piecrust promises

VOTE!

What are you doing just sitting there?!  Why aren't you out standing in line?!

Go!  And if you already went, take someone who hasn't gone yet.

GO.

Design flaw

Resse's Peanut Butter Cups were not meant to be eaten one handed while driving.

Who should I speak to about this?

That's big...

I just sent an email with the following sentence in it:

"I'm so freaking excited and nervous I could poop."

Big things are happening around here.  Big things indeed.

Please enjoy the balance of your day...

...well thank you Mr. Automated Teller Machine.

How freaking clever is that? The "balance" of your day. Ha!

Classic!

Redundant

So this morning I am attempting to merge onto I-4 from the 408 (that would be where the road to purgatory intersects with the road to hell in case you aren't from around here) and there is a long line of cars waiting to budge in where possible.  The majority of people are doing the correct thing and letting a car in front of them and then moving along with their lives.

But then it's my turn and I've got my blinker on and I do the standard eye contact agreement with the car I'm about to get in front of in my side mirror. She looks back at me with no sign that she is about to turn into some interstate asshole with a serious love of road rage, freak breaking habits, and a passion for stomping the gas at inopportune times.  It looks like I'm about to safely merge onto the road...no harm, no foul.

But nooooo.  This fucking woman in a goddamn beige Taurus speeds up. She SPEEDS UP and nearly hits my bumper...so I've got no choice but to go back into the merge lane. (And I only mention the fact that the car was beige because it's just a sign of her normally dishrag personality gone wrong...who thinks that someone in a beige Taurus is going to suddenly be anything other than that blah friend that you get to do things for you without ever really having to put much effort into the relationship...kind of like the public library.  Now don't get me wrong, I love the public library...my point is that you don't expect something so meek to suddenly turn all bitchy on you.) (This analogy sounded good in my head.  Let's just forget I mentioned it.)

And then!!  And then...she flicks me off.  SHE FLICKS ME OFF.

Uh...really?  You're flicking me off?  Seriously?

I think you already managed to do that...cutting someone off is pretty much as big of a "fuck you" as one could muster.  But that obviously was not enough for this woman.  She needed to do a double fisted fuck you to make her feelings on merging known.

Maybe she just doesn't like Volkswagens.  Or babies in the backseat.  Or people with good car karma who are just trying to get to daycare before they stop serving breakfast because OMG it's pancake day and there is a certain child who will pull out her own eyes if she misses a single drop of the maple crack syrup.

Or maybe she was just tired of being a dishrag who drives a beige Taurus and she figured that a girl with pigtails driving a VW would be the least likely person on I-4 to pull out a shotgun and blow her rude ass away.

Well...she was right.  Shoot you for being a complete jerk? No.  Whine about you on the internet? Yes.

Take that!

Pretty please...

...watch the Presidential Debates tonight.

Even if you've never watched them before, think they are going to be boring as all hell, or if you think your vote doesn't count...just please, pretty please, watch them tonight.

This is a life changing election...this is not a normal, run of the mill, standard white guy election.  History is in the making...get in on it now.

For all of those who think your vote doesn't count (like I did a few years back) I promise you, this time it does.  I'm watching tonight even though I already have my candidate all picked out and I'm ready to vote right this second.  I'm watching so that I can make a more rational argument when people say they are voting for McCain...something other than, "He sucks ass! Durrrr!"

So clear your schedule, set your Tivo...this can't wait...and I guarantee that it's more important than whatever is rerunning on Bravo.

Whaattt? Seriously?

Have you all seen this?

Joel and I were sitting on the couch, watching Project Runway when that little gem appeared on our television screen.  I can't believe it isn't all over the blogosphere yet...

Are these people serious?  This whole commercial (and the website http://sweetsurprise.com/) seems to be a bit familiar...like tobacco company familiar.  Fine in moderation?  Seems like you can't read any label without high fructose corn syrup being at the top of the list...it's everywhere.  The only way to avoid the crap is by buying whole, natural food products and making things from scratch.

Americans eat more corn and more corn by-products than any other group of people in the world.  We also are the fattest and most disease ridden...and those numbers have only been skyrocketing in the last fifty years or so...right around the time that we started to chemicalize the shit out of our food.

I'll be totally honest here...my household isn't going to win any awards or be the poster family for healthy eating.  I love fried high fructose corn syrup covered in trans fat, sautéed in MSG, and then sprinkled with red dye #40 just as much as the next girl...but intuitively...I know this isn't the stuff I should be shoveling into my loved ones.

