Tankinis are dangerous

So I went to a German themed water park last weekend and got my bathing suit bottoms ripped off.

No, not stolen, literally ripped off my body.




I was in The Torrent, which is basically a lazy river with a wave machine. If you've ever been in a wave pool, you know that the water is sucked back through a grate, and then pushed out over and over again to create waves. In this particular "lazy river" the grate is on the side of a river "wall", where people will crowd around to try to "catch a wave".

If the over-use of quotations didn't clue you in right away, I'm pretty bitter about this.

I'm swimming by, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, the current sucked me into the throng of people eagerly awaiting the oncoming wave. I'm trying to get the hell out of the way, when I realize the tie on my bathing suit bottom has been sucked into the grate. The tie conveniently has a large brown wooden bead attached to the end of it, making a perfect hook. The current is sweeping me away, I'm holding on to my bottoms for dear life, when I'm suddenly released, sans the lower half of my bathing suit.

So here I am, naked from the waist down, floating in a public water park, in front of a few hundred strangers. I'd been separated from the people I was with, and didn't want to actually swim anywhere, since my naked ass would be on display for all to see. And remember the aforementioned waves? I just let them wash over my head, again and again, risking drowning instead of jumping up above as they approached, which would definitely expose my derriere. I had to make three laps around that fucking "river" before I found JP. And as far as I could tell, no one noticed, although I did get a few odd glances when I had to come out with a shirt wrapped around my waist.

Not only did I possibly traumatize children and lifeguards everywhere, but more importantly, I have to go buy bathing suit bottoms AGAIN for the FOURTH TIME THIS YEAR. And those bitches aren't cheap.

FYI

Just to let everyone know, I'll be on vacation this week! Hopefully I'll still be able to drop and read, but posting will be pretty light.

Have a great weekend and week, guys!!

Ice cream or sex? You decide.

So I guess Klondike has decided their target demographic is douchebags and morons, cause these new line of commercials certainly speak their language.

You've seen these commercials, right? One shows a man sitting at a table with his wife, having a coffee or something, when a thin, blonde girl on her cellphone walks past. The wife looks up, but the husband keeps his eyes on his wife, and the commercial announcer says something like, "Dave McHorndog kept his eyes on his wife. Give this man a Klondike bar." Yes, Dave. The people at Klondike have decided you really deserve something for being a good and respectful husband, and it's.....ICE CREAM!

The second commercial shows a wife unloading groceries, while her husband sits at the table twiddling his thumbs, or something. The wife is going on an on about someone she saw at the grocery store, yadda yadda, and she asks him a question, to which (wait for it).........he responds to. The announcer comes on and says, "Dan Theairhead listened to his wife's story. Give this man a Klondike bar." Wow, really? Isnt that what people in normal, healthy relationships do?

Not only are these commercials a bit misogynistic, it's depicting men as vapid, simple, uncontrollably horny, and riddled with ADD. Which women don't want, and I really cant see men getting on board with that image, either. Are there a bunch of crazy scorned women and/or gay men working in marketing for Klondike looking for revenge? Did someone slip a roofie to the person who was supposed to approve these?


A google search lead me to the press release put out for the new commercials. Here are just a few of the quotes:
..."Now, the “What would you do for a Klondike® Bar?” question is back in a series of new TV spots that capture those moments during everyday life when a spouse or significant other does something so unexpected there’s simply only one response – offer them a Klondike Bar!"
Or a bitch slap, whatever.

"The new Klondike ads capture the moments when people - particularly men - do something out of-the-ordinary to the surprise of their significant others. In one commercial a man puts his empty glass in the dishwasher (1) rather than leaving it on the counter – prompting an astonished reaction from his wife. In another, a man shows surprising (2) self control as he keeps his eyes focused on his wife while a beautiful (3) woman slowly strolls by. One of the five ads portrays a wife as she keeps her “true”thoughts about her in-laws to herself. (4)
1. NO WAY. I DONT BELIEVE IT.
2. Surprising? I guess I should be expecting my SO to do a full head swivel when a pretty lady walks past.
3. The Klondike people really need to re-define their idea of beautiful, I'm afraid.
4. Never seen this one, but I guess we're not allowed to let our husbands/wives know how much their Uncle Dan pisses us off now.

Okay, so I realize I'm taking an ice cream commercial a little too seriously. But I think its a bit silly that the Klondike people are putting out ads that perpetuate the idea that a man (and woman in that one instance) deserves a treat for acting like a decent human being or spouse. I know plenty of men who would think so, too. They deserve far much more than a Klondike bar...more like some good, good lovin and a beer. I'd take that any day over a 330 calorie ice cream bar, wouldn't you?

