Better Late Than Never

I hesitated to make New Year's Resolutions as they never seem to last very long. Mind you, I do have a laundry list of things I'd like to change, and I plan to, but doing it on January 1st always seemed so arbitrary.

That is why I waited until January 16th to pack in my shitty job. That is right, loyal readers, I am sans employment at the moment. I told my job to shove it. I had planned to wait until after our return from Australia. But, circumstances and assholes conspired against me and forced my hand. That place was looney tunes, and not in a good way. So, I had to leave.

But, despite my fear about not having a job, it is still one of the best decisions I've ever made. When things make you miserable, you have to move on. A little financial strain is worth my sanity.

So, these photos are my homage to another job quitter who saw the light, as I did. May you all get the chance to take this photo one day, it is truly liberating. Long live hope, dreams and bitches everywhere. There is a place for all of us, I promise.

I Need an Enabler

One of my favorite shows on TV is American Dad. Busted on for being a Family Guy rip off, I find it not only entertaining, but topical. This week's episode spoke to me on a personal level. The resident alien Roger, was being told to change his ways to be more nice. The quote that said it all for me was this.

"Roger, is being nice killing you?"

"My people need to let our bitchiness out, otherwise it turns to bile and poisons us."

After two bouts of sickness recently, I am beginning to feel like I am being poisoned by my life. The stress, the bullshit, the unmitigated stupidity I am confronted with every day, all of which I must suffer with a smile, is turning my insides to bile. And, it is poisoning me. I really, honest to god, don't know how people do it. All I know is, something has got to change or I am liable to fade faster than my latest hair color. I need help, and hopefully somewhere out there, I will find it. Until then, I need to find someone to tell me it's okay, to tell me that I can let my bitchiness out. Let my freak flag fly. If you are out there, let me know. I'm accepting applications.

Karma is Not as Much of a Bitch as I Am

Sometimes, I wonder if I have done something very wrong in a past life. My cousin once said we must have been baby-eating dictators or something, as our Karmic life seems terribly out of whack. As an example, there was a woman I worked with that I hated. She gave me stuffed dogs as a secret Santa gift, she didn't pull her weight, and she was really annoying. She finally quit before Thanksgiving. And, give thanks, I did.

Her replacement began work right after Christmas. As cruel fate would have it, she is even worse than the last one. She is slow, annoying and needs her hand held for the simplest of tasks. No amount of explaining seems to sink in and no amount of ignoring her shuts her up. My karma has sent me another albatross to replace the old clunker that used to be around my neck.

Now, I'm the first to admit, I'm a bitch. I'm not very nice, it seems, and if I don't like you, you'll know it in about 3 seconds. But, for the most part, I do what every one does. I hide my true feelings and muddle through. But, this woman is about 30 seconds away from a punch to the face. I can't deal with her and I am actively searching for ways out of my job from hell. I was hoping to hold on until May, take my three week jaunt to Oz, come back and quit. But, this whore is forcing my hand. To really top the cake with an big scoop of irony, she lives right down the street from me. How's that for bad Karma? Next thing you know, she'll want to car pool.

So, I guess I better go build some houses for the poor, go green or vote democrat to get my karma back on line. I need some good stuff now more than ever. And, pray for this woman, or she might just find herself with an Inky knuckle sandwich.

Humble Beginnings

Today is the 11 year anniversary of Greazy and my first date. The day started like any other in the life of a college student. I got up to do a radio show with Greazy and XL. He had invited me, and I spent the night before being giddy. See, I had been harboring feelings for him for a couple months, despite my continued relationship with a douche bag. I dumped his sorry ass on Thanksgiving, and once I returned to campus, I put Greazy to the back of my mind. I needed some time off, or so I thought. Turns out it was not to be. He and I flirted on the air, like the severe dorks we were (and are) and we ignored XL. I went on about my day, but took the time to happen by Greazy and XL later on, you know, just taking a detour totally out of my way to "run into" him. Then, he did what I thought he might. He asked me out.

I went home to panic and prepare. We met late as you often do when you are 20 years old. We drove in the light snow to Denny's and split the sampler. We tried to make sense of what was happening, as we were and are an unlikely pair. We just couldn't believe our good fortune. He drove me home and we hugged. Less than 24 hours later, things got decidedly more serious.

All these years later, I still remember the way I felt that night, freezing to death in his car. I remember the butterflies, the disbelief, and ultimately the smitten kitten he turned me into.

