Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Blog 54...Women are Crazy as Fuck & Men are Dumb as Shit...(Part I)

Blog 54...Women are Crazy as Fuck & Men are Dumb as Shit...(Part I)

Hmmmm...this sounds kinda crazy...anyhoo

My awesome boss told me one day (in explaining how her and her husband work)...”Men are Dumb, Women are Crazy...once you get that down, it makes communication much easier”

Well my boss is a lady I listen to & look up to so I took this advice and held it close.

Over the past month I have been in observation mode...and figures, she was right.

Sorry guys, I don’t mean to be rude, but you all are some obtuse motherfuckers.

But it is cool, cause us ladies, are some crazy ass bitches...but we gotta be crazy, you all are dumb...but maybe you all are so dumb to help you cope with our craziness...hmmmmmm.

Once we all address this situation, we might all be able to communicate better.

Examples of how we could better situations are as follows:

-I am dressed in a pair a panties, a fedora & my leopard print heels from Paris ready to do a lovely dance for homie, he decides to pick the music, he puts on a song in which the singer starts with...”I want to dedicate this song to my ex-wife.”

I wonder if he can spell dumb ass...cause the heels came off quite quickly...does he not realize I am bonkers.

Now if I had checked myself and been like...”Wait, this dude is a dude, and I know he wants this dance, and I know he loves me, he probably is just so thick skulled that he doesn’t even get that this would really fucking bother me”...I might have prevented myself from becoming ticked.

Now if homie had thought before he put on the music...”Wait, I am a dumb ass...this dance is going to be hot...I should let the lady take control of this one, cause I am cloddish and could fuck this up and she is crazy as sin and if one thing goes wrong this dance is not going to go down.”...Well than the dance would have happened.

-Papi shows me a picture of him recently holding his ex-girlfriend’s tits...what a featherbrain.

Now granted I know this chick and him are just friends, and she is awesomeness times 11, and I’ve seen her other friends grab her tits and I know it is not like that...yet even though I know this, I’m crazy...and what dumb ass is going to show his lady a picture of him holding another ladies tits and go “check this out” and not think it is a wrong, a Pinhead...that is who...aka, a dude.

If homie had checked himself and been like...”Wait, would I like to see a picture of her ex holding her tits...Probably not...And I need to remember that she is insane and freaks out over little things...hmmmmmm, not a good idea”...a hurt loony bin, aka...me...would have never resulted.

Now in the end, I checked myself (cause this chick really is that cool)...but homie really pushed my lunatic button on that one (I just breathed and kept on repeating, “he is a dumb ass...he is a dumb ass...he is a dumb ass”...it helped)

In fact in taking in my boss’s observation I have been able to deal with many aspects of my man dealings better...

At my other job, I have this one guy, he is totally awesomeness but I tell him what to do and he fights me usually in the beginning and wants to do it his way, but I am the boss and the one with the experience, so I find that if I simply repeat myself 3 times, he will fight me the first 2 times, but on the third time he simply repeats back to me what I said and I go “right” and he says “okay” and we are done.

So now, instead of getting frustrated, I just repeat myself and know that by the third time what I am saying has finally sunken in and is starting to make sense...or maybe he just repeats me to get the deranged chick to shut up...up for grabs, totally.

But it works.

In fact now when a dude says something dumb to me...I take a moment to go, “Wait he is an idiot, he probably means no harm, he is just moronic.” and I become way less mad.

And I think if dudes instead of trying to figure out why we are so out to lunch, just accept the fact that we are cracker-brained, and that we mean no malice, we are just batty, they would better be able to communicate with the ladies.

I know, I don’t come close to understanding the male race...it is asinine for me to even attempt to...but you know my insane woman self will always try.

You wanna know something really funny though...when I write about stuff I like to have a thesaurus by me, and I looked up the words “crazy” and “dumb” and many of the words that described “crazy” also portrayed “dumb”

Hmmmmmmm...Something for our crazy dumb asses to think about.

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

Since I am going on vacation (yeahhhhhhhh, best Christmas gift ever...thank you, thank you, thank you) I thought this would be fitting...

PACKING YOUR SUITCASE...
So set your suitcase out at waist level...unzip that bitch...now there are two ways to pack this baby...you can choose Dance Move A. In which case you neatly fold things in the air before placing them gently into your suitcase. Dance Move B. you run around in a circle frantically throwing shit over your shoulder and praying it lands in the vicinity of the suitcase.

How ever you start your dance finish by your “thinking” dance move and go over a mental list of everything you have...might as well throw in another pair of panties...you can never have enough panties...Got it all...awesomeness...time to zip and get out the door...IT’S VACATION TIME!!!!!!!

