cambodia" moanalua and there were no results
FOUNTAIN: nothing on myspace
ME: i also just googled her full name and there were zero results on google
that's never happened, everyone at least has one thing under their names, even if it isnt' them. she can't be the only alma cambodia that does or does not exist!
FOUNTAIN: damn, her bday isn't posted. curse you alma!!
ME: YOU'LL NEVER OUTSMART US ALMA!!
it says she took her stepdad's name
i wonder if that was early in life or a later decision
FOUNTAIN: maybe she changed it later...so she had a diff last name in hs
ME: also, she reads the bible. loser! jk. jk god
FOUNTAIN: her profile also makes her sound about as smart as a rock
ME: i've met smarter rocks
also, why would she list like all her personal info and then be all "like i'd tell you" about her job? i'll tell you why, she's a stripper
she likes jazz bands, are you sure you don't know her?
FOUNTAIN: ok...just because she "dances" to jazz music doesn't mean she knows how to play it
ME: alma cambodia has no idea what kind of havoc she's wreaking
and probably everyone she's friend requested is doing what we're doing now, and she's clueless picking her toes in hawaii while 14 people are googling her. check google trends tomorrow, she'll be there
FOUNTAIN: you know i have another questions, if she has all these friends, why are none of them her friends on facebook???? tell me that. she wouldn't just join facebook on her own accord. you should have friends on facebook to join it
the plot thickens....
ME: hey, that is a good point you make
FOUNTAIN: ok i'm going to send her a message...help me draft it
ok how bout this:
hey thanks for adding me as a friend but i'm having a little trouble remembering you. did you graduate from moanalua in 2000? who did you hang out with?
it doesn't sound rude does it?
ME: no it doesn't...i think it's very perfect, friendly and curious and not like we're about to crack our first case as a p.i. team
FOUNTAIN: ok message sent...maybe it will only take her 2 minutes to respond
seeing as how she's online.
(a couple minutes pass)
damn she isn't responding. maybe she doesn't exist
ME: haha, she's like "oh fuck.....uh i don't actually know these people...uh...no one was supposed to question me"
FOUNTAIN: we called her bluff
ok i'm falling asleep...i will stop by your coffee shop tomorrow to say hello...and hopefully by then we will have solved this caper...



Ok, so that was the best way for me to demonstrate how this obsession started and blossomed. Fountain did come to my cookie shop the next day, and we were hoping at that point we'd have cracked the case. unfortunately, alma cambodia never returned fountain's message. there is no proof of her ever attending our high school or graduating with us, we have each asked at least three others if they have ever heard of or seen this girl before, and nobody has. does she exist? and if so, why is she pretending to have graduated with us?? we want answers!!!!

the perils of living alone

the other night, i was reminded of my biggest fear of living alone -- being the victim of some freak (or normal) fatal accident in my own home, and nobody knowing i've perished. of course, that's just me getting all dramatic, but let me tell you what prompted this.

i was making myself some delicious chicken with artichoke and mushrooms for dinner after a long day at the cookie shoppe. i was tired and it was late, but i was thrilled for this tasty dinner. everything was going smoothly until it came to introducing the artichokes into the mix. you know how goya cans always seem like they've been sitting on your grocery shelf for at least 15 years? well, i had a goya can of artichokes with a pull tab top (like cat food). i started to open it, and it only came up a small amount before refusing to budge. i readjusted the placement of my hands, got ready to give it a big pull, and as i was thinking to myself "this is a bad idea", the top popped off in one fell swoop and lodged itself into my thumb. my immediate instinct was to fling the top across the room like a ninja star and cradle my burning thumb to my side. a second later i realized i was probably bleeding and didn't want to stain my beloved catwoman shirt, so i brought my hand out in front of me and checked out the damage.

and oh bloody blood was i bleeding. luckily i had already washed the dishes, so i could head over to the sink without getting my dna all over my plates. i shoved my thumb under running water but it just kept on bleeding -- i couldn't even tell how big the cut was. i think this is the point things probably got a little comical if you were watching the whole situation and were not me. i figured i probably needed to try and stop the bleeding so i reached up for a paper towel. my paper towel stand is set up to be easily accessible for my right hand, but not my left. so, i'm trying to rip a damn paper towel off with my left hand and not bleed all over the kitchen when i realize i have to flip my chicken so it won't burn. this will prove to be another daunting task for my left hand. it is also another comical scene because as i'm flipping, i'm trying to hold a bloody, paper towel-wrapped thumb above my heart. once the chicken is done, i turn the stove off, retrieve the can top from behind the refrigerator, glare at it and throw it away. I then go to sit down so i don't get lightheaded. at this point, i instant message cts (and real life) family member ricky, and tell him that if he doesn't hear from me in five minutes, i've fainted in a pool of my own blood.

fortunately, i was able to stop the bleeding long enough for me to throw a band-aid on (but there wasn't enough of a window for me to apply neosporin, MOM) and finish up my delicious dinner. this all happened on saturday night, and it was only today that i was able to take a look at the cut. it wasn't that large, but it was deep enough that (TMI alert!!) the wound hasn't closed yet and i can make it talk with a hilarious voice.

the moral of the story is: if you haven't heard from me in a while, assume that i am lying helpless on the floor and send assistance.

never stop, never quit

my second post on the better blog went up this week. check it out if you're interested in how i kept myself going when i was unemployed and felt useless. :)