Super Psycho Magnet

These are just a few of my favorite texts that I’ve saved over the past few months. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. And, No. There will no no explanation of what any of them mean. Not so surprisingly, they’ve all come from the same person.

“I’m in the lobby kissing hands and shaking babies.”

“Close the fuckin door. There’s a chupacabra out there!”

“I’ll be the guy in charge of stealing the fat from the lipo clinic.”

“Explain, in detail, the northern migration of the chupacabra citing weather patterns and recent industrial activity.”

- “Bonus: Draw a picture of a chupacabra defending it’s nest from human intruders.”

“That’s just what we need. A deer turning tricks in the back yard.”

“That’s why Jesus invented night vision.”

“We can find a baby for you to kick this weekend.”

Dear Sir,

I should start by apologizing for this apology being slightly after the fact. After 14 years some would say that it’s too little too late, but hey, what’s a few years between friends?

When I first saw you, I was 11 years old. I thought you were cute even under all that cake make-up, straw hat and overalls. The first time I actually meet you was the first week, of my first year in high school. It was the first Drama Club meeting of the year. That was the day I got my nickname for the rest of the year. ((My sister had graduated 3 years prior so the people that were freshmen when my sister graduated were seniors when I was a freshman.)) For the rest of the year I was known as the Little Sister.

Moving on, I remember watching you as Sergent-at-Arms and thinking about how cute you were. I also remember thinking that you could never like someone so much younger, and you probably already had a girlfriend, and I should probably just shut up and go about my business.

I didn’t. No surprise there. Somehow I worked my way into your group of friends and made my own mark. And you did notice me. And somehow we started dating.

I think it was the fact most of my friends were seniors that brought on my delusions of grandeur. I was the only freshman I knew who was hanging out with the cool Drama Club seniors (Jesus H. Christ, I’m a nerd). When someone suffers from the feeling of being much greater then they really are they tend to take things for granted. They tend to take people for granted.

That’s exactly what I did to you. You were always good to me. You opened doors and always paid for my way. We talked for hours on the phone and in person. You comforted me when I was upset. You were the only person to visit me when I had mono for three weeks, knowing that you would inevitably get sick too (and you did).

For all that you did for me, the only thing I have to do is apologize for the way I treated you.

It’s really easy to sit here and say that it was because I was young and I didn’t know any better. I knew right from wrong by the time I was five. It really boils down to the fact that I was a brat, and maybe I still am. I always wanted what I wanted, when I wanted it and it didn’t matter who else was there.

For all the things I did, I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Walter Bean
Chief of Master Plans

I got married last night. Twice. The first guy was amazing. Good looking, rich, tall. I do love my tall boys. However, his family didn’t really approve of the marriage. They are rich and I am not. So, they don’t like me. They didn’t think I was going to be able to put together a nice wedding with nice dresses. They figured it was going to be something more West Virginia.

I had beautiful red dresses picked out for my bridesmaids, Paris, Niki and Nichole. I had a fantastic white dress with red trim for myself. We were all in line and ready to walk down the isle with my Daddy giving me away. As soon as my bridesmaids started walking their dresses turned into blue t-shirts and blue skirts that didn’t match. I watched them all go to the alter in horror. When I started walking my dress turned into cut-offs and a dirty wife-beater with mustard stains. Awesome.

Once I got to the alter I had to decide if I wanted to stop the wedding and go change or if I should just go through the ceremony wearing my white-trash outfit. I figured the ceremony was what was more important so I got married in my wife-beating uniform much to the dismay of my parents-in-law.

There was no reception. Just a honeymoon. And it was awesome. No consummating the marriage. Just a good time.

A little while later, my husband and I were visited by our good friend, Jon Stewart. Jon told me that I had made a mistake and I should have married him instead. My husband agreed so he transferred the title, so to speak, and I become Jon Stewart’s wife.

About the same time I was introduced to a secret society that ranked the sons of the rich. There were 2000 men on the list. As a wife of one of them and ex-wife to another, I was entitled to know where they both ranked. Two beautiful women came forward both wearing white shirts and holding pink pieces of paper in front of them. The lowered their pieces of paper reveling pure white shirts. Then the lights went out and a black light came on. The shirts glowed in the black light. My ex husband was ranked 5 out of 2000. My current husband, Jon Stewart, ranked 1 out of 2000.

One of the stipulations of being shown your husband’s ranking is that you’re not allowed to tell him where he falls on the list. When Jon came to pick me up it was the only thing on my mind. I have the best husband of all the rich people ever! I told him that I really wanted to tell him but I was not able to. Being the awesome husband that Jon Stewart is, he told me that his ranking didn’t matter because he had the best wife ever. He then grabbed my hand and gently rubbed thumb over the back of it, even over to my thumb and the ugly-ass wart that I’ve had for over 5 years that I’m trying to slowly burn off. He ever loves my nasty warted hands.

I still wasn’t satisfied with my husband not knowing where he ranked. I went with him to his work and he held my hand the entire time just so people would know we were together. He let me borrow his car because I had “errands” to run. I drove to the secured Army base to steal the t-shirts that had the rankings on them. They tried to stop me at the gate but I only had to tell them who my husband was and they let me through without any proof of ID.