So then how can I get snarky about this ad without coming off as a complete hypocrite?  Because anytime a group of people get together and try to lull me into some ridiculous false sense of security over a product that you'd have to be a complete idiot not to know isn't good for you...it gets my knickers in a complete twist. Plus, that woman is serving the cheapest, shittiest, generic knock-off brand of Kool-Aid ever...and that's just damn un-American.

What do you think of this campaign?  Are you running out to the store to stock up on high fructose corn syrup?  Or are you equally appalled?

We haven't got a clue.

Me: I think I'm starting to develop a bit of a crush on Steve.

Joel: Is it the green striped shirt?  The pleated khakis?  His musical range?  His love of animals?

Me: I'm not sure...I think I really just want to show him my Blue's Clues.

Joel: I don't even know what that means.

Me: Me neither...

...

Me: But he certainly wouldn't be able to do the Mail Time dance for at least a few weeks after.

So I was thinking...

...I wonder if there is a hand-size limit for dentists.  I mean, think about it...you can't have giant man-hands and still be able to get inside of someone's mouth...there's only so much room in there.

I wonder if the application for dental school goes something like, name, address, why do you want to be a dentist, are you aware of the high suicide rate, and then finally, in the space below please trace your hands.

And then the poor kid with monstrous hands receives the rejection letter back..."We are sorry to say that you have not been accepted to Drill U. due to your abnormally large hands...however we have recommended you to our sister school, Beefy State, where you can begin your career as a lumberjack."

Best Prank Ever...

So someone out there is getting me good...real good. I'm embarrassed, puzzled, surprised, curious, and downright beside myself with how damn clever this prank is.  

Someone signed me up for a year of Woman's Day Magazine.

Woman's Day Magazine.  WOMAN'S DAY!!!

Like suddenly I'm some menopausal, divorced, then remarried, mindless/dead end career woman in her mid-forties with a couple of elementary school kids from my second marriage and a kid in college from my first and I must have a lot of credit card debt and just no clue as to how to lose that 25 pounds of fat baby weight that I've been carrying around for the last ten two years or what to make for dinner tonight. WOMEN'S DAY!

Woman's Day...of all the magazines that you could send someone as a prank...not exactly the first thing you would think of, huh?  I would say the obvious would be gay porn...but that's just me (TAKE THAT GOOGLE...I SAID GAY PORN.)

So why do I think this is a prank?  Well...one day a couple of months ago, I strolled over to my work mailbox and there it was...glossy and bright in the fluorescent lights with promises smeared all over it...lose 10 pounds in one week! Get organized today! Spicy up your marriage! It was disgustingly pathetic sitting there in my mail slot...just wrong and embarrassing...it's like that girl at the bar who already had too much makeup on and got way too drunk way too early in the evening...and now that she's already made out with a couple of guys...she's just too sloppy and depressing to be able to take seriously...especially with her lipstick smeared all over her teeth and her mascara running down her cheek. (Ok...maybe that analogy went wrong and off the deep end...I just mean that Woman's Day is generally for the ladies who have been around the block a couple of times.  Just go with me here...I could have said, "Woman's Day is for women who have been rode hard for a couple of years and put away wet." But I didn't. I'm trying to class it up around here.)

I snatched it, rolled it, and stuck it under my arm...I made a beeline back to my desk and avoided eye contact at all costs.  Partially hiding under my desk, I examined it carefully, perhaps it was supposed to go to someone else and it got put in my mailbox by mistake...but no...there it was...my name and my work address.

MY WORK ADDRESS...now that's just low...it's one thing to send me old lady magazines to my house...but to my work where everyone can see...that's bordering on cruel.

So that first month I chalked up to a fluke...but four issues later...I'm starting to think this person is just diabolical.  I even called Woman's Day magazine and asked how and why did I keep getting these things every month. Apparently someone signed me up...paid for a full year...no...they couldn't tell me who this person was, so that I could "thank" them.  The lady on the other end of the phone made the comment of, "Well someone must really like you out there...sending you a whole year's worth of the kind of advice today's woman needs!"

More like someone out there really knows how to fuck with me.

And yes...she actually said, "the kind of advice today's woman needs" it took everything I had in me not to vomit.

So kudos to whoever the mastermind is...you got me flummoxed good and proper...just hope that I don't find out who you are...otherwise prepare for an influx of gay porn, sucker.