BS Talks

A gift cake you DON'T want to look in the mouth

Today is my granboss’ (my boss’ boss) 65th birthday and to celebrate, KJ and I ordered him a cake.  We briefly toyed with the idea of a cake with a motion activated dinosaur to simultaneously represent his life’s work and his life, being old and all but we were dismayed to find this cake would only feed 10 to 12 and we needed something for about 30.  So, we put on our thinking caps and got down to some serious cake decorating ideas and we came up with this beauty:

I am not sure this photo fully captures this absolute grotesquest image we asked the bakery to use but please feel free to check out these images to see similar ‘beings’.  My granboss lovingly named our little friend Muffy Man and he takes great pleasure in introducing Muffy to new staff members.  Needless to say, once you have met Muffy Man, your life will be forever changed.  Having personally experienced Muffy, I am not convinced it is for the better.

As an added birthday bonus, we dressed Muffy Man up for the occasion and he attended the cake gathering.

If I had to venture a guess, this is probably the best thing (in his opinion) my granboss’ staff has ever done for him. 

And, if I am to be completely honest, deer ass cake ain’t half bad! 

The long and the short of it

I don’t get the male fascination with girls and long hair.  I don’t get the fascination of guys with long hair for that matter, but that’s a topic for a different day.  I have shortish hair, it isn’t a buzz cut or the reverse mullet I used to rock or manly in any fashion but it is above my shoulders and I can’t put it in a ponytail.  And, apparently, to some guys, I may as well be bald because if it aint long it aint hair.

My hair was longish, middle of my back give or take a shoulder slump, when I decided to get a super cute bob ala Katie Holmes.  I really liked the cut plus I was applying for a job as the manager of a department and I wanted to look all professional and boss of people like and I didn’t really think my long, pigtail braids were gonna fit the bill.  Besides, I never wore my hair down.  Between health code regulations in restaurants and the hot as hell temperature in Florida (and the car with no ac in the hot as hell temperatures in Florida) my hair was always pulled up into some sort of ponytail.  What’s the point in all that hair, all that V05 shampoo, all that Nice ‘N Easy if I have to spend 2.41 hours per day sculpting it into the perfect my-hair?-oh-my-gosh!-I-just-pulled-it-up-into-a-ponytail-hot, ass mess? 

 

So, I cut it all off.  Sadly, I couldn’t donate it to Locks of Love because I’m an ass and I have had highlights but I learned my lesson and henceforth, I will not have highlights with bleach in the event I grow long enough hair to chop off and donate.  Yeah, I’m altruistic like that, I don’t mind saving $74 to help out the kids.  So, the hair is short, I don’t look as young as I did with long hair but that goes with the boss of someone territory, but I like it, I have liked it for almost 2 years.  Then some guy that didn’t even know me when my hair was longer saw a picture on Facebook or Myspace or Twitter or your third uncle’, neighbor’s, plumber’s, ex-wife’s, new girlfriend’s porn site and he commented that he like the long hair version of me.  Better.  Is that supposed to be a compliment? 

Yeah, so, hey?  You used to be pretty and now you’re just…bald.

Top job, jackass.

Usually, I like the British.

    mal a droit – adjective

          lacking in adroitness; unskillful; awkward; bungling; tactless

Google is taking over the world, one doodad at a time.

After my first Blogger post yesterday, I played around with it a bit and I noticed the ‘Next Blog’ tab at the top of the page.  Always being down for a readingventure, I clicked the button, hoping to add a few good blogs to my daily addiction reader.  I can’t figure out how they determine the ‘next’ blog.  It definitely isn’t alphabetical, oldest, newest, most recent post or any other easily desernible measure.  I’m sure I could google it but I was too busy being mesmerized by all of the blogs by mommies, women trying to be mommies and infertile mommy wannabes. 

I must have flipped through 30 blogs last night and I didn’t find any by a man or a single, childless by choice, female blogger.

For a minute or two, I thought my spinster nightmares had come true and I was the last single woman on Earth or perhaps the blogosphere.  I was on the verge of throwing myself down for the temper tantrum of the decade, (yes, that would have helped -help ensure my spinsterhood at the very least) but I decided to wait and ‘Next Blog’ today and see where that takes me. 

Fortunately for all (especially me, I’m not as young as I used to be and temper tantrums take stamina) I did not have the same results.  Instead of the various states of mommyhood, today, I found a variety of crafters, bloggers for Christ, blogs in other languages so I have no idea what the hell they're about, literary agents and editors, poets and children’s book authors. 