How to look like a self absorbed asshole

A few days ago, my boyfriend's copy of Wired magazine arrived in the mail, The How To Issue, to be exact, and right there on the cover next to a picture of Julia Allison's killer gams was the headline, "Get Internet Famous". Uhh...I've never heard of this chick before, but sure, I'll read it.

Summary of article: Julia Allison dated some Gawker people, then some IT dudes, blogged about every last detail, is/was mean, held a dance party in Manhattan and took lots of pictures with famous people? She's like the Paris Hilton for quasi-intellectuals, I suppose.

Anyway, the article got me thinking about blogging and my own experience. Even though I'm too lazy to use apostrophes correctly and I disregard style, I'm not new to writing. Before being betrayed by countless people (and thats a story for another time, folks) I kept paper journals for about 12 years. Before blogs were invented, I had an online diary back in the day (Gurl.com, Chickclick.com and Geocities.com - oh, the memories) complete with grrlgoddess webrings and guestbooks. And while at times I'm completely self-delusional, achieving fame due to my blog is laughable to me.

Just for kicks, here are some of Wired magazine's and Julia Allison's tips to becoming "Internet Famous", and their applications in my own life.

It's not who you know, its who you're next to
Hmm. Well, I wasnt invited couldn't attend the Blogher conference, so I missed my opportunity to be photographed next to Dooce or Maggie Mason. However, I'll be at the circus tonight, so maybe I'll try to get my picture snapped with Bello. Actually quite fitting for this blog, don't you think?

Dress against type
Well, since I've been broke as hell this year and haven't been able to update my wardrobe, I think I'm officially dressing against type. It hasn't got me any recognition other than sneers from the girls at Macy's when I go in occasionally to window shop. But if old Jules taught me anything, negative attention is good attention!

Embrace enigma
Merriam-Webster defines enigma as:
1 : an obscure speech or writing
2 : something hard to understand or explain
3 : an inscrutable or mysterious person

Well my blog does a good job of being obscure, is quite hard to understand at times and I wouldn't call myself mysterious, but I'm no Brangelina, either. I think I'm doing a good job at embracing the enigma so far.

Let your minion's fight your battles
Now I need some minions. How does one get minions, anyway? Google was no help, and Minions.com was a bust. Perhaps I'll put an add out in Craigslist?

Confessions of a Life Slut

Have you ever played the drinking game, "I Never", or "Never Have I Ever"? Basically you start with 10 fingers up, and you state something you have never done, like bungee jumping or anal sex. The people who have done this, have to do a shot and subtract a finger. The game ends when someone ends up with all ten fingers down. Or pukes from taking 10 shots of Cuervo, whichever comes first.


I dont play drinking games anymore, but when I did, I ALWAYS lost I Never. Without fail. Because my motto in life is, "I'll try anything once". I have no qualms about eating blowfish. Dancing on a bar. Diving headfirst into a vat full of jello - which I seriously want to do once before I die, maybe upon death cause I might die by suffocating in raspberry jello. The two things I wont do are skydive and bungee jump because I jumped off a 30 foot high dive once (see what I mean?) and that was enough free falling for one life time, thanks.

And sometimes it makes me feel like a Life Slut. I've experienced so many different things at a relatively young age, I feel kind of guilty. While other people were in college, I was out collecting experiences like they were the box tops of life. Some of them are good (Good Citizen awards, rescuing a man who fell off a bridge, saving someone's life) and some are cringe inducing (held up at gunpoint, sneaking into the mall to do it on the ice skating rink (lol), getting caught shoplifting) but they are MINE and they've made me who I am today, and even though I was caught by the police having sex in a car, I embrace the naughty, the debauch and shine a positive light on it: I HAD FUN, bitches.

Doodle Week x2

Today's doodle theme is Pet.

Mine is a liiiitle NSFW. And while most of us don't work on a Saturday, some of us have kids who like to stand over our shoulder shouting MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY when all we're trying to do is take 10 SECONDS OUT OF OUR LIVES TO CHECK OUR EMAIL, DAMNIT!!!!!!11!1

And we don't want to permanently scar our children, now do we?

Of course not.

Intrigued? Scared? Bored? Clickity click to see my doodle of a "pet". ;)

Doodle Week

Heard of Doodle Week? I'm jumping on the bandwagon a little late, but its hard for me to pass up a good doodle. This weeks theme is Evil, and you'll see my representation of said theme below. Click for bigger image!

Have a great weekend, everyone!

This post has a lot of yummy pictures.

Today I want to talk about running.
I fucking hate running.