The rest, as they say, is history. Now we are the old balls and chains. But, of all the things I've ever done, that trip to Denny's was still the best. He's my questions 4. Greazy is the love of my life.

Meh

I don't know what exactly is going on with me, but to sum it up . . .I'm just bummed out. I hate my job, and I'm sick and tired of about every little thing that goes along with it. I'm not excited about Christmas, I couldn't care less about shopping or carols or cards. Even things I like aren't doing it for me right now. Music doesn't sound good, TV is boring and I can't get through a page of a book without re-reading it twenty times.

I have felt this way from time to time, but for some reason right now it all feels more profound and hard. Not to minimize true and deeply serious depression. I'm not there. Never thee fear my loyal readers. (all five or six of you) Just bummed.

So, the lack of production, the lack of anything interesting to say all stems from this bleak, kind-of greyness surrounding the Inkster right now. So, for the time being, I'll curl up in my softie pants, drown my sorrows in Morrissey and Iced Tea, and hope for the best.

How can such a relentlessly cheerful time make me feel so shitty?

Thank You, Top 5

It is hard to believe that I haven't updated my Top 5 list since the New Year began. I have been seriously slacking in this department, but it is time to put an end to all that. So at this, the time to give thanks, I am giving thanks for hotties. More specifically, hotties I can sleep with free and clear if the opportunity presents itself. Ah, the pilgrims would be so proud.

1) Henry Rollins - I am ever so thankful that Henry is still number one in my heart.

2) Lee Pace - (pictured above) The adorable pie maker from ABC's Pushing Daisies. I love him. I don't know where he's been all my life, but he is amazing. An impressive placement, for a first timer.

3) Michael C. Hall - The star of Six Feet Under and Dexter is looking mighty yummy, and I never noticed before. How dare I?

4) Rob Morrow - This star of CBS's Numb3rs was Joel Fleischman on Northern Exposure. Now he's in his 40's and looking better than ever. God bless America.

5) Bear Grylls - He eats a lot of gross stuff, but in addition to being handy to have around, he has a real tendency to get naked at the drop of a hat. Always a plus.

So, there you have it. Thanksgiving Top 5. Always delicious.

Making Mischeif

Sometimes I feel compelled to do things I know I shouldn't. Like every time I step foot on an airplane, I feel this overwhelming urge to say the word bomb. More specifically, I want to say the phrase Ready with the bombs, buddy. It is from the South Park movie, and it just comes in to my head as soon as my butt is in that tiny seat.

Like in church. I don't go very often, but every time I am in a church, I have to fight the desire to giggle at something inconsequential. The laughter then grows and becomes hard to contain. The next thing you know, you are getting the stink eye from other, more godly parishioners.

Well, it is fall and all over town there are people gathering leaves and placing them near curbs for pick up. I see these painstakingly crafted mounds and I have only one thought. To run through, and mess up these pristine piles of leaves and put them right back where they came from. It would be a sight to behold, watching some hapless husband walk out on to his front lawn and see all his hard work, all those leaves scattered right back where they started. His wife would yell, "I thought I told you to rake up those leaves!"

And, he would protest, but she wouldn't believe him. All because I feel the need to do things I know I shouldn't. But, it sure would be fun to play in all those leaves.

Ready with the bombs, buddy!!!

Stop Ruining Everything, Geeks!!

I've just about had it with people. Why is everyone out to ruin everything I watch on television? It is no secret I love Man vs. Wild. So, some douche bag comes along and says "Hey sorry, loyal viewers, shit's not real." Thanks for the newsflash, asshole. It's television. Of course it's not real. Some of the scenes are staged? The hell you say. What am I? An idiot. I don't need people to protect me from the fact that television isn't real. I get that. Now, with all the disclaimers and bullshit, the show sucks. So, thanks. You succeeded in ruining the show for me.

God forbid things aren't real on television. Except when it comes to all these fucking sci-fi shows and the geeks who spend countless hours rehashing them and comparing them to things and basically sucking any life out of them. Lost, Heros, Battlestar . . .FUCK OFF AND DIE!! Who cares which manga/anime/comic book this shit is based on? I don't care which graphic novel is cited heavily in the episode. You all suck. Everything isn't Star Trek. It doesn't need to be dissected. Don't start websites devoted to "figuring out" what Lost means. You'll find out soon enough, and then you're life will really be over. Just let it be.

For all people's crying about shows like The Office not being enough like a real office, they don't seem to mind time portals or purgatory or dead cheerleader crap on other shows. I see, for that you can suspend disbelief. But not for anything else. Makes perfect sense.