I sneaked into the closet where the shirts were and when I turned around my ex-husband was standing with my current husband. I gave my ex-husband his shirt with a hug and “I still love you,” whispered in his ear. As I gave Jon Stewart his shirt he looked at me with his doe eyes and said, “I lo……”

Then I woke up.

Guys are the New Girls.

This entire article kind of gave me angina. I’m super cereal about this one.

When did it become the woman’s job to be the emotional one?

When did, “Peter the doughy L.A. dude in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Tom the NYC dreamboat in Maid of Honor … become girls.”

At what point did it become not O.K. for men to show their emotional/human side.

Without meaning any offense, and please take my word for that, my parents would say it’s because they grew up in a different time.

This is the problem I have with that is the feminist revolution that seems “cute” to the patriarchal society I live in. The sexual revolution has been going in since before I was born and yet it seems like little progress has been made. This revolution still seems to be ignored by ::::grrrrr::: corporate America. And the people who tell me they’re upset by the biased don’t do anything about it. The ones that grew up in a different time are the ones that teach their children that women are the “weaker” sex.

It’s killing me and holding me back whether or not the patriarch’s realize it or not.

I need to know why we have these gender boundary issues.

This world and it’s people are here to adapt and move on with unconditional love. And, it’s just not happening.

People are so afraid of disappointing their parents/family/friends/peers that they won’t be themselves.

I think this will be the fatal flaw of man-kind.

This message brought to you by wine and watching Juno.

It’s been way too long since I’ve picked up my camera.

I’ve been feeling a little emo lately and I think it’s defined very well here.

You can see the zit forming on my nose. I hate you VOG! Give an f-ing cheer for volcanic ash ruining my car and my skin.

(((BTW, screw you Kilauea! I’ve got your number. See what happens when you ruin the finish on my car. I am SO coming after you! Not you Pele. I love you and you are beautiful. I would not mess with you. The Vog has to go though!)))

I’m not even sure what to say about Dick Masterson or his website.

After waking up at the unGodly hour of 3:30 am without being able to fall back asleep I decided to mosey downstairs, make and drink an entire pot of coffee and browse the internet. It was that or work out. Which do you think I picked? Six hours later, while my jitters are still jittering, I’m still trying to process if this guy is for real or not. If he is for real, he ranks up there with Fred Phelps on the Asshole Scale. If he’s putting on an act, he ranks up there with Fred Phelps on the Asshole Scale.

I finally went to work and due to high caffeine intake before 6 am I’ve done all the work I’ve had to do for today in about 45 minutes. There are a few things that I’m waiting for to come back but I can’t do anything with them until tomorrow anyway. Woe is me.

I forgot my breakfast at home today and if I weren’t sustaining myself on coffee and nicotine I might be upset. What does upset me though is that I will have to throw out a perfectly good bagel with cream cheese and fakin’ bacon. It’s times like these I wish I didn’t have to crate my dog. If she weren’t locked up she would find my beloved bagel and eat it with the napkin it’s wrapped in. I’ve been praying that she’ll spontaneously grow thin adamantium arms with opposable thumbs so she can get herself out of her crate and eat the yummy yeasted wheat product before it goes to waste. She would probably eat more of the wall for dessert though so maybe I should be careful what I wish for.

I’ve also come upon this story this morning. Woman Arrested for Dancing at the Jefferson Memorial.

Dude. Seriously? There were not disturbing anyone else with loud music and no one was doing anyone any harm. They were simply dancing with their iPods on.

It just goes to prove that there are some people are afraid of what they don’t understand. In this case it ends in a criminal record for someone who may not deserve it. Now, I’ll admit that what is shown on the videos and what actually happened may be two different things. However, from witness accounts the group wasn’t doing anything wrong.

What the hell is happening to this world?

Quite a few years ago, when my demi-obsession with horror movies started, I was introduced to Dead Alive (original release was called Braindead). At the time, I didn’t know what to say about Peter Jackson OR New Zealand as a whole.

After watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy I figured it was the country of New Zealand that’s totally effed.

My theory was solidified this week when I watched a movie called “Black Sheep.” There is something wrong with the country of New Zealand. I don’t know what it is but it makes me want to move there and raise German Shepards and Sheep!

Flight of the Conchords makes me want to move to New Zealand too!

And now it come full circle!

My Dad asked me a couple weeks ago if I missed England.

Fair enough. I lived there for two and a half years of my life (the other 6 months were in Iraq.) However, I also suffered the worst heart break I’ve ever had to face. Not from a boy though. It was from someone I called my friend. Anyway…

I thought it was silly for him to ask me if I missed it. I left bad people on bad terms and I was happy to pack up and leave. I had tried to drink myself to oblivion because I was trying to forget what had happened but we all know how that one goes…

Surfing through YouTube today I realized there is something I miss. Children’s programming. Every Saturday morning I would wake up early so I could watch Dick -n- Dom in da Bungalow. It was the one thing that, no matter what else was going on, I could watch it and laugh.

And this is why i hate Wal-Mart.

Brain-damaged woman at center of Wal-Mart suit

MADE YOU LOOK! HAHAHAHA!!!