Very interesting collection of stuff on these here interwebs.  Very interesting.  Blogger obviously has more of a blogging community than Typepad but the main reason I decided to test it as an alternative, besides allowing custom designs (for FREE!), is all of the really cool blog doodads Google has like Feedburner, Analytics, and Reader.  Google is a one stop blogity shop. 

Soon, it will be a one stop life shop.  I think the next update to the Dashboard will allow you to turn on the coffee maker and start the car.     

And an Optima to put it all in.

If you came here today looking for the  BS Lightastic Awards, I am afraid I have to disappoint you.  As evidenced in this photo, I am a bit of a ruhtard when it comes to taking pictures of houses with Christmas lights so I will have to put off announcing the winners of the first ever BS Lightastic Awards.  I know, I know, I am an asshole.  I am going to try to get my friend L³ (seriously, she named herself that), who actually has photo skills, to come and shoot my top 4 houses so I can share them with all of you.  I am sure you are starting to chew your finger tips off with anticipation because I can feel your excitement to have the winners revealed all the way through the interwebs (I kinda like it).  Settle down kids, I promise to post  pictures tomorrow, even if I have to find pictures on other websites and pretend those are the winners.  How the hell would you know anyway?

Since I have no BS Lightastic Award winners to give you hours of Christmas-spirit-happiness, I will regale you with a tale of how I spent the better part of this evening.  It’s not Christmas lights but it does end with a fucking awesome Christmas song so it’s not a total heathen take over.

After work, I met up with a few friends for what I am now calling Tormented Tina Tuesdays.  My friend KJ (she has a thing for wine sold in odd vessels like Capri Sun style* so the name fits) is rather neurotic and to keep the rest of us from developing a similar neuroses from listening to her daily, I decided she should collect all that ails her over the week in a basket and then entertain the rest of us unburden herself on us on Tuesdays.  Today didn’t go exactly as planned, it was mostly me imitating what I think future TTTs will be like as KJ pulls a slip of paper from the basket and acts out the situation.  It’s sorta like charades meets train wreck; it’s painful to look at, yet you can’t help but stare and maybe laugh a little bit too. 

Yeah, we’re assholes. 

After the TTT show, we went to grab a ‘quick’ dinner at Backyard Burger.  We ended up being there for nearly 2 hours and only left when we did because the closing crew asked us to lift our feet so they could sweep and mop under our table.  Do we know how to have a good time or what? We couldn’t decide if we wanted to continue the TTT party or call it a night so we spent the next hour sitting in my car in the parking lot of Wig’s apartment complex.  I dubbed Wig that name because she has the most amazing curly red hair and I have said on more than one occasion if she should ever decide to go all Britney Spears and shave her head, I call dibs on her hair because I want to make a wig that I would totally wear every day. 

And no, I don’t think that’s creepy.  Thanks for checking though.

So in the car, we gossiped and chatted and car seat danced.  I am quite a car seat dancer if I do say so myself.  KJ seems to think that my cubicle mate Bell is better than me but I call bullshit on that and I think a chair dance off needs to happen ASAP.

While we were in the car, we heard the most UHMAZING Christmas song ever but none of us knew what it was so I whipped out my iPhone and Shazamed that mother.  According to my phone the song is Quad City DJs What You Want for Christmas.  I looked for it on YouTube and to my dismay it’s not there.  I did find a similar version from The 69 Boyz for you listening pleasure though.  No need to thank me, consider it my early Christmas gift to you.  See, I’m not really an asshole.

        

*The Capri Sun style wine photo is not mine, I did a Google Image search, found it and linked to it.

BS Lightastic Awards and other stuff

I am not big on being naked in private, never mind public, so it always shocks a bit me when others are all about nakedness.  Especially when I learn this by seeing them in their birthday suit.  In public.  Granted, it was the locker room at the gym so a bit of nudity is to be expected.  However, I was not prepared to round the corner from the changing stalls (where I disrobe and rerobe in the privacy of a cramped closet) and get a front row seat to the show being put on at the automatic hand dryer.  A lady (I use that term very loosely. Trust me.) was using the hand dryer to dry her entire body and I had the misfortune to come upon her as she was drying her feet, one foot at a time.  I am sure you have seen an automatic hand dryer mounted in restrooms before.  Typically, they are about stomach level and this one is no different.  The bush-woman (again, trust me) was facing me, holding her right foot up to the blower while the left foot remained on the floor.  Are you getting the picture? 

