A pictorial:
Wine flight: The one in the middle-ish is the one described as tobacco and raw meat, I THINK
Smoked Salmon, cream cheese, mozzarella and capers pizza. And lot of crushed red pepper.
Not kidding, you guys!
It was very hard for me. Having a bloody mary and fish noodle soup with my mom to make it better. I even cried, what the hell?
Also, leaning against his shoulder was a bad idea. I remembered each bone. But I still wanted to punch him in the face (dating a 20 yr old you idiot you’re 29, she’s not even done with her CORE CLASSES are you srs), and I lovingly gave him the bird as we parted ways after he made one of his trademark “comments”. Always with the “comments”, that guy. But we laughed over it and I wouldn’t get back with him unless he gave me a minimum of $15,552.
[Edit: BTW, that is a very odd combo (spicy bloody mary mix / vodka / soup with fish, pineapple, tomatoes, and celery). Actually, that sounds like the best combo. I want a REDO. Sadly, I must actually....BRACE FOR IT....go in to WORK today and teach the little rugrats. The 60-yr old rugrats. ::hides in closet::]
So I made my regularly scheduled offer on Twitter for someone to purchase me, but today I found myself actually BARTERING via Twitter DM.
“I don’t know if it’s more ‘lol’ or ‘fml’” is a phrase I’ve had to use more often than I’d prefer lately.
Do you want to eat this? Do you think *I* want to eat this? I’ve been subsisting on Cheerios, salad, egg whites and boiled chicken for like 2 months. So I made “spaghetti”. Or “spaghetti soup”. Whatever.
I quit the PhD program! I’m saving up money and moving. Where should I go? It’ll take me until at least January, but I need to plan and shit. Since I quit, I’ve been sleeping ten hours per day. MINIMUM, BITCHES. I’m still teaching, but that’s only 3 days a week, Kick Fucking Ass.
Jessamin kindly sent me this vid of a retard who is cooking, AND I THINK SHE IS TRYING TO SAY SOMETHING.
There are certain things about my ex that I miss, and most all of them deal with administrivia, aka changing light bulbs and MAKING ME THE FUD. He made dinner every night because he’s a little girl, but we’ve been friendly lately so I feel bad about ragging on him for being such a LITTLE GIRL. Anyway, I’m learning how to cook!
Recipe for boiled chicken:
1) Buy a chicken
2) Defrost it, try to get it all defrosted (even in the center), or you get AIDS
3) Boil it until you’re like, so sure that’s it’s cooked that it’s like really dry
4) Put ketchup on it
5) SWEET BERRY WINE. “Because I SIT WITH IT”
when JenEffect and I hang out…
I eat your queso. I eat it up!
There is some queso in me. I want no one else to have it. I hate most people.
We are fucking pigz.
Filed under: Jesus Christ, eating food, gross, mental, what a dick, working
Some fuckin’ people, am I right?
Anyway, GROSS ALERT I went to the doctor because apparently I have a stye. So I asked him if it was an eye tumor, because at virtually every doctor visit I inquire about something that I think is probably a tumor. He is of Indian descent, and a very good doctor, but when I asked if he was sure it was not a tumor, he was like “LOL, It’s nott a tuh-moh!” a la Arnold. Then I was like HAHHAAHA cause that one never gets old for me, and he was like 
.
Anyway twat sprinkles, what kind of plants/animals/children did you guyz have for breakfast/lunch? I had a sandwich and a xanax, because Monday Meetings can suck my dick.
Do it like this.
So I changed themes over there this morning and started playing with the new random button. Reading those old posts led me to the following conclusion:
Man I am fucking NUTS.
***UPDATE: So I’m a big asshole for doing this, but look what arrived in my electronic mailboxz today. You see? I WAS NOT KIDDING***
Look, I know these “Ice Cream Socials” are like one of the top ten annoyances according to the children of Darfur, but allow me to be shitty and comprain about having to attend these fucking things.