(btw - if you google "I fucking hate ____" you will find that a lot of people fucking hate some weird stuff like "unplugged" music, fireworks (who the fuck hates fireworks?!) and granny carts. Uh....)

I run because I like food. I like good food. I am from the south and I was raised on things like home made cheeseburgers and chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes and MMMMMMMMM cheesecake.




Damn that is some good looking cheesecake. If that plate of sinful delight was sitting in front of you right now are you telling me you wouldn't eat it? Lick the cherries off the top at least? Uh huh. Thats what I thought.

So I eat yummy food, therefore I run. I haven't been keeping up with it lately, however. I've been sporadic and lazy and not interested. Its so tedious and boring, and it takes a long time, and I'm always worried my track pants are riding up into my crotch, or my boobs are bouncing too much. I cant download any new music for my mp3 player because of some issue on the computer, so I'm listening to like, Spice Girls and old Madonna songs.
Even thought I'm not running, I still eat the good stuff, but I walk past my Nikes (hanging forlornly in their shoe hanger, longing for the feel of pavement on their lonely, lonely sole) without a second thought.

Yesterday I had that second thought.

Getting in the shower yesterday, I glanced back in the mirror before stepping in and, literally, gasped at the sight.


ON MY ASS, PEOPLE. No. No, no, no, no, no OH HELLLLLLL NO. I wonder how long its been back there, smirking at JP when we're doing sexy times, glaringly obvious to everyone besides me when I'm in my bathing suit. UGH.
I know, its a fact of life. Everyone has it (and if you don't you better not tell me, I don't want to hear it, you smug bitch). But the most upsetting thing about it is, it is forrreeevvvverrrrrr. FOREVER. Like herpes. Or diamonds. Never goes away.

So back to the trail. Pulled out the Nikes. Did some stretches today in preparation. Yay. So thrilled. Its 96 fucking degrees outside, and unfortunately I cant run naked (firstly, OW, and secondly, EEK), so I'm gonna sweat my ass off and I'll look like a crazy homeless person by the time I get home, but at least I'll be FIT. AND HEALTHY. Well, probably just fit cause I doubt I'll stop eating fried chicken any time soon. Baby steps, people.

At least I'm not addicted to CNN.

Confession: I am terribly addicted to celebrity gossip.

Look, I consider myself an intelligent person. Grounded, philosophical, secure in the knowledge that I am smarter than 95% of the people I know surrounded by intelligent, competent human beings. I don't use spell check, I've memorized the dictionary and thesaurus, and I speak 3 different languages.

...Okay, so my spell check feature is ALWAYS turned on, I'm the queen of run on sentences, and the three languages I speak are English, Spanglish and Toddler. No one is 100% perfect, right?

But knowing that Justin Long and Drew Barrymore just broke up, or that Dinah Lohan is a fame whoring attention hound isn't exactly going to win me the Pulitzer, if you get my drift. I mean, all this useless knowledge is probably taking up room in my head. If I didn't read about Pam Anderson at the Big Brother House last week, I might have done better on yesterday's Jeopardy! (I am a faithful Jeopardy watcher. See how smart I am!??!?) . Also, I really don't care about Brangelina (they had the chosen ones, by the way), Christian Bale (would totally do him, but only as Batman) or Lauren Conrad (seriously, I'm not that sure what she does. The Hills, right?) and while I envy their ability to purchase cute shoes without a financial doubt or worry, I dont aspire to be like any of them.

What it is, I think, is I use celebrity gossip like the rest of the world uses TV for escape. I watch 4 TV shows regularly, and only 3 of them are in season right now. That is the most TV I have ever watched, except for my brief addiction to MTV when I was 15.
But even if its the truth, I still get looked upon like an inane airhead when I confess to strangers or acquaintances my deep and ardent affection for the tabloids. Somehow, TV watching isnt that bad in comparison and I don't know why. It seems just as dumb and indulgent as reading gossip columns, right?

One good thing, though, about knowing a lot of useless celebrity information is kicking ass in Trivia. Do you know who Phoebe Price is? Bai Ling? Shauna Sand? Have you heard about Lindsay Lohan's legging line? And join me up with one of those TV watchers, and we will take your ass down in the Pop Culture category, faster than you can say Jamie Lynn's backwoods baby.

Not so happy camper

Oh my god, do I have a camping hangover.



Okay, that picture is a little disgusting and does not accurately reflect the kind of hangover I have, but I feel like shit and its the best I could do, okay?! Damn.