Just leave my television alone. Let me watch in peace, without having to watch a webisode and show up at this bathroom stall at midnight to find out what the show was really about. It's television. Just watch it.

My Month Without Pants, Part 2

As promised, more low-lights from my time on the couch.

There is really only one advantage to having your leg in a cast. Someone getting stuff for you. My dear Greazy had to be my slave boy for nearly 5 weeks. Bringing me drinks, getting me snacks, helping me get up the stairs. He was a trooper and didn't complain too much. At least not until the end, when I was crutching around like an old pro.

The other perk of being a temporary cripple is the day time television. From previous posts, you know I love Maury, and he is on about 10 times a day. But, there is only so much baby daddy drama one can take. Luckily there are lots of options for television. Reruns of classics like MASH. Soap operas. And, god bless TiVo. How I loved it so.

When people are mobile and not hopping on one foot, you rarely think about trying to get off a toilet with only one leg. Give it a try sometime. Go ahead, I'll wait. It's not so simple is it. It is a fucking chore. Until you go somewhere and discover the handicapped toilet is actually made for this express purpose. I'd have one in my house by now if it didn't look so odd.

The last installment . . .creepy doctors, STD and freedom.

Right Fucking On

Just when I start to lose all hope for the world something like this happens. A guy from York, PA, where I live, took the Westboro Baptist fuckers to court and WON!! These assholes protested at his son's funeral and he sued them for damages. 11 million dollars sounds good to me. As my readers know, we had a run in with these jerks and experienced their "protests" first hand.

Score one for the home team, and one for the good in this world. I hope these bastards have to stop with these ridiculous protests because they won't have money to put gas in their crazy bus.

My Month Without Pants, Part 1

As evidenced by my lack of production, my broken leg hit me pretty hard. I was listless, foggy and uninspired. I mean, more so than usual. So, I took some time to recap the low lights of my time in the plaster, and collected them here for you.

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After I hobbled a mile and a half (uphill, mostly) out of the woods, drove 40 minutes home, changed clothes, and walked into the hospital, I finally broke down. Big, red-eyed, unattractive tears. It hit me that this was no run of the mill injury. My suspicions were confirmed by the kind, British radiology woman. She said to me, "Well, I'm not supposed to tell you, but it's broken. You'll find out soon enough, though."

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My taller than tall doctor was not into my jokes. He splinted my no doubt stinky foot and sent me on my way with a referral for my real doctor. And, a prescription for magic pills. Somewhere in my stupid brain I heard the words coming out of my mouth, "I'm not going to take them, anyway." That lasted about 3 hours. I got home, onto the couch and realized that in all that "activity" my leg really hurt.

I called my mother to break the news to her (ha ha) and then popped my narcotics cherry. They were okay, nothing to write home about. But they helped me sleep like a champ. Despite Greazy treating me like some kind of junkie, I kept taking the pills. Two sometimes, just to sleep. But, I always waited the 4-6 hours in between. God, I'm a nerd even when I'm in terrible pain. I'm hopeless.

So, I get the splint off, and a cast on, and still no real doctor. Since I'm not fun, and don't require screws, pins, etc. I get a Mr. not a Dr. But, it mattered not, as I also got STD. No, not like that, Short Term Disability. NO WORK. Have more beautiful words ever been uttered.

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Next time . . .the joys of a man servant, and more.

Newsflash

I can say without hesitation, that breaking your leg sucks.

I got my cast on today, and while I am ordered off from work, which I am 100% fine with, I am still pretty depressed about the whole business. I can't do anything fun, I can barely get up my stairs. I feel cloudy in the head, and everything is a monumental effort. I can't be active, which is very important to me now. And, peeing seems like too much work.

Sadest of all, I had to cancel my hot-air balloon ride for my birthday this Saturday. So, all in all, things kind of blow right now.

It's Been a While

I was coming home from a hike today, and innocently stopped at a local produce stand for some healthy snacks. The young man working at the stand started talking to me, asking me about my tattoos and things. He offered to put my peaches in a bag for me, and smiled.

It was then that it occurred to me. This young man was hitting on me. Since it has been eons since anything vaguely resembling this has happened, I was taken aback. I was sweaty and gross from my hike, but apparently this guy was into it. We chatted for a few more minutes, as every time I tried to leave, he would ask me another question. I have to say, it was flattering and he wasn't half bad looking.

It's nice to know I've still got it, or at the very least can attract a boy who works with fruit, clearly dazed from sitting in the sun.