Friday, November 25, 2011

Blog 53...Daddy, you have cursed me...

Blog 53...Daddy, you have cursed me...

Dear Daddy...

Daddy you have cursed me...and no it is not because of the red curly hair I inherited from you (I have grown quite fond of my mop) nor is it the purple legs you have blessed me with (God forbid you give me your metabolism instead) the humor you gave as a legacy I quite enjoy (as I believe others do) and your work ethic has helped me survive in a world many never expected me to...

Yet how I view “a man” you have fucked...(in the best kinda way)

And yet you are no perfect man.

When I was young the one thing that I did not learn was self-esteem, a notion that pillaged my young life...you were not able to communicate with me properly the notions of exercise and healthy eating, instead we fought over my weight and I had no self worth...yet the blame is not entirely yours...communicating with a teenage girl is harder than attaining world peace...maybe just communicating with women in general...

And there were times where you scared me, and you didn’t understand me, and you thought me short of my abilities...

And that is because sometimes one needs to be scared straight, doesn’t need to be understood but to understand, and people’s views of one’s capabilities are earned not given...or that is how it should be...

You have taught me that life is not easy, that hard work is involved, but you can still enjoy every minute of it, and the pay off to hard work is breathtaking...that there is “a joy in labor found.”

And as I grow the more I see my reflection in your shadow...you told me at the age of 16 after I had gotten kicked out of Spain for drinking (a long story we need not discuss) that I, reminded you most of yourself...

Sometimes I feel this cross is too hard to bare.

Sometimes I fear messing up and letting you down, as I know I have so many times before...

I wonder if one of the reasons you treat mom like such a queen is to set an example for us, for you have set the bar quite high.

I wonder if seeing how boys have affected your daughters so negatively encourages you to show us a different side...

Well dad...you have succeeded.

I watched you this Thanksgiving holiday in awe. I saw how you doted on Mom, how you made sure she was taken care of, that she had everything she needed...I saw a softness you only save for her, I saw you sit back and enjoy seeing three generations together...I saw you exhaustly play with a grand daughter with far more energy that I could fathom, I saw you make her smile...and I saw how happy that made you.

You have taught me the joy in kindness, in treating people right.

That not only is it better to be kind than to be right, but it simply feels better.

You have shown me as a woman, how I deserve to be treated.

And how I should treat others.

You are not just a fine example of a Man...

You are a fine fucking example of a “Human”

Daddy, you have faults just as all of us do. But your dedication to your wife and to your family is flooring, and I feel privileged to have the honor to witness it.

I know I still have so much more to learn and so much more strength to gain...

But you have shown me a path, which I would so like to take.

And if I fail in choosing a man that does not match your abilities the fault lies all on me, not on you.

You have done your job...I just might not have learned the lesson yet.

Here is to hoping that I have...that I will...

And cheers, to one hell of a teacher.

(Please note: My “Dear Mommy” letter is not to be forgotten, just not ready to show, after all among other things I inherited my mom’s Hips...whooooo hooooooo, and her photographic memory, something that after years of pot smoking, I still have in tack...wow is right.)

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

CUTTING THE HAIR...

(if you can pull this off without the person in front of you realizing, you get two extra points)

All right, walk up behind someone and start to shampoo his or her hair. (since you don’t necessarily know this person, you don’t really have to have “contact” you can wash with a 2-inch distance) Now it is time to rinse, use the little hose thingy, don’t forget to shake the hair out...condition time, you should probably bring out the comb for this part, all right, got the knots out, damm that last one was hard...rinse again...all right, pin up some sections so you can get to the bottom, comb out & start to cut with your fingers that have turned into scissors...opps that was a big chunk of hair...point to it on the ground, looks like it is going to be more than a trim...tee hee hee, maybe if we unpin these top sections it will look better...hmmmm, step back, looks like we should just cut it really short...now get snipping.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Blog 52...And the Hunt Continues...(Adventures of a Chode Hunter Part II)

Blog 52...And the Hunt Continues...(Adventures of a Chode Hunter Part II)


For your basic definitions of "Chode" & all meaning involved with "Chode Hunting" please refer to Blog 31.

More definitions to add to your repertoire.

Chode Code:
This is a code that Chode Hunters use to alert their friends that they have been approached by a chode or to distance themselves from a chode...I have been known to yell "PIZZA" at random moments so my ladies know to come and save me (who would not come running for pizza)...when I am by myself I look at the chode who is hitting on me, smile big, and tell him,... "I only fuck chickens"...and walk away. This usually works and leaves them with the common "huhhhh" look on their face (making their bottom lip somewhat protrude out.)