Like I was saying, I feel like shit. Why we thought it would be such a great idea to drive 5 hours away to camp at a lake with 2 kids under the age of 10 is beyond me. Building character, teaching responsibility and prying their grubby little asses away from the TV and ipods to get some fresh air aside, it was not worth the effort for only 2 days. One kid is old enough to complain the whole way there and back about being bored (the rule about no DVD players in the car might be eradicated soon) and the other is young enough to wait to tell you at the last minute that she has to go potty RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW.

The actual camping was much worse, however. Complaints about it being too hot, too windy, too noisy, too "chirpy" (the crickets) and too many shadows went on until midnight. The marshmallows were too burnt. There were tons of bees. A roving armadillo close to our tent provided some much needed entertainment for the kids, though, until it charged toward Calista's toes thinking they were grubs, or whatever the hell armadillos eat. The lake had too many "squooshy" rocks, and every time Calista brushed up against one she let out a shriek that made you think she'd just been eaten by Nessy. That happened fairly often since we were in a LAKE filled with ROCKS.

Even though I'm afraid of bugs and I wouldn't necessarily call myself "outdoorsy", I like camping. I really do. The trick is to make it as comfortable and pain-free as possible, and I always over pack so we have everything we need. I make a DO NOT FORGET list a week before we leave, and constantly add stuff to it so by the time we're ready to go, I've thought of everything. Here are a few things I'm adding to the DO NOT FORGET list the next time we go camping:
Xanax
Red Wine
Those Bose noise reducing headphones
That geeky personal cooling system
Valium
Map to the closest hotel with 5 star accommodations.

What are friends for?

So, my best friend called me yesterday and says, "Hey, do you think you can vote for me this year?"
Being an immigrant from England, she is unable to take place in an election, which is like the perfect exemption if you ask me. Exotic and insouciant. I know that once you move to a different country, you are supposed to be interested in the new and different things it has to offer and be adaptable and all that, but I don't think I'd want to be involved in American politics if I wasn't from this country. Much like heroin, it makes you feel dirty and wrong, but I suppose it can be quite addicting.

"Okaaay," I replied warily, "Who do you want me to vote for?" There was a pause, and then she chirped, "John McCain!" Except I heard this in a loud, cavernous echo: THE DEVIL HIMSELF.
(Oh hi there, did I just alienate some readers?)

I was speechless. "John "Waterboarding" McCain?!" I asked incredulously. There was a tense pause on the other side of the phone, and then I received an icy reply, "You're not seriously gonna vote for Obama, are you?"

Oh dear. I had no idea my best friend of 13 YEARS was a crazy right wing republican. How did I not catch on to this? How could I have been so blind? Honestly, I'm exaggerating a little, cause I'm really not that into politics. I am whats known as an "Optimist", a rapidly decreasing breed of people, and in order to stay that way I prefer to remain as minimally educated as necessary about politics. I have my morals and beliefs and hold them to a very high standard (which apparently makes me an anarchist libertarian?) but thats about as far as I go. I plan on voting for Obama because of many reasons I prefer not to go into on my blog, you can ask me if you really care that much!!

The rest of the afternoon, we shot email after email off to eachother, highlighting our presidential candidate's pluses and issues, pointing out negative facts about the others beliefs, and sending mean edited pictures to eachother.

Hers:


Mine:



Later on that evening I received a call from her. "Truce?" She offered. I begrudgingly accepted. Politics may be evil, but it cant ruin a 13 year relationship. However, bring up shoes, chocolate, men, dancing or alcohol...they've come much, much closer in the past ;)

Web MD here I come.

I'm about to say something that is going to make you want to punch me in the face. But at the risk of death threats and bitch slaps, here goes:

I need a break from all these "vacations".

I know. Poooor me, having all this free time to go to an amusement park, trips out of state, trips within the state, camping this weekend, and Schlitterbahn in three weeks. Boo fucking hoo, right? But seriously, we all know vacations take a lot of work and planning and stressful hours online scouring the net for the best ticket prices, hotel prices, rental car prices, (I'm a ocd bargain shopper, so even though sites like expedia.com and travelocity.com say they'll book you a "package" deal, I just dont trust them), buying tickets, booking campsites, and going absolutely fucking NUTS. Then comes the packing. The packing of clothes (and the loads of laundry that goes with it cause I always have about 5 loads constantly in the hamper because I'm lazy I'm going on vacation so much I don't have time to do chores!), tents, food, all the f'ing stuff that goes with having a three year old, books, first aid supplies, toiletries for three people (now four), and the lists. Lists of things not to forget. Lists of places to go, places to see, things to do.