Lifetime of Disappointment

I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I have been sucked into the Lifetime series Sideorder of Life. It follows Jenny, as she starts kicking ass at work, and leaves her man. Overall it is a good series, but it suffers from an all-too-common ailment. That being that the main character is kind of whiny and annoying.

Jenny is a skinny, blonde bitch who doesn't really make me want to like her. On the flip side, her best friend is the overweight and funny Vivy, who really should be the focal point of the show.

We've seen this a thousand times, most recently with the popular Grey's Anatomy. Am I the only one who wished Meredith had drowned in the ferry accident, or finds her co-stars Callie, Izzy and Cristina much more interesting? I can only hope this season McDreamy sleeps with her sister, and she clears her throat and stops talking like that.

As for Side Order of Life, I am still interested as to who she is talking to on the phone, and what will happen with her cancer stricken friend, so I will keep watching. But just once, I'd like to see the main character be someone I actually care about, and not just some blonde who looks good.

Hating Giada

I'm not quite sure when my hatred for Giada De Laurentiis started, but it is very real. I can't stand her. She bugs me even more than Rachel Ray, and that is saying a lot.

I've had the displeasure of watching her recently, as my husband likes her breasts. She did a show where she went to D.C. to show us the culinary delights of the town. She went to the farmer's market and took tiny bites of things. She went to restaurants and took tiny bites of her meals. Basically she's one of those birdy-bite women who has to stay skinny so they never truly eat.

But, here's the real kicker. She went to the Chocolate Buffet at the Ritz Carlton (which I have done) and proceeded to pile her plate full of chocolate wonders. She comes back to her table with a cookie in her mouth, and proceeds to take a tiny bite of each thing, and that's it. An ordinary person pays $25 dollars for the pleasure of eating all this greatness. She has to "be good" and only take a wee bite of each. What a shameful waste.

And, how, pray tell, can every food item on earth be creamy in texture. Everything this bitch makes is "creamy" or very rarely "nutty". She also does that annoying thing of pronouncing some words with an Italian accent, even though everything else is perfect English. I know she is Italian, but it is annoying as fuck. We get it, you're from Italy. Bully for you.

So, I feel better now that I've gotten that off of my chest. Sometimes hatred is hard to explain, but easy to enjoy.

Who Does That?

Anyone who knows me knows that the title of this post is one of my most often asked questions. I truly have the desire to know what possesses people to do the things they do. What makes people think that certain things are acceptable behavior? I find myself saying it or thinking it on a daily basis. Here are a few example of what I'm talking about. You decide, Who Does That?

• Takes a metal shard from out of their boot and hands it to someone to "throw away."
• Asks a female co-worker to help a guy push his disabled vehicle out of someone's way.
• Tells a stranger to smile more, and that it may not make her feel better, but it will help her look better.
• While seated at a table at a restaurant, hears someone at the next table say "dickhead" and moves tables in disgust.
• While discussing professionalism with a subordinate, stops to take a phone call in which a woman's appearance and willingness to put out are discussed.

These are just a few of the genius things I am privy to everyday. I marvel at the stupidity, the thoughtlessness and the downright asshole nature of people.

Not Bad

Just for a little fun, I went to simpsonizeme.com and found out what I would look like as a resident of Springfield. Not a bad likeness, if you ask me.

Death of a Planet

I'm sorry to say that Punk Planet is no more. I just received the last issue in the mail, along with the first zine, as an added bonus.

It's hard to believe they are not going to be around any more. Even harder to believe is that they have been around since I graduated high school.

So, farewell to yet another independently published magazine. The times, they certainly are changing.

It Runs in the Family

It must be in the genes. I was talking to my sister last night, and she was telling me all about her new little bundle of joy, my niece. She filled me in on all their recent activities and what they've been up to. And, it seems just like her aunt, my little EJ loves her some Man Vs. Wild.

While she is only three weeks old, she already has an affinity for one Mr. Bear Grylls. While her daddy was holding her watching the show, she turned to look at the TV, something she doesn't really do. Seems she was quite taken with the program, unable to look away, especially when Bear was talking. So far, it is one of the few things on television she has responded to at all.

At least now I know, we have something in common. Well, other than our noses.

Impossible Bastards, Part 2

Well, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse at my job, it did. I just got back from vacation today, to find that I no longer have email. Now, I am stuck with no communication, no internet, and no fun.

And, to the jackass who commented on my first post of this nature, let's see you do your job without email!!!