Showing posts from February, 2010

Pissed Pissedofferson

Here is a list of things to never, ever say to people: To the heartbroken: -You'll meet someone! (Really, you know this?  You're a clairvoyant elder?  Then tell me when.) -What a jerk!  (Umm...there's probably a reason why there's heartache and not cheering.) -You have plenty of time!  (Perhaps on your timeline). To the grieving: -It'll be okay!  (REALLY????  FANTASTIC!!) -It could've been worse...(It also could've been better.) -So and so has it worse.  (Now I have two sads.) To those commenting on me watching Saturday Night Live: - ...not like back when it was good! Thoughtless Things People Have Actually Said to Me -When I was too stressed and lost a lot of weight: "Just 10 more pounds to go!" -When I got lithium poisoning: "You're looking great!  Whatever you're doing, keep it up!" -When I got down to my healthy, natural weight:   "So you have about 30lbs left to lose?"

Frau Butterworth

     Back when I lived with Liza in 1930's Berlin... That's me at 20 years old.  This picture was taken at one of my notorious "pimp n' ho" parties in  Germany.  I am only 20something for another 40 minutes or so.  Instead of dressing like a prostitute, I plan on wearing pink sweatshirts with kittens on them, denim jeans with a nine inch zipper and elastic waist band, white keds decorated with puff paints...oh yeah, and scrunchies.  Scrunchies galore.         Earlier today, I put Smart Balance spread on my pancakes and covered them with sugar-free maple syrup.  As soon as my mom reminded me it's my birthday tomorrow, I cried out, "What am I doing!?" and grabbed the butter and Mrs. Butterworths.  I'm still invincible till midnight.      

Muffins are Tops

You know, I really hope to have kids someday but if I never get pregnant, that's fine by me.  Perhaps I'll marry a man with kids of his own and it'll be like when I buy shampoo and it comes with a bonus conditioner.  You know what's really awesome?  Adoption.  It's like someone baked a cake for nine months and then when it was done, I said, "Thanks!  I'll be taking that."  Yeah, I hope to adopt lots of muffins.      

On the Edge of the 17th

Despite looking like a Playboy Bunny at 19, I've never met a republican rich enough worth marrying.  I imagine on February 17th, when I turn 30, my body will suddenly melt, and I'll walk around with a turkey neck and jowls...  My unmentionables will fit me like sausage casing...   The men who liked me last year will suddenly be dating women two years younger, 15lbs lighter, and two inches taller...   Sugar Daddy qualifications will officially be at the 50+ mark...  The milk in the 'fridge will shift from 2% to 1%...   When teenage boys point me out to their friends in Fred Meyer's, I'll be referred to as "the cougar"...   If I smile and wave back, I'll be referred to as "the pervert"...   Long bangs and tinted glasses will be my style again, not to mask a glassy stare, but crows feet and dark bags...   Married men will admit to being married...   My premature graying will no longer be considered "premature"