I have to give her credit for her obvious lack of a towel and inventiveness but the points deducted for providing a locker room full of women a view of her birth canal puts her in the negative.

Thankfully, I was leaving the gym and not just arriving.

To rid my eyes of the image from the gym, I decided to treat myself to a drive around a few neighborhoods to check out Christmas lights.  Obliviously, some of these people heard we were not putting up lights so they went crazy with their decorations to make up for our slackassedness and it gave me an idea!    

Since we are Grinches and aren’t going to put up lights, I decided to create The BS Lightastic Awards.  My plan is to pick the three best decorated houses on my normal driving route and award them 1^st, 2^nd or 3^rd place and maybe an honorable mention.  I plan to give 1^st place a $15 gift card to Publix, 2^nd place a $10 gift card to Publix and 3^rd  Honorable Mention gets nothing but my appreciation.  If I get around to it, I will also make some sort of ribbon or certificate letting them know why a stranger is putting a gift card to Publix in their mail box.  I’ll post pictures tomorrow or Wednesday of the winners. 
place gets a $5 gift card to, you guessed it, Publix!

Perhaps, next year I'll be more on the ball with the BS Lightastic Awards and I will post pictures early and let you help choose the winners. 

That would mean I would need more regular readers than just my mom.  Who am I kidding?  Even my mom doesn’t read this.

Speaking of competitions and awards, I rarely watch primetime competition shows because I hate all of the extraneous bullshit, all the dramatics, the voting, the blah, blah, blah, gag.  However, I did happen to catch the last half of The Sing-Off last week and I didn’t completely hate it.  I did hate that in 30 minutes of tv time, I only saw 2 groups sing a 3 minute song each but I DVRed so I could fast forward all that nonsense.   I YouTubed (is that a verb yet?) a few of the other groups and NOTA is ridiculously good.  The LIVE FINALE is on tonight, I may watch some of it.  I bet NOTA wins.

On a related note, I love it when a boy wears a shirt with a tie and a sweater!  I’m looking at you Nick Lachey.

ATTENTION. Recording space low!

The Wedding Date

Full Metal Jacket

The Lake House

Must Love Dogs

Sixteen Candles

Grease

Stand by Me

The Shawshank Redemption

E.T. the Extra Terrestrial

NUMB3RS

NUMB3RS

NUMB3RS

The Wedding Planner

NCIS

NUMB3RS

NCIS

NUMB3RS

NCIS

Grey’s Anatomy

NUMB3RS

Bones

Bones

NCIS

Grey’s Anatomy

NUMB3RS

NUMB3RS

Gossip Girl

NCIS

Criminal Minds

Grey’s Anatomy

NUMB3RS

One Tree Hill

Gossip Girl

Grey’s Anatomy

NUMB3RS

One Tree Hill

Gossip Girl

NCIS

90210

Criminal Minds

Grey’s Anatomy

NUMB3RS

One Tree Hill

Gossip Girl

NCIS

90210

Criminal Minds

Bones

Grey’s Anatomy

One Tree Hill

Gossip Girl

NCIS

90210

Criminal Minds

Bones

Grey’s Anatomy

NUMB3RS

The American President

NCIS

Criminal Minds

One Tree Hill

90210

Bones

One Tree Hill

90210

Criminal Minds

Bones

The Presidents

The People Speak

Matlock

NCIS

Matlock

Criminal Minds

Matlock

Between the tween dramas and the crime shows, I am a school shooting waiting to happen.

Redneck is NOT the new black.

I wouldn’t know fashion if he kicked me in the face with his Louis Vuitton kitten heels. 

And, frankly, I am completely fine with this because I believe in Newton’s 3^rd law of relative fashion: for every great outfit there must be an equal and opposite faux pas.  In our fashion class system, there could not be the fashionistas without the fashion ruhtards.