You can’t really say, “No. No, I don’t really want to eat a bowl of ice cream in the middle of the fucking day with you guys. And honestly, I don’t understand why you would want to either, unless you have a badass metabolism or you’re 5.”
Know why you can’t say that? Because it seems uppity and rude, and unless you’re morbidly obese, no one will understand why you won’t just eat a fucking bowl of ice cream in the middle of the day. If it were like a once-a-year thing, fine, whatever, but it’s not. Plus the name is pretty up there with the cheesiness. ”Ice Cream Social, you guyz!!! Toot toot, All Aboard!” The expression on my face in reaction to that was a blank stare with lots of blinking (in the best case and I am guessing.)
As in, will they make other people’s genitalia afraid of me?
Well I do not care. THEY WILL BE MINE. I am so super-cereal. I just don’t know what to wear them with. A really shiny trash bag?
J. K.’s. I’ll find something. Unrelatedily, I’ve decided to start chronicling all food items that enter my mouth each day. There’s a page for it here at .What.I.Ate.Today., and it’s linked to on the sidebar.
So he got dropped from Kellog. Who fucking cares.
I AM GETTING CROTCHETY AND OLD. I don’t think I used to bitch so much about everything. Isn’t this what really old people do?
So I tried not to look at this while I ate my dinner last night:
I’m not really into tentacles. At all. Would you describe something as “tenticular”, “betentacled”, or “awash with tentacle”?
My friend’s friend has taken us all to school. BURGER-ORDERING SCHOOL. Or FATGIRL SCHOOL.
Bravo. That is nasty.
Score is calculated as follows (begin with +10 for the holidays):
- Intoxication level of the speaker: x 3
- Mention of a medical condition: +1
- Unnecessary specificity: x 6
- Playing hand-squeezy w/new prayer-neighbor during moments of hilarity: -10
- Eyes remain closed: +5
- Eyes do not roll back up into head: +20
Filed under: Iowa, bored, chillin today, eating food, farts, gross, mental, oh fuck, old people, scotch, trips, you
Relatively Constant Circumstances:
- Softwater
- Going ANTIQUING against one’s will. Oh yeah I am being super-cereal about this
- Where is the tobasco? Do I have to eat the fish eggs
- Can I put this down your garbage disposal / do you like your dishes in the dishwasher facing North? [AGAIN, super-cereal] / where do I put my empty glass bottle?
- Had to leave all my recreational “God made dirt => dir’t don’t hurt” plant life at home
- B&W movies, of which I don’t have an across-the-board prob with, but who watches “The Day the Earth Stood Still” in its original version when you have 20-something guests in your home?
- Sneaking alochol. Hoping no one planned to put scotch in their eggnog, as I have stolen and hidden it in the basement guestroom.
2) 
3) 
7)
Consequences of the Above C ircumstances
- I cannot get clean, no matter if I rinse long enough to freeze myself out when 6 other people are taking/have already taken showers. Filmy soap scum is an evil, slippery force.
- I’ll show you the rest of my “finds” shortly.
- I am not satiated. Not hardly. The W.T. in me doesn’t like fish eggs.
- I don’t want to be a pretentious dick about your refusal to recycle so let’s all get uncomfs when I ask where to put the empty glass .
- I could handle this whole thing in a more civil manner if I had some herbal assistance and had decided to bring my Wii. My lungs are sort of thanking me, though.
- Actually, who wants to see either version? OK, if you’re a guy with the guy retard gene, may-hap you wanna see the remake with KEANU. Full disclosure, I have the retarded chick gene that has caused me to watch Kate Hudson’s “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days” 130492x.
- When there isn’t 50 people up in the kitchen, must spike whatever is on hand, and with a quickness.
Bonus glass of FAKE WINE of TRICKERY:
P.S. I hope you guys hearted your ecards if you requested one. If you still want one, send me an email at halfassitude at gmail. Wuv you guys, would rather hang out with you via interton any day.