This being said...be prepared for interesting come backs...the best one I received after telling a man that I only fucked chickens was...."Well Cock-a-doddle-do"...that one made me freeze dance for a moment.

Chode Chatter:
Have you ever talked to someone and felt minutes of your life wasting away...has it ever been a boy that is hitting on you in the lamest way possible...have you ever felt like blinking and blowing their heads up...This is "Chode Chatter"...Chodes tend to ask questions that they don't want answers to...its just part of their pick up line...a wonderful example of this is what happened to me this weekend...A man asked if I was Irish, I squinted my green eyes at him and tilted my red hair, not evening answering...he then asked, "Do you want so more in you?"

Precious seconds of my life...wasted...gone, never to return...on chode chatter (I think I heard that line once, when I was ten...maybe we need to come up with a "Chode Academy" to free the world of dumb asses.)

CIT (Chode in Training):
This is a younger man who has chode tendencies...and has older friends that are chodes...it is possible to save the young lad from the deep pit of stupidity of all that is chode...but the battle is fierce...glitter tends not even to work...and often the battle leads the chode hunter to copious amounts of drinking and gaining a minimum of 5lbs..

Ladies...sometimes this fight is pointless too...for a chode chicklet (baby chode) is started at a young age, just please remember this if you are to ever have a son...Do not raise a chode...raise a fucking man!

Debunking a Chode:
This is a rarity...and is only for level 10 Chode Hunters...for only a few precious chode hunters are capable of getting a chode to "change teams."

Sadly, a debunking usually occurs after some sort of loss and pain...only acute humbleness can cause a chode to open his eyes...lessons that are painful usually produce the most growth...sometimes the Chode Hunter has to let go of a chode she loves for good in order for the debunking to happen...that is another reason she is a level 10 hunter...she is willing to sacrifice the love she has...to better the quality of man. (She has helped paved the way for this man to be good, for she has helped him learn from his mistakes.)

And I am still a level 7 chode hunter, and wish I had the strength be a level 10...one day...one day.

Now Let's rate a chode or two...

(Can you believe these encounters happened all in one night)

Encounter Four:
As I danced at the first show of the evening, the music was funky, and so were my moves. A chode wrapped his arm around me, stopping me in mid-dance move and pulled me close and said in my ear, "I want to take you out to dinner, you are the sexiest thing in this room." I firmly removed his hand from my waist and continued to dance, feverly looking around the room for my girlfriend who had gone searching for friends. The chode then stood directly in front of me and said "Are you not even going to fucking talk to me? Are you not even going to fucking say thank you?" I stopped dancing, looked him dead in the eye and walked away...(remember, sometimes there is no point in chode chatter.)

Chode Rating...times 90 (you fucked my groove up and you cussed at me...fuck you)

Encounter Five:
Having left the first show of the evening, I headed to the second...after saying hi to friends and taking pictures I headed to the bar to grab a bottle of water. There was a line, I like normal society got in the back of the line. A drunk chode stubbled up to the line, looked at it, looked at me at the end, and cut infront of a couple who were making out (can we please pay attention in line here peeps) As he waited for his beer he spun around in a slow circle with a smug smile on his face...(oh, the look of a dumb ass)...after purchasing his beer he turned and walked up to me. After spilling a bit of his beer on my toes (figures) he said, "Your cute, what is your name?"

I replied with, "My name is the girl who you just cut in line and spilled beer on, nice to meet you."...out came his bottom lip and the "huhhhh" look.

Chode Rating...times 30 (It is hard being a dumb ass)

Encounter Six:
The first part of this encounter happened as I approached the second venue...I said hello to some of the door guys that I know, one of them patted my ass and told me it was good to see me. I ignored it and talked to the other door guy that I knew...the chode that had grabbed my ass got mad, he said, "you can't talk to him, you are mine." I looked down at the leopard ring I had on my left hand's ring finger...turned to him and said...."I only belong to leopard" and walked inside thinking...chode.

As I went out to do one of my "air laps"...(I get hot)...the chode of a door guy grabbed my wrist and squeezed it hard and said "Oh, you ain't leaving"...I told him to let go of my wrist and that I was just getting air, I tried to pull my wrist away...he proceed to yank and twist my wrist pulling me towards him as I tried to pull away and said, "You are going home with me tonight."

I yelled "Let go of my fucking wrist"...and proceed to simply jump in a cab and leave the show before it ended.