Needless to say, I am not at the top of the fashion food chain but I’m not at the very bottom either.  I put myself somewhere in the lower-middle fashion class.  The vast majority of my clothes come from the clearance rack at Target with a few Ross and Old Navy finds thrown in the mix for good measure.  I buy my panties in packages far more often than individually and the most expensive garment I own is a bra from Victoria’s Secret.  "Dry Clean Only' is a dirty word.  But, on most days, I match.  And I think that should get a lot more credit than it does.  My friend Aar (that’s not her actual name, she used to work for me and when I ordered her name tag, I added an extra A creating the sweet pirate sound to her name, it was an accident but I like it) has been known to wear a black lacy skirt, a grey camisole and a navy sweater with dark teal tights and black boots.  We call her Rainbow Bright for obvious reasons.  But it’s okay because somewhere in the world is Aar’s fashion counterpart and that person creates such a clothing masterpiece that it cancels out Aar’s fashion assault, keeping the fashion equilibrium in check.

My point in all of this is that while I may not be at the height of fashion I CAN spot a fashion fuck-up.  And I am here to tell you, dear eFriends, someone has lied to you.  Somehow, a fashion ruhtard has managed to go unchecked for far too long and they have tricked you into thinking plaid is cool.  It’s not.  It is all a sham, a fashion mirage.  

Plaid wasn’t cool a year ago when a rather hairy, pot bellied man sat in my section at the BBQ joint.  How do I know he was rather hairy and pot bellied if he was wearing plaid?  Well, let me tell you about the honktastic outfit this catch of a man beast was wearing.  He was wearing jean overalls without a shirt but since we are a classy BBQ joint, he had to put on a shirt or else the ‘NO shirt, NO service’ policy would come into effect.  But this gent put the ASSY in classy and beat our policy by simply putting the plaid shirt on OVER his overalls (apparently, he didn’t get that overalls go over all and not under all) and not bothering with the buttons lest that would hinder the hair around his nipples from blowing in the cool breeze created by my running away from his table to throw up in mouth.

Plaid wasn’t cool when Billy Ray Cyrus did it in 1992.

And plaid is not cool now even though you can’t go 5 feet without seeing someone in it, someone selling it or someone longing for it.

(I will admit that the AF picture is pleasing to look at even in the plaid shirt)

wtf, dictionary.com? wtf?

WTF dictionary.com?  I was word hopping at dictionary.com (what? It was Sunday, perfectly reasonable to be at home looking up words) and ended up at ‘snarky’.  Snarky is a good word but I probably would not have included it as part of my Educating the Masses with a Kick Ass Word of the Week® if I had not noticed the ‘Related Searches’ in the upper left corner.

Now, it's important to note, I love John Cusack.  Seriously.  This is not a love like I have for Ed Norton.  Well, I do think John (can I call you John?) is ridiculously hot (he’s all tall and dark and yummy) but even better than attractiveness, he is a LIBERAL!  If I find out he’s brilliant to boot, I might just die of ecstasy right now. It’s no wonder I took offense, on John’s behalf, for being associated with the word snarky. 

Apparently, dictionary.com does not know the difference between snarky and brooding which is way more applicable to John Cusack.  Amateurs.  Perhaps dictionary.com should subscribe to my EMKAWW® instead of me subscribing to theirs.

snark·y – adjective,  snark·i·er, snark·i·est Chiefly British Slang.

    1.       testy or irritable; short

I think we abuse snarky and I wanted to see the actual definition.  Naturally, I was right.  Sorta.  We give snarky more rock star appeal because we use it as the adjective form of words like diva and prima donna but I think it’s more on par with curmudgeon.

Humpday in 10.

1.)    When ordering curry, do not get level 10 hotness when the scale only goes to 11 unless you need to burn all feeling from your mouth for the duration of your life.

2.)    What is a two letter word for awesome at mid-week crossword?  ME! Seriously. 

3.)    I do not enjoy John Larroquette as a southern ‘mo lawyer.  I much prefer him as the slick, oversexed, city lawyer, Dan Fielding, from Night Court.  

4.)    Thankfully, A Christmas Story is on TNT tonight.  It really doesn’t feel like Christmastime until I have seen that movie.

5.)    Seriously?  Christmastime is an actual fucking word?

6.)    Speaking of Christmas, it’s in 15 days! OMG. 

7.)    It’s ricockulously hot in Florida right now.

8.)    My blog needs more pictures. Stat.

9.)    Paul Reubens is reprising Pee Wee Herman.  I am equal parts jazzed and terrified.

10.) My blog has 15 subscribers!  Thanks for your interest, now tell your friends so they can tell their friends and they can tell their friends and they can tell their friends and before long, I will have an outbreak of new subscribers on par with the chlamydia outbreaks in senior communities.