Our Date
1) You buy me raw oysters. I impress you and tell you not to bother looking for an oyster’s penis; it’s not there. I explain to you the “gonads” situation, leaving out that I learned all of this from one of my commenters.
2) I attempt to eat a raw oyster and promptly vomit. You gently tease me as you clean up the mess.
3) You sit and watch me drink, a la Rufus Wainwright: 14th Street
4) We go to my home and play outdated video games on my PS2 (Tony Hawk, Grand Theft Auto San Andreas) as we watch The Learning Channel on the second tv.
5) I show you the cutest dresses I’ve found online last week. You are thrilled and provide meaningful feedback.
6) THE END. Your ride arrives and takes you back to the institution.
Guys, do oysters have sex? Or do they make love. But seriously dudes, my google is broken or my fingertips are delicate and I still want to know how they reproduce. I’ve never seen “oyster penis” on any “Bizarre Foods” type of show, so I’m assuming the bebes arrive via stork.
I was facing a giant plate of raw oysters yesterday (with no penises – I checked), a situation I continue to put myself in only to grimace my way through. What other things sound good, but actually aren’t?
- Degree collecting
- Substituting powdered coffee creamer for milk in scrambled eggs or anything else
- Eating raw ginger
- Letting a pug sleep with you on the hammock (cause every time you need to get up, it’s precarious and like Pug Jenga — NOT a pug’s favorite game)
*I wore those candy-cane tights to work yesterday, and of course ran into my boss, his exec assistant, his mother, etc. They each seemed to be having conversation with my tights instead of with me. Just want 2 b me and wear authentic tights.
OMG T-Givingz 2oo8:
1) Uncle Robert* regaled us with tales of Istanbul in the 60’s, where you may:
a) wipe your butt with your finger, then have that fingernail cleaned and spritzed with perfume by a presumably very sad lady attendant, OR
b) participate in the “Wall of Spoons” method, where there’s this wall, and everyone has their own spoon.
Nice, right.
2) I started World War III, natch (see Fig. 4c). Not kidding, either. Sry. Can’t help it.
3) I decided to get a new T-Givz dress overnighted because I am a bratty little shithead (it’s below). My NEW FAVORITE CUST SRVC REP waived the overnight fee. I almost proposed. I’m standing on my ancient piano there. Know any elves? That shit needs tuned.
4) I had to watch the football >:O. Not cool, guys. Did not want.
FIg. 4c (via HRO (that linky not always so SFW))
How was your T-Givingz? I’ve been drinking way too much scotch lately/again. Hope I don’t grow a beard. Did you know you can put scotch in egg nog instead of whiskey? You totes can. Maybe that’s duh but I was pleasantly surprised.
*he’s not really anyone’s “Uncle”
Still ten pounds FATTIER since before I started working again, but better than the fifteen lb’s of McDonald’s I was carrying around. An actual MEDICAL DOCTOR once told me that if you poke the yoke out of an Egg McMuffin, it is “super healthy”. Not so, mon frere. Or maybe it’s to do with my local McDonald’s penchant for soaking things in butter.
Filed under: bored, chillin today, eating food, fashion, hammock, people I would sleep with, pug
My week. Warning about the 50 or so f-bombs: there are 50 or so f-bombs.
It was the official beginning of my weekend and I was sauced on margaritas. Sry. <3
Especially if purchased from the the price-inflating gas stations, and especially if you plan on drinking it. That Suze Orman organism is beginning to get to me. Bitch be makin’ me paranoid. Look, the cork wouldn’t even go back in (cause the wine is THAT BAD):
Mmm, can’t wait until noon. I think the saran-wrap-as-cork allows the spirit of the wine to mingle with the atmosphere in such a way that it is going to taste even more putrid. But tough times, they come-a-knockin’, and this American is ready and willing to answer the call. I think. I’ll let you know shortly.