Chode Rating...times infinity (not only did you ruin my show and make me yell in public, but you fucked my wrist up to the point that it is bruised and damaged and I have to tape it and it hurts at work...YOU SUCK)

Why oh why did I not bring my light saber that evening...I would have whomped some serious chode ass.

Maybe I should just start glittering all the chodes I meet so at least when they are being a rude dumb ass, they are sparkling and that will make me giggle.

And you got to giggle at the chodes...for they are stuck with themselves...and imagine having to deal with a dumb ass 24/7...that would be some free TV right there...totally

Dance move of the Week:

Roller Skating

Who does not like to Roller Skate...right. So get your skates moving, do a spin or two, don't forget that the brake is on the toe...use your arms for balance...now try to skate backwards...hey, it almost looks like you are "moon-walking"...now add some finger points...brake...go forward now...swing those arms...brake and spin...and repeat...when was the last time you roller skated?

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Blog 51...To Sacrifice (Sabbatical Chronicles Part II)

Blog 51...To Sacrifice (Sabbatical Chronicles Part II)

Sacrifice: The act of giving up something valued for the sake of something else more important or worthy.

When is it proper to sacrifice?

When is it a good time to be selfish?

What is the deciding factor?

What...Who...is worth the sacrifice?

Is the sacrifice, the loss, the solitude.....does it justify the outcome?

What if… what we feel like is a sacrifice, is actually us opening the door to a possibility of a happiness we never knew existed?

What if we have to sacrifice what we think makes us happy, to truly be happy?

Should we be able to find happiness in anything?

Is it ever wrong to put our own wants before someone else's?

Is it always wrong?

What makes something or someone "Worth It."

When does one choose to Sacrifice and when does one choose to be Selfish?

These questions & others have been plaguing me all week.

When do we put other's needs in front of our own?

And when do we put our own personal needs before others...

When is it that our needs come first and others don’t?

Maybe to be truly happy we must sacrifice all that we deem worthy…for as the song goes… “You can’t always get what you want…but you get what you need...”

What is it that we truly need?

Or are all our wants and desires just things that we put in front of our happiness?

Do we really need anything?

Or can we just be happy… no matter what?

What if we sacrifice our wants in order to reach eternal happiness?


As I come to the realization that I must take a job offer that seems like some bad joke and as my personal world continues to swirl out of control…My dad’s voice echoes in my head…. “You must learn to surrender…surrender…surrender” …and yet sometimes it causes me to tremble…tremble…tremble.

And as I think of what the word “sabbatical” truly means… I consider that this sabbatical that I think of…maybe a sabbatical not from sex but from WANT…from the things that I desire, from the need…that desire simply gets in the way of a chosen path that stands before me.

If I am truly to reach my throne as Queen… what sacrifice comes with it?

What eternal wonder is to follow?

Is it not all “worth it”

Who gets to decide what is more important than the others?

And if we ever truly sacrifice something that means so much to us…does in not return in some way or another…eventually… or is that just a pipe dream?

I have decided to stay true to my sabbatical …but maybe I didn’t really understand what I meant by saying “sabbatical” in the beginning…

I need to go outside of myself, and what I think makes me happy…and just be happy.

I need to step away from what I hold dear to truly understand what is important to me.

I need to lose my feelings of “want”… a Sabbatical from “want.”

It is a lesson that I need to learn.

And maybe in learning it…I can teach others the virtue of sacrifice.

Maybe if I put everything in front of my wants, and just do what brings happiness to others…I will find it.

Maybe I will encourage others to sacrifice “wants” for happiness…

Maybe I will inspire…

That would be awesomeness…times 11.



If that does not work…maybe I’ll go shopping…

Speaking of shopping…


DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

FINDING A PAIR OF SHOES

All right…walk up and down the aisles…picking up a shoe here and there, find one that you like…make sure the soles bend (this is a trick of my mom’s to test if the shoe is going to be comfortable…if the bottom does not bend, it aint going to be comfy)…now take the shoes out of the box…slip one on ...do a half runway strut…got to have a “strut worthy” shoe…it works…its fly…you can do your dance moves in them (practice a couple..ie..”hop into the shower dance”)…oh yeah., these shoes totally work…you will take them….now strut your fly ass out the store…

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Blog 50...Opportunity came Knocking

Blog 50...Opportunity Came Knocking...

Opportunity came knocking this week, do I answer the door with a kind smile, or do I shut it with a polite "not interested" and wait patiently for it to knock again?

Yet I know this particular candyman will not return.

Opportunity came knocking this week, and it has taken me for a head spin that I did not see coming.

A look has taken over my face "contemplation" is its name...and making me a "confused ass individual" is its game.

Opportunity came in the form of a job offer that I must consider, even though I have no desire to.

I got offered a job that would free me from my current financial situation, in fact, it would set me up for life...in three years time, I would have the financial freedom to do what I see fit with my life.

I would have to be in charge again, gross, I hate being the mean one (but I am a good boss)...and I would have to work solid for three years and not take a lot of time off and be married to the job for 3 years...but after that course of time I would be a 25% percent owner of a company, only have to work 2 hours a week and make enough money a year that I could live modestly and travel, I could retire, I could start a 401k, I could see places I have never seen, I could help my friends start their own companies...open my own company again, I could consider having a child if I wanted to (I am in no financial position to even consider the notion of having a child now)...

For as much as money is a bitch, it sure does make shit a whole lot easier and you do get to do a whole bunch of more cool stuff...

Now why you might ask am I not opening the door for opportunity and offering it a steak dinner...

Well...it is a Dairy Queen...right, this totally threw me, me a princess, running a Dairy Queen and than owning it...me...and fryer oil on a daily basis...WHAT...but to only have to do it for three years and than be done, I could do it...

But the Dairy Queen is in SOUTH DAKOTA...



Yeah, close your mouth, I was stunned quiet for the first two minutes too...what kind of chicken fucker would offer me a job that would give me all this and than tell me it is in South Dakota...Yet I have been offered this job by a friend of my father, who knows my struggles, and my accomplishments, my work ethic and who wants with my parents for me to have a better life.

And don't I want a better life?

Is there such a thing as a life in South Dakota?

Where the fuck is South Dakota?

Do they have glitter in South Dakota?

Who the fuck lives in South Dakota?

Does the Warren Haynes Band come to South Dakota?

What if I do all this for a better life and I end up dying in South Dakota...ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Are the promises of a better tomorrow, stronger than the happiness of today?

How happy am I really today?

I mean I love San Francisco, first and foremost my family is here and to leave them would tear me apart..I treasure having my parents a 15 minute car away, having them be such a part of my life has helped me gain a strength I never knew existed, they are my rock. (who the hell is going to keep an extra house key for me in case I get locked out)

But as much as I do not want to leave my parents, I want to make them happy, and I don't know if seeing their daughter struggle for money in the tenderloin makes them as proud of me as they could be.

Don't get me wrong, my parents are damm proud of me, and remind me constantly how far I have come...but life is not about all that you have done...it is about what you continue to do...

And improving myself in the financial arena, would get me out of the tenderloin, for as much as I love the tenderloin...in order for me to be a Queen I need to explore the world, and if that is my destiny, why would I not take this chance.

In all departments, why not take this chance?

I would not be around the friends I have made, I have worked hard to get into the careers that I have entered, I have made my life easier than I could have ever imagined in the city...I am a freaking Princess here peeps...and I love it...and I am so scared to give up my life of culture, music and color...

But I can always come back...I would love to come back with enough money that I can live in a place that I don't see crack getting smoked 30 times a day and maybe start a shelter or something to help those people on the street...

What if I have to leave to be able to come back and make a true difference?

But South Dakota...what kind of cruel "fuck you" is opportunity trying to pull on me...

Doesn't South Dakota have a shit ton of tornadoes?

And yet I have been speaking of Sabbatical...maybe I just need to take it to a whole new level...

I have not made my choice yet, but in the back of my mind, I don't know how I could pass up this opportunity even if it made me unhappy for three years....

And if I was unhappy, would it have anything to fucking do with South Dakota or just a whole lot to do with me?

Opportunity...You are a Chicken Fucker...times 10.

Thank you Opportunity for knocking at my door, my eyes have been opened to thoughts I never knew existed...now if you could have "Stop being Confused as Fuck" knock on my door next...I would greatly appreciate it...totally...cause he would get a steak dinner for sure.

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK...

GRILLING THE STEAK...

There ain't nothing like grilled meat (not trying to offend any vegetarians here...what ever makes you happy, besides...more meat for me)...

So start by squirting your lighter fluid on the charcoal, now light it...WOW, holy crap, you put a shit ton of fluid on that bad boy, whew...that made you step back...Let the grill warm up as you check to make sure you still got eye lashes and all that important action...now grab your plate of steak...season those babies with some salt & pepper and toss them on the grill...as you drink beer and chat with your friends keep an eye on your meet...flip it every once in a while and poke at it...beer is finished = steak probably done...take those bad boys off the grill (you can let them rest while you go grab another beer)...MEAT TIME.