Hmm. Reading all of this, I think I might have a slight problem. But can you really be TOO prepared? The "what-if's" kill me sometimes. What if we decide to go to a fancy restaurant? Gotta pack the cute dress and shoes. What if we decide to go water skiing? Need to bring the print out with directions to the closest hospital. What if we decide to go hiking and get bit by a rattlesnake? We need that book that tells you how to survive things. Shit. What is that book called? Need to buy that book (Mental note: add to the list of things to buy before the trip.) You see? ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.

This obsessive being preparedness probably falls under some sort of disorder, but since I've spent all my mental health money of vacations, I'll stick to wine and hope for the best.

Crush loves you

Yawn. Hey guys. Its Crush. Yeah, I know, I know - you've got a crush on me. Heard it a
thousand times. God. Whatever. Look, I'm just here cause these bitches made me show up. I'd much rather be at home in bed with my uh, massager, and possibly my cute blonde servan- I mean, MAID, painting my toenails. I just need a break, guys. This American Gladiators shit is insane. I'm totally ready to slap a CERTAIN PINK HAIRED SOMEONE, but fucking NBC made me sign this contract saying I cant do anything "physical" until we're done filming for the new season. Fucking suits. They dont even KNOW how hard it is dealing with this chick. After the show she just struts around with her wings still attatched, sometimes naked, and talks about the ratings boost she "made happen" FIVE WEEKS AGO. GOD. And dont get me started on the new girl. I mean, damn. Cheerleader needs to lay off the pep pills, but Venom is such a bad influence and the guys are doing "performance shots" in the back, so I mean...it's just so corrupt. I dont know. I mean, you'd think that a show about GLADIATORS and FIGHTING would be clean and pristine, but these guys gotta go and dirty up the whole competition. I'll bet you didnt know that Wolf used to be a girl, huh? Back in '06 she started taking testosterone shots to help with her "allergies" or something, I dont know, and all of a sudden she just got fucking HUGE and had lots of energy. The downside was, her tits disappeared and she grew all this hair, but NBC said she wasnt all that pretty to begin with, and they made her get fangs and Wolf was born. I'm pretty sure she'll have to go through years of therapy for this, but she swears the fame and salary are worth it. I dunno. Anyway. Siren and Helga wanna go have sushi so I gotta go. Tune in on Monday to see if I finally lose my shit and beat the hell out of Phoe- I mean, a random female gladiator. Then we'll talk about a boost in ratings! Ha!

Sheesh.

I keep hearing all this mess about high gas prices keeping families from - GASP - going on a vacation this summer, which apparently is a sign of the coming apocalypse, if you believe CNN. On this, I call bullshit. Let me tell you - we are POOR MOFOS and we drove about 768 miles in 3 days. Yes, 768 miles. Google Maps told me so. We could have gone to like, New Orleans or Pensacola or even fing Roswell but we decided to drive all over Texas, instead. Gas prices, indeed.

Instead of everyone bitching about gaaaaaas being soooo expensive, why dont you try CUTTING BACK on your Target shopping spree, 4 dollar starbucks Frapps, and Panera lunches? Shit. Not that difficult, people. We are currently a one income family, with one "full time" kid under the age of 5 and one "half time" kid under the age of 10, and we managed to take a 4 day "vacation" to Six Flags. If you think gas is ridiculously expensive, try going to an amusement park, where you basically have to pay for the air you breathe. 13 dollars for a drink? Sure! 7 dollars for a funnel cake? Why not! You can even pay for convenience, which in this case I totally advocate, by the way.

I think the real reason for this post is I'm just a little bitter about NPR and CNN and other media outlets making people feel inadequate since they cant afford to take a REAL vacation this year. I read an article the other day about the high gas prices resulting in families traveling closer to home this summer and visiting their state parks instead of going on vacation. HUH? Are you serious? What the hell constitutes as a REAL vacation, anyway? God forbid you have to spend 4 days outside close to nature, disconnected from your ipod, laptop and blackberry. Its ridiculous. MW defines vacation as a respite or a time of respite from something, not a picture of Disneyland or a resort in the Bahamas (although that doesnt sound too bad right now). Instead of crying and feeling ashamed of the things we cant do or afford due to rising prices everywhere, we should adapt. Embrace the things we can afford, create new tradtitions, or suck it up, cut back and save for that trip to the Bahamas in '09. Damnit.

I have been amused.

So we've been in Dallas for the past few days, at Six Flags. You want to see some characters? Go to an amusement park. Hippies stood side by side with the redneck church groups. 13 year olds in short shorts stood side by side with soccer moms. I think I even saw the scene kids with smiles on their faces. Maybe amusement parks are the one thing everyone has in common? We should start here with the attempt for world peace.

I'm going to get back on the road today to go shoot fireworks in the country! Regular posting should resume on Monday. I hope everyone has a happy fourth of july!