Big Kickin' It At Target

Brought to you by the folks over at OHN. I hate you all...

In other news...

I went to Target on my lunch break today, in hopes of getting something classy for my ex boyfriend from high school as a wedding gift. I felt kind of bad going to Target, but hey that’s where he’s registered and it’s my ex.

Once I printed out the registry and discovered the reoccurring theme of a losing football team, all shameful thoughts flew out the window. Listed was, an Oakland Raiders Table Cover, an Oakland Raiders 4-pc BBQ Tool Set, an Oakland Raiders Bedding Collection and an Oakland Raiders Frosted Pint Glass Set.

I started cracking up as I sifted through the list with my eyes. Was he using this wedding as the opportunity to catch up on his favorite team’s collectibles? A visual of a man I once loved twenty years later on the couch with a beer belly and no motivation in life flashed through my mind.

It was right then and there I decided not to be stingy. Instead of going bitter and stag to his wedding, I was going to be happy and celebrate. This girl he was marrying could have him. I tossed the list and opted to buy the happy couple a bottle of wine...

On my way out the store, this guy who obviously worked at Target, with his red button-up and “Jeremy” Target badge shouted out to me.

“Hey, weren’t you the girl eating at the register last week?” He asked.

“I wasn’t eating, I was putting a cough drop in my mouth,” I said defensively.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you were eating.” he said. “Are you a regular here or something?”

“Hahaha no, I just work across the street so its convenient.”

“Oh,” he said. “Do you work at that place across the street that sells Hammer pants?

*Crickets*

No, I do not sit in an office all day and sell MC Hammer merchandise! And if I did work there and you were looking for some sort of re-live the 90s "two legit" hook up Mr., it’s not gonna happen!

Wait. Hold up, time out. Is there really a place somewhere that just sells Hammer pants?

And just to clarify, I was NOT chillin’ at the Target cash register eatin’ a snack…

When karma punches you in the face...

I dub this as Perez Hilton's new theme song...



It would be irrelevant for me to go on a rant right now about Perez and his antics as of late. I'm not condoning violence or picking sides, but didn't he have it coming? And I'm sorry but that was a good ass whoopin' son. It's like all the nasty things he's ever said about other people swelled up in his left eye.

I really do hope he signs up for John Mayer's, "Never Call A Black Dude a Faggot Jitsu" class...

Vomit Water

Yo, I don’t know what happened, but I’m still here blogworld. Not quite sure where exactly, but here nonetheless. I think part of it has to do with the fact that I actually have to work at my job and the rest of it is just lack of motivation.

What brings me back here today is something awesome that happened to me this week and I thought I’d share…

About a week ago, my roommate and I noticed that the water wasn’t going down the drain in our bathtub. At first we both just looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders as if to say “oh well’, too lazy to call the landlord. However, when the funk at the bottom of the tub started to leech onto my feet while I was trying to take shower I knew I had to take action.

So the next morning I decided to call the landlord on my way to work. I usually make my roommate call, because after three years the landlord can still never seem to remember my name. I’m assuming a first name basis with someone guarantees better results. Anyway, I call her and tell her what the problem is and at first she tells me, “why don’t you just call somebody?”

Um I live in your apartment. I pay you rent. You are that somebody. (Although looking back now I should have took her advice). After spelling out my name and number for her a few times, she finally sets it up for her son to come and take a look at my tub. He usually takes care of things, so I figure when I get home everything will be copacetic.

Sometime during the day my landlord calls me and says that her son couldn’t fix the problem, to just call someone and foot her the bill. Ok? I get home and my bathroom looks like someone took everything out of its place and put it in a different place. And the tub is still clogged * sigh *.

I decide to wash the dishes while I wait for Roto-Rooter.

As I’m forcing some old Chicken Alfredo, spinach and chunks of other questionable food down my garbage disposal, I can hear something having to do with water in the background. I shut off the disposal, running water and hear again what sounded like a tidal wave and it’s coming from my bathroom…

I don’t know what my landlord’s son did in his efforts to “help”, but now not only was the tub clogged, but the water from my kitchen sink was being drained out of my bathroom sink! And it smelled... smelled like vomit. Vomit water and spinach was splashing everywhere, the floor, into drawers onto my personal things.

After Roto-Rooter left it took my roommate, and I and a ton of bleach, to clean the crusty vomit water out of our lives. The memory still haunts me. * shudder *
On the bright side, it could have been the whole apartment. And today my girl posted on her FB status that she had to call 911 because there was a snake in her house. My glass is half full of vomit water :)

Would you rather...

...be a single parent of 14...

...have eight kids and your partner cheats on you...

...or find out a child you've been parenting for years was never yours in the first place???

Yes, Brett and I have a thing going on. Jealous?

* Disclaimer * This post only kind of has something to do with Brett Michaels

Well I was going to write a post on the Swine Flu, but even I’m sick (figuratively) of hearing about it.The only thing I was worried about when I first heard of the “pandemic spread” was whether or not I could still eat bacon. And as long as no one sneezes on it, I can. Problem solved, next topic.

In other ‘personal’ news, the ex randomly texted me at work today…

The ex:“Who’s Brett?”

MsP: “Michaels?”

The ex: “No, lmao, not Brett Michaels. Are you dating a Brett?”

MsP: “I’m sorry, what is to you who I date?”

The ex: “I can sense that you’re still angry. Why don’t you blog about it, it might make you feel better.”

*Side eye*

Rest assured I’m not going to directly comment on that conversation, because similar to the time not to long ago when he called me to get his Method Man CD out of my car, (circa 2009 what the fuck do you need a Method Man CD for?), he is probably reading this and getting a stiff one by me even mentioning him.

I only posted this because it's funny. Oh the irony. Soooo, yeah, let’s all have a laugh and move the fuck on.

Dr. Nosey Ass Asshole, this is me blogging about you.

* waves *

Surprisingly enough, I still feel the same as I did when I woke up this morning, but thanks for your concern. Do you feel better now that I posted about you? Does it make you feel like turning up your Method Man CD and whacking off to the idea of me and Brett Michaels on the Rock of Love tour bus?

It does? Oh goodie!!!

Bleh.

The Hills are unfortunately still alive with the sound of annoying people…

After reading comments to my last post, I realized I needed to clear my hills watching conscience, by trying to figure out why I even watch The Hills in the first place. I honestly have no fucking idea why I watch the show. I used to justify that question with, “I just like to see what everyone is wearing”, but five seasons in that sounds just as ridiculous as the cast.

Heidi Montag is annoying as fuck and I think if she bleaches her hair one more time, the crew is going have to start writing her name on cue cards. Her boyfriend, Spencer Pratt, is like having a Yeast Infection that won’t go away. Lauren Conrad aka LC, cries in every fucking episode. No seriously, her Christmas wish list should read, tissue, waterproof mascara and “I need a hug”.

Every guy on the show is the epitome of ‘douche’, except Brody Jenner and he only gets a get-out-of-jail-free card because he’s sexy as hell. However, I’d prefer it if he didn’t speak. Ever.

Speaking of speaking, I can literally feel myself become dumber with every episode, because ALL conversations on the show go something like this…

Annoying person #1: “Hey.”

Annoying person #2: “Hey.”

Annoying person #1: “What’s going on?”

Annoying person #2: “Nothing”.

Annoying person #1: “Have you talked to so-and-so?”

Annoying person #2: “No.”

And that’s pretty much it on dialogue. Yet, I hang onto every word hoping that one day someone on the show is going to unexpectedly bust out with something deep and meaningful like, “The Pluralistic Ignorance Theory” or “cheap places to get a good boob job”.

Which never happens.

And the best part? I don't even have cable!! I literally have to go out of my way, online, to catch an episode. (I should webcam myself temperamentally yelling at my computer because Heidi got back with Spencer for the hundreth time).

If you watch the show, I hope you can empathize with this post. Other than that this post was just as pointless as the show, because for some reason, I will still watch it.

And in other news...

I feel compelled to write Heidi Montag another inspirational letter on how to get a life and a new man. However, after watching her boyfriend Spencer Pratt and his looking-like-a-molester friend, act ‘gangsta’ on the Hills last night, I think I’ll just leave her alone for the time being. I wouldn’t want Mr. Pratt’s ‘peeps’ to come and ‘throw down hard’ on me for talking ‘smack’.

Besides, why waste time on them when there are so many other wonderful things happening!?

First of all, congratulations to Kim Kardashian for this impressive burn. Look! It’s Magda from “Something About Mary”, meets a very Persian Ooompa Loompa.

And then there was the crazy German lady who woke up and thought, “Hey today would be a great day to hang out with some Polar bears at the Zoo during feeding time.” *thumbs ups!* Remember the alleged tiger attacks at the San Francisco Zoo in 2007? Well that’s what they are trying to call this situation, a “polar bear attack”. I felt sorry for the tigers and I once again empathize with the bears.If I was hungry and some fatty jumped all up in my food for no reason, I might get nervous and bite too, sheiiit.

And last but not least, I feel like the 90s are trying to make a comeback.Like isn’t Ginuwine trying to revive his career?Keisha Knight Pulliam allegedly has a reality TV show coming out and you will never guess who I randomly bumped into at the club last Saturday?

No big announcement or extensive MySpace flyers were sent my way. I had just so happened to be at a particular club celebrating my roomie’s bday, when towards the end of the night the DJ hit us with some old school.“This Is How We Do It!” starting blasting through the speakers and I look over to my left and Montell Jordan is in the crowd on the mic!

He only did that song, before saying he would be in the VIP if anyone wanted to come and kick it.We went down to try and get a pic and there were like only three other people around. LOL I don’t think anyone knew who he was or why he was there. Does he have a new album out? Is the economy that bad?Either way, he was still looking scrum-dayyyyumn-yummie-umptious!!!

Your Publicity Stunt Is Gross

My ex used to make fun of me because I think that everything is gross.

Onions. Gross. Herpes. Gross. The sound of a banana when being chewed. Gross! Gross! Gross!

Not to mention, Kanye West’s ego, Tori Spelling’s boob job, Christian Louboutin’s new sneaker line, Amy Winehouse and waking up the next morning to find vomit in my hair that I didn’t know was there the night before, can all also be classified as gross.

However, I would rather watch a Billy Bob Thornton and George W. Bush rendition of two-girls-one-cup, while eating a Fear Factor delicacy on the toilet before exposing my eyes to this ever again…

Aubrey O'Day sucking on Kathy Griffin's tongue.Ew.