Oh The Douchebaggery

Yeah, I had to check the proper spelling on Wikipedia.

I wasn't raised in a barn, yo.

As if things weren't bad enough---
Now we have the mother flippin' swine flu.

I'm already eating bread sandwiches for breakfast lunch and dinner, have a sunburn that limits all of my outdoor activities (and mama likes the outdoors!), got called "mature" recently, and can't manage to commit to a fully funded trip to beautiful Nicaragua per my fear of flying...

Now I have another reason to stew.

Way to drive a nail into the casket, asshole pathogen carriers!

I was thinking, "I am immune. I don't eat pork".

Turns out, and I am no member of the C.D.C., that's not how you get it.

NOPE!

You get it by walking around and breathing.

Awesome!
I do that almost all the time.

Man, my timing is priceless.

The last blog I wrote was all about my recent fascination with the television show Cops.

And all the while I am sitting behind the relative safety of my laptop eating crackerjacks and applying lotion.

I am a pretty lucky girl.

I have had a few run-ins with the 5.0, and always manage to squeeze my way out of a jam.
I have an unparalleled ability to cue crocodile tears at will.

Take that, Sucka!

So yesterday was just unbelievably gorgeous up in the R.I.

Day at the beach, anyone?

My co-conspirator and I took off to S. Kingston early in the A.M..

I dunno' if it was the fact that I was pretty close to full-frontal (holla' bathing suit season--I equally love and hate you!) or that it was early enough that the sun had yet to do its thing....
but it was chilly and I required a blanket.

I threw that shit on myself and fell fast asleep.

4 hours---COUNT 'EM---four hours later I awoke.
My blanket/sun-shield had long since been discarded, unveiling what can only be described as a wicked pissah' bad sunburn.

You'd think I would learn.

Nah, not so much.

The fact that I got sincerely lobstered is not the surprise twist.

NO!

My friend and I got busted doing things that may just be construed as, ahem, illegal.

Our cop was sooo genuinely cool that he might just have ruined the reputation of R.I. cops everywhere .

So, though I may have skin that rivals that of an inside out pig...

I am not in jail.

Word!

I try not to frequent the FOX network too often....save Family guy and the Simpsons...
'cause I don't want to contribute to their fascist organization.

That said, every once in a great while, I get a hankering for Cops.

I'd describe it as that "apple nugget" feeling---KRS.1, if you are out there you know what I am talking about....

My B.F. and I used to visit Checkers fast food ,late at night---in high school.
They had a dessert called apple nuggets---deep fried slices of apple.

They were so good when you were eating them, but hours later you would feel the hurt.

So, Yeah.
I have that same relationship with the television show, Cops.

It hurts so good.

I am just laming around being completely unproductive and watching shows online when I come across an old episode of Cops.

Hallelujah!

Said episode featured my ex---you know who you are!!

I sent a link to aforementioned B.F. and she agreed, it was indeed the douchetard formerly known as my ex-boyfriend

HA!

I'm sorry for your injuries.
You shouldn't have resisted arrest.

But a wee part of me is happy to see that your life has taken a turn for the worse.

Apple Nuggets!

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the anus customer (black S.U.V.) at the Cumberland Farms on Hope Street for his obvious interest in my well-being.

Yeah, guarded insults are my specialty.

What I really want to say is, "Thank you for making me feel worthless and degraded".

Here's to you, douche-nozzle!

So, I was on my way to a potluck at around 8 p.m. (sorry, I was late, but mommy had some primping to do..i.e. I brushed my hair) when I saw my car's maintenance light come on.

I pull over to check my fluid levels, as any one who OWNS A MOTOR VEHICLE is wont to do.

I am hindered by the dark...can't find any relevant dipsticks and, so, go inside to borrow a flashlight.

Everybody there knows me.
It's where I go to score my cigarettes, mountain dew, farmfresh coffee, and other vices.

Oh, and, every once in a while, I buy some motor oil....
Purchases that keep both me and my car going.

But, I suppose, because I am dressed for a night out, I am a target.
Who knows?

I am looking under my hood with the help of said flashlight when some troglodyte driving an environment killer shouts across the packed parking lot, "You need help, Honey"?

I say no.

Shouldn't that have been enough?

He shouts again.

"I just don't think a pretty lady should be messing around under the hood".

Let's get two things straight..

1) I have been operating a motor vehicle for over half of my life. It would be completely irresponsible if I didn't know how to conduct basic maintenance on my car.

Please!

I have driven all over this map.

2) Is that some kind of sick euphemism...and if it is...what kind of women are you attracted to?
Those who can't do for themselves?

I will admit that I managed to burn my first car into oblivion.
But I was sixteen.
Shit tends to happen.

I was merely changing my oil when this fuck decided to ruin my night.

Every three seconds he kept cat-calling me with an "offer of help".

And yeah,I swear, I am not bitter.

But every time I am checking under my hood I get some offer of "assistance".

It's never from a lady.
No.

It's always from some dude who thinks that I have some physiological retardation when it comes to my car's upkeep.

So, ass-hat...

I managed to get my car back in working order, short skirt and all.

Oh, wait....(3). Thanks for calling me pretty.

Summer wedding?

Holy effin' , I don't even know.

My hometown is on fire.
In fact, my brother's house burned down last night.

Cars were melting and, according to my pops, an entire county is demolished.

Best news I heard all day was that my brother was thousands of miles away in Nicaragua.

That's the good news.

I suppose the bad news is that a fairly substantial portion of Horry County people lost their homes.

But so far, (knock wood), nobody has lost a life.

My love and prayers, people.

And, I know I often talk shiz about the area in which I was reared (and let's be honest...Myrtle Beach is indeed the Redneck Riviera) I am obliged to thank god for it's ultimate safety.

I say a little prayer tonight for you, bro.
And I sincerely hope that your neighbors can see through the smoke and fog and realize that, the good news is, they are still here.

And, Mikey, if you are reading this..call me...

I love you.

I wrote a few new blogs which g-mail has been unable to locate.

I will try my damnedest in the a.m.

For now, I'll leave you with my thoughts for the day...
And, oh...my recent musings are colored by the truth that I have been looking for a job for far too long.


Customer service sucks if you are over the age of 22...

Stripping is almost never an option (no hate!)

Degrees are useful only when you run out of three-ply...

I am currently applying to jobs that I am way over and under qualified for.

You can trust that I will report back.

Shit, I thought it was scientifically impossible...
But I do actually have steam erupting from my ears.

ME MAD!!!
ME NEED